baileysturnz - Tumblr blog

baileysturnz · 12 hours ago

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WOW

late night studyin - m. sturniolo

perfect competition.

profit maximization.

competition in… fuck.

you’d been staring at the same page for what felt like hours, your eyes grazing over the words without absorbing a single thing. jeffery m. perloff could wait.

the library was quiet, save for the faint rustle of pages being turned and the occasional creak of a chair as another student packed up for the night. a quarter past midnight. the kind of hour where most people had already given up or fallen asleep on their textbooks. not you, though. you were still here. still trying to convince yourself you were studying for that microeconomics exam.

but, if you were honest, the reason you hadn’t left yet had nothing to do with your coursework.

he was sitting no more than thirty feet away, head bowed, glasses slipping down his nose as he flipped through a book. matt, as his name tag read. the late-night librarian.

you didn’t know much about him—not his last name, not his major (if he even had one), not why he always worked this shift. but you knew enough. you knew that the soft fall of his brown hair brushed just above his glasses when he tilted his head forward. you knew he had this habit of chewing on his lower lip when he was focused, like he was doing right now. you knew that he sat in that stupid button-up shirt that looked just a little too big for him, the sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms as he rested one hand on the desk.

what you didn’t know was how you were supposed to concentrate when he was right there.

the ache between your thighs had started almost an hour ago, dull and ignorable at first. but the longer you sat there, pretending to read, the harder it was to ignore. you shifted in your seat, squeezing your thighs together as if that would do anything to alleviate the growing heat. it didn’t. your underwear was soaked, clinging to you uncomfortably, and you were certain that if you stood up, there’d be a faint damp spot on the fabric of the chair.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. not with him so close.

you were practically squirming in your seat at this point, the book in front of you nothing more than a forgotten prop. you hadn’t flipped the page in over twenty minutes, and the words were just a blur, lost in the fog of your thoughts. the ache between your legs was unbearable now, pulsing with every subtle glance at matt.

you had half a mind to just pack up and leave before you embarrassed yourself, but then he stood up.

your eyes snapped to him immediately, your breath hitching as he grabbed a small stack of books from the desk and walked toward the shelves. his footsteps were soft against the library’s old wooden floors, the quiet shuffle of his shoes barely breaking the silence. he moved with a sort of ease, his long fingers gripping the books firmly as he scanned the spines of the shelves, searching for their place.

your heart raced. this was your chance.

you grabbed the textbook in front of you—an afterthought, really, since you weren’t even sure it belonged to this library—and stood up. your knees felt weak, whether from sitting too long or from the way matt’s shirt stretched across his back as he reached up to slide a book into place, you weren’t sure.

you wandered toward the same section, feigning a purpose you didn’t have. the air between the rows of shelves felt warmer somehow, like the quiet intimacy of the space amplified the pounding of your heart.

and then you saw it.

he was reaching for the top shelf, one hand gripping the edge for balance as he stretched upward. his button-up shirt shifted with the motion, the fabric lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of his stomach. soft, pale skin, a faint trail of hair leading down beneath the waistband of his pants. the elastic band of his briefs peeked out—black, simple, but enough to send your mind spiraling.

he let out a quiet grunt as he slid the book into place, the sound low and unintentional, but it hit you like a freight train.

your thighs pressed together instinctively, the ache worsening as you tried to keep your breathing steady. god, you were a mess.

you were too busy staring at the soft stretch of matt’s shirt as he reached for another book to realize you’d been clutching your textbook so tightly that your knuckles had gone white. it wasn’t until you shifted your grip that it slipped from your hands, hitting the wooden floor with a dull thud.

you froze, heat flooding your face as matt turned his head toward the sound. his blue eyes met yours, curious but calm, and you were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“need help?”

his voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was an underlying firmness to it. an odd mix that paired surprisingly well with the low, scruffy east coast accent that laced his words. it sounded so good—too good—to come out of his mouth.

you blinked, realizing too late that he was waiting for a response. “oh, um…” you bent down to pick up the book, fingers fumbling slightly as you tried to steady yourself. “no, no, i’m good. i was just, uh…” you paused, cringing at the way your words were already tumbling out of your mouth. “i’m just swapping out books. i have a microeconomics exam coming up for my micro 101 class in a few days, and i thought—”

you stopped mid-sentence when you noticed the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of matt’s lips.

“well,” he said, his voice low and playful, “you won’t find anything economical in the fiction section.”

his tone was so casual, but there was a faint smirk on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. it wasn’t overt, just enough to make you question if you imagined it.

you let out a breath of amusement, though it felt more like a flustered cry for help. his ability to joke around—however small—was almost worse than his quiet demeanor. you quickly crossed one leg over the other, your head ducking down for a moment as you tried to collect yourself.

“right…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

when you didn’t say anything else, matt tilted his head slightly, studying you before speaking again. “you want me to show you where the right section is?”

you looked up at him, nodding quickly before you could embarrass yourself further. “yeah, that’d be great. thanks.”

he gestured for you to follow, and you trailed after him as he led you down a few rows. the silence between you was heavy, broken only by the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your steps.

“here,” matt said, stopping in front of a shelf and motioning to the books.

“thanks,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over the spines as you read off the titles.

he started to walk away, but then he hesitated, turning back around. “you know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “there’s this theory in microeconomics about diminishing marginal returns. it’s pretty interesting.”

you looked up at him, blinking. “what?”

he scratched at the back of his head, his hand running through the short hairs there. the gesture was so casual, but it felt like a habit—a small, nervous quirk during social interactions. “diminishing marginal returns,” he repeated. “basically, it’s the idea that the more you add something, the less you get out of it. like studying.”

the corner of his mouth quirked up again—just a fraction—as if he found himself amusing.

“oh,” you said softly, suddenly very aware of how dry your mouth had gone.

you couldn’t help but notice the way his blue eyes lingered on you for a moment, giving you the faintest once-over. it wasn’t intense or deliberate, more like a quick assessment—like he was taking you in without even realizing he was doing it.

then, almost as if he caught himself, matt shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, the movement a little awkward, a little unsure. the action should’ve felt insignificant, but there was something about the way he did it—the slight shrug of his shoulders, the way his fingers fidgeted inside the fabric—that made your heart race.

god, why was that so attractive?

you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as you turned your attention back to the spines of the books in front of you, pretending to read them like your life depended on it.

“so, uh…” matt’s voice broke the silence, soft and careful, like he wasn’t used to filling quiet spaces. “micro 101, huh?”

you nodded, trying to focus on the titles in front of you, but your eyes kept drifting back to him. “yeah. it’s… a lot,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

he let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, rocking back slightly on his heels. “it’s a tough class. i remember taking it my freshman year.”

you glanced at him, surprised. “you’re into econ?”

he shrugged, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips again. “i wouldn’t say into. it was more of a requirement. but…” he trailed off, his eyes flickering to the row of books in front of you. “it’s not so bad once you get past the graphs. and the endless supply and demand curves.”

you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips, though it sounded more like a nervous giggle. “yeah, those are the worst.”

matt’s gaze flicked back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. for a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the air between you heavy with unspoken tension.

"you're distracting," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

matt blinked, his lips parting slightly as a faint flush crept up his neck. "distracting?" he echoed, his tone low, almost teasing, but there was an underlying nervousness there—like he wasn't entirely sure if you were serious.

you nodded, your gaze locked on his. "yeah. like... how am i supposed to focus on anything with you right there, looking like that?"

his brows lifted, and for a split second, you thought you might've gone too far. but then he let out a soft, breathy laugh, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "you're kidding, right?"

"do i look like i'm kidding?" you countered, your voice steady even as your pulse raced.

matt stared at you, his blue eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke. when he didn't respond, you took a half step closer, the tips of your shoes brushing against his.

"if you're free," you murmured, your voice dropping to a near whisper, "you could help me... relax. just for a little bit."

his breath hitched, and you swore you saw his hand twitch where it still gripped the edge of the shelf. "relax?" he repeated, his voice softer now, almost uncertain.

you nodded, tilting your head slightly as you let your gaze drop to his lips for just a moment before meeting his eyes again. "yeah. unless you don't want to."

there was a beat of silence, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. and then, as if something inside him snapped, matt surged forward, his lips crashing against yours with a force that stole the breath from your lungs.

the kiss was hungry, unrestrained, a sharp contrast to the quiet and reserved demeanor he'd shown just moments ago. his hands found your waist, fingers digging into your sides as he pressed you back against the shelf.

"you're... impossible," he muttered against your lips, his voice low and strained, like he was struggling to catch his breath.

you let out a soft laugh, your hands sliding up his chest to the collar of his button-up shirt. "so i've been told."

his lips curved into a faint smile against yours before he kissed you again, slower this time, but just as intense.

one of your hands slipped down to his belt, fingers brushing against the leather as you tugged him closer. he let out a quiet groan, the sound sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.

"here?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke.

"why not?" you replied, your voice breathless as you tilted your head back, giving him more access.

he hesitated for a fraction of a second before. nodding, his lips returning to yours as his hands began to roam, his touch tentative at first but growing bolder with each passing second.

you were halfway through pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants when matt broke the kiss, his breaths coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

"wait-hold on," he stammered, his voice a low rasp as his hands hovered uncertainly at your hips. "here? like right here?"

you paused, your lips brushing his jaw as you gave him a look. "you don't want to?"

"no! i mean-yes. i do. it's just..." he trailed off, his blue eyes darting around the dimly lit aisle, as if he expected someone to walk in at any second.

"then stop overthinking," you murmured, your fingers deftly undoing the first button of his pants.

his breath hitched as he looked down at your hands, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "you're-uh-really forward, huh?"

you smirked, your voice dropping to a whisper.

"you're the one who kissed me first."

his lips parted like he wanted to respond, but before he could, you sank to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding down to the waistband of his boxers. his entire body went rigid, his hand shooting out to grip the edge of the shelf for balance.

"oh-oh, god," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

you looked up at him, your eyes catching the way his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as he stared at you in wide-eyed disbelief. "you okay up there?" you teased, your voice soft but laced with amusement.

"uh-yeah. totally. fine," he said quickly, though the way his voice cracked on the last word betrayed him.

his hands fumbled at his belt, fingers shaking slightly as he tried to undo the buckle. but he was taking his sweet time, and the growing ache between your thighs was making it impossible to be patient.

"jesus christ, matt," you muttered, pushing his hands away. "let me."

before he could protest, you pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free him, the cool air of the library brushing against his skin. his head tipped back against the shelf with a quiet thud as you took him into your hand, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip.

"oh, my god," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

you leaned forward, letting your tongue flick over him before taking him into your mouth. his entire body tensed, a shaky gasp escaping his lips as his hand shot out, gripping the edge of the shelf even tighter.

"oh-fuck," he muttered, his voice low and strained.

"this is—holy shit, this is happening."

you couldn't help but smile at his reaction, the sound muffled as you took him deeper. his hips jerked forward slightly, and he let out a quiet groan, his free hand moving to tangle in your hair.

"you're... god, you're really good at that," he rambled, his words coming out in a rushed, breathless stream. "like, wow. i didn't-fuck—I didn't think—"

you pulled back slightly, your tongue swirling around him as you glanced up at him through your lashes.

"matt," you murmured, your voice teasing as your hand replaced your mouth for a moment. "you're not exactly being quiet."

his face turned bright red, his lips parting as he let out a shaky breath. "right. yeah. quiet. got it."

but the moment you took him into your mouth again, all of his resolve seemed to crumble. his fingers tightened in your hair as a low, guttural sound escaped his throat, his hips twitching forward despite himself.

"shit-shit, sorry," he whispered, his voice frantic as he forced himself to stay still. "i didn't mean to-fuck, you're just-"

he cut himself off with a sharp inhale, his head tipping back as his breathing grew more ragged. you could tell he was trying his best to keep it together, but the way his thighs trembled under your hands told you he was close to unraveling.

"this-oh, god, this doesn't happen often," he admitted suddenly, his words tumbling out in a breathless rush. "i mean-it's been a while. like, a long while. like, years. and-fuck-you probably don't care about that, huh?"

you pulled back just enough to respond, your voice low and teasing. "what do you think?"

his breath hitched, his grip on your hair tightening as he let out a soft, almost whimper-like sound. "no," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

his breath hitched, body tensing as he leaned forward, bracing one arm against the shelf above you while his other hand tightened in your hair. his glasses had slid down his nose again, fogged slightly from the heat radiating off his flushed face.

"i'm-fuck," he muttered, voice shaky as he pressed his forehead to his arm. the tendons in his neck strained as he fought the urge to speak louder, to make any noise beyond the soft whimpers and ragged breaths slipping past his lips.

you could feel him trembling beneath your touch, and just as his hips jerked forward slightly, a clear sign he was about to let go, you pulled away.

his head snapped up, his blue eyes wide and glassy as he looked down at you in utter disbelief. "wha-why did you stop?"

a sly smile tugged at your lips as you sat back on your heels, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"because," you said softly, your voice laced with teasing, "i'd rather feel you finish inside me than in my mouth."

his jaw went slack, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red as his hand fell from the shelf to his side. "oh," he managed to say after a beat, his voice barely audible.

you rose to your feet, your hands sliding up his chest as you pressed your body against his. his breath hitched again, his lips parting as you tilted your head slightly, your mouth brushing against his ear.

"but only if you can last," you whispered, your tone playful yet challenging.

that seemed to light a fire under him because within moments, his hands were on your waist, pulling you flush against him as he guided you back against the shelf.

"don't say i didn't warn you," he muttered, his voice low and slightly shaky as he fumbled to position himself.

the first thrust was slow, almost tentative, as if he were testing his own limits. you let out a soft gasp, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he filled you completely.

"fuck," he muttered under his breath, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck as he gripped your waist tighter.

the second thrust was rougher, his hips snapping forward with a bit more force, and you couldn't stop the soft moan that slipped past your lips. his breathing was ragged, his body trembling slightly as he fought to keep control.

by the third thrust, his resolve crumbled completely. his hips stuttered, and a low, guttural groan escaped him as he buried himself deep inside you, his entire body tensing as he reached his release.

you clung to him, your legs feeling like jelly as you struggled to catch your breath. but before you could even process what had just happened, he pulled back slightly, his head resting against the shelf as he let out a shaky laugh.

"you know," he said, his voice still breathless as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "if you think about it, the law of diminishing returns would technically apply here. you know, in a, uh, metaphorical sense."

you blinked up at him, your mind still hazy as you tried to make sense of his words. "what?" you asked dumbly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he gave you a sheepish smile, his cheeks still flushed as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "never mind," he muttered, clearly regretting bringing it up.

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you leaned back against the shelf. “you’re such a nerd.”

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baileysturnz · 12 hours ago

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SHE ATE THAT

In Frame, In Fame, In Fate Part 1 - Roller Rink

summary: nick, a complete stranger, walks up to you out of nowhere, pretending you're his friend to escape crazy fans. You become friends and you end up hanging out with the triplets at a roller rink, where you meet matt sturniolo... <3

c/w: Flirting, hand-holding, cursing, teasing, falling

requested by @mattsslvtzx

dividers by @anitalenia here

proofread by @lailasnight (tyssmmm!! <3)

word count: 1579

Nick stood in the chip aisle, holding a sour cream and onion pringles can, awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact with the group of giggling teenagers who had been following him around the mall and grocery store, despite having already taken pictures with him.

He wanted desperately to go home, but bringing a group of crazy fans straight to his address was the worst course of action.

Suddenly, he spots you in the next aisle over. You had wavy midlength blue hair, a bunch of piercings, and rollerblades slung over your shoulder. Exactly the kind of girl Nick would love to be friends with anyway. He decides to just go for it, really wanting to escape the fans and head back home.

“Hey girl, I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you??” you look up, startled at first. He sends you a pleading look, eyes darting over at the ogling fans not too far away. You immediately catch on, smirking.

“Oh my god hey…” “Nick,” he whispers. “Hey Nick, it's been so long!”

Nick lets out a relieved breath, shifting his weight as he steps closer to you, playing into the act. “Yeah, seriously! What’s it been, like… a year?”

You raise a brow, amused at his lack of commitment to the lie. “More like two,” you correct smoothly, tilting your head. “How’s your mom doing?”

Nick blinks, caught off guard. “Uh—great! Yeah, she’s, uh, doing really well.” He scratches the back of his neck, eyes flickering to the group of fans still watching from the end of the aisle. “Actually, I was just about to grab something for dinner. You wanna walk with me?”

You glance over at the fans and then back at Nick, your smirk widening. “Sure thing, old buddy. Let’s catch up.”

Looping your arm through his like you’ve done it a thousand times before, you tug him down the aisle, grabbing a random bag of chips off the shelf as you go. “So,” you say loudly, for the fans to hear. “Are we still on for that thing this weekend?”

Nick stares at you blankly for a second before quickly nodding. “Oh, totally. Wouldn’t miss it.”

You grin. “Great. You still vegan?”

Nick makes a face. “Never was.”

“Well, you are now.” You toss a bag of plant-based nuggets into his cart, and he snorts, finally relaxing a little.

The two of you continue strolling through the store, casually tossing items into his cart and making up ridiculous stories about your “long-lost friendship.” You can feel the fans watching, whispering amongst themselves, but they don’t approach, eventually seeming to leave.

As you reach the checkout, Nick leans in and mutters, “You’re a lifesaver.”

You shrug. “I know.”

Nick laughs, then tilts his head. “You should come hang sometime. My brothers would think you’re hilarious.”

You smirk. “I do make a great first impression.”

Nick snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you sometime soon,” he says. “Yeah, see you soon!”

And that was not the last time you'd hang out with him.

The second you step into the roller rink, you know exactly how this night was going to go. Nick had texted you a couple days after you met him, asking if you wanted to hang somewhere– you suggested the roller rink.

Nick drags behind the group, already making it clear he has no intention of actually skating. Chris is eyeing the rental counter like he's debating whether or not to commit to the chaos. And Matt? Matt is standing there with his arms crossed, trying way too hard to look confident.

“Are you sure you know how to skate?” you ask, smirking as you sling your rollerblades over your shoulder.

“Sure I do,” he says looking confident. “I used to roller blade when I was a kid.”

Nick laughed, “Yeah, that’s why you were watching tutorials in the car?”

Chris loses it. “Dude, no way.”

Matt glares. “I was refreshing my skills.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Right. Well, let’s see what you’ve got, pro.” You drop onto one of the benches, lacing up your skates with practiced ease. “Unless you’re scared?”

You give him a wink, skating out onto the rink with practiced ease, picking up speed slowly as you roll around the rink. Matt and Chris tie up their shoes, joining you on the rink, unsteadily.

Nick sits right on the edge pulling his camera out “Just to be clear, I’m not skating, just here for the entertainment and content."

“Hey you don’t mind if I film, right.” You look back at Nick, “Yeah, no problem.”

Chris skates over to you, surprisingly smoothly. Matt tries skating out onto the rink after him, immediately wobbling. You bite your lip, trying not to laugh as he moves unsteadily.

“You good?” “Yeah,” he says quickly, trying to regain his balance. He takes a step forward. The second his weight shifts, his ankle gives out, and he flails wildly before catching himself on the back of the bench.

Nick cackles in the back, filming with his phone “HAHA! This was so worth coming for!”

Chris skates past, grinning. “You looked so confident five minutes ago, what happened?”

Matt glares at both of them before looking back at you. “Maybe I just need a—” he hesitates for half a second, then smirks, “—better teacher.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You need me to hold your hand, Matt?”

Matt shrugs, playing it cool. “If you insist.”

Nick chokes on a laugh. Chris skates past again and mutters, “Smooth.”

You shake your head but extend a hand anyway. “Alright, Matthew. Let’s see if you can stay on your feet.”

Matt takes your hand, and the second you pull him forward, he stumbles—right into you. His hands grip your arms, steadying himself, and when he looks up, there’s just the tiniest hint of pink on his face.

He blushes, letting go and standing himself up unsteadily. “Okay, just watch what I do,” you say, showing him how to push off each roller skate. He tries copying you, but stumbles again, as you steady him by grabbing his hand.

You don’t let go, slowly guiding him forward until you are both moving at a slow and steady pace.

Matt stays quiet as you guide him, his grip on your hand firm. He’s trying so hard to act like he’s totally got this under control, but every time his balance wobbles, his fingers tighten around yours just a little.

Chris skates past, grinning. “Aww, look at you two. Adorable.”

Matt glares. “Shut up.”

Nick, still planted safely on the sidelines, smirks. “Nah, I’m enjoying this too much.”

“There you go,” you say, grinning. “Baby steps.”

Matt glares half-heartedly. “Don’t patronize me.”

Nick, watching from the sidelines, taking pictures. “I hope you know I’m never letting you live this down.”

Matt lets go of your hand, a little more confident. “Okay I think I’ve got this.” Just as he says the words, his legs slide out from under him and his arms flailing around, bringing you down with him.

There’s a brief moment of weightlessness before you both go down, limbs tangled, skidding across the rink floor in a mess of laughter and groans.

Chris howls with laughter. Nick finally puts his phone down, covering his mouth to muffle his snickering.

Matt groans, sprawled half on top of you. “Sorry… are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m good,” you say giggling. “I hate this stupid sport,” he mutters.

He got up, face completely red. “Ugh can we go get Mcdonalds or something? I’m done with this.”

Chris skates to the edge of the rink, getting ready to pack up. “Okay, let's go,” says Nick following Chris out of the rink.

You and Matt are left in the rink, slowly making your way to the edge.

“Um, thanks for trying to teach me by the way.” You give him a sweet smile. “No problem”

As you step off the rink, Matt’s grip on your hand lingers, just a second too long. His fingers brush against yours before he finally lets go, almost reluctantly.

“You sure you weren’t holding my hand for other reasons?” you tease, tilting your head with a smirk.

Matt huffs a quiet laugh, looking away for a moment before glancing back at you. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your smirk widens. “Oh, I would.”

He exhales, shaking his head with a small smile. “I swear I’m not usually this bad at skating.”

You grin. “I don’t know, you seemed pretty natural at falling.”

He groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. So that’s what I’m gonna be remembered for.”

You nudge his arm. “Could be worse.”

Matt watches you for a beat, like he’s debating saying something else, but instead, he just smirks. “Guess I’ll have to give you something better to remember me by next time.”

Your brows lift. “What?”

His smirk twitches, almost sheepish now. “Next time. Y’know. If you’re up for it.”

You pretend to consider it, then grin. “Only if you promise to stop falling on me next time.”

Matt laughs, nudging your shoulder. “No promises.”

And as you both head toward the rental counter, you get the feeling you wouldn’t want him to.

“HURRY UP, LOVEBIRDS!” Chris yells from the other room, making exaggerated kissing noises.

Matt rolls his eyes, his face a little red, and calls back, “SHUT UP, CHRIS, YOU’RE AN IDIOT.”

a/n: well well welll thats the end of part 1!!! the fake instagram post took me WAY too long so i hope this does well.

also thank you @mattsslvtzx for this amazing request i would've never though of the idea

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