incendiobrock

[incendiobrock]

would anybody be interested in me starting an au series for this story????

you get me so {chris sturniolo}

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

pairing(s): stoner!bff!chris x innocent!bff!reader

warning(s): smoking weed, language, sloppy make out

summary: when you need a break from your college work and request to smoke, chris is happy to help you out.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

textbooks were scattered across the floor, packets of papers and an open laptop not far behind. a wooden pencil fidgeted between your fingers, drumming lightly on one of the books as your eyes skimmed the pages. the room was dimly lit, the only light emitting from some string lights and a small desk lamp. a vinyl spun softly in the background, filling the room with deftones, and that familiar scent that lingered in the air.

dior sauvage, incense sticks, and a slight hint of weed was the best way to describe it. it was a scent you had grown to love, a scent that reminded you of him. a soft groan escaped your lips, your head pounding from the hours spent studying and taking countless (useless) notes. the carpeted floor was no longer offering any comfort as you struggled to lay in a better position.

“why don’t you take a break?” his voice filled the air, breaking the comfortable silence that had last between the two of you for the past hour or so. you looked over your shoulder to see him sitting against his headboard, looking down at you as you laid on the ground at the foot of his bed. with a sigh you shut your laptop, “i can’t… i still have to catch up on my lecture and start my thesis for-“

“-ah, ah, ah.” he tsked, cutting off your sentence. “you told me one more hour like.. two hours ago.” he looked at you pointedly, eyebrows slightly raised as he mentioned the promise you’d made to him to at least take a break. glancing down at your watch, you realized how much time had passed, feeling even more doomed for the amount of work you still had left. quickly, you stacked up all your textbooks, moving the pile out of the middle of the floor before you stood up to stretch.

“okay. i’ll take a break but i can only wait about thirty minutes before i need to get back to my work.” you agreed, crawling to sit at the end of the bed, facing him. he shifted slightly before patting the space besides him, “c’ mere.” his voice muttered softly. as soon as you fell into place beside him, his arm wrapped over your shoulders, tucking you into his side. “you work too hard, y’ know?” he whispered. leaning into his side you shrugged your shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as your head continued to pound.

his fingers idly traced the skin of your arm, looking down at you, carefully taking in your expression. “just relax ma.. i gotchu, you know that.” his words tickled the top of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “do you have weed?” you asked suddenly, catching him completely off guard. his fingers still against your arm, his breath hitching slightly in shock. you tilt your head back slightly to look up at him as he shifts his away from you, “what’re you talking about?” he asked with a slight chuckle.

his fingers began to trace your skin once again as he continued to speak, “course i got some weed.” a short silence hung over the both of you again as you nodded your head. chris couldn’t help but smirk softly, his free hand reaching over to lightly poke at your side, “why? you want some?” he asked, almost jokingly, knowing that you had never been one to smoke before. in fact, you were always getting onto him for it, telling him that it was a bad habit, even though he insisted that it wasn’t addictive and you had nothing to worry about.

“yeah,” you replied softly, nodding your head. his eyebrows furrowed, moving his body so he could get a closer look at your face. “wait… you’re serious? are you sure?” he quickly asked, trying to decipher if you were joking. something about his concern for you made your heart flutter, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you looked into his deep blue eyes. chewing on the inside of your cheek, you nodded again, “i’m sure… don’t you always tell me that it will make me feel relaxed?”

his face shifted into a slight smile as you recalled what he had said to you in the past. “depends on the strain but yeah. it can help ya relax.” he nodded, impressed that you had remembered that conversation from however long ago. the vinyl scratched slightly as the record ended, making chris immediately get out of bed. he lifted the record off the turntable, shuffling through his collection in search of something new to put on.

your eyes were glued to his back, taking in the sight of his ruffled waves, lowly hanging black sweats, and his signature dark grey zip up jacket. as he placed a new record onto the turntable you spoke up again, “so you have the relaxing kind?” he chuckled, turning around to walk back over to you. “oh, you really weren’t kidding?” he chuckled, standing at the side of the bed as he pulled open the drawer to his side table. his hands shifted through miscellaneous trinkets and papers before he pulled out a metal zippo lighter and a small rectangular case.

sitting cross legged in front of you on the bed, he placed the materials in between the both of you. a small lump formed in your throat as you looked down at the two objects in front of you, chris hadn’t even opened the case yet and you already felt nervous… he glanced up at you, watching as you looked down at the sheets. “are you sure you want to?” he asked carefully, making your eyes meet his. you swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded your head slowly, “i-i want to but…”

“don’t worry… i know what i’m doing.” he reassured, shooting you a playful wink as he began to open the case, revealing five perfectly rolled blunts. the scent of weed instantly became stronger, filling your nostrils as you looked down at the blunts. carefully, you picked one of them up, spinning it between your fingers as you examined it. “promise it’ll help ya relax.” he stated, gently placing his hand over yours as he took the blunt from you. carefully, he placed the end of the joint in between his lips before grabbing the lighter. “just gonna get it started for ya,” he informed, his words slightly muffled as he continued to hold the joint in his mouth.

your eyes stayed glued to him as you watched him skillfully cup one hand around the joint, bringing the lighter up with his other hand. the flame flicked on as the bud glowed red for a brief second before he took in a breath, the rolling paper now lit. the small puff of smoke blew past his lips as he took the joint from his mouth, handing it towards you. “don’t breathe too hard,” he warned as you gently took the joint from him.

“all you gotta do is take a small breath, hold it in for a few seconds and then let it back out.” he instructed, giving his head a short nod to encourage you. shakily, you brought the filter up to your mouth, your lips wrapping around it before glancing back up at chris. “y’ got it..” he encouraged, nodding his head again as he looked at you.

slowly, you took a deep inhale of the joint, the smoke immediately burning your throat and lungs. you stifled a cough as you tried to hold the smoke in, your hand quickly passing the joint back to chris. “atta girl. there you go.” he smiled, watching as you slightly choked on the hit. when you finally breathed out the smoke, a fit of coughs filled the air. chris chuckled, placing the joint back in his mouth as he reached over and grabbed a water bottle off his night stand, unscrewing the cap before passing it to you. he lazily took another hit, inhaling and exhaling the smoke like it was as smooth as the water you were now chugging.

“shit burns,” you rasped out, pulling the bottle of water away for a second before continuing to drink. chris couldn’t help but chuckle at you again, his hand reaching out to rub your thigh, “you get used to it.” your hand brushed his as you slowly took the joint again, determined to take a few more puffs despite the burning. as soon as you placed it back in your mouth you could feel his gaze on you, intense and slightly lazy. glancing up at him you noticed the slight squint in his eyes, glossing over his pupils. his hand continued to soothe your thigh as you smoked more of his joint.

by the time the first side of the vinyl played through, the joint had burned all the way down to the filter. chris’ attention immediately shot over to the turn table, sighing as he got off the bed to flip the track. watching him suddenly felt more surreal, like you weren’t sure if it was just a dream or if your mind was really moving that slow. it felt like you were watching a stop motion video, or like someone was reeling through an old timey film roll. blinking suddenly felt long and drawn out, your body almost melting into his mattress.

chris had made it back to the bed, lazily smiling as he looked over you. “feelin’ okay?” he questioned softly, laying down besides you as you still sat cross legged. all you could do was nod your head, an equally lazy smile pulling on your lips. as he studied your face he could tell that the weed had worked, making your movements slightly slower, your eyes glossy and squinted. his hand wrapped gently around your wrist, pulling you to lay beside him.

“you know what will make you feel even more relaxed?” he asked softly, allowing you to place your head on his bicep as you scooted close. “hmm?” you lazily hummed, making him smile. he pulled you tighter, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt as he began to rub your back. his lips press a firm kiss to the top of your hair, his eyes closing as he focused on holding you close. your skin prickled with goosebumps as his hand softly rubbed the skin of your back, his scent now fully engulfing you as you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. you took in a big breath, allowing his scent to fill every inch of your nose.

he moved back slightly to look at you, his hand moving from your back to cup your face, his thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbone. “y’ work too hard…” he whispered genuinely, taking in every single feature of your face. “doesn’t it feel nice to just lay here…. relaxed?”

you blinked softly as you looked at him, your words slurring together slightly as you agreed, “feels nice…” a small smile formed on his face as his thumb moved down, idly running over your lips. he couldn’t help but stare as they parted instinctively. “so fuckin’ pretty…” he whispered, making your body tingle, cheeks flushing. you were used to his compliments but this time it felt different. maybe it was because of the weed, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you. you shivered under his touch as his thumb lightly grazed over your lips again, gently pulling at your bottom lip. his gaze was glued to them, almost as if he had forgotten that your eyes even existed. “wanna kiss you so bad…” he mumbled his confession, your heart nearly stopping at his words.

you weren’t sure if he had even meant to say that out loud, or if he had even realized that he had. “so do it.” you whispered back, the weed induced haze clouding your mind. his eyes finally shot back up to meet yours, his expression almost shocked like you somehow reached into his thoughts and read his mind, though he was the one who had slipped up. he searched your face for any signs of hesitation and when he didn’t see any you gave him a subtle nod, letting him know it was okay. that was all he needed to pull you close, his hand resting on your jaw as he carefully, slowly connected your lips.

you hummed softly into his mouth, kissing him back with that same, slow, passion. he took his time, his thumb gently tracing your jaw as his lips melted into yours. you felt his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, asking for permission that you were happy to give as you carefully parted your lips. his tongue danced with yours, allowing you to taste him, spearmint and the lingering hint of weed. when he finally broke away you were both breathless. his forehead rested against yours, the tips of your noses brushing together. “god, i’ve wanted to do that for such a long time…” he confessed breathlessly. your fingers mindlessly played with the ends of his hair, “you should get me high more often if this is the outcome.” you whispered, boldly. he smiled, moving you carefully to lay on your back as he hovered above.

“deal.” he whispered back, reconnecting your lips as his hand now held your waist.

[incendiobrock]

i’m working on what i think could be one of the best things i’ve ever written ….. i’m excited to share w you 👀

[incendiobrock]

ouch (but in the best way possible)

⌗ . . . ❛ 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 ❜ christopher sturniolo.

warnings ◞ ˚˖ ࣪ ex!chris, emotional vulnerability, drunk calling, explicit and suggestive content, heartbreak, longing, mentions of masturbation, guilt . . . etc.

note ◞ ˚˖ ࣪ bow divider by @/bernardsbendystraws · · ୨୧

you miss the first call. then the second. by the time your phone lights up for the third time—chris, glowing across the screen—your chest tightens with that old, unwelcome ache you've spent weeks trying to forget.

you don't answer.

not the fourth time. not the fifth.

by the seventh, he stops calling. starts leaving voicemails instead.

you stare at the notifications for a while, thumb hovering. you know better. you know exactly what this will do to you.

still, you press play.

voicemail one — 2:06am

0:47

"hey. s'me. i mean… obviously s'me, right?"

he laughs, light and bitter. you can already tell he's been drinking. his voice is thick, a little slower than usual.

"i don't even know why m'calling. i shouldn't be. i just—fuck. i miss you. i know m'not supposed to say that. i swore i wouldn't say that.”

a pause. you can hear him breathing.

"i think you'd be proud, though. i've been really good at pretendin'. like you don't come up when someone mentions that movie we loved or when i see someone with that hairstyle you always got or hear a song that sounds like you. i jus' swallow it. every time. like s'nothin'. but tonight i guess i forgot how to do that."

beep.

voicemail two — 2:11am

1:28

"you remember that playlist you made me? the one with all the dumb transitions? i listened to it tonight."

a quiet sound, maybe the shuffle of him sitting down.

"it still smells like you in my hoodie. i don't even wear it anymore. jus'—jus' leave it folded. fuck, i sound pathetic."

another pause. longer this time. then:

"i keep dreamin' 'bout you. about your hands. about the way you used to look at me when y'wanted somethin'. i wake up hard and aching and still smelling you in the sheets, even though you're not there. even though s'jus' me."

his voice drops, softer now, tired.

"you ruined me, y'know that?"

beep.

voicemail three — 2:18am

2:14

"i keep tryin' to find pieces of you in other people."

the silence on this one stretches. you hear the drag of a sigh, like he's trying not to cry.

"but they don't laugh like you. they don't kiss like you. they don't know how to touch me the way you did. no one ever fuckin' knew like you did."

his voice breaks on that last part. your throat goes tight.

"and i hate it. i hate you for it. for knowin' me that well. for leavin' anyway."

then quieter, like it slips out without permission—

"i'd let you wreck me again if it meant you'd come back."

beep.

voicemail four — 2:24am

3:09

he's whispering now. and you realize, with a jolt, he's not alone in his bed.

he's talking to you like you are.

"you used to say my name so sweet, remember? chris. chris. chris—like it was yours."

a rustle of blankets, maybe skin.

"sometimes i touch myself to the sound of your voice. not even dirty shit—jus' the way you'd say good morning. or fuck off. or i love you."

your breath catches.

"m'hard right now. been hard since the second ring."

you freeze.

"i don't care if you listen to this. i want you to. i want you to know you still do this to me. that no one's ever made me fall apart jus' by existing."

he groans softly.

"you always knew how to break me. and you always loved it."

beep.

voicemail five — 2:32am

4:11

"y'said no one else would understand me the way you did."

he's breathless now. slower. like he's working through something, deep in it.

"you were right. they don't."

a low noise—his throat, a choked-off moan.

"i was gonna call someone else tonight. someone easy. but it didn't feel right. because she's not you. her hands aren't yours. her mouth doesn't taste like fire and vanilla chapstick and every fuckin' thing i ever needed."

you close your eyes, biting your lip.

"if you were here right now, i'd get on my knees. tell you m'sorry. beg. let you sit on my face until i couldn't breathe. jus' to feel useful again."

his breathing is louder now. uneven.

"you always made me feel owned. and i fuckin' loved it."

beep.

voicemail six — 2:38am

1:59

"i came," he says, and it's so quiet, so wrecked, your heart nearly caves in.

"i came thinkin' about you. still holdin' my phone. still waitin' for you to pick up."

he laughs, but it's hollow.

"you didn't. you won't. i know.”

a pause.

"but fuck, i needed you to hear it. needed you to know i still think about you. every time. every fuckin' time."

another pause. longer. heavier.

"god, m'so tired. i miss your voice. i miss your laugh. i miss your mouth and the way you used to pull my hair and tell me to be quiet."

you can hear it again in his voice—the unspoken thing underneath.

"you always ruined me in the best ways. i think you still are."

beep.

voicemail seven — 2:43am

0:22

"delete these," he says, voice almost clear this time.

"or don't. i don't care. jus'… don't hate me more than you already do."

a soft inhale.

"i meant all of it."

click.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ : @sturniolo-szn2 / @mattscoquette / @sturnsflirt / @tezzzzzzzz . . . .ᐟ

comment or message to get added · · ୨୧

[incendiobrock]

lmfao accurate

matt’s girlfriend texting chris’s girlfriend about chris:

[incendiobrock]

so cute. so sweet. the perfect start to my day was reading this.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSLEEP PARALYSIS * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Chris has another night disturbed by sleep paralysis, but Y/N is there to pull him back to reality.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　sleep paralysis and night terror.

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.

Chris’s body jolted awake with a sharp inhale, the sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a shaky sniffle. His hand darted out automatically, like muscle memory, to the space beside him. It wasn’t even a thought, just an instinct to feel her there. His fingers swept across cold sheets instead.

The other side of the bed was empty.

His brows pulled together immediately, eyes still shut, but the ache behind them was there. His knuckles turned white as he curled his hands into fists and pressed them against his face, scrubbing at the soreness behind his eyes.

Eventually, he forced his lids open, confirming what he already knew. Y/N wasn’t there.

A soft exhaled huff left his lips, feeling disappointment.

The room was dimly lit - one of Y/N’s obsessive habits, keeping string lights glowing low overnight. The golden fairy lights were draped over the edge of the headboard, casting a faint halo across the bed and the hardwood floors.

Normally, Chris would find that annoying. But now? It was her. It was all her.

And he needed her.

Because the stinging behind his eyes wasn’t just from rubbing them too hard. The puffiness was still there. Residual fear tangled in the memory of what had dragged him out of sleep hours ago.

His chest gave a tight little hitch as the memory swam back uninvited.

The feeling of being locked in his own body, frozen, entirely aware of everything around him. The shadows in the corners. The weight on his chest. The inability to move. The dread crawling up his spine like insects under his skin.

He swallowed thickly.

But the worst part wasn’t the monster. It was the aloneness. That helpless panic of knowing you were awake and trapped and screaming inside with no way out.

Until her voice.

#. flashback

The clock read 3:07 AM when it started. Chris didn’t see the numbers, but somehow, he knew.

It was always at 3 AM.

The room was silent, drenched in that stillness that only happens in the dead of night.

He thought he was awake.

That’s always how it started.

His brain whispered, you’re awake. But his body? It said otherwise.

He tried to roll over, to shift closer to Y/N’s warmth, but his limbs stayed frozen, stiff and heavy like they were cemented into the mattress. His chest rose and fell in short, sharp breaths, and even that felt forced, like someone else was commanding his body.

His eyes fluttered open just barely. Just enough.

And that’s when he knew.

It wasn’t a dream.

It was the other thing.

The thing that happened once every few months and left him wrecked for days.

Sleep paralysis.

Instant dread slid through his spine like ice water.

He couldn’t move.

Couldn’t scream.

Couldn’t blink fully.

The bedroom around him looked weird. Familiar, but off. The fairy lights Y/N had left on were still glowing faintly, but they cast long, weird shadows against the walls. Everything looked taller, darker, like the corners had grown teeth.

There was a presence. He felt it before he saw it.

At first, it was in the corner, like something half-there. Then it shifted. The shadow grew arms. Legs. A body. Eyes.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. But his brain didn’t care.

The figure moved slow. Closer.

Chris wanted to scream for Y/N. He tried. He swore he did, but nothing came out. His throat was tight, locked. Panic exploded in his chest like fireworks.

His heart was slamming, but his body still wouldn’t respond.

His gaze flicked helplessly toward Y/N. She was curled on her side, facing away, oblivious.

Help me. Please, help me.

He thought the words, tried to push them into the air, but all that came was silence.

The figure stood now, just at the foot of the bed. Watching him.

Chris’s eyes watered on instinct. He could feel the tears spilling slowly toward his ears, warm and slow. His lashes stuck together. His cheeks tingled. And all he could do was lay there.

His breathing turned shallow and rapid. His stomach clenched in a cold panic as the figure leaned closer. The air grew thick, like breathing through wool.

He wanted to die. Or wake up. Or anything.

Wake up.

WAKE UP.

Then, a sound.

So faint. But real.

"Chris?"

It was her.

A flicker of warmth sparked somewhere deep in his chest.

"Babe?"

She sounded sleepy. Groggy. But alert, concern already dripping on her words.

He couldn’t respond.

He begged his body.

Move. Move, move, MOVE.

But it didn’t listen.

Y/N stirred and rolled over. Her hand brushed his forearm, but she stopped immediately.

He was stiff. Breath erratic. Trembling, but completely still.

Her instincts kicked in like lightning. She sat up fast, blinking into the half-dark. Her eyes landed on him, face expressionless, body locked, lips parted just slightly like he was trying to speak but couldn’t. His eyes were wide open, lids twitching like a nightmare on replay.

"Chris." She whispered, voice already breaking. "You’re stuck, aren’t you?"

She touched his cheek. His skin was burning.

Without hesitation, she leaned down, fingers threading through his damp curls.

"Baby. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here."

She kissed his temple gently, slowly whispering between each one.

"Come back to me. Right now, okay? You’re safe. It’s not real."

Her thumb rubbed soft circles into the side of his jaw full of stubble.

"You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you."

And it was that touch, her voice in his ear, her hand on his face, the smell of her hoodie pressed against him, that cracked the shell.

He gasped so hard it scared her, shooting upright in bed like he’d just been pulled out of drowning. His sobs came before he could even register them, big, ugly ones that he tried to swallow back but couldn't, throat feeling like being chocked.

She cradled his face instantly, sitting cross-legged and pulling him into her lap like he weighed nothing.

"I got you. I got you." She whispered again and again, like the words could build a fortress.

He buried his face in her neck, shoulders shaking, fingers bunching the back of her hoodie in tight fists like a scared kid. She swayed them gently, rocking ever so slightly, humming something soft and tuneless into his ear.

"I’m sorry." He choked eventually. "It was so bad this time. It was right there. I thought- fuck- I thought it was gonna kill me."

"Shhh." She cooed, cupping the back of his head. "No more thinking. It’s gone. You’re here. You’re with me."

Chris exhaled against her skin like he was finally letting go.

She didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to fix anything. She just held him like it was her only job in the world.

Now, the bed felt empty in every sense of the word.

Chris bit the inside of his cheek and swung his legs off the mattress, planting his feet on the floor. It was still stupid early, the house silent, but he couldn’t lie there alone any longer.

He stood up slowly, the cold air instantly wrapping around his skin, and grabbed the hoodie draped over Y/N’s side of the bed.

Hers.

It smelled like vanilla and cinnamon and something vaguely coconut. He tugged it on. Way too different than his. Didn’t care.

Chris moved to the door.

He wasn’t walking so much as he was gliding. Floating. But not in a cool way. More like his soul hadn't fully synced back into his body, and everything felt a second too slow. His limbs dragged behind the beat of his brain. He blinked slowly, eyes burning like he hadn’t actually slept - because, well, he hadn’t.

Not really.

Sleep paralysis didn’t count. That wasn’t sleep. That was survival.

The hallway outside their bedroom was bathed in faint natural light from upstairs. Chris padded quietly through it, passing the little gallery wall Y/N had insisted on hanging close to the stairs, pics of them at Disney, blurry Polaroids of their family, a goofy drawing of Chris that she’d doodled and stuck in a frame.

He’d complained, of course. But every time he walked past it, he smiled.

His - her - hoodie sleeves were stretched over his hands, his socked feet scuffed softly on the cold stairs as he moved up like a ghost into the kitchen.

Everything was too bright. Too loud. The hum of the TV turned on was a knife in his ear.

But somewhere through the noise, he heard it.

Y/N’s laugh.

Like a thread pulling him through the fog.

He didn’t register anything else. Not the smell of breakfast, not the clatter of a pan, not even Matt mid-rant about something he didn't care to understand.

No.

He was moving like a moth drawn to a light.

Her. His light.

He reached her and didn’t say a word. Just... collapsed.

"Eugh- oh!"

Y/N jerked slightly when the full weight of her boyfriend crashed into her body. He dropped his head into the curve of her neck like it was a pillow made for him and let out the heaviest exhale in the history of breathing.

"Oh hi." She said gently, instantly reading the energy. "You okay?" She whispered, already knowing the answer but needing to ask anyway.

Chris shook his head, and her arms moved automatically. Her hand lifted instinctively, burying into his mess of curls like second nature. Fingertips dug softly into his scalp in slow, practiced motions. Like she knew exactly where to press, how to scratch without irritating the skin, how to soothe without even speaking.

Chris let out another breath. This one almost sounded like a sigh of relief. Like someone had finally hit the mute button on his brain.

He didn’t even bother opening his eyes, and the chatter in the kitchen went on.

Matt was still talking, flipping pancakes and acting like Chris hadn't just entered the room looking like a dead men.

Y/N swayed them slightly side to side, a motion so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for breathing, but it wasn’t. She was rocking him.

Chris let himself melt.

There was nothing in his mind now but the smell of her vanilla body wash and the warm press of her cheek against his hoodie.

And then, he felt it.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap. Tap.

His lips curled into a small smile that barely made it out.

She was doing it again.

Tapping the words on his back with her fingers, the same thing she used to do the first few months of dating when they’d lie in bed and she’d say 'Okay, guess what I’m saying', like it was a game. She’d tap the syllables on his back using some random rhythm that was loosely inspired by morse code.

And he always knew the ending.

Always.

I love you.

She always ended with that.

So Chris whispered it before she could tap the last part. His voice cracked slightly, still rasped from sleep and silence.

"I love you too." He mumbled against her shoulder, his chin still tucked in tight, jaw moving softly against her skin, stubble tickling exposed flesh.

Y/N kissed the top of his ear like it was a thank-you note, her lips lingering.

Matt was still cooking like none of this was happening.

"Anyway, I told him, Nick, if you drink the last apple cider, just say that. Don’t gaslight me into thinking I imagined it, like I don’t have eyes-"

Chris blinked his eyes open just barely and turned his head to rest his cheek against Y/N’s collarbone. The warmth from her body seeped into his, melting him even further. His arms stayed limp, wrapped loosely around her waist like his body had finally stopped bracing itself for impact.

He wasn’t going to say anything about the night before. Not yet.

Not until the shaking stopped.

Not until he stopped feeling like he was half here.

But Y/N already knew. She always knew.

I mean, she was the one who was always there when it happened. Again and again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up." She whispered low so Matt wouldn’t hear. Her lips brushed his ear as she spoke. "You okay now?"

He nodded faintly.

"You helped."

"Always." She added gently, fingers still in his hair.

Chris exhaled again. He was doing a lot of that. It was the only thing grounding him. Her scent. Her voice. Her hands. Her presence.

Matt slid a plate of pancakes onto the table.

"Okay, sorry to interrupt, but these pancakes are amazing. Like, Gordon Ramsay could never."

Chris didn’t even lift his head. He just let out a soft grunt that vaguely sounded like 'Nice', and let himself stay wrapped around his girlfriend like she was a life bed.

Y/N smiled and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Wanna sit down and eat?"

He shook his head into her shoulder.

"Five more minutes."

She laughed quietly, resting her chin on top of his head.

"Take your time, sweet boy."

Matt watched the scene with a fond smile and leaned against the counter.

"You good, man?"

Chris gave the smallest thumbs-up from where his hands were buried in Y/N’s hips.

Matt nodded.

"Cool. I’ll keep the pancakes warm. You two do your dramatic comfort thing. I support it."

"Thank you, chef." Y/N said with a tiny salute.

Chris chuckled softly under his breath. It was barely there. But it was real.

Some minutes passed before slowly, Chris shifted. It was more like a lean than a step, but it was something. He peeled his chest away from hers and shuffled toward the table. His socked feet barely lifted from the floor as he dragged himself toward one of the plush chairs. His hand reached behind him, a silent gesture that made Y/N’s heart squeeze.

She caught it.

Gently, she slipped her hand into his and followed him.

She maneuvered them both down onto the soft chairs, guiding him to sit first, then tucked herself right beside him. So close their knees bumped, so close that their thighs pressed together.

She reached across the table and slid his plate over, followed by hers, sending a quiet mental thank-you to Matt for already drenching both pancakes in syrup like he knew neither of them had the brainpower to do it.

Chris picked up his fork slowly. His hand was a little shaky, nothing wild, just enough that she noticed. The metal clinked against the porcelain plate as he cut into the pancake, then lifted a bite to his mouth.

The moment the buttery sweetness hit his tongue, he let out a sigh.

"... I really thought I was gonna die." He said eventually, voice barely above a whisper, gulping the piece of pancake. "I'm not even kidding. I couldn’t move. I felt like something was sitting on my chest."

Y/N’s heart cracked in two. She turned toward him, lifting her hand to his face. Her thumb brushed over the dark skin just under his eye, so soft, so tired. She could feel the faint puffiness there.

"I know, baby." She murmured. "I know. That shit’s terrifying."

Chris didn’t answer right away. He just blinked at her, eyes glazed with something that wasn’t quite tears anymore but still nowhere near peace. He looked like he was stuck halfway between two states of being.

"I feel so dumb." He said, his voice cracking just a little on the last word.

Y/N didn’t let him finish that thought.

"Don’t even say that." She said quickly, firmly. Her hand cupped his jaw now, guiding his gaze back to hers. "You’re not dumb. You’re human. And your brain does freaky shit sometimes. Doesn’t make it less valid."

He swallowed. His throat worked slowly, like even that motion was difficult.

And then she softened again. The tension in her hand eased, her thumb stroking once more beneath his eye.

"Also." She added, tilting her head just slightly. "You cried in your sleep and still managed to look pretty. That should be illegal."

Chris huffed out a breath. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was close. The corners of his mouth twitched, just a little, and his cheeks flushed the faintest pink. He looked down, ducking his head, but Y/N leaned forward anyway.

"There’s my boy." She whispered, just before kissing his temple, her lips lingering on his skin for some seconds.

His hand came up to cradle her thigh, grounding himself, and she stayed close, their foreheads brushing, breaths mingling.

"I got you." She breathed.

"I know." Chris whispered back.

Eventually, they leaned back again. Chris finally took another bite of pancake, this time without hesitation. Y/N followed, watching him closely.

"Can we just... do nothing today?" He mumbled some minutes after.

She smiled softly, finishing her chewing.

"Already canceled our plans in my head."

"You’re my favorite person."

"Yeah." She whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. "You’re mine, too."

© vanteguccir

[incendiobrock]

rockstar girl

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y/n.l/n posted just now

liked by christophersturniolo, madisonbeer, and 615k others

y/n.l/n support the arts and sleep with a musician, or whatever they say 🎸

christophersturniolo my lil rockstar girl

| y.n/l.n love ya rockstar boy 💋

madisonbeer thank you for touring with me !!

| y.n/l.n ofc anything to see my two fav people on stage !

| christophersturniolo had fun rocking w you

nicolassturniolo the caption 💀

matthew.sturniolo he should go on tour more, the house has been so quiet without him

| christophersturniolo stfu you know you miss me

a/n: all photo creds goes to pinterest!! i just love a good rockstar chris au

[incendiobrock]

i wanna go through all my posts and make sure they are 100% cohesive because i have a new style i use now but i fear that would take me so long 😮‍💨

[incendiobrock]

lonely, longing nights {chris sturniolo}

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pairing(s): bf!chris x gf!reader

warning(s): sad, long distance relationship

summary: when chris is away on the surprise party tour you can’t help but miss him.

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the house was quiet.

deadly quiet. your boyfriend wasn’t there to crack any jokes, yell or bounce off the walls, or fill the space with his unmistakable laughter.

it was dark too.

the sun was long gone. the glow of the moon leaking through the window was the only source of light coming into the bedroom. it felt wrong.

you had no reason to feel this way.

at least that’s what you told yourself… over and over and over again. chris was out on tour with his brothers. he was meeting fans and doing what he loved.

your eyelids were heavy as you laid in the cold, empty bed. the time ticked by slowly as you waited for his call. the show had to be over soon and then you could hear his voice.

your gaze was locked on the window, looking at the moon as you answered his call.

“hi gorgeous, how was your day?” he asked excitedly, his voice emitting from the speaker with that unmistakable laugh, presumably caused by one of his brothers.

“it was good,” you answered a little too quickly “how was the show?”

“it was amazing! everything went perfectly and i got to reveal my surprise. you should’ve seen matt and nick’s face! holy shit it was the funniest thing i’ve ever seen! the way nick’s jaw dropped-“ chris recounted the entire show, the bright smile evident in just his voice over the phone.

“-yeah that’s nice babe.” your words interrupting his, something noticeably off in your tone. chris immediately faltered, his grip on the phone tightening slightly as he quickly brought it up to his ear, taking it off speaker.

“hey, you okay? what’s wrong?” his voice now soft and worried.

“nothings wrong, just tired.” you replied, feeling too guilty to tell him the true reason. why would you make him feel bad about being away on tour?

“…are you sure? it sounds like you’re upset..” he said cautiously, beginning to pace slightly inside the tour bus.

“i think i should go to bed. it’s late here, y’know?” the edge in your voice instantly bringing you the feeling of regret.

“…yeah, uh, okay… i love you so much, sleep well, alright? i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“mhm, love you.” you mumbled in response before quickly cutting the line. your eyes stung as they welled up with all the tears you had managed to hold back throughout the day.

sinking into the mattress you welcomed the tears.

who knew that a tour could feel so lonely?

[incendiobrock]

THIS IS SICKENING

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

Clip from this tt <33

[incendiobrock]

you get me so {chris sturniolo}

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pairing(s): stoner!bff!chris x innocent!bff!reader

warning(s): smoking weed, language, sloppy make out

summary: when you need a break from your college work and request to smoke, chris is happy to help you out.

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textbooks were scattered across the floor, packets of papers and an open laptop not far behind. a wooden pencil fidgeted between your fingers, drumming lightly on one of the books as your eyes skimmed the pages. the room was dimly lit, the only light emitting from some string lights and a small desk lamp. a vinyl spun softly in the background, filling the room with deftones, and that familiar scent that lingered in the air.

dior sauvage, incense sticks, and a slight hint of weed was the best way to describe it. it was a scent you had grown to love, a scent that reminded you of him. a soft groan escaped your lips, your head pounding from the hours spent studying and taking countless (useless) notes. the carpeted floor was no longer offering any comfort as you struggled to lay in a better position.

“why don’t you take a break?” his voice filled the air, breaking the comfortable silence that had last between the two of you for the past hour or so. you looked over your shoulder to see him sitting against his headboard, looking down at you as you laid on the ground at the foot of his bed. with a sigh you shut your laptop, “i can’t… i still have to catch up on my lecture and start my thesis for-“

“-ah, ah, ah.” he tsked, cutting off your sentence. “you told me one more hour like.. two hours ago.” he looked at you pointedly, eyebrows slightly raised as he mentioned the promise you’d made to him to at least take a break. glancing down at your watch, you realized how much time had passed, feeling even more doomed for the amount of work you still had left. quickly, you stacked up all your textbooks, moving the pile out of the middle of the floor before you stood up to stretch.

“okay. i’ll take a break but i can only wait about thirty minutes before i need to get back to my work.” you agreed, crawling to sit at the end of the bed, facing him. he shifted slightly before patting the space besides him, “c’ mere.” his voice muttered softly. as soon as you fell into place beside him, his arm wrapped over your shoulders, tucking you into his side. “you work too hard, y’ know?” he whispered. leaning into his side you shrugged your shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as your head continued to pound.

his fingers idly traced the skin of your arm, looking down at you, carefully taking in your expression. “just relax ma.. i gotchu, you know that.” his words tickled the top of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “do you have weed?” you asked suddenly, catching him completely off guard. his fingers still against your arm, his breath hitching slightly in shock. you tilt your head back slightly to look up at him as he shifts his away from you, “what’re you talking about?” he asked with a slight chuckle.

his fingers began to trace your skin once again as he continued to speak, “course i got some weed.” a short silence hung over the both of you again as you nodded your head. chris couldn’t help but smirk softly, his free hand reaching over to lightly poke at your side, “why? you want some?” he asked, almost jokingly, knowing that you had never been one to smoke before. in fact, you were always getting onto him for it, telling him that it was a bad habit, even though he insisted that it wasn’t addictive and you had nothing to worry about.

“yeah,” you replied softly, nodding your head. his eyebrows furrowed, moving his body so he could get a closer look at your face. “wait… you’re serious? are you sure?” he quickly asked, trying to decipher if you were joking. something about his concern for you made your heart flutter, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you looked into his deep blue eyes. chewing on the inside of your cheek, you nodded again, “i’m sure… don’t you always tell me that it will make me feel relaxed?”

his face shifted into a slight smile as you recalled what he had said to you in the past. “depends on the strain but yeah. it can help ya relax.” he nodded, impressed that you had remembered that conversation from however long ago. the vinyl scratched slightly as the record ended, making chris immediately get out of bed. he lifted the record off the turntable, shuffling through his collection in search of something new to put on.

your eyes were glued to his back, taking in the sight of his ruffled waves, lowly hanging black sweats, and his signature dark grey zip up jacket. as he placed a new record onto the turntable you spoke up again, “so you have the relaxing kind?” he chuckled, turning around to walk back over to you. “oh, you really weren’t kidding?” he chuckled, standing at the side of the bed as he pulled open the drawer to his side table. his hands shifted through miscellaneous trinkets and papers before he pulled out a metal zippo lighter and a small rectangular case.

sitting cross legged in front of you on the bed, he placed the materials in between the both of you. a small lump formed in your throat as you looked down at the two objects in front of you, chris hadn’t even opened the case yet and you already felt nervous… he glanced up at you, watching as you looked down at the sheets. “are you sure you want to?” he asked carefully, making your eyes meet his. you swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded your head slowly, “i-i want to but…”

“don’t worry… i know what i’m doing.” he reassured, shooting you a playful wink as he began to open the case, revealing five perfectly rolled blunts. the scent of weed instantly became stronger, filling your nostrils as you looked down at the blunts. carefully, you picked one of them up, spinning it between your fingers as you examined it. “promise it’ll help ya relax.” he stated, gently placing his hand over yours as he took the blunt from you. carefully, he placed the end of the joint in between his lips before grabbing the lighter. “just gonna get it started for ya,” he informed, his words slightly muffled as he continued to hold the joint in his mouth.

your eyes stayed glued to him as you watched him skillfully cup one hand around the joint, bringing the lighter up with his other hand. the flame flicked on as the bud glowed red for a brief second before he took in a breath, the rolling paper now lit. the small puff of smoke blew past his lips as he took the joint from his mouth, handing it towards you. “don’t breathe too hard,” he warned as you gently took the joint from him.

“all you gotta do is take a small breath, hold it in for a few seconds and then let it back out.” he instructed, giving his head a short nod to encourage you. shakily, you brought the filter up to your mouth, your lips wrapping around it before glancing back up at chris. “y’ got it..” he encouraged, nodding his head again as he looked at you.

slowly, you took a deep inhale of the joint, the smoke immediately burning your throat and lungs. you stifled a cough as you tried to hold the smoke in, your hand quickly passing the joint back to chris. “atta girl. there you go.” he smiled, watching as you slightly choked on the hit. when you finally breathed out the smoke, a fit of coughs filled the air. chris chuckled, placing the joint back in his mouth as he reached over and grabbed a water bottle off his night stand, unscrewing the cap before passing it to you. he lazily took another hit, inhaling and exhaling the smoke like it was as smooth as the water you were now chugging.

“shit burns,” you rasped out, pulling the bottle of water away for a second before continuing to drink. chris couldn’t help but chuckle at you again, his hand reaching out to rub your thigh, “you get used to it.” your hand brushed his as you slowly took the joint again, determined to take a few more puffs despite the burning. as soon as you placed it back in your mouth you could feel his gaze on you, intense and slightly lazy. glancing up at him you noticed the slight squint in his eyes, glossing over his pupils. his hand continued to soothe your thigh as you smoked more of his joint.

by the time the first side of the vinyl played through, the joint had burned all the way down to the filter. chris’ attention immediately shot over to the turn table, sighing as he got off the bed to flip the track. watching him suddenly felt more surreal, like you weren’t sure if it was just a dream or if your mind was really moving that slow. it felt like you were watching a stop motion video, or like someone was reeling through an old timey film roll. blinking suddenly felt long and drawn out, your body almost melting into his mattress.

chris had made it back to the bed, lazily smiling as he looked over you. “feelin’ okay?” he questioned softly, laying down besides you as you still sat cross legged. all you could do was nod your head, an equally lazy smile pulling on your lips. as he studied your face he could tell that the weed had worked, making your movements slightly slower, your eyes glossy and squinted. his hand wrapped gently around your wrist, pulling you to lay beside him.

“you know what will make you feel even more relaxed?” he asked softly, allowing you to place your head on his bicep as you scooted close. “hmm?” you lazily hummed, making him smile. he pulled you tighter, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt as he began to rub your back. his lips press a firm kiss to the top of your hair, his eyes closing as he focused on holding you close. your skin prickled with goosebumps as his hand softly rubbed the skin of your back, his scent now fully engulfing you as you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. you took in a big breath, allowing his scent to fill every inch of your nose.

he moved back slightly to look at you, his hand moving from your back to cup your face, his thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbone. “y’ work too hard…” he whispered genuinely, taking in every single feature of your face. “doesn’t it feel nice to just lay here…. relaxed?”

you blinked softly as you looked at him, your words slurring together slightly as you agreed, “feels nice…” a small smile formed on his face as his thumb moved down, idly running over your lips. he couldn’t help but stare as they parted instinctively. “so fuckin’ pretty…” he whispered, making your body tingle, cheeks flushing. you were used to his compliments but this time it felt different. maybe it was because of the weed, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you. you shivered under his touch as his thumb lightly grazed over your lips again, gently pulling at your bottom lip. his gaze was glued to them, almost as if he had forgotten that your eyes even existed. “wanna kiss you so bad…” he mumbled his confession, your heart nearly stopping at his words.

you weren’t sure if he had even meant to say that out loud, or if he had even realized that he had. “so do it.” you whispered back, the weed induced haze clouding your mind. his eyes finally shot back up to meet yours, his expression almost shocked like you somehow reached into his thoughts and read his mind, though he was the one who had slipped up. he searched your face for any signs of hesitation and when he didn’t see any you gave him a subtle nod, letting him know it was okay. that was all he needed to pull you close, his hand resting on your jaw as he carefully, slowly connected your lips.

you hummed softly into his mouth, kissing him back with that same, slow, passion. he took his time, his thumb gently tracing your jaw as his lips melted into yours. you felt his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, asking for permission that you were happy to give as you carefully parted your lips. his tongue danced with yours, allowing you to taste him, spearmint and the lingering hint of weed. when he finally broke away you were both breathless. his forehead rested against yours, the tips of your noses brushing together. “god, i’ve wanted to do that for such a long time…” he confessed breathlessly. your fingers mindlessly played with the ends of his hair, “you should get me high more often if this is the outcome.” you whispered, boldly. he smiled, moving you carefully to lay on your back as he hovered above.

“deal.” he whispered back, reconnecting your lips as his hand now held your waist.

[incendiobrock]

surprise party tour {chris sturniolo}

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pairing(s): bf!chris x reader

summary: chris reveals his tour surprise at the boston show.

warning(s): none!!

not proofread!! just a short little blurb i thought up :)

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chris, matt, and nick had been planning on going on tour for nearly a year. ever since their first two tours they knew that they had a passion to travel from state to state, meeting fans, and putting on a show for them to enjoy. it also was no secret that they often traveled back and forth between their parents home in boston and their home in los angeles which meant that the idea of owning a pet was out of the question.

you had talked to chris numerous times about how their place would feel so much more homey with a cat running around but he always shut it down.

“come on chris, can’t you imagine it? look, there’s the perfect spot for a cat tree,” you said, pointing over to the corner of the living room besides the sofa. “and over there we could put the food and water, and if you’re so worried about the litter box then-“

“babygirl, we talked about this..” chris softly chuckled, cutting you off as he placed his hands on your arms, looking into your eyes. “i know you want a cat but we go out of town way too much… plus you know we are planning on touring again in a few months.” he reminded you. you sighed softly, you hadn’t forgotten but that didn’t change your mind about wanting a furry companion. “chris i know but… can’t you just think about it?” you whined softly, a frown forming on your lips.

he smiled gently, pressing a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead before connecting his lips to yours. “you know i’d do anything to make you happy… but it wouldn’t be fair to the cat.” he mumbled against your lips.

you had even tried your best to rope matt into your shenanigans, planting the idea of owning a cat into his mind. even with matt’s help trying to convince chris, he still wouldn’t budge.

now, the idea of owning a cat was temporarily placed on the back burner as you traveled with the triplets for their tour where they revealed a surprise at each show. the boys had their show in boston tonight and chris had refused to let you know what he had filmed for it.

you were both on the tour bus as chris was finishing up getting ready for the meet and greet portion of the show. “come on chris, just tell me! i don’t understand why you’re being so secretive.” you smiled widely, watching him as he pulled on his leather jacket and put on a backwards cap in the mirror. “shhh, patience baby.” he replied, holding his finger up to his mouth as he shushed you.

“you’re just gonna have to find out when it plays on the screen.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss you quickly, patting you on the hip to signal for you to get up from the couch. you rolled your eyes playfully, kissing him back before standing up from the couch and following him off the bus and into the venue. the show had started and you couldn’t help but have a permanent smile on your face as you stood just off stage. the crowd was loud and enthusiastic and you felt so emotional and happy for the boys and all of their hard work.

the anonymous confessions were wrapping up and you knew it was almost time for the big reveal. the giant screen behind them played the video that let the audience know whose surprise was coming. you could practically feel the tension in the room as everyone watched with curiosity. finally, chris stepped around the corner in his tux, filling the entire screen, and the fans went wild. yelling and screaming echoed through the crowd. “i actually can’t wait for this one!” chris smiled, talking into the mic as he looked over at matt and nick on the orange sofa across from him.

chris stood up from his seat, making his way over to the the cabinet where he kept a hidden hint for his surprise. “alright matt, nick, are you guys ready for my hint?” chris chuckled, his hand on the handle of the cabinet, waiting to open it. “the anticipation is killing me, just open it!” nick said, bouncing his leg up and down. you watched intently as chris opened up the cabinet pulling out…. a ball of yarn?

“uhhh…” matt said into the mic, watching as chris tossed the yarn ball in his direction. matt caught it with ease, turning it around in his hand as he examined it. “you took a knitting class?” nick asked, his mouth hanging open in shock as he watched chris’ smug grin. you felt your own eyebrows furrowing as you tried to figure out what chris’ hint could mean.

“okay, knitting.. what do you think matt?” chris prompted, looking over at matt as he still held the yarn ball. “yeah maybe you… up-cycled some clothes or something?” matt guessed. some of the audience cheered in agreement as matt tossed the yarn ball back to chris. he caught the ball with one hand, smiling into the mic, “alright, alright.. those are two good guesses. knitting class and up cycling some clothes. can we have someone in the audience take a guess before we play the video?” chris says, looking out over the bright stage lights.

one of the stage crew passed a mic to someone in the crowd. after they introduced themselves to the audience they took their guess, “i think you made some new designs for fresh love.” the audience went wild, hoping that was the correct answer. chris didn’t reveal anything further as he took a seat back on his sofa, legs spread as he leaned his elbows on his knees, watching as the video began.

the projector started rolling and chris once again filled the screen. he was standing outside of a building that was far in the background, only the bricks showing in frame. “what’s up guys! this surprise is very special to me for two reasons, one because i know that it’s playing for the boston show. and two because i have some special helpers who made this all possible.” chris began speaking into the camera. the camera panned and mary lou and jimmy waved to the lens, saying hello.

the scene cut and now showed chris’ back as he walked towards the building, opening up the door as his mom and dad followed him inside. when the camera cut again, chris’ face filled the screen as he spoke, “i’m not sure what all to get… mom can you help me pick this out? which one do you think?” chris asked, showing his mom something out of the cameras frame. she smiled genuinely as she pointed to whatever the item was, “that one for sure.”

the next clip showed chris ringing up something at a check lane, his hand then covering the items on the receipt as he showed his total. “this better be worth it, this is one of my most expensive surprises for this tour.” he chuckled. everybody watched in suspense as the video then showed chris loading the trunk with a bunch of various, unlabeled grocery bags.

“i’m so lost.” nick admitted as he watched the screen. “shhh, just be quiet!” chris chuckled, pointing back up to the screen as the video continued playing. as the scene changed again everybody instantly recognized the new location, the triplets boston house.

“my parents were nice enough to help me with this surprise, i wouldn’t have been able to do it without them. i needed to do this surprise back in boston for a reason because i knew me, matt, and nick would be on tour…. with that being said, meet the newest addition to our family,” chris spoke into the camera before it panned over to the ground where a brown tabby cat swatted at a toy mouse.

from the side of the stage your mouth flew open, your hands coming up to cover your mouth in shock. the cutest cat filled the screen as it played with its toys and ran around his parents living room. “no fucking way!” matt yelled into the mic, equally as in shock as you were. nick sat in silence, too surprised to say anything as the cats meow could be heard on the video.

the video ended and you could feel happy tears forming in your eyes as you watched chris from off stage. he couldn’t help but laugh at his brothers and the audiences reaction. his eyes glanced across the stage, immediately making eye contact with you and sending you a wink before he lifted the mic back up to his mouth, “hang on..” he said, the audience quieting down to hear him speak.

“baby, can you come out here?” chris asked into the mic, still looking at me from the stage. the crowd immediately erupted back into cheers, knowing immediately who chris was talking to. with a shocked expression you walked out onto the stage, having no clue that he was going to bring you up there. you shyly waved to the fans as you scurried across the stage to sit besides him on the couch.

you began to speak in gibberish, chris being the only one who could hear you since you didn’t have a mic. a crew member quickly rushed out onto the stage, taping your shoulder and passing you your own microphone. “you got your parents a cat?” you finally said into the mic, you voice cutting through the excited chatter around the room. chris’ lips pressed together in a sly smile as he shook his head, making you furrow your brows.

“i got us a cat..” he rephrased, placing his hand on your thigh with a reassuring squeeze. your eyes widen as you looked at him, the shock resurfacing in your body as you took in his words. his eyes filled with pure love as he watched your expression, everybody else in the room becoming invisible.

“mom and dad have been taking care of him for the past month.. you have no idea how hard it was to keep this from you.” he said, his voice suddenly a lot softer than before as his hand gently rubbed your thigh. his touch was warm and gentle and only made you feel even more emotional. “what’s his name?” your voice squeaked out softly. “i’m letting you name him.” chris informed you.

a soft smile played across your lips as your mind instantly started to ponder the cat names you had always considered if you were to get one. “i know you’ve been begging me for a cat for nearly a year.. i guess i finally caved.” he chuckled, watching as a few happy tears glistened down your cheeks. you pulled chris into a tight hug, unable to contain yourself anymore, “thank you, thank you, thank you. i love it so much.” you said quickly, holding him tight. he hugged you back, kissing your temple, “of course baby.. i can’t wait for you to meet him.”

[incendiobrock]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSURPRISE PARTY TOUR: PHILLY'S FRESH LOVE SHIRT * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where after the Surprise Party Tour show in Philadelphia, Y/N steals Chris's Fresh Love t-shirt to sleep in, leading his stylist to madness.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　slightly suggestive content.

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.

1:24 a.m.

The show had wrapped a little while ago. Chris was lounging on a giant beanbag in the shared hotel suite's living room with Matt and Nick, half-talking about ideas for show number sixth, half-scrolling through his phone.

His voice was a little hoarse, hair still damp from a post-show shower, his body now covered in black shorts and an old white tee that barely clung to his shoulder.

Y/N had tapped out just after midnight - "feeling tired for sitting in the firs' row and lookin' pretty, ma?" he’d teased, tucking her in with a forehead kiss. She’d just grumbled something sleepy and curled into the hotel pillows, and he had smiled so fondly it made his stomach feel stupid.

The boys were still deep in a debate when the suite door opened, and Paula stepped in like a caffeine-deprived tornado. She looked done, heels in hand, bun falling apart, holding a list on her iPad.

"Where’s your FL long sleeve?" She asked, brows furrowed as she noticed him not wearing it.

Chris blinked, confused.

"Uh... should be on the hanger? Next to the jeans I wore and my red cap."

"Yeah, it’s not." She replied dryly, arms crossed, hip popped. "And I need it now."

He narrowed his eyes.

"I literally just put it there, swear on my life."

"Well, unless it sprouted legs and walked out." Paula deadpanned. "We have a disappearing shirt situation, and I need to solve it before I throw myself off the balcony."

Chris suddenly paused, eyes widening a fraction as something clicked.

"Give me like, one second. I might have an idea."

He stood up fast, ignoring Matt’s suspicious "What did you do now?" and Nick’s "He probably put it in the wrong place."

But Chris was already grabbing his keycard and taking the elevator up to the penthouse.

The second the door clicked open, he stepped into complete darkness. Quietly, he walked to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything, and stopped in the doorway.

There she was.

His girl was sprawled in the middle of the massive bed, limbs tangled in the blankets, hair a little wild from tossing around.

And yeah, there it was.

The missing Fresh Love long sleeve, draped over her like it belonged to her.

Which, fair. It kind of did.

She had its sleeves rolled, her white soft cotton panties barely visible under the hem, and the collar so stretched it hung off her shoulder.

Chris’s chest actually ached. He stared for a second too long, hands in his pockets, totally gone. His mouth twitched with a slow smile.

Yeah. That shirt ain’t going back without a fight.

He padded over, silently reaching for his own tee on his back and tugging it up his head, careful not to wake her, but the bed creaked slightly when he knelt on it. She stirred with a sleepy groan.

"Doll." He whispered, throwing his shirt aside before brushing hair off her cheek, lips close to her skin. "Baby. Wake up f'me."

She squinted one eye open, nose scrunching, voice all gravel and sleep.

"What? 'Want to sleep."

"I know, babe." Chris smiled softly. "Y' little thief, stole my shirt, huh?"

"Nooo." She mumbled, turning her face into the pillow. "Didn’t steal. Borrowed."

"Y/N, I need it back." He chuckled, nudging her onto her back. "Paula’s gonna skin me alive if I don’t hand it over."

"Mmm... tell Paula I’m emotionally attached. Shirt’s mine now." She murmured, wrapping the hem around her fingers.

He let out a breathy laugh, dragging his eyes over her frame, his mouth watering when he noticed her harden nipples pressed up against the white cotton.

"You know this thing’s dirty in post-show sweat, right? Y'little filthy."

"And yet." She yawned, eyes barely open. "I love it. Smells like you."

Chris felt like his heart was going to knock out of his chest.

"God, I’m so in love with you it’s dumb."

"Love you too, hubby." She whispered, and yeah- there it was.

The pet name that always hit him like a train. She called him that a million times over the past three years, and he still felt light-headed with it.

He swallowed hard, brushing his fingertips over her exposed hips before gently starting to push the hem up.

"Okay. I’m gonna take this now..."

When it's up her head and off her body, he can't help but caress the warm soft curve of her breast before reaching for the shirt he threw by his side. His hands work quickly in tugging it over her head until she's covered before settling her back down on the mattress.

"Um... Come to bed now." Her voice is soft, but he knows it’s not a request. It’s a demand, so he leans down, kissing her softly.

"Lemme drop this off, and I’ll be back." He muttered, grabbing back his Fresh Love shirt.

She hummed as he tucked the blanket around her again.

"Make you ten more shirts like this one, yeah, doll?" Chris rasps, nosing her soft cheeks before standing up.

When he walked back into the suite and tossed the shirt at Paula's feet, the boys turned their heads in unison, frowning in confusion. Chris was bare-chested, hair messy, grin permanently fixed to his face.

"M'heading to bed now." Chris muttered, grabbing his phone.

Nick raised a brow.

"What the fuck? Chris, we were just getting started."

"Nah, don't waste your time. Y/N for sure demanded him back to bed, and you know he never disagrees with her." Matt jokes, looking up from his phone.

Paula rolled her eyes, clearly beyond tired.

"I don’t get paid enough for this."

Chris was already halfway to the elevator again, waving lazily.

"Also, Paula?" He turns his head back, a boyish smile taking over his features. "Have m'team make me ten more of that shirt until the end of the tour."

© vanteguccir

[incendiobrock]

hawaii trip

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y/n.l/n posted just now

liked by matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, and 342k others

y/n.l/n wish i was back in hawaii playing mermaids with you 🐚

matthew.sturniolo kid done took all the shells

| y/n.l/n what can i say? i have a talent ☺️

| matthew.sturniolo is that what you like to call it??

nicolassturniolo i wanna play mermaids ☹️

| y/n.l/n i call the blue tail!!!

christophersturniolo where my beaches at? 😎

| y/n.l/n hmm i’m not shoreeee

| y/n.l/n SEA what i did there ?

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a/n: yeah i’ve decided i like these fake insta posts, they’re fun to make 🙂‍↕️

[incendiobrock]

i’m coming out as a hamzah girl

fanfic from the hot ones video when he’s showing around his house and then he accidentally walks in and readers asleep and martin’s filming like oh😅😅😅 whoops guys LMFAOAOA

࿔Hot Ones

Hamzah X Y/N (GN)

Fluff, SFW, Smooching, One-shot

“So, yeah. This is my lovely office.” Hamzah clasped his hands together and smiled at the camera, his voice full of mock pride.

Martin panned the shot, slowly revealing the full extent of the room. The cluttered desk, the half-filled water dispenser, the messy bed—but he suddenly stopped.

“Oh, and what is that?” Martin asked, shuffling closer to zoom in on the side of the bed.

Hamzah craned his neck to look over Martin’s shoulder, his face falling as the recorder’s screen framed a blue, square-shaped transparent wrapper sitting on the nightstand.

Instinctively Hamzah swung an arm out, shoving the camera away so hard it made a loud thud along with a slap on Martin’s hand.

“Ow, dude!” Martin whined, fumbling to keep hold of the camera as it nearly slipped from his grasp.

Hamzah’s face turned an alarming shade of red, his eyes refusing to meet Martin’s as he muttered, “Anyway, guys,” and quickly turned on his heel toward the gaming desk. “This is where I do a lot of my work.”

He kept his back to the camera, rambling about the standing desk and his computer, giving his cheeks a moment to return to their normal color.

“Guys, Hamzah was hiding—” Martin started, his teasing tone immediately ticking Hamzah off. “—a furry costume under the bed.” He finished, Hamzah’s widened stare stopping him in his tracks.

There was a beat of silence as Hamzah stared him down, his lips twitching as if he were trying to hold back a smile. Finally, he sighed dramatically and threw his hands up. “Alright, you got me,” he said, his tone suddenly over-the-top serious. “I guess the truth is out.”

Martin’s laughter escalated, and he zoomed in on Hamzah’s mock-defeated expression. “Yeah? What kind of furry are you, then?”

“A wolf, obviously.” Hamzah said, crossing his arms as he leaned against his desk. “Lead of the pack, they all follow me. It’s a lifestyle, not a choice.”

Martin nodded, the camera now drifting over to a collection of framed AI-generated art hung haphazardly on Hamzah’s wall.

-

“So, uh… is that it? Are we done with the tour?” Martin asked, raising a brow as Hamzah glanced around the room.

“Not yet!” Hamzah said, perking up as if struck by inspiration. “We still haven’t shown you the bedroom. Let’s go.”

The camera panned over the surprisingly clean room—a tidy desk in the corner, a mirror mounted neatly on the wall, and then…

“Oh!” Hamzah froze mid-step, his hand glued to the handle as his eyes landed on you, sprawled out on the bed. The blankets were tossed aside, and you were snuggled deep into his beloved Playboi Carti hoodie, the oversized fabric practically swallowing you as you slept peacefully.

Martin leaned behind Hamzah, while he lowered the camera. “Uh oh.” he whispered.

The creak of the door opening and Martin’s voice stirred you from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open groggily, your head lifting just enough to see the doorway—and the unmistakable sight of Martin holding a camera.

“Martin—?” you mumbled, still half-asleep as you scrambled to sit up from the compromising sleeping position you were in.

Martin mouthed a “Sorry” as he exited the room while Hamzah walked over, now standing beside you by the bed. His posture was stiff, as if bracing for the worst.

“I’m so sorry,” Hamzah started, his voice unusually quiet, his eyes darting over your body nervously. “We were filming and… I forgot you were asleep here.” He tugged at his beanie, his eyes filled with a worried, apologetic expression.

You wiped the sleep from your eyes with the long sleeve of the hoodie, trying to collect yourself. “It’s fine” you muttered, still half-dazed, your voice raspy from sleep.

As your vision cleared, you noticed something odd. A slight tinge of red lingered in Hamzah’s pupils, and his lips seemed oddly swollen and glossy. You furrowed your brows, leaning in closer to get a better look, and then instinctively reached out, grabbing his face to level with yours.

“What the hell happened?” you asked, a little alarmed, your voice a mixture of concern and confusion.

“What?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. He wiped his lips quickly, but it only made it worse. “No, it’s—uh, I’m fine.”

You furrowed your brows even more, a growing sense of worry creeping into your chest. “Hamzah, you look sick. What’s going on? Do I need to call somebody?”

Your head turned, frantically scanning the room as your heart raced to find your cellphone. You were already reaching for it, about to call someone, when you felt Hamzah’s hands gently hold your wrist, pulling you back to his side.

With his face still in your hands, Hamzah couldn’t help but smile, a flutter of warmth filling his chest as he saw the genuine worry etched on your face. “It’s the spicy wings, babe.” he said softly, his voice slightly strained as he cleared his voice.

Your face relaxed as an exasperated sigh escaped your lips. You took in Hamzah’s face once more, the swelling on his lips and the unshakable calmness in his demeanor finally making sense.

“We were doing Hot Ones.” he said, his voice still carrying a bit of a raspy edge as you gently brushed an imaginary piece of dust from his face.

“That means you’ve got more suffering to go through?” you whined, your shoulders dropping with disappointment.

“Not as much suffering as you put me through.” he teased, an exaggerated sarcasm in his voice. “This is what I get for marrying my ball and chain.”

Before you could throw him the usual annoyed look, he grinned and leaned in closer. You didn’t even have time to protest before his lips pressed softly against yours. The slight swell of his lips was tender against your own. The saliva that had gathered in Hamzah’s mouth from the spicy food mixed with yours, making the exchange even more slippery.

“Tell me when you’re done swapping spit!” Martin’s voice rang from the other room, making you both instinctively pull away, trying to hide your smiles. “We’ve got more wings to try.”

Hamzah scoffed, amused, before using his hands—resting on either side of you—to push himself up.

He murmured a soft “Love you” before walking out of the room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. You sat on the bed, the quiet stillness surrounding you. The only thing left of Hamzah was the lingering scent of his cologne that clung to his black hoodie.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the moment. You felt a slight sting on your tongue, a reminder of Hamzah’s spicy kiss still lingering in your mouth.

A/N: yaaaaaallll this was written in 2 hours, I had such a writer block in the beginning (what’s new?) but it didn’t turn out as bad as i thought. Hope you enjoyed 💙

[incendiobrock]

since chris has come out as an ass man i fear i need to know if anyone has put him on this song bc i think he would love it

[incendiobrock]

ohhh (yeah i need this)

٠ ࣪⭑ blood and kisses

warnings : mentions of weed and getting high. mention of bleeding. reader accidentally peeling her lip, making it bleed. make out. chris sucks on her lip as it’s bleeding. dealer!chris and soft!reader. nothing else (?).

it wasn’t often that you got high like this—the world feeling slow, warm and hazy. your limbs feeling as if their weighed down, but your mind is light.

the smoke filled the room, wrapping around you and chris in a thick blanket. chris didn’t let you smoke his stuff often, since it was such a strong strain and your tolerance being absolute shit.

but this was for you both to wind down—having such a long day and you just wanted to relax.

you hadn’t been paying attention for a while, your gaze staring at the tv as your back rested against the headboard of your bed. you weren’t really paying attention to the tv anyways, only hearing little words here and there.

you didn’t even realize that your teeth were digging into your bottom lip, pinching the skin and peeling it away until the sting hits—a sharp little pain that barely registers in your mind.

there’s the faint, metallic taste of blood, rich and warm that lands on your tongue as you poke it out to run over your lip. you pause, blinking lazily, and bringing your hand up—brushing your fingers over your lip.

chris notices immediately.

he’s been watching you—his eyes half-lidded and slow-moving as he tracks your every little movement to make sure you were doing okay. his hand moves before his words do, hand coming out to grip your face, fingers gripping your skin firmly, tilting your face toward him.

“the fuck are you doing?” he asks, brows furrowed as he studies your face more. his eyes flicking down to where your tongue poked out to swipe across your lip once more before moving back up to catch your eyes.

you don’t answer, just part your lips slightly, still tasting the coppery tang that was left behind. chris exhales through his nose, his thumb brushing against your jaw. his grip tightens just a little, just enough to send a slow shiver down your spine.

“you always do this,” he mutters, his eyes flicking down to your mouth again. he moves his thumb, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness there before pushing down slightly. you let out a soft wince at the feeling. “tearing yourself up without even realizing it.”

your breath stutters, and the fog in your mind thickens as you watch him, completely transfixed. his fingers press a little harder against your skin, keeping you still.

“does it hurt?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. you swallow, your throat dry, and shake your head. “not much.” chris hums, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he studies you more. then, before you can even register what’s happening, he leans in.

his lips presses to yours, slow and firm. he latches onto your bottom lip, sucking at the small wound, his tongue swiping over the sting. the sensation sends a sharp jolt through you—pain and pleasure mixing into something that makes your head spin even harder.

a quiet gasp slips from you, your fingers twitching where they rest against your lap. chris doesn’t let up. he deepens it, his mouth warm and insistent, his free hand moving to the side of your neck, his palm pressing against your throat like he’s holding you there, keeping you under his control.

the heat between you is suffocating. it settles deep in your belly, coils through your limbs, making you feel hot all over. when he finally pulls back, his lips are red—whether from you or the kiss, you’re not sure. his breathing is heavier, his pupils blown wide as he watches you.

“you like that,” he murmurs, thumb swiping over your swollen lip again, his voice lower than before. your body is thrumming, buzzing in a way that has nothing to do with the high. “so do you,” you whisper.

chris chuckles, “yeah. i do.”

and then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s only just realizing how much he really fucking likes it.

[incendiobrock]

valentine’s day hard launch

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y/n.l/n posted just now

liked by christophersturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, and 236k others

y/n.l/n sure, what the hell, valentine’s day hard launch. love you big time 💌

christophersturniolo love you sm baby

matthew.sturniolo oh you weren’t kidding -

| y/n.l/n hehe told you i would post it

nicolassturniolo aww the matching shoes

| y/n.l/n and he didn’t even want to get them smh

| christophersturniolo but i did anyways didn’t i??

| y/n.l/n only bc i begged

| christophersturniolo i mean… that’s not the first time

| y/n.l/n chris!!! gtfo my comments 💀

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this is my first time doing an instagram post thing, lmk if you want more!!!

ib: @colorthecosmos444 !! check out their post here ! ♥️