@sturnscat - Tumblr Blog

✎ᝰ. WELCOME TO STURNSCAT ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

-ˏˋ estella ೃ࿐

second account of @slvtf0rchr1s .ᐟ

masterlist. taglist. sturniolos. chris girl. black cats. coraline. cigarettes. tim burton. poems. cigarettes. neil gaiman. red, black and white. kate bush. lana del rey. night. playlists. i hate how much i care.

“one persons craziness, is another persons reality.” - T. B.

reposting. yapping. writing. that’s why i’m here.

#estellas second ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolos #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturnblr

-ˏˋ OH SWEETEST BOY - C.S ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

✎ᝰ. previous part ﹠au masterlist .ᐟ.ᐟ cw: smoking, abuse, angst

‎‧₊˚✧ chapter 04 ✧˚₊‧

he is standing by his locker, rumbling through the different book and left over chips bags. his jaw is clenched, his eyes squinted slightly into a frustrated expression.

he knows he put it here, but somehow it has seemed to disappear.

he slams his locker close, a bit too harsh, making the people who already thought he was a freak glance at him with even more judgement.

he sighs and throws his backpack over one shoulder, walking towards the exit of the school.

when he’s met with the fresh outside air, his body seems to relax the tiniest bit. he sighs shakingly and reaches in his pocket, pulling out several coins.

he counts them, jaw clenching a bit harder each time when he only sees useless pennies.

he runs a hand through his messy hair, putting the coins back in his pocket and trying to forget them.

and then he feels that same tap on his shoulder, the touch one of the softest kinds. he turns around, being met with your kind eyes.

you send him a small smile, which he doesn’t return. he just raises both his brows in silence, as if asking what the hell you want.

you reach into your back pocket. his eyes widen slightly when he sees you reveal a ten dollar bill, and he glances back up at your eyes, his facade seeming to have fallen the slightest bit.

you smile. the paper is balancing in between your pointer and middle finger as you reach it out for him.

he just stares at it, not attempting to grab it. you let out a small chuckle.

“here, it’s for you.”

hes taken aback in any way possible, not understanding and certaining not knowing how to handle this kindness.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, like he wants you to disappear on your own, and that is confusing you further.

you pull your hand back when he doesn’t take the bill and glance up at him, meeting those cold emotionless blue eyes. you let out a shaky sigh before shrugging.

“okay, i’ll text you probably, about the project.”

he doesn’t react once again, and you walk past him, but not before gently patting his shoulder, something that makes the poor boy flinch.

when you’re out of sight, chris allows himself to breathe again. he tries to think why anyone would offer him such a big gift, it’s not like the two of you are talking often. well, you’re the only person he’s ever talked to besides his parents, so for him that alone is already a big deal.

he shakes his head, beginning to walk again, his worn off converses slumping over the ground.

he reaches in his front pocket, which to be fair surprises him in the first place. he never puts stuff there, but somehow in this moment he is drawn towards it.

he lets his fingers brush the inside fabric of his jeans, and then he freezes. he feels something, maybe a note of some kind, since he feels thin paper brushing against his finger tips.

he pulls his hand out, and his heart skips a beat when he sees he holds a 10 dollar bill.

he stares at it, feeling his heart fasten in such an uncomfortable way, it makes his body shiver.

he looks back over his shoulder, a weak attempt to maybe catch your gaze again, but of course you’ve disappeared, leaving him confused.

later that same afternoon he finds himself in the tiny shop on the corner, the same old man behind the counter as always, a big cigar in his mouth.

the old man gives chris a friendly nod, putting out the cigar and already reaching under the counter to reveal a pack of cheap cigarettes.

chris comes here every other day. he has learned the man’s name by now, not because the man told him, but because he kept glancing at the keys dangling out of the man’s pocket.

and after a while, after he kept stealing glances at his pocket over the weeks, he finally could make out the name on the card that was attached to them.

chris hands the man the same ten dollar bill that was in your hands a few moments ago. the old fella takes it, puts it in the cash register drawer and slides the pack of cigarettes over the counter towards chris, who takes it eagerly and stores them in his back pocket.

“thank you sir.”

he murmurs and the man laughs lowly, showing chris his yellow and rotten teeth. he gives chris a wave, which he surprisingly returns, before he walks out of the shop.

he crosses the street, walking automatically towards the park that is near his house.

he finds the same bench, hidden slightly behind all the greens and leaves. chris sits down, pulling out his cigarettes once again and his lighter.

he unwraps the seal carefully, and he finds himself admiring this pack more than all the others.

not because it’s a different brand, not because its a value pack. no, it’s because after all you indirectly gifted this to him, and that same uncomfortable feeling appears in his chest once again, something he has never felt before.

it’s both suffocating and terrifying, but it’s there, and he can’t avoid it anymore.

after a cigarette or two he walks around the park until he reaches home. he walks up the narrow stairs of his apartment building, approaches his door and opens it, being met with the same mess and silence like always.

he walks around his house, on the way to his room he picks up empty cans and bottles, stubbed out cigarettes and left over fast food packages.

he checks if his mother is home, which she isnt, of course, and he wonders if she’ll even get home tonight.

he slumps towards his room, plopping down on the bed and kicking his shoes off. he sighs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through random platforms.

he then notices your number saved in his phone, and he can’t help but click on your profile picture, zooming in and wondering why the hell you would want to be partners with him for a schools project and why you would even talk to him in the first place.

it’s getting darker and darker outside, and he’s been staring at his phone for hours now. he already warmed up a microwave meal for himself, since his mother still hasn’t shown her face.

and then suddenly he hears the door unlock, followed by a loud bang. he sighs when he hears various stumbling around, expecting nothing more.

after a short moment of silence, he hears his name, loud, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel an icy shiver run down his spine.

he hesitantly pads out of his room, being met with his mothers glazed over eyes, her expression frustrated as she holds up the empty package of the microwave meal he heated up for himself.

“how many fucking times do i have to tell you that you need to keep your filthy hands off my stuff?!”

she spats, every word coated in a deep layer of disgust as she speaks with a slurred speech.

chris nibbles on his lip, wanting to speak up. he wants to say that this house is of them both, he wants to say that every month he helps paying rent, he wants to say that he buys groceries too,

but the last time he said something, he received a slap, so he keeps his mouth shut.

but of course, just like always, his mothers mood is unstable, whatever he tries, it’s never enough.

her hand meets his face, leaving a stinging red mark on his cheek. he stares at her emotionless, while she throws the empty package on the ground.

“fucking useless.” she slurs, breath smelling like alcohol, weed and god knows what else.

she stumbles on her heels towards the couch, sinking into the pillows, her eyes half lidded.

“clean that up.” his mother mumbles to him from the couch, grabbing a beer can from the ground and pouring the last liquid into her mouth.

chris swallows, rubbing his cheek to soothe the stinging pain. he leans down to pick up the mess, his mothers words never stopping.

“and act like a good son for once, because you’re not doing anything..” she lets out a heartless scoff.

“why can’t you look more like your dad, follow his path.” she mumbles coldly, and chris quickly wipes a tear out of his face, continuing to clean up the mess.

a/n i’m working on making my chapters longer ayeee 🙏 also two posts because i really missed u all <3

-ˏˋ OH SWEETEST BOY ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

✎ᝰ. previous part﹠au masterlist .ᐟ .ᐟ cw: none

‎‧₊˚✧ chapter 035 ✧˚₊‧

as you enter your last class of the day, you notice him once again. he’s sitting alone, staring at his desk while everyone around him chats with each other.

and then, without thinking, you make your way over to him, putting down your bag on the empty chair next to him.he flinches at the sound and looks up, surprised.

“is it okay if i sit here?”

you ask, voice soft. he furrows his brows, not understanding while anyone would want to sit next to him, but instead of arguing, he sends you a quiet nod, before discarding his gaze again.

you take the seat next to him, feeling the coldness of his presence, the silence killing you slightly. class starts, and halfway through the teacher assigns a project, one where you need to work in duos for.

the classroom burst out in both excitement and annoyance, each students finding their partner without needing to stand up. you glance at chris, who doesn’t seem to be listening to any of this, just slumped back in his seat as he doodles random things in his notebook.

“do you wanna be partners?”

you say, making him look up at you once again, taken aback. his cold blue eyes stare at you, his bottom lip trembling. you tilt your head, waiting for an answer.

and how much chris would like to send you a glare, tell you to fuck off and refuse your offer, he pauses, something he seems to do an awful lot around you for some odd reason.

you notice this slight glint in his eyes and immediately widen your smile. he sighs, before nodding slowly. you can’t seem to let your smile fade, while chris is staring at you, visibly his corners of his mouth are in a straight line.

the teacher explains the project, notes down all the duos and the lesson continues, although this time the silence between you and chris seems to be less suffocating than before.

the bell rings, everyone rushes out of the classroom like it seemed to be on fire. chris does the same thing, not wanting to be here for a single second longer. you catch up with him in the hallway, tapping his shoulder softly, touch undeniably soft. he turns around again, his cold eyes meeting your warm ones.

“is it okay if we exchange phone numbers?”

you ask, making chris look at you unbelievably. he checks your face, somewhat hoping he’ll see a hint of mockery, just because he doesn’t know how to accept kindness like this. but he can’t find any, and when you pull out your phone, he swallows audibly.

“for the project.”

you add, giving him a small smile. he glances down at you before pulling his phone out of his back pocket, making you smile wider. you exchange numbers, saving each others contact.

chris’s mind keeps wandering, because he truly doesn’t understand why anybody would want to have his number saved.

after all, this is the first time he has ever had a conversation with someone, who wasn’t his family.

and he doesn’t like it one single bit.

a/n super super short, you can’t rly call this a chapter lmao i’m sorry, next one will be longer :) alsoooo sorry for not posting oops

#◟♯ . / oh sweetest boy au . !#estellas second ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturnblr #matt sturniolo smut #christopher owen sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolos

sturnscat

-ˏˋ OH SWEETEST BOY - C.S ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

✎ᝰ. previous part & au masterlist .ᐟ .ᐟ mentions of alcohol, drugs, abuse, suicide and death

‎‧₊˚✧ chapter 03 ✧˚₊‧

chris walked around his house, well technically, the house of his parents. he walked past the mess on the ground, the endless unread newspapers, empty beer cans and other alcoholic beverages.

he came home early today, needing to walk home alone, since his mother once again forgot to pick him up. and the tears he already tried to hold back due the kid commenting mean things about his backpack, seemed to take that chance to escape as he walked home, tiny shoulders slumped.

when he opened the door he was met with the usual silence, a small note on the kitchen counter from his dad, saying he could warm up the left overs in the fridge.

he loved his dad, although he had weird habits, just like his mother. drinking, smoking and some times even swallowing weird pills he couldn’t acknowledge.

he opened the fridge, pushing aside some more beer and wine to reach the small container in the back, filled with a left over microwave meal, probably from a few days ago.

he warmed it up and ate the soggy food. he couldn’t complain though, atleast he had food to eat, since this wasn’t the case sometimes.

the silence in the house felt suffocating today for some reason, although he was used to being alone like this, dad at work, mother somewhere he was too young to even know the name of the place of.

he thought about next week, when he’d turn 11. it’s not like his birthday was a thing to look forward to, although last time his dad got him a bracelet, a cheap silver one. and god how happy he was. it was too big for his wrist, so he gently rested it in his bedroom.

he finished his food, putting it aside before walking to his room, but not before passing the bathroom. weirdly enough the lights were on.

chris’s heart picked up, he hoped he wasn’t the one who left it on, not wanting to receive yet another harsh slap.

he went to turn the light off, before noticing something on the ground. a white pill.

he picked it up, setting it on the counter, only to be met by a medicine jar, completely empty.

he furrowed his brows, glancing at the label, although he didn’t know what all those words meant.

and that was the moment he looked forward, his heart stopping for just a second.

he stood there, frozen, not able to move. his eyes wide, mouth agape slightly as he stared. he couldn’t look away, although he wanted nothing more than that in that moment.

two lifeless eyes stared at him, the same blue ones who he knew left the note for him on the kitchen counter, the same ones who tried to raise him the best he could, the same ones he looked in almost every day.

he felt his breath hitching, heart beginning to beat faster and faster after that short pause. and before he could stop it, yet another tear fell down his cheek. and another. and another.

the chest of his dad didn’t heave up and down like normally, his face wasn’t flushed like when he drank too much, his right hand wasn’t balled into a fist. he laid there, staring soullessly back at chris.

and the poor boy let out a heartbreaking sob, more and more tears fell. he turned around, wanting to scream, although no voice came out of his mouth.

out of panic he tripped over his own feet, hitting his chin harshly on the floor.

and that was the moment when chris woke up, hair messy, forehead sweaty. his breathing was quick, panicked.

the first thing he felt was relief, that it was a nightmare, the next thing that entered his body was panic again, since he realised it was indeed a nightmare, one that he encountered 11 years ago.

a/n i lowkey cried when writing this.

sturnscat

tags

@christophersspepsii @multizxcapes @iknowyouhave20dollars @bee-stvrniolo