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sturnioloslut101 · 1 month ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTIKTOK TREND: CALLING MY BOYFRIEND'S BROTHERS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Matt do the TikTok trend 'calling my boyfriend's brothers to see if they would cover for him'.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

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.

"Okay, ready?" Matt asked, lifting his thumb above the screen as he hovered over the red circle inside the TikTok app.

They were both sat on her bed, Matt’s socked feet crossing over hers at the foot of the off-white comforter covered mattress, her shoulder leaning into his comfortably. The phone was perched at arm's length, front camera facing them, perfectly angled to catch both of their faces.

Y/N adjusted herself slightly so she was fully in the frame, brushing her hair behind her ear so her face was fully seen.

"Yeah." She nod. Matt tapped the screen, and a countdown blinked.

3... 2... 1...

As soon as the camera started recording, Y/N turned to it with an excited smile.

"Hi! So, I’m about to call Matt’s brothers, Chris and Nick, and pretend that Matt told me he was going to them a few hours ago. But he’s obviously right here, so we’re gonna see if they cover for him or not." She said rapidly, her words tumbling over each other.

Matt leaned into the frame with a nod.

"Try Chris first." He said, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Y/N turned her head to give him a raised eyebrow. She held the expression for the camera, too, before letting a crooked smile slip as she looked down at her own phone, her fingers already scrolling her favorites list.

"Alright." She muttered, finding Chris’s contact and selecting it. She pressed the speaker and quickly moved her phone closer to Matt’s so his phone could catch all the audio.

The dial tone filled the room, ringing for some seconds.

Matt tilted his head, whispering.

"He’s not gonna answer. Watch. I bet he’s like passed out or somethi-"

But before he could finish that sentence, the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" Chris’s voice came through, slightly raspy like he had indeed just woken up.

Matt’s lips snapped shut. He stared at her phone, frozen.

Y/N’s voice was suddenly sugar-sweet.

"Hey, it’s Y/N."

"Yeah, I know it’s you." Chris replied instantly, with the most guy best friend-coded dry tone ever. "What do you want?"

Y/N’s shoulders shook with a held-in laugh.

"Matt left my place a few hours ago, said he was going back home, but he’s not picking up his phone, so I just wanted to check..." She started, trying to keep her voice casual. "Is he there?"

The other end of the line went quiet.

Matt leaned forward like he was about to climb through the speaker. His eyebrows raised as the silence dragged.

"He said he was coming home?"

Y/N widened her eyes at Matt, giving a subtle nod to her phone.

"Yeah. Like two hours ago."

"Oh... yeah." Chris said, and Y/N's mouth dropped open. "Yeah, he is. He got here like a little while ago. We were actually thinking of streaming soon."

Matt whipped his head to look at Y/N, then to her phone, then back to her. He looked surprised that Chris would actually cover for him but was afraid of Y/N's reaction at the same time.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Oh, okay, cool. Could you pass him the phone real quick? I just need to talk to him for a sec."

There was a beat.

"Uhh... I think he’s sleeping." Chris said, voice feigning uncertainty. "He just went to his room."

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line, his whole body trembling as he tried not to burst into laughter. His knees came up instinctively, curling in as he looked at Y/N.

Chris was a terrible liar.

How could they be planning to stream if he 'just went to his room'?

Y/N tilted her head at the phone.

"Oh. Hm. Could you wake him up? It’s kind of important."

Another pause.

She raised her brows and slowly turned her head to Matt with eyes that screamed 'he’s about to give up'. But instead, Chris's voice returned, smooth as butter.

"Yeah, hold on. I can do that. Gimme a sec."

The faint sound of rustling blankets and a bed creaking came through the speaker, as if Chris had actually gotten up.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders bouncing as he laughed into his hand, trying desperately not to let a sound, the phone in his hand shaking with his movements.

Y/N looked at the camera, then back at her phone when more sounds kept echoing from it.

Thump.

Rustle.

Creak.

The sound of a bedroom door opening. Then faint, echoing footsteps down a hallway.

Thump-thump.

Thump.

Stairs?

"No way." Y/N whispered, jaw slowly dropping. Her hand hovered over her mouth, eyes wide in absolute disbelief as her phone blared the unmistakable sound of Chris stomping upstairs. "There’s no way he’s actually going to your room."

Matt was frozen next to her, frowning while trying to control his breathing from his laughter.

Then, click.

A door opened.

And a light switch flicked.

Y/N let out a little gasp, turning to Matt, mouth half-open in shock.

"Did he just-?"

Matt’s eyes traveled to her from her phone screen.

"I think so."

And then, Chris’s voice came through again. Muffled at first, like he was calling into the void.

"Matt? Matt!"

Y/N’s hand flew to her screen, muting her side of the call so fast it nearly slipped from her grip.

"Oh my god." She blurted out in a loud laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He’s actually trying to wake you up."

Matt, beside her, laughed just as hard, shaking his head in disbelief, his phone wobbling in his hand as it continued to record.

Chris didn’t stop.

"Matt, wake up."

"Wake the fuck up, Matt."

"C’mon, dude. Your girl wants to talk to you."

Y/N slapped a hand over her face, muffling her laughter against her palm so it wouldn't disturb the call audio. Matt leaned his head back, lips trembling, hand on his stomach like he was in physical pain.

"Thank you for muting it." Matt muttered, so only Y/N could hear him. "I would’ve choked if I had to hold back any longer."

Y/N’s nodded, silent tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She was trying so hard to be respectful of the bit, but it was a losing battle.

And then Chris’s voice echoed louder, like he was back to talking to Y/N - and not "Matt" -, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Y/N, I don’t know what you gave to him." He said in complete deadpan. "But he won't wake up for anything. You put him in a coma or something."

Y/N took a deep breath, biting her lip so hard it actually hurt. She unmuted her phone with a shaky thumb, still snorting between breaths.

"He isn’t waking up?" She asked, voice cracking with the effort to sound normal.

Chris didn’t even hesitate.

"No. I literally shook him. I yelled in his ear. He didn’t even move. I’m not even sure he’s breathing, bro."

Matt, curled up beside her, let out a strangled squeak as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, laughing so hard but still trying to keep it quiet.

Y/N’s lip wobbled from trying to suppress a smile.

"Alright, well- uh... can you tell him to call me when he wakes up?"

"Yeah, yeah." Chris said like he was already on his way back downstairs. "I’ll try again in a few, or I’ll text you. He’s probably just dead tired. I gotchu."

"Thanks, Chris." Y/N managed to say through clenched teeth.

"Mhmm. Talk soon."

Click.

Y/N dropped the phone onto the bed like it had burned her. She didn’t even have time to recover before Matt’s phone started vibrating in his hand while it was still recording.

Chris.

Y/N and Matt made eye contact, stunned for half a second before the hysterical laughter burst out of both of them simultaneously.

"He's calling me." Matt said to the camera, voice raspy from laughing too hard.

Y/N leaned closer to Matt, cheeks still warm from all the laughter, her voice slightly breathless as she spoke directly into the front lens.

"Alright. Time for Nick. But I’m gonna switch it up a bit ‘cause he’s at the Space Camp office today for some meetings, so if I say you were supposed to meet him there, he won’t be as suspicious."

Matt, leaning back on one elbow with a squint in his eye, let out a low hum.

"Bold of you to assume Nick’s gonna cover for me. You know we’re not the glue here."

Y/N gave him an innocent glance.

"What do you mean?"

He smirked and gestured vaguely at her face.

"You and Nick are like, glued together. He’s obsessed with you. He’s gonna throw me under the bus faster than you can say lip balm."

Y/N dramatically rolled her eyes.

"You’re just scared."

Matt made a pfft sound.

"Yeah, right."

With that, Y/N pulled her phone back up, scrolling through her contacts until Nick’s name popped up, paired with about seven different sparkly emojis and a shooting star. She grinned, tapped 'call', set it on speaker, and moved her phone next to Matt’s again.

It didn’t even ring twice.

"Hey, queen!" Nick’s voice chirped through the speaker, a little too loud and echoey from what was clearly a busy office.

You could faintly hear a door closing, chairs scraping, and someone saying 'That’s not the right shade for the summer launch' in the background.

Y/N’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Nick! Hi!"

Matt groaned and covered his face with his free hand. Y/N slapped his thigh to shut him up, trying not to laugh.

"Um, I’m so sorry to bother you at office day." She continued, letting her voice take on the sweet, clueless tone. "But Matt left my apartment a few hours ago and said he was coming to your office? To help out with the Space Camp shoot or something? He’s not answering his phone, and I was just wondering if he made it to you okay."

There was silence on the line.

Y/N’s smile grew slow and devilish as she waited.

"... He said he was coming here?" Nick asked, his tone completely suspicious, laced with genuine confusion.

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line. Nick would kill him.

Y/N nodded.

"Yeah." She replied sweetly. "He said he was gonna help you take some pictures?"

There was another half-second pause.

"That little bitch."

Y/N choked, slapping her free hand over her mouth so fast she nearly knocked her phone off the bed. Her shoulders shook violently as she turned wide eyes on Matt, who looked deeply offended.

"I told you!" Matt mouthed, pointing at her with a betrayed look.

Nick continued, completely unaware of the chaos he’d caused on the other end of the line.

"No. No, queen. He did not come here. He never told me he was coming here. I even asked him this morning if he could pick me up after the shoot, and he had the audacity to say no because he was spending the day at your place." He sounded like he was pacing now.

Matt’s hand was now covering both his eyes, shaking his head.

Y/N slowly lowered her own hand, trying to breathe.

"Wait... so he’s not there?"

"No!" Nick practically yelled. "He hasn’t even stepped foot into this building today. This man lied to your face. He betrayed my trust. And he skipped being my chauffeur."

Y/N sent a pointed look to Matt. She always told him to pick Nick up if he asked for it, or at least make Chris do it.

Matt squinted at her, whispering as lowly as possible so Nick wouldn't hear.

"Don’t you dare side with him. He called me a bitch."

Nick continued on the other side of the phone.

"Did you try calling Chris? Maybe Matt went home. You didn’t check with him?"

Y/N let out the most exaggerated sigh, forcing her brows to furrow and her voice to drop.

"No... no, I haven’t. I-I just figured if he said he was with you, then..."

Matt raised his eyebrows at her acting, but she waved him off.

"Oh, sweetheart." Nick said gently, his entire tone doing a 180. You could hear the pout forming on his lips. "Hey. Listen to me. I’ll try calling him, okay? Both Matt and Chris. I swear, if that little fucker is playing hide and seak, I’ll find him. But I promise you he wouldn’t do anything wrong."

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile and nodded seriously like she was actually worried Matt had evaporated into thin air.

"Okay. Please, just let me know as soon as you find out anything?"

"Of course." Nick replied immediately. "I’ll call you the second I get anything. And if he doesn’t pick up my calls, I’m going to kill him myself."

Matt raised an unimpressed brow and muttered a low 'Charming', rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head.

Y/N beamed.

"Thanks, Nick. Oh, and when the shoot’s done, lemme know, and I’ll come get you, okay?"

Nick gasped dramatically.

"You’re the best. See, Matt could never. Love you, queen."

"Love you more." Y/N chimed before tapping the screen to end the call.

As soon as the line disconnected, she turned slowly to Matt with a look that could only be described as smug. Chin high, eyes gleaming, she crossed her arms and tilted her head.

"Nick passed." She announced. "He would never lie to me. Not even to save your sorry little ass."

Matt raised both brows in surrender and shrugged, looking toward his still-recording phone.

"I told you he wouldn’t cover for me. That man would rat me out to the FBI if it meant you’d still do his nails next week."

Y/N smirked, reaching over to grab one of her throw pillows and hugging it to her chest, feeling victorious.

"And for the record, yeah, Nick really would beat the shit outta me if I ghosted you for two hours-"

His words were interrupted by a soft chime echoing from Matt’s phone. At the top of the screen, a message banner rolled in from their shared triplet group chat.

Nick:

@Matt WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Y/N froze.

Matt blinked once, twice, then turned slowly toward Y/N.

"Well, he said he would chase you down, so..." Y/N shrugged, smiling.

RING RING.

The phone echoed into a vibrating buzzing. It was Nick. Calling Matt. Y/N’s phone started ringing two seconds later, and Y/N's eyes were quick to meet the caller ID, Chris. Now he wanted answers, too.

Matt stared at the double call screens with dead eyes.

"I have never regretted anything faster in my life."

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sturnioloslut101 · 1 month ago

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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."

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sturnioloslut101 · 1 month ago

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should have a man whimpering and groaning right now as he stutters over his words as i jerk him off but i don't! evil sick world we live in

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sturnioloslut101 · 2 months ago

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he’s so handsome hot beautiful basically all of the above

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nate doe

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sturnioloslut101 · 2 months ago

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The way Chris bends down more just so he can rest his head on her shoulder.

I notice they all do that little hand pat on the back when they hug someone

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sturnioloslut101 · 2 months ago

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Sending foul, disgusting anons really does not benefit anyone. You never know what someone’s last straw is. Be kind or be run over by a semi truck.

I’ve seen too many people receive horrible things today and I don’t fuck with that one bit. I suggest turning off anons for a bit, spreading the word, and making sure everyone is aware and safe of the current situation.

Pls spread the word! Reblog, comment, tag, make your own post, anything!!!

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sturnioloslut101 · 2 months ago

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this is so cute omg

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ EEYORE!MATT DRABBLE ... ( 𝒊 )

SUMMARY ˙ ♱◞ matt, self-conscious about his softened stomach after seeing old photos, is comforted during a winnie the pooh marathon. ──── y/n kisses his belly, declaring her love for every part of him, easing his doubts with tender affection, leaving him feeling cherished and whole.

𝖥𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 matt sturniolo x fem reader ⋅ 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳 1.245 words ⋅ 𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖲 a self-conscious matt, body positivity, emotional comfort, slice of live, fluff ⋅ TAGLIST REQUESTS

ㅤ⊂⊃ ( mak.says ) ﹐⇅ read warnings before proceeding! and remember, you're beautiful inside and out, no matter the circumstances. speak up. be kind. set boundaries and be true to yourself. also, please take a look to this fic by @oopsiedaisydeer , who had the idea first <3

the living room was a cozy haven, late afternoon sun filtering through the blinds, casting warm stripes across the place.

matt, bundled in a soft gray hoodie, was sprawled on the couch, his head resting on y/n’s lap as the familiar hum of a winnie the pooh movie played on the tv. the screen glowed with the hundred acre wood, eeyore’s droopy voice muttering something about lost tails, and matt’s lips twitched into a small smile; eeyore was his favorite—always had been, with his quiet gloom and unexpected warmth—and y/n, knowing he’d been off lately, had insisted on a marathon to cheer him up.

matt had been quieter than usual the past few days, his usual spark dimmed.

it started after a late-night scroll through old photos and videos from when he was nineteen, his early youtube days with nick and chris. he’d been skinnier then, all sharp angles and bony elbows, his frame leaner in a way that felt like a ghost of himself.

now, at twenty-one, he wasn’t that kid anymore; he wasn’t overweight, not by a long shot, but his body had softened, his stomach no longer flat and taut but gently rounded, a subtle curve he couldn’t stop fixating on. he’d caught himself staring in the mirror, tugging at his shirts, feeling a pang of self-consciousness that gnawed at him. he wasn’t ripped like the guys on social media, wasn’t bony like he used to be—just… normal, and it was messing with his head.

y/n had noticed, of course, she always did, picking up on the way he’d been avoiding tight shirts, the way his laughs were quieter, his hugs a little less open, so she’d planned this day—winnie the Pooh, takeout pizza, and a pile of blankets—to spoil him, to remind him he was her favorite person, no matter what.

they were halfway through the tigger movie, the couch a mess of popcorn kernels and crumpled napkins, when y/n started tickling matt’s sides, her fingers dancing under his hoodie.

“gotcha!” she teased, her laugh bright as he squirmed, his own laughter bubbling up despite himself.

“y/n, stop!” he gasped, half-laughing, half-pleading, twisting to escape her.

his hoodie rode up in the struggle, exposing a sliver of his stomach, and he froze, his laughter cutting off like a switch. his hand shot down to tug the fabric back, his face flushing, a flicker of insecurity crossing his eyes. he sat up, pulling his knees to his chest, his smile gone.

y/n’s hands stilled, her brow furrowing. “hey,” she said softly, scooting closer, her voice gentle but firm. “what’s wrong, matt?”

he shrugged, avoiding her eyes, his fingers fidgeting with the hoodie’s drawstrings. “nothing,” he mumbled, but his voice was tight, unconvincing. “just… don’t do that, okay?”

“do what?” she asked, her hand resting on his knee, her touch warm and grounding. “tickle you? or…” she hesitated, reading his face, the way he curled into himself. “is this about your shirt coming up?”

matt’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his cheeks burning. “it’s stupid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i don’t look like i used to. my stomach’s not… i dunno, it’s not flat anymore. i saw those old videos, and i was so skinny, and now i’m just…” he trailed off, his shoulders slumping, the words too heavy to finish.

y/n’s heart cracked, a tender ache spreading through her. she shifted closer, her hand sliding up to cup his face, turning him gently to meet her eyes. “matt,” she said, her voice soft but fierce, “you’re perfect. every single part of you. i hate that you’re feeling this way, but i need you to hear me: you’re beautiful, exactly as you are.”

he shook his head, a small, self-deprecating laugh escaping. “i’m not, y/n. i’m not ripped or skinny or whatever. i’ve got this dumb belly, and—”

“stop,” she said, her tone sharp enough to make him pause, but her eyes were all love, all warmth. she moved to kneel in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs. “can i show you something?”

he blinked, uncertain, but nodded, his hands still clutching his hoodie. y/n smiled, soft and reassuring, and tugged gently at the hem of his shirt. “trust me?” she asked, waiting for his okay.

matt hesitated, then nodded again, his breath hitching as she lifted his hoodie, exposing the soft curve of his stomach. he tensed, his instinct to cover up screaming, but before he could, y/n leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his skin, right above his navel. it was feather-light, reverent, and matt’s breath caught, his eyes widening.

“y/n…” he started, his voice shaky, but she shushed him, her lips brushing another kiss, then another, across the warmth of his stomach.

“i love this,” she said between kisses, her voice a quiet vow. “i love your tummy, matt. it’s perfect because it’s you. it’s where you carry all the pizza we eat, all the laughs we share, all the times you’ve held me close.” she looked up, her eyes shining with sincerity. “you don’t need to be skinny or ripped or anything else. you’re you, and i love every inch.”

matt’s eyes glistened, a tear slipping down his cheek as her words sank in. he’d spent days spiraling, picking himself apart, but here she was, kissing the part he hated most, loving it without hesitation. “you mean that?” he asked, his voice small, vulnerable.

“every word,” she said, climbing back onto the couch to straddle his lap, her hands framing his face. she kissed his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, each one a promise. “your tummy’s my favorite. it’s soft and warm and so you. i’d pick it over any six-pack any day.”

he laughed, a choked, watery sound, and pulled her closer, burying his face in her shoulder. “you’re ridiculous,” he mumbled, but his arms tightened around her, his heart lighter than it had been in days.

“i’m right,” she countered, nuzzling his hair. she slid her hands under his hoodie again, her fingers tracing gentle patterns across his stomach, not teasing now, just loving. “you’re my eeyore, matt. a little gloomy sometimes, but so lovable, so perfect just the way you are.”

he pulled back, his eyes searching hers, and saw nothing but truth, nothing but love. the self-consciousness that had haunted him didn’t vanish, but it felt smaller, less sharp, softened by her touch, her words. “i love you,” he said, his voice thick, his hands finding hers, intertwining their fingers.

“i love you, too,” she said, kissing him softly, lingering just long enough to make his heart flutter. she settled beside him, pulling him down so they were tangled together, the movie still playing, eeyore’s voice a comforting drone. she kept one hand under his hoodie, resting on his stomach, her thumb brushing slow, soothing circles.

matt let out a shaky breath, his head on her chest, her heartbeat steady beneath him. for the first time in days, he felt whole, loved in a way that reached past his doubts and settled deep in his bones.

y/n’s love was a blanket, warm and safe, and as they watched pooh and friends bumble through the hundred acre wood, matt knew he’d be okay, because she loved every part of him, especially the parts he couldn’t.

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