simpson12

[simpson12]

AHHH OMG THIS IS SO CUTE PLSSS PART TWOOO @muwapsturniolo

Lost in Japan ᪥ M.Sturniolo

Do you got plans tonight?

⟢ tiny bit of angst, nothing crazy. longing, regret, old faces with a past seeing eachother and wanting to rekindle what once was....possible for a part 2???

@bernardsbendystraws for divider

Matt felt like the air had been knocked clean out of his lungs. For a moment, he just sat there, frozen, as if time had stopped for everyone except him. But in his head, everything was racing—memories of the two of you hitting him all at once, like a slideshow on fast-forward: your first late-night walk in the city, your voice humming over a glass of wine, the way you used to smile at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

And now here you were. Real. Close.

You looked stunning—effortlessly so. Your skin glowed under the soft, golden light of the rooftop terrace. That laugh of yours rang out over the quiet murmur of clinking glasses and designer small talk. You were doubled over with joy, trying to stuff a piece of sushi into the mouth of one of your equally beautiful model friends, both of you giggling like teenagers. He could tell from the way your cheeks were flushed and your gestures exaggerated—you’d definitely had a little too much soju.

He should’ve known you'd be here. Of course you would be. You were one of the faces of the campaign, a Guess brand ambassador, practically the reason this dinner was happening. Still, nothing had prepared him for the moment he realized he was seated just three chairs down from you, close enough to catch the scent of your perfume.

Burberry goddess.

“Talk to her,” Chris said, his voice cutting through the clink of silverware and muted rooftop chatter.

Matt didn’t respond. He just stared down into his ramen, steam rising and curling into the night air. His grip on the chopsticks tightened slightly.

Chris exhaled—long and theatrical. “Bro, seriously. You’ve been looking at her like you forgot how to breathe. Just go say something.”

Matt shook his head once. “No.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because,” Matt said, barely above a whisper. “We were never… anything.”

Chris leaned in, frowning. “What are you talking about? You two were inseparable. Always texting. Always showing up together. You can’t fake that kind of connection.”

Matt gave a dry laugh. “We were close. That’s it. No labels. No fights. Just... time passing until we weren’t close anymore.”

His eyes flicked back toward you across the table. You were standing now, mid-laugh, trying to pull a friend into a group photo. You looked radiant—your dress hugging your figure in all the right ways. Your smile hadn’t changed. Big, reckless, real.

God, he missed that smile.

Chris followed his gaze. “She’s not gonna bite, you know. This isn’t some tragic ending. You didn’t cheat. She didn’t ghost you. You just... fell off.”

Matt’s jaw tensed. “Exactly. Which makes it worse somehow. There wasn’t even a reason.”

He watched as you tilted your head, laughed at something, and leaned into someone else's shoulder.

It wasn’t jealousy. Not really.

It was the ache of being known by someone once—and now being a stranger.

The dinner wrapped up in a blur of clinking glasses and polite goodbyes. Matt stood near the back of the crowd as people filtered toward the elevators, some wobbling slightly in heels, others already deep in afterparty plans. He kept his head down, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, but his eyes found you immediately.

You were standing just ahead, laughing, your hand resting lightly on a friend’s arm as you waited for the elevator to arrive. The soft golden light made your skin glow, and the loose strands of your hair danced gently as the rooftop breeze chased them. Matt swallowed hard.

Talk to her, Chris’s words echoed again in his mind. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.

Bodies packed in quickly—too many, probably, but no one cared. Matt hesitated for a second before stepping in, barely making it through the closing doors. You were already inside, tucked into the opposite corner. And somehow, in all the crowded chaos, your eyes found his.

It wasn’t a stare. Just a flicker. A glance that lingered a second too long.

Matt looked away, pretending to adjust the collar of his jacket. His heart was beating faster now. He could feel the heat of the elevator, the scent of perfume and cologne and too much expensive wine. But then—there it was again. That pull.

He glanced back.

You were smiling softly now, like you knew something he didn’t. Like a secret was floating between you in that tight little box, just waiting to be spoken.

Your eyes met his, steady this time. Curious. Playful. Dangerous.

The elevator jolted slightly as it descended. Someone behind Matt chuckled about weight limits. Someone else hiccuped. But none of it mattered. For a moment, all Matt could feel was you across from him—the tension, the electricity, the thousand unsaid things hanging in the space between.

You raised an eyebrow—just a tiny lift, but it said a lot.

Matt tilted his head, lips twitching like he might smile.

Okay, he thought. Maybe it’s not too late.

The drive back to the hotel was a blur. City lights streaked past the window, a hazy mix of gold and red, but Matt barely saw any of it. His mind was still back in that elevator. With you.

Now, fresh out of the shower, steam still clinging to the mirror and skin warm from the water, he sat at the edge of the bed in a white hotel robe, hair damp and messy. Elbows on his knees, head bowed slightly—thinking of you.

How your eyes had met his in that elevator. How your smile had tugged at something deep inside him. How the air had felt thick with something unspoken.

He was just about to stand, maybe pour a drink, maybe go down to the bar to meet Chris, when—

Knock knock.

Soft. Barely there. But enough to pull him out of his thoughts.

He sighed, already assuming it was Chris or Nick coming to drag him out. Probably to rehash the dinner or tease him about you again.

He crossed the room, swinging the door open with a tired, mildly annoyed look on his face.

And then he froze.

It was you.

Not a memory. Not a dream.

You.

The same dress from earlier hugged your figure, but now it was layered with something achingly familiar—his old leather jacket. The one you used to steal when you stayed over. The one he hadn’t realized was missing until right now.

Your expression was calm, but your eyes held a flicker of mischief. Like this wasn’t a mistake. Like you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Do you got plans tonight?” you asked, casually. Like you weren’t standing in his doorway looking like every regret he ever had and every chance he was afraid to take.

It took him a second to process the words. His mind had stalled somewhere between the sight of you in his jacket and the realization that this moment might change everything.

“Huh?”

Matt blinked, still trying to catch up. You smiled, brushing past him with an easy confidence, like you owned the place—like you always had. The scent of your perfume followed you in, warm and familiar, laced with something that made his pulse skip.

You made your way to the bed and plopped down without hesitation, crossing one leg over the other. His leather jacket slid off your shoulder just slightly as you leaned back on your palms, looking at him like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“I said,” you repeated, teasing, “Do you got plans tonight? I was thinking we could go out. You know—explore, talk, maybe get lost for a little while.”

Matt’s heart gave a small jolt. The casualness of your voice didn’t hide the weight behind the offer—at least not to him. Not after everything.

Explore. Talk. Maybe find the version of you two that still existed in the spaces between memories.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool, but the corners of his mouth were already lifting. “Depends,” he said, voice a little lower than before. “What kind of ‘exploring’ are we talking about?”

You shrugged, your eyes locked on his. “City lights. Street food. Neon signs. Maybe a rooftop or two. Maybe just walking and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

Matt laughed softly, unable to help it. “So basically… exactly what we used to do.”

You grinned, a reminiscent look in your eyes. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the room was quiet—thick with the kind of silence that feels alive. The kind that says we’ve been here before, and we might just find our way back.

Matt looked at you again—legs tucked under his jacket, that same spark in your eyes he thought he’d never get to see this close again—and felt something loosen in his chest.

“Give me five minutes,” he said, already turning back toward the bathroom. “I’ll get dressed.”

You leaned back further onto the bed, smiling to yourself. “Don’t take too long. I’ve got plans with you tonight.”

[simpson12]

Mr. Sturniolo ¹

pairing: boss!matt x assistant!reader

~

warnings: some swearing, mention of nudity and sex, use of y/n, mentions of child abuse, mentions of past trauma, a small (i think) age gap—he's 31 and she's 25—and some kissing

~

a/n: hello! this is my first fic, so please bear with me if this is a bit cringey to you🙏 this is the first part of a series. when the second part comes out, i will edit this one and put the link for part 2, part 3, etc. anyway, i hope you enjoy, my loves 💌

~

divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

~

all work and credits goes to me. any form of copyright will be reported. thank you! —khadijah 💌

You sat in the chair, fumbling with the hem of your dress. Matt Sturniolo. Boss, and CEO, of Sturniolo Estate, a real estate company. He was hiring people to be his assistant.

Matt walked in, his gaze sharp as he focused on you. "Y/N Y/L/N, I presume?" he asked, his tone cold and sharp.

You nodded. Fuck. Suit. Tie. Watch. And rings. Oh my God, your breath left your soul.

"Shall we get started?" Matt sat down, going through papers.

~

You got the job. You were in the elevator and the doors started closing when Matt came in, too. His eyes raked your body. You were wearing a sleek black dress with a little leg showing, white heels, and a necklace. You fumbled with your engagement ring, and Matt's gaze fell to your hand. You could've sworn you saw his eyes darken.

"Engaged?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said, smiling warmly.

Matt smiled forcefully and nodded.

When you guys got to your floor, he said, "Ladies first." He held the elevator doors open for you. You walked to his office and saw a bunch of people there.

Matt came behind you, his breath fanning over your ear. "I forgot to tell you. There's a board meeting today." He patted your arm twice comfortingly before heading in.

What the fuck. You walked in the meeting, taking a seat beside Matt.

Matt handed you some papers, then fumbled through his own.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" you whispered.

"Make yourself look busy." Matt looked at the projector screen, listening to everyone's pitches. You rolled your eyes.

"That's not much of an explanation," you snarled.

"There is no explanation."

You scoffed, but paid attention to the meeting for a good while...until your phone rang. Shit. Your phone buzzed instantly and you looked at who it was. Damian. Your fiancé's number rang in your face. You declined the call.

"Sorry. Continue." You smiled nervously.

When work was over, you dismissed yourself and went to the lobby, where Damien was waiting for you.

"Hey babe." Damian smiled, and pecked your lips.

"Hi," you breathed. Someone bumped into you, and when you looked up, it was Matt. He didn't apologize or anything.

"You know, saying 'sorry' could do you so much in life," you snapped at him.

"Sorry," Matt muttered, but you could tell he didn't mean it. His eyes narrowed on Damian. "This your fiancé?"

Damian outstretched his hand. "Damian Curtis. Nice to meet you, sir."

Matt glared at him, yet shook his hand. "Yeah, hi."

"Damian, let's go," you said, tugging on Damian's arm. "It was nice talking to you, Mr. Sturniolo, but we'd better get going. Have a nice evening."

~

When you got home, Damian laughed. "Was that your boss or something?"

"Yeah," you muttered.

Damian pecked your cheek. "Anyway, wanna eat out today? I didn't make anything, and it's 7:30."

"Where would we go?" you asked, taking off your dress and accessories. You put on a sweater and jeans. You undid your bun, combed the silky tresses, then tying it into a ponytail.

"I don't know, just a restaurant."

"There's a new Italian place downtown." You sat on Damian's lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go." He kissed you once before picking you up and bringing you to the front door. "Put on your shoes and meet me outside. I'm going to be in the car."

You nodded then put on your shoes. A sense of dread filled you and you ran to the kitchen. You grabbed a pill, and downed it with water.

After that, you headed to the car with a smile on your face. "Let's go."

~

When you got to 'Amore dall'Italia', you placed your orders and sat down at a table for two. Just then, Matt walked in, suit and everything.

Your throat felt lodged again. You grabbed your water and drank it, and what was supposed to be a skip ended up being the whole glass. Damian noticed this and pointed it out. "You feeling okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Matt turned around when he heard your voice, and your eyes locked.

His blue eyes pierced into yours, and you could've sworn you saw his Adam's apple bob.

To avoid Matt, when you got your order, you ate as fast as you could and headed home.

Damian's body collapsed on top of yours as he trailed kisses down your neck. "Fuck, you're perfect."

Suddenly, your clothes were off and he was pushing into, groaning from perfection. You moaned shamelessly, your nails digging into his back.

Soon, Damian needed to come. He knew the rule: pull out and then come. You couldn't risk getting pregnant.

"Please, baby," Damian whispered, his voice hoarse. "Let me come inside, please. Want to fill you up with my kids."

"No, Damian," you moaned as pulled out and slowly pushed back in. "You know the rule..."

"I know, but please, baby. I'm begging you."

"Damian—"

"Baby, please."

"Damian—"

"Y/N, fuck I'm so close. Please. Just let me—"

"I'm on birth control, Damian!" you finally snapped, your eyes going wide as you realized what you had just confessed.

"What?" Damian asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Baby, you know I've wanted kids for so long. Wh-What— Why would you do this?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you saw his sadness and hurt and betrayal. "I never wanted kids. You never listened."

"But why? Why don't you want kids?"

"My parents never got along, Damian. We were barely acknowledged. I don't want to do that to my kids if we had any." Tears spilled down your cheeks at the sight of Damian's anger.

"You're joking. You're fucking with me, right? You don't want kids because of your past?"

"Damian, you know how much my past hurts me," you sobbed.

"Y/N, I really can't right now. I'm heading to bed." Your heart broke at his brief dismissal, but you nodded.

~

When you woke up that morning, Damian wasn't there. Tears filled your eyes as you swiped at your eyes, groaning. You had work today and you couldn't be late. Not again.

When you arrived at work, you brushed past Matt and sat at your desk, burying your face in your hands.

Matt approached you and put his hands on your desk, leaning forward. "You okay?"

You looked up, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Matt's tone left no room for arguing.

"I had a rough night, that's all."

"Fiancé?" he asked.

"Wha— How'd you know?" You stood up, facing him, yet you still had to look up.

"I just sensed it." A long pause stretched out between the two of you before Matt said, "You sure you'll be okay?"

You smiled. You didn't really have a choice, did you? You had to be fine. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, good. I don't want to see you slacking. It'll look bad for my reputation." What. A. Dick.

~

When you got home that night, all of Damian's things were gone. You sobbed harder than you ever had that night, wondering if you ruined everything.

You hated him. Oh my God, you hated him. Matt was always around. Always fucking around. He wouldn't leave you alone.

"Need anything else?" he asked, right after bringing you a coffee and croissant.

"No, I'm fine." You forced yet another smile, maybe your 5th, 6th, of the day?

He sat beside you. Great.

"You're sure you're okay?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"You know, Y/N," Matt said, chuckling softly to himself. "You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I know you're going to get through this."

And as you headed home that night, his words kept playing in your head, and you began to wonder if that was true.

💌 :: anyway pookies this story is finally done 😝 i hope you liked it and part two is coming out soon!

~

[simpson12]

OMG THIS IS SO CUTE IM GOING TO DIEE SO GOODD

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ9 MONTHS AFTER * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N's and Matt's babies are finally born after 9 long months of waiting; OR, where Matt is finally a dad.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　Pregnancy, crying, mentions of labor, pain.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The contractions hit Y/N like a tidal wave, her breath catching in her throat as she gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, her knuckles turning white. The pain radiated from her lower back, wrapping around to her abdomen in tight, relentless waves. She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

They had been waiting for this moment for nine long months, and yet, now that it was here, the reality of it was almost overwhelming. She tried to call out for Matt, her voice wavering, but the pain was so intense that it felt as if it was squeezing the sound right out of her.

Matt was in the living room, his eyes glued to his laptop as he reviewed some emails. It had been a busy few weeks leading up to the due date, and he was trying to get ahead of things before the twins arrived.

The sound of Y/N’s voice, strained and filled with pain, cut through his concentration like a knife. His head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. He leaped from the couch, knocking his laptop to the floor, and sprinted into the kitchen, his heart racing with panic.

"Honey? What’s wrong? Is it- oh God, it’s happening, isn't it?" Matt’s voice was a mixture of excitement and sheer panic as he reached her side. He placed a gentle but trembling hand on her back, his eyes wide with concern as he watched her struggle to breathe through the contraction. "Breathe, baby, breathe. Do you need water? No, wait- sit down. Should you sit? Or should you lie down? Oh my God, I should call 911!"

Y/N squeezed his hand, her face scrunched up in pain, but she managed a breathless laugh.

"Matt, relax... it’s okay. Just-" She interrupted her own sentence when a new wave of pain invaded her whole body.

"Come here, sweetheart." Matt gently guided Y/N to the edge of the kitchen chair, his expression shifting from sheer panic to a momentary calmness, trying to ground himself in the situation.

He knelt down in front of her, his hands trembling slightly as he placed them on her knees. His eyes, wide with worry, locked onto hers as he tried to steady his breathing.

"How long has this been going on?" His voice held a perfect mix of calmness and nerves, the gravity of the situation starting to dawn on him. He reached out instinctively, his hand gently resting on her stomach, feeling the tension in her muscles.

"Oh God, I don’t know." Y/N replied, wincing as another contraction hit, this one even stronger. She grasped Matt's hand tightly, her grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers. "Maybe an hour or so... but it’s so much worse right now."

Matt’s eyes widened, the shock and concern evident in his expression. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

"Okay, okay, don’t panic." His voice was a bit firmer now, though a subtle tremble betrayed his nerves. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring as he looked deeply into her eyes. "We need to time these contractions, okay? See if they’re far apart or getting closer together..."

Y/N nodded weakly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to focus on his words. Matt quickly grabbed his phone, fumbling with it slightly as he opened the timer app. He sat back on his heels, his eyes darting between the screen and Y/N's face, waiting for the next contraction to hit.

When it did, she squeezed his hand again, and he hit the timer. They both watched the seconds tick by, the silence in the room only broken by Y/N's labored breathing. The contraction passed, and Matt stopped the timer, noting the time with a furrowed brow.

"Okay, that was... three minutes." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. "We’re close, Y/N. We need to get you to the hospital now."

He helped her to her feet, moving with a newfound urgency but still managing to maintain a steady calmness, knowing he had to be strong for her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they made their way out to the car, his determination stronger than ever.

He opened the passenger door of their car, gently easing her into the seat before rushing to the driver’s side.

"Matt, the... the bag."

"Right! The bag!" Matt practically yelled as if suddenly remembering the concept of bag. "I'm gonna be right back, baby!"

He darted back to the house, running around the kitchen like a man possessed, searching for the hospital bag they had packed weeks ago. He spotted it by the door and grabbed it, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to get back to Y/N.

"Here, I’ve got the bag! And... what else? Do we need snacks? Maybe you want something to eat before we go?"

Y/N's response was a groan as another contraction hit, stronger this time.

"Okay, no snacks, got it. We’re going to the hospital now, I promise. I’ll get you there, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to you or the babies, okay?"

As he started the car, his mind raced. He had planned for this moment, had rehearsed it in his head a thousand times, but now that it was happening, he felt completely unprepared. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and he glanced over at Y/N, who was trying to remain calm despite the pain.

Matt hated seeing her in so much pain, his heart aching with every sharp intake of breath she made.

"Okay, okay, we’re going. We’re going." He muttered to himself as he pulled out of the driveway, his voice a mix of determination and barely contained panic. The streets of Los Angeles blurred past them as he sped toward the hospital, his mind racing with all the things he needed to do.

"Siri!" He suddenly barked at the car’s dashboard, his voice urgent. "Send a text to Chris and Nick."

"What would you like to say?" Siri responded in its calm, robotic tone.

"Um... Uh..." Matt hesitated, trying to form a coherent sentence as he glanced nervously at Y/N, who was breathing heavily beside him. "Tell them... we’re on our way to the hospital. Y/N's in labor. Get there by tomorrow morning. And don’t panic like I am because... just get there!"

"Sending message to Chris and Nick." Siri confirmed, and Matt let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he continued driving.

Y/N chuckled softly, despite the pain, and Matt shot her a quick, incredulous look.

"What? What's funny?"

"You are." She managed to say between contractions. "You're... adorable when you're freaking out."

Matt’s face flushed as he gave her a sheepish grin.

"I'm just trying to keep it together here, baby. You’re the one doing all the hard work."

"Trust me... I know." She replied, wincing as another contraction rolled through her.

Finally, they pulled up to the hospital entrance, and Matt jumped out of the car, nearly forgetting to put it in park in his haste to get to Y/N's side. He waved frantically at a nurse standing nearby, who immediately came over with a wheelchair.

"She's in labor! It's happening! We need to- she needs- help!" Matt's words tumbled out in a rush as he helped Y/N into the wheelchair, his voice rising in pitch with every word.

The nurse smiled reassuringly, clearly used to panicked fathers-to-be, and guided them inside.

"Don’t worry, we'll take good care of her. Just follow me."

As they were whisked away to the delivery room, Matt's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of what was about to happen. He couldn't believe that in just a few hours, they would finally meet their babies.

Once in the right room, Y/N was settled onto the bed, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts as the contractions intensified. Matt stayed by her side, clutching her hand as if it was his only lifeline. He leaned in close, his voice trembling but filled with love as he whispered,

"You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes locking onto his.

"I need you to stay calm, okay? We've got this... together."

Matt nodded, swallowing hard as he brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"Together. I’m right here with you, every step of the way."

The room buzzed with activity, doctors and nurses moving around with practiced efficiency, but all Matt could focus on was Y/N’s face, her eyes squeezed shut as she battled through another contraction.

Time seemed to warp in the delivery room. Minutes stretched into hours, the pain of each contraction relentless, only broken by brief moments of respite. Matt stayed by Y/N’s side, his voice soft and steady as he encouraged her, even though his own nerves were frayed to the core. He watched the monitors anxiously, every beep and flicker, causing his heart to jump.

"Matt." Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion as another contraction hit. "I can’t... I don’t know if I can do this."

Matt’s heart broke at the sight of her so vulnerable, so exhausted. He took a deep breath, brushing a few strands of hair away from her sweaty forehead and leaning in close, his lips brushing her temple.

"You’re the strongest person I know." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You’ve got this, baby. I’m right here with you. And in the end, everything will be worth it, yeah?"

Hours later, after what felt like a lifetime of labor, the doctor finally said the words they had been waiting to hear.

"It's time to push."

Y/N gritted her teeth, her entire body trembling with the effort as she bore down, Matt’s hand in hers, his words of encouragement a constant in the whirlwind of pain and exhaustion. The room seemed to close in around them, everything else fading away as they focused on bringing their babies into the world.

"Breath." Matt murmured, his hand gently rubbing her tense shoulders. "Just focus on your breathing. In and out, slow and steady. You got this, sweet girl. It's almost ending."

The first cry shattered the tension in the room, a tiny wail that echoed in Matt’s ears like the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He watched in awe as the doctor carefully lifted their first baby - a tiny, wriggling girl - into the air.

Time seemed to freeze as the nurse quickly wrapped her in a blanket and handed her to Y/N. Matt felt tears well up in his eyes as he looked down at his daughter for the first time. She was perfect, with a shock of dark hair and rosy cheeks, her eyes squeezed shut as she continued to cry.

"She’s beautiful." Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face as she cradled their daughter against her chest, gluing her small head to her chin. Matt leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, his own tears finally spilling over.

But the moment was short-lived as Y/N was hit with another wave of contractions. The doctor quickly reminded them that there was still one more baby to bring into the world, taking their daughter away from them so Y/N could concentrate.

"One more, honey. Just one more. You can do this. You're so strong, I know you can." Y/N, though exhausted, steeled herself for the final round, and with Matt’s unwavering support, she pushed again.

Minutes later, another cry filled the room, this one just as heart-wrenching and beautiful as the first. Their son was born, his tiny fists clenched as he wailed with the full force of his little lungs.

"I don't... I don't know how to hold- Oh, okay." The nurse placed him in Matt’s arms, ignoring his sentence. He stared down at his son in awe, his arms trembling with fear of holding him in the wrong way, or worse, dropping him.

The baby boy was the spitting image of his sister, with the same dark hair and tiny features, though his cries were slightly less intense.

"He's... he's so small." Matt whispered in awe.

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he carried his son over to Y/N - who was already holding their girl again -, his heart swelling with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. He gently placed their son in Y/N’s free arm, and for the first time, they looked down at their twins together, their hearts filled with an indescribable mixture of joy, relief, and pure, unconditional love.

"We did it." Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she looked up at Matt, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They’re here, and they’re perfect."

Matt could only nod, his throat too tight with emotion to speak. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his daughter’s tiny forehead, then his son’s, feeling the warmth of their little bodies against his skin. They were so small, so fragile, and yet so full of life.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over the quiet scene. Y/N was resting peacefully, her exhaustion from the previous night’s labor evident in the serene expression on her face as she slept. The twins were nestled in their bassinets beside the bed, their tiny chests rising and falling in a synchronized rhythm, the only sounds in the room being their soft breathing.

Matt sat in the armchair near the window, his eyes moving between Y/N and their newborns, a small smile playing on his lips. He had hardly slept, but he didn’t mind. He was too filled with wonder, still wrapping his mind around the fact that he was now a father to two perfect little beings. The magnitude of the moment wasn’t lost on him, and every time he looked at his family, his heart swelled with a mixture of pride and overwhelming love.

Just then, a soft knock on the door drew Matt’s attention. He stood up quickly, careful not to disturb Y/N, and opened the door to find Nick and Chris standing in the hallway. Both of his brothers looked a little disheveled, their hair slightly messy from a night of restless sleep. Chris held a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and Nick had a stuffed animal - a small bear with a yellow bow - tucked under his arm. The moment they saw Matt, their faces broke into wide grins.

"Hey, Dad." Nick joked softly, giving Matt a one-armed hug while still holding the bear. "How’s it feel?"

Matt chuckled, the sound low and full of affection.

"Surreal." He admitted, stepping back to let them in. "Come on, they’re right over here."

Chris was the first to approach the bassinets, his breath catching as he looked down at the sleeping twins. He placed the bouquet on a nearby table, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out, but then hesitated, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful scene. Nick followed, standing beside him, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of his new niece and nephew.

"They’re so tiny." Chris whispered, his voice cracking as he looked over at Matt, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Oh, my God, Matt... they’re so small."

Nick nodded, his usual bravado momentarily stripping away as he gazed at the twins.

"Yeah." He added, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "How is this possible?"

Matt felt a lump form in his throat, seeing the raw emotion on his brothers’ faces. He watched as Chris finally let out a shaky breath and reached down, his fingers gently brushing against his niece’s tiny hand. The touch seemed to undo him completely, and within seconds, tears spilled over, streaming down his cheeks.

"Chris." Matt said softly, his voice full of understanding as he placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. "It’s okay, man."

But Chris couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, he just nodded, tears continuing to fall as he stood there, overwhelmed by the sight of his niece and nephew. He had always been the emotional one, the heart-on-his-sleeve brother, and in this moment, he felt everything with an intensity that was impossible to contain.

Nick, on the other hand, was struggling to maintain his composure. He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. He wanted to be strong, to keep it together, but seeing Chris break down and knowing just how much this moment meant, even he couldn’t hold back completely. He let out a shaky breath, wiping his eyes quickly.

Matt noticed Nick’s struggle and gave him a reassuring smile.

"It’s okay to cry, you know." He said quietly, his own eyes misting over. "They’re your niece and nephew. This is a big moment."

Nick managed a small, watery laugh, shaking his head.

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Matt grinned, pulling both of his brothers into a tight hug. The three of them stood there for a moment, embracing each other, their silent bond stronger than ever before. When they finally pulled away, Chris wiped at his eyes, sniffling a little as he turned back to the twins.

"Can we hold them?" Chris asked, his voice still shaky but filled with awe.

"Of course." Matt replied, his heart warming at the thought of his brothers meeting their niece and nephew properly. He carefully lifted his son from the bassinet, gently cradling the tiny bundle before handing him to Chris. "This is your nephew." He said, watching as Chris took the baby with the utmost care, as if he were the most delicate thing in the world.

Chris’s breath hitched as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

"Hey, little guy." He whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m your Uncle Chris. You’re going to be so loved, I promise."

Nick took his niece from Matt, holding her close, his eyes wide with wonder as he gazed at her tiny features.

"Hi, princess." He murmured, his voice soft. "I’m your Uncle Nick. And don’t worry, I’ll always have your back. You’re in good hands."

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, but when the little girl's tiny hand grasped his finger, Nick’s composure slipped. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears, but a few escaped, trailing down his cheeks.

"They're perfect... You and Y/N did good, Matt."

Matt felt his own eyes sting with tears as he watched his brothers, their love for his children evident in every trembling breath, every tear they tried to hold back.

"They really are." He whispered, his voice filled with pride as he watched his brothers bond with their niece and nephew.

The soft rustling of sheets drew Matt’s attention back to the bed, and he saw Y/N slowly stirring, her eyes fluttering open. She looked groggy, her movements sluggish as she tried to orient herself.

"Matt?" She called out, her voice hoarse and weak, a faint frown creasing her brow as she tried to sit up.

Matt was by her side in an instant, his hand gently brushing her hair back.

"I'm here, baby." He said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "The babies are right here, and Nick and Chris are with us."

Y/N’s gaze shifted to where Nick and Chris stood, each cradling a baby in their arms. Her eyes softened, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips as she saw them.

"Hey, guys." She murmured, her voice raspy but filled with warmth.

"Hey, Y/N." Chris replied, his voice thick with emotion as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the baby boy close to his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I’ve been hit by a truck." Y/N joked weakly, managing a small laugh despite her exhaustion. She reached out for Matt, her eyes pleading for his help. "Can you help me sit up? I want to hold them."

"Of course." Matt said, his voice tender as he gently supported her back, helping her sit up against the pillows. He adjusted the bed to make her more comfortable, his movements careful and precise, always mindful of her comfort.

Once she was settled, Y/N looked at her babies, a rush of love flooding her system. Chris carefully handed her their son, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he watched Y/N cradle the tiny bundle in her arms. The baby boy squirmed slightly, his little face scrunching up as he nestled into Y/N’s embrace, and Y/N felt her heart melt at the sight.

"Hi, sweet boy." Y/N whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks as she pressed a soft kiss to her son's forehead. "Mommy’s here."

Nick, still holding their daughter, hesitated for a moment before offering her to Matt, a silent question in his eyes. Matt nodded, and Nick carefully placed the baby girl into his brother’s arms. The little girl yawned, her tiny fist curling up near her face, and Matt felt his heart swell with a fierce, protective love as he looked down at his daughter.

"She's got your eyes." Nick teased softly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"And her nose." Chris added, his voice still wavering with emotion.

Y/N smiled, looking at Matt, who was gazing down at their daughter with such love and awe that it made her heart ache in the best way. She could see the tears in his eyes, the overwhelming emotion that he was trying so hard to keep in check, and it made her love him even more.

"It's like I've waited my whole life for this moment."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Ready?" Matt asked, his voice soft as he looked over at Y/N, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she gazed back at him.

"Ready." She whispered, her voice steady, filled with a quiet determination.

They walked up the path of their house together, Matt balancing his baby boy in one arm while Y/N held onto his other arm. The front door, painted in a cheerful shade of brown, seemed to welcome them home as they stepped inside. The familiar scent of home - fresh linen, a hint of lavender, and the comforting smell of wood - washed over them as they crossed the threshold.

Matt paused in the entryway, taking a deep breath as he looked around. Everything was exactly as they had left it, but now it felt different, infused with the anticipation of this new chapter.

"Welcome home, little lovies." Y/N whispered, leaning down and brushing her lips against her daughter’s small head covered by her light pink beanie.

Matt led the way, his steps slow and deliberate as he carried their son into the living room. He paused in the center of the room, turning in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Look, little guy, this is where we'll spend most of our time together." He said softly, his voice taking on a warm, inviting tone as if he were talking directly to the babies. "Right here, in this room. We'll have family movie nights, and you’ll play with your many toys on the rug... and when you’re a little bigger, we’ll build forts with blankets and cushions."

Y/N followed him, her heart swelling with love as she listened to him talk. She could see it all so clearly in her mind; tiny feet pattering across the hardwood floor, peals of laughter filling the air as they chased each other around the coffee table, and sleepy cuddles on the couch after a long day of playing. It was the life they had dreamed of, and now it was finally real.

"And this." Matt continued softly, leading Y/N out of the living room and down the hallway to the master bedroom. "Is Mama and Dada's room."

He pushed the white door open, revealing the room they had shared for a year now - after they moved in to their own shared house -, now feeling so much more significant with the addition of their new roles as parents. The bed was neatly made, the pillows fluffed and arranged just the way Y/N liked them, and the soft curtains billowed slightly in the breeze from the open window.

"This is where you’ll come when you need comfort." Matt said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at their son, still cradled in his arms. "Where you'll crawl into bed with us on stormy nights, or just because you want to be close. And we'll always be here, waiting to hold you, to keep you safe."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Matt, her heart overflowing with love for him, for their children, for the life they were building together.

"They’re so lucky to have you as their dad." She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I’m so lucky to have you as my partner in this."

Matt’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes filled with the depth of his love.

"I'm the lucky one." He murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I get to spend my life with you and our beautiful babies. I don’t think I could ever ask for more."

Leaving the bedroom, Matt led them to the one right by the side, stopping in front of a door that had been carefully painted in soft pastels. He pushed it open gently, revealing the nursery inside. The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, and the soft colors of the walls and furniture created a peaceful, serene atmosphere.

"Now, this is your room." Matt said softly, his voice full of pride and love as he stepped inside.

He carefully set the bag that was held by his free arm down on the plush rug in the center of the room, turning to Y/N as she entered behind him.

"We've spent so much time getting it ready for you." Y/N muttered, her eyes shining as she looked around the room.

"That's right. This is where you'll sleep, where you'll have sweet dreams and where we'll sing you lullabies every night. Also, where your mama is going to read all those cute little stories every day."

Y/N carefully placed their daughter in the crib, brushing her fingers over the soft white blankets they had chosen with so much care. She looked around the room, her heart swelling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of love.

"It’s so beautiful." She whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she looked up at Matt, her eyes lowering to her baby boy still on his arms, his big blue eyes now appearing smaller with the heaviness of sleep that dominated them. "They’re going to be so happy here."

Matt’s hand found hers, their fingers intertwining as they stood together, looking down at their tiny daughter, who was already drifting off to sleep in the crib.

"We all are."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

I also wrote it while listening to a really beautiful brazilian song about pregnancy. I'm gonna let it right below so yall can listen to it and see the translation through Spotify! 🩷

© vanteguccir

[simpson12]

OH MY GOD IM SOBBING THIS IS SO GOODD

dirty voicemails ⌗2 c. s

in which . . . after a toxic breakup, cocky ex-boyfriend ( chris ) leaves a series of explicit, obsessive voicemails detailing sex with other women, run-ins with your family, and his inability to let go—until the you finally breaks you silence in a final message.

content warnings . . . this story contains strong themes of emotional manipulation, obsessive behavior, explicit sexual content ( including audio depictions of sex acts ), toxic relationships, stalking ( implied ), references to emotional distress, and one instance of crying/self-deprecating language from the reader. listener discretion is advised.

voicemail ⌗9 . . . 1:12am

muffled thuds. rhythmic. he’s fucking someone again. louder this time. rough.

“you like that? yeah? bet you wish i was thinkin’ about you—guess what, baby…”

a harsh grunt.

“i am.”

the girl moans too loud. he slaps her ass.

“gonna send you a picture after this. just her mouth. you always hated when i shared.”

he laughs.

“so i’m sharing you now.” click.

voicemail ⌗10 . . . 6:38pm

wind. a car door slamming. he’s outside. engine on.

“just drove past your place. lights were on. that the new guy’s car?”

a scoff.

“hope he knows you like your hair pulled and your neck bit ‘til you cry.”

you can hear his blinker. he doesn’t finish his turn.

“you peeked out. don’t act like you didn’t. you’re still lookin’ for me.” click.

voicemail ⌗11 . . . 3:11pm

store sounds. background music.

“ran into your mom.”

he’s too calm. too casual.

“she asked how i was doing. i said i was thriving.”

a pause. a breathy laugh.

“she looked sad. she liked me, huh?”

bags crinkling. footsteps.

“i wanted to ask if she missed me. i didn’t.” click.

voicemail ⌗12 . . . 11:59pm

more fucking. more moaning. desperate, messy.

“fuck, i can’t—shit, you used to look back at me just like that.”

his voice strains. like he’s trying not to say your name again.

“don’t stop—don’t stop—fuck—”

he comes with a low growl. the girl’s still going. he tells her to stop.

long silence.

“she doesn’t sound like you.” click.

voicemail ⌗13 . . . 8:06am

coffee brewing. birds outside.

“your neighbor waved at me.”

he yawns.

“i was parked outside for like twenty minutes. just… sitting there.”

“i almost knocked. had a whole speech. ‘you ruined me, but i still love you.’ pathetic, right?”

“anyway. hope your cereal’s good.” click.

voicemail ⌗14 . . . 10:45pm

music again. but this time it’s the playlist you made.

“every song reminds me of you. this one’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

he hums along.

“funny how you can ghost someone and still haunt them.”

a drink clinks. a sigh.

“fuck you. but not really.” click.

voicemail ⌗15 . . . 12:03am

outside sounds. cars. his feet scuffing gravel.

“you wore that hoodie i left, huh?”

“your sister posted a story. you still wear it. guess you’re not over me either.”

he sniffles.

“god, i was such a dick to you. i know that.”

“but you… you never stopped being soft. even when i didn’t deserve it.”

“i hate myself sometimes.” click.

voicemail ⌗16 . . . 2:46am

from you.

your voice is raw. like you’ve been crying for hours.

“i can’t do this anymore, chris.”

sniffling. shaky breath.

“i tried to forget you. tried to move on. but you keep showing up. in my phone. in my fucking head. every time someone touches me, it’s your name i almost say.”

your voice cracks. a sob.

“i loved you. more than anything. and you ruined me.”

long pause.

“stop calling me. please.”

click.

ding .ᐟ

[ clear your voicemail. voicemail full. ]

no more space left. no more messages.

ding .ᐟ

[ clear your voicemail. voicemail full. ]

[simpson12]

@bernardsbendystraws also using this! will tag when fic is posted!

Like, Reblog, and tag @bernardsbendystraws when using pls <333

Requested by @cockettechris — STURNIOLO TOUR DIVIDERS

[simpson12]

@bernardsbendystraws using these in my post! will tag when posted!

Like and Reblog. Credit by tagging. Do not claim as your own.

Made for @sturnioz ; specifically my fucking FAV—Shy!Matt?!!!?!!

[simpson12]

chris puts a baby in you because he doesn’t wanna lose you (is this baby trapping? maybe? kinda? a tiny) just can’t stop thinking about it dgkkgf

I hope you like what I came up with. 💖

Chris puts a baby in you to make you all his...

Chris had you stretched around his cock, his length buried deep inside of your slick cunt, as he steadily rocked his hips back and forth, hitting the perfect spot every time. "Come on, baby. Let me cum inside," Chris pouted at you.

Your boyfriend had been begging you for months to let him get you pregnant. He wanted you all for himself, to claim you, to fill you up. He couldn't stand the thought of ever losing you. He wanted to forever mark you as his.

"Chris.." you huffed, getting ready to protest his wishes, but he cut you off with a kiss. His lips crashed into yours, and he purred into your mouth, the vibration tickling your lip as he fucked you. You couldn't deny the way it turned you on to have Chris beg you to pump you full of his cum, and you secretly loved the idea of being pregnant with his baby.

He cradled your face, gazing into your eyes while he mounted you, thrusting into you harder and deeper. "Please, baby. Let me fill up your pretty pussy," he softly whimpered, a warm feeling buzzing in his core as he neared his climax.

You were starting to really like the idea, and it was hard for you to say no to Chris when he looked at you so sweetly like that with his puppy dog eyes and his lip caught between his teeth in desperation. You nodded at his request, unable to hide the effect his word choice had on you.

"I'm gonna put a baby in you right here," Chris smirked down at you as he pressed down on the bulge he made in your tummy. A stream of moans passed through your lips as you tightened your grip on the sheets beneath you. Your arched your back off the bed as you started throbbing around his length.

He continued to pound into you, overwhelmed by the sensation of you finishing onto him. "Good girl," he whispered before his orgasm got the better of him. He held your hips in place, bucking his hips forward until his cock was as deep as it could go into your drooling cunt.

He threw his head back, releasing a guttural moan as he pumped his pretty, pearly white cum into your pussy. He held himself there for a moment until he was completely drained, emptying every lost drop into you as he shuddered from the earth-shattering pleasure.

A smile spread across his pink lips and his eyes twinkled as he slowly pulled his length out of your hole and spread you open to get a better look at the way it filled you. It was like he was claiming his territory every time he finished inside you, and the added risk of getting you pregnant made it that much hotter to him.

"Wow. Look at that," he whispered, gawking at the scene that played out before him, the way it slowly dribbled out as your cunt continued to pulse. "Your sweet little pussy is all mine."

[simpson12]

UM HELLO THIS ATEEE

Dead dove: do not eat 💖 Hiii, it's @ariestrxsh and this is my secondary account. Here is my contribution to kinktober. I know the Ghostface trope has been done so many times, but I figured it would still be a fun little smut to write in honor of Halloween.

👻🎀 content warning: smut, degradation, predator/prey dynamic, restraints, knife play, blood play, ghostface!matt, ghostface!chris, slutty!reader

👻🎀 author's note: idk if this would be considered a dead dove: do not eat fic, but it certainly contains some rather dark material, so i'd rather label it that way to be safe. also, my reader's slutty nun outfit may offend you if you're religious, so please scroll and don't read if it's going to upset you.

👻🎀 summary: you're throwing a halloween party at your house in a remote area. the night becomes like a thrilling, real-life horror movie after your friends, matt and chris both show up dressed as the infamous ghostface.

masquerade

"What are you guys going as tonight?" You asked Nick, Matt, and Chris as the four of you aimlessly wandered around the Halloween store that was littered with all the decor you could dream of for the party you were throwing later. You'd done most of your holiday shopping a few weeks prior, but you just needed a few final touches to complete the vibe you were going for.

"I'm going as Stu Macher," Nick responded, fiddling with some tacky Halloween decoration. "I'm going as Ghostface," Chris confidently replied, and your gaze softened as you pictured him in one of those sexy masks.

"Hey, what the fuck, Chris? I'm going as Ghostface," Matt slugged Chris in the arm. Your breath caught in your throat, and your lips fell open as you pictured them both in the Ghostface costume. "Relax. That'll make it more fun. Then no one will know who's who," Chris smirked. "People already have a hard time telling us apart," Matt rolled his eyes.

"What are you going as?" Nick asked you, ignoring his brothers. "Well, I'm going to be the only one out of the four of us who isn't going as a Scream character. But it's going to be a surprise," you told them, wandering over towards a giant cauldron that caught your eye.

"What are you going to use that for?" Matt asked. "Punch bowl! Isn't it perfect?" You asked, picking it up and cradling it in your arms as the four of you continued through the store. "Can you at least give us a hint about what you're going to dress up as?" Chris playfully poked you in the side.

"All I can tell you is, it's gonna be sexy, and you're gonna thank God when you see me in it. I'm trying to get laid tonight," you proudly stated as the four of you headed over to the checkout counter to pay.

Nick, Matt, and Chris dropped you back off at your place, which was out in the middle of nowhere, so you could finish setting up, and so they could change into their costumes. You thought it was fitting you lived in a secluded part of your town's national forest and didn't have any neighbors for miles.

You'd just finished putting out the last of the decorum when people started trickling in. You had fake spiderwebs strewn in every corner, a smoke machine, and a black light.

You were just thinking about how excited you were for the boys to see you in your glowing slutty nun outfit when the doorbell rang, and as you pulled open your creaky front door, you saw Nick covered in fake blood accompanied by a pair of Ghostfaces, the whites of their masks lit up by the black light. "Look at you!" Nick gasped as you gave them a twirl. Chris and Matt's eyes were immediately drawn to your exposed chest and your bare thighs.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me!" You jokingly shrieked, placing your hands on your cheeks and making a fake surprised face. "You look really good," one of them said to you. "So do you guys," you seductively replied, nibbling on your lower lip and looking at the three of them, but especially Matt and Chris. You had a bit of a thing for masked men.

They shuffled into your house, admiring the way you had decorated. More guests started arriving, and the party started to really take off. Nick started hitting it off with a guy you worked with who was dressed as a skeleton, which left you, Matt, and Chris alone.

"You guys wanna scare Nick tonight?" Matt asked menacingly, tilting his head in his ghostface mask, which had no business being as hot as it was. You bit your lip at him.

Chris could tell you were entranced by the costume. "Like the mask, sweetheart?" Chris asked in a deep, menacingly voice that was strikingly familiar to that of the original Ghostface, taking his 'prop' weapon and running the edge along your cheek, but the metal was sharp and cold. "Shut the fuck up. Oh my god, is that a real knife?" You asked him, staring wide-eyed at it.

"Yeah, why does that scare you? Or do you like it?" Chris said in a spooky voice. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Neither. You guys are so immature. Have fun scaring Nick. I'm gonna go enjoy my party and try to find someone to hook up with. Try not to cut anyone with that thing."

You rolled your eyes at them and pushed past them, trying to hide the effect they were having on you. Both sets of eyes traveled to your ass as you walked away. "Why don't we play a prank on her instead?" Matt inquired. "Yeah, she could use a little loosening up," Chris responded.

You couldn't deny that the way Chris had put that blade up to your cheek while he was dressed like that was having a rather strong effect on you, an effect so strong that you desperately wanted to turn back around, grab them by their solid black robes, and beg them both to rail you while they wore their Ghostface attire.

You'd always found them both attractive, but they were your good friends, and most nights that the sexual thoughts about them creeped into your psyche, you were able to will it away, or something you'd never admit out loud to - sometimes you'd just take care of the aching between your legs really quickly, and the thoughts would usually dissipate on their own, but tonight was different.

You could feel a damp warmth between your thighs as you sauntered off in another direction to greet some of your other friends, but even as you asked them how the party was and tried to get your mind off of the Sturniolo boys, you found yourself peeking over your shoulder, stealing glances at them, and losing your inner battle with yourself to fight off your urges.

It had been so long, and you were so horny.

"I think that guy over there is checking you out," your friend who had animals ears on nudged you and glanced off in the direction of the punch bowl you'd bought earlier. Your eye caught a tall man with zombie makeup on that you didn't recognize grabbing himself a cup of spiked punch, his gaze flicking up at you every few seconds. You thought he was kind of cute.

"Go talk to him," your friend urged you, lovingly squeezing your arm. You took one more glance in the direction of where Matt and Chris had been standing just moments ago, seriously considering trying to pursue one of them instead, but when your eyes scanned over the crowd, you didn't see either one of them. You'd missed your chance.

"Okay, fine," you whispered to your friend, rolling your eyes and working up the courage to approach him. You took a deep breath and headed in his direction.

"Hey, do I know you?" You asked, grabbing yourself a red solo cup and serving yourself some alcoholic punch. "You know, some would say your costume is offensive," he said, ignoring your question and motioning towards your exposed breasts in your very ungodly outfit.

"Then why don't you rip it off of me?" You flirtatiously shot back. He looked unamused with you.

"Hey, so, what's the deal with your friend?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink and his gaze looking past you to where you were previously standing. "Oh, my friend," you said in a slightly disappointed tone, realizing you'd just approached and been very forward with a man who had been interested in the girl standing next to you the whole time.

You started back off in the direction you came from, and your friend glanced over at the embarrassment in your expression. "What happened? Was he a dick to you?" She asked, concern in her eyes while she cradled your face. You could understand why he was looking at her instead of you.

"No, nothing like that. If you think he's cute, you should go talk to him. I'll be right back," you responded, feeling your face get hot. You pushed past a crowd of people to get to the bottom of your staircase, and you hurried up the steps before your tears could fall.

It wasn't so much that you were upset about not getting the guy. You weren't even that interested in him. It was a combination of a few things, really.

It was the humiliation of misreading the situation, the insecurity you felt about not being as pretty as your friends, and the constant self-doubt you had about whether you really were a slut like everyone called you and if any guy would ever want you again because of it.

Through your teary vision, your bedroom door caught your eye. You stopped dead in your tracks, sniffling and wiping away your tears as alarm bells went off in your nervous system.

Your bedroom door was wide open, and you swore you'd shut it before the first few guests had arrived. You walked through the door frame cautiously, overwhelmed by a sensation of having eyes on you, studying your surroundings to see if anything else was out of place.

You shrugged off the feeling of being watched, chalking it up to the fact that it was Halloween, and you had been watching a lot of thriller and horror movies in the couple weeks leading up to your party.

You made your way over to the bathroom sink, setting down your red solo cup on the cold countertop and peering at your reflection in the mirror. You didn't want to spend Halloween night sulking in your bathroom while your two hot best friends were downstairs, strutting around in their sexy Ghostface attire and probably finding other girls to sleep with.

You cleaned off the eyeliner that was smudging on your bottom eyelid, glued the corner of your eyelash back down, and readjusted your breasts in your costume.

After fixing the imperfections with your wardrobe, you decided you weren't going to let the night end without taking a stab at trying to have sex with whichever one of the Sturniolo brothers you saw first, excluding Nick of course. You were done pretending like you weren't completely taken with them.

Your gaze flickered over to the reflection of your partially open closet door in the mirror. Again, you could have sworn you'd left it closed. Filled with dread, you slowly tiptoed out of the bathroom, past your bed, and over to your closet. You rested your hand on the round, metal door knob and slowly pushed it shut.

You realized how ridiculous you were being, rolling your eyes at yourself and letting out a sigh at how jumpy you'd been lately. You turned back around and started to head out of your bedroom when all of a sudden, you heard the sound of the closet door creaking open again.

Before you could spin yourself around and identify the threat, you felt a gloved hand cover your mouth and a cold, sharp blade resting against your neck. "What's your favorite scary movie?" The way his voice came through sounding just like Ghostface had you both scared and turned on.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out an audible moan against his palm, causing him to pull his hand back. "What was that?" Chris accusingly asked, speaking like himself again. "What the fuck? How do you make your voice sound like that?" You asked in a shaky voice.

He chuckled in your ear, avoiding your inquiry. "Answer me first. What was that sound you just made?" Chris posed the question again. "Nothing. Real funny, Chris. Let me go," you responded.

Another figure appeared in the corner of your eye as Matt walked around in his Ghostface costume, shutting your bedroom door closed. Your heart dropped as you watched him lock it and make his way back over to you. "Let you go? Are you sure you want that?" Matt cooed, running the back of his gloved hand along your cheek and tilting his head down at you. You gulped.

"Is this turning you on?" Chris whispered into your ear. "Gross," you rolled your eyes. "Only one way to find out," Matt menacingly replied. "Why don't you check her, Matt?" Chris smirked under his mask.

Your mouth fell open, and a strangled whimper came through as Matt reached between your legs, lifting up your skirt and slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Immediately, he felt the wetness leak through his glove.

"Oh, she's soaked. Her clit practically has its own heartbeat," Matt relayed to his brother, drawing circles on it with his fingers and talking about you as if you weren't in the room with them. "I bet she'd like it if we took care of that. Don't you think?" Chris wondered, dragging the blade across your collar bone and between your partially exposed breasts.

You couldn't hold back your delighted sounds as they both put their hands on you. It was like a dream come true. Your prayers had been answered. You'd fantasized about them each separately, but the idea of having them both take you on at the same time didn't even seem like an option until now.

"What's turning you on so much? The mask? The knife? The fact that it's me and Matt?" Chris cooed at you, pulling your top down to reveal your tits. He took the knife and started running the sharp edge against your nipples that stiffened at the touch. You immediately shuddered and let out a whimper.

"All of it?" Matt wondered, continuing to play with your pussy that was becoming wetter by the second. "Answer him, slut. What's got you all wet, hmm?" Chris growled into your ear. Of course, it hurt your feelings to be called that, but there was something about the way Chris said it so endearingly that it didn't seem like he was trying to do anything other than turn you on, and it was working.

"Nothing, it's completely unrelated," you lied, biting your lip to hold back another moan, but your attempts failed, and your head fell back against Chris' chest. You felt his hard cock against your backside, and it twitched at the way you struggled to keep yourself composed. "Yeah, mine's unrelated, too," Chris replied sarcastically, staring down at your tits as he continued to tease them with his knife.

You felt Matt's fingers slip into your hole as he started to fuck you with them. "You want us to stop?" Matt asked. You nibbled on your lip and softly shook your head no. "That's what I thought. She's such a little slut," Chris said to his brother. "Don't you know it's always the slut who dies first?" Chris rasped into your ear.

"Oh, she likes that," Matt cooed, feeling your pussy start to throb around his fingers. You tried to hide your reactions, but your body language couldn't keep your secret from the two pairs of Ghostfaces who manhandled you.

"You still never told us your favorite scary movie," Chris pointed out. "Blair Witch Project," you hesitantly answered. "Mmm. That's a scary one. Especially when you live out here," Matt replied. Chris leaned over to Matt and whispered something in his ear that you couldn't quite make out.

"Lay on the fucking bed, slut," Chris responded as they both let you go. "We're gonna go have a little chat in the other room, and you're gonna lay right here and behave," Matt ordered you. "And if you try to run, you're gonna be really sorry," Chris said, waving the knife in your direction.

They both disappeared behind your bathroom door. You heard the sound of Chris and Matt arguing behind the wooden barrier about who was going to have their way with you first, but you had another idea.

When they both emerged from the bathroom, you were gone, and on your nightstand was a note that read: "come find me in the woods, mr. ghostface. xoxo, your prey" with a heart drawn below the lettering.

"Oh, that sneaky bitch thinks she can be in charge of her own fate. We're gonna have fun with her tonight," Chris told Matt as he picked up the note.

They both disappeared out of the room, down the stairs, and out the backdoor towards the dense treeline behind your house with a flashlight Matt had snagged off your kitchen counter.

All they had to do was listen quietly for a few minutes beneath the blanket of stars and clouds, and then they heard you, crushing twigs and leaves under your weight as you tried to stealthily make your way through the forest.

All of a sudden, you were lit up by the flashlight Matt held in hands. "Gotcha," he said in a menacing voice. You froze and stared at them both, unable to move a muscle. "Think you're so slick, huh?" Chris asked in a low, sexy rasp.

"You know what would make this so much more fun? If she had to guess who's who while we take turns fucking her," Matt suggested, taking a few steps towards you. "And if she guesses wrong, we'll make her bleed," Chris laughed, closing in on you as well.

You'd never seen this side of the two brothers, but it excited you more than you were willing to admit.

You started slowly walking backward until you backed into a tree, and you swallowed hard as you felt its rough trunk under your palms, realizing you didn't have anywhere to go.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Spare me!" You whined, but you couldn't hold back your smirk as Matt pulled the knife out of his robe and cut your costume from your body. You gasped as the fabric fell the floor in front of your feet. You'd never imagined your night would go like this. In fact, this was hotter than anything you could have ever dreamt up.

"We told you that you'd regret running." It was that same ominous, threatening, and sexy voice that Chris had used earlier in the night, so that must have been him. "I thought we told you to behave," said the other, sounding just like the first one. Fuck, you thought.

You watched as the boy with the knife started to cut a hole in his robe, and your eyes widened, and your jaw fell open as you realized what he was doing. You watched as his dick poked through the black fabric, staring you down. He handed off the knife to his brother.

"Since you like to run, one of us is going to have to hold you still," the second one said pinning your wrists above your head with one hand with the other, he held the blade up in front of your face. You saw yourself in the reflection of the sharp metal accompanied by the man in the Ghostface mask beside you, and it sent goosebumps across your flesh.

He closed the distance between the weapon and your breasts, and he started tracing your nipples again with the knife's edge. Your chest rose and fell as your breath quickened. You peered at the boy who was settling between your legs, grabbing ahold of his big, veiny cock with his gloved hand as he started pumping it back and forth a few times, making sure it had reached its full potential.

He hiked up your leg, wrapped your thigh around his waist, and pulled your panties to the side before sinking it into your heat and stretching you out. "So tight," he groaned deeply, feeling the way you gripped his dick. You let out a few loud moans as you adjusted to his size, taking every inch of him.

"That's it. Take it like the slut you are," he gruffed, picking up the pace and wrapping his gloved fingers around your neck. "Like that?" The boy who was holding your wrists cooed as he dragged the sharp object across to your other peak.

You loved the way both Ghostface masks reflected your fear back at you as well as your pleasure, their empty eyes, and their contorted mouths, taunting you. You glanced back at the brother who was between your legs, focusing on his thrusts. His fast and powerful thrusts.

Every time he bottomed out in you, a desperate mewl escaped your lips, filling the atmosphere. The masked man started to mimick the sounds that poured from your mouth while his brother fucked you, and you adored every second of it.

You loved the way they were feeding your sick fantasies, holding you at knife point, wearing their sexy costumes, and fucking you dumb while they degraded you. Your sounds became louder, more urgent, and less inhibited. You could feel the intensity building.

"Scream for me, bitch," the man between your legs chuckled. His mean words, his hand around your throat, the movement of his hips, and the cold, sharp metal dancing across your skin were enough to cause you to snap.

You hit the point of no return, clenching around the mystery man's rod, sending him to the same fate shortly after. You could feel his twitching cock filling you up as your orgasm took its course, the two of you moaning in unison while you finished together. Your legs grew weak as you came.

"Oh my god, Chris. Matt. Whoever you are," you breathlessly panted. You thought for sure you'd be able to tell them apart by now, but you had no idea, and you found it all the more enticing.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, slowing down his thrusts, pulling out, and watching his seed flow out of you. He stared down in awe at the mess he made, taking in the sight and savoring it while his breathing pattern returned to normal.

"I've been waiting for this," the boy to your left said as he switched places with his brother. He took the knife, hooking it into your panties and slicing the delicate material, watching the fabric fall to the ground and revealing your pretty pussy to him.

Then he cut a hole in his robe like his brother had done, and you peered down at his gorgeous cock poking through the tear in the material.

He roughly pried open your legs, guiding them open with the blade. He dug into the inside of your right thigh with his gloved hand and rested the knife on your lower stomach. You couldn't keep yourself from admiring his big, throbbing dick, and you sharply inhaled as you felt him slip his tip into your entrance.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned as he bucked his hips forward, his entire length vanisihing into your tight hole. Your eyes flicked back up to his Ghostface attire, taking in the incredible view of being fucked by a man in such a sexy mask.

The man beside you restrained your wrists, pinning them above your head again. "Alright. Time to guess. Who am I?" The boy beside you asked in his creepy Ghostface voice, tilting his head at you as he tightened his grip. You innocently peered up at his mask, searching for some kind of hint in his demeanor.

"Chris, is that you?" You asked uncertaintly. "Wrong. Remember what happens when you guess wrong?" Matt cooed, running his gloved finger along the underside of your chin. Your eyes were glazing over, your lips fell open, and your cheeks were flushed.

Chris applied more pressure to the knife, running the blade along your lower stomach and drawing blood. You let out a satisfied whine as you felt the release of the knife cutting you. The warm, sticky red fluid glistened in the moonlight as it slowly dripped down your abdomen.

"So pretty," Matt whispered, brushing your messy hair out of your face and his eyes dancing between your desperate expression and the way the blood looked so beautiful on your skin. Moans began pouring from you again as Chris fucked you senseless up against the tree.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Harder," you begged, your eyes lazily rolling back into your head as your breasts bounced to the cadence of his thrusts. "Cock dumb little slut," Chris menacingly chuckled at your pathetic pleading, but he still gave you what you so enthusiastically craved, relishing in your desperation for him.

You loved feeling helpless and giving yourself over so willingly to both brothers as they used you for their own pleasure. Your whimpers became louder and fuller as you neared your tipping point again.

"Harder," you cried out again before your orgasm took over. Your gaze danced between both of their masks, and your pussy started rhythmically throbbing around Chris' cock as he delivered a few more monumental strokes. You felt a wonderful, relieved feeling in the pit of your stomach as you came unraveled under the control of both boys.

Your brows pinched together, your knees weakened, and your stare began to lose its focus until you couldn't concentrate on anything except for the pure pleasure and ecstasy coursing through you. You were pumped full of Chris' cum as his cock twitched inside of you, and as you came down from your intense adrenaline rush, you felt all your muscles relax.

Both men chuckled, removing their masks and revealing their identities to you. Sure enough, you had guessed wrong. Chris leaned in and chuckled into your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You may have guessed wrong, but we're going to spare you. You're worth way more to us alive than dead."

[simpson12]

OML IM LITERALLY DEAD THIS IS SO GOOD TF

romantic chocolates - cs55

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend take aphrodisiac chocolates at the same party OR you and carlos fuck after not seeing each other for months warnings: smut smut smut!!! spit kink, language, ex-boyfriend!!!, slight jealousy, p in v, unprotected! NOT PROOFREAD (prob typos and might not make sense), angst, hot hot hot word count: 2.8k author's note: hi hi! so sorry this is late and hope y'all still like this!!! I was gonna make it longer but my brain has been a little fried from all the writing I've been doing so sorry if you think this is trash. TRIED MY BEST xoxo

ln4 cl16 mv1 op81 cs55

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You swore you’d never see him again.

Not at this party, not in this city. Especially not after what he did. You hadn’t seen Carlos Sainz in nearly seven months. Not since he ended things in the most heartless way imaginable. A half-shrug and the words this isn’t working anymore.

No softness. No chance to ask why. Just a door shutting behind him as he left.

So seeing him now. Casual, jaw sharp, in a white shirt with the top two unbuttons done and a amber liquid in a short glass in his hand…is enough to make your stomach cave in.

You were doing fine. Laughing, sipping your drinks. Picking at chocolate from one of those ridiculous little tray’s one of the host’s friends handed you. 

“Supposed to be spiked,” She said. “Like, aphrodisiac spiked.”

And you laughed. Popped one in your mouth. Moved on.

Forgot about it. 

Until now.

He’s leaning against the bar, sleeves rolled up, in conversation with someone. 

Your heart lurches.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. You even checked. Avoided his circles and favorite places like the plague. Blocked his number, deleted his socials. Haven’t even said his name in months.

Not since he left you shaking in a hallway with mascara running down your face.

You’re careful not to look in his direction again.

Not toward the bar. Not to his tanned forearms. Not to the curve of his throat.

You don’t even know who he’s talking to…and you won’t give yourself the chance to find out either.

Instead, you disappear into another group of people. Let someone refill your drink. Let someone else laugh into your ear. 

And suddenly everything starts to feel a little too sharp. Your dress clinging to your skin in places it didn’t before. And the insides of your thigh’s feel damp.

Your stomach tenses and suddenly you can’t stop thinking about the fucking chocolate. The stupid little square. The way it melted so easily on your tongue. Tasted good too.

And your nipples are hard beneath your dress. Can feel the ache low in your belly. 

So you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Walk into a darkly lit hallway. It’s pretty quiet except for the hum of music behind the wall.

You turn the corner. Not watching where you’re going. Just trying to breathe. Cool off.

And then you collide with him.

Hard chest. Solid. Familiar scent. And that body. The body you used to know with your eyes shut.

You breathe in sharply. 

And your hands press into his chest before you can stop yourself. Trying to brace for a fall.

His hand shoots out quick, steadying you. Fingers hot against the strip of skin at your side. And you jolt.

He’s already looking at you.

Like he knew this would happen. Like he was waiting for it.

“Careful, cariño,” his voice is smooth. Low. Thick with something you don’t want to acknowledge. “Didn’t see you there.”

You step back quickly. Almost stumbling away from him.

“Jesus,” you snap. “What the fuck are you…”

“Walking,” he shrugs his shoulders. Cocking his head. “Relax.”

You straighten. Glare at him. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Didn’t know this was your party.” He grins.

“It’s not,” you cross your arms along your chest.

“Then I guess I’m allowed to be here,” His voice low. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You glare. But the heat building between your legs makes it hard to hold your ground. Your skin is fucking burning. Pulse pounding.

And he’s close. Too fucking close.

You hate him. You hate how he left. You hate the fucking smirk on his face. You hate that’s he’s the only person who’s ever made you come so hard that you couldn’t speak for minutes after.

And he’s looking at you with those dark eyes like he knows. Like he can see the flush in your cheeks. The tremble in your hands.

“You’re flushed,” He mutters.

You roll your eyes. “So? It’s warm in here.”

“Mmm.” His gaze flicks down, lingers at your stomach. “I’d believe that…y’know?…If I didn’t see you eat one of those chocolates earlier.”

Your stomach twists.

“What?”

You try to take a step back, but he follows. Lazily. Easily. Cutting off your exit without even lifting a hand.

“Tell me,” he mutters. “How long have you been feeling it?”

His voice is low. Slow. The kind of tone he used to use when his hand was already slipped in between your legs.

“Fuck off, Carlos.”

“You’re already fucking yourself in your head,” He says. Taunting.

You narrow your eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re flushed.”

His gaze drags over you. From your eyes, down to your mouth, pausing for a few moments, then down to your chest.

“Just look at you,” He says. “So fidgety. Breathing as if I’ve got my fingers shoved up in you already.”

You want to slap him. But you don’t. Every word lands directly between your fucking legs.

“You always got like this whenever I touched you. So fucking easy.” He laughs. “One hand on your throat and you’d fuckin’ melt for me, yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He tilts his head, eyes gleaming.

“You used to beg me to talk like this…remember?”

Your knees are weak.

“Used to get so fuckin’ dumb for me.” He whispers. “All I had to do was say a few things and you’d be soaking.”

Your stomach clenches and you breathe hard. Trying to swallow the whimper in your throat. But he see’s it. Of course he does.

“Still like that, huh?” He grins. “You’re squirming, baby.”

“Carlos…”

“No. Don’t say my name like that.” His voice is sharp. “Not unless you’re gonna say it while you’re moaning and begging again.”

You take a step back. But he follows. Again. Cruelly. Like he’s savoring the way you’re falling apart. Slowly.

“Used to talk to you like this while I fucked you from behind, yeah?” His lips hover by your ear. “One hand in your hair. One on your hip. And I’d say the filthiest shit…just to feel your pussy clench around my cock.”

Your fingers curl into the wall behind you.

“I’d tell you how tight you were. How fuckin’ wet. How you were made for me.”

You clench your jaw. Body fuckin’ buzzing.

He brushes a hand near your jaw. Hovering. Not touching.

“Bet if I put two fingers in you, you’d come instantly.”

Your thighs are pressed so tightly together it hurts. But you don’t move. 

“I hate you.”

“No.” He grunts. “You hate that no one else can get you off the way I can.”

You flinch.

“Want me to remind you how good you were?” His voice is dark. “How you used to ride my fingers like a good fucking slut while I spat in your mouth?”

Your legs nearly give out.

“Still got that pretty moan?” He breathes.

“Fuck you.” You shove him back. Hard.

He doesn’t expect it, and stumbles back. Catches himself quick.

And you adjust your dress. Lift your chin.

“You haven’t changed.” You say, voice full of disgust.

You push past him. Don’t even look over your shoulder as you say, “I’ll go find someone else. Someone who isn’t a fucking coward.”

And that’s when you hear the scrape of his shoe against the floor.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You feel it before you turn. Him storming up to you. Something unhinged in his presence.

You turn your head. And his face? 

Grin gone. He looks furious.

“Y’think I’m gonna let you walk out there and let someone else fuck you?” He grunts. “Let some idiot put his hands on you?”

You blink. “I’m not yours.”

“The fuck you’re not.”

And he’s in front of you again. Shoulders tense. Chest heaving.

“Y’think I didn’t see it? The way your thighs were rubbing together like you couldn’t stand a single second without my cock shoved up there?”

He steps closer. “You can pretend all you want. But you walk out there, and I swear to fuckin’ God…”

He stops. Fists clenched.

“You want someone else? Go ahead.” His voice is sharp. “Let them try to fuck you the way I did.”

You swallow.

“Let them try to make you come with nothing but their hand around your throat and two fingers buried in that needy cunt.”

And you see it.

The edge in his eyes. The small flush in his cheeks. Chest rising. Vein in his neck.

You narrow your eyes.

“You took one too.”

And he laughs. Shaky.

“Yeah.” His voice low. “Didn’t think much of it, til I saw you…and now I can’t fucking breathe.”

His hands are clenched.

“Been hard for an hour,” He groans. “Every time I close my eyes I picture you on your knees.”

He laughs again. Bitter. 

“I’m gonna say this once,” His voice cracks. Feral. “No one else gets to touch you.”

You glare. “You don’t get to say that. You left..”

“I know,” He cuts you off. Snapping. “I know I did. And I fucking hate myself for it.”

His forehead drops to yours. Body trembling.

“But I swear…I swear if anyone else touches you tonight…if anyone gets to learn how fucking wet you are..”

He groans. Like he’s in pain.

“I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

And his hips roll toward you once. And it sends a zap of heat straight to your core.

His cock is fucking hard. Straining. Throbbing.

“Fuck,” He mutters. “Y’feel that? Feel what you do to me?”

Your hands find his chest, but not to pull him away. Just to feel him. His heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” His voice is wrecked. “Haven’t. Even when I tried to fuck someone else…I’d have to close my eyes and picture it was your cunt squeezing me.”

You whimper. Lips trembling.

“Yeah,” He groans. “That sound. Fuck..that’s the one.”

You don’t even have time to process it before he’s pulling you down the hall. Shoulders tense. And you stumble to keep up. Until he shoulders a door open and yanks you in after him.

A bathroom.

He kicks open the first stall. Slams it shut behind you both. 

Locks it.

And then his hands are on you.

And his mouth crashes into yours. Hot. Hungry. Teeth scraping your bottom lip like he wants to bite it. You gasp into him, and he groans like the sound alone might make him come.

“You still hate me?” He mutters against your mouth, dragging your dress up. Bunching the fabric.

“I do,” you whisper. “I fucking do.”

“So why the fuck are you this wet for me?” He cups you through the thin fabric of your panties. “Hm? Why’s your pussy begging for me if you hate me so much?”

You whimper. Grind against his hand. And all hell breaks loose.

“Fuck this.” He yanks your panties to the side.

Fingers slip through your folds and he outright groans. Loud. Like you’re ruining him.

“You need me this bad, baby?”

You nod. Desperate. Delirious.

“Say it.”

You hesitate.

He presses two fingers against your clit. Rubbing slow circles. Mean. 

“Carlos…”

“Say you need me.”

You’re breathless. “I need you.”

And that’s all it takes.

He’s undoing his pants, dragging them low enough to free his cock. Thick. Flushed. Leaking. Perfect. 

“I’m not gonna last,” he admits. Voice wrecked. “You feel too good. Look too pretty. M’gonna fuckin’ lose it.”

He grabs your thigh, hooks it over his hip.

And pushes in. All the way.

You cry out. Nails digging into his back as your pussy clenches down on him. 

He chokes on a gasp, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“Fuck, fuck…fuck…still so fuckin tight.” 

He doesn’t move. Breathing hard against your skin.

“No one else gets this. No one.” His voice is harsh. “Y’understand me? Say it.”

He starts moving. “Say it while I fuck you.”

And he slams back in. Hard.

“Yours,” you cry out. “I’m yours.”

And that’s all he needs.

Then he’s fucking you hard. Relentless. The stall doors shaking with each thrust. 

“Dirty fuckin’ whore.” He pants. “This pussy missed me, hm?”

His hands slip between your bodies, rubbing your clit.

“C’mon make it quick.” He mutters. “Cunt is choking my cock. Know you’re there.”

And you do. 

Your entire body snaps, clenching as you cry out his name. He grunts.

Groans, loud as he spills inside of you.

“Fuck, baby…” His neck is flushed. “Take it all.”

He’s still inside you. Still hard. When he presses a kiss to your throat.

“I need more.”

You nod without thinking. And you’re barely breathing before he slides out of you. Pulls up his pants. 

Grabs your wrist. 

Pulls you out of the stall. His come leaking down your thighs.

“Where are we going?”

He doesn’t answer, just drags you down the hallway. His grip on you is strong. 

He finds the first empty door. Shoves it open. Slams it shut.

And the second you turn to face him, he’s on you.

Hands in your hair. Mouth on yours. Kissing you like it hurts. Dress ripped off in one swipe. Pants unbuttoned and shoved down. Shirt stripped off.

He walks you backwards until your knees hit something.

A mattress.

And then he shoves you down. Climbs over you. Dragging you to the edge of the bed like he owns you.

“Never should’ve let you go.” 

And he slams back into you.

You both moan.

“Still so perfect.” 

His hips move. Slow. Filthy.

He drops his head to your chest. Hips slamming into you harder. Losing control. 

“I’ve thought about this every fucking night.” He breathes. “My cock inside you. You coming all over me. Every single fucking night.”

You arch into him. And he snaps.

Slams into you. Again and again.

“You blocked me,” He grunts. Pushing in deeper. “Everywhere.”

He’s holding your wrists down on the bed, hips grinding into you.

“I fuckin’ tried, y’know that?” His voice is harsh. “Open.”

You do.

And he spits right onto your tongue. You moan. Shaky. Breathless.

“Swallow it.”

And you do. Instantly.

“I called. Texted. Showed up. And you just disappeared on me.”

His voice rough. Cracking. Eyes locked on you.

“Blocked me on every fucking thing,” he fucks you harder. “And now?”

He leans in closer. “Now you’re letting me back in with this pussy before you even let me apologize…before I even explain myself.”

You whimper. And he laughs. Mean.

“So fuckin’ easy.”

He splits you wide open, cock driving into you.

“Dios mío,” He breathe against your skin, voice cracking. “This fuckin’ body…” His hands slide against your skin. Possessive. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me.” He grunts. Voice hoarse. “And I ruined it. I know that I did.”

His hand slips down to rub your clit. Eyes never leaving yours.

“Mi puta,” He whispers into your ear. “Mía.”

“Come again,” he whispers. “One more time. Wanna feel you fuckin’ squeeze me and tell me you still want me.”

And when you do….

He follows.

“Fuck…fuck, I fucking love you.”

You’re not sure how long you stay like this.

Chest pressed against you. Legs tangled. Cock still buried in you.

Twitching like he doesn’t want to let you go.

And then he’s moving again. Slow. Deep. Mean. Hand tangled in your hair, holding your head against the mattress as you arch.

And then he spits into your mouth again.

“Swallow it, mi amor. Like a good girl.”

You do.

“Buena chica,” He grunts. “Always were. Always knew how to take it.”

And then he’s pushing your thighs up to your chest, slamming into you harder.

And you scream. 

“You still hate me?” He asks. Voice ruined.

You look at him. Eyes glassy. Breathless.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

And his hips slow. But he still hits you deep.

“No mientas,” He exhales. “Don’t lie.”

Your nails dig into his back. “I hate how much I missed this. Missed you.”

And he groans.

“Say you’re mine.”

“Soy tuya.” You breathe.

And then his mouth is on yours. Claiming.

And his hand circles your clit.

“Hazlo,” He hisses against your lips. “Come for me. Again. Vamos, mi amor.”

And you do. Gasping his name.

And he falls apart with you. Spilling inside you again.

And this time he collapses onto you. Slipping out.

His come leaking onto the sheets below you.

“I was scared,” He breathes. “Didn’t deserve you. Still don’t.”

You blink. Dazed.

“Didn’t even let me say sorry.”

You exhale. “You didn’t fucking try.”

He goes still. 

His eyes search yours. “What do I do now?”

You don’t answer. 

Just brush your fingers against the back of his neck. And you feel the way he shudders.

Just holding each other.

taglist: @jaspimirandera @amoothoperator @iloveallmyboys @fer23022003 @dyleclerc @annaswrites00 @pjmluvb @howling-wolf97 @marrykisskilled @frenchtwistedd @tabisswag @ayap4paya @astrlape @ptrickbateman @lilith-123321 @nyymarjr @its-avalon-08 @fastandcurious16 @mimisweetz @wandabillywrites @samanthaw16 @msimpala--67 @theonottsbxtch @prudyhoo @cendrineee @whistlef0rthechoir @idontknow0704 @forumlabee @gnarlynorris @alireads27 @alliwantisadonut @marslovesran4eva @asentraa @dustie-faerie @o6hellnah @hannahmotors10 @kori20 @zicosbitch @floraf1ln @fallingforfalll2 @killjoynotes @remussbitch @babyangelc @sadwillowtree11

[simpson12]

OMG THIS IS SO FUNNY IM DYINGGG

Drop the towel 🐰ྀི C. Sturniolo

"she's gonna be the fucking death of me-"

⟢ no warnings really, this is mainly fluff and involves a prank.

"What the fuck?"

Chris looks up from his phone, smiling as he sees his girlfriend. However, the smile drops as quickly as it forms, seeing her in nothing but a towel. His eyes dart towards Matt's desk, the monitors reflecting what's happening.

They were currently on live, streaming on Twitch, with too many people to count watching.

"What the fuck are you doing?" His words came out harsh, but he didn't care. She knew they were streaming; he didn't care if she was on camera. What he did care about was thousands of people seeing her so exposed. She opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off, his voice laced with protective irritation.

"Get the fuck out, what the hell are you thinking coming in here dressed in nothing but a towel?"

"I just had a question! Stop yelling at me!" She does her best not to laugh at his obvious frustration. She knew he was pissed, and she knew why, but it was all entertaing to her.

"I'm yelling because what the fuck are you doin' kid?" He stands up, grabbing her arm and trying to push her out of view of the camera, but she stays planted.

"I just have a question!" She repeats, making sure to give him the doe eyes he always falls for. He glares down at her, a grunt of frustration leaving his throat.

"What the fuck is it?"

"What do you think of this?"

It all happens in slow motion.

Matt's eyes widen as Bun lets go of the towel, his hands fumbling as he tries to turn the camera off. Nick screams in shock, covering his mouth in a split second before reaching out as if he could stop it in time.

Chris tackles her onto the bed, his body landing on top of Bun's in an attempt to cover.

"Turn off the fucking stream Matt!"

"Oh my god, oh my god!"

"Why won't it turn off?!"

Bunny cackles loudly at their obvious distress, the fact that they didn't notice, and immediately jumped into a frenzy, truly bringing her tears of joy.

Chris snapped his head downward, giving her the dirtiest and annoyed look he could muster. "What the fuck are you laughing at?! Do you think this shit is funny?! About a thousand people just saw your dumbass flash us, and probably clipped it! What the hell is wr-" He cuts himself off, seeing the familiar pattern of his favorite pajama set adorning her body.

His brain short-circuits for a second, trying to understand what just happened.

He slowly rolls off of her, lying flat on Matt's bed and running his hands over his face in exhaustion.

"Jesus fucking christ Bun..."

She sits up and giggles softly, nothing but pure joy on her face at the series of events that just took place. Matt holds his head in his hands, completely in shock and anxious. Nick throws his head back in relief, slapping a hand over his heart.

Bunny stands up, simply waving goodbye to the stream and prancing out of the room as if she didn't just give the three brothers heart attacks.

They sit in a still silence, completely and utterly shocked by her prank.

"She's gonna be the fucking death of me-" Chris pushes himself off of the bed, already making his way out of the room.

"Bun! Get your ass in the room!"

[simpson12]

AHHHH

— 𝜗ৎ lunch . . . m.s

in which . . . matt loves tasting you

warnings . . . smut, unprotected sex, oral, (fem!recieving) pet names, dirty talk, making out, boob play, fingering, multiple orgasms, matt the munch, face sitting, kissing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #2

matt approaches you with a predatory grace, his eyes locked on yours, dark and intense. "been waitin’ all day to taste you sweetheart," he whispers, his voice a sultry promise that makes your heart skip a beat. he leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

your fingers find their way to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it impatiently. he doesn't resist, pulling it off in a swift movement, revealing the hard planes of his chest. you trace the contours of his muscles with a trembling hand, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. his breath hitches at your touch, a primal growl escaping his lips.

matt captures your lips again, this time with a fierce intensity that sets your senses ablaze. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch with a possessive hunger. you moan into the kiss, your body responding to his every move with an eager desire.

he breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. each touch sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core. his hands roam over your body, kneading and squeezing your breasts, making you arch into his touch.

his mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud until it stands stiff with arousal. you can't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him. he shifts his attention to the other breast, his free hand sliding down your body to rest between your thighs.

"so wet," he groans, his fingers rubbing against your drenched folds. "i need to taste you." the need in his voice mirrors the ache building within you. with a swift movement, he strips you of your panties, exposing you to his ravenous gaze. his eyes darken as he drinks in the sight of your glistening cunt. "beautiful," he murmurs before descending upon you like a man starved.

his tongue flicks over your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you can't hold back the moans that spill from your lips, each one a symphony of desire. his fingers slide into your heat, curling and stroking your inner walls. the sensations are overwhelming, the combination of his mouth and fingers working in tandem has you teetering on the edge.

"cum f’me," he commands, his voice a muffled husky whisper against your core. and just like that, your climax hits you with the force of a tidal wave, dragging a loud cry from your throat as you clench around his fingers. he laps up every drop of your pleasure, prolonging your orgasm until you're a quivering mess beneath him.

as you come down from your high, he rises above you, his lips glistening with your essence. "now it's my turn," he growls, unfastening his jeans and freeing his throbbing member. you watch with rapt attention as he strokes himself, pre-cum glistening at the tip.

he positions himself at your entrance, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. "you gonna take my cock pretty girl?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. you nod eagerly, desperate to be filled by him. with a firm thrust, he enters you, stretching you deliciously.

you gasp at the sensation, feeling him hit every spot inside you. he begins to move, each thrust a perfect blend of power and finesse. his hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. the dual stimulation sends you spiraling into another climax, clenching around him as you cry out his name.

the tightness of your walls triggers his own release. he spills inside you with a loud groan, his body jerking as he empties himself. he collapses on top of you, both of you panting and spent, covered in a sheen of sweat.

he pulls out slowly, causing a new wave of aftershocks to ripple through you. without a word, he reaches out and gently cups your face in his hands. his touch is warm, reassuring, and it sends a cascade of emotions swirling within you. his thumb strokes your cheekbone, a soft, tender caress that makes your heart flutter.

he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. you can smell the faint scent of his cologne, a mix of wood and spice that you find intoxicating. his lips brush against yours, a feather-light touch that leaves you yearning for more. the first real kiss comes as a shock, a jolt of electricity that runs straight to your core. his lips are soft, yet firm, moving against yours with a rhythm that's both familiar and new. it's a kiss that speaks of longing as his tongue dances against yours

as the kiss deepens, his hands slide down to your shoulders, pulling you closer. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the firmness of his chest against yours. his tongue seeks entrance, and you grant it willingly. his hands roam your back, tracing the curve of your spine, before settling on your hips. he pulls you against him, and you can't help but moan at the feeling.

“we are done yet, sweetheart.” matt says, rolling over to lay down as you began to sit up, still in euphoria from the orgasms you had. "come on, baby. sit on my face." his voice is dripping with desire, and it sends a surge of excitement through your body.

you move to straddle his head. as you lower yourself down onto his face, you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. his mouth is so warm and wet, his tongue immediately starting to work its magic. he's licking and sucking at your most sensitive area, and it's driving you wild. you start to grind against his face, feeling the pleasure building inside you. you can't believe how good this all feels, the way his tongue is moving, the way his nose is brushing against you. it's all so much, so overwhelming…yet so good.

"fuck," you moan, your hands finding purchase in the sheets as you move against him. his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he devours you. you can feel the orgasm building, getting closer and closer. then, suddenly, you're cumming. hard. the pleasure crashes over you like a wave, sending sparks of electricity through your body. you're moaning and writhing against him, completely lost in the sensation.

as the pleasure starts to subside, you move off of his face, collapsing onto the bed beside him. he turns to look at you, a satisfied smirk on his face. "that was hot," he says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. his chin is dripping with your cum. you smile up at him, feeling completely spent but also extremely satisfied. you smile snuggling up against him. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as the two of you slowly drifted off together.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: i put all my pussy power into this hope you like it

[simpson12]

OH MY LAWDDDD HE'S SO FINE I'M LITERALLY NEXT IN LINE

I’m BOUNCING on it omfg

[simpson12]

OMG THIS IS ADORABLE

— 𝜗ৎ birds of a feather . . . m.s

in which . . . you and your boyfriend matt share a cute and heartwarming moment together

warnings . . . just fluff & kissing!

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #4

it starts with his fingers poking at your side under the blanket. you’re laying on top of matt, your cheek resting against his chest, eyes fluttering shut every few seconds while the hum of the tv plays something neither of you are really watching. everything feels still and sleepy and perfect… until his fingers move again. you jolt a little, lifting your head to squint up at him. “did you just—?”

“me?” he says, wide-eyed, fake innocent. “i didn’t do anything.” you narrow your eyes, suspicion all over your face. “matthew.” he smiles way too big to be innocent. “what? you’re imagining things.” you try to settle back down, but the second your head hits his chest again, poke. this time both sides. “okay, that’s it!” you sit up suddenly, tossing the blanket off and climbing onto him, straddling his hips with a grin. “you wanna play?”

“whoa, whoa,” he laughs, hands coming up like he’s surrendering. “i didn’t do anything! you’re the one starting stuff!”

“liar,” you say, and launch your attack. your fingers find his sides and he loses it, he’s squirming and giggling, trying to grab your wrists but you’re too fast, too focused, too proud of yourself. his laugh is all breathy and loud and you swear it makes your chest ache in the best way. “okay—okay! i give up!” he’s laughing so hard he can barely breathe. “you win!”

“say i’m the best,” you demand, grinning like a menace. “you’re the best,” he chokes out, still laughing. “you’re the actual best, i swear.” you slow down and stop, letting your hands rest gently against his chest as you sit there, smiling down at him. he’s flushed and glowing and beautiful in a way that makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode.

“you’re so dramatic,” you say, giggling. he reaches up, hands landing on your waist, holding you there like he never wants you to move. “only for you.”you roll your eyes, even though you’re blushing hard now, and he notices. of course he does.“aww,” he coos, pulling you down until your nose bumps his. “you’re blushing.”

“shut up,” you whisper, trying to hide your face, but he cups your cheek and holds you there. “nah,” he says softly. “you’re cute.” he kisses you then, slow and warm, with that same gentleness he always has when it comes to you. like he’s memorizing your mouth, like kissing you is his favorite thing in the world. you sigh into it, hands sliding up into his hair, and he melts underneath you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. you pull back after a while, just enough to catch your breath, and he keeps his forehead pressed to yours. “i could do this forever,” he murmurs.

“good,” you whisper. “’cause i’m not going anywhere.” he hums, thumb brushing your jaw, and you feel so full of love you don’t know what to do with it. you tuck your head into the crook of his neck and he wraps his arms all the way around you, blanket pulled back up over your shoulders.

you lay like that for a while, your bodies tangled up, hearts beating slow and steady in sync. he keeps mumbling little things into your hair. “you’re my favorite,” and “you’re so beautiful,” and “i love you, like, so much it’s actually insane”—and every single word melts into you like honey. he starts tracing circles on your back again, soft and absentminded, and you let your eyes close because it’s warm and quiet and you feel so safe, like nothing in the world could ever touch you here.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: i hate writing fluff but anyway I NEED TO SLEEP it’s 5 am for me and i’ve been up all night 😭😭 so i just decided to post this now lol

[simpson12]

AHHHH OMG LOVEE WTFF

𝜗᭪ HE CAN’T KEEP HIS WILD EYES ON THE ROAD ─── m.s

⤷ in which . . . you tease matt while he’s driving, he can’t take it anymore and he pulls over.

⤷ warnings . . . smut, unprotected sex, backshots, blowjob, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, sexual acts in a moving car, (don’t do this) use of pet names, multiple orgasms.

⤷ written by @delilahsturniolo, do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

you found yourself driving home from a party with your boyfriend matt, the night still in its early stages as the moon glowed softly in the sky. you decided to wear your skimpiest outfit, consisting of a scandalously short skirt and a barely-there top that left little to the imagination. the fabric of your skirt clung to your thighs like a second skin, and the wind occasionally threatened to expose more than intended.

your skin was cool and smooth, and your breasts swayed tantalizingly beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, nipples already perked up and straining against the flimsy barrier. you made a point to take the passenger seat, a wicked grin on your lips as you purposefully adjusted your skirt to flash some extra leg to matt.

as you settled into the car, the warmth of the interior mingled with the crisp night air, creating a delicious contrast on your exposed skin. the moonlight streaming through the windows cast an ethereal glow over your body, accentuating every curve and contour in a way that made it nearly impossible for matt to keep his eyes on the road.

"god, you're looking good tonight," matt muttered under his breath as he started the engine. the rumble of the car vibrated beneath you, stirring a tingle of excitement in your belly. "thanks," you replied coyly, letting your voice drip with innuendo. "i was hoping you might appreciate my efforts." matt's gaze flickered to you briefly before he forced his attention back to the road. "appreciate? i can't keep my eyes off you," he admitted, his voice a little rougher than usual.

that was all the encouragement you needed. you reached over and lightly traced your fingers along matt's thigh, feeling the tense muscle beneath his jeans. "mmm, that's exactly what i wanted to hear." as you continued to drive, the tension in the car grew thicker. every now and then, you would slide a hand across matt's very visible erection, teasingly gauging his arousal. his erection pressed against the denim of his jeans, unmistakable and increasingly insistent. each time you touched him, a visible twitch would ripple through his body, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. “fuck—stop baby..” he whined.

at last, you decided to up the ante. you reached down and deliberately pulled your top down, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. your nipples hardened further, standing erect and begging for attention. "keep your eyes on the road," you teased, your voice laced with challenge as you let your top stay down, breasts swaying rhythmically with the motion of the car.

matt's restraint snapped like a brittle twig. he slammed on the brakes, and before you could protest, he'd pulled over to the side of the road. in a heartbeat, he'd thrown the car into park and was out of his seat, storming around to your side of the vehicle. "get in the backseat," he growled, his voice a low rumble of desire as he yanked open your door.

you could have obeyed him, but where was the fun in that? instead, you raised an eyebrow and smirked. "make me," you taunted, the dare hanging in the air between you. matt didn't need to be told twice. he grabbed your wrist and pulled you roughly out of the car, his other hand wrapping firmly around your waist to steady you. you stumbled slightly as your legs were unaccustomed to the sudden change of altitude, but he held you securely against his body.

without another word, he pushed you toward the backseat. your heart hammered in your chest as you felt a jolt of excitement mixed with a touch of fear at his sudden ferocity. you climbed into the backseat, your skirt riding up even higher on your thighs as you settled onto the worn leather.

matt followed swiftly behind, his hands grasping at your hips as he spun you onto your hands and knees. you gasped as you felt the cool air hit your exposed backside, but before you could process the sensation, matt had aligned himself behind you.

"you asked for it," he hissed, his breath hot against your ear as he grasped your hips in a vice-like grip. then, without warning or mercy, he drove into you. you cried out at the intrusion, your body stretching to accommodate him as he filled you completely. every thrust sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, your walls clenching around him as he set a punishing pace.

your moans filled the confined space of the car, echoing off the windows as matt continued to fuck you roughly from behind. you could see their reflection in the glass, his grip on your hips, your breasts swaying with each of his thrusts, and his face twisted in a combination of pleasure and desperation. "you like that?" he grunted, his voice rough with lust as he reached around to grasp one of your swaying breasts. "you like being fucked like a dirty little slut?"

"yes," you gasped, the combination of his hand on your breast and his relentless thrusts pushing you closer to the edge. "gosh, yes." finally, after what felt like an eternity, matt pulled out of you. but instead of giving you a moment to catch your breath, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head up.

"come closer," he commanded. "suck my dick." matt turned you around to face him, positioning you. you obediently took his throbbing cock into your mouth without hesitation. the taste of him filled your senses. salty and primal, as you worked him with your lips and tongue. his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you up and down his length as he fucked your mouth with a ruthless abandon.

the world narrowed down to this moment, the feeling of his cock in your mouth, his hands in your hair, and the taste of him coating your tongue. you sucked and licked, determined to drive him over the edge as he had done for you.

matt's breathing grew ragged, his breathing becoming erratic as he approached his climax. with a final groan, he spilled into your mouth, his seed flooding your senses as you swallowed every drop. “this is what happens when you can’t keep your eyes on the road.” you smirked beneath matt, he only playfully rolled his eye. “pfft—don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” matt teased, flipping your skirt back down as he started to dress himself again. he really couldn’t keep his wild eyes on the road, not when it comes to you.

© delilahsturniolo

[simpson12]

OMG I NEED THEMMM

One in the front the other in the back

[simpson12]

OMG IM GIGGLING 😝

I Miss You ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ C. Sturniolo

“I thought maybe it was easier to step away than to stay and end up resenting you.”

⟢mainly angst, but fluff too.

inspired by one of chris's main hoes @luverboychris.

divider @bernardsbendystraws

You and Chris had been broken up for a year now. It ended mutually—no drama, no harsh words. For a while, you kept in touch, both of you trying to stay cool, calm, and collected. But eventually, like everything else between you, the communication faded.

You drifted apart—quietly, inevitably.

That’s why it was so surprising when your phone started ringing and his name lit up the screen. Chris. You hadn’t heard from him in months. And now he was FaceTiming you?

You hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"

His face appeared on the screen, and your heart gave a traitorous little jump. He looked good. Better than you remembered. A bit of scruff on his jaw, a backwards cap, a black T-shirt, and a chain that caught the light just enough to make your breath hitch.

"Hey, pr—… you busy?" Chris asked, his voice a little hesitant, the almost-slip of your old nickname hanging awkwardly between you.

You caught it. Of course you did.

It sat in your chest, heavy and warm and a little painful.

"Not really," you said softly. "Just on the couch, watching TV. You look like you’re... in a store?"

He nodded, adjusting the camera slightly. "Yeah. I, uh... I need help with something. Skincare."

That made you pause. You tilted your head, half-smirking. "Skincare? You used to groan if I even mentioned a face mask."

The words came out more wistful than teasing, laced with memory. You didn’t mean to reach back like that, but it was already out there, hanging in the air with everything else you never said after the breakup.

Chris let out a breath, not quite a laugh. "Yeah, well... things change."

Your eyes met on the screen. And for a second, it was like time folded in on itself. You were back in your old apartment, him stretched out on the couch, you sitting cross-legged on the floor with a clay mask in one hand and a smile on your face he pretended not to love.

But that was then.

Now, there was distance. Months of silence. And a call you didn’t see coming.

"You gonna help me or what?" he asked, quieter this time, but still with that edge of familiarity—like he already knew your answer.

You spent the next thirty minutes walking Chris through a full skincare routine—asking questions about his skin, explaining the difference between hydrating and exfoliating, recommending a few of your favorite products. Some of them were ones you used yourself, and you hesitated for a moment before saying so. He didn’t react much, but you knew he noticed.

In the background, you heard a voice:

“Do you have a phone number?”

You squinted at the screen, trying to figure out where he was.

“Nah,” Chris replied to the cashier, then added, “But I know someone who does. She’ll be happy to get the points.”

You blinked. “Wait… are you at Ulta?”

He turned the camera toward the store’s bright lighting and pastel shelves. “Yup. I remembered you always got your stuff here.”

That made you pause. Not because it was surprising—Chris had always noticed more than he let on—but because you didn’t expect him to remember that kind of thing. Let alone use it.

Soon after, he was back in his car, bags in the passenger seat, sunlight casting stripes across his dashboard.

“Well,” you said, the call starting to dip toward an ending, “looks like my job is done. I’ll let you—"

“Nah,” he cut in quickly. “Stay on the phone. I don’t know how to use this shit. I still need your help.”

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Alright.”

The drive back was easy, surprisingly so. You talked about nothing in particular—bad traffic, overpriced serums, a song you both used to play in the car. It felt familiar, but not the same. There was space between you now. And you could feel both of you stepping carefully around it.

Eventually, he got home. The screen jostled as he carried the phone inside, then steadied again when he reached the bathroom. He propped it up against a bottle of cologne, the angle a little off, the lighting a little too bright.

Then he pulled off his shirt.

Your gaze dropped instantly, not fast enough to miss the way his shoulders looked or how the light caught the chain around his neck.

Chris smirked. “Still shy?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you’d be over that by now.”

You shot him a look. “Just... trying to be respectful. We’re not—”

You didn’t finish the sentence.

You didn’t have to.

He looked at you for a second longer than necessary, like he was remembering something. Then turned back to the mirror.

“Alright,” he said, voice a little quieter. “What the hell do I do first?”

You spent half an hour walking Chris through the skincare routine, explaining each step while he clumsily followed along. When he finally smeared on the face mask, he glanced at you with an uncertain, almost shy look.

“So then Sam was like—‘Chris, who the hell are you talking to—oh my god, is that’”

Suddenly, the phone jolted as Nick’s face popped into view, grabbing the phone before you could react.

“I’ve missed you so much! Oh my god!”

You blinked, caught off guard, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the interruption.

“Why are you two on the phone? Are you getting back together? Please say yes! I’m so tired of Chris saying he misses you and—”

“Nick! Get the hell out!” Chris snapped, his voice sharper than before. He wrestled the phone away and pushed Nick out, locking the bathroom door behind him.

The screen went quiet.

Chris leaned against the sink, the mask drying on his face. After a moment, he peeled it off slowly, jaw tight, avoiding your eyes.

Then, in a low voice, he asked, “So… what’s next?”

You hesitated, the silence stretching between you—awkward, charged, and full of unspoken things.

You decide not to bring up what Nick said. You’re afraid if you do, Chris might hang up, and you’d both slip back into strangers.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed him until now.

You help him finish the routine, watching as he studies his reflection in the mirror.

“Damn,” he says quietly. “You were right. This skincare… it actually makes me look… clean.”

You chuckle softly, shifting on the couch. “I told you so. But you didn’t want to listen.”

He laughs, but there’s a pause, a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. He looks down, scratching the scruff on his chin.

“Yeah… you were right about a lot of things. And I didn’t listen. Maybe I wasn’t ready to.”

His gaze meets yours, quieter now, carrying the weight of things left unsaid.

A quiet silence falls between you, heavy with memories neither of you wants to voice aloud. Both of you linger in that fragile space, thinking about what once was.

“Nick was right, you know… I miss you. A lot,” Chris’s voice breaks slightly. “I was stupid to let you go. I know it was mutual, but I should’ve fought for you instead of just walking away.”

“Chr—no, just, please—let me finish,” he interrupts himself, voice uneven.

You nod softly, even though he can’t see you, giving him the space to open up.

“I didn’t need this stupid skincare,” he admits quietly, “but I needed a reason to call you. To hear your voice. I just… I miss you. And damn, I wish you were here.”

He stays silent, not meeting the phone, the weight of what he’s said hanging between you.

You take a deep breath, your voice catching slightly as you try to get the words out.

“When we broke up, we both said the feelings had faded... but that wasn’t true. My feelings didn’t go away. I just felt... I don’t know, kind of neglected. Not because you didn’t care—your career was taking off, and it should have. It’s just… I guess somewhere along the way, I felt like I was becoming an afterthought.”

You pause, swallowing hard.

“I thought maybe it was easier to step away than to stay and end up resenting you.”

“Fuck… I’m sorry,” Chris admits, his voice rough, throat tightening as he finally says what’s been unsaid for so long. “You’re not wrong about… you becoming an afterthought.”

He swallows hard. “I didn’t mean to neglect you. I swear on my life, it wasn’t on purpose. There was so much going on… and that’s not an excuse, but it just got hard to juggle everything."

“I saw how much it was hurting you,” Chris says quietly, his voice thick with regret. “How you’d put on that brave face every time I flaked on a date… again and again. And eventually, you just stopped asking. You shouldn’t have to ask your boyfriend to go on dates.”

He exhales slowly, the weight of his words hanging between you.

“So when you came over that day and said we needed to talk… I didn’t fight it. Didn’t even try to make it harder, because it wouldn’t have been fair to you,” Chris says, voice thick with regret. “You put up with so much from me—more than you should’ve—and honestly, princess, letting you go? That hurt like hell. I just wish I’d done things differently.”

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, something shifted between you. There was an odd relief in finally laying everything out—the regrets, the hurts, the unsaid words.

It wasn’t neat or perfect. It was raw and messy, like picking at a scab that still stung. But somehow, hearing each other’s voices, sharing this moment, gave you both a small, fragile sense of closure.

You felt the tightness in your chest ease just a little. The knot of silence that had settled between you for months loosened, and in its place was something quieter—something like understanding.

For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like you were just drifting apart. It felt like you were finally… connecting.

After a long silence, both of you break at the same time.

“I miss you.”

You laugh softly, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you hear him do the same. For a moment, the weight of everything between you feels a little lighter.

Your eyes flick to the corner of your phone — 8:10 p.m.

With a hesitant breath, you finally say, “Did… did you want to come over? I can throw a pizza in the oven or something.”

Your heart races, tight in your chest, as you wait for his answer.

There’s a pause, then a small, almost shy nod.

“Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.”

The call ends, and both of you sit quietly for a moment, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

There’s a flutter of nervousness in your chest—anxiety about what’s next—but beneath it all, there’s something else.

A spark of joy.

Excitement.

For the first time in a long time, the possibility of something new — or maybe something old, reborn — feels real.

And that feeling alone is enough to keep your heart beating a little faster.

[simpson12]

I LOVE HIM ISTG

Grayson in tbh telling girls three years younger than him he was too old and then proceeding to be obsessed Lyra (three years younger) the whole game.