𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 @midnightwiththedead - Tumblr Blog

•(she/her)

•agagaggagagagagagagagagaggaga

•currently writing: Lavender in the Crossfire (Nick x Mafia!oc), Cool For The Summer (Nick x male OC), This Could Be Us (Nick x male OC), Daddy, Daddy (Nick x DILF!oc)

•completed: ANON (Nick x male OC)

#fanfic #author #sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #xplr #romance #Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #mafia romance #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x male reader #nicolas sturniolo #original character

BRUH I SAW THE BEST NICK EDIT TODAY AND EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE IT. THIS EDIT IS NOT MINE AND I AM IN NO WAY TAKING CREDIT FOR IT.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #gay #midnightwiththedead #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #edit

50 posts!

Oh wowie (´⊙ω⊙`)

#50 posts #tumblr milestone

Daddy, Daddy Part Five

The next morning came too quickly.

Nick woke up on the floor of Amelie’s room in a nest of blankets, his neck a little stiff. Amelie was already up and moving around, humming to herself as she gathered clothes.

“I’m hopping in the shower first,” she told him, tossing a pillow at his head. “Daddy’s probably making breakfast. You can use his bathroom if you need to brush your teeth or whatever. He won’t mind.”

Nick nodded sleepily, rubbing his eyes. “Okay. Thanks.”

A few minutes later, after Amelie disappeared into her bathroom, Nick grabbed his toiletry bag and headed down the hall. Clint’s bedroom door was open. He knocked lightly on the frame.

Clint appeared from inside the room, already dressed in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that somehow still looked unfairly good on him.

“Morning, Nick. Sleep alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. Amelie said I could use your bathroom to brush my teeth?”

Clint nodded easily. “Go for it. Door’s open, towels are clean. Help yourself to anything in there.”

He gave Nick a warm smile and headed downstairs, Remy trotting after him like always.

Nick stepped into Clint’s bathroom. It felt strangely intimate — dark wood tones, a big walk-in shower, and the faint scent of Clint’s cologne still lingering in the air. He stood at the sink, pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste, and started brushing like normal.

The door to the bedroom was still open behind him. He didn’t think much of it.

Until he glanced up into the mirror and saw movement in the bedroom.

Clint had come back upstairs.

And he was changing.

Nick’s hand froze mid-brush as Clint casually pulled his white t-shirt off, back facing the bathroom doorway. Those broad shoulders and smooth, muscular back were on full display again, the same view that had wrecked him last night, but brighter now in the morning light.

Then Clint turned slightly, reaching for a new shirt on the dresser.

Nick got a clear side view of his chest and abs. Smooth skin. Strong lines. The way his muscles shifted naturally as he moved. It was casual, domestic… and completely fucking devastating.

Nick’s brain short-circuited.

Without thinking, he pushed the toothbrush further into his mouth, almost gagging himself as his throat tightened around it. His eyes stayed glued to the mirror, watching Clint. The toothbrush slipped deeper, and he had to quickly pull it back, coughing quietly into his fist.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

His face burned bright red. He turned on the faucet fast, pretending to rinse his mouth like nothing happened, but his heart was slamming against his ribs. He could still see Clint in the reflection, now pulling on a fresh navy blue t-shirt.

Clint hadn’t noticed him staring. At least… Nick didn’t think he had.

Nick spat out the toothpaste, rinsed again, and tried to pull himself together. His hands were shaking slightly. He looked at himself in the mirror, his flushed cheeks, wide eyes, wet lips from brushing too aggressively.

He’s just changing. It’s his house. His room. Stop being a fucking creep.

But the image was already burned into his brain. The smooth chest. The way his sweatpants sat low on his hips. The casual confidence of a man who had nothing to hide in his own home.

Nick dried his face quickly and stepped out of the bathroom just as Clint finished adjusting his shirt.

“All good?” Clint asked, voice casual and warm like always.

“Yeah,” Nick managed, voice a little hoarse. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

“No problem at all.” Clint reached down to scratch Remy’s ears as the dog circled between them. “I’m making breakfast downstairs if you’re hungry. Amelie usually takes forever in the shower, so you’ve got time.”

Nick nodded, forcing a small smile. “Sounds good.”

Clint headed back downstairs, Remy following right behind him. Nick stayed standing in the hallway for a few extra seconds, trying to calm his racing pulse.

He could still taste toothpaste. His throat felt strangely tight.

This was only the second day of knowing Clint, and Nick already felt like he was losing control of his own brain. Every little thing the man did — laughing, baby-talking the dog, making midnight snacks, even just changing clothes — hit Nick somewhere deep he didn’t want to look at too closely.

He took a slow breath and headed downstairs.

Amelie’s voice was already carrying from the kitchen, talking to her dad about weekend plans. Nick plastered on a normal smile before walking in.

But inside, his thoughts were spiraling.

Get it together, Nick.

He’s Amelie’s Daddy.

Not yours.

@thenickgirl @noellexflwrs

Currently planning out the first fuck...ehueheueheu...AHAUAHAUEHUEHE *chokes* *dies*

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #gay #midnightwiththedead #thenickgirl #daddy daddy

Daddy, Daddy Part Four

The movie was still playing when Amelie finally passed out.

They’d made it about halfway through The Maze Runner. There were blankets everywhere, the donut box half empty on the floor, Remy snoring softly between them. Amelie had been fighting sleep for the last twenty minutes, mumbling commentary about how hot Dylan O’Brien was, before her voice just… stopped. Her head slumped against the pillow, breathing slow and even.

Nick stayed there for a few more minutes, staring at the screen without really watching. He wasn’t even tired. His brain was too loud. Every time he closed his eyes he kept seeing little flashes of the day — Clint at the grill, that deep laugh, the way he’d looked standing in Amelie’s doorway.

Eventually the hunger hit. Those donuts weren’t enough, and his stomach was growling. He carefully slid off the bed, trying not to wake Amelie or Remy, and crept out of the room.

The house was quiet. Only a few lights were still on downstairs. Nick padded down the stairs in his socks and hoodie, trying to be as silent as possible. He just needed something small, maybe some chips or fruit. Then he’d go right back up.

But the second he stepped into the kitchen, he froze.

Clint was standing at the stove.

Shirtless.

Completely shirtless.

The man was making a grilled cheese, bacon sizzling in a second pan. A few pieces of lettuce waited on a plate nearby. But it was the lack of shirt that completely short-circuited Nick’s brain. Clint’s back was broad and strong, muscles shifting smoothly as he flipped the sandwich. When he turned slightly to grab a plate, Nick got a clear view of his chest — smooth, no hair at all, solid pecs and defined abs that looked way too good for someone in his mid-forties. The kitchen light caught on his skin, highlighting the faint lines of muscle.

Remy was sitting right at his feet, tail thumping against the tile as Clint tore off a small piece of bread and held it down for him.

“There you go, buddy,” Clint murmured in that soft, low baby-talk voice. “Just a little piece. Don’t tell Amelie I’m spoiling you again, okay? Yeah, that’s my good boy. Such a polite boy.”

Remy took the bread gently and nibbled happily.

Nick stood there in the doorway like an idiot, heart hammering. He knew he should say something. Announce himself. But his mouth felt dry and his brain was too busy cataloging every detail — the way Clint’s shoulders moved, the soft trail of veins running down his arms, how relaxed and comfortable he looked half-naked in his own kitchen.

Clint turned and finally noticed him. Instead of looking embarrassed, he just smiled casually.

“Hey, Nick. Couldn’t sleep?”

Nick blinked, forcing his eyes up to Clint’s face. “Uh— yeah. I mean, no. Amelie fell asleep watching the movie and I got hungry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Clint said easily. He turned back to the stove, giving Remy another tiny piece of bread. “I’m a night owl. Want half of this? I always make too much.”

Nick hesitated. Sitting here with a shirtless Clint felt dangerous. But refusing would be weird, right?

“Sure. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Clint nodded toward the table. “Have a seat.”

Nick slid into the same chair he’d used at dinner. Remy immediately abandoned Clint and came over, resting his big head on Nick’s lap again, looking for more pets. Nick obliged, running his fingers through the dog’s soft fur while trying (and failing) not to watch Clint move around the kitchen.

The older man looked stupidly good. Confident. Domestic in a way that made Nick’s chest feel tight. He wasn’t flexing or showing off, he was just… being. Making a late-night sandwich, feeding his dog little treats, completely at ease in his own skin.

“So,” Clint said, flipping the grilled cheese with practiced ease, “you and Amelie have been friends for a while now, right?”

“Yeah. Since my sophomore year. She’s basically my favorite person.”

Clint smiled at that, glancing over his shoulder. “She thinks the same about you. Talks about you constantly.” He paused to coo at Remy again. “Isn’t that right, Rem? Nick’s one of the good ones, huh?”

The baby talk hit Nick like a warm punch to the stomach. Clint’s voice got so gentle when he spoke to the dog. It was unfairly attractive.

A few minutes later, Clint brought two plates over and sat down across from him. The grilled cheese looked perfect, crispy bread, melty cheese, bacon, and fresh lettuce. He slid one plate toward Nick.

“Eat up.”

“Thank you,” Nick said quietly. He took a bite and nearly groaned. It was stupidly good. “This is really good.”

Clint chuckled that low, warm dad laugh again. “Glad you like it. Simple but hits the spot at midnight.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a bit, the only sounds being Remy’s tail thumping and the occasional soft crunch of bacon. Nick kept stealing glances when he thought Clint wasn’t looking. The smooth plane of his chest. The way his arms flexed when he reached for his water. The faint stubble on his jaw.

Every time Clint noticed Remy begging, he’d break off a tiny piece and murmur, “Easy, buddy. Don’t be greedy now. You’re already the most spoiled dog in the city.”

Nick smiled down at the dog in his lap. “He’s really sweet.”

“He is,” Clint agreed, eyes softening as he looked at Remy. “Best decision I ever made, getting him after the divorce. He’s been good for both me and Amelie.”

There was something really warm in his voice when he said that. Nick felt another flutter in his chest — this time mixed with a tiny stab of guilt. This was Amelie’s dad. Her Daddy. The man who checked on them during sleepovers and made midnight snacks and spoiled his dog.

And here Nick was, trying not to stare at his bare chest like a complete creep.

Clint looked up and caught his eye for a second. Nick quickly looked back down at Remy, cheeks warming.

“You alright?” Clint asked, voice gentle.

“Yeah,” Nick said quickly. “Just… thinking. Thanks again for letting me stay over. And for the food. And everything.”

Clint’s smile was soft. “Anytime, Nick. You’re always welcome here.”

Nick took another bite of the grilled cheese, heart racing faster than it had any right to.

This sleepover was becoming way more tempting than he expected.

@thenickgirl @noellexflwrs

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #gay #midnightwiththedead #thenickgirl #daddy daddy

Daddy, Daddy Part Three

Amelie’s room was exactly what Nick expected. Fairy lights strung across the ceiling, posters of her favorite bands and influencers covering one wall, and a mountain of plushies on her bed. Remy had followed them upstairs immediately, claiming his usual spot at the foot of her bed like a fluffy guard dog.

They were both in pajamas now, Nick in his oversized black hoodie and sweats, Amelie in a matching set with little strawberries printed all over it. They’d sprawled out on her bed, surrounded by shopping bags they were still sorting through, gossiping like it was their full-time job.

“Okay but wait—” Amelie said, popping a piece of gum in her mouth, “did you see the way Sarah was looking at that guy from her chemistry class? She was practically undressing him with her eyes in the cafeteria. I told her she’s so obvious.”

Nick laughed, lying on his stomach and kicking his feet in the air. “She’s down bad. I feel like she’s gonna confess soon. My prediction? Before finals.”

Remy let out a big sigh and rolled onto his back between them, demanding belly rubs. Nick reached over and obliged, scratching the dog’s chest while Amelie kept going.

“Also, lowkey? I think my mom’s dating someone again. She got all weird when I asked about her plans this weekend. She did that fake laugh thing she does when she’s hiding something.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “You think she’d tell you if she was?”

“Eventually. She and Daddy are super chill about that stuff. They’ve been divorced for like six years now and they’re actually friends, it’s weirdly wholesome.”

Nick nodded, still petting Remy. Every time Amelie casually said “Daddy,” it did something to him. It sounded so sweet and loving coming from her. Normal. But in Nick’s head, the word kept twisting into something else, something that made his face feel warm.

They were deep into a story about their English teacher’s questionable haircut when a polite knock sounded on the door.

“Come in!” Amelie called.

The door opened and Clint stepped in, still wearing that tight black t-shirt from earlier. He looked relaxed, one hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes scanned the room quickly — making sure everything was okay — before landing on the two of them.

“Hey, just checking in,” he said, voice warm and low. “You two good? Need anything? Water? Snacks?”

Amelie sat up a little. “We’re fine right now, Daddy. Thanks though.”

Clint nodded, smiling softly. “Alright. Holler if you need me. I’ll be downstairs.” He gave Remy a quick head pat on his way out. “Be good, buddy.”

The door clicked shut again.

Nick let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Even just those few seconds of Clint being in the room made the air feel different. He was so… present. Calm. The kind of dad who actually checked in instead of just leaving them alone.

Amelie went right back into gossip mode, but Nick’s attention kept drifting. He kept replaying the way Clint’s voice sounded when he said “be good, buddy.” That same gentle tone he used with Remy earlier.

About five minutes later, another knock.

“Come in!” Amelie said again.

Clint reappeared holding a white box from a local bakery. He was smiling like he’d just pulled off a magic trick.

“Figured you might want something sweet,” he said, setting the box on Amelie’s desk. “Fresh donuts. Glazed, chocolate, and those strawberry ones you like.”

Amelie’s eyes widened. She sat up fully, staring at the box.

“Daddy, did you pull these from your asshole? How’d you get these so fast?”

Clint burst out laughing, that same deep, attractive dad laugh from dinner that made Nick’s stomach flutter again. He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe.

“Language. And I had them in the kitchen already. Picked them up earlier today. I know you two would crash eventually and want sugar.”

“You’re the best,” Amelie said, already hopping up to open the box. “Seriously. Nick, you have to try the strawberry ones. They’re insane.”

Nick sat up, smiling shyly. “Thank you, Clint. That’s really nice of you.”

Clint’s eyes met his for a moment. “No problem at all. Enjoy them.” He gave Remy one last scratch behind the ears. “Don’t let these two spoil you too much, okay, Rem? You’re already spoiled enough.”

Remy wagged his tail happily.

As Clint turned to leave, he paused in the doorway. “Don’t stay up too late, alright? And Nick… you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen if you get hungry later. Make yourself at home.”

Then he was gone again, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

Amelie was already stuffing half a donut in her mouth. “See? He’s literally the coolest. Most parents would just tell us to go to sleep by now.”

Nick nodded, biting into one of the glazed donuts. It was warm and perfect. But his mind wasn’t really on the food.

He kept thinking about how Clint had knocked both times. How he’d checked in. How natural and easy he was with Amelie. How good he looked just standing in the doorway like it was nothing.

Remy had moved over to Nick again, resting his big head on his thigh while he ate. Nick stroked the dog’s fur absentmindedly, half-listening as Amelie kept gossiping between bites of donut.

But inside, Nick’s thoughts were getting louder.

He’s just a good dad. That’s all.

Stop thinking about the way he laughs.

Stop thinking about his arms in that shirt.

Stop.

He took another bite of donut and tried to focus on whatever Amelie was saying about their math teacher. But every time he shifted, he could still feel the ghost of Clint’s presence in the room.

This sleepover was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

@thenickgirl @noellexflwrs

Okay so I have a bit of a plan for this 🤔 grad season like JUST happened so Nick's gonna be a year older than Amelie, so Nick graduates earlier in the series just to avoid any weirdness :)

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #midnightwiththedead #gay #thenickgirl #daddy daddy #older men are hot #hehehehehehehehhehehehehehehehe #this is gonna be so smutty bro

Daddy, Daddy Part Two

They brought everything inside after Clint finished grilling. The kitchen smelled amazing — charred burgers, toasted buns, and that smoky outdoor scent that clung to Clint’s black t-shirt. Amelie was already setting plates down on the big wooden dining table like she’d done it a thousand times.

“Daddy, can you grab the ketchup?” she asked, grinning.

Clint gave her a fond look and reached into the fridge without missing a beat. Nick tried not to stare at the way the shirt pulled across his back when he stretched. He failed miserably.

“Sit wherever you want, Nick,” Clint said, voice warm and easy as he set the condiments down. “Mi casa es su casa tonight.”

Nick chose the chair across from Amelie, but before he could even settle, a cold, wet nose pressed right into the side of his knee.

“Oh— hi, buddy,” Nick laughed softly.

Remy had followed them in and immediately zeroed in on the new person. The big golden Labrador sniffed eagerly at Nick’s kneecaps, then pawed at his jeans with one heavy paw, tail wagging so hard his whole body moved with it.

“He likes you,” Amelie said, already piling toppings onto her burger. “Remy’s a total cuddle slut. He’s gonna be your shadow all night.”

Nick reached down and scratched behind Remy’s soft ears. The dog leaned into it instantly, letting out a happy sigh and pushing his head further into Nick’s lap.

Clint chuckled from the head of the table.

And God… that laugh.

It was deep, rich, and warm — the kind of laugh that felt like it came straight from his chest. A real dad laugh. The type that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and showed off the faint laugh lines that only made him look better. Nick’s stomach did a weird little flip.

“He’s not subtle, is he?” Clint said, still smiling as he watched Remy beg for more attention. “Remy, c’mon, let the poor boy eat first, you goofball.”

But Remy ignored him completely, now resting his chin on Nick’s thigh and looking up with big pleading eyes.

Nick couldn’t help it. He kept one hand on the dog, stroking his golden fur while he tried to assemble his own burger with the other. Every time he stopped petting, Remy would paw at him again, insistent and adorable.

Clint let out another one of those attractive laughs, shaking his head. “He’s spoiled rotten. Isn’t that right, Rem? Yeah, you’re a big spoiled baby, huh?”

The baby talk hit Nick harder than it should have. Clint’s voice dropped into this soft, affectionate tone when he spoke to the dog — low and rumbly, the kind of voice that made Nick feel strangely warm inside. He tried to focus on his food instead.

The burgers were incredible, obviously. Juicy, perfectly seasoned. They talked about normal stuff while they ate — Amelie recapping their shopping trip in dramatic detail, the new sneakers she’d convinced Nick to buy, the terrible iced matcha she’d gotten that tasted like grass.

Clint listened attentively, asking questions and laughing at all the right moments. But every few sentences, he’d glance down at Remy and interrupt himself.

“—and then the cashier looked at us like we were crazy, but—” Clint paused, looking under the table. “Remy, buddy, you gotta stop pawing his leg like that. Yeah? You’re being ridiculous, big guy. Such a silly boy.”

Nick smiled despite himself, continuing to pet the dog. Remy’s tail thumped loudly against the floor.

Amelie rolled her eyes. “Daddy’s worse than I am. He talks to Remy like he’s a toddler.”

“Can you blame me?” Clint said, leaning back in his chair. That laugh again — softer this time. “Look at that face. Who’s my good boy? Huh? Who’s the best boy in the whole house?”

Remy’s ears perked up and he let out a little happy woof, still glued to Nick’s side.

Nick’s cheeks felt warm. He kept his eyes on his plate, focusing way too hard on his fries.

After they finished eating, Amelie stretched dramatically. “Okay, I’m going upstairs to change into pajamas. This outfit is cute but it’s not comfy. Nick, you can come up whenever. We’ll watch something in my room.”

She gave her dad a quick side hug. “Thanks for dinner, Daddy.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

And just like that, she was gone, footsteps disappearing up the stairs.

Suddenly it was just the two of them.

Nick stayed seated, one hand still absently stroking Remy’s head. The kitchen felt quieter now. More intimate.

Clint leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So, Nick,” he said, genuinely curious. “Amelie talks about you all the time, but I don’t know much. What do you do for fun? Hobbies? You into sports, music, art…?”

Nick swallowed. Being alone with Clint felt different. The man had this calm, steady presence that made the air feel thicker.

“I, um… I really like fashion,” Nick started. “Thrifting, putting outfits together, that kind of thing. Me and Amelie do that a lot. I also make playlists for everything. And I’ve been trying to learn how to cook more, but I’m kinda terrible at it so far.”

Clint nodded, listening like he actually cared. “Fashion makes sense. You’ve got good style. That jacket you were wearing earlier? Sharp.”

Nick felt his face heat up at the casual compliment.

Before he could respond, Clint glanced down again.

“Remy, come on, dude. Give him some space,” he said in that same soft baby-talk voice. “You’re gonna annoy him, buddy. Yeah, I know, I know. You just love new friends, don’t you? Such a sweet boy.”

Remy responded by rolling onto his back for belly rubs, legs kicking happily. Nick laughed and reached down to oblige him.

Clint watched them with a small, fond smile. “He doesn’t do that with everyone. Guess you passed the Remy test.”

Nick looked up, meeting Clint’s eyes for a moment. They were kind, but there was something else there too — something steady and observant that made Nick’s pulse quicken.

“How was your day, by the way?” Clint asked, continuing the conversation. “Besides getting dragged around the mall by my daughter.”

“It was good,” Nick said. “Really fun, actually. Your daughter’s the best shopping partner.”

Clint chuckled again — that deep, attractive dad laugh — and Nick felt it settle somewhere low in his chest.

The conversation flowed easily after that, but every few minutes Clint would break off to coo at Remy in that gentle voice, and every single time Nick felt his stomach do that same little flip.

He had no idea how he was supposed to survive an entire sleepover like this.

Tags: @thenickgirl @noellexflwrs

:) if you are reading this, this is currently a scheduled post. I am asleep as this is being published.

#nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #midnightwiththedead #gay #thenickgirl #older men are hot #daddy daddy

Daddy, Daddy Part One

Nick’s arms were sore from carrying all the shopping bags, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Amelie had dragged him to three different malls today, and somehow he still wasn’t tired of her chaos.

As they turned onto her street, Amelie swung her bags happily. “You’re gonna love my house. Daddy makes the best burgers.”

Nick blinked. Daddy. The word sounded so casual coming from her, warm and affectionate. He didn’t think much of it at first.

They pushed open the side gate and stepped into the backyard. The smell of grilling meat hit them immediately.

And there he was.

Clint Peterson stood at the grill in a tight black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and thick arms. A few silver strands caught the sunlight in his dark hair. He was casually feeding little pieces of burger to Remy, the big golden Labrador bouncing excitedly at his feet.

“Remy, sit. Good boy,” Clint said, voice deep and warm, before looking up. His face broke into a smile when he saw them. “There’s my girl.”

“Daddy!” Amelie beamed, running over to hug him. Clint wrapped one big arm around her, careful not to get grease on her clothes.

Then his eyes moved to Nick.

“You must be Nick. Amelie’s told me a lot about you.” He wiped his hand on a towel and extended it. “Clint. Nice to finally meet you.”

Nick took his hand.

The grip was firm. Warm. Nick felt it all the way down to his stomach.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson,” he said softly. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

Clint’s eyes lingered on him for just a second longer than normal. “Any friend of Amelie’s is welcome here. And you can call me Clint.”

Amelie rolled her eyes fondly. “He lets everyone call him Clint. Except me, obviously. Right, Daddy?”

Clint chuckled and ruffled her hair. “Obviously.”

Nick stood there trying to act normal, but his heart was already beating too fast. The way Clint looked in that tight shirt, the easy confidence, the deep voice… it was dangerous.

This was going to be a long night.

@thenickgirl mwah

I was conspiring all day 😭 I don't wanna rush it all too much, so the first few parts won't be immediately dirty but trust, it's getting there.

If anyone wants to be in the tag list, just ask :)

I also made this :3 I picture Clint as Timothy Olyphant because he's so DILF material like look at this sexy fine piece of ass take my clothes off please

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #gay #midnightwiththedead #sturniolo triplets #thenickgirl #i love dilfs #older men are hot #gay men #secret desires #hehehehehe

WHAT'S ON MY PHONE

Warning: the following one shot contains absolutely gay shit. Minors, shoo.

The camera on Nick’s phone was already rolling, propped up against a stack of books on the coffee table in their shared apartment. Soft lighting glowed from the string lights they’d strung up weeks ago, and the vibe was cozy—boyfriend content at its finest. Nick leaned back against the couch, Jalen’s arm slung lazily around his shoulders.

“Alright, what’s on my phone part two, but this time with my favorite person,” Nick said, grinning at the lens. “Say hi, babe.”

Jalen, all easy confidence and warm brown skin glowing under the lights, waved with his free hand. “What’s good? It’s Jalen. And yes, I let him go through my phone. Trust is sexy.”

They started simple.

Nick’s camera roll was full of screenshots of memes, blurry photos of Matt and Chris (one of Matt mid-sneeze), and way too many videos of Jalen dancing in the kitchen.

Jalen’s was more curated—professional promo shots, fitness clips, and candid pics of Nick sleeping with his mouth open that made Nick shove him playfully.

“Delete that,” Nick laughed.

“No way, Peach. That’s premium content,” Jalen murmured, pressing a kiss to Nick’s temple. The pet name slipped out naturally, low and affectionate, and Nick’s ears went pink.

They kept going—apps, playlists, notes full of half-written captions. Until Nick got bold.

“Alright, let’s see your hidden shit. I know you have a secret folder somewhere.”

Jalen raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure you wanna go there?”

“Baby, it’s content. Hand it over.”

Jalen unlocked his phone and passed it. Nick scrolled through the albums, tapping on one labeled with emojis: 🍑🍆🤤

The second it opened, Nick’s eyes widened.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of photos loaded. Jalen, naked and glistening, taken in their bedroom mirror. Jalen in the shower, water running down his chest and abs, hand wrapped around his hard dick. Jalen bent over, ass arched perfectly toward the camera, cheeks spread just enough to tease. Some were artistic, soft lighting and all. Others were filthy, close-ups, cum on his stomach, fingers inside himself.

And then the videos.

Nick’s own moan played quietly from the phone before he could pause it—a clip of him on his back, legs over Jalen’s shoulders, getting fucked deep while Jalen growled something filthy. Another of Nick on his knees, mouth full, eyes watering as Jalen praised him. A longer one where Jalen had the camera angled down, watching himself slide in and out of Nick’s ass while Nick begged.

“Jalen—what the fuck,” Nick breathed, half-laughing, half-scandalized. His face was burning.

Jalen just grinned, not even a little ashamed. “Surprise. Been building that one for a while. Some of those nudes you haven’t seen yet, Peach. Thought I’d send ‘em when you were on a long trip or something. Keep you desperate.”

Nick swiped through a few more, biting his lip hard. “These are… Jesus. You look so good. But the videos—babe, we said we weren’t recording most of these.”

“Some of them I couldn’t help it,” Jalen said, voice dropping. He leaned in, lips brushing Nick’s ear. “You get loud and pretty when I hit it right. Had to keep the evidence.”

Nick’s breath hitched, clearly affected. He glanced back at the recording phone. “We are so cutting this part out.”

“Obviously,” Jalen chuckled. “Pause the vlog, Peach.”

Nick stopped the main recording, then immediately reopened Jalen’s phone. “But seriously… send me all of these later. Like, right after we finish filming.”

Jalen’s hand slid down to squeeze Nick’s thigh. “Only if you promise to make new ones tonight. I’ll even let you hold the camera this time.”

Nick turned, kissing him properly—deep, a little needy. When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling.

“Deal. Now let’s finish the video like normal people who don’t have a whole spank bank of each other on their phones.”

They restarted the recording a minute later, acting like nothing happened. Jalen’s arm went back around Nick’s shoulders, easy and warm. The rest of the “what’s on my phone” went smoothly—more memes, a shared grocery list, and Jalen’s endless camera roll of Nick’s laugh.

Later, after the camera was off and the edited video was safely queued to post (that particular folder mysteriously never mentioned), Jalen pulled Nick into his lap on the couch.

“So… about that folder,” Jalen said, voice low.

Nick grinned, already reaching for Jalen’s phone again. “Send them. All of them. Then delete the eevidenc and come fuck your Peach properly.”

Jalen laughed, deep and rich, thumbs already flying across the screen. “Yes, sir.”

@thenickgirl here ya go :> how did I get this idea? I have no idea. It just kinda spawned.

#nick sturniolo smut #midnightwiththedead #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #jalen brooks #thenickgirl #sturniolo triplets #gay

midnightwiththedead

COACHELLA

SMUT WARNING: Car sex, gay shit, supa dupah gay stuff, blah blah, mdni

The desert air still felt electric on their skin, a phantom thrum of bass and shared heat from the weekend. Jalen drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights as they left the last vestiges of the festival behind.

The silence in the car was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that comes after three days of sensory overload, a space for the memories to settle.

Nick was fidgeting in the passenger seat, his knee bouncing. He couldn't shake the feeling. It wasn't just the music or the crowds; it was the raw, unfiltered energy of Coachella.

The sight of bodies moving together, the scent of sweat and sunscreen, the collective pulse of thousands of people letting go. It had gotten under his skin, coiling tight and hot in his gut.

He glanced over at Jalen, his gaze tracing the strong line of his jaw, the way his t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. He wanted him. Right now.

"Jalen," Nick's voice was a low murmur, barely cutting through the hum of the engine.

Jalen glanced over, his eyes dark and tired. "What's up, Peach?"

"Pull over."

Jalen shot him a look, a mix of confusion and amusement. "What? We're like twenty minutes from home."

"Please," Nick breathed, his hand sliding over to rest on Jalen's thigh, squeezing gently. "I can't wait."

The desperation in Nick's voice was all it took. Jalen's eyes widened slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face as he understood.

He flicked on his blinker, guiding the car onto a quiet, unlit stretch of road that cut through an undeveloped patch of land. The engine died, plunging them into near darkness, save for the faint glow of the dashboard.

Before Jalen could even speak, Nick was already climbing over the console, straddling his lap in the cramped driver's seat. The horn blared briefly as Nick's elbow jabbed the wheel.

"Shit, sorry," Nick giggled, his hands already working at the button and fly of Jalen's jeans.

Jalen just chuckled, his hands finding purchase on Nick's hips, guiding him closer. "Eager, are we?"

"You have no idea," Nick panted, finally freeing Jalen's cock. He was already half-hard, and Nick's touch had him standing at full attention in seconds.

Nick quickly shoved his own shorts down just enough, not even bothering to take them off. He spat into his palm, slicking Jalen up as best he could in the dim light before positioning himself.

He sank down with a shared groan, his head falling back against the headrest. The angle was awkward, the seat was sticky, and it was perfect.

"Fuck," Nick whimpered, rolling his hips experimentally. "It feels bigger than this morning...."

Jalen let out a low, guttural laugh, his grip tightening on Nick's cheeks. "That's what a weekend of watching you dance does to me."

Nick started to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that quickly grew frantic. The car rocked with their movements, the leather seats creaking in protest.

Nick braced his hands on Jalen's shoulders, using the leverage to bounce faster, harder. The windows were beginning to fog up, trapping their heat and the scent of sex.

"Look at you," Jalen rasped, his voice thick with desire. "Couldn't even make it home. So fucking desperate for it."

"Yes," Nick hissed, his nails digging into Jalen's shoulders. "Just for you. Always for you."

Jalen met him thrust for thrust, driving up into Nick's heat. The sounds of their skin slapping together, their ragged breaths, and Nick's broken moans filled the small space.

It was raw and messy and exactly what Nick needed. The coil of heat in his stomach tightened, his thighs trembling with exertion.

"Fuck, I'm—"

"I know, baby," Jalen cut him off, his hand wrapping around Nick's cock and stroking him in time with their frantic pace. "Let go. Come for me."

That was all it took. Nick cried out, his body convulsing as he spilled over Jalen's hand. Jalen followed him over the edge moments later with a deep groan, burying his face in Nick's neck.

They stayed like that for a long moment, a tangled, sweaty mess in the front seat, the only sound their heavy breathing. Nick finally lifted his head, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face.

"Okay," he sighed. "We can go home now."

"You're ridiculous."

EHEUEHUEHEUEHE I ALREADY WROTE IT @thenickgirl how surprised are you that it's me ;) ehueheihe

I'm been trying to update Lavender in the Crossfire but I lost the file I had with the following chapters so I'm on a quest to find it 🌚

thenickgirl

LMAOO OMG was not expecting to be tagged instantly

it’s so good, i loved it! 💛

midnightwiththedead

Thank you 🥺 I was looking at pics of Nick from Coachella and I'm like "how would this play out if Jalen were there" and idk most men are 90% more attractive when sweaty or wet so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯