Before you were their friend, you were a fan. You knew about the edits, the fanfic, the places on the internet where no one would reasonably think one of their friends would be.

What kind of ‘friend’ watches that kind of edit? What kind of ‘friend’ reads smut? A perverted one. Of that, you were certain.

You knew it was messed up to lay in the bed of their guest room, knuckles between your teeth, watching an edit with the sound so low you can barely hear the audio. You knew the way your stomach flipped was something to be embarrassed of... but they didn’t have to know.

There was no reason you couldn’t ‘accidentally stumble across’ a few edits, like them from your secret fan account, and move along with your life. There was no reason you couldn’t hang out with them like nothing was out of the ordinary. Like you didn’t have the most massive, embarrassing crush on one of your best friends.

Of course, you may have made a mistake when Nick asked you your thoughts on making another “reacting to edits” video and you immediately told him you could ‘find’ some for them. It might have also been a mistake to send Nick the most out of pocket, absolutely diabolical edits you had in your collection. In your defense, it made great content.

The real problem came when fans noticed the way you blushed slightly during filming. As usual, the fans decided to take things way too far, coming up with all these theories about how you were “hardcore crushing on Matt” and “already had these edits saved.”

Fuck, they were observant.

Regardless, it hadn’t mattered too much to any of you. People were always going to speculate, and most of the time you honestly found it funny.

Which leads you to now. You phone face down on the bed, your eyes wide and face a shameful shade of red as Matt stands in front of you. He had knocked, but hadn’t given much thought to the fact that you could have been changing or something. He had just turned the knob and cracked the door slightly, causing your phone to flip a little too quickly.

He raised an eyebrow at your flustered state.

“Didn’t mean to… interrupt anything,” he said, fighting the small smirk that was pulling at his mouth. “Nick and Chris wanted us to know that they’re gonna be a couple more hours at the party, but they wanna know if they should grab us something for dinner.”

You laugh nervously, internally kicking yourself since he hadn’t made any sort of joke.

“I, uh— Yeah… Or, I mean— No, that’s okay. Tell them I’m making dinner. They don’t have to worry about it.”

Pull yourself together, stupid bitch.

He only grinned softly.

“That’s sweet of you,” he said, coming to stand at the side of your bed. “You sure you’re not too busy sexting whoever the fuck you’re talking to?”

Your brows furrowed and your mouth twisted slightly.

“What? Ew, no, I’m not…” you sat up, pushing your hair out of your face. “It’s not like that. Like, at all. I’m not talking to anyone.”

“Oh yeah? What were you doing then?”

God, his stupid smirk was intoxicating.

“I’m not… doing anything.”

You really gotta learn to lie better.

“Hey, nothin’ to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Whoever you’re texting, that’s your business.”

Fuck him and his ridiculous fucking pet name that made your brain buzz.

“Matt, I’m not texting anyone.” Your voice comes out slightly frustrated, more insistent than before.

“Okay, alright… so what? You were watching edits on your secret account or something?” he laughs, clearly not taking the idea seriously.

Your face burns red. You should laugh, too. You should shake your head or roll your eyes or tell him it came up on its own. Something. Anything.

But instead, you just sit there, a deep shade of embarrassment creeping up your neck and into your face, blooming crimson.

His smile fades as he sees your expression.

“Lemme see.”

Your eyes dart to the side, but for some godforsaken reason, you hold out your phone to him. He takes it, fingers brushing yours as he notices the slight tremble in them.

An anxious feeling starts to build in your chest. He’s gonna hate you. He’ll tell his brothers. They’re all gonna hate you. Your heart pounds violently against your sternum.

“What’s your password, baby?”

You almost cried at the nickname. You felt shame well up behind your eyes, threatening tears.

Don’t you fucking dare cry. You can still play this off if you pull it together.

Still, though, you lifted your hand when he turned the phone around. You typed in the password like writing your last will and testament.

The minute the phone opened, you couldn’t help a small laugh escaping you at the ludicrous audio. Especially when he smirked and turned it up.

What an asshole.

You watched his eyes change, widening slightly at the mix of the suggestive clips with the downright lewd audio.

He chuckled at the edit, noticing the fact that you had already liked it. You felt like such a pervert.

“I think this one’s worse the ones you showed us last week. Something you wanna tell me?”

Your eyes watered again, wide and terrified as you shook your head.

“Hey, come on. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

You let out a shaky laugh.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m…” your voice trails off.

“{y/n}, no. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’m not mad, okay? You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You wanted to believe him… god, you did. But the heat in your face and lump in your throat made it nearly impossible.

You were trying to form a response, some tragic attempt to save your dignity, but then you felt a warm hand cupping your jaw, tilting your face up.

“Will you look at me, please?” his voice was tender but raw.

You meet his eyes, your jaw tightening as humiliation twisted into anger.

“Look, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry—”

“I’m fine, Matt,” you snap, harsher than you would have liked to. “I’m not fucking crying.”

“{y/n}, I didn’t—”

“Oh my god. Fuck off, will you?” His hand retreats as you pull away. “I’m not a child, and I’m not some girl who’s obsessed with you, alright?”

His eyes darken at your tone. This time, his hand comes up more firmly, your face held between his finger and thumb.

“You wanna try that again?”

Your face burns hotter, the gentleness in his voice still lingering, but no longer without an edge you had only heard from him vaguely with his brothers.

“You’re not gonna snap at me just because you’re embarrassed. How about you fucking talk to me instead of assuming shit, alright?”

That was all it took. Your lip quivers and tears spill out of your eyes, slipping quickly down your cheeks. You sniffle, trying to blubber out an apology before he stops you.

“I don’t want a ‘sorry,’ I want you to be honest about what you’re feeling.”

“I-I…”

“Say ‘Matt, I’m embarrassed.’ You can do it, honey, I know you can.”

You whimper slightly, utterly humiliated.

“Matt, I’m embarrassed…”

He releases your face, his hand moving to slide his fingers through your hair.

“I know, baby,” he coos, his thumb wiping away a tear. “I’m proud of you for telling me.”

God, this is the most shameful moment of your life, and the warmth between your legs only makes it worse.

He crouches down, meeting your eyes again and guiding your hand to his chest.

“Breathe with me.”

He guides you through a few slow breaths, your body starting to regulate itself.

“Good girl…”

Your thighs press together at that. God, what the fuck was wrong with you? You swallow hard, trying to get ahold of yourself yet again.

His eyes flicker down for a fraction of a second, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Talk to me,” he says casually, as if every part of this was normal.

“I don’t know what came over me. I just… fuck, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was embarrassed and I don’t even know why.”

That part was a lie and you both knew it, but he said nothing, waiting for you to keep talking.

“I was worried you’d… think I have some kind of crush on you or something, and I just—”

“I know, baby.” He brings your hand up from his chest to his face, pressing his cheek into your palm. You feel the scruff of his stubble as he turns his head just enough to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You sniffle, your face still warm as your brain struggles to form a next thought, caught up entirely in the action.

“Matt…”

“You’re allowed to have a crush on me, baby.”

Your face burns even hotter, and you force out a nervous laugh.

“Don’t… say things like that, Matt, that’s not fair.”

His thumb glides over your knuckles, his eyes never leaving your face.

“How is that not fair?” He asks softly, his voice sounding lighter now, almost playful.

You turn back to see the grin on his face, and you can’t help the shy smile that appears on your own.

“Fuck you…” you mumble.

“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. His eyes sparkled in a way that made your chest ache, the sight almost unbearable.

God, you loved that fucking smirk.

“So you like me, huh? For how long?”

You wanted to bury your face in his chest, especially when he sat up and leaned closer.

“Come on, baby. Use your words.”

The blush you had worked so hard to get rid of came back in an instant.

“Matt…” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, your thighs pressed tightly together.

His eyes softened, his hands coming up to gently pry yours away from your face.

“Look, I like you, too, alright? Talk to me.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, searching his every expression for some hint of a joke or a lie.

“You do?”

“So you do like me…”

You smack his chest and he laughs, catching your hands.

“I’ll have you know,” he tilts his head teasingly, “that I actually do happen to like you, too, so quit being a baby about it and fess up.”

You give up on your useless attempts to suppress a smile. You laugh softly, and he laughs, too, climbing up onto the bed and sitting beside you.

“I knew it!”

“Okay, okay! Fucking… fine. Yes, I like you. There. Happy now, asshole?”

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug, practically tackling you onto the bed before getting up.

“Since when?”

“Since… before we met?” You admit quietly. “Obviously I knew who you were, and… I mean, obviously I was already kinda a fan.”

“Oh, so you were a Matt girl, huh?”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Actually, I started out as a Chris girl, thank you very much.”

He raises an eyebrow, amusement and jealousy swirling in his eyes as he tries to figure out if you’re joking or not, but you give nothing away.

“You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?”

You chuckle, shoving his shoulder slightly as he leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours in a way that feels more childish than tender.

Your hand finds his shoulder and you blush as his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“Matt…”

“What, you’re about to tell me not to ruin the friendship?”

You’re silent for a moment. You know you should pause. You know what getting involved with him could mean for your friendship with him and his brothers. You know what it could mean for your career.

You also know how the heat radiating off his body feels, and how his hands feel around your waist.

“Matt…”

He doesn’t push closer, his eyes watching your expression for any discomfort.

“Is this… okay?” His voice is softer, now.

All you can manage is a nod, your gaze softening.

“Can I…” the faintest blush appears on his cheeks, as if he’s suddenly shy about the circumstances.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your smile widens, the crinkles around your eyes showing.

“Yes… please.”

His brows knit together, and he looks cocky and broken all at once. “Please?”

You nod, knowing in any other moment you would have been embarrassed by it.

“Please, Matt.”

He sighs, his eyes fluttering closed. He leaned closer, his nose brushing yours and his lips just centimeters from your mouth. His accent was evident, utterly Bostonian, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“You don’t gotta beg, baby.”

He kissed you. His lips pressed against yours, steady and certain, and you felt the tension in your body melt.

When he finally pulled away, there was a smile still lingering on his face.

“You wanna show me what you were watching again, sweetheart?”

“Not really,” you laugh softly, blushing.

“Aw, come on, baby. I’m just curious…”

You sigh, rolling your eyes playfully as you pull up the video again. He stands and runs a hand through your hair, keeping the screen in front of your face when you try to turn in towards him.

“I changed my mind,” he says softly. “You watch the screen while I watch your pretty face, mkay?”

You nod and let the video play. It makes your face turn red, but you swipe to the next one, knowing it could be just as filthy.

You blush harder and bite your lip, and Matt’s hand moves to cup your cheek. You release your bottom lip from your teeth, and nod thumb moves to glide across it, so spreading your spit like a gloss.

“Atta girl, baby… Just keep those pretty eyes on the screen. Such a dirty fucking mind, huh?”

You whine and nod, brows knit.

“Mhm…”

You’re not even really paying attention to the edits anymore, instead set on getting the ache between your legs to subside.

“You want something to suck on, angel?”

Your eyes widen slightly and snap up to him, a hint of worry in your expression. As hot as Matt was, sucking dick had never really been your thing. Typically, you kinda hated it.

“I-I, um…”

“Woah, hey, no big deal. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, baby. We can take things slow.”

Your face burned hot, but you were relieved he wasn’t asking for anything you weren’t ready for.

“You… Were you gonna ask me to…?” your voice trailed off.

“I was gonna ask how you’d feel about me putting my fingers in your mouth.”

A faint pink dust settles on his cheeks, and your eyes light up slightly.

“Oh, your fingers? I thought…” You stopped the train of thought. “Yes please, actually.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you insist. “I don’t really like giving head, but as long as I’m not choking on your fingers, I’d… really like having them in my mouth.”

Your voice got quiet at the end, but you forced yourself to finish the thought.

He raised an eyebrow. “Head? {y/n}, I hope you know I’m not the kind of guy to ask for you to suck me off with at least a little foreplay, first.”

You laughed softly, despite knowing it wasn’t a joke. He leans down and presses a kiss between your eyes, his thumb returning to where it belonged on your lip.

“Open for me, sweetheart.”

You comply without a second thought. He pulls your bottom lip down and slides two fingers into your mouth. They trail back slowly, stopping when your throat threatens to close up and pulling back just an inch.

“Suck,” he murmured, his eyes dark and locked onto your mouth.

Once again, you do what he says. For a moment, you take a mental check of how your body feels, and realize that for the first time, your body feels truly at ease in this scenario. Your heart was beating steady, but you weren’t in fight or flight. You weren’t shaky or hazy, just warm and happy with your mouth filled. He wasn’t pushing in to watch you choke or focused solely on getting his cock into your mouth.

He was watching you warmly, his eyes soft and adoring, brows pinched as his other hand brushed your hair back.

“You’re so pretty f’me, angel.”

Your heart rate picked up slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips around his fingers. He wasn’t waiting for a show, wasn’t hoping you’d whine or moan like something out of a porno.

“You like this?”

You nodded, no longer minding the way your cheeks heated up.

“You better not keep looking at me like that,” he grinned softly. “I might start getting other ideas.”

You took your mouth off his fingers and he removed them, wiping the spit onto his jeans like it didn’t bother him.

“Ideas like what?” you smiled shyly, propping yourself up on your hands behind you.

His eyes trailed over you, burning with desire and caution all at once.

“You said you’re not interested in giving head, and that’s fine by me, but…” he rubs the back of his neck. “Was that action specific, or are you just wanting to take things slow in general?”

You smirked slightly, unable to help a small laugh.

“Are you asking to fuck me or something?”

“Would you… let me?”

His response came out quickly and made you raise your eyebrows. You couldn’t deny that you wanted him to. Actually, it was more than that. You didn’t just want him to fuck you.

You wanted Matt to make love to you. You wanted a slow descent, warm and gentle. You wanted tenderness and care and patience. You wanted to feel loved, even if the word would never leave your lips. You wanted him to hold you.

“I would,” you said softly, like it was a casual admission. “Only if you promised to be patient with me, though. It’s been a while, and I…I want it to be more than a quick fuck.”

His expression shifted into something tender and wild all at once as he crawled over you onto the bed, kissing up your jaw with a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah? You wanna be more than just my fucktoy for the night, angel?”

You blushed hard, not used to hearing him talk like that.

“M-Matt…”

“Relax, needy, I’m not interested in a one-night, either. I want you, okay? You’re my best friend, and I’m not fucking around with this one.”

His forehead met yours again, but this time it is tender, his hand finding your side.

“And between you and me, I’m not sure ‘girlfriend’ is enough, but it seems like a pretty good fucking place to start, if you’ll let me.”

Your eyes widened, the warmth in your chest spreading like a wildfire.

“You… want me to be your girlfriend.”

“For now,” he mumbled, eyes darting over your features. “Then maybe in a couple years you’ll let me put a ring on it?”

You blushed furiously and laughed, shaking your eyes in disbelief.

“Matt…”

“I mean it!”

“Save the crazy talk for after you’ve fucked me, okay?” He grinned at that.

“Why, so you can have something to blame it on besides the fact that you’re my best friend and I’m not losing you?”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closed.

“Hey, look at me.”

You opened your eyes and he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Tell me you want it. Not just the sex. Tell me you want the late nights, and the laughing about nothing, and the arguing over stupid shit and making up for it later, and the dates, and the stupid fucking fans not minding their goddamn business.”

Your eyes softened and you open your mouthed to speak, but he started talking again.

“Tell me you want every fucking thing I have to offer you, even though it’s not much and some of it is shitty.”

You didn’t hesitate this time.

“Matt, I want it. I want all of it.”

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, more hungry than he had before. You hummed against his mouth as his tongue glided across your bottom lip and you let your jaw slack, letting his tongue in.

He kissed you senseless, until your hips were mindlessly grinding against his thigh.

“Fuck, baby, you need something?”

You nodded furiously, your hands trailing down to his belt buckle. He chuckled and caught your hands gently.

“You do know we still have a few hours before Nick and Chris get home, right? If that’s all you wanting, that’s fine, but if you’re okay with being patient for me…” His eyes trailed down to where your thighs were squeezing his.

Can I eat you out?” His voice came out husky, eyes dark as they found yours again.

Your breath hitched but you nodded.

“Words, baby,” he mumbled, his hand already sliding down to grip your thigh.

“Yes,” you practically breathed.

He kissed down your neck and along your collarbone before moving down and undoing your jeans.

“You tell me if you need to stop, okay? Any time, any reason, you just let me know.”

You nodded again but quickly remembered his words.

“I will.”

“Good girl,” he kissed your stomach where your shirt had hitched up just a sliver. He slid down your jeans, carefully pulling them all the way off before running his hands up your thighs.

He pressed a kiss to your clothed cunt and it made your hips squirm slightly. He chuckled, bringing his thumb up to tease you as he spoke.

“Sensitive, huh? You need it that bad?”

“Shut up…”

He smirked, looking a little smug.

“I’m sorry, who’s running this shit, baby?”

You smirked right back, giving a casual shrug.

“You’re the one who asked for this. It’s my pussy, remember?”

He grunted at the vulgar word dripping from your tongue like honey.

“As if I could fucking forget. You have any idea what you do to me, sweetheart?”

“Show me.”

He groaned, pressing his open mouth to your panties, his fingers slipping under the seems before he quickly tugged them off and discarded them.

He licked at your folds and sucker at your clit, spurred on by the small whimpers leaving your throat and the way your hips twitched.

“M-Matt…”

“You’re okay, baby. Just enjoy it. Don’t worry about sounding pretty for me, just let yourself feel it and cum when you need to. I could lay here all fucking night.”

You weren’t sure how long it actually was, though you were certain it was nowhere near the hours he had offered. You let your thighs squeeze and hips buck when they needed to, trying to focus on your breathing. You made some sounds, but most of your moans came out as sighs and gasps, instead.

After a few minutes, you felt the tightness in your lower stomach, the heat filling your core and causing your face to flush.

You knew you were getting closer, but your bra felt uncomfortable against under your shirt and it made it harder to focus, so you ached just enough to peel off your shirt. You tried to fumble with your bra but the angle made it harder, and you were relieved when Matt noticed, pulling the bra down and making it easier for you. He groaned against your clit as your tits fell loose, causing you to whine.

He ate like a starving man, desperate and entirely enthralled in the feeling of you against his tongue. His eyes were glued to your face and the way your hands squeezed and kneaded your breasts, his own hand coming up to grope them over yours.

Your ankles crossed over his shoulders, digging into his back slightly as your back arched. You knew the faces you were making were likely atrocious, your jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut, but you couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.

You shook rather violently as you nearer your peak, but his hands held your hips firmly in place.

“Matt… Matt— Oh fuck, Matt,” You whined and moaned.

“I know, baby. Give it up to me. Whenever you’re ready, baby, I’m right here.”

It was only a few seconds later that you finally did finish. You came all over his face, a rather embarrassing amount, you’ll admit, but Matt lapped up every drop he could. By the time you had settled, his face was glistening and his eyes were hazy, almost as fucked out as you were.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, wiping his chin on his arm before crawling up to kiss you.

You kissed you slow, his arms wrapped around you and his weight pressing you into the mattress.

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled against your mouth.

You were still catching your breath when he pulled out his phone, typing something.

“What are you…?”

“I’m telling Nick to stop somewhere and get us dinner. You can cook for us another night.”

You hummed in acceptance, your eyes already sleepy.

“Do you still need help? I can—”

“No need, baby. I’m alright.”

Your brows furrowed and you were about to protest but he chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“I came in my pants like a teenager, alright? There, now we’ve both been embarrassed tonight.”

You laughed softly, amused but also secretly finding it hotter than you’d like to admit.

“I still want you to fuck me properly,” you mumble sleepily.

“I’ll set an alarm for us to wake up with plenty of time before Chris and Nick get home. We’ll see how you feel, then.”

You snuggle into him, enjoying the scratchy feeling of his stubble against your shoulder.

“I’ve got the rest of my life to fuck you how you deserve. You need to rest.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to bite back a grin.

“See? Now, I can blame the sex.”

He lifted his head, eyes meeting yours with every ounce of love and adoration.

You swore to yourself that you would forget him, that you would move on, that it wouldn't be so difficult, but it was, quite difficult.

It wasn't your fault; he deserved to stay away; he was wrong. Even though it hurt him so much, and even more so you, the story had already ended there; it had to end there.

"There was no other way", you told yourself. There was another way, but your minds were so focused on him and vice versa that it was difficult to think of the perfect solution. In the end? No solution.

It was a Friday night, you had returned to Manhattan, and he stayed in his corner in Los Angeles. Home sweet home, and poor fairy tale over.

You were upset about it, you knew you were upset, but you carried on with your life anyway, you went back home, reunited with your cats, and were comfortably in the living room at one in the morning trying to think of some song lyrics.

Your mind was blank. He and nothing else was all you could think about; that laptop in front of you was practically nothing.

You sighed deeply, running a hand over your face, and turned to the black cat beside you. JJ (totally inspired by obx) has always been good company. You petted the cat when you received a message on your phone.

Who was it at this hour? was Tessa, she was your friend, she usually didn't stay up late , but supposedly she was with someone at a party, fair enough.

Oh, you read that right:

"did u see chris's new EP? ur name is on it."

what. the. actual. fuck.

That certainly wasn't a dream; you knew when you were dreaming. You stood still for a second, JJ even jumped out from beside you and you didn't notice.

You didn't even know if it was real. It was almost a challenge, was it a good idea to listen? After everything? Or not? Is it better to leave it alone? To leave the past behind? It's only been 2 months, but why so many questions?

After thinking about it for a while and asking JJ if he thought it was right (even though he didn't answer anyway), you decided to go ahead with me, and what did that mean? Listening to that song, for sure.

"kiss me as if it were

the last time

that we see each other, oh

I'm the one who pushed you away.

like that time

I swear I'll never go back."

Pause. By that point you were already blown away, the melody was good, it had some really interesting background vocals, but the lyrics were everything, the way he sang, slowly but in a way that was still understandable, brought back memories, many of them, along with a shiver.

Vice honestly thought about stopping for a moment, it was too much, and that was only the first and only chorus of the song.

"like a river

You flow into me.

as if it were a book

difficult to decipher

in LA cityIt's hard to love you.

where my work takes place

It's hard to love you."

The laptop shut down there, that was enough. After putting the device aside, you get up and go to the kitchen, calmly grab a glass of water, because the despair was inside.

After the glass of water, and after deciding to distract himself a bit by giving JJ some snacks Peace finally came, along with a deep sigh.

"thats insane"

It was indeed, but what was more than that? The number calling on your phone.

it was him.

yeah , was real.

You held your breath for a moment, staring at your phone screen, seriously considering whether you should answer.

The adrenaline was too strong, you answered. Silence settled for a few seconds before he finally spoke.

"y/n? you're here?"

His voice was a little hoarse, like it was when he woke up, and you actually loved that sound; it was good to hear him again. A sense of relief washed over you, but then you remembered to reply.

"yeah, why you called me?"

"to see if you listened to your song , that i made"

"i did"

A silence fell, as if he were even impressed that she actually had; knowing her, she wouldn't have done it. He cleared his throat, probably because he was smoking before calling, and continued.

"and... did ya like it?"

a pause

"It would be better with a few more vocals."

You only answered that because you knew that you were the one who did his vocals. It was indeed a low blow, but you couldn't miss the opportunity.

"do you want to come here and redo it then?"

bold of him , but made you more interested

"tempting, but not after two months."

"aw cmon"

Classic sturniolo move, that simple expression that made him seem like a child, but that always won her over.

"we can solve this again, right?"

"your music says that you wouldn't come back"

he told himself everyday since he got his hands on the video that he wouldn’t touch matt’s phone again. but your contact on matt’s phone had been burned into his skull since he saw it.

his curiosity spiking with every growing second.

he wanted to know what you talked about with matt. what you sent him—specifically what pictures you sent to matt.

did you send him dirty ones of you in nothing? or ones of you in lacy sets? or where they ones of your outfits and how good you looked in anything you dressed in?

it was an endless list of things he wanted to know.

so when he got his hands on matt’s phone again, he didn’t stop himself. he didn’t know how much time he had, if he would get caught quickly or not.

he tried to make it fast.

quickly he opened matt’s messages—still thanking the fact that him and matt look similar so he could get into his phone. your name was at the top of his conversations, and his thumb clicked on it.

it took a little before he came across the first photo of you—it was too bold. just you in a crop top with some cute sleep shorts on, posing.

but it was when he decided to stop scrolling and instead click on your name, opening up the photos option to see them all collectively.

it didn’t take long until his eyes landed on the ones that made his stomach clench and his cock throb in his pants. nip slips you sent—you kneeling in front of a mirror in a black thong, the perfect side profile of your tits as you held your phone.

“fuck..” he groaned quietly, free hand coming down to palm at himself. his thumb was still scrolling through more, and a few pictures up—he saw the one thing that made his cock twitch.

a picture of you fully naked. posed in front of your full length mirror on your knees—tits on fully display, legs spread wide.

his face felt hot, he felt as though he could cum right there if he let his hand squeeze his cock a few more times. but he pulled his hand away before he could. letting out a few shallow breaths.

his imagination started to wander while his eyes bore into the photo—but the sound of footsteps upstairs had him scrambling to close the app and set the phone down on the counter like nothing happened.

he walked away, quickly finding something to do to make it seem like he was busy when matt came back to reclaim his phone. mumbling something about being back later before he left towards the front door.

chris didn’t know how he made it through the rest of the morning without slipping. his mind wouldn’t stop racing with the thought of you. those pictures were carved into him now.

every time he closed his eyes, those pictures flashed in his head—your soft skin, the arch of your back, the way your legs looked spread wide like that.

it was torture. pure and utter torture. because the more he saw of you, the more he wanted to fuck you—to have his turn with you.

he’s always been content watching from the side lines, getting off to watching you be pleasured by his brother. but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting restless.

chris let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair to try and calm himself. the last thing he needed was to have a hard on all day because he couldn’t stop thinking about you—and that was already hard enough to do.

by now a few hours had passed and matt had been gone ever since—out running errands or doing whatever he did when he disappeared for the day.

chris was still lounging on the couch, never having moved from when he planted himself there earlier. he wasn’t expecting to see you—he thought you had gone with matt because he hadn’t seen you all day. but he was wrong when heard your bedroom door open and the sound of your bare feet against the floor.

your footsteps padded against the floor, walking towards the stairs before you descended down them. you appeared in the doorway a moment later, holding a bottle of sunscreen in your hand while a towel draped over your arm.

“chris?” you said, shifting your weight on both of your feet. “can you put this on my back? I wanna go lay out and matt isn’t here at the moment.”

chris’ eyes bore into yours before he takes them down your body. his answer got caught somewhere in his throat because—fuck.

you were standing there in a bikini that barely covered anything. the kind of bikini that was meant for looking, not swimming. thin straps that sat high on your hips, a top that didn’t even try to hide the curve of your tits.

chris had to stop his mouth from opening the longer he stared. he had to stop staring all together, but fuck was it hard.

not to mention just that glance had his cock stirring in his pants.

“yeah,” he finally said, his voice coming out rougher than he intended it to. “yeah c’mere.” you smiled, padding over your him as he sat up on the couch fully. your hand holding the bottle of sunscreen out, and he took it from you as you turned away.

he flipped the cap open with one hand while his gaze locked onto the smooth line of your spine. squeezing a generous amount of sunscreen in his palm and pressed it to your warm skin.

the second he started rubbing the sunscreen in, his mind betrayed him—replaying that picture of you on your knees, tits pushed together, legs open. the same back he was looking at now, but in his head you were naked.

chris let out a quiet groan—one too quiet enough for you to hear—as his fingers spread the sunscreen in slow, firm circles across your skin. his hands drifting lower than necessary, thumbs brushing over the dip of your waist.

“not missing a spot are you?” you teased with a giggle, glancing back over your shoulder to look at him. chris smirked faintly, chuckling. “just making sure it’s… thorough.” he muttered the last part, his mind wandering as his hands skimmed down to the small of your back. then the top curve of your ass, fingers splaying like he might get away with grabbing a handful.

he could feel the tightness in his sweats now—his cock hard and twitching at the thoughts and images running through his head of you. his hands lingered, slowing down when he got to the flesh of your thighs. you sucked in a breath—he could hear it. but you didn’t pull away. if anything, you shifted slightly, like you were making it easier for him to reach.

he shifted in his seat, his body moving closer to yours without really realizing it. his pulse was hammering against his chest—at how close his hands were to your cunt. how if he moved them inward just a little more, he’d be able to rub you through your bikini bottoms.

his breathing picked up as he just stared. and his could feel how yours had too—the tension becoming thicker with each passing moment. but before he could push it any further, he took a deep breath and pulled his hands away, letting you step away as you muttered a small “thanks,” and disappeared outside.

he sat there for a moment, leaning back, his palms burning like they were still touching you.

fuck he was so screwed.

hours later once everyone had already gone to bed—well after most people had gone to bed. chris was still awake, laying in his bed because he couldn’t sleep.

the house was quiet except for the muffled sounds he could hear coming from matt’s room next door. and chris knew exactly what those sounds were—and whose voice they belonged to.

he could hear your muffled cries through the wall. all the little things you’d babble to matt as he fucked you.

chris told himself he wouldn’t look—that he wouldn’t try and watch again no matter how much he wanted to see you. he told himself to stay the fuck out of it.

but the longer he laid there listening, the more hard he got listening to your moans and whines. so he found himself in the hall anyway, leaning against the wall outside matt’s cracked bedroom door.

chris thought it was stupid how often you two left the door open late at night. how easily the both of you could get caught—just look at how many times he’s caught and watched.

chris leaned against the door frame, positioning himself so he could look through the crack in the door.

matt had you on your hands and knees, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock in and out of your soaked cunt as his hands dug into your waist.

chris froze the moment he saw you. his stomach dropping because the angle—the curve of your back, the swell of your ass—it was the exact view he’d had earlier while rubbing sunscreen on you.

“fuck..” he groaned, every little thing he thought about earlier flooding back into his mind as he looked at you. the way his hands felt against your skin—the way you looked in your little bikini that barely covered anything.

he watched as matt leaned over you, groaning something low in your ear that he couldn’t hear. but your back arched more at his words—moaning and allowing your legs to open wider for his cock to bully in and out of you.

your bikini had long since abandoned—the material discarded across the floor from what chris could see. chris’ cock throbbed in his shorts as he watched your ass jiggle from matt’s thrusts and he imagined on what it would be like stepping in and taking over.

what it would be like if he was fucking you instead—feeling the way your pussy wrapped around his cock instead of his brother…and he was so close to doing so.

chris hadn’t even realized his hand had trailed down and slipped into his sweats until his hand gripped his cock. he hissed, looking down, his free hand pushing his sweats down to pull himself out.

he let his spit trail down, landing on his tip before he pumped his hand. he hissed at the friction, already feeling so on edge from earlier in the day and the show he was getting right now.

he didn’t bother starting slow—his head looking back up through the crack in the door, watching how matt’s thrusts had gotten quicker. his hands pressing down on your lower back to keep you pinned to the mattress.

chris let his hand match the pace matt was fucking you at, the imagine of you burned behind his eyes.

inside the room though…

you body was shaking, every thrust from matt sending your tits swinging and your nails clawing into the sheets more than they already were. he had you pinned, his cock dragging so deep inside you it felt like he was splitting you open.

your voice cracked with each moan—way louder than you intended for them to be, but you couldn’t help it—he fucked you like he knew how much you needed it.

“f-fuck matt,” you whimpered, tears starting to prick in the corner of your eyes from how good it felt, “i can’t—oh my god—” you tried to say, but your words died on your tongue.

matt chuckled behind you, one hand moving to tangle itself in your hair, the other staying pressed right into the small of your back. “can’t what? hm? can’t take it? mm that’s a shame, seem t’be takin’ it just fine baby. so fuckin’ wet for me.”

his words made you moan, your walls squeezing around him tightly as the tip of his cock missed that spot inside you with ever drag of his hips.

but through the haze of pleasure—you felt as if there were eyes on you. and normally you never did, even when having the door cracked. so your head turned just slightly, and you saw the faintest movement in the crack of the door.

chris.

his hand was wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously as his eyes drank you in.

your breath hitched, a shiver running down your spine that wasn’t from matt this time. and you should’ve screamed, or told him to fuck off, or at least looked away—but you didn’t..you couldn’t.

your pussy clenched around matt so tight he groaned in surprise. “shit—what was that?” he rasped, his hips stuttering.

matt always teased about someone watching—someone catching the two of you. and you never would’ve believed chris would be the one who would.

but fuck did it turn you on more. you could feel your orgasm approaching quicker than before, your stomach twisting tighter and tighter the longer your eyes lingered on chris.

and from outside—he was losing it too.

chris locked his eyes onto yours, watched how your mouth parted on broken sounds and how your body shook more the moment you noticed him.

he wasn’t planning on getting caught, but he didn’t hate it. he loved it.

it’s like part of him liked the fact you knew he was watching you get fucked, and how he was stroking himself to it too.

“matt—oh god, i’m—” your voice pitched higher, shameless now. your eyes still locked on chris through the crack as your body gave in. “m’cumming! oh fuck!”

your words echoed off the walls—your whole body trembling as you came around matt’s cock. your juices dripping down your thighs. and chris groaned at what he saw—what he heard. his fist moving even faster, and it was like you knew he was close too.

chris heard matt growl behind you, oblivious to the fact he was watching, fucking you through every wave of your climax, his cock still pounding into your spasming cunt.

he smirked down at your arching back, completely unaware of why you came so hard just then—or who you were staring at while you did.

but chris knew and that was what pushed him over the line.

his head fell back against the frame, breath ragged as he bit out a harsh, “fuck—” before hot ropes of cum spilled across his fist and stomach. he squeezed his cock through every pulse, his eyes still locked on you even as his knees nearly gave out.

he had to bite down on his free hand to muffle the sound. his cum dripping down his knuckles as he stayed there—watching as matt kept using you like nothing had happened.

your eyes were still on his—wide and wild. chris just smirked, tucking himself back into his sweats before he walked away, knowing that you just came for the wrong brother.

When Matt came back home, the first thing you did was hug him tightly, making him chuckle in surprise, his arms wrapping around you almost immediately. He looked down, a bit confused but otherwise amused, as you refused to let him go, your face buried in his red plaid hoodie.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" He murmured, running a hand up and down your back, the gesture soothing your nerves.

You were beyond relieved to see that nothing had happened. But the relief was short-lived. Because coldness creeped onto your skin. Slowly. Like it was trying not to be noticed. Like it wanted to devour you before you could stop it.

It was a foreign feeling—unlike anything you’ve felt before. It was hard to describe. The chill felt as if it came from within you, freezing your blood, making your teeth chatter.

Matt’s brows furrowed slightly, confusion taking over his features as he pulled back. His hands held your arms firmly, searching your face. Why did you look like you were freezing? It wasn’t cold inside the house.

"Hey, look at me..." Matt mumbled, one of his hands gently lifting your chin so he’d see your face more clearly. "Are you okay? Is something wrong? Do you want me to turn off the aircon..." Matt’s voice trailed off when he felt the increase in your temperature, the way you were shivering, and the slight droopiness of your eyes.

Chris and Nick flocked around you and Matt, concern etched onto their faces as Matt explained what just happened, equally as confused as his brothers. Your vision slowly blacked out and you slumped onto Matt, making him quickly wrap his arms around your waist to prevent you from falling.

When you woke up, a few hours later, Matt was sitting beside you on his bed, his face pale and eyes wide. His hand was holding yours tightly, refusing to let go even when he saw your eyes open and look around his room, blinking slowly, before it landed on him.

"What happened?" You mumbled, groaning softly as you sat up slowly. Matt took his hand away, instead helping you sit up. He didn’t speak, not knowing what to say. He was confused and slightly shaken up by the abruptness of your fever.

All he could do was pull you closer, murmuring soft words into your hair, his face buried in your neck. "You had a fever... but you’re alright now baby... I got you."

Nothing much happened that evening, it went without any complications. Just soft—intimate, like every other night. Matt promised to take you to the hospital tomorrow for check-ups even though you reassured him you were fine countless times.

You thought things would go back to normal. Lazy mornings, intimate nights, soft kisses in between the hours, sweet words exchanged like second nature. You thought the comfort you felt when you were with Matt would still be there. Nothing is wrong, after all.

Right?

Oh, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The following few days were bizarre—to say the least. It felt like someone was watching you, analyzing your every move, and it only ever felt that way when Matt was near. When he’d look at you all lovingly, you’d feel a second pair of eyes—cold and heavy—boring into your soul.

You didn’t tell Matt though. You couldn’t. What would you even say? That you felt like you were going insane? That it felt like someone was watching you? That you were beginning to think he brought something home that night?

Despite having no one to talk to about your worries—all because you didn’t want the triplets to worry about something that could just be a result of your paranoia—you started to investigate what exactly was happening in the Sturniolo residence.

At first, there was the bone-chilling cold breeze that followed Matt wherever he went. And neither Nick or Chris seemed to feel it—or anyone else in that matter. Some lights flickered here and there—nothing serious. Probably needed to be replaced. Right?

But then came the soft murmurs at night. Soft "I love you’s" and "You’re mine" near Matt’s side of the bed, and it wasn’t him who was saying it. It was too soft and feminine, and It was so quiet that you thought it was just the whistling of the wind outside at first.

You tried to tolerate it, thinking it was just your brain playing tricks on you. You hoped it was just your anxiety talking, trying to make you think something went wrong during the investigation at the trap house, but no matter how much you tried to think otherwise, every nerve in your body was screaming danger.

By the second week, you had had enough, so you began placing small hidden cameras everywhere in Matt’s room, trying to get some footage that’d explain why the things that were happening were happening. You needed a good night’s rest without thinking about every possible scenario. You needed closure.

That night was the worst.

Nothing was wrong at first, hell, it felt like the cold atmosphere had eased for the first time in two weeks. You and Matt got in bed, cuddled together, laughing and whispering softly before sleep took over you both. You were going to keep watch to see if you’d catch anything out of the ordinary but Matt’s warm body and the soothing beat of his heart against your ear lulled you to a peaceful sleep.

It was probably around 2 am when you were woken up by the sound of scratching, like sharp nails repeatedly clawing at the bedframe. You began to wake up more but you didn’t open your eyes—you couldn’t. Not when you felt like someone was sitting right above your head.

They say the human brain has the ability to tell when someone is near through sound and shadows even when your eyes are closed. And since your eyelids aren’t fully opaque you can—somewhat—see the subtle silhouette of a person (or, in this case, a ghostly apparition) if they’re near you.

"We should switch places... You don’t deserve my Matt..." A soft voice murmured, and you felt something cold touch your forehead, sending shivers down your spine.

"You’re awake aren’t you?" The woman whispered. "Don’t pretend... I know you can hear me... I know you can see me."

A soft laugh echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls, sounding like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time—ghostly, haunting. You didn’t dare open your eyes, your body tense as your hand made its way to Matt’s, so you’d have something to ground yourself with.

But there was nothing.

No matter how much you searched under the blanket, you couldn’t find Matt’s hand. And so, you were forced to open your eyes, and what you saw when you turned your head to the side made your heart skip a beat—as if it stopped beating for a moment.

Instead of seeing your boyfriend sleeping peacefully beside you, you came face to face with a young woman, probably in her early twenties. Her face was bloodied, sunken, gaunt. Eye sockets hollow like her eyes had been scooped out. Lips blue and busted.

"You can see me can’t you?" The woman smiled widely, her rotting teeth glinting ominously in the moonlight. "Give him to me... Or..." She trailed off, her smile widening into an inhumane grin.

"Give me your body."

Her frail, cold hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing with surprising strength and cutting off your air supply.

You struggled, clawing at the hands around your throat, your face turning red, then blue. But no matter how much you struggled, the woman was too strong, her fingers seeming to wrap around your throat tighter the more you squirmed.

"He’s mine-"

The woman’s words cut off when you woke up with a start, sitting up and gasping rapidly for air, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Your eyes quickly scanned the room—which was now light thanks to the morning sun—as you held your throat, feeling how sore it was.

Your eyes landed on Matt, sleeping beside you, his face peaceful and features soft, his breaths deep and even. Your hands trembled as you laid back down, scooting closer to Matt. He stirred slightly, feeling your body pressed against his. Smiling softly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you more into his chest before going back to sleep.

You stayed like that until he woke up, too shaken up to get out of bed alone.

Things began to worsen day by day. The harmless whispers turned to threats and taunts, directed at you instead of Matt. You were beginning to dread sleeping because of the nightmares that felt all too real to be just a figment of your imagination.

And the worst part? The hours of footage from the hidden cameras showed nothing out of the ordinary even at night. You began to believe you were losing your mind. It didn’t help when you started hearing her whispers in broad daylight, always when Matt was beside you.

"Fuck, my shoulders hurts so fucking bad." Matt complained for the umpteenth time this week, saying it felt as if he had something heavy on his shoulders. It became normal for him to lay down more often, feeling fatigued for some reason.

Chris and Nick finally spoke up, unable to stay quiet.

"Are you okay? Like, not in a joking way. Are you actually okay?" Chris asked Matt, who sat on the opposite side of the couch, messaging his shoulders, his face twisted in discomfort.

Matt turned to look at Chris, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You just look... really fucking tired. And you’ve been complaining about your shoulders like you did your ankle. Is it hurting that badly?" Chris said, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah," Matt hissed as he sat up straight, feeling the soreness of his shoulders, his face twisting in agony.

"You should go to the hospital. Or we can go together." Nick said, walking into the living room, a bag of popcorn in his hand as he flopped down on the couch beside Matt, his eyes trained on the movie playing on the TV in front of them.

"Where is-"

Nick’s words cut off as his head snapped to the side—where Matt sat. His head turned so quickly he was sure he’d gotten whiplash. Both Chris and Matt looked at him strangely, confused by the sudden movement and how startled Nick looked.

"Oh my God... I swear I just saw like a humanoid creature sitting on Matt’s shoulders through my peripheral vision. Or am I going crazy?" He said, blinking, mouth slightly parted as he stared at Matt to see if that was just a figment of his imagination.

Matt chuckled softly, shifting on his spot, uncomfortable. The words Nick said seemed to make his mind reel with thoughts of the paranormal before he pushed them away, clearing his throat—but didn’t touch his shoulders anymore.

"You’re just seeing things." He dismissed, trying to convince himself, too.

That night, in bed, Matt couldn’t sleep. His fingers combed through your hair, playing with it, as he watched you sleep. Suddenly, your brows furrowed, a soft whimper leaving your lips. He gently shook your shoulder, trying to wake you up from your nightmare, but to no avail.

"Baby, wake up." He said. Well, it sounded more like a murmur due to the sleep in his voice.

Your eyes snapped open, and you sat up abruptly, causing Matt to sit up too, worried. Your body began to shudder with the soft sobs leaving your lips, your breathing turning ragged.

"Hey... Look at me." Matt said softly. He turned your face towards him with gentle hands, his thumbs wiping away your tears. "It was just a dream, okay? You’re awake, and I’m here."

You let him hug you, whisper soft nothing’s in your ear. And with his help, you eventually fell back asleep, although it was a restless one.

The next morning, Matt finally went to the hospital to get his shoulders checked, but nothing came out of it. The doctors said he might have some sore muscles but nothing was seriously injured and prescribed him stronger pain killers than the over-the-counter ones. And he went home defeated, not understanding what the problem was if it wasn’t physical.

He began to notice some things too. How you tensed up whenever he was close. How you began staying over less and less. How you stopped looking at him the way you used to. Now you just looked at him with something that resembled... fear. That didn’t sit right with him; It made his stomach churn.

Why were you looking at him as if you were afraid of him?

When you brought up taking a break, Matt’s world crumbled. You didn’t say break-up yet, but it felt inevitable. Like you were just looking for the right time to say you couldn’t be with him anymore. He had predicted this—he had seen the signs before you even spoke up on it—but it didn’t hurt any less.

Maybe it was the heartbreak but Matt began to feel drained. Like not even mentally, but physically. He felt weak as if he hadn’t eaten in days even though he ate enough for an adult man his age.

To top it all off, his shoulder pain had only worsened and he couldn’t even walk across the street without feeling like his knees would buckle from how much it felt like something was pressing all its weight down on his shoulders.

At night, he’d dream, and the dream is always the same; a woman lays beside him, curling into his side, whispering soft words in his ear. Her face was inhumane, her facial features twisted and bloodied, eyes missing and teeth rotten.

At first he thought it was just sleep paralysis. He hoped it was. But he quickly realized—with a sickening drop in his stomach—that he could move his body.

It wasn’t sleep paralysis. It was real. She was real.

You on the other hand? You were better. A lot better.

The nightmares had stopped, the constant whispers were gone like a puff of smoke, and you no longer felt eyes on you. But despite being free from whatever the hell was happening, something heavy had settled in your heart.

Maybe because you knew something—someone—was following Matt, sitting on his shoulders, claiming him to be hers and whispering things Matt was sure were just from the background of the movie playing on his tv or the whistling of the wind—somehow.

Guilt settled like a heavy weight in your chest, dropping down to your stomach, tearing through your insides—or so it felt. You could’ve stayed with Matt, helped him, done something. But all you did was selfishly run away, too scared to face whatever was going on.

Then, one day, you finally found the courage to visit him. You expected Matt to open the door, somewhat hoping he would, but Chris was the one who opened the door, his hair messier than usual like he’d been running his fingers through it too much.

"Looking for Matt?" He asked, sounding tired. His words were tinged with sarcasm, hinting that he wasn’t happy to see you.

You ignored the sarcasm in his tone and spoke. "Yeah, is he... is he alright?" You knew it was a selfish thing to ask considering how you left him when his health was deteriorating, but you couldn’t help it. You needed to see if he was okay.

Chris shook his head no, running a hand down his face, scratching his stubble that seemed unusually unkempt. "You can go look if he’s alright with your own two eyes if you wanna know so badly." He finally moved aside to let you into the house. "He’s in his room."

You gave him a small, grateful smile before going to Matt's room. Your heart thumped loudly as your nerves grew the closer you got to his room. Your hands felt clammy when you finally reached his room but you took a deep breath and opened the door.

Your eyes immediately landed on Matt despite how dark his room was due to the late hours. He was lying in his bed, just staring at his closet door.

"Matt..." You whispered. Despite what your brain was telling you—to run away from here as quickly as possible—your body didn’t listen and took careful steps forward, closing the door behind yourself.

The sound of your voice made Matt’s eyes tear up with relief, but he didn’t let himself believe it was you and instead forced himself to believe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, trying to make him believe he wouldn’t be alone in this, trying to give him closure.

"Matt... baby." You were beside his bed now, your voice breaking at the endearment when you saw how gaunt he looked. You could feel your heart squeezing tightly in your chest at how much worse he had gotten since the last time you’ve seen him.

You still loved him. This wasn’t what you wanted. Fuck, how selfish were you to leave him?

Matt slowly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief, his lips parting but no words came out.

You sat down beside him and his eyes followed your movements. Tentatively, you reached out to take one of his hands, intertwining your fingers together, your thumb caressing the back of his hand.

"God... I’m so sorry." You whispered, your eyes filling up with tears of shame and guilt. "I should’ve- I should’ve been here for you—"

"It’s okay." Matt cut you off with a soft whisper, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. "All that matters is that you’re here now, no?"

Your arms wrapped around him, your face buried in his neck. "I’m so sorry baby... I’ll be here I promise... I’ll never leave you again."

Matt’s arms wrapped your waist as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent—something floral and sweet—the one he used to smell every morning, the one he missed so fucking much. One of his hands ran up and down your back, the warmth of his palm through your shirt sent pleasant shivers down your spine.

"Yeah... I missed you..." He murmured into your hair, closing his eyes. "I missed you so much. Thank you for coming back."

His words made your arms tighten around him, warmth spreading through your chest, and you made a silent vow to never leave his side ever again—no matter what happens.

It was ironic how you came to care for him only to be the one getting cared for. But you couldn’t help it. His sweet words and gentle hands soothed your guilt, and you cuddled with him on his bed, your hand in his hair and his face buried in your chest.

You fell asleep not long after, feeling home in Matt’s bed with his arms around you. Oh, how much you’ve missed this. You became determined to make Matt get rid of whatever that plagued him. It’ll be alright. Things will go back to normal.

Pfft. How sweet.

The sun began to rise and you stirred as the room grew slightly lighter—but not so much thanks to Matt’s curtain. You shimmied your way out of Matt’s arms, careful not to wake him up and stretched your body before walking to the bathroom to relieve yourself, your lips stretched into an otherworldly—uncanny—smile.

You hummed softly to yourself as you washed your hands after using the bathroom, the smile never leaving your lips, before drying them on a towel by the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your reflection smiling back at you.

"Finally..." You (?) murmured, unable to wipe the joy you (?) felt off your face.

God, I’m finally alive again.

No one suspected a thing. And who could blame them? She acted just like you. A carbon copy of your personality, with sweet smiles that looked real when in reality those were nothing but an act. She had watched you intently, after all. Studying your every move, burning it to her memory, practicing quietly.

"I felt someone watching me whenever you were near." "It felt like they were watching my every move—analyzing me."

Now. She had everything she ever wanted—Matt.

She didn’t see him at the trap house. No. She wasn’t a ghost haunting the place but rather a spirit wandering around aimlessly until she saw him walking outside at night with his brothers, giggling as his brothers fought, and she was instantly attracted. Or well, obsessed.

At first, her goal was to leech off of him, drain him little by little until he was at his deathbed and eventually kill him so he’d be with her forever. She even tried to get rid of you. But that was only in the beginning. The more she thought about it, the more ideal the idea of stealing your body became.

You were stupid enough to fall right into her trap, acting as if you were some heroine in a superhero movie. And now, thanks to how naïve and stupid the both of you were, she’s able to live again. And with the man she desired, no less.

You and Matt’s fate might be worse than death itself. There is no saving. No hope. Just her. And Matt, believing blindly, happy that you were back with him, happy that things were back to normal.

How tragic.

Do you know what’s scary?

Obsession. Deep—unhinged—obsession. The one you don’t know is there until you’ve been consumed by it. Body and mind. Mind and soul.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆.ᐟ | 𝒘𝒄 – 𝟑.𝟕 𝒌 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Isa’s rambling ۶ৎ Ugh I’m so sorry for not posting this fic sooner like it’s been so long since the Collab '~' I’m not sure how many of you fw horror-thriller stuff but I do, a lot actually. So you know I had to write something about it and I chose Matt ’cause ghosts seem to really favor him for some reason. Also, I dunno what happens in the video ’cause I (still) haven’t watched it yet (I’m intimidated by how long it is and I also don’t have enough time to actually sit comfortably and watch the full thing yk). Anyway, this was genuinely so fun to write even tho I’m not sure how well I did ^-^

© 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏