#m.s. snow

[deadbutcaffeinated]

Comic day!

[4mrplumi]

( crow choir. entry one ) ── dust of snow ( m.s | prev/next )

author's note at the end

you have three brothers- no, two brothers. you’ve only heard of the third. you can hardly think of them as such, feeling traitorous to your old family… families. but you are also a lonely child, so you give them permission to be props of your plain life.

the eldest, with stark blue eyes and dimples at his near-permanent smiles is named richard grayson. he’d given you a warm grin the day you arrived, that somewhat wavered at the blank look you hoped you gave him. you don’t talk to him, but sometimes you wish you did.

you know nothing of the second, apart from his first name; jason. the usual answers to unasked questions, that piece together via general conversations, don’t form here, and you can’t be bothered to ask. you wonder where he is, does he not come to visit?

the youngest of the three is younger than you too, tim drake the butler says, by maybe one or two years, you never tried to figure it out. he came to the house about a few months after you arrived, but seems far more involved with bruce’s business than you ever will be (ever hope to be). there’s a familiar twitch to his brows, and you relate it to old inquisitive roommates, the ones that tried to figure you out without asking questions and always gave up eventually. 

it's a relief he doesn't even try at all.

it does feel a little odd, to not have to talk to anyone just to shoo them away. you strangely miss it, the feeling of being irritated at bothersome small talk. in the silence of the manor, which had not much for a child to do, you start to feel lonely

you've never felt lonely before. alone, yes, isolated, absolutely, but lonely? you've never wanted company. not from anyone who wasn't... forget it.

and thus, you're in an odd situation. you want to be a part of the family, but you have no interest in talking to them. why, the mere idea makes you sweat all over, and you prefer your few meals in your room.

you don't like it. wanting so badly to converse with your brothers, get to know them the way you knew your old previous foster-care siblings, but not being able to.

in your old houses, the children would be somewhat put into forced proximity, there was no choice other than to call out for company. you'd gotten absurdly used to being reached out to without having to do it yourself. your brothers must be busy, or you must be too quiet for them to notice you around.

so with all the courage you could muster, you crept up to an idle older brother, visiting after so long from bludhaven. you might implode from the short moment where he looked at you with confusion, not knowing who you are, before giving you a awkward smile of acknowledgement. no matter, it's not his fault.

he nods off your subtle attempt at asking for his time, maybe you're not being clear enough? it's enough to put you off, so you leave quickly after he gives you a small promise to talk later, maybe get out of the house for a while.

it's such a small thing, but it makes you embarrassed. you try to build up a little stubbornness, and look to find tim. but when you find him immersed deeply in a book, a journal of some sort, you decide otherwise and leave.

it's okay. you'll try again! when you're feeling better. better and livelier.

livelier.

your patterned quilt does little to keep away the monstrous cold of gotham's winter nights, and does it wreck though your nerves and leave you shivering.

the butler; alfred, had given you a good understanding of the room's systems, yet another thing that'd take time to get used to, and you knew the switches that would connect your vents to the central heating system.

but it feels so surreal, and the familiarity of huddling into your own ice cold limbs for warmth is a comfort you can't let go off just yet. you mustn't allow these new privileges to make you forget who you are. what you are, and what you deserve.

you recall a young boy in one of your old homes, discussing earnestly with your 'sisters' about what he'd do if he had all of gotham's money. the prospect of being filthy rich had always irked you to a small degree, to be well-off when others struggle. was it guilt? 

he'd gone on and on about the different things he'd get. a curly-haired poodle, a shining red bicycle, clothes that made him look like a proper gentleman, from a gentler city. you wonder solemnly where he is now, wishing you could share the fortunes you've been shoved into with him. someone who wanted it, deserved it.

deserving... deserving something is odd. whatever makes an individual deserving of something? the hardships they recieve, and the hardships they pass out?

you don’t remember your mother, having gained metaphorical consciousness at the age of six, when your sister started taking care of you instead. you made out from her teary, drunk mumblings that she was an awfully sophisticated woman. she’d colour herself with red blushes and redder lip stains, wear family jewels she refused to sell to her ‘business’ meetings. thin-framed glasses with the eyes of a vixen’s. 

what your sister muttered most about was her many nights away from home. one-sided conversations that plunged a small anchor to your heart, because you knew you were a product of one of them. 

when she was in a bitter mood, your sister never shied away from berating you for your existence. she, unlike you, was born in wedlock. yes, to an unhappy couple, who threw picture frames and cheap souvenirs at each other before splitting up, but she knew her father.

a ridiculously strange thing to hold above one’s head. “i knew my absent father. no one knows yours.” but your depraved heart and dull mind took it so deeply. so, so deeply. 

were those hardships? did you deserve them? others have it worse, right? so do you deserve this? this wealth?

now that you do know your father, you can’t help but resent the idea of knowing. did he know? that he left his child to an unbecoming family and an irresponsible sister? did he know that the guilt of starving your sister to eat yourself made you so incredibly weak-minded at the idea of being full? did he know that you refuse to switch the heater on in the cold, because you don’t know if your old foster siblings got the same luxury? all while the elites of gotham stay in their glasshouses with their rose gardens and wine cupboards.

you can’t put your finger to it. it’s not jealousy, it’s not resentment, it’s not hatred for his absence so far… is it guilt?

you don't know what to do with this abundance of luxury. you’ve lived a lifetime of pet mice from old caretakers, mice that died from the dust that creeped out of cracked floor boards and owls that haunted your window sills. a lifetime of reminiscing about a sobbing woman in your apartment, thinking about all your promises of providing a better life for her, only for her to die in front your eyes. a lifetime of wondering why mommy didn’t come back. why daddy's never there. who daddy even is.

someone else should have it. someone else should have the option to ask the butler for a piece of chocolate pastry at an odd time. to know about their father after countless days of not knowing him. to feel pretty in new dress suits after years of wearing the same two sets of clothes every week.

someone who deserves it more.

your sister.

you miss her.

small events make you change too fast for even your own liking. small things made you so desperately attached to your big sister, small things made you so frightened, so ill, to try to talk to brothers who barely knew you only by your shadow. small things made you tolerate your father more, and mourn the fact you couldn't ever connect to him the way the others did.

small, small things. that troubeled you too much, made you decide it was time to leave. running away from reality in the comfort of your mind when you zone out, is not much different from physically running away, right? troublesome things are not worth the trouble. so you'll run away, and you'll be free. of duties you were never given.

yet another one of gotham’s teenage misfortunes. who leaves a home of riches with a light mind, with the desires of soaring through lost years in gotham like the daftest of pigeons, with no worries or vows. they leave a home of blood and bonds with a heavy heart, lamenting that this time, the choice to leave a permanent, forever family lay on them. they left unspoken conversations unsaid, and imaginary memories within their imagination.

...but, these conversations, these fake memories, become the objects of obsession, for those left behind.

where's the little crow who stalked the corridors, whose naive, cloudy eyes watched from behind walls?

alfred, where's (name)?

INTERACTIONS AND REBLOGS VV APPRECIATED !! incase it was unclear, the sections jump around in the timeline. i did want to leave it to reader interpretation, but since this is the footer, there's no harm in explaining. "you have three brothers..." and "your patterned quilt does little..." are interchangeable within the plot. both are placed after tim's given the mantle of robin, but before jason's re-entry as the red hood. the last part however, is well after both, and damian's entry. anyway you can consider this entry as like, a vague plot summary? there's a lot that happens in between and after, most of the story is about after, but i like setting the ground for this stuff.

once again, if you are interested in the series, do interact! comments, reblogs, etc are so appriciated, to anyone who posts on tumblr! i'll try to get the next entry in soon, but i can't confirm anything!

thank you for reading!!

[sturnsdoll]

NAUGHTY OR NICE ❄ -m.s, c.s (part 2)

part one here summary: your boyfriend matt deals with you after finding his brother fingering you in the restaurant bathroom.

warnings: unprotected sex, cheating, slight choking, shower sex, use of baby and sweetheart. "pink" + reader speaking, "blue" = matt speaking.

the car ride home was filled with you trying to explain to your boyfriend how you'd ended up with his brother fingering you in the bathroom. although matt had set it all up, he obviously still didn't enjoy the thought of it.

he'd said nothing really for most of the drive back to your house, just telling you he didn't really wanna hear it. it felt like hours but after what was probably the most confusing and frustrating drive of your life, the two of you were finally at your house.

still in the midst of his mix of emotions, matt opened the passenger side door for you to get out. you couldn't really gauge his emotions towards you at all right now, it had you fumbling your keys like an idiot when trying to unlock the front door.

with an irritated sigh, matt ended up taking them from you and doing it himself. instantly after his shoes were taken off and stomped of the snow on the bottoms of them, he headed up to your room without another word.

you hurried to get your outside attire off and get upstairs. he had to talk at some point right? did you ruin the relatiosnship? why'd he set you up like that?

the minute you entered your room you opened your mouth to apologize to matt but he instantly spoke over you "wanna take a shower with me sweetheart?" his voice was off puttingly soft, followed by a tilt of his head as he looked you over.

you felt incaptivated by the christmas lights in the corner of your room shining off his eyes as he gave you a sweet puppy-like look. you took longer than usual to respond, feeling dumbfounded. of course you were just happy he still wanted to do something so sweet and intimate with you, he must not be that mad right?

with a hesitant nod you headed off to the bathroom with your boyfriend. shutting the door, you both stripped yourselves of your clothes and matt began running the water. you were the first one to get inside the shower, the glass of the door already fogged up.

he slipped inside the shower now too, your body's lightly grazing at the closeness of the enclosed space. the water streaming down your hair and back was warm but nothing compared to the warmth you felt when matt's hand came to your side, gently guiding you to turn around, facing away from him.

matt's arms slip around your waist slowly from behind, his mouth finding your neck, softly kissing beneath your ear. instantly relaxation and content filled you, feeling relieved at the sweet gestures, again assuming this means he can't be too angry. however it was short lived as soon as he opened his mouth. "were his hands better than mine?" matt's voice is soft and low in your ear. one of his hands slide up over your stomach slowly as he speaks.

your stomach drops a little as you realize he clearly hadn't brought you in here to just wash off. the water, his touch and the reminder of chris being knuckles deep in you earlier were all overwhelming. you lick your lips, shaking your head no in response to his question.

"no? why then?" his question confuses you. your eyebrows knit together as you respond "why what?". one of his hands slip down towards your pussy, dancing just above it tauntingly. his other hand continues up your stomach, skipping over your chest. "why'd you let him touch you?" he specifies.

you let out a frustrated sigh. how can you possibly answer that in any other way then the fact that you were beyond sexually in need earlier, matt had been torturing you all night and his brother "just happened" to come in when she was needier than she's ever been.

at your moment of hesitation, matt's slender fingers wrap around your throat, giving a light squeeze to urge an answer. contrary to the rough action, his head dips down and his lips press light kisses to your shoulder. you're about to respond anxious and unsure before you remember, he's the one who set it up. he let chris come in and touch you, so is it really all your fault? "i dunno, why'd you let him touch me?" there's a bit of irratation in your tone.

despite his attempt to stay angry, matt knows your right. you feel his lips spread into a small smile against your shoulder right before his teeth capture the skin there, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. he hears you gasp, making him smirk a little as he takes his mouth off of you and brings it to your ear, placing another kiss beneath it before responding "santas not coming for a cheater" he teases playfully.

"no? well are you cumming for a cheater?..." following your snarky response, your hand slips behind you to find matt's already semi-hard dick. but you can barely graze it before his hand comes off your throat, grabbing your wrist and pinning it behind your back with a bit of force.

you wanna complain but before you can fully form what to say in your head, his middle finger slides through your folds, collecting wetness from both from the water streaming down your bodies and your own arousal. your hips are already squirming for more when his finger slides through your folds again, just barely grazing over your clit each time.

"matt.." your voice is pleading and matt adores it, but he gives no response beside beginning to suck on the skin beneath your ear. you gasp as the slight pain, his teeth sure to leave a mark behind. his finger is still just teasing along your folds, only giving enough pleasure to drive you insane.

with another annoyed sigh you try again "matt-" you're interupted by his hand releasing your wrist, only to slip around your waist again and tug you back against him. your back flush with his chest. "be nice and stop whining. i shouldn't even be touching you after you let my brother do it for me." he reminds you, but still your boyfriend wants to see you feel good. so before you can respond, his middle finger finds your clit, starting with slow and soft circles that make you bring your hand up to grab the arm that's around your waist, feeling like after the night you've had, you could probably crumble from just his voice alone, let alone his touch.

"gotta give y' somethin' he can't now" matt murmurs as he kisses at your cheek, dissapointingly sliding his hand down to your thigh, leaving your clit aching for more his attention back. you aren't dissapointed for long when matt urges your legs apart. luckily his other arm around your waist prevents you from slipping on the water beneath your feet.

you can feel his erection nudging at your thigh now. matt takes his hand off your thigh now and takes his length into his hands, his long fingers that you so desperately wish were in you begin to stroke himself gently. "y' gonna ask me nicely?" matt teases as he tauntingly slides his tip through your folds. just the slight nudge of him along your wet hole and clit have you letting out a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, wishing you could. there isn't a second thought in your head as your hips gently push at the feeling, wishing you could just get him inside of you. though you'd be lying if you said his teasing wasn't frustratingly hot. finally speaking up "please?" your tone is ingenuine, like you just inpatiently want him to get it on with.

matt lets out an amused scoff at your half assed attempt to move things along. "chris make y' forget how to behave?" he asks as he shakes his head. his hand comes beneath your chin, using one finger to tilt your head back onto his shoulder so that you're looking up at him. just when you think he wants you to beg for him again, lips parting to speak, two of his fingers come to your lips, pressing at your mouth for entry "suck." he tells you firmly.

he has this look in his eyes as he looks down at you that can't be described in any other way than dissapointed. you instantly wanna change it, to please your boyfriend. obediently your lips wrap around his fingers. your head tilts further back onto his shoulder, your wet hair pressing against his skin as you eye him pleadingly.

as matt watches you he has to fight off a grin at how willing you seem to please him. he shoved his fingers further back on your tongue, your mouth filled with his two digits as he holds eye contact with you. too occupied by his intense gaze, you don't notice his hips moving until very abruptly his length is pushing inside of you, stretching you out. he slides himself slowly in all the way without stopping, but watching your features still as to make sure not to hurt you in any way.

your hand grips harder at the arm he has around your waist as you gasp around his fingers, eyes fluttering back a little at the sudden fullness. your usually sweet boyfriend taunts you "you know you don't deserve this right?" he says, shaking his head as he presses his fingers further back towards your throat.

your eyes brim with tears the closer his digits come to your throat, whining out a small "mhm" around them in response. matt gives you a very brief look of adoration, a small smile that lets you know his treatment is only because he knows both you and him much prefer this side of him. he needs you to be aware that despite his anger, he's mostly just playing with you.

his hips begin slowly rocking forwards, his tip fucking right up into every spot inside you it needs to. you can't believe how deep he reaches. matt's jaw falls open just a little, the softest whine leaving his lips.

both from the sound of his pretty noise as well as him being inches deep, you lowly whine around his fingers back at him, nails digging into his arm tighter now as your face scrunches up in pleasure. "that feel good?" matt asks with an amused smile as his fingers finally slip from your mouth. you're nearly drooling from having him repetitively and so slowly fill you up. "uh- huh.." you're voice is whinier than you'd like it to have been. matt clearly enjoys it, his eyes admirably flicking over your face.

matt gently interlocks his fingers with yours before your suddenly pushed forwards. both his hands slide to your wrists, pinning you to lean against the glass wall of the shower so your hips are pushed back a little better for him to fuck you.

"maybe that's why you let him touch you." matt mumbles, half talking to himself as he starts fucking into you harder now, picking up just a little speed to his pace. "cause you're so desperate? take whatever y' can get huh sweetheart?" matt's voice is painfully sweet compared to his mean words.

you whine and moan, wrists flexing in slight discomfort under his grip as you let out a breathy "no..". although he can't see your expression to gauge your pleasure, he most definetly feels it in how you're squeezing him so fucking tight.

a soft noise slips his throat again, his hips picking up the pace even more. making sure you're still comfortable, matt's thumbs slowly stroke over your wrists whilst continuing to pin them to the glass of the shower. "no? i'm sure that's not the story chris would tell me." matt sounds a little out of breath as he's also pretty lost in his own pleasure now. the way your voice gets all pitchy as you squeeze around him only feeds his need to make you both cum.

"gonna apologize t' me?" his voice barely registers in your head as his tip repeatedly abuses your cervix. "or are you fucked too dumb to respond?" his hands squeeze your wrists warningly, a bite to his tone. you finally realize he's asked you something but have no clue what. your eyes shut as you try to focus on anything besides how deep he's fucking into you "huh?" the shake to your voice makes him grin a little. "i want an apology for letting my- mmph" his voice is strained, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass is filling the room, along with water streaming "-for letting chris put his fucking hands on you" matt clarifies demandingly, not really asking.

"'m sorry.." it's all you can really think to say. his dick has your mind a haze. unsurprisingly, it isn't good enough. matt switches how he holds you, he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back in one hand as he tugs you up so your back is flush with his chest again, his mouth at your ear. "are you?" he questions as he lifts one of your legs up a little by your thigh so that he can get a better angle inside of your leaking pussy.

your face tilts to the side so you meet his face, your lips are brushing against one anothers "i- uh god- i am baby" your voice is shaky, interupted with small cries of pleasure. matt watches your gaze as you can barely keep it on him, completly in a daze.

"you can do better c'mon." as he urges you on, his breathing becomes more strained. he begins fucking into you slower but harder again. it's a little uneven in pace, he's close. you find it a struggle to compile words into a coherent sentance for him right now "i'm.. i'm sorry for letting chris touch me. i'm really.. fuck.." as you speak, matt can't help but be in awe of how much your struggling with talking to him. he always feels so proud when he can get you to this point, dumb off of him. "i know pretty girl, i know" his grip on you is tightened as his fore head rests down onto your shoulder.

his hips still for a second as you hear matt curse out your name. his warm liquid is being fucked into you before you even know what's happened. the feeling of him cumming inside you is enough to have your thighs begin to tremble, back arching into him in need to finish as well.

matt opts to let go of your leg and bring his hand around to the front of you to toy with your clit instead. "did chris let you cum earlier sweetheart?" matt questions as his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves again and again and again. your hips squirm at the sensitivity, unable to respond as you shake your head no in response. "aw my poor girl." he teases you, his words and touch making a strangled moan come from your lips. he's satisfied with your reaction, his hips still gently fucking into you, very slowly softening as he rides his high out.

his lips land on your ear, voice soft, "y' wanna cum?". you instantly whine out an approving whine at the idea. matt pulls you back by your wrists roughly "i need an answer" matt demands harshly and you desperately nod "yes. yes please matt"

"then go ahead" his thumb instantly speeds up and it's all you need for your body to be pushed over the edge, almost..

really, it was your mind suddenly filling with images you knew shouldn't be there. that's what really sent you over the edge.

memories of earlier, chris's pretty fingers touching you how matt is, and fucking into you as he cradled your head against his chest in such a sweet way. the way he'd left you so needy. the stress of matt's anger towards you had blocked him out of your mind until right now, you almost wish that you could've known what it was like to have chris hold you how he wants you as he uses you, touches you.. uses you how matt does.

shit, right. your boyfriend matt.

you swear you see white as something else white begins dripping down your thighs, you barely process your body shaking, thighs clenching, breathing shaky and uneven as you come down from one of the best orgasms you've had in a long time.

you quickly push away your thoughts, you tell yourself that it's your boyfriend's touch that had made you cum so hard.

matt pulls everything completely off of you before turning you around to face him and placing a long kiss to your lips. "i love you" matt says sweetly as he reaches over to grab the soap, ready for the two of you to actually shower now.

"i love you too." and you mean it you do.. but guilt fills you as somehow find yourself feeling unsatisfied. not because matt didn't do incredible. he always does. but instead, you're unsatisfied because you have this itch now, an itch to know what chris is like beyond just quickly having tried to get you off in the bathroom. you wanna know how he'd treat you in comparison to matt, if he's soft or rough, maybe a little of both. he'd already been so good with his words earlier, fuck. the things he'd probably say to her as he fucked his brothers girlfriend..

it's an itch you'd never scratch of course.

...

or at least you'd like to think you wouldn't.

merry christmas eve/happy holidays !

tagsᥫ᭡: @ikyoudreamofme @riasturns @ifIIwtmfc @iloveragdollcats @sturnzsblog @crocsarethebest @billieslimbo @mattscoatedcock @mattssslutbby @sturnioloslutttt4 @certified-sturniolo @chrisisbadaf @heartsforsturniolo567 @mattsrod @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @fratbrochrisgf @eyelovedher89 @bernardsbendystraws @riversandwinds @ilovemenwithlonghairr @chrissweatytoes @courta13 @2muchofaslvt @emely9274 @billieslimbo @sturnzsblog @iloveragdollcats

[lilyyy123]

Merry Christmas baby~ m.s

Warnings ⚠️: slapping, rough sex, mean Matt, dom Matt x sub reader, squirting, unprotected p in v

Summary: matts girlfriend has been pushing his buttons all day so he gets payback

A/n: this is so bad and I haven't read it over to if there's any mistakes don't mind it 😇

You were sitting next to the tree with Matt unwrapping presents you got for each other. This was your guys first Christmas together so you wanted to make it special. After you had unwrapped the presents and thanked each other you decided to go outside in the snow.

You and Matt put on your warm clothes and gloves before heading out the back door to your garden. As you walk outside your immediately hit with the cool winter breeze, the snow beneath your feet crunching as you step on it. Matt stands a few feet away, watching you play in the snow like a child when all of a sudden he feels a hard, cold ball of snow hit his face. He wipes the snow away, his nose and cheeks rosy red as he looks up at you with an unimpressed look on his face. As you look at him you can tell he's mad, you've been pushing his buttons all day by giving him attitude subtly (that didn't go unnoticed by him) and just being a brat in general but he hasn't said anything yet because it's Christmas and he wants you to have a good time but this was his last straw.

He walks over to you and grabs you by the arm, yanking you inside. You gasp as he pulls you through the door and into the living room, throwing you down on the sofa. "Matt what are you doing?" You ask quietly. "I'm gonna fuck that stupid little attitude out of you and you're not gonna say a fucking word while I do" he replies in a rough tone, grabbing your jacket and pulling it off you. He grabs you and flips you over so your laying on your stomach before grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and pulling them down, revealing the lacy black thong you had picked out earlier that morning. He groans at the sight of it before delivering a hard slap on your ass. You gasp and let out a small whine before he yanks down your panties, revealing your dripping wet folds to his gaze.

He pulls down his own pants, his hard erection springing free and hitting his stomach. He reaches his hand down, stroking himself and swiping his thumb over his pretty pink tip a few times before running it along your entrance but not pushing in yet. He pushes the tip in before pulling out again, repeating the action a few times. You lift your head off the sofa to look at him over your shoulder "Matt can you just-" he cuts you off by delivering a sharp slap to your cheek before pushing your head back into the sofa. "Don't you remember what I said huh? Not a fucking word from that pretty little mouth of yours." You keep your head against the sofa while gripping the cushions. He slowly pushes in your entrance half way before pulling out again. You whine in response, knowing deep down you deserve it for being a brat.

He pushes in again, bottoming out with a groan before he starts moving his hips. You let out a small whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. "Oh my god" you moan before he puts his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down into the sofa. The sound of your muffled moans and skin slapping together filling the room. You go to say something before Matt pushes your head into the sofa more "what was that baby? Not so confident now huh?" He groans as he picks up his thrusts, slamming into your tight hole. You gasp and reach behind you to slow him down, he grabs both your hands and pin them to your back. He pushes down, forcing you to arch even more. "Oh Matt fuck!" You practically scream as he hits a deeper spot inside you because of the new angle. "Shut the fuck up." He snaps at you through gritted teeth. He stops thrusting for a second to get his bearings. "Oh fuckkkk" he growls before he starts thrusting again. You start to feel a familiar feeling in your stomach. With another hard thrust you feel the knot in your stomach break, clear liquid gushing out of you and all over his cock before he buries himself deep inside you. Filling you with his white, sticky load.

He pulls out, watching his load ooze out of your tight hole. Catching his breath before grabbing a tissue to clean you up and pulling you into his lap. "Merry Christmas baby" he chuckles.

[sturnioloszn]

ICE BOUND (1) - M.S

summary; you accompany your father to his coaching session when your eyes land on his star player and captain, matt sturniolo.

warnings; smut, oral (blowjob), throat-fucking, praising, begging, dirty talk, pet names (just pretty girl lmao), think that's it?

a/n; it was a veryy close poll, but ice hockey matt won by the slightest. also, my next post will be about a taglist, and if you want to be part of it, more info will be there!

P2, P3

It was mid-december, and thick snow covered the ground. The icy winds still managed to bring me goosebumps even when I was wrapped in a large jacket, gloves, a beanie, and a scarf. The snow beneath my worn down shoes crunched with each step I took, and small snow flakes landed on the exposed areas of my face.

"Thanks for coming, y/n," my dad speaks from next to me, breaking me out of my thoughts. We were currently walking through the parking lot to reach the entrance of the local ice rink. I offered to watch one of my dad's practice sessions. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, he was down to this rink training his team of players, readying them for the tournament that was quickly arriving.

"Of course," I say, flashing a small smile. We finally enter the building, a surge of hot air hitting us. I instantly start taking my layers off, discarding them in one of the lockers. I was now much more comfortable in my baggy jumper and jeans.

I made my way to the rink, claiming my spot on one of the back row benches. Not many people came to the practice sessions, usually a parent or some friends, but that was it.

After a few moments, I saw a group of boys alongside my dad walk out of the locker room and onto the ice. My dad forced them to do three laps around the rink to warm up and then the practice actually began.

I watched them intensely, swinging their sticks and making the puck fly from one end of the rink to the other. I knew the basic rules due to the fact that my dad was literally an ice hockey coach, and I grew up around the sport.

After half an hour or so of this, I noticed one of the guys had a 'C' on his jumper. C? Captain? I never knew my dad allocated a captain already. Usually, he likes to mention random stuff like that, but I don't remember him ever talking about this.

Brown strands of hair peaked out through his helmet, and he proudly wore the number 4 and the surname 'Sturniolo' on his back. I don't even recall seeing him on the team at all. I guess the last game I came to see was about a year ago. Still though, kid managed to place captain in less than a year. He must be an ice hockey prodigy or some shit.

My focus remains on him the rest of the time. He glided smoothly on the ice, and his passes were clean. It was clear to see why he was captain. He must have felt me burning holes into the back of his head, and his eyes met mine. I instantly move to look at my shoes. Shit. That's embarrassing.

After almost two hours of practice, they begin to wrap up, and they all head towards the locker room. The last off the ice was the one and only prodigy himself. I walk down the benches as he skates off the ice and takes off his helmet, giving me a clearer view of his face. I go sit next to him on the bench as he's undoing his skates.

"That was a good game," I initiated the conversation, looking down at his red hands fiddling with the laces.

"Thanks, you watch often?" He asks, turning his head to look at me.

"Um, not really, but I know a thing or two," I say, giving a sly smile. He chuckles before looking back to his skates.

"Yeah? Who y'here for?" He asks again, probably referring to one of his teammates. He must think I'm either one of their girlfriends or one of their sisters. Well, I'm neither.

"Your coach," I reply. My answer makes his head snap to look at me; there's a look of shock played on his face. "I'm his daughter," I clarify, smiling once again.

"Oh. I was worried for a second," he breathes out. I tilt my head to look at him.

"Why would you be worried?" I question. He finally pulls his skates off his feet and replaces them with a beat-up pair of air force 1s. Sitting so close to him gives me the opportunity to really look at his face. He has a strong jawline, with defined cheekbones and a beautiful side profile. His hair was a similar shade to mine, and it was parted down the middle. But his most shocking feature was his icy blue eyes; from far away, they looked brown, but up close, they were a beautiful light, frost blue.

"Because a pretty girl like you can do much better than a man like him," he admits, turning to place his attention fully on me. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and I'm sure it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"That's still my dad, watch your mouth," I say, swallowing down my butterflies. He raises his eyebrows and puts his hand up surrendering.

"You know I meant age, you can do better, age wise," he explains.

"Alright then, how old are you?" I ask boldly.

I can tell my question caught him off guard, but nevertheless, he answers, "I'm 19, you?". I tell him I'm the same age, and he just nods. I don't like his silence. It felt wrong. Hearing his voice felt... right? I quickly think of something else to ask to keep the conversation going.

"So... you haven't been here long, have you?". I'm pulling at straws, but it doesn't matter. He explains that he recently moved to Boston with his family and that he needed to find a new team to join so that he could keep up ice skating, so here he was.

I then asked him about being captain and how the hell he managed to claim that title so quickly. He said something about leadership and blah blah blah. To be completely honest, I wasn't listening; I was too busy drowning in his eyes to hear anything that was coming out of his pretty lips. His lips. They were the perfect shade of pink, and they looked so soft and plump. Fuck. He looked so kissable.

I took another look at his face, a dusty pink had settled onto his cheeks, and the beads of sweat that were previously on his forehead had dried down. Every now and again, he'd also rake his hand into his scruffy hair, trying to adjust it, and every time he did do that, I'd nearly melt. He looks edible.

"Are y'even listening?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. I'm slapped back into reality when I realised that I was, in fact, not listening.

"Um..totally...?" I reply. I didn't even convince myself, let alone him.

"What're you thinkin' about?" He asks. He doesn't even care that I wasn't listening. He cares more about what was occupying my mind instead of being pissed about what was coming out of his mouth.

That's a rare trait that many hockey players do not have. Self-awareness. That the world doesn't spin around them. But little did he know that it did spin around him because even though I wasn't paying attention to him speaking, I was only focused on him.

"..nothing," I answer, moving my eyes to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with him.

"Right... well, it was fun talking, but I gotta shower," he says, standing from the bench and looking down at me. No. I didn't want him to leave, but at the same time, the thought of hot water streaming down his soapy body was doing things to me. I feel my underwear dampen at the thought, I push my legs together, and his eyes skip down to my thighs.

He smirks before speaking again, "you know where to find me if you need," and with that, he made his way to the showers.

I went to find my dad, who was wrapping himself back up in his coat, to fight the weather. I tell him that I might actually go for a skate and that I'll make my way home soon. But in reality, I was going to go hunt down his best player.

I waved my dad goodbye and checked around the rest of the building for the rest of the team, but it seemed that they had already left. This is perfect.

I pushed the door to the showers open, and there's a running one. I slowly approach it until I'm standing behind the curtain. Holy shit. The only thing between me and his naked body was a sheet of fabric. What would happen if-

"Were you planning to just stand there quietly, or were you going to say something?" He speaks. My face instantly blushes, how the fuck did he know I'm standing here?

The water abruptly stops, and a few seconds later, the curtain is drawn back. To my disappointment, there was a white, fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. However, a pretty noticeable outline was pressed into the towel.

He spots me quite obviously staring at his groin. "Something you want?" He asks, grabbing another smaller towel and rubbing it onto his hair, drying it slightly.

At this point, my pussy is throbbing. Every word that comes out of his mouth adds another layer of wetness to my panties.

I nodded at his question before lowering myself to my knees. Now, this he didn't anticipate. I cringe at the feeling of the wet patches on my jean-covered knees.

A smirk grows on his lips, "you wouldn't be able to handle it,". Pfft, I'm yet to meet a man whose dick is bigger than their ego.

"Try me," I challenge. He gives me the nod of approval, and I tug the towel off his hips, letting it fall to the ground.

Well. I guess I've met the man whose dick is bigger than his ego now. Let's just say he has a very, very big ego.

I'm taken by surprise when his cock slings free and hits his stomach. I look up at him, and there's hints of desperation plotted on his face.

"How bad do you want me to suck it?" I speak sultry, placing my hands on his thighs, not giving him the relief he craves.

"So fucking bad," he admits, allowing his right hand to move to the back of my head, inching my face towards his tip. I then grab the base of his dick, pumping it painfully slow, watching beads of pre-cum build on his tip.

I stick my tongue out ever so slightly and go to lick up the salty beads that have accumulated. While I'm there, I place a few soft kisses on his swollen tip. By now, his head is thrown back, and his hand is tangled in my hair.

"Shit," he breathed out. I looked back up at him, and his eyes were shut and eyebrows furrowed. He looked so beautiful. I bring my mouth closer and barely take him in my mouth, sucking lightly.

I then ease more and more of himself into my mouth until my nose is almost pressed up against his pubic bone. I low groan escapes his lip. I then pull him out completely, and he shudders at the loss of contact.

"Please, just make me feel good," he pleads. God, could this man get any sexier?? I instantly comply and take him into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks. I move my head back and forth, engulfing his cock. He fills my mouth perfectly.

I then bring the hand that's not resting on his thigh to his balls. I slightly toy and massage them, and the sound that left his lips was heavenly. I take him out of my mouth again and move lower to suck on his balls. He's lost all sense of composure at this stage.

"I n-need to cum... please, please, please," he moans while I move back to his cock. This time, I wrap my lips around him and take a hand to stroke him simultaneously. He bucks his hips forward, forcing me to take most of his length down my throat. It's not long until I feel his legs becoming weak and his moans grow in volume.

He places both his hands on either side of my head, "keep still and let me fuck your perfect throat," he grunts out, and I let him do just that. His tip hit the back of my throat over and over, making me gag on his cock, but this just encouraged him to keep going.

"F-fuck, you're doi-fuckkkk, doing so so g-good for me," he stutters. I can tell he's on the edge of euphoria and I moan around his cock to help him reach satisfaction. I feel his warm, bitter cum shoot down my throat. His hips are slowing down, and he lets go of the side of my head. I swallow his cum completely, sticking my tongue out to show him.

"You're amazing," he huffs out, helping me up from my knees.

"I know, I am pretty great," I grin. I then look down and notice the uncomfortable wet patches on my knees. He notices my discomfort and offers his spare pair of sweatpants, and I don't decline.

Once we're both dry and changed, he offers me a ride home, acknowledging the fact that everyone had already left a very long time ago. The ride home is enjoyable and not awkward at all, which was unexpected. I then realise that we did all of that but I don't even know his name, and I never told him mine.

"What's your name?" I ask, turning to look at him. He was focused on the road.

"Matt. What's your name, pretty girl?" He asks. I blush at the nickname, before responding.

"Y/n, but I prefer pretty girl," I smile. He turns his head to look at me with the same smile played on his lips.

a/n; next post is gonna be regarding a taglist, so make sure to keep updated if you want to be added to that. anywayy, thank you for reading this oneshot, love you all 💙

[sturnswiftie]

'tis the damn season — m.s.

pairing ⟶ matthew sturniolo x !fem reader genre ⟶ angst, pining. word count ⟶ 4.3k

warnings ⟶ smut, unprotected sex, p in v, cheating.

snow blankets the small new england town, turning every road, roof, and branch into a picture-perfect image of the season. it’s the kind of stillness you can only find in winter—the muffled quiet that settles deep in your chest and makes you nostalgic for things you haven’t thought about in years.

you tighten your grip on the handle of your suitcase, gaze locked on the sturniolo household still standing tall before you. it looks the same as it always has with its weathered shutters and the christmas lights strung haphazardly along the gutters. the same inflatable santa bobs in the front yard, defying the frigid wind. it’s all so achingly familiar, and yet you know you’re only paying this much attention to avoid walking up those cement steps and facing the inevitable.

it's a strange feeling being here again, but you don’t have much of a choice. your parents had moved away after you left for college, uprooting the life they’d built here for a quieter one halfway across the country. visiting them for the holidays would have meant burning up the little vacation time you had left from school.

the sturniolos had offered without hesitation. they’d been like a second family to you growing up, and their door was always open. it was a comforting thought—or it would be if it didn’t mean facing the one thing you have to force yourself to stop thinking about.

before you can knock, the door swings open.

matt leans casually against the doorframe, hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy jeans. his hair is slightly mussed, like he’d just rolled out of bed, but he still looks good. he’d never really had a baby face in his teenage years, but somehow the cut of his jaw seems to get sharper every time you see him, the shadow of stubble decorating his pale skin in a way that nearly has you clenching your thighs. what remains almost always the same, however, are his eyes; bright and steady, holding an unreadable expression that flickers briefly only when landing on you.

“you’re early,” he says, voice low and even.

“you’re predictable,” you counter, lips twitching into a half-smile despite the way your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice.

he raises an eyebrow, but you don't miss the subtle twitch of his mouth, like he's trying not to smile back at you. when you think he's going to respond, a light and airy voice cuts in before he can.

“matt? who’s at the door?”

your stomach tightens. you don’t have to see her to know who it is. the cheerful lilt in her voice is unmistakable, and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t spent an embarrassing amount of time looking through photos of her and matt on his mother’s facebook page. try as you might, that whole “forcing yourself to stop thinking about him” thing doesn’t always work.

“i’ll get your bag,” matt says quickly, stepping aside and avoiding your eyes entirely as you step into the painful world of complete nostalgia.

matt’s fiancé, willow, is everything you aren’t. she’s the type of girl that’s effortlessly kind, her smile bright enough to light up a room—forget needing a christmas tree. she reminds you of the kind of girl your mother used to beg for you to be, but she could never quite smooth out your rough edges, much to her dismay. you can’t help but think about how much she would love matt’s soon-to-be-wife, the thought making your gut coil painfully.

willow doesn’t seem to notice. she’s all too warm in the way she greets you, pulling you into a hug like you’d known each other for years.

“it’s so nice to finally meet you!” she breathes into your ear, her enthusiasm genuine. “matt’s told me so much about you.”

“has he?” you question, forcing a smile. but your curiosity is genuine, and you find yourself turning to chris just in time to catch sight of his shit-eating grin.

“you serious? kid couldn’t stop asking about how long you’d be here, when you’d be here. ‘s like havin’ to calm down a kid waitin’ to see santa,” he teases. you know he’s probably exaggerating, especially when matt mutters an obscenity while punching his brother’s shoulder, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads through your body anyway.

in all her perfectness, willow doesn’t seem to think twice about chris’s teasing. a laugh falls from her mouth instead, the pretty girl still beaming as she turns to you and nods.

“he really does talk about you all the time—about growing up here and all the memories you guys share. it’s sweet,” she admits, gaze full of nothing but adoration as her hand finds matt’s once he’s close enough to her, his usually pale cheeks harboring a bit of a pink flush to them now and his smile somewhat uncomfortable.

your heart twists painfully at her words, but your face remains neutral, only mustering up the smallest upturn to the corners of your mouth in response. you’re sure there’s truth to matt talking about you, but it mostly serves to remind you that he’s so curious because outside of these little trips home—which are few and far between—the two of you don’t talk.

you could say it’s because you’re both just so busy, that it’s hard to maintain a friendship with so much distance between the two of you, that your lives are just going in such different directions. but deep down, without a smoke screen and the fear of wearing your heart on your sleeve the way matt always has, you know unanswered texts and missed calls from the boy you’ve always considered to be home has truly driven a wedge—one you feel you can’t dig out anymore.

while matt says nothing about everyone basically speaking for him, you can tell he’s avoiding your gaze entirely, and guilt swirls in your chest even as mary lou and the rest of the sturniolos parade you around the house, showering you with the kind of attention you’ve never been fond of simply because it puts you in the spotlight.

but you let them because you return the love these people have always had for you, a genuine smile resting on your mouth when mary lou finally ushers you to the couch with a warm cup of hot chocolate tucked between your icy hands.

“sweetheart, it’s been too long!” she exclaims, shaking her head. “how’s life treating you? are you eating enough? you’re staying through new year’s, right?” she asks, kind eyes expectant. you can’t help but laugh softly at her string of questions.

“just through christmas,” you correct her, but the words feel hollow in your mouth and guilt comes with the delivery. it never fails to feel as though you’re running every time these trips come to an end.

“you should stay longer,” the older woman immediately responds, undeterred. “it’s not the holidays without you here.”

you breathe out an awkward laugh at that, the rest of the family beginning to chime in about the fact that you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you want, memories of past holidays soon being brought up. it’s all nice, and it makes you feel all the warm fuzzies that you don’t normally allow for yourself, but it doesn’t change your mind.

staying here any longer is dangerous, and you know it. for as long as you can remember, you’d ached to get out of here. growing up in a small town, surrounded by the same people and the same days, drove you absolutely crazy. you’d had big dreams from a young age, and you knew you’d do nothing about them if you stayed here.

as the family chatters around you, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you. you don’t have to look at him to know it’s matt, but you do anyway. he’s leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a quiet intensity. he hasn’t said much since you’d arrived, but then, he’s never been all that talkative. your mouth twitches at the corners, a soft, almost sad smile threatening your visage. you think he might return the sentiment, but you watch with disappointment as he pushes himself from the granite countertop supporting his rigid spine.

“you know where the guest room is,” he finally says, his voice cutting through the chatter.

all you can do is nod as you watch him disappear, your timid smile now disappearing all together, nothing but a quiet “thanks” falling from your lips that he doesn’t acknowledge.

the first night back was always the hardest. the familiarity of everything—the creak of the stairs, the hum of the heater kicking on—is both comforting and suffocating. it should be of no surprise to you when you find yourself waking up in the middle of the night in need of a distraction, but you quietly curse yourself anyway as you pad down the creaky stairs as carefully as you can.

when you turn the corner, you’re surprised to find matt already in the kitchen, his back turned to you as the soft refrigerator light pours over the otherwise dark room. you’re silent for a moment as you stand in the open frame, arms crossed over your chest while you just watch him, relishing in the fact that he’s not staring at you with those longing blue eyes—the ones that seem to be constantly trying to figure you out while simultaneously reading you like a book.

after another few seconds, you finally build enough courage to speak. “couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

when the brunette turns, he doesn’t seem all that surprised that it’s you standing there, but you suppose it isn’t odd. you’d know the sound of his voice anywhere, and apparently it’s the same for him. still, it doesn’t calm the rapid pace of your heart inside your chest when he looks at you.

“usually up around this time anyway,” he admits with a shake of his head. you watch as he reaches for another glass from the cupboard, and then sets it next to his before filling them with water. “willow isn’t great at sharing the bed.” a roll of his eyes accompanies the confession, but you don’t miss the fondness to his voice, and though you laugh quietly in response, it comes out painfully forced.

“you’re, um... you’re really happy, huh?” you find yourself asking, voice barely above a whisper.

a beat passes. matt’s gaze flickers from you to the glass of water his fingers occupy the rim of before finally answering, “yeah. willow’s... she’s great.”

the words hang in the air, their weight pressing down on both of you. you nod, forcing a smile. “she is.”

there’s another few seconds of awkward, tense silence, the only sound heard being the contact of glass against granite as matt slides one of the cups towards you carefully until you can reach it for yourself. you offer a polite smile as you step closer to him, fingers wrapping around the coolness of the glass. you want the uncomfortable weight settling around the two of you to go away, but you don’t know how.

finally, the brunette clears his throat. “you leaving after christmas?” he asks, his voice steady but quiet. you figure it’s just a way to change the subject, but your gaze narrows slightly with curiosity as you look at him, nodding your head once.

“that’s the plan,” you admit, though it feels sour on your tongue.

you watch as he nods, his jaw tightening. “figures.”

your fingers tighten around the glass, eyebrows furrowing. the only light coming through the kitchen window casts shadows across his face, making him look a bit older, more tired.

“matt...”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “don’t. it’s fine.”

you want to tell him that it’s not, that you’re sorry, but you can’t get a word in when a humorless chuckle leaves his mouth, and he begins to shake his head slowly now.

“’m used to you runnin’. it’s been radio silence for years.”

this time it’s you who laughs, lacking the same humor he couldn’t muster seconds ago. “what am i supposed to say to you, matt? ‘congratulations on your engagement?’ ‘happy holidays?’ ‘thanks for letting me crash here while i pretend everything’s fine?’” you ask incredulously, watching as his own gaze hardens.

with his jaw tight, matt sets his glass down on the counter with a little too much force behind it. “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

“don’t i?” you shoot back, the words sharper than you intended.

the air is thick with tension between you, crackling with electricity. it’s almost suffocating as the brunette steps closer, his gaze locked on yours and his large hands anchoring themselves on the granite countertop on either side of you, caging you in. your breath hitches in your throat, and you can only hope that he can’t hear the ridiculous pounding of your heart inside your chest, your mouth pressed into a firm line as you look up at him with curious—yet knowing—eyes.

“this was a lot easier when you weren’t here,” he finally says, his voice low and strained as he studies you.

you swallow hard, knowing you shouldn’t answer him nor entertain this pull between the two of you, but you feel like you’re being tossed out at sea where it’s inevitable to crash into the ocean rocks.

“i know,” you finally answer quietly, but your voice betrays you, shaking ever so slightly, and you know it’s all he needs.

for a moment, neither of you move. then, like magnets, you find yourselves drawn together, his mouth inching closer to yours while you press up on the tips of your toes to meet him there, until finally, you’re kissing him.

it’s heated once the two of you actually connect, matt’s strong hands finding your waist immediately. he uses the grip to pull you against him as if he can keep you there, tethered to this moment despite the truth lying just beneath the surface. you tangle your fingers in his hair, tongue greedy and imploring as years of unspoken feelings spill out in every touch, every breath shared.

as the kiss grows hungrier, sloppier, both of you pouring everything into it—love, anger, regret—his hands roam your back before sliding under the hem of your sweatshirt, his touch searing against your skin.

“tell me to stop,” the brunette breathes into your mouth, his voice breaking. it sends a pang of guilt through your abdomen, but you don’t listen to him. instead, you pull him closer, your hands clutching at his hoodie as though letting go would shatter you completely.

as if frustrated by the fact that you’re letting this happen, matt presses your spine into the counter behind you, his hands sliding from beneath your sweatshirt down to the backs of your thighs where he digs his fingers into your skin for a better grip and lifts you onto the counter, his desperate mouth never leaving yours. the kitchen is freezing, but your body feels like it’s on fire, the heat and frustration between the two of you melting away every last thread of restraint.

clothes fall away in a blur, your breaths mingling in the cold air as his hands explore every inch of you, like he’s trying to memorize what he can never have again—what he knows will be gone soon. you’re still trying to adjust to every sense being so overwhelmed with matt’s presence that you hardly notice the fact that he’s already working on dragging your panties down your thighs, your hips and legs thrashing around on autopilot to help him out.

when his fingers make contact with your sopping pussy, your head almost immediately falls back, a breathy moan leaving your mouth. “fuck, matt. need you so bad,” you admit to him, the groan that leaves his throat causing your pussy to throb with desperation, walls fluttering when the rough pad of his thumb presses down on your clit.

he plays with you for a few seconds, giving into the way your hips buck forward in search of more friction, more attention, but eventually the brunette must decide enough is enough. you watch as he takes his hand from between your glistening inner thighs in favor of pushing his sweats down from their place on his hips, the fabric of his boxers following suit. you’re almost amazed at the sight of him already so hard for you, but you can’t say you’re surprised. being in matt’s vicinity is enough to fill you with the need to ease some of the tension between your legs, so you can understand how the dam of years’ worth of need for one another finally breaking could get him to this point so quickly.

after stroking himself a few times, you watch with hungry eyes as matt pulls you to the edge of the counter, a whine escaping your lips when the tip of his hard cock brushes against your clit. you can tell by the subtle smirk on his mouth that he knows how badly you want it, but you’re too eager to care that he can see right through you in the moment.

“matt,” you say again, his name falling from your mouth this time as a warning not to tease, but he cuts you off with a quick, hungry kiss to your mouth before parting once more.

“say it again.”

you blink at him, breathing heavily as your brow furrows in confusion. “what?” you breathe out.

“that you need me—say it again,” he elaborates, and while sirens immediately go off in your head, your heart aching at the desperate gleam in his pretty blue eyes, you find yourself swallowing thickly before nodding slightly.

“i...” you trail off, watching his eager expression carefully, knowing you shouldn’t.

but you’re selfish.

“i do. i need you, matt.”

you don’t have time to feel guilty. your mind goes completely blank when he finally pushes into you, it not being gentle, but not completely careless either. it’s everything—raw and frantic, but deeply, heartbreakingly intimate. you cling to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

it doesn’t feel like just sex, but a confession. a plea. a goodbye.

as if reading your mind, matt’s voice breaks through the haze of your chaotic mind. “why do you always leave?” he asks, his voice rough and barely audible as he moves inside of you.

tears sting your eyes, but you don’t answer. you can’t. instead, you pull his face from your neck and kiss him, swallowing the words you can’t bring yourself to say.

i have to.

if i stay, it’ll ruin you.

it’ll ruin me.

when he finally pulls away from your mouth, you bite down on your lower lip to stifle a cry as he fucks into you deeper, his movements desperate, like he’s trying to convince you to stay with his body since words are failing him at the moment. you can feel in his movements that he blames himself for this, and it breaks your heart. you don’t understand how he can believe this has to do with anything other than the fact that you’re entirely a coward. that allowing yourself to feel what you feel for him scares you. that it could make you stay.

“i hate this,” matt whispers to you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“i know,” you choke out, tears slipping down your cheeks. “i do too.”

his rhythm slows with the moment, his hands moving to cup your face as he kisses you softly now, the intensity giving way to something tender, almost reverent. it’s like he’s trying to say everything he never had the courage to despite knowing it’s too late—that nothing could have changed the outcome of this.

and then, with the realization, his hips are moving again, picking up in pace, and your head feels fuzzy. he’s fucking you like he hates you—like he loves you—and your heart clenches in your chest at the same time that the walls of your pussy begin to flutter around his relentless cock.

“matt, oh my god—i’m coming!” you cry out to him, one hand digging into the middle of his spine while the other cradles the back of his sweaty head, pressing his face further into the crook of your neck where his hot, labored breath hitches against your damp skin.

each slow, deliberate movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, but it's the intimacy of it—the way he holds you as though you might vanish—that makes it almost unbearable.

you come with a string of cries, some jumbled and indecipherable, and some of his name, your body jerking with the ripples of your orgasm that he works you through with his fingers against your puffy clit. your nails rake across his back as you listen to him murmur your name like it's the only word he knows, his breath hitching as he buries himself deeper inside of you. his previously perfect movements falter with his orgasm, fingers tightening on your hips like he’s afraid you’ll slip away as soon as the moment is gone.  

he doesn’t move when it’s over, instead pressing his forehead into your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut while soft shutters wrack his body. you can feel just how tense every muscle is, his hands clinging to you with a desperation that mirrors the one buried in the depths of your being. but it's still not enough. it still doesn't change anything.

“you’re still leaving,” he says after a long silence, his voice breaking. your lower lip trembles, and you’re glad he can’t see you just yet.

“i have to.” you nod, your fingers brushing through his short hair.

you watch as matt pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dull and glassy. “you’re gonna ruin me,” he breathes out, his voice cracking at the end. “y’know that, right?”

again, you nod, your chest tightening painfully.

you don't have the heart to tell him you already have.

morning light streams through the window, golden and soft, but it only makes the heaviness in your chest worse. your bag sits by the door, packed hastily in the early hours of dawn while the house was still quiet, the weight of everything practically crushing you.

matt hadn’t spoken to you after last night. you hadn’t expected him to. after sneaking back upstairs, the realization had hit you like a tidal wave: nothing had changed. what you and the brunette shared in the kitchen—desperate kisses, the raw and aching connection, the unspoken words in every touch—hadn’t erased the fact that he’s engaged, and you don’t belong here anymore.

when you finally build the courage to head downstairs, nobody is awake, and you’re grateful. and you’re painfully aware of how incredibly cowardly it is, but running without the offer of closure has always been the more appealing option for you. it leaves no room for confrontation and hurt, or at least none that you have to face until you’re all alone again with regret and hatred swirling deep within your aching core.

you’re already thinking of what you’re going to say later when you inevitably receive a few confused and probably hurt messages about the fact that you’re leaving unannounced when matt finds you by the front door. the same hoodie he wore last night hangs loose around him, his face unreadable, though his eyes carry the storm you’ve come to know too well.

“leaving already?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

you inhale shakily, but nod, fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. “yeah. figured it was time.” figured it was easier like this, is what you don’t say, but you don’t have to. he knows. and you know he hates you for it.

you watch as he steps closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. there’s a pause, and then, “last night—”

“don’t,” you cut him off softly, shaking your head. “please, just... don’t make this harder than it already is.” your voice is quiet, and it breaks at the end, but otherwise your expression remains neutral.

the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything you refuse to say. the words press against the back of your throat, tears threatening the corners of your eyes, but you know better than to ever let any of it escape. words won’t fix this. they won’t undo the lines that have already been crossed or change the fact that you’re leaving. again.

“i mean it, you know,” matt says suddenly, his voice breaking, “that you’re taking a piece of me with you. that you’re ruining me.”

your eyes burn, but somehow you force a wavering smile. you want to tell him that you’re leaving a piece of yourself behind, but you don’t.

“isn’t that the way it’s always been?”

he doesn’t answer, but the look on his face says enough. his jaw is tight and his fingers twitch inside his pockets, flexing and unflexing. he hates you.

but his chest heaves, quickening with the beat of his aching heart, and his eyes are shiny with emotion you always seem to elicit. he loves you.

as you step outside, the cold air bites at your skin, but it feels like a relief compared to the suffocating weight of the house, of what waits inside for you. every day. every year. you don’t look back, but mostly because you can’t.

as you drive away, the road stretches out before you, empty and endless, but your heart stays behind—a piece of it, anyway. a piece you know you’ll never get back.

you’ll come back to this town some day—maybe next christmas or the one after that. but you know it won’t matter. the hurt will still be there, lingering like the ghost of what could have been.

matt, however, you know you’ve lost. and you can’t help the shaky smile on your lips as you leave yet again because you absolutely deserve it.

©sturnswiftie

divider credit; @issysh3ll.

[st9rnb]

ֹ ₊ @st9rnb presents.. day 5 / 12

mistletoe ౨ৎ - m.s .ᐟ

its a cold, chilly afternoon outside. as christmas comes closer everything feels more festive each passing day. the fluffy snow covering the trees and ground, as mistletoe’s are hung up.

you and matt lay in bed, snuggled up with eachother under layers of blankets.

the past week you’ve been stressed out with buying christmas presents for your family and friends, and matt has definitely took notice.

“i’m—just ugh..” you start, matt cutting you off “baby relax..i’m here, deep breaths..i dont want you stressed out” he frowns, his hand moving up and down on your arm in a calming motion.

“i-just” you start again. “i know baby” he coos back, running his fingers through your hair as his fingers continue lazy patterns on your arm.

you and matt sit in silent for a good five more minutes, his hand slowly moving down your body.

his hand rests on your inner thigh as you calmly lay in eachothers arms

as you’re distracted, matt swiftly pulls your panties to the side, you look down, letting out a shaky sigh.

“shh..sh..baby” he mumbles quietly, running his finger up and down against your heat.

“matt..” you whine desperately, his finger slowly dips in, your breath hitching in your throat.

you lean your head back as your eyes flutter shut, getting lost in the pleasure, his fingers moving circles on your bud slowly.

overtime he picks up the pace, moving his middle and ring finger faster and faster.

you choke out a moan of pleasure, slowly grinding your hips against his hand, matching his rhythm.

matt lets out a quiet whimper from you moving your hips along his crotch.

you let out a final moan as the string in your stomach snaps, your orgasm hitting like a wave, you arch your back, hips snapping up.

you fall back down onto matt, head on his shoulder, your breath evening out

his lips press against the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair

“y’okay baby..?” he whispers, you nod slowly in response.

you lay in each others arms silently, snow hitting the window, the light smell of sex and candles throughout the air.

you move your head up, pressing your lips to his, smiling softly. you look up, a mistletoe hanging up above the both of you.

not spell checked

an : hii i hope you enjoyed this, wrote most of this while watching their stream……

- brook ֹ ₊

taglist ( if you wanna be added )

@matttsangel @submattenthusiast @goingtojohnkramershouseee @emely9274 @cayleeuhithinknott @brookheartsmatt @bendettasbows @slut4chris888 @dominicfikeenthusiast

[aesthetixhoe]

posts while dating matt sturniolo — M.S.

warnings: cursing, obvi, like one sex joke

pronouns: she/her

authors note: i know they live in california so there's no snow, hush, idc

liked by Nicolassturniolo, Tarayummy, Matthew.Sturniolo, and 702,403 others

[y/n].[l/n] jinkies! 🧡💚

Matthew.Sturniolo I can help you find your glasses

| Nicolassturniolo OR FIND THE DOOR! GROSS

Tarayummy ur sweeter than candy 😋

| [y/n].[l/n] you would know ;)

Samgolbach you should do a ghost hunt with us then, Velma

| [y/n].[l/n] I would make the ghost talk immediately, I'm too good at the job

Liked by [y/n].[l/n], Nathandoe8, Christophersturniolo, and 494,425 others

Matthew.Sturniolo late night adventures

[y/n].[l/n] 🩷🫶

Nicolassturniolo why's she sittin in your lap 🤨

| Nathandoe8 she took my spot

| Matthew.Sturniolo I have a leg for you, and a leg for her

Liked by Samgolbach, Tarayummy, Matthew.Sturniolo and 739,449 others

[y/n].[l/n] I drag him everywhere

Tarayummy walk him like a dog sis

| [y/n].[l/n] I always do

Nicolassturniolo get him a leash atp

| [y/n].[l/n] only if he's into that

| Christophersturniolo WOAH

| Matthew.Sturniolo I AM NOT FOR THE RECORD

| Nathandoe8 thats not what you told me...

Liked by Christophersturniolo, [y/n].[l/n], Nathandoe8, and 503,130 others

Matthew.Sturniolo ❤️‍🔥

[y/n].[l/n] twinning 😋

Nicolassturniolo 🧌

| [y/n].[l/n] :(

| Nicolassturniolo [y/n].[l/n], not you, matt

| [y/n].[l/n] oh ok! :)

Christophersturniolo lame ass caption 🥱

| Matthew.Sturniolo lame ass face

| Christophersturniolo WE HAVE THE SAME FACE

Liked by Christophersturniolo, Nicolassturniolo, Matthew.Sturniolo and 831,584 others

[y/n].[l/n] I love my, love my, love my little calendar girl

Matthew.Sturniolo calendar BOY

| Christophersturniolo calendar baby more like

| [y/n].[l/n] I don't hate the sound of that

Liked byTarayummy, Matthew.Sturniolo, Nicolassturniolo, and 493,741 others

[y/n].[l/n] always holding my hand

Tarayummy cutie patooties

Matthew.Sturniolo YOU hold MY hand

| [y/n].[l/n] THEYRE WARM CAN YOU BLAME ME??

| Matthew.Sturniolo GET WARMER HANDS???

Nicolassturniolo cute I guess ���

Liked by Nicolassturniolo, Nathandoe8, [y/n.[l/n] and 593,223 others

Matthew.Sturniolo she forced me

[y/n].[l/n] LIAR! you loved it.

| Matthew.Sturniolo Nuh uhhh

Nathandoe8 hot stuff

Tarayummy shes mine >:(

| [y/n].[l/n] I have enough love for both of you

Liked by Tarayummy, Christophersturniolo, Matthew.Sturniolo, and 724,948 others

[y/n].[l/n] life lately >>

Tarayummy hey that's me!!

| [y/n].[l/n] you know it babe 😘 best party ever

Christophersturniolo she put that sticker on me

Nicolassturniolo the shit you guys get up to in your bedroom is insane. Even the pg stuff

| [y/n].[l/n] I'm an acrobat, what can I say 😊

| Matthew.Sturniolo and I squat

| Christophersturniolo you sure?

Liked by [y/n].[l/n], Nicolassturniolo, Nathandoe8, and 450,103 others

Matthew.Sturniolo damn it feel good to have you

[y/n].[l/n] ur my person

| Matthew.Sturniolo ur mine

Nathandoe8 king

Christophersturniolo j cole? 😲

Tarayummy shes MINE actually

[mintsturniolo]

She Said Yes (m.s)

biker!matt x f!reader

a/n: merry christmas everyone ❤️💚🤍

summary: the title says it all

Christmas had always been your favorite holiday. Especially since you and Matt had started dating. You loved being with his family during Christmas. You guys had been in Boston since early December which meant you had gotten to participate in all the family traditions that they had. You were currently in the kitchen talking with Mary Lou while the two of you cleaned up from the big meal she’d prepared. “You really didn’t have to make that cranberry pie,” you told Mary Lou, referring to the dessert she’d prepared just for you.

“Nonsense,” she replied with a smile. “As soon as Matt told me you’d be with us I planned to make it.”

You were about to reply when Chris burst into the kitchen. “Is it crazy that I’m still hungry?” he asked going straight to the fridge.

“We just ate,” Nick protested, following behind his brother.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s plenty of leftovers,” you told the youngest triplet, before going back to your conversation with Mary Lou.

“Hey babygirl,” you heard your boyfriend Matt say, and turned around.

You raised an eyebrow when you saw him fully dressed in his biker gear. Both helmets were in his hands, as he approached you, leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Wanna go for a ride?” offering you one of the helmets.

“Right now?” you asked, glancing at the pile of dishes that you still needed to help with.

Matt nodded eagerly. “I really want to spend time with you right now.”

Before you could reply, Nick took the pot you were holding. “I’ll help mom. You go ahead.”

You noticed the triplets and Mary Lou exchange looks, but you couldn’t figure out what was going on. Shrugging, you accepted the helmet that Matt was still holding out to you. “I should get my jacket though. For safety, you know,” you said.

“It’s with the bike,” Matt told you. “The dark grey one you really like.”

You could help but smile as the two of you made your way into the garage where sure enough your favorite leather jacket was laying across Matt’s motorcycle. You put it on and looked up at him. Matt nodded in approval before placing your helmet over your head. As he fastened the buckles, you playfully pulled down his visor. “Oh no you don’t,” Matt laughed, picking you up, and placing you on his bike. “Ready?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend as the motorcycle roared to life. You rested your head on Matt’s back as the two of you drove through town. As much as you loved having your own motorcycle, you always felt safe when Matt would let you be the backpack. You sighed contently, admiring the Christmas lights sparkling against the snow covered sidewalks.

You raised your head when Matt slowed down in front of your favorite Christmas tree lot. It had been your favorite place to go since your first Christmas in Boston. Matt got off the bike and gently lifted you off. “I thought you’d like a little walk among the trees,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your waist.

The two of you walked in silence for the first couple of minutes, just taking in the beautiful sights around you. The left over trees had been lit up, and a light snow had started to fall as the two of you walked. “I think we should stay a couple days extra,” you blurted out, and Matt looked at you.

“Oh?” he asked.

You shrugged as you stopped to admire a nearby tree. “I just really like it here. Just a day or two?”

“Yeah. I think we’d all like that,” Matt replied, seeming to suddenly get shy.

You glanced up at him, and noticed he was nervously chewing on his lip as he watched you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, with raised eyebrows.

“Nothing,” Matt replied. “I just…”

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Matt nodded and took a breath. “I just really need to get this off my chest,” he said shyly.

Seeing how anxious he was you decided to stay silent and let him say whatever it is he wanted to say. You nodded and Matt took your hands in his. “These have been the best two years of my life,” Matt told you. “We’ve gone through so much and I know it hasn’t been easy, but you’ve changed the way I look at the world…”

Your eyes filled with tears as you listened to what Matt was saying to you. It was like you were falling in love all over again. Matt smiled at you, clearly getting more comfortable. “You are my world. I fall in love with you more every single day. You show me nothing but love and have made me the happiest I’ve ever been…” he continued, his hand reaching into his pocket.

Your eyes widened as Matt pulled out as small box. “…and if you give me the chance, I’ll spend everyday of my life trying to make you feel the way I have these past couple of years.”

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped as Matt lowered himself to one knee and opened the box, revealing the ring inside.

“Will you marry me?” he asked as he looked up at you.

You nodded as Matt gently pushed the ring onto your finger. “Yes. Oh my God. Yes, I’ll marry you Matthew,” you sobbed as Matt stood up and hugged you.

You couldn’t stop looking at the ring on your hand as you processed what had just happened. You leaned in, and gently kissed Matt. “I love you so much.”

Matt kissed you back, before taking a look at your hand. “It looks good on you.”

* time skip *

You hadn’t stopped looking at the ring on your hand since the two of you had left the Christmas tree lot. Matt kept a hand on your waist as you walked into the house. The family got quiet when they saw you. Matt couldn’t contain his smile as he took your hand. “She said yes,” he announced before pulling you close and kissing you.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos @ivysturnss @ksturnz @emely9274 @amelia-sturniolo3

[sturnioloisland]

Christmas Season | M.S.

Pairing: Matt x GN! Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Just headcannons and whatnot about you and Matt during Christmas time.

Calling it the most wonderful time of the year would almost be an understatement in his opinion. Yes he loves fall and thrives during that time of year, but there’s something about Christmas that just brings him some extra cheer.

Matt loves helping you decorate your house for Christmas, especially when it comes to the Christmas tree. He loves admiring all the different ornaments you have and seeing the lights twinkling on the branches.

He easily convinces you to bake different types of Christmas cookies under the guise that he is absolutely going to help you. In reality his help just includes taste testing the cookies once they are done

He’s not the biggest fan of going out in public around Christmas time due to the sheer amount of people that are always out during the day, but he makes the exception for you. He helps you pick out gifts for your family — secretly he is looking out for things you admire for gift ideas for you.

If you travel with him back home to Boston, he’s definitely taking you outside to play around in the snow — with Chris and Nick coming along as well. It’s almost like all of you go back to being little kids, snowball fights, building snowmen, and making snow angels.

Days like those would end with you, him, and the rest of his family drinking hot chocolate together while watching whichever Christmas movie was decided upon — after multiple rounds of everyone arguing which one to watch.

He definitely gets bashful when opening the gifts you got him while you’re sitting in front of him. He’s scared he might not have the “correct” reaction you want from him, when in reality, deep down he appreciates absolutely everything that you get him.

Steals quick kisses from you whenever you both pass under a mistletoe.

Reluctantly agrees to where matching Christmas pajamas and fuzzy socks with you after much convincing on your behalf.

Goes above and beyond when buying any gifts for you even though you’re consistently urging him that it’s not needed. He knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything expensive or dramatic for Christmas, but he uses the gift giving tradition of the Holiday to express how much you mean to him. All of his gifts have thoughtful meanings and aren’t bought just to check items off your list. There is a reasoning behind each one.

Has given you coal for Christmas at least once, and it was the cheap plastic coal that one could find at the dollar store — as a joke of course.

[anakinsbaee]

misses pt.2 - M.S

summary: in which you finally meet matt again after a year of no contact, trying to push out the truth from matt

warnings: use of y/n, not proofread, exbsf!matt, y/n used to like matt, no smut, angst, sad, mention of love next ->

You stared down at your shoes, the chill of the wooden bench seeping through your thin pajama pants, biting against your skin. Your hands moved restlessly, rubbing together to conjure any warmth they could find. Despite your best efforts to turn this visit into something positive, the loneliness crept in like a cold draft, impossible to ignore. You slipped in your earbuds, the faint sound of music filling your ears as you hummed along, trying to drown out the silence that pressed in from all sides.

Just a few years ago you were hanging out with all 3 of them. It was all so exciting, so new and cozy. Matt understood me, he knew me. So well. He could never be mistaken.

Matt made winter warmer and cozier. He made you wanna go drive around He made it fun to go to school. He made you fall in love with autumn. He made you fall in love. Fall. In. Love?

That word wasn’t familiar anymore to you, even though it was something you never spoke of.

You hate winter, for it reminds you of the biting chill in the air, And how unfriendly the snow can be, blanketing the world in its icy indifference.

You hate school, it reminds you of the hours of your life you’d spend with your love of your life, pouring out your soul to him. But all that time now felt it as if it was cut in the unseeing pieces of you crushed up and brushed under the rug

You hate autumn, you hate how all the leaves slowly fade away, curling into themselves, timidly hanging off the once full of life tree, now just a painfully sorrowful and uninviting sigh, and you just have to observe, the nature reversing the birth of something so beautiful, now reachings it’s end of it’s time. You can’t stop it.  

Just like you couldn’t stop Matt.

A few moments pass by, you sat alone as you tapped your shoes against the concert pavement along to the music, observing the nostalgic park that once used to be so colourful, now so dull.

You heard distant footsteps as your music wasn’t as loud, you still wanted to hear the trees swishing in the wind, and the cars humming against the road.

The footsteps come to a halt.

A tall figure stands, his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice, in an almost shocked or confused tone. The cold air puffs out of his mouth as he speaks.

You looked up, your brows furrowed, caught in the haze of memories that once brought comfort but now stirred only distress and nausea. The voice held a faint trace of familiarity. You stood slightly hunched, your puffer jacket as poofy as ever, hands buried deep in your pockets, desperately seeking warmth.

“Matt?”

Your jaw dropping almost immediately. Your stomach stringing knots, a feeling that brings you comfort. Whenever you saw Matt that feeling would never go away.

“What the- What’re you doing here?” He asked me, pulling out one of his hands from his pocket to rub his neck.

You suddenly couldn’t speak, anxiety cripples over you. I can’t mess this up.

Is this a dream? 

Your voices get caught in your throat.

“U-um, I’m just- trying to get a break from all the work.” You cleared your throat. 

Obviously you wouldn’t say; ‘I’m just so in love with you I can’t get over you and I needed to come here and reminisce all the times we had together in this park. And how I almost confessed to you but Chris and Nick both felt sick so you had to drop me off and I never even thought of doing it again.”

“Oh, obviously.” He shook his head. “Um, it’s weird to see you here, at 5- almost 6am.” He chuckled dryly.

“Same to you. I thought- you were at L.A?” You took out your earbuds to hear his sudden urge to leave you and not only without a message, without an update or any contact.

His eyes widened at the sudden question. “Oh. About that, I’m sorry I never talked to you. I just- I couldn’t get the courage to tell you, that’d-” He cut himself off. His head falling into his free hand.

“I couldn’t tell you that I was moving there.” He said sternly. He rubbed above his eyebrows with his thumb and index finger. “I never understood why you wouldn’t tell me that, especially after you told me specifically that you’d never move there.” 

You let out a heavy sigh, the hurt and frustration clear in your voice. But none of that mattered—you needed to know what was running through his mind at that very moment.

“Our manager, we just listened to her. And I feel like I just betrayed you– And I know, I’m so, so, so sorry.” His brows furrowed, a silent plea in his eyes, desperate for you to understand.

You shook your head softly and chuckled. “You know me. You. know. me, Matt. That’s the crazy thing.”

You got up from the bench, and a gust of wind made shivers run down your spine. The dawn’s threatening wind howls at you, expressing that suppressed anger you felt rushing through your blood.

“I wouldn’t ever get mad at you for leaving to move to L.A, yeah sure I’d be confused but that’s the thing. I love you enough to understand.” You spat out, your brain not registering anything. You were fuming in anger. Tears brimming your eyes, you just wish it could all stop and it’d just be a crushing and unforgettable nightmare.

“I love you?” He repeated. He tried to hold in his sadness.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” He asked, his voice a fragile whisper, nearly lost in the mournful wails of the wind.

You didn't even feel surprised, not a flicker of shock or self-reproach in your eyes. You just spoke the words, as if they'd been waiting on your lips all along.

You meant every word—you loved him, and you had for what felt like an eternity.

Since freshman year. Now you’re in your 3rd year of University. Seven years of silent eye contact stretched far beyond their welcome, A longing gaze that lingered longer than either of us ever imagined. What began as a fleeting moment has swelled into a restless ache, A quiet storm that stirs the heart and keeps me awake at night.

“I didn’t tell you because it would ruin everything I wanted not to slip away from my grasp, I didn’t want my love to drive me away from this– and not that it worked, you still left. You left a hole through my already tender heart. I haven’t healed, not even a bit. I’m sore, I can’t sleep, can't eat. I can’t do anything.” You sniffled, desperate tears, threatening to escape, tingling your inner corners of your eyes. Leaving them red.

“You tore a jagged hole through my tender, forgiving heart,

Vanishing as if you were never meant to be seen.

You slipped away, a shadow in the night—

Quietly, cruelly, and without a trace of regret.”

Is exactly what I journaled in my book almost every time. It was the only way I could express it.

Words were my thing.

Our thing.

I’m sorry,

I loved you.

erm so this is very bad i hate the way i worded it but i think it turned out better than expected. (but i still dont like it)

tags: @starkeyszn

comment to be added to the taglist :)

[deadbutcaffeinated]

Update day!

[thecynthh]

Gift — M.S.

synopsis • matt gives y/n a present since she passed her exams for the term

warnings • cotton candy fluff, my shit writing

notes • college setting, f!partner, matt n u r dating

author chats • this is my first ever fic !! please give feedback i need validation

also i’ll write a pt 2 with smut in it if yalls like this one 🤗

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck, chain round my neck

not because he owns me, but because he really knows me

Y/N’s POV

heavy tension finally clears from my shoulders as i take a step out of the thick classroom door. my feet automatically start my treck to a local coffee shop near my building. barely taking a few steps out the door my phone begins to buzz with excitement.

matty b❣️

the nickname flashes on my screen as i pull out my cell phone from the back pocket of my cargo pants. clicking the screen immediately after processing who it was.

“hello?” i say whipping my phone up to my ear.

“hey pretty girl” matt replies to my initial greeting. “so tell me, how’d it go?”

“personally i think it went phenomenal and to make it even better i KNOW it was super amazing” i explain absolutely thrilled by my amazing scores

unlike matt going through school was a necessity. i needed to succeed and i’m glad i had as great as a support that matt has been for the past year. my dream was so close all thanks to him, if he didn’t pull me out of that anxiety slump and put me back to work so soon i would’ve failed this exam.

i soon make it to coffee shop after asking matt how his day went and then getting greeted by the same barista whose been working there since i started at Eastwood.

“by the way i just made it to the cafe, im just going to pick up my coffee then i can head to your place to hang out” i tell my phone. the barista asks if my usual is good in a hushed voice seeing my phone up to my ear. i nod to him while walking over to the pick up side of the counter.

“actuallllyyy you can go straight to your apartment, i have a surprise for you” matt says showing excitement for what he got for me.

“matt, you can’t do this to me, im gunna cry” i reply with a fake teary voice.

a small chuckle echos through my ear. “you deserve it princess, all of it.”

“okay i’ll be home soon, i won’t make you wait much longer, love ya.” i snatch my drink and take a peak outside, snow fell from the coveted sky. matt would love how pretty this weather is.

Matt’s POV

“i love you too-“ that was all i could squeeze in before she hung up on me.

right now i just made it into y/n’s apartment waiting on her to get home, i bought a bouquet of red roses, which were here favourite, and i saw the prettiest necklace and i knew i had to get it for her.

it was held in a small velvet box waiting for its owner to claim it. opening it caused a small showcase light to illuminate the silver “m” that was a matching silver chain.

i thought about her when i saw it on the small mannequin. the only thing that played through my mind while i purchased it was that one taylor swift song she loves. i know swift isn’t really my vibe but she won a bet and got the aux for the car ride, it was catchy but i’ll never admit to liking taylor swift.

soon after fixing the bouquet i hear the lock on the door click and unlock. i hold up the flowers standing near the door with the necklaces box burning a hole through my jean pocket.

the door swings open revealing my girlfriend. my lovely girlfriend. her eyes lit up with glee as she looks at the bouquet in my hands.

Y/N’s POV

all i see is matt with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands and sweet smile drawn on his face.

i yank the large amount of red roses from his hands placing them down carefully on the coffee table near us and dive into his arms.

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” i blurt out between each peck on his face. matts face lightly covered in a deep red lipstick he still just stands there waiting for me to done.

“of course princess, im really proud of you for finishing that exam.” he says to me pulling me in even closer.

“but to make it even better….” he trails off while sneaking is hand into his jean pocket. out comes a small jewelry box, he opens it presenting a necklace with his initial on it.

“i remember that song you like a lot, i don’t remember it all too well but i knew it meant a lot to you so-“

“i love so fucking much matty. you have no idea” i rest my forehead against his and slowly connect our lips.

he returns the kiss slowly with his hand snaking around the small of my back tugging me a little closer.

i’ve never wanted to be anywhere else in that moment.

[preraphaelitepaintings]

The Enchanted Garden

Artist: Marie Spartali Stillman (British, 1844–1927)

Date: 1889

Medium: Pencil, watercolour and bodycolour heightened with gum arabic on paper

Collection: Private collection

Description

Stillman painted the present watercolour in 1889, at the height of her career, after having exhibited publicly for over two decades. It was painted in London during one of her most fertile creative periods. The source material from which Stillman draws is the fifth story on the tenth, and last, day of Boccaccio’s Decameron. In the tale a nobleman in Udine, Messer Ansaldo, is desperately in love with Madonna Dianora, the virtuous wife of another man. In order to put off his persistent attentions, Dianora tells him she will give herself to him if he is able to conjure up in the middle of winter ‘a garden full of green grass and flowers and flowering trees, just as if it were May’, but if he was to fail, he must never trouble her again. Ansaldo remains undeterred and employs a necromancer in order to pull off this impossible feat to win her love.

The Enchanted Garden therefore illustrates the climactic moment of Ansaldo’s success. The arches that bracket the composition on both sides reveal the frozen and snow-capped landscape beyond, yet within Ansaldo’s walls the garden is a riot of blooms, blossom and flowering fruit. Dianora and her women are shown, still clad in their heavy winter cloaks, gazing in wonder at the incredible scene laid before them. Jan Marsh writes that Ansaldo even appears ‘somewhat abashed at the success of his deception’ (M.S. Frederick & J. Marsh, Poetry in Beauty: the Pre-Raphaelite art of Marie Spartali Stillman, Delaware, 2015, p. 104). In contrast to her amazed attendants, Dianora appears melancholy with her eyes downcast, horrified that the promise she made has to be fulfilled. The tale, however, has a happy end, as Dianora confesses to her husband and she is eventually released from her contract by Ansaldo, who appears rather chastened by the whole affair.

[stqrnlvs]

"my snow queen" m.s

warnings: SUPER LONG (i used to write on wattpad so im so used to long stories), my attempt at a fluff, slightly suggestive, bad language, n that's pretty much it

summary: matt takes the both of you out for a surprise while on vacation

i stood in the mirror, my warm faux fur coat, light-washed jeans, and uggs keeping my body warm. i quickly turn around to meet matt, my boyfriend, at the door.

"you... look so beautiful baby," he says as he slowly walks closer. i smile at him and look back in the mirror as his arms snake around my waist. he's wearing a collared shirt (that he knows makes me go crazy), medium washed jeans, and air force 1s. he has a striped sweater on, as well as a red cap.

i turn back to look at him and return the compliment. the slightest blush creeps up his cheeks. "i'm so excited to finally be in new york city," i sighed, softly caressing his face. "me too baby, me too," he said in a quiet voice.

i look out of our hotel window, a blue shade cast over the whole city. some buildings had a layer of snow resting on top of them. windows had warm light emitting from them, as well as ours. the yellow shaded lamp covered the both of us. "ready?" he asked, pulling my face close to his to grab my attention. "always," i giggled back. we leaned in and kissed, slow, but passionate.

~

i grabbed my wallet on the way out, but matt seemed to laugh at this action. i don't know why. i pressed the elevator button, and waited for the quiet machine to open on our floor.

we stepped inside, continuing casual conversation as we reached the lobby. the smell of pine instantly reached my nose, making my head turn to the large, glistening christmas tree that stood in the center. we smiled at the receptionists on our way out, and the cold immediately overtook the both of us.

"of fuck," i moaned, my eyes squinting at the hurried wind. matt pulled me closer as we both walked farther away from our hotel.

we spotted a cute cafe on our way to central park. we stepped inside, taking refuge from the cold. warm light flooded us once again, but this time it smelled of chocolate and coffee. light conversations filled the room as we walked towards the counter. we both ordered hot chocolates and sat down as we waited.

we only stared at each other, but i broke under his gaze. "what?" i giggled. he smiled back. "you're so pretty baby, you know that?" he asked me. the remaining cold in my body immediately melted away as the blush crept on my face.

our hot drinks soon arrived, and we left as soon as we paid. the cold met us with its harsh greeting as we continued walking our way to the park. many people wearing scarfs, hats, gloves, and coats like mine were also walking on the sidewalk. smiles were exchanged each time we passed someone.

"baby," matt said while walking, making me turn my head. "yeah?" i replied. "come with me," he said. "right now?" i joked. he playfully rolled his eyes as he dragged my hand in a different direction.

after some carols and small talk with someone from boston, we stood in front of a large store. it's lights were also warm-lit with some festive decorations. "baby, don't even tempt me. you know i spent money on christmas gifts already," i whined, looking at matt who stood smiling at the entrance. "me too, but this is all on me," he said, turning to look at me. i squealed with excitement and dragged him with me into an unknown direction inside.

~

i gathered my loot from the store and wheeled them towards the fitting rooms. i selected extra christmas gifts (sweet but not as expensive to save his bank account), some decorations, and clothes. even after a lot of convincing (from me to matt) that i didn't need half the store, i still had a decent amount of products.

i discarded a lot of clothing, but had at least 4 main pieces of clothing. another coat, boots, 2 t-shirts, and medium slightly-baggy jeans. after putting on the jeans, i came out of the fitting room to see matt holding a dress.

i smiled as i grabbed it, a nice blue shade and soft to the touch. it was stretchy, and accentuated my curves, if not pushed them a little higher. it went with my jewelry that complimented my skin tone, and even made me a little brighter. i ignored my legs, as my uggs definitely did not go with the elegant dress.

i walked out, and was immediately met with an even paler matt who's mouth was open. "y- you look so amazing baby," he said reaching for my hips as the color came back to his face. i laughed as he kissed my neck, his arms tight around my waist. "should we get it?" i asked him as he unburrowed from my neck. "absolutely," he said while nodding, and placing his head back in the crook of my neck. i giggled at this reaction. "you're my snow queen." i blushed at the nickname.

after changing into my original clothes, and even after denying still, matt paying, we left into the coldness again. it was way darker outside, an even darker shade of blue. this made the white christmas lights pop against the dark surroundings.

we finally made it to central park, and admired the tree. "i love you so much baby," i whispered into matts chest as we embraced under the large tree. "i love you too," he breathed, the large shopping bags under our feet.

~

OKAYYYY WHY IS THIS A NEEDDDD

pls like if i should make a pt 2 where he absolutely destroys her in the dress heheheheimightmakeitnomatterwhatbutits2amsogoodnighhhehheheheheeh

[helmetkeeper]

playlist based off sharks :]. i got a new favorite animal guys /half-joke.

songs go like "song" + "artist"

"Jaws" + "Lemon Demon"

"Pizza Heroes" (bonus track) + "Lemon Demon"

"Brodyquest" + "Lemon Demon"

"Jaws" (main theme) + "M.S. Art"

"Stranger" + "Spence Bare"

"Ghost Party" + "Messer Chups"

"Magneto" + "Messer Chups"

"Below the Surface" + "Tatu" and "PeKeÑo ReD"

"In The Room Where You Sleep" + "Dead Man's Bones"

"Sunny" + "Boney M."

"Troubadour" + "Vundabar"

"Paraphernalia" + "Temples"

"Twelfth Street Rag" + "Roy Clark"

"Jetpack Joyride Main Theme" + "Halfbrick"

"Scary Flying Shark" + "Kids TV - Baby Shark Songs" (https://youtu.be/79aIfFdNkuo)

"Numbers (I Can Only Count to Four)" + "Psychostick"

"ミッドナイト・ランデブー" (in english: "Midnight Rendezvous") + "CASIOPEA"

"Down Under" + "Men At Work"

"Tequila" + "The Champs"

"Good Vibrations" (remastered 2001) + "The Beach Boys"

"Nausicaä of the Valley of Wind" (opening theme) + "Joe Hisaishi"

"Stampede of the Ohmu" + "Joe Hisaishi"

"Intergalatic" (remastered 2009) + "Beastie Boys"

"Sports" + "Viagra Boys"

"Cannonball" + "The Breeders"

"Nothing Man" + "Sodikken"

"Sky Mall" + "Vulfpeck" and "Vulf"

"Stickbug" + "Buoyant Records"

"Portal muzsika" + "Portal"

"20221127" + "Mac DeMarco"

"Rambunctious Beet" + "DaDood"

"Snow Elves" + "galen tipton"

"最後の楽園" (in english: "The Last Paradise") + "Haruomi Hosono"

"This Is My Beloved" + "Mort Garson"

"A Devil's Touch in the Midwest" + "Macabre Plaza"

"Silhouette" + "Pastel Ghost"

"lain" + "C4FF31N3"

"GOT UR NUMB3R" (v2) + "bugcried"

"Always Forever" + "Cults"

"Summerlove" (Scorccio Edit) + "S-Connection"

"Palmtree Panic" ('P' mix) + "SEGA SOUND TEAM"

"Gelato Beach" + "Arcade Player"

"Rhinestone Eyes" + "Gorillaz"

dividers by @/mordzine and @/waterinyourears