t ᥬᩤ

sturniolo triplets & madison beer defender !!

[envythel3avess]

Deep Blue

a matt sturniolo fanfic

meet the characters:

matt - 22 years old, triplet, influencer, humble, athletic, quiet, considerate, loyal, generous, hardworking, sentimental, and sarcastic.

paisley - 22 years old, shark biologist and conservationist, dedicated, compassionate, forgiving, generous, honest, loyal, passionate, understanding, emotional, and humble.

side characters:

chris - matt’s younger brother

nick - matt’s older brother

story introduction:

Most people thought filming YouTube videos was all fun and games.

For Matt and his triplet brothers, Nick and Chris, it was their job. Millions of people watched their adventures, workouts, and crazy challenges online, and this week’s video was one of their biggest yet—going shark diving with a local marine conservation team.

Matt wasn’t exactly thrilled.

He had no problem vlogging his daily life or doing challenges, but getting into the ocean with sharks something completely different. Chris, on the other hand, couldn’t stop talking about how “epic” the footage was going to be, while Nick was already planning the thumbnail before they had even arrived.

As soon as they stepped onto the dock, a young woman in a faded blue long-sleeve shirt with the conservation organization’s logo walked toward them. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, sunglasses rested on top of her head, and a clipboard was tucked under one arm.

“You must be the Sturniolos,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m Paisley. I’ll be leading today’s dive.”

Matt barely heard the rest of what she said.

It wasn’t because she was beautiful, although she definitely was.

It was the way she carried herself. Calm. Confident. Like she belonged on the water more than she did on land. She spoke about sharks with so much passion that it was impossible not to listen.

Unlike everyone else they met, Paisley didn’t seem impressed by their cameras, subscriber count, or online fame. She cared about one thing: making sure the sharks, and everyone on the boat made it back safely.

For the first time in a long time, Matt wasn’t thinking about the video they were there to film.

He was thinking about her.

Chapters:

1

[envythel3avess]

Deep Blue

a matt sturniolo fanfic

Chapter One

Matt’s POV:

“If I die, I’m haunting both of you.”

Chris looked up from his phone with the biggest grin I’d seen all week. “You haven’t even heard the idea yet.”

“I don’t have to.”

Nick laughed from the driver’s seat as we crawled through downtown Boston traffic. “That’s fair.”

The three of us had been in Boston for a couple of days, filming content while we were back home visiting family and friends. Most of our work was already done, which left us with some free days before flying home. Normally, that meant spending time with friends, hanging out with our mom and dad, and finding something fun to turn into a YouTube video.

Unfortunately, Chris had been suspiciously quiet all morning.

That usually meant he was planning something.

He turned his phone around so Nick and I could see the screen. It was filled with pictures of massive great white sharks.

“I want to go shark diving.”

Silence.

Nick blinked once.

I blinked twice.

“No,” Nick answered immediately.

Chris ignored him. “Hear me out.”

“No.”

“It’s actually a good idea.”

“No.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Chris shot Nick an offended look. “Can you at least pretend to consider it before crushing my dreams?”

“I am considering it,” Nick said. “I’ve considered it enough to know it’s a terrible idea.”

Chris dramatically sighed before turning toward me.

“Matt?”

I should’ve known he’d recruit me.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you were Team Sharks during the Versus Tour.”

I rolled my eyes.

“That was a theme,” I reminded him. “Wearing shark merch for a competition doesn’t automatically qualify me to swim with them.”

“It kind of does.”

“It really doesn’t.”

Chris kept going anyway.

“Think about it. We’re already in Boston. Cape Cod is, like, right there, and it’s one of the best places to see great white sharks. There are makos, blue sharks, basking sharks—”

“Did you memorize that?” Nick interrupted.

“I did research.”

“I’m concerned.”

“I’m prepared.”

Nick glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

“Tell him he’s crazy.”

I looked back out the window for a second, watching the city pass by. Chris wasn’t wrong. We were always saying we wanted to make videos that felt different instead of repeating the same challenges over and over again.

Most people only saw the finished product. They didn’t see the planning, the meetings, or how often we’d sit around trying to come up with something that hadn’t already been done a hundred times.

Getting outside our comfort zone usually made for the best videos.

“I don’t hate it,” I admitted.

Nick’s eyes widened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not saying yes.”

“It sounds like you’re saying yes.”

“I’m saying…” I paused, thinking it through. “…if we’re going to do it, we do it the right way.”

Chris sat up straighter.

“I knew you were my favorite.”

“You told Nick he was your favorite yesterday.”

“I have different favorites for different situations.”

Nick shook his head.

“We’re ignoring that.”

I laughed.

“If we do this,” I continued, “it has to be with an actual research or conservation company. Somewhere that knows what they’re doing. No sketchy tourist places.”

Chris nodded immediately.

“Obviously.”

“And they have to be okay with us filming.”

“Also obvious.”

“I mean it,” I said. “If they don’t want cameras around, we respect that. We don’t pressure anyone just because we make YouTube videos.”

Chris didn’t even hesitate.

“Deal.”

Nick drummed his fingers against the steering wheel for a long moment.

“You two seriously want to get in the ocean with sharks.”

“They’ll probably be in cages,” Chris offered.

“Probably?”

“I’m assuming.”

“‘Assuming’ isn’t exactly comforting.”

I smiled despite myself.

“You don’t have to love the idea.”

“I actively hate the idea.”

“But?”

Nick let out a dramatic sigh that filled the entire car.

“But… if we can find a reputable company that’s comfortable with us filming, has experienced guides, and doesn’t do anything reckless…”

Chris and I exchanged a look.

“…then I’ll think about it.”

Chris threw both hands into the air.

“That’s basically a yes!”

“That is absolutely not a yes.”

“It was close enough.”

I leaned back in my seat, smiling to myself.

Truthfully, shark diving wasn’t something I’d ever planned on doing.

But maybe that was exactly why we should.

Some of the best experiences in my life had started with someone suggesting something that sounded completely ridiculous. Most of the time, fear wasn’t a sign that I shouldn’t do something.

Sometimes it was just a reminder that I hadn’t done it yet.

Now all we had to do was find a company willing to take three influencers out into shark territory… and somehow trust us not to make complete idiots of ourselves.

Something told me that might be the hardest part.

[envythel3avess]

AIN’T MY FAULT

a chris sturniolo imagine

based on the song "ain’t my fault" by zara larsson

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆

The bass thumped through the floor, rattling the glasses on the counter as neon lights flickered across the crowded room. She wasn’t even planning on staying long, just one drink, maybe two. That was the deal she made with herself. Then he walked in.

Chris had that kind of presence that shifted the air without trying. A lazy half-smile, dark hair slightly messy like he’d just run his hands through it, and eyes that didn’t just look they lingered. She noticed him immediately, and judging by the way his gaze locked onto hers across the room, the feeling was mutual.

She turned away fast, sipping her drink like she hadn’t just felt her heartbeat trip over itself.

“Don’t,” she muttered under her breath. “Not tonight.”

But somehow, he was already closer.

“Hey,” Chris said, sliding into the spot next to her like it had been reserved. “You look like you’re thinking about leaving.”

She let out a small laugh. “I was.”

“Was?”

There it was, that smile again. Dangerous.

She shook her head, more to herself than to him. “This isn’t my fault, you know.”

“What isn’t?”

“This,” she gestured vaguely between them, the music, the charged air. “You showing up, looking like that, making it impossible to stick to my plan.”

Chris leaned in just slightly, just enough for his voice to cut through the noise without being loud. “So you’re blaming me?”

“I’m saying,” she smirked, meeting his eyes now, “if something happens tonight, I’m not taking responsibility.”

He laughed, low and warm. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting you.”

The song changed, something louder, faster. The crowd surged toward the dance floor, pulling them into the chaos. Somewhere between the flashing lights and the rhythm, her hand found his, and neither of them let go. Maybe she’d regret it in the morning. Maybe she wouldn’t. But as Chris spun her under the lights, both of them laughing like they’d known each other longer than a few minutes, one thing felt certain… If this was a mistake, it wasn’t hers alone. And honestly?

She wasn’t sorry. The air between them lingered in that quiet, almost fragile way like if either of them moved too fast, it might break.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing back toward the door of the party. The music was still pulsing faintly through the walls, but it felt distant now. Less important.

Chris followed her gaze, then looked back at her. There was something more certain in his expression this time, like he’d made up his mind about something.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Yeah?”

He hesitated for half a second, just enough to make it real. “Let’s leave.”

She blinked. “Leave… like, the party?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, but his eyes stayed on hers. “It’s loud, it’s crowded, and honestly…” a small smile tugged at his lips, “I’d rather be anywhere else if it means I get to keep talking to you.”

Her heart did that annoying, fluttery thing again.

“You just met me,” she said, but there was no real resistance in her voice anymore.

“And?” Chris stepped a little closer. “You were already about to walk away from all this anyway. I’m just… offering a better option.”

She studied him for a moment, like she was trying to figure out if this was reckless or exactly what she needed. Probably both.

“This is a bad idea,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he agreed easily.

“And I’m definitely not supposed to say yes.”

“Probably not.”

She exhaled, shaking her head with a small, disbelieving smile. “You’re really not helping your case.”

“I’m not trying to,” he said. “I just don’t want the night to end in there when it could be… something else.”

That did it. She looked back at the door one more time… The flashing lights, the noise, the version of the night she thought she wanted.

Then she looked at him.

“Okay,” she said.

Chris’s smile widened, softer this time. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, stepping closer. “Let’s go.”

He reached for her hand again, more naturally now, like it had always been that simple. She didn’t hesitate this time, her fingers slipped into his without a second thought. They didn’t say anything else as they started walking. No big declarations. No overthinking. Just the quiet hum of the city, the warmth of his hand in hers, and the shared understanding that whatever this was, it didn’t belong back inside that party.

And as they disappeared down the street together, one thing felt certain. If this was a mistake… They were both choosing it.

[envythel3avess]

WEST COAST PRAYER

a matt sturniolo imagine

inspired by the song "west coast prayer" by nessa barrett

܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ .⊹ .

The first time you saw him, the sky looked like it was confessing something. Pink bled into orange over the coastline, waves crashing in a rhythm that felt almost holy, like the ocean itself was whispering a prayer. You sat on the cold sand, knees pulled to your chest, trying to quiet the storm in your head. That’s when he walked up.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, voice soft, like he already knew you might say no.

You shrugged, not looking at him. “It’s a free beach.”

He laughed under his breath and dropped down beside you anyway. For a while, neither of you spoke. Just the sound of the tide. Just the wind tangling your hair.

“I come here when things get loud,” he said eventually.

You glanced at him then. Blue eyes. Tired, but kind. Like he’d seen things he didn’t talk about.

“Me too,” you admitted.

That was how it started. You didn’t exchange numbers that night. No promises, no expectations. Just two strangers sitting on the edge of something vast, sharing silence like it meant something. But the next night, he was there again. And the night after that.

—

Matt never asked too many questions, which made you trust him more than anyone who ever had. He didn’t push when you went quiet. Didn’t try to fix things when your voice cracked mid-sentence. He just stayed. Some nights, you’d talk about everything… Childhood memories, dreams you were too scared to chase, the kind of love you weren’t sure you deserved. Other nights, you’d say nothing at all. And somehow, that felt even more intimate.

“You ever feel like you’re apologizing for existing?” you asked one evening, staring out at the horizon.

Matt picked at the hem of his hoodie. “Yeah,” he said. “All the time.”

You swallowed hard. “I thought I was the only one.”

He shook his head, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “Not anymore.”

—

It wasn’t supposed to turn into something more. That’s what you told yourself. But then his hand brushed yours one night, and neither of you pulled away. Then you started leaning into him when the wind got too cold. Then he started remembering little things…Your favorite songs, the way you hated the dark, how you always needed something sweet after crying. And suddenly, he wasn’t just someone you met at the beach. He was the only place that felt safe.

—

“I don’t think I’m good for you,” you said one night, voice barely audible over the waves.

Matt frowned. “Where’s that coming from?”

“You deserve someone… lighter. Someone who doesn’t feel like this all the time.”

He turned to face you fully, eyes steady. “You think I don’t feel it too?”

You shook your head, tears threatening. “Not like me.”

“Then let me try to understand,” he said. “Don’t shut me out before I even get the chance.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him and something inside you broke open.

“Why do you care so much?” you whispered.

His answer came without hesitation.

“Because it’s you.”

—

The first time he kissed you, it wasn’t fireworks. It was quieter than that. Softer. Like a prayer whispered under your breath, hoping someone might hear it. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away tears you didn’t realize had fallen. And when your lips met, it felt like the ocean had gone still like the world had paused just long enough for you to believe in something again.

—

But love like that doesn’t come without fear.

You started pulling away. Answering texts slower. Skipping nights at the beach. Telling yourself it was better to leave before he could. Before he saw all of you. Before he realized you were too much.

—

He found you anyway. Of course he did.

“You can’t just disappear,” Matt said, breathless, like he’d been searching for you.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?” he asked, frustration creeping in.

“From me.”

He stepped closer, shaking his head. “I don’t need protection from you. I need you to stop deciding what’s best for me.”

Tears spilled over before you could stop them. “I ruin things. I always do.”

Matt softened then, reaching for your hands, holding them like they were something fragile and sacred all at once.

“Maybe,” he said gently. “But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Your chest tightened.

“Why?”

He squeezed your hands, grounding you.

“Because loving you doesn’t feel like ruining,” he said. “It feels like… finally being honest.”

—

The waves crashed louder that night, wind whipping around you like the world was trying to pull you apart. But you stayed. You stayed when it got hard. You stayed when the fear crept in. And for the first time, you didn’t run from something good.

—

Later, with your head resting against his shoulder, you whispered, “Do you think this will last?”

Matt pressed a kiss to your hair, eyes on the horizon.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know it’s real.”

You let that settle in your chest. The uncertainty, the hope, the quiet kind of love that didn’t need to shout to be felt. The ocean kept moving. The sky faded into night. And somewhere between the sound of the waves and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you realized something: Maybe love wasn’t about being saved. Maybe it was about finding someone who would sit beside you in the dark…

…and stay long enough for the light to come back.

[envythel3avess]

THOUGHT I WAS SPECIAL TO YOU

a sturniolo triplet imagine

inspired by the song "special to you" by nessa barrett

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ ⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔

Your room was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet, heavy quiet. The kind that made everything in your chest feel louder. You sat curled up on your bed, staring at nothing, replaying everything over and over again. The way he used to look at you. The way he used to say your name. The way it all just… stopped.

A knock sounded, softer than usual. Then the door opened anyway.

“Okay, why does it feel illegal in here?” Nick’s voice filled the space, loud and immediate like always. You didn’t answer.

Chris stepped in behind him, already mid-sentence before he stopped. “…Oh.”

Matt didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, and his expression shifted instantly.

He walked in first. “Hey.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

Nick let out a short laugh. “That was actually painful to hear.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, that was bad. Like, historically bad.”

Still, no smile from you. That’s when they really got worried.

Matt sat down beside you slowly. “What happened?”

Your fingers twisted into your sleeves. “Nothing.”

Nick dropped onto the bed across from you. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

Your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. “I just… I really thought I was special to him.”

Silence filled the room.

Chris blinked. “Nate?”

You nodded.

Nick’s jaw tightened immediately. “You are special. That doesn’t just expire because he started acting stupid.”

You shook your head, tears already building. “But it feels like it does. He used to care about everything, every little thing I said. And now it’s like I don’t even cross his mind.”

Matt’s gaze dropped for a second, then back to you. “Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you whispered. “That’s the problem. Nothing happened. He just… stopped.”

Chris frowned, sitting down on your other side. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t have to,” you said, voice cracking. “It still hurts.”

Nick leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What did he do?”

You hesitated, then let it out. “He made me feel like I mattered. Like I was different. And I believed it.” Your breath hitched. “I let him get close. I let him kiss me. And I ignored the feeling that something was off because I didn’t want it to end.”

Chris’s expression softened immediately. “Hey…”

You shook your head quickly. “I should’ve known. I let him fool me… twice, honestly. And now I just feel stupid.”

Matt’s voice was quiet but firm. “You’re not stupid.”

“It feels like it.”

Nick shook his head. “No. It makes you someone who trusted him. That’s not the same thing.”

You wiped at your face, frustrated. “Then why does it feel like I gave him everything and he just dropped me like it was nothing?”

Matt’s jaw tightened slightly. “Because he handled it wrong.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah. That’s on him, not you.”

You stared down at your hands. “It feels like he clipped my wings or something. Like I was finally… happy, and then it just got taken away.”

The room went quiet again. But this time, it wasn’t empty.

Chris leaned closer, bumping your shoulder. “You didn’t lose your wings.”

Nick added, softer than before, “He just doesn’t get to be the reason you use them.”

Matt nodded. “You’re still you. Nothing he did changes that.”

Your chest tightened, but not in the same way as before.

Chris pointed at you. “You’re still the same person who made him feel all of that in the first place.”

Nick smirked slightly. “Yeah, you didn’t magically downgrade overnight.”

Matt glanced at you, steady and calm. “You didn’t lose what made you special. He just stopped showing up the way he should have.”

Your eyes burned again, but you didn’t look away this time.

“Do you think he ever actually cared?” you asked quietly.

Matt answered first. “Yeah. I do.”

Chris nodded. “But caring and handling it right aren’t the same thing.”

Nick leaned back slightly. “And if he can’t keep showing up for you, then he doesn’t get access to you.”

That sat with you. Because it wasn’t about whether he once made you feel special. It was about the fact that he stopped, and expected nothing to change.

Chris suddenly flopped sideways, half into you. “Also, you’re not allowed to spiral alone. That’s a new rule.”

Nick rolled his eyes but stayed right where he was. “Yeah, unfortunately we live here.”

Matt didn’t move away either, his presence quiet but grounding. You let yourself lean into them a little. And for the first time since everything started hurting… You didn’t feel quite as broken.

[envythel3avess]

WHEN DID YOU GET HOT?!

a matt sturniolo imagine

based off the song "when did you get hot?" by sabrina carpenter

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

You didn’t notice it all at once.

That would’ve been easier.

Instead, it happened in quiet moments—the kind you almost miss if you’re not paying attention.

Matt had always been steady. Calm in a way that grounded everyone else, even when things got chaotic. He wasn’t loud about who he was—you just felt it. Observant, a little guarded, sarcastic when he wanted to be, but soft underneath it in a way he didn’t show everyone.

You were used to him.

That was the problem.

So when things started to feel… different, it didn’t make sense.

It was late, the two of you sitting on the floor of his room while the rest of the house buzzed faintly in the background. Music played low, barely there.

Matt sat across from you, one knee pulled up, sleeves covering his hands, phone forgotten beside him.

He was just watching you.

Not in a teasing way. Not distracted.

Just… there. Fully there.

“What?” you asked, your voice softer than you meant it to be.

“Nothing,” he said.

But he didn’t look away.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“You think too much and then go quiet.”

A small, almost amused exhale left him. “You always notice.”

“Well, yeah,” you said. “It’s you.”

Something about that made his expression shift, subtle, but real.

The room went quiet again, but not awkward. Just… heavy. Like something was building and neither of you knew who was supposed to break first.

And then you said it.

“When did you get hot?”

The second it left your mouth, you froze.

Matt blinked, like his brain had to catch up. “What?”

You dropped your gaze instantly. “Forget it. I didn’t—”

“No, you definitely did,” he said, sitting up a little straighter now. Not loud, not dramatic, just focused. “You just asked when I got hot.”

You covered your face. “I hate myself.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. Soft, a little disbelieving. “You think I’m hot?”

“Don’t make it a thing.”

“You made it a thing.”

“I know.”

Silence.

You peeked up at him, expecting him to be joking, to brush it off like everything else.

But he wasn’t.

He was looking at you differently now.

More serious. More… careful.

“You’ve never said anything like that before,” he said.

“Yeah, well…” you shrugged, trying to act like your heart wasn’t racing. “You’ve never been like this before.”

“Like what?”

You hesitated.

“Just… like this,” you repeated, quieter now.

He held your gaze, studying you the way he always did, like he was trying to understand something deeper than what you were saying.

And for a second, you saw it.

That flicker.

The way he got when something hit him all at once.

Overwhelmed, but not pulling away.

Leaning in.

“Why now?” he asked, voice softer.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I just noticed.”

Another pause.

Then he nodded slightly, like he was grounding himself.

“Okay,” he said.

You let out a small breath. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Something that makes this less embarrassing?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Great.”

“But…” he added, shifting a little closer without even realizing it. “I’m not mad about it.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Now he was closer.

Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, close enough that if either of you moved just a little.

You both noticed.

Of course you did.

Matt’s gaze dropped for a second, then came back up to your eyes. You could see him thinking again, weighing something, like he always did.

“What?” you whispered.

He shook his head slightly, almost to himself. “I’m trying not to overthink this.”

“That’s new.”

“Not really,” he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping through. “I just don’t usually say it out loud.”

Your heart was beating way too fast now.

“Then don’t think,” you said, before you could stop yourself.

That made him pause.

Really pause.

His eyes searched yours, like he was making sure you meant it.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, even though your breath caught. “Yeah.”

That was all it took.

He moved in slowly, like he was giving you time to pull away, like he’d stop the second you changed your mind.

But you didn’t.

So when his hand came up, brushing lightly against your jaw, grounding but gentle, your breath hitched.

And then he kissed you.

Soft at first. Careful.

Like he was still figuring out if this was real.

But when you didn’t pull away, when you leaned into him instead. Something shifted.

The hesitation melted.

His hand steadied, his other one finding your wrist, pulling you just slightly closer.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy.

It was intentional.

Like everything he felt, but never said.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. His forehead rested lightly against yours, both of you still catching your breath.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Then, quietly…

“…So,” he murmured, a small smile in his voice, “that answer your question?”

You let out a soft laugh, still a little dazed. “Yeah.”

A beat.

“Definitely didn’t help, though.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, eyes still on yours.

“Good”

[envythel3avess]

WE ALMOST BROKE UP AGAIN

a chris sturniolo imagine

based off the song "we almost broke up again" by sabrina carpenter

══════════════════════

The fight started over something stupid. It always did.

“You didn’t text me back,” you said, arms crossed, trying to sound colder than you felt.

Chris ran a hand through his hair, pacing your living room like he was trying to outrun the conversation. “I was busy. Not everything is about you.”

That did it.

“Wow. Okay.”

Silence fell hard between you, thick, suffocating, familiar. This wasn’t your first almost-breakup. It was just the latest version of the same story: too much emotion, too many words, both of you refusing to be the first to soften.

You grabbed your jacket. “Maybe we should just, take a break or something.”

Chris stopped pacing.

For a second, you thought he’d agree. That he’d nod, let you walk out, and this time the “almost” would finally drop off.

Instead, he exhaled sharply. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what I mean right now.”

“Yeah, you do,” he said, quieter now. “You’re just mad.”

“And you’re not?”

“I am,” he admitted. “But I’m not about to let us end over something this dumb. Again.”

The word hung there, again.

You looked at him, really looked this time. The frustration in his eyes, sure, but underneath it, something softer. Nervous. Like he was scared you might actually leave this time.

“I hate that we do this,” you said, voice cracking despite your best effort. “It’s like we keep getting right to the edge and then…”

“And then we pull back,” he finished. “Because we don’t actually want to fall.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “It doesn’t feel like that in the moment.”

“I know.” He stepped closer, slower this time, like approaching something fragile. “But every time you say we should break up, it freaks me out. Even if I know you don’t fully mean it.”

“I don’t,” you whispered. “I just… don’t know how to say ‘I’m hurt’ without making it sound like the end of the world.”

Chris softened, reaching for your hands. “Then say that instead.”

You hesitated, but didn’t pull away.

“I’m hurt,” you tried, quieter now. “When you disappear like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “I should’ve texted. I just get in my head sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

There it was, the shift. The moment where the storm started to break. No slammed doors. No dramatic goodbye. Just two people standing in the aftermath, realizing they’d almost done it again.

Chris squeezed your hands gently. “We’re okay, right?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

A pause.

“Barely,” you added.

He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “Hey, I’ll take barely over broken.”

You leaned into him, heart still racing but steadying. Because somehow, you always found your way back, right at the last second.

Right before almost became real.

[envythel3avess]

ALREADY OVER

a chris sturniolo imagine

based on the song "already over" by sabrina carpenter

➽─────────────────────❥

It had been three weeks since you and chris ended things… if you could even call it that. There was no real breakup, no clean cut. Just a quiet, mutual understanding that something between them wasn’t working anymore. But not working didn’t mean not there, and that was the problem.

You still would reached for her phone every morning, half-asleep, expecting his name at the top of your screen. Still caught yourself thinking, I should tell Chris this, whenever something funny happened. Still remembered the exact way he used to say your name, like it meant something more than just a word. It was exhausting, missing someone who wasn’t really gone.

Chris made it worse without even trying.

He didn’t disappear.

He lingered.

A text every few days. A reply to your story. Just enough to remind you he was still there, but not enough to be with you.

“Did you see that video?”
“This reminded me of you.”
“Hope you’re good.”

Hope you’re good.

You hated that one the most.

The first time he showed up again in person, it wasn’t planned. Of course it wasn’t. It never was with them. Y/n walked into a friend’s apartment, laughing about something that suddenly didn’t matter the second you saw him sitting on the couch.

Chris looked up at the same time.

And just like that, everything came rushing back.

“Hey,” he said, like no time had passed at all.

“Hey.”

That was it.

But it felt like everything.

You guys fell back into it too easily. Sitting next to each other. Talking like you used to. Smiling at the same dumb jokes. It would’ve been comforting if it didn’t hurt so much. Because nothing had changed. And somehow, it still felt like it had. Later, when most people had left, it was just the two of you in the kitchen. The air felt heavier there. Quieter, more honest.

“This is weird,” you said, trying to laugh it off.

Chris nodded. “Yeah… a little.”

A little. You looked at him, really looked this time, searching for something, an answer, a sign, anything that would make this make sense.

“Why does it feel like nothing ended?” Y/n asked. He didn’t answer right away. And that silence told you more than anything else could.

“I miss you,” he finally said.

It hit you harder than she expected. Not because you didn’t feel the same. But because it wasn’t enough.

“You miss me,” y/n repeated, your voice quieter now. “But you didn’t stay.”

Chris exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I just… I don’t know how to make it work.” And there it was. The same answer, the same problem, nothing had changed.

You should’ve walked away then. That would’ve been the strong thing to do. The smart thing. Instead, you stayed. Because when Chris reached for your hand, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to anymore, you didn’t pull away. And when he looked at you like he used to, like you were still his, and you believed it for just a second. That was all it took.

After that night, it got worse. Because now you knew, you felt that everything between them was still there. The connection. The pull. The way he fit so easily into your life, but so did the uncertainty, the inconsistency. The way he could be all in one moment and distant the next.

“You’re confusing me,” y/n admitted one night over the phone, pacing her room.

“I’m not trying to,” Chris said.

“I know. That’s the problem.”

There was a pause.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” he added.

Your chest tightened.

“You already did,” you said softly. “You just won’t let it feel like that.”

That night, y/n sat on her bed, staring at their messages.

Every “I miss you.”
Every “I wish things were different.”
Every almost.

You realized something then, something you had been avoiding this entire time. You weren’t holding onto Chris because things were good. You were holding onto him because it almost was there. Because it felt like something unfinished. Something that could’ve worked, if the timing was better, if he tried harder, if something, anything, was different. But it wasn’t.

Y/n’s phone buzzed again.

Chris.

“Can I see you?”

Your heart reacted before your mind could.

Of course you wanted to.

That was the problem.

Y/n stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the screen. This was the part that mattered. Not the missing him. Not the memories. Not even the love that still lingered between them.

This.

The choice.

To keep going in circles…

or finally step out of it.

Your chest ached as you typed, erased, and typed again. Because letting go of Chris didn’t feel like choosing peace. It felt like losing something that still felt right, even if it wasn’t.

Finally, you locked your phone and set it face down beside the bed.

No reply.

Not this time.

And it hurt.

God, it hurt.

Because for the first time, you weren’t just losing him.

You were choosing to let him go.

Even though every part of you still wanted to go back.

[envythel3avess]

GRAVE

a matt sturniolo imagine

based off the song "grave" by nessa barrett

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You didn’t want to go to the party. Not really. But your friends insisted, and by the time you stepped into the dimly lit living room, the bass of the music already pounding in your chest, you felt the weight of every wrong choice you’d ever made. That’s when you saw him.

Matt.

Leaning against the wall, hoodie slouched, eyes scanning the room like he was tired of pretending to belong. There was something dangerous about him, something raw, something that made your chest tighten even before he noticed you. And he did notice you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low but steady, cutting through the noise of the room. “You look like you shouldn’t be here either.”

You smiled, a little bitterly. “I could say the same about you.”

He smirked, a slow grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I like that. Honesty’s rare these days.”

You didn’t know why, but you wanted to talk to him. More than that, you wanted to know him, like if you could understand him, maybe you could understand yourself too.

—

Hours passed. You found yourselves in a quieter corner, the party fading into a blur behind you. He asked about your life, the things you hid from the world, the ways you felt stuck. And somehow, without trying, he told you his own truths, darker things you weren’t sure anyone could handle.

“You carry a lot,” he said, eyes soft but direct.

“And you?” you whispered.

He leaned closer. “I’m not as empty as I look, but I’ve been close.”

The confession made your chest tighten. It wasn’t a brag. It wasn’t a game. It was real. And suddenly, being near him felt dangerous, but in a way you wanted.

—

Later, on the balcony, the city lights blurred beneath you. You were silent, wrapped in a fragile comfort. Your shoulder brushed his, and he didn’t move away.

“Do you ever feel like you’re just… sinking?” you asked.

“Every day,” he admitted. “But sometimes, when someone looks at you like you matter… it keeps you afloat.”

You turned toward him, and in the dark, his eyes caught yours. For a moment, the world, the music, the flashing lights, the crowded rooms, didn’t exist. Just you and him, two broken things leaning against each other, fragile but alive. Then his hand found yours. Gentle at first, hesitant, like he was afraid you’d pull away. But you didn’t. And when he kissed you, it was slow, raw, and entirely consuming. You felt everything all at once. The fear, the longing, the hope. When you pulled back, your foreheads rested together. “I don’t know how this… works,” you whispered.

He smiled softly. “We figure it out. Together.”

And in that moment, the chaos of your life, the heaviness you carried, didn’t feel quite so suffocating. Because maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry it alone.

[envythel3avess]

FWB

a chris sturniolo imagine

based off the song “friends with benefits" by jxdn

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You set the rule before anything even started.

“No feelings,” you said, like it was easy. “Just… fun. That’s it.”

Chris didn’t hesitate. He leaned back, arms crossed, a half-smile on his face like he already knew something you didn’t.

“Yeah,” he said. “I can do that.”

You should’ve known better.

Because Chris wasn’t careless, he was worse. He was the kind of person who made things feel real without ever saying they were. The kind who remembered little things, who looked at you just a second too long, who stood just a little too close. And you let it happen. It started small, movie nights that turned into you falling asleep on his shoulder, his hoodie somehow always ending up on you, his hand brushing yours like it was accidental. Until one night, it wasn’t. You were sitting on his bed, arguing over a song playing through his speaker—something by lil skies, loud enough to fill the silence neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

“You have terrible taste,” you teased.

He laughed. “You keep coming over, though.”

“Yeah, for your personality.”

“Right.”

There it was again, that look. The one that made your stomach flip in a way that definitely broke the rules.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you muttered.

“Like what?”

“Like… that.”

He tilted his head, studying you, and for once he didn’t joke it off. The music kept playing, but it felt far away now, like everything had narrowed down to just the space between you.

“Maybe you should stop staying,” Chris said quietly.

You swallowed. “Maybe you should stop asking me to.”

A pause.

Then, softer, “I don’t ask.”

“You don’t have to.”

That did it.

Something shifted in his expression, less teasing, more real, and before you could overthink it, he moved closer. Not fast, not sudden. Slow enough that your heart had time to start racing, that you could’ve pulled away if you wanted to. You didn’t. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, hesitating for half a second like he was giving you one last out.

“Still no feelings?” he murmured.

Your voice came out quieter than you expected. “Still no feelings.” It was a lie. Both of you knew it. And then he kissed you. It wasn’t rushed, it was worse than that. Slow, intentional, like he wanted to feel every second of it. His lips moved against yours carefully at first, but when you kissed him back, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening it until it stopped feeling like something casual. It felt like something you wouldn’t be able to undo. Your fingers tangled in his hoodie, and for a second, you forgot every rule you made. Forgot why you made them in the first place. All that existed was him. When you finally pulled back, your lips were still barely apart, your breathing uneven. Chris didn’t move away, his forehead rested against yours, his hand still holding you there like he didn’t trust himself to let go.

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he said.

Neither of you moved. Instead, he kissed you again, softer this time, but somehow more dangerous. Like he wasn’t trying to prove anything anymore. Like he just wanted you. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed over your lip, lingering.

“We can still pretend,” he said quietly.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and realized pretending was the one thing you couldn’t do anymore.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

But you both knew….

This was never just friends with benefits.

[envythel3avess]

REPUTATION

a chris sturniolo imagine

based off the song "reputation" by jxdn

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Chris heard his name before he even saw you.

“—I mean, Chris Sturniolo? You know his reputation.”

The group around you laughed, and that was enough. He stepped into the circle without hesitation. Everyone parted instantly when they noticed him. The room seemed to hold its breath. Your words caught mid-sentence when you looked up.

“I know you know my reputation,” Chris said, his voice calm but sharp, eyes locked on yours. “But you don’t know a thing about me.”

You straightened, refusing to back down. “Maybe you give people a reason to think they do.”

A few people shifted uncomfortably. Chris didn’t care. He was focused only on you.

“You drag my name into every conversation,” he said, taking a step closer. “And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Maybe it’s hard not to when you act like that,” you shot back, heart racing.

Another step. Closer.

“You can’t keep my name out your mouth,” he murmured, quieter this time, like a promise.

Before anyone could react, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the crowd. Down the hallway. Into a quiet room. Door shut behind you. The music and chatter outside faded to nothing.

You faced him, breath uneven. “What now?”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, his eyes dark. “Now… you see the real me.”

Then he didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, cupped your face, and kissed you.

It was sudden, demanding, like every word unsaid between you exploded at once. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hands tangled in his hoodie, holding on, matching the intensity.

When he pulled back slightly, it wasn’t far, just enough to catch your breath. “I know you know my reputation,” he murmured against your lips.

You didn’t answer.

His lips were back on yours in a heartbeat, softer this time, tracing, teasing, exploring, like he couldn’t get enough. You gasped, and his teeth caught yours just a little, playful, teasing, hungry.

He pulled back again, hands resting lightly on your shoulders, thumb brushing your jaw. “You drag my name into every conversation…” he whispered.

You swallowed hard. “Maybe I like saying it.”

Chris smirked. “You can’t keep my name out your mouth.”

And then, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath, his lips brushing yours one more time, he murmured with that teasing, confident tone:

“Girl… I’m in your mouth right now.”

He kissed you again, this time longer, slower, hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close. The tension, the reputation, the whispers outside, it all melted. Just you, him, and the weight of every word you hadn’t said. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, staring at each other, the room heavy with something unspoken but electric. Outside, people could keep talking. But in here… you finally knew why he had a reputation.

[envythel3avess]

WHY ARE YOU HERE?

a chris sturniolo imagine

based off the song "why are you here" by mgk

∘₊✧─── ──── ──── ───✧₊∘

You almost turned around three times before you even made it to the door.

The first time was in the car, engine still running, your hands tight on the wheel as you stared at the house like it was daring you to come closer. The second was halfway up the sidewalk, when laughter spilled out and reminded you how easy it would be to just… not go in. The third was right at the door, your hand hovering, your chest tight, your thoughts circling one name you hadn’t been able to shake for weeks. Chris. That was the real reason you were here. Not the party. Not your friends convincing you. Not some sudden burst of confidence.

Him.

Before you could change your mind again, you pushed the door open.

Noise, heat, music, everything hit at once. People packed shoulder to shoulder, voices overlapping, lights too bright. You stepped inside, trying to blend in, already feeling like you didn’t belong.

And then

“Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

You froze.

You didn’t have to look to know it was him. But you did anyway. Chris stood a few feet away, like he’d been waiting without admitting it. Hoodie, messy hair, eyes already locked on you in that way that made everything else feel… less important.

“I almost didn’t,” you said.

He nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah. I figured.”

There was a pause was short, but heavy.

“So,” he said, quieter now, “why are you here?”

You could’ve dodged it.

You didn’t.

“Because I missed you.”

Something in his expression shifted instantly.

“Yeah?” he asked.

You nodded.

And that was all it took. His hand came up to your face, fingers warm against your jaw as he pulled you in and then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t cautious. It was immediate. Like he’d been holding it back too long.

You barely had a second to react before you kissed him back just as hard, your hands gripping his hoodie, pulling him closer like you needed to make sure he was real. The noise around you disappeared, drowned out by the rush in your ears and the way his lips moved against yours, familiar but more intense than you remembered.

“God,” he muttered against your mouth, breath uneven. “You don’t just get to show up and say that—”

You cut him off by kissing him again.

Harder.

That earned a quiet, surprised laugh from him, but it turned into something else just as quickly when he kissed you back, slower for a second, then deeper, his hand sliding from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you there like he didn’t trust the moment not to disappear.

You shifted closer without thinking, your body pressed against his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Still think I shouldn’t have come?” you murmured against his lips.

“Not even a little,” he said and then kissed you again.

This time it lingered.

Slower, heavier, like neither of you was rushing but neither of you was stopping either. Your breathing mixed, uneven, and every small movement, his thumb brushing your jaw, your hand sliding up his chest felt amplified. The room suddenly felt too crowded. Too many people. Too much noise. Not enough space for this.

“Come here,” he said quietly, grabbing your hand.

You followed instantly.

Through the crowd, down the hallway, past closed doors, you barely registered any of it. All you could focus on was his hand holding yours, steady and sure, like he wasn’t letting you drift away again.

He pushed open a door and pulled you inside, shutting it behind you. The difference was immediate. Dim light. Muffled music. Space to breathe. But not for long. You were on him again before either of you said a word. Your lips crashed into his, faster this time, like the second you had privacy everything snapped loose. He backed up a step from the force of it, a soft laugh escaping him before it disappeared into the kiss.

“Missed me that much?” he murmured.

You answered by kissing him deeper.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left between you. The kiss slowed for a second just enough to feel it, to actually feel him again before picking up again, more deliberate, more intense. Your hands moved to his hair, tugging slightly, and he exhaled sharply against your lips.

“Yeah,” he said under his breath. “I missed you too.”

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Every kiss felt like it made up for another moment you spent avoiding him. Softer ones that barely brushed, followed by deeper ones that pulled you right back in. The kind that made you forget where you were, what you were supposed to be thinking about, why you ever left in the first place.

“You disappeared,” he murmured against your mouth, his forehead resting briefly against yours.

“I know,” you whispered.

He didn’t respond with words this time.

Just another kiss, slower, more intentional, his hand sliding up your back, holding you close like he meant it. Like this wasn’t temporary. Like you weren’t temporary. The tension between you unraveled from there, piece by piece, replaced by something softer but no less intense. Every touch lingered, every glance held a second longer than necessary.

It wasn’t rushed.

Just inevitable.

Time blurred in the quiet of that room, the party outside fading into nothing.

And when things finally slowed, when your breathing evened out and the moment settled into something calmer, you found yourself still close to him, closer than before, but in a different way now.

Chris glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips, his hand still loosely holding yours.

“For the record,” he said softly, “I’m really glad you showed up.”

You smiled back, your head still spinning slightly.

“Me too.”

And this time, when you thought about leaving. You didn’t want to.

[envythel3avess]

MY EX’S BEST FRIEND

a chris sturniolo imagine

based on the song "my ex’s best friend" by mgk

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The first time I saw Chris, he was laughing at something stupid in the kitchen, something my ex had said. That’s how it always starts. You don’t notice the person who’s about to change everything.

Until you do. My ex dragged me to that party like he always did, hand tight around my wrist, like I was something he owned instead of someone he loved. Chris noticed. I caught him noticing. His smile faded for half a second, just enough for me to feel seen.

“Hey,” Chris said later, leaning beside me. “You good?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Always.”

He didn’t believe me.

Chris wasn’t supposed to matter. He was off-limits. Wrong in every way that should’ve made this easy to ignore. But wrong started to feel like oxygen.

It started with late-night texts. Jokes turning into real conversations. “You okay?” becoming “I wish I was there.” He listened really listened, and it made everything else in my life feel louder, harsher, emptier.

“You deserve better,” he told me one night.

“Everyone says that.”

“I’m not everyone.”

That line stuck with me. So did the way my heart raced every time his name lit up my phone. The breakup came quietly. No fight, no explosion. Just the slow realization that I’d already left long before I said the words out loud. Chris showed up the next day.

“Is this messed up?” I asked, standing on my porch.

“Yeah,” he said honestly.

I nodded. “Okay.”

“But I don’t care.”

That’s when everything snapped into place. He stepped closer, slow enough that I could’ve stopped him, but I didn’t. His hand brushed mine first, like he was asking permission without saying it. My breath caught when his fingers laced with mine.

“You sure?” he asked softly.

Instead of answering, I pulled him in.

The first kiss wasn’t rushed, it was careful, like he was memorizing me. His hand slid to my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek, and when our lips met, everything else just… disappeared. No past, no guilt, no noise. Just him.

It was soft at first.

Then it wasn’t.

I kissed him back harder, months of swallowed feelings finally spilling out. He exhaled against me, pulling me closer, one hand pressing into my waist like he was afraid I might disappear. I felt his heartbeat fast, uneven, and it matched mine perfectly.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he murmured, barely pulling away.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because you weren’t mine.”

The way he said it made my stomach flip.

“And now?” I asked.

His answer was another kiss deeper this time, less careful. My hands found his hoodie, gripping the fabric as he backed me gently against the door. He hesitated for half a second, giving me space to stop him.

I didn’t.

I pulled him back in.

Every kiss felt like something breaking and rebuilding at the same time. His lips moved slower now, like he was trying to make it last, like he understood that this wasn’t just a moment, it was a turning point.

“You’re not just someone I’m not supposed to want,” he said against my lips. “You’re the only one I do.”

I should’ve felt guilty.

Maybe a part of me did.

But when he kissed me again, soft, lingering, like a promise, I knew I wasn’t going back.

Not when forward felt like this.

[envythel3avess]

DIE FOR

a matt sturniolo imagine

based off the song "die for" by maggie lindemann

•┈┈┈┈⋆⋅☆⋅⋆┈┈┈┈•┈┈┈┈⋆⋅☆⋅⋆┈┈┈•

The living room was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV. Neither of them were really watching it. Y/n was lying on the carpet with her chin resting on her arms, scrolling through her phone. On the couch behind her, Matt was half-sitting, half laying across the cushions, lazily tossing a small rubber ball toward the ceiling.

He caught it. Then missed the next throw completely. The ball bounced off the couch and rolled across the floor.

She glanced up. “Nice.”

Matt leaned forward to grab it. “Relax.”

“You’re 1 for 4.”

“I wasn’t trying.”

“That makes it worse.”

Matt tossed it again and caught it, then looked down at her with a small, satisfied nod.

“See.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled before looking back at her phone.

The quiet stretched for a minute.

Unfortunately, the same thought kept circling her brain again.

Find who you die for. That’s who you live for.

She’d heard the line in die for by Maggie Lindemann earlier that week, and it had been stuck in her head ever since.

Mostly because every time she thought about it, the same person popped up.

Which was… inconvenient.

Matt’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

She frowned slightly. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is,” he said. “You get this face.”

“What face?”

“That one.”

She turned onto her back to look up at him. “You’re annoying.”

“Yet you’re still here.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

After a moment, she sighed and sat up, crossing her legs on the carpet.

“Can I ask you something?”

Matt shrugged, still tossing the ball.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Is it weird?”

“…maybe.”

“Then yeah.”

She hesitated.

“Do you think everyone has one person?” she asked.

Matt caught the ball and paused.

“One person for what?”

“You know,” she said. “The person they’d do anything for.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“You mean like the person you would like die for?”

Her stomach flipped.

“…yeah.”

Matt thought about it for a second before tossing the ball again.

“Probably.”

She stared at him. “That’s your answer?”

“What?”

“Probably?” she said. “That’s it?”

He shrugged. “You asked my opinion.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Thank you.”

She shook her head but couldn’t help laughing a little.

Then she asked quietly, “Do you have one?”

Matt didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he missed the catch again and the ball dropped beside him.

He ignored it.

“Yeah,” he said.

Her heart skipped.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She tried to sound casual. “Who?”

Matt looked at her like the answer should’ve been obvious.

“You really don’t know?”

Her chest tightened. “Know what?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You,” he said.

For a second she just stared at him.

“…what?”

“You’re the person I’d do anything for,” he said simply. “That’s the question, right?”

Her heart started racing.

“Matt,” she said slowly, “that’s a really serious thing to say.”

“Yeah.”

“And you just said it like that.”

He shrugged a little. “Still true.”

The room felt quieter suddenly.

She swallowed.

“Why were you even thinking about that?” he asked.

She hesitated.

Then admitted softly, “Because every time I think about it… I think about you.”

For once, Matt didn’t have a sarcastic response ready.

He just looked at her.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think… I’m in love with you.”

The words felt terrifying once they were out.

But Matt didn’t laugh.

Instead, a small smile slowly appeared on his face.

“Good,” he said quietly.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

He stood up from the couch and stepped closer until he was standing right in front of her.

“Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too.”

Her heart practically stopped.

“Pretty sure?” she said nervously.

Matt smirked faintly.

“I’m trying not to sound dramatic.”

She laughed under her breath.

“You just said you’d die for me.”

“Fair point.”

For a second neither of them moved.

Then Matt reached out and gently pulled her to her feet.

They were standing close now—closer than they’d ever been before.

“You know,” he said quietly, “this is the part where people usually kiss.”

Her face warmed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Just saying.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

“Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The teasing look on his face softened.

“I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

And this time he didn’t say it casually.

He leaned down and kissed her.

Soft at first, like he was making sure it was real.

Then she kissed him back, and suddenly all the nervous energy between them disappeared.

When they finally pulled apart, Matt rested his forehead lightly against hers.

[envythel3avess]

APARTMENT

a matt sturniolo imagine

based off the song "apartment" by presley regier

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Y/n sat cross-legged on the couch, her coffee long gone cold. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. Every time Matt left, the sound of the world outside seemed to vanish with him. The hum of the fridge, the distant traffic, even the faint creak of the floorboards, all muted, hollowed out by his absence. She stared at the empty chair where he had been sitting just an hour ago. His jacket was still draped over the back, the faint scent of him lingering like a memory she didn’t want to let go. The truth was simple: her apartment wasn’t really hers when he was around. With him, it was warm and messy in all the right ways. Boxes were no longer obstacles, they were shared projects. Coffee cups were no longer just hers—they were ours. Laughter bounced off the walls, soft and endless, filling spaces she hadn’t realized were empty before.

And then he was gone.

Y/n pressed her palms to her face, trying to hold on to the warmth that had vanished minutes ago. Every time he left, the apartment shrank a little, became too quiet, too still, a reminder that the world didn’t feel right without him there.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Matt: “Miss you already. I didn’t even make it to the elevator.”

Her chest tightened. She typed back before thinking: “It’s too quiet here without you.”

Minutes later, a knock on the door. Her heart leapt. She opened it to find him standing there, rain dampening his hair, eyes smiling like he knew exactly what she needed.

“I couldn’t let it be quiet,” he said, shrugging off his coat. “Not for a night.”

And just like that, the apartment breathed again. Warmth returned, laughter returned, and the quiet became nothing more than a memory.

Because some places, y/n realized, only feel like home when the right person is in them. And her apartment, messy, small, imperfect… was alive again.

[envythel3avess]

TYLER DURDEN

a matt sturniolo imagine

based off the song "tyler durden" by madison beer

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦

The first time she realized it, the line from Tyler Durden was playing through her headphones.

I’m in love with a fantasy.

Y/n paused the song and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom.

“Yeah,” she whispered to herself. “That sounds about right.”

On her phone screen was a paused video of Matt Sturniolo. He was mid-laugh, leaning toward the camera like he always did, eyes bright and messy hair falling into his face.

Y/n knew it was stupid. Millions of people watched him. Millions. And yet sometimes, when she watched the videos late at night, it almost felt like he was talking directly to her. Like she knew him. Which, of course, she didn’t. Still… the feeling stayed.

That night she fell asleep with the song playing again.

Somewhere between the second verse and the chorus, everything changed.

“Are you gonna keep staring or actually say something?” y/n blinked.

She was sitting across from someone at a small diner booth. And the person across from her was Matt.

Not on a screen.

Not in a video.

Right there.

Her brain stalled.

“Matt?” she said.

“Yes” he replied with a small grin.

The diner lights glowed softly above them, and outside the windows the city looked quiet and dark like it was the middle of the night. Y/n’s heart was racing so fast she felt dizzy. “How am I here?” she asked. Matt shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You came.” That answer somehow felt normal in the moment, even though it made zero sense. They talked for what felt like hours. About random things; Music, food, and stupid internet drama. Matt teased her when she got nervous, and she laughed more than she expected to. It felt… easy. Like they’d known each other for a long time. Eventually they left the diner and started walking down the empty street together.

“So,” Matt said, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. “You watch our videos a lot.”

Y/n groaned.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m some obsessed fan.”

Matt laughed.

“You said it, not me.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. The city lights reflected in puddles on the pavement as they walked. For a moment y/n thought about how strange this all was. But the thought faded quickly. Being here with him felt too real. Too good. They stopped on a quiet bridge overlooking the city.

Matt leaned against the railing, looking out at the lights below.

“You ever build a version of someone in your head?” he asked suddenly.

Y/n frowned slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… you see someone online,” he said slowly. “And you imagine what it’d be like if you actually met them.”

She felt her stomach twist.

“Maybe.”

“And in that version,” he continued, “they like you back.”

The words hung in the air between them.

Y/n looked down at the water below the bridge.

“That’s kind of depressing,” she admitted.

Matt shrugged.

“It happens all the time.”

She finally looked back at him.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “But it’s not real.”

Matt gave a small, almost sad smile.

“Sometimes people fall in love with the idea of someone,” he said.

His eyes met hers.

“A version of them that only exists in their head.”

Y/n’s chest tightened.

Because she knew exactly what he meant. She watched his videos. She laughed at his jokes. She imagined what it’d be like to actually know him. But in real life? He didn’t know she existed. And even if he did… it wouldn’t be like this. Everything began to fade y/n woke up in her bed. Her headphones were still in. The song Tyler Durden was playing again, right at the line she remembered.

I’m in love with a fantasy ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆