#mean!matt x popular!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iluvmattsbeard · 9 months ago

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down on my knees (m.s)

master list

nerd!matt x popular!reader

warnings: smut/oral sex (fem receiving)

preview: you assume matt is what he appears to be. a virgin nerd with no experience. when helping you study, you have him down on his knees, pleading to prove to you, he can take you there.

a/n: sorry i watched deadpool and wolverine. this song with the scene had me creaming. listen as you read. OKAY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED. 🤍

everyone knew who you were. when your name is spoken, it's always the same thing said. you basically had a trance on everyone, especially a specific individual. this person would freeze up more than anyone else when you're around. the hold you have on this person is unbearable, even though you've never spoke to each other. the school's biggest nerd and easy target, Matt Sturniolo. it was no shock you haven't spoke to him. you never even blinked an eye at him. you two were in two different worlds, you had no business ever speaking to him and he for sure felt like he had no place to even be near you.

it's not like you choose to not know who he is. he doesn't put himself out there, he has no friends, and he's always just quiet. the only friends he had were his triplet brothers. you knew who Chris was because of his reputation in sports and you knew Nick because he was the talk of the school ever since he came out. like mentioned, Matt was absolutely hooked onto you. when you would enter the classroom, he feels his palms sweat and his eyes are glued onto you like he's seen an angel from heaven.

despite what everyone says about you, how mean, how stuck up, and how careless you can be, in his head, you're more than that. he blocks out all the negativity said about you and in his head, he has some delusion that he could figure you out. he feels deep down, there's more to you than your rough persona.

right now, it was lunch time. Matt is sat with his brothers and their friends. Chris and Nick, despite how different they are from Matt, they've always vowed to never let Matt be alone. they try to include him in everything but, he chooses to sit there in silence. he knew deep down he didn't fit in and it's obvious his brothers' friends also knew that.

he sits there quietly as he pokes at his food. his attention is soon caught, it's like he has a radar, he looks up slightly as you walk past their table. you were with your friends, talking to them as you head over to your table. for Matt, it was all in slow motion as you walked by. he swears he can see your skin glisten and the way your hair bounced, he was in a trance. "dude." he instantly gets brought back to reality when he hears Chris' voice, "you're staring- again." Matt looks back down at his food as he swallows slightly, "was I?" he asks quietly, a bit embarrassed he's been caught. this wasn't the first time though.

"yes. what is your obsession with her? you've never even spoke to her." Chris utters with a bit of food in his mouth. Matt looks at him with a bit of disgust, "can you swallow your food first?" Matt suggests, which makes Chris chuckle and swallow his food. "okay well, what is your obsession with her?" he repeats his question, "you've never talked to her and trust me, she's way out of your league." he adds on, making Matt tense up a bit. it was true, he really didn't belong in your world. it would make no sense, the two of you colliding. "i'd save yourself the heart break." Chris speaks up again.

"how would you know?" Matt mutters, making the brother raise an eyebrow slightly, "how do I know what?" he asks confused. "how do you know she would break my heart? if I haven't even tried?" Matt asks stupidly. he knew the answer already but once again, a little part of him believes he could break down your walls if he just had the confidence. Chris laughs at his question, "no offence but, look at you." he pauses glancing over at me, "now look at her. she would crush you." he finishes as he stuffs his mouth again. there was no point in Matt continuing this conversation. Matt looks over at you and sighs. "heaven help me." he thought to himself.

later that day, Matt walks into his final class, which to his delight, you were in. he makes his way to the back of the class, sitting down in his usual seat. he begins to take out his notebook and textbook as he lets out a quiet breath. you walk in, once again, Matt's eyes land on you and he blocks out everything else. as he watches your every move, he expects you to just walk to your usual seat in the front. he then sees you walk down his aisle, he swears he's just imagining things. you're looking right at him, making his heart stop. eventually, he gets knocked from his trance as you sit in the seat next to him.

"no one sits here right?" you ask Matt, not even looking over at him. he gulps as he begins to speak up, "n-no." he manages to let out. Matt shuts his eyes and turns to face the front. he feels like he sounded like a loser. you sit there silently as you secretly go on your phone while the class starts. Matt can't help but take small glances at you. he felt nervous even though you were just minding your own business. "what is going on?" he thought to himself. why were you suddenly sitting in the back? right next to him? he shakes off the questions as he tries his best to focus on the teacher's voice.

as days go by, Matt notices you continuing to choose to sit in the back, right next to him. it was like a dream but, still no words exchanged between you two but the first day you sat there. where he thought he sounded like an idiot, even though all he said was no to your question. Matt sits there quietly, he notices you dozed off into your arms as the teacher speaks. he can’t help but look at you in admiration. you looked peaceful; sleeping angel like. you flutter your eyes open, catching his gaze as you whisper groggily, "were you just watching me sleep?" you ask sitting up. his eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "what- no- I was just- nervous for you." he lets out panicked. you laugh quietly while you shake your head, "relax, it was just a question." you say surprisingly okay with catching him just now.

Matt feels his heart racing as he lets out an exhale of relief. "did I miss anything important?" you ask looking at him. was this really happening? were you really actually trying to have a conversation with him? "u-uh... not really." he mutters nervously. "okay that's good. i'm like very behind in this class." you say which, it's like the teacher heard you, the teacher speaks up, "Y/n, Matt, I need to talk to you both at the end of the class." Mr. Lionel says. you groan quietly before speaking up, "okay..." Matt's head is racing. why did he have to speak to the both of you? the BOTH of you...

when the final bell rings, you and Matt get up at the same time, heading over to the front of the class. you both stop in front of Mr. Lionel's desk as you let out a sigh, "what's it about?" you ask not enthused at all. he clears his throat, "well, Y/n, i'm sure you're aware that your grade in this class isn't the best." he starts off, "Matt here, can help you bring that grade up if you're willing." you look over at Matt, your eyes trailing down his figure slowly. he gulps as he watches you analyze him, "what is she thinking?" he thought to himself.

you look back at your teacher before nodding and speaking up, "alright." if Matt's heart was racing before, it is now bouncing off the walls. alright? that's all you had to say? no argument?

Mr. Lionel looks over at Matt, "you okay with that Matt?" he asks, snapping him back to reality, "what? uh- y-yeah." Matt responds sheepishly, his cheeks a bit flustered. "great. you two speak to each other and come up with an arrangement that's good for the both of you." the teacher says, making you both nod. he greets you and Matt goodbye, Matt instantly walking out the classroom. he can't believe he was just assigned to tutor you, and YOU agreed. he continues walking down the hall before he hears his name being called.

"Matt!" he turns around quickly before locking eyes on you, heading over to catch up to him. he freezes in his place as he stutters out, "y-yeah?" he feels like his heart can't catch a break. "you want to come over tonight?" you ask so casually. meanwhile, Matt feels like he's about to explode. "w-what?" he asks a bit dazed. "to study." you add on with a small laugh. he blinks repeatedly before having the courage to respond, "yes!" he clears his throat, "yes... I would like that." he says, trying to push down his eagerness. "okay. give me your phone." you say, no question, he instantly pulls out his phone, fumbling a bit before he hands it to you.

you type in your number and send yourself a text so that you can receive his number as well. you hand back his phone before pulling out your own, "alright i'll text you the address. come over at like 5. that's when my parents aren't home." you say making him choke up, "w-what?" Matt asks nervously but you just wave at him and walk away.

as he gets in his car, he sits there still in disbelief. it's like his prayers have been answered. he also doesn't want to get his hopes up though. it's just tutoring, right? he's still confused by why you wanted him there without your parents home. it made his heart race once more. he gets pulled out from his thoughts as Chris and Nick stumble into the mini van. Matt clears his throat as he puts on his seat belt, "can you drive me to the mall later?" Chris asks as he puts on his own seat belt. "can't." Matt says bluntly, his younger brother's eyes widening slightly, "what- why?" he asks caught off guard. "i'm going to tutor someone later." Matt says, sparing the details but, that's all Chris had to know to not question even further. it's no surprise to him that Matt has to tutor someone. Matt was the smartest person he knew.

*time skip*

after spraying some cologne on himself, he walks out his room and out the house. when he's settled into the driver's seat, he pulls out his phone and puts your address into the GPS. he was still replaying your words earlier about how your parents would be out. his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he makes his way to your house.

when he's arrived, he takes the key out of the ignition. he lets out a small sigh, his heart pounding at the fact he's actually about to be with you, alone. he gets out the car and makes his way up your pathway. he rings the doorbell, waiting anxiously as he looks around. nice house he thought to himself. after a bit, you open the door. Matt's eyes immediately running down your figure. you were in a matching pajama set. his heart stops, he was now feeling self conscious at the fact he's wearing a button up shirt. "hey, come in." you say as you open the door more for him to walk in. he steps inside nervously as he looks around. "come, my room is upstairs." you speak, already heading up the stairs. he follows closely behind you.

*time skip*

you both have been sat on your bed as you lay on your stomach, flipping through the text book. "s-so... do you understand it?" Matt asks, hoping he's done a good job at explaining the subject. you look at him with a blank expression, "no." you let out bluntly, a small laugh following afterwards. "o-oh well- I can explain it again-." he gets cut off by you, "no it's fine. this is hopeless." you sigh softly, closing your text book. "my brain hurts." you add on. Matt sits there, tensing up a bit as he clears his throat, "oh- w-well... maybe some other time." he says closing his text book. you two have been going over the subject for like a hour.

"you're leaving?" you ask curiously. Matt looks at you as he stuffs his textbook into his bag, "um... well I was assuming you were done..." he admits quietly. "oh I just thought we were taking a break." you chuckle, "but alright." he straightens up as he quickly chimes in, "oh that works too." not wanting to leave just yet. you sit up, now legs crossed as you look at him, "so... why did you want me over while your parents are gone?" he asks, gulping a bit. "no distractions." you respond casually. he was amazed by how easily you can speak. he feels like he has a lump in his throat. "do you always wear those button up shirts to tutor?" you ask tilting your head a bit. "uh... no- but- I just wanted to wear something nice." he stutters out nervously. did you think it was bad? your eyes trail over his shirt, "it's nice. suits you." you compliment. he didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. "dressing up for me or something?" you ask. "u-uh well- kind of- yes..." he sighs in defeat.

"that's sweet." you say with no emotion in your voice. "did you think this was going to go somewhere?" you ask bluntly. his eyes widen a bit, "what? what's that supposed to mean?" he asks a bit startled. "like were you expecting something out of this?" you ask, "like a handy or a blowjob or what?" the question makes his eyes widen even more, "what? of course not!" he responds panicked, "t-that's not- I- I wasn't even thinking that." he says flustered. you chuckle softly, "i'm just messing with you." you say before going on your phone, "you don't even seem like the type." you conclude. he's caught off guard, "w-what's that supposed to mean?" he asks. you look up from your phone and meet his gaze, "you don't seem like the type to do that stuff. I mean-" you pause putting your phone down, "do you even have experience?" you ask. "well... not exactly..." he admits embarrassed by the confession.

"see? I knew it." you let out a small humorous scoff. "I-I guess I just haven't had the time..." he says, trying to seem like he's too busy to gain experience, and not because he's a total loser. you raise an eyebrow slightly, "oh so it's not by choice?" you ask, not really believing it as you stand up and put your textbook back into your bag. he stays quiet for a bit before speaking up, "yeah no... just too busy for it..." he says quietly. you let out a small snark with a small grin, "yeah okay." you respond still not buying it. Matt has this sudden urge to fight back, he also knew you weren't buying it so he makes a move he never expected to make, "I mean I have the time now." he utters, making him widen his eyes a bit. you look up at him as you tilt your head slightly, "oh so you did come here expecting something." you say, crossing your arms. "no! no... but- forget it." he mumbles embarrassed as he picks up his bag.

you sit at the edge of the bed as you speak up, "no. go ahead. since you have time." you say, not having very high expectations. he freezes in his spot as he looks at you, "w-what?" he asks with his heart pounding. "you heard me." you say, propping your arms back behind you slightly. he puts his bag down slowly as he steps in front of you. he looks down at you as you tilt your head a bit. you blink up at him, waiting for his move, not amused. Matt then slowly gets on his knees, your eyes follow him, now looking down at him. he places his hands nervously on the waistband of your pajama shorts. he looks up at you and back down at his hands as he begins to slide your shorts down slowly, revealing your white lace panties. his breath hitches in his throat as he continues to pull them down your silky legs, now leaving you in just your panties. he takes a moment to admire you in front of him as he begins to kiss your inner thighs slowly and softly, making you roll your eyes a bit at how slow he's being. he then trails those kisses up, placing a soft kiss on your clothed cunt, your eyes watching him closely. he then kisses up your stomach, his face now stopped in front of your face.

he swallows before placing his lips onto yours, everything was slow and you kiss him back. after a bit, you pull away, "okay um. I don't think this is going to work." you say about to sit up completely but he stops you. he gets back onto his knees, now yanking your panties down. you gasp slightly by the sudden action as he takes in the sight of you bare. he grips under your thighs as he pulls you closer to his face. your heart begins to race by his sudden anticipation and change of demeanor. his mouth was so close to your core, you can feel his breath against it. Matt gulps as he glances up at you, then looking back down at your folds. "heaven help me." he thinks to himself before diving his tongue into you. at first, you weren't feeling it, you sort of felt bad for his lack of experience but then, he begins to suck on your clit, making you sit up and look down at him. your mouth slowly falling open, surprised by his action. he continues to suck on your clit, you feel yourself getting wet as he works his mouth. your breath began to hitch as he ran his tongue up your now slick folds.

he flattens out his tongue, continuing his upward motion. you gasp softly, quickly biting your lip. you didn't expect to be enjoying this. he darts his tongue in and out of your entrance, making you moan out a bit louder than you expected. he looks up at you as he melts against your wet folds. he watches as you crumble above him. he swirls his tongue around your clit, making you throw your head back at the sensation, "M-Matt." you moan out. the sound of his name rolling of your tongue made him go insane. the way you moan, it was like an angelic sound in his ears. he moves his tongue against your clit, side to side as you gasp, gripping his hair with your eyes shut. he begins to suck on your slit again as he unexpectedly pushes a finger into you. "f-fuck!" you moan out as he pumps his finger, while still sucking on your clit. his eyes still on you, he knows he's doing this right.

you buck your hips up slightly, starting to feel your legs shake a bit, you have never experienced pleasure like this before. Matt pulls his finger out of you as he grips your thighs, holding them in place roughly. you let out a small whimper. the feeling of his tongue was sort of overpowering. he groans against your folds, sending vibrations through out your body. his hands grip your thighs harder as he dives his mouth in deeper. he was completely in the moment, the taste of your juices on his tongue, making him want more and more. he continues darting his tongue into you, wet noises filling the room. "you're so wet." he mumbles against you, lapping his tongue up your folds. you grip his hair a bit harder as you continue to moan. you couldn't believe the school's biggest nerd is in between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

he then flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit as he looks up at you. you gasp once again, eyes darting down at him, "how was he so good at this?" you thought to yourself. he then pushes two fingers this time into you, catching you off guard. he pumps his slender fingers in and out at a quick motion as he swirls his tongue sloppily. you arch your back as you grip the sheets above you, "fuck Matt!" you moan loudly, making him ache in between your legs. this only drives him to go faster, pumping his fingers into you even faster as he sucks on your clit. the combination combines make your stomach swirl, "Matt i'm gonna-." you let out shakily as you arch your back even more, your eyes clenched shut, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as you experience the best orgasm you've ever had. you release all over his mouth as he keeps his mouth on you.

your legs shake as he continues to eat you out, despite you already releasing. he grips your thighs hard as he watches you shake uncontrollably under his touch. you swear you could now see stars as he groans against you once more. you push his head away as you look down at him in shock.

he licks his lips and his cheeks are flustered. you stare at him in disbelief as you try to catch up with your breathing. his eyes dart back down to your messy wet core as he looks back up at you, “h-how was that?” he asks shyly. “how could he act so shy after that?” you thought to yourself. he’s still on his knees as he waits for your response. it irritated you slightly at how much you enjoyed it, especially because you were so confident he would be terrible at it. when you finally calm down your breathing, you sit up and look down at him.

“what do you think?” you ask in disbelief. he feels his face heat up as he scratches the back of his neck, “uh…” he chuckles breathlessly, “good?” he questions. you push his glasses back up slowly as they were resting at the tip of his nose, “let’s just say, you are not what you seem.” you let out still in shock.

a/n: nerd matt has my heart.

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sturnsblogs · 14 days ago

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THE NEW BOY IN CLASS

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

—

You and Matt don’t really talk like that anymore.

Not like before.

You’ve been cool—cordial, even. You still pass each other in the hall sometimes. You still catch each other’s eyes when you’re both too tired to pretend you don’t notice. But whatever you were? That complicated little almost-relationship, situationship, whatever—it’s been over. Or at least, it feels like it is.

Now, you sit alone in English class.

You didn’t mind it, honestly. It gave you time to think, to space out, to keep to yourself. It’s quiet in a way the rest of your life isn’t.

Until today.

The teacher cleared her throat at the front of the room. “Class,” she said, folding her hands together, “we have a new student joining us today.”

You didn’t think much of it. Kept your eyes on the page of your notebook, doodling in the corner until a pair of footsteps drew your attention. You glanced up.

A boy walked in.

He was tall, wavy blonde hair that curled around his ears, piercing blue eyes that practically glowed under the classroom lights. He had a soft smile on his lips, the kind that wasn’t cocky—just kind. And he was looking directly at you.

You blinked.

He smiled a little more when your eyes met. Like he noticed you before anything else in the room. Like the rest of the class didn’t exist.

And to your surprise… you smiled back.

Across the room, Matt sat near the window. He hadn’t been paying attention until your smile happened. Until he followed your gaze and saw the way your body shifted slightly in your seat, just a little straighter, a little more aware. When he realized who you were smiling at, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch.

The teacher beamed, oblivious. “This is Noah,” she said. “Be polite, please.”

Noah gave a polite nod to the class but his eyes didn’t leave you. He didn’t even try to hide it. You weren’t sure why, but it didn’t feel creepy—it felt curious. He seemed soft, gentle, almost calm in a way that was unfamiliar to you. He was cute. Really cute. And he hadn’t looked away once.

The teacher scanned the room, then pointed. “Umm… you can sit next to Y/N.”

Your heart skipped.

Matt’s brows furrowed. His grip on his pen tightened.

Noah made his way to your table, sliding into the seat beside you. You tried to act normal, like your palms weren’t suddenly clammy.

“Hi,” he said, voice smooth and warm. “I’m Noah.”

You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I heard. I’m Y/N.”

He chuckled softly. “Nice to meet you.”

From across the room, Matt didn’t say a word. But his eyes were locked on the side of Noah’s face like he was imagining every possible reason to make him disappear.

Noah pulled his chair a little closer to the desk, angling his body slightly toward you like he was already comfortable sitting beside you. His eyes flicked over your face, not in a weird way—more like he was trying to figure you out.

“You’re really pretty,” he said casually, like it was just a fact.

Your breath caught a little in your throat.

You turned your head toward him, trying not to blush. “What?”

He smiled, eyes crinkling. “I said you’re pretty. I figured someone had already told you today, but just in case.”

You laughed quietly under your breath. “That’s bold for your first day.”

“I’m new. Gotta make an impression, right?” he grinned. “Besides, I say what I mean.”

You looked down for a second, biting your lip. “Well… thank you.”

Matt could hear everything. Every word. Every soft laugh that came out of your mouth. And it was killing him.

From across the room, he stared down at his paper, pretending to write while his pen hovered over the same question he hadn’t answered for the past five minutes. His jaw was tight, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. He didn’t even realize he was gripping his pen so hard until it snapped in half in his hand.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Nick, who sat beside him, glanced over. “Dude… what?”

Matt didn’t answer. He just kept glancing up—watching the way you leaned in when Noah spoke, the way you smiled at something he said, the way Noah looked at you like you were the most interesting person in the room.

It made his chest ache. Or burn. Or both.

Meanwhile, you were focused on Noah, genuinely enjoying the attention—gentle, respectful, and different. He asked about your favorite artists, where you grew up, if you liked the class. And he listened, like really listened. His smile never faded.

“You’ve got this calm thing about you,” he said at one point. “But I feel like there’s more underneath. Like you’re hiding something.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s deep for second period English.”

He laughed, soft and low. “Sorry. I’m just good at reading people.”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head and smiled again.

Across the room, Matt’s pencil had snapped next.

The bell rang, and the hallway flooded with voices and movement, lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking against tile.

Matt stormed out of the classroom, hoodie up, backpack half-zipped, his face tense. Chris jogged up beside him, brows already furrowed, sensing the storm brewing off his brother.

“You good?” Chris asked, trying to keep it casual but already bracing himself.

Matt shook his head with a humorless laugh. “Nah. Whatever.”

Chris tilted his head. “Wanna try that again but with real words?”

Matt gritted his teeth. “She was flirting with him.”

Chris blinked. “Who—Noah?”

“Yeah. Noah. Fucking new guy walks in for five seconds, gives her a smile and suddenly she’s blushing and giggling like he invented the sun.”

Chris tried to hold back a smirk but failed. “Well, he is pretty.”

Matt snapped his head toward Chris. “Chris.”

“I’m just saying!” Chris laughed, hands up in defense. “You’re not even dating her, Matt. What did you expect her to do? Sit around hoping you look her way between ignoring her?”

Matt clenched his jaw. “It’s not like that.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s exactly like that.”

They turned a corner and slowed as the crowd thinned a little. Chris lowered his voice, more serious now.

“You switch up even in front of me and Nick, man. And we’re your brothers.”

Matt’s head snapped toward him.

“I don’t—”

“You do,” Chris cut in. “When she’s not around? You’re all about her. You talk about how pretty she is. How good she smells. How she laughs at your stupid jokes. You literally confessed to us you’re falling for her.”

Matt looked away, jaw clenching.

“And then,” Chris went on, “the second your friends are around, it’s like you don’t even know her. Like she’s some girl who got stuck hanging out with you. That shit hurts, bro. Imagine how she feels.”

Matt was silent. The only sound between them was the shuffle of their shoes on the tile floor.

Chris sighed, voice softer. “You keep acting like she’s the one playing games. But she’s not. You are.”

Matt didn’t answer, his hands buried deeper in his hoodie pocket. He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight, chest heavy with all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.

Chris nudged him with his shoulder. “You’re an idiot, dude. But if you don’t fix this, you’re gonna lose her for real.”

Matt didn’t respond, but the sting in his chest said he heard every word.

—

A/N- what do we think of noah?

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn @ivysturnss @ilovemenwithlonghairr @whore4-chrissturniolo

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sturnlsstuff · 5 months ago

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FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter two

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter one | chapter three

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, bratty reader, cursing, blood, knife play, mentions of murder - english isn't my first language.

~~~

chris had a million reasons to hate you. starting from the first day you met him and his brothers, and you accidentally spilled his last pepsi. it was a small thing, didn't mean much, but it was enough for chris to know that you would cause him problems. and he was right.

he didn't like many people, he had problems with trusting them and only his close friends knew what he really was like. besides he didn't really need anyone. still, he was popular and everyone loved him, including the girls on campus. you'd always heard them bragging that they were chris's chosen ones for one night. if not them, then someone else they knew. there were only a few girls he didn't touch and you were one of them.

though chris was tolerating your friend emma, she was really kind and respectful, always minding her own business. besides, she made matt happy, what was enough for chris.

you, on the other hand, were her complete opposite. you argue, always say what you think no matter how mean it is, you don't keep it to yourself. it was like riding without brakes, and he really didn't want to be on this ride with you when the car crashes, so he always tried to stay away. even when you started to have a better relationship with his brothers, and started constantly showing up at their house, going shopping with nick or playing hogwarts legacy with matt. even in college, he'd find you randomly in nick's room or in the frat house on the couch with matt and emma. you were everywhere.

and he was always watching you, noticing the way your nose wrinkled cutely when you laughed at something nick would say. or that look you gave him when he said something you didn't like, immediately taking a deep breath, and that's when chris always knew he was screwed. once you start talking, you never shut up.

he knew that for someone who didn't like you so much, the fact that he knew a lot about you was quite...interesting. knowing what he knows, what type of person you were, he couldn't understand why you were with someone as jealous, obsessive and toxic as your ex boyfriend. before this relationship he would never call you stupid, maybe irritating, but smart in some way. however after seeing you with jake, he thought there must be something wrong with you, which made him dislike you even more. how could you not respect yourself like that? this made him believe you have to be dumb.

against his own logic, he was just a guy who liked pretty girls and unfortunately for him, you were one of them. he would never make any move towards you, god, no. but he had eyes and you were indeed attractive. sometimes he wondered what it would be like to feel your body under his or what you would look like sitting on top of him.

he never expected to experience both of these things in a situation like this.

"chris?!" he hears your voice, shock written all over your face.

you are straddling him, blood flowing down your hand where you were clutching his ghostface mask. the thing he has been hiding under for a while now. the last thing he would have expected was that not only would he finally satisfy his deeply hidden fantasy about feeling your body against his in some way, but that you would also find out about his most hidden secret.

he was fucked.

panic overpowers all of his other senses as he looks at you. chris was always able to control everything, but not this. his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest at any moment. what's worse, despite this awful situation he found himself in, he felt his body reacting to your closeness, something that even he didn't expect, which brings him back to reality.

"get the fuck off me," he mutters, clearing his throat and almost making you fall when he starts getting up. you quickly compose yourself and stands up as well, taking a few steps back and holding his intense gaze.

you were unable to utter a word while he looked at your hand and then at his knife. that made him feel sick, cursing under his breath and wiping the knife on his robe before looking back at you.

"you're bleeding, y'know..." chris says, causing you to scoff. "no shit, sherlock," despite your shock and fear, you roll your eyes not wanting to give him the satisfaction of scaring you.

you look at your arm, touching the blood that was still oozing out. the wound wasn't large or deep, but enough to make you bleed.

"you cut my fucking arm."

"by accident," he mutters, then frowns. "you kicked me in the balls."

"by accident," you mock him sarcastically.

he shakes his head in disbelief at how, despite this situation and your obvious confusion, you still decided to talk back to him.

"what the fuck is this?!" you finally snap at him, pointing at his outfit and the mask in your hand, "you're dressing up as a ghostface and kill people like that? are you insane?!"

chris licks his lips slowly as he tries to control his own emotions and stay calm. he doesn't reply, what only causes the annoyance grow inside you, "i was aware you're fucked in the head, but killing people, chris?! and what, you came here to move me out of your way too?!" you-"

"jesus, shut the fuck up for once, can ya?! you don't know shit," he runs his hand through his hair, then getting annoyed at his gloves so he takes them off, throwing them on the floor. and he does the same with the rob he was wearing, now staying only in a black tank top and black pants. everything suddenly overwhelmed him.

"oh, i'm sorry, then maybe explain?" the evident sarcasm in your tone makes him take a deep breath. your eyes travel down his body before moving up to his frustrated face again. he sighs, taking a step closer and snatching his mask from your hand, putting it on the desk.

"first of all," he starts a bit calmer now, "as i said, i fuckin' hurt you by accident, so this gotta be taken care of..."

you scoff, "yeah, 'cause my arm is the most important thing here. besides don't act like you care, when you're here trying to kill me—"

"i'm not tryin' to kill you, for god's sake!" he snaps back at you again, moving around your room as if this could help him think.

this situation was terrible for him. out of all the people, you had to be the one to find out what he was secretly doing, which was putting him in some real danger. he believed you won't keep your mouth shut and he's gonna get probably arrested tomorrow morning, if he's lucky enough for you to give him one last night to sort things out. unless... he saves himself by sacrificing you, but that thought doesn't even sit right with him.

"oh, really? should i be thankful?" you roll your eyes.

"yes actually," the sarcasm in his voice only makes your anger grow, but you let him speak. "i don't wanna kill you. stop being an idiot."

"you're an idiot," you say offended, crossing your arms over your chest, causing a few drops of blood to fall on your shirt, chris's attention immediately caught.

with a roll of his eyes, he leaves your room confusing you, so you're fast to follow him. he had been to your apartment several times with his brothers on different occasions, so he knew how it was arranged. he quickly finds himself in the bathroom, starting to look for the first aid kit, while you stand in the doorway with a frown.

"what are you doing?"

"told ya, that cut needs to be taken care of," he mutters finally finding what he wanted, and turning around to face you. "sit your ass down."

but you just scoff, not moving. in a few steps, he's in front of you, trying to uncross your arms, but you almost jump away from him as if his touch burned your skin.

"so fuckin' stubborn," he sighs, holding out his hand so you could grab the first aid kit. "do it yourself," surprisingly for chris, you comply and take it from him, walking into the bathroom and starting to clean up your wound.

the bathroom remains silent for a moment, until you speak up again, "if you're not gonna add me to your list of people you've killed, then why are you here?"

"i don' have a list," he frowns, now leaning against the bathroom counter with his arms crossed, watching as you clean up the blood on your arm. "m'here 'cause i left you a gift."

the death stare that you give him in the mirror makes him stop with the jokes. he just didn't know how to cope with this situation, he was never good at dealing with things seriously.

he clears his throat, while you bandage your arm, "i was just supposed to give you the phone and leave unnoticed once you shower or somethin', but you pissed me off with your tough girl talk. so i had to make an appearance."

you turn around to face him and lean back against the sink, mirroring his position. "and why did you give me that phone?"

"i told ya already, didn't i?" he raises his eyebrow, "so you could delete this fuckass video your stupid ex recorded. and there was also some... extra."

"some extra... you mean that video with an apology?"

chris responds with a nod at your question. there were so many questions swirling around in your head, that you didn't even know where to start. you also knew that you had to choose your words carefully, so as not to scare him but to find out as much as possible.

"why don't you wanna kill me?"

"you suicidal or some shit?" he can't resist making another joke, but the look you're giving him makes him add, "do i have a reason?"

"do you have to?"

"yes," he says simply, not intending to make your little 'investigation' any easier. he was curious what other questions you'd ask him.

"i never gave you a reason?" you ask skeptically, making chris smirk.

"oh, you did. multiple times," he replies bluntly, giving you goosebumps at the thought. "i don't touch women like that."

"like that?"

"y'know i usually make them scream with pleasure, not fear."

you stare at him, blinking slowly before grimacing with disgust, making his grin widen. "oh my god, ew," you shake your head, pushing yourself off the sink and going back to your room, followed by chris. "remind me, why do i even have this conversation with you?"

"'cause you're a curious little fuck," he replies, watching as you walk towards your desk and grab his ghostface mask with curiosity written all over your face.

"so you don't kill women?"

"no."

"why not?"

"i answered that already."

"i'm asking seriously."

"and i responded seriously as well," he leans against your desk beside you, taking the mask from your hands, catching your attention back at him. "men are dickheads, so i'm only makin' them suffer."

"oh, and you know this from your own example?"

chris has to take a deep breath to keep from wiping that stupid smirk off your face. "yeah, i'm a dick, a'ight," he replies with an overly nice tone, before rolling his eyes. "but there are worse people than me."

you just eye him up and down, the skepticism visible in your expression again, while you take a few steps back from him, not liking how close you two were for a moment.

"wow, a killer with manners, who would've thought," you mutter under your nose. you could have sworn the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, but he quickly hid it.

it's not like you thought he's the worst ever, but he definitely was one of the people you wouldn't want to be close to. you remember how when you first met him and his brothers, you tried to have a normal conversation with chris or get to know him better somehow, but he didn't give you that chance. he was nonchalant, selfish and unfortunately extremely handsome, which was making his ego bigger than his brain.

so with all of these reasons and the back and forth you two have going on, it was really easy for him to become the most annoying person in your eyes.

"so why did you kill jake?"

chris thought you won't finally ask that question you had on the tip of your tongue all this time, so he was happy to answer, "he was one of the dickheads."

"maybe give me more details, you idiot."

"y'don't need more," chris rolls his eyes. "we both know he was an asshole."

despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him, but one thing was still bothering you. chris helped you with jake and his friend at the party last night and now your ex was dead. so this made you think...

"did you do this for me?" you ask, but he just raises an eyebrow, scanning your face for a moment. the smirk on his face doesn't match the boredom you hear in his voice when he finally speaks up, "why would i? not everythin' is 'bout you, princess."

his words stir conflicting emotions within you, and for a moment the room remains silent with a strange, awkward tension.

"enough with the questions," chris says clearly fed up with your curiosity. "he deserved it, that's all."

"you think he deserved to die?"

this one sentence makes something in chris switch, and you see his bored expression turn into annoyance really fast, but not the one he always gave you when you two had the back and forth, but the one that told you that you really, really pissed him off.

he's quick to get closer, backing you up against the wall and getting you trapped between it and him. for some reason your heart starts racing, but you weren't scared at all.

"you ain't gonna be the one to call me out on shit, actin' like you give a fuck 'bout this idiot' death." he hisses through gritted teeth, "you didn't even cry. i see no sadness in your goddamn eyes, so stop pretendin' like i just didn't do you a big fuckin' favor by killin' that douchebag."

the feeling of being exposed like that arises within you, "you don't know how i feel—"

"oh please," he scoffs. "you aren't even mad that i killed him. you wouldn't be doing this whole chitchat thing with me if you were."

seeing that you want to speak again, he doesn't let you and adds, "i've seen you mad, multiple times. i've been makin' you mad constantly. so believe me when i say this little pretty expression of your annoyed face isn't what i see right now."

pretty expression? chris almost frowns at his choice of words, but you don't look like you caught it, which makes him slightly relax.

or maybe you're just good at hiding things.

the feeling that you have to deny it, that you can't give him this satisfaction grows inside you, but you are unable to say anything, realizing that chris is right.

you didn't care about your ex's death. maybe you were that heartless bitch everyone thought you were, but they weren't the ones dealing with jake and his toxicity for almost two years, day after day. they didn't have to hear the disgusting comments, this possessive jealousy. they didn't have to ask their boyfriend for hours for a permission to go out for a drink with your bestfriend, and when he finally agreed, getting a text every ten minutes accusing you of cheating on him and ruining your evening. they didn't have to experience the feeling after finding out that he was fucking a new girl behind your back, then begging for forgiveness just to do it again after a while. you were the one who experienced this and how you feel now is solely your business. no one else's. you didn't even admit to emma that you don't care about jake's death.

but chris knew.

"fuck you," you finally say without breaking eye contact. he lets out a low, mocking laugh, and points his finger at you, sticking it into your shoulder.

"you're not better than me, so stop pretendin' to be." his gaze is so intense that you almost feel small. this has never happened before and it makes you feel something...strange. "n'believe me, better for ya if you keep your mouth shut."

"or what? you gonna kill me?" you scoff, making him almost lose his mind.

"this is just a good advice."

you roll your eyes, still holding your ground, "wow so nice of you, really."

he looks at you, breathing heavily, and only then you both realize how close you are. he's pinning you against the wall, your faces are millimeters apart, both of you unaware that your hearts have just sped up at the same moment.

"i ain't jokin', princess," his voice barely above a whisper, but still intense with a mix of anger and... something you weren't able to name. "if you even try to say anythin', you're fucked."

"now you're threatening me, huh?"

despite your strong personality and the fact that you still acted all tough, you had to admit that at that moment you realized that you got yourself into a really bad situation. not only did you find out something you shouldn't have, but assuming of his reactions, chris hated you even more now.

"told ya already," he tilts his head to the side, and for a split second you could've swear his eyes dropped to your lips before moving back up. "it's just advice. from a good heart."

he waves the ghostface mask in front of your face and adds, "this? this ain't your business at all. you know what you know now, but you won't do shit 'bout it. y'know why?" he remains silent for a moment.

"'cause ya care 'bout your little friend. emma, right? and emma's with matt," he moves closer, whispering in your ear, a strange shiver runs through your body. "and matt knows 'bout everythin', sometimes even helps when shit gets bad. if you'll try snitch on me, you'll do the same to him, not only losing him as a friend, but also breakin' emma's heart." he pulls back to look at your shocked expression, the smirk back on his face, "would be a shame, don'cha think?"

you freeze, staring at him blankly and trying to process everything he just told you. his stupid smirk only made you feel more uneasy, but it was just a facade, there was still that irritation in his eyes.

chris was really desperate to make you to keep quiet. he didn't wanna do anything to you, but you were really dangerous for him now, especially with the hate you feel towards him.

"you're lying," you finally choked out, making him amused.

"oh, am i? or you jus' tryna make yourself feel better?"

"you're telling me matt knows?" the room is quiet for a moment as you two hold the eye contact, then chris responds with a nod.

"he found out himself. nick doesn't know," he anticipates your upcoming question. "and that's how it supposed to be. no one can know shit. you get me?"

you didn't know what to do but you nodded anyway, which surprised him that you complied so quickly. not that he's complaining, but you always put in more of the fight first. he scans your face, you could feel his breath on your cheek, that's how close you two still were.

"y'scared of me or some shit?" you frown at his stupid question and quickly say, "no."

but it was too quick.

"no?" he repeats mockingly, raising his eyebrow. "no," you say again, trying to sound convincing, but he just grins, throwing his mask away and taking the knife out of his pocket. you had no clue when would he even put it there, but that makes you gulp loud.

"good..." he clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "s'good, y'know... means that you won't be scared if i do this..."

the moment he brushes your hair away from your face with his knife is causing your body to shiver again. you stand there, still trapped between chris and the wall, looking at him with wide eyes while he looks like he's having the time of his life.

"...or this..." he mutters, now brushing the hair off your shoulder, exposing your neck, and using the non-sharp side of the knife to run it down your skin to your collarbone.

the way your body started reacting to chris and his movements was completely unexpected for you. yes, you were practically frozen, but not from fear of him. it was because of what you felt at that moment. it was as if all your senses came back and helped you realize that your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your slickery folds.

he made you wet.

you were fucking turned on by all this talk, his closeness, the way he was pissed off at you and now touching you with his knife.

you prayed that he was unaware of what was happening to you. however, chris had his experience with women and the way you stay silent while he literally has his knife on you, definitely made him think. with your attitude, you would've pushed him away already and started yelling at him. but you were just letting him do it.

he wet his bottom lip with his tongue, looking down your body and back up. unfortunately for you, he noticed how your thighs were pressed together. his mind spinned.

"you, uh..." he tilts his head to the side, watching you closely. "this shit like... turns you on or somethin'?"

"what?" you choked out, the panic in your voice is telling him enough.

"oh, shit," chris laughed in disbelief with a raised eyebrow. "y'really are fuckin' crazy, huh?" his knife travels down between your breasts to your stomach. "what exactly is it, hm? the knife? the ghostface mask? me?"

you swallow and the moment his knife stops above the waistband of your sweatpants, you grab his wrist. "what?" he asks, "don't want me to find somethin'? it'd be fair like this, y'know... you know my secret, i'll know yours..."

his eyes flicker between your lips and eyes and it doesn't go unnoticed by you again. chris himself wasn't really sure what he was doing. the thought of you being affected by him like this was almost... unreal. he was intrigued. curious.

"bet you're soaked..." you cut him off, the desperation clear in your voice, "shut up."

"oh, she speaks," he says sarcastically, looking down at how tight your grip was on his wrist, your knuckles almost white, he smirked wider. "you might need a little help down there. don't ya think?"

"what?"

"you heard me," after these words, the silence between you grows with unexpected tension. the effect he had on you made you shiver, something that may have always been in the back of your mind but you never let come to light.

however, this time your control was weak and slipped away completely as your grip on his wrist loosened and you pulled away your hand, giving chris the answer he needed. you saw that he hesitated, but finally moved closer and pressed his lips into yours.

it took you a few seconds to even understand what was happening. then with a little nervousness you kissed him back. the feeling of you giving in to him made the slow, hesitant kiss suddenly more intense, his tongue running over your lower lip, as you felt his hand on the back of your neck.

kissing him was so much better than you could've imagined. not that you did...maybe a few times... maybe. probably by accident. yeah.

his lips were strangely soft for someone who was such a dick. you can hear the faint sound of the knife falling to the ground, then a moment later feel his hand on your hip, your fingers tangling into his hair. such nice hair.

he was completely lost in how good it felt, each second deepening the kiss, your tongues dancing together. then you feel his hardness against your thigh and despite your own need, it reminds you that it's chris you're kissing. the same chris who is always annoying you, is a nonchalant asshole and is someone you hate.

so you break the kiss, your hands slide down to his chest and gently push him away.

chris takes a step back, looking at you through half lidded eyes. both of you panting, the eye contact full of lust makes you immediately regretting what just happened.

"we shouldn't..." you mutter, the annoyance flickers in his expression for a moment at your words, but he hides it. "could've think of that before you kissed me back," at his answer, your cheeks creep up with heat.

he's never in his life seen you blush before. he hates himself for thinking you looked... cute.

"why the hell would you even do that?" your confusion makes him scoff and now he pulls away completely. "i can ask you the same thing," chris wasn't gonna let you blame this on him only.

you say stubbornly, "you did it first."

"doesn't matter," he mutters annoyed. "you kissed me back. y'want my reason? then tell me yours."

you seem almost offended by his words. he wanted a reason? you couldn't give him any, at that moment you couldn't think about anything other than the ache between your legs and his closeness. and you couldn't admit that kissing him and more, was something you thought about sometimes when you were lying alone in your room in the middle of the night.

"there's no reason," you mutter finally, getting another scoff in response.

"of course," he rolls his eyes. "s'whatever anyway. not like it was supposed to mean shit."

that kiss definitely didn't mean anything, you didn't even care. you both got carried away and did something you shouldn't have done.

but the fact was, that you both did like the kiss, and you were both turned on at that moment. he was angry with himself for even thinking about doing something about it, for you both to—

you, on the other hand, got scared how real it was getting when you felt his boner against your thigh. it freaked you out, that he was the one to made you wet, and that you wanted him to help you out.

chris could see it on your face now, the annoyance at yourself that he was turning you on, which made him pissed off for some reason.

"yeah, just moment of weakness," you cross your arms across your chest, looking away, almost trying to escape the intensity of his blue eyes.

he stares at you for a moment, clenching his jaw, "definitely. s'not like i want you anyway."

your gaze immediately comes back to him, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you while he grabs his stuff, shoving the knife into his pocket. "yeah, your pants tight?"

he huffs at your blunt sarcasm, "your panties wet?"

the look you give each other is so sharp you're sure it would cut through the air if it could.

"fuck you," you say. chris grins at that, though it doesn't reach his eyes, "bet you wanna."

you had to clench your hands into fists to hold yourself back from grabbing something and throwing at him, "really i do not."

"right," he nods, walking towards the door. looking over his shoulder, he shows up the ghostface mask, "one word 'bout it and s'gonna be bad for ya."

"just fucking go already."

and he does. not even a minute later you hear the front door slamming shut. you're fast to leave your bedroom and go lock them, making sure he actually left.

you stand there for a moment, resting your back against the cool wood, running your finger across your lips. then you grimace at the discomfort you felt between your legs, desperate for friction.

"what the actual fuck?"

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transboyswitchytales · 6 days ago

Text

Pretty Girl I'll Make You Famous

Maya Mason x Artist Reader

part 1

You are Maya Mason's wife and the head artist of Continental Studio's Animation division. You both haven't told the team that you are married. But the key to Maya's lock hangs around your neck..and that might just be a give away.

My Masterlist of Works

Mommy Kink!/G!PMaya/Impregnation kink/Video Game Discussions

You’d been in this industry for a while now. And you knew how these meetings usually went. But as of April, you’d been promoted. You were now the head artist of Animation for Continental Studios. So far, you have been greenlit for working on a new franchise. They wanted to make a popular video game series into an animated show. So you were sitting on a Tuesday afternoon with your best storyboard artist, Jennifer Kale. And the usual bigwigs: Matt, Sal, Quinn, Patty, and Maya. Of course.

Plus Alice, you’d figured taking Alice Wu-Gulliver would be a good idea. Knowing she could talk shop and not get her feelings hurt in the harsh crowd. While Jen would remain silent and take notes, Alice would politely defuse the conversation. Jennifer definitely could stir the drama, which is why you’d instructed her to be as quiet as she could stand. Which you knew was a losing game.

Alice and you had spent some time with the storyboard team and made some concept sketches. A few mock posters for God of War, Red Dead, Halo, and Resident Evil. They were currently propped up, and your, Jen, and Alice drawings were spread across the conference table.

What should have taken two hours was now going on six because none of them could agree on a fucking thing. You desperately wanted a new iced coffee, but you sat next to Alice as the guys paced. Patty was groaning with her feet on the table. Maya was across from you, but she wasn’t looking at the mockup drawings. She was looking at you, and you both knew why.

Alice was talking to Matt and Sal while you and Maya had a silent debate wordlessly across the table.

“So you like the God of War idea? Is it the idea of making it into more of an anime style that you don’t like?” Alice asked honestly, it was a good question. Seeing as how they’d been going around and around like school children for hours.

“I like the anime idea,” Matt says, but then he looks down at a drawing and winces.

“You keep making that face, what is it?” Quinn asks, and you are thankful for the woman.

“Is it too hentai?” Matt questions.

“What is hentai?” Patty says, groaning and pulling her hair in frustration.

“Oh god.” Maya rolled her eyes, not wanting to explain it. She always knew what was in.

“Porn.” You say through gritted teeth, surprising Sal in that moment. You’d kept your demeanor neutral for most of the meeting. Besides the communication of micro expressions with Maya.

“Specificlly asian porn, so you don’t want to make it look like anime? Y/n made mock-ups that aren’t that-” Alice says delicately.

“Look, I don’t mean to offend you-” Matt says, looking at Alice, and you try not to roll your eyes like Maya. Of course the white guy was saying that to the asian artist in the fucking room. Jen chuckled but didn’t say a word.

“Not taking it personal-” Alice says, cutting him off before he can actually say something offensive. You decide to stop this before it’s an HR complaint you have to fix, again.

“Matt, if you don’t want it to look like any kind of anime, we can go back to a more claymation look. 2D vector is in because of Rick and Morty.” You offer, and Maya nods, agreeing with you. Because you two always shared thoughts.

“3D, 2D, hand-drawn is cool again because of Cuphead,” Alice adds, and you see Maya’s face twitch, she didn’t like the goth artist. Mostly because Alice had asked you out before you were her boss, and you had to tell Maya what happened. You two didn’t do secrets. You’d walked in with hickies the next day that would put a hentai artist to shame.

“The point is, if you don’t like the more anime style, we can scrap it. No questions asked, we put it in because Netflix and Castlevania, and a bunch of the other ones. Listen, they aren’t producing it, but they’re marketing and distributing it. We just want to make sure our department gives you options. Whatever you guys decide is fine; we haven’t picked a franchise yet. Maybe we start there?” You try to keep it constructive, but Matt is staring at the Resident Evil drawing you’d made of Lady Dimitrescu. The over nine-foot-tall, large-breasted, vampire villain. And you tried to keep your face from looking annoyed at him ignoring you for boobs. Maya eyed you and followed your line of vision to see what was bothering you now.

“Oh god, Matt put the damn drawing down. Don’t get an errection from a fucking drawing ok?” Maya snapped at the exec, who blushed and put it down.

“No wait, that’s a good point. Matt, what gave you a boner?” Patty said, and you closed your eyes. You’d known this was going to happen. You’d drawn it, for god's sake, Maya had seen you drawing it. It was around four am, and you had your drawing table at a tilt as you made sure her breasts were proportionate to the video game. Maya had been in a mood since she couldn’t sleep without you next to her after all these years. But she’d seen you drawing and teased you about your concentration, until she saw what you were drawing, and her jealousy flared. She realized you’d not been in bed with your wife and instead been drawing boobs. So Maya took her top off to show you real boobs and fucked you against the drawing to prove that a vampire had nothing on her.

Looking up at your wife in the conference room, she arched an eyebrow, her lips pursing a bit. You couldn’t talk to her about this even silently right now.

Turning back to Patty and trying to tune back into the debate.

“It has sex appeal.” Sal and Patty were, of course, on the same page. Quinn was looking at the drawing now, and she seemed to be having a sexual awakening. Maybe she’d finally figured out she was gay. Both you and Maya had been taking bets on how long it would take.

Alice was explaining ‘The Village’ to the group. You took off your leather jacket and took a hair tie to tie up your long hair. As you stood and riffled through paperwork. You realized people were staring at you. Not just Maya, that was normal, but you realized men were looking. You turned to see Matt and Sal staring at your cleavage as you wore a low-cut shirt that was Maya’s today.

But then you realized Patty was staring too, and she hadn’t been queer since the 80’s so something was up. Turning to Alice, who was looking too you realized that they were looking at your necklace.

“Is that a key?” Sal asked as he had no ability to hold a thought in.

“What?” You said trying to catch up with what they were curious about.

You look over at Maya, who is smirking. Your eyes go down to her lock, the one around her neck. And then you realize, usually your chain is longer, more hidden, but it had broken during sex this morning. So Maya had grabbed a simple chain from her jewelry box. Then you’d moved the key that went to her lock onto it.

“Oh…” You look down, realizing it’s visible and dangling from your neck. As you are hunched over the table.

“What’s the key go to?” Matt chuckled, and then Patty eyed Maya.

“What’s your last name? Everyone calls you the what is it?” Patty snaps her fingers trying to remember. Quinn nods, trying to remember too and Alice winces at the names. She knew what people called her boss. But Maya licked her lips. Jen tensened next to Alice.

“Yeah, before you got the promotion, they called you Walt’s Monster or the Reckless Rembrandt, and the Deviant of Da Vinci,” Sal said, and your fingers twitched. You knew what they’d called you. You were cutthroat, and you weren’t embarrassed. Maya and you both weren’t afraid of being crazy. You’d once set fire to an animator's desk because he wouldn’t listen to you. And he kept drawing dicks ontop of one of the queer interns illustrations. You felt for the young queer artists, poor Billly. You’d given Billy the assholes job, and you’d made an HR complaint against yourself.

One of many…Because you’d set said assholes desk on fire. You’d taught everyone quickly that bullying wouldn’t be tolerated at your animation house.

But you were feared in the Studio, and you didn’t mind. Maya was feared even more, and you two were a perfect match. Matching each other's freak, but you also were safety for each other.

Nothing was embarrassing or too much in your house. Neither of you ever judged the other. Not for weird spirits of anger or workaholic-like tendencies. You had rules in your house about bedtime and self-care. But Maya knew what it took for an illustrator to make it. And you understood she was the thing between a movie that made it and a movie that tanked. And that was a lot on anyone's shoulders.

But you’d found a home in each other long ago. Before you’d even worked for Maya’s studio.

“Let’s stay on topic.” You interjected through clenched jaw, and Maya just tilted her head at you. You’d both made it a point to not mention that you were married. You’d been worried that people with think that Maya favored your projects because you were her wife. But you didn’t try to hide it that much. Your last name was Mason. But no one called you that; everyone just knew the nicknames.

Maya laughs because she’d planned this. You see that now. She’d been getting annoyed at your desire to not tell people you were married to each other. The two of you had argued about it last weekend.

“We aren’t teenagers. Baby, I don’t like that they don’t know you're mine!”

Maya complained having just got off the phone with her assistant. It was very late. She was in her bra and boxers and you were in her pajama pants and sports bra. Both of you were seated in the theater room. A long L shaped sofa that you were laying on as she paced. Her acrylic nails were perfect as she threw her hands in the air.

You had your large iPad on your lap with your Apple Pencil between your lips. You don’t know what the silly assistant had said, but it had pissed off your wife. Because you were drawing and tuning them out, and now the veins were popping from Maya’s forehead.

You rubbed your temples and took the pencil out of your mouth to respond.

“Maya, I am yours. We know that. I wear my wedding ring to work every day! I’m not exactly hiding you in a closet!” You knew you shouldn’t have met her anger with irritation.

“Alice didn’t seem to notice your wedding ring.”

You roll your eyes at her and she growls.

“You know I shut that down. She’s also one of my best concept and sketch artists. I’m not going to-“

“Mentioning it to HR, protects you both!”

You’d told her you weren’t going to HR because of a harmless, casual ask-out. Alice wasn’t a perv who couldn’t take no for an answer. You’d told her you were married, and she’d apologized. That was that. You’d know if you’d taken her to HR, that would mean Maya could pull her file and make life hell for the poor artist. She’d even blacklist her if Maya wanted.

“Baby-“

“We were talking about trying for a kid! What happens when you are pregnant? I’m not allowed to bring you lunch? Can’t have lunch with my wife?!”

You knew now that Maya was upset yes, but she was scared. Something that you didn’t see from your wife often. You try to ground her in facts.

“Maya you bring me coffee and lunch now! Why would that change?” You say more patient then before.

“So the studio thinks your husband got you pregnant? That you are straight?” Maya sneers and she looks at the large projector screen. You’d put on ‘The Visit’ which had been a fun pick. Maya had not seen it yet, but you didn’t miss a Kathryn Hahn film.

It was the scene where the grandma is getting the young girl to crawl into the oven. Maya looks momentarily distracted but you knew better. She grabs the remote and pauses it. Which you take to mean she is actually enjoying the film enough to not want to miss it.

“No one thinks I’m straight at work.” You tell her and she plops down onto the sofa next to you. She grabs your knees and pulls you into her lap. You are all too happy to sit on Maya’s lap.

“I know you just got that promotion. I’m so proud of you darling. We aren’t on different levels now-” Maya tries to reason with you.

“Say that to my paycheck, Mama still makes a lot more than me.” You tease and smile and Maya doesn’t fall for the distraction.

“You are my wife. I heard my assistant talking with Matt, who was asking Patty if you were single. No one is paying attention to your wedding ring, which is rude since I spent so long picking it. Now I’m tired of this. I want to have your pussy in my mouth in the office. And I want people to get scared when they’re rude to you, because they know your Mommy will skin them alive.” Maya smirks at her sinister thoughts, and you kiss her. She moans as your tongue seeks hers. You start to make out, and it does distract her this time. Maya’s need to possess you, be inside you, it’s just too much.

You’d been an idiot to think that was the end of the conversation. Now looking at Maya with a gleam in her eye and her hair cascading down her gorgeous back that you’d scratched up this morning. You realize she’d planned all of this.

“No I really don’t remember her last name!” Patty said annoyed, not one to be distracted like your wife by your breasts.

“Boss?” Jennifer asks her eyebrows knit in confusion on what to do. Jennifer tended to defend you in the workplace. Which was sweet but not needed. Jen told the men in the office that if you’d been a guy, they wouldn’t have given you such nicknames or questioned your authority. They’d all see you for the talented artist and the sharp business mind you were. You’d fucking studied animation at CalArts. You’d undergrad at the Rhode Island School of Design.

You were a triple threat with illustration. You could paint, animate, concept art, story board, block a fucking scene. You knew so much about special effects that Maya when you first started dating would call you and send you top secret scenes to make sure they didn’t look stupid. You’d helped her, free of charge of course. But somehow Maya always paid you for your work, in fancy dinners, in weekends away, in new art equipment, even in hours of her between your thighs. Maya always liked treating her favorite artist.

“It’s fine Jen, my last name is Mason.” You don’t look at Maya but you turn to Patty and tilt your head much like your wife does. You roll your tongue over your front teeth.

“Shit. Fucking..oh shit.” Sal says, and his eyes look at your wife.

Patty starts to laugh so hard you think she might have broken. Quinn’s mind can’t seem to catch up to how you both are gay and married, and successful.

“Oh my god.” Alice whispers looking down at her lap as if she’s about to totally be fired.

“It’s fine Alice.” You whisper to her and she looks like she doesn’t believe you for a second. So Jen pats her shoulder to comfort the poor artist. Jen wasn’t shocked as she’d worked for you before.

“Woah that’s crazy coincidence! Unless, are you guys like related though, like cousins?” Matt says over Pattys laughter. And Sal looks like he’s gonna combust at Matt’s dumb ass.

“Would she be wearing the key to Maya’s lock if they were cousins Mathew? It’s a fucking kinky thing idiot.” Sal whisper screams at him. You force a smile at the head of the studio.

“Oh my god.” Matt’s mind is starting to catch up and it’s hilarious. Meanwhile Maya just looks like the king of the table. She’s smiling broadly like she’s won the lotto. She’s made everyone uncomfortable and the cat is out of the bag.

Patty finally stands up to stop laughing as she goes over to find the booze and she pours three whiskeys.

“Isn’t it a little early to be-” Quinn says not liking that Patty was drinking in a meeting. But Patty holds the tops of the three glasses pinching them to carry them and the bottle. She pushes one towards Matt. But Sal takes it instead and downs it. Then she walks over to Maya.

“Mozel Tov.” She says and hands Maya a drink. Maya clicks her glass against Patty’s and the two down their drinks.

“Boss?” Jennifer asks again unsure of how to defend you. You’d not needed her defending. But you’d hired Jen when she was like twenty two out of art school. And she’d followed you to the studio. So you knew Kale was ready to walk out if you were.

“Relax Kale, no one’s in trouble. And we are making the Resident Evil and God of War animated films. Matt they’re brilliant and my wife will need a full budget. She’s already got the story board mostly complete but I’m sure Maximoff got a script already, right Babe?” Maya looks at you now and you roll your eyes and nod. Wanda had been your friend for a long time and you two had already been working on stories. The two of you could make anything fantastic together.

“Sounds good to me Matt.” Patty agrees and refills Maya and her own glass.

“So vampires?” Sal asks and Matt is still reeling, his eyes are huge and you don’t know if he can even hear the room anymore. You look over at Alice but she’s gawking at Maya with so much fear. So you turn to Jen to back you and she doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Vampires are part of it, but not all of it. It’s supernatural beings meets Daddy Daughter day. Think The Last of Us kind of a thing.” Jen tells the team and you wish you’d let her talk instead of Alice now. She’d been solid at pitching ideas in the animators room. But she’d not liked white dudes in power, and you couldn’t blame her.

“God of War should be a different type of animation. So people don’t think we’re just re-doing the last thing.” Quinn says and Maya looks ready to tell her she’s an idiot.

“We could do the anime style for Resident Evil, because the sex appeal. Then we’ll make more of a Marvel comic look for God of War. Lots of blood in both but different amount of visual carnage.” You instruct.

“I like it, like Kill Bill animation scene?” Matt says finally looking at you.

“Exactly.” You agree with him, and he smiles. Patty leans down to pour more alcohol into his and Sal’s cup. Like they’d earned it this time. Sal let’s Matt drink this time.

“So manga style for Resident Evil and God of War get’s comic book. Do we lean more towards Deadpool type of humor?” Jen asks and she’s not looking at the room but writing things down.

“No, it’s not gonna sell as well. Keep the Last of Us idea for both. Make it heartfelt but gory and marketable.” Maya says and she sips at her drink.

“Does Hr?” Quinn starts asking Maya who holds up her hand.

“We’re married, and I didn’t hire my girl. The Studio knew the Deviant of Da Vinci was the best fit. I didn’t do a thing. So there will be no complaints or silly favoritism.”

It was a half-truth, Maya was always doing something behind the scenes. But your portfolio got you the job. As for the raise and promotion you weren’t a hundred percent sure she didn’t do something. But Maya kept talking firmly with the class.

“Mrs. Mason got here because she’s the best. My wife also saved our last animated film. Which I was able to market and profit the studio two billion dollars. So does anyone want to complain?” Maya asked and the look in her eyes was enough to make the grown men feel scared.

“Let’s just focus on the films. I’ll have Wanda send over her script for Resident Evil. I’ve got Romanoff and Barton ready to write for God of War. Does anyone have anyone else they want to throw in the ring?” You ask and Patty drinks before shaking her head in surprise.

“You got Wanda Inc and R&B Productions in your back pocket? Matt your head animator needs a fucking raise. Besides if you piss her of she’ll set the place on fire and then Maya will kill you with her bare hands. Da Vinci, honey, you just email me when you've got them all lined up. I’ll come over and produce. Not that it seems like you need any help. We always knew whoever Maya ended up with would be a firecracker.”

“More like a pitbull.” Quinn murmured and you turned and glared at her. She seems a bit scared of you and her eyes went down to her notes.

“Natasha won’t work with us.” Sal said and he took the glass from Matt and drank the last of his whiskey.

“Why not?” Patty angrily snapped at him.

“Because someone tried to hit on her at a Cat Blanchet party and now she thinks our studio is the plague.” Matt said staring at Sal and everyone knew exactly what happened.

“She’ll work with me. Just keep Sal out of the studio when she’s on my side of the lot.” You said confidently and Maya grinned at you. She’d been telling you that the Animation building was ‘yours.’ And now in front of Matt you were owning it. And she couldn’t be more proud.

“We can do that.” Matt said and he grabbed the Resident Evil drawing you’d done of Ethan Winters. “Do we really want him to be white?”

This made another four hours of discussion over voice actors.

_________________

When the meeting was finally over, Matt offered to take everyone out to dinner. You turned to Maya, who didn’t look like she felt anyway about it. But you two spoke a different language for each other. So when you finished your silent discussion, you turned to Matt.

“Sorry Mr. Remick, I need to start illustrations for the first teaser-” He shook his head at you not taking no for an answer.

All of you were walking out of the conference room and you cursed yourself for being friendly.

“It’s Matt! And no way, we’ve never gone drinking together! And with your promotion we gotta celebrate! Right Patty!” He said as you guys walked out the front door in a group. Jen shook her head and you touched her shoulder to bring her to the side. Jen had the big mock ups under her arm and she’d have to bring them back to work tomorrow.

“Bye girl, I’m going the fuck home,” Jen said as Patty, Sal, and Matt bickered about restaurants.

“See you tomorrow. Drive safe, Kale.” You tell her, and she smiles at you.

“Good job today Boss. Two feature films, our old boss could never have gotten them to do one. Continental is about to get rocked by it’s illustrators!” Jennifer shouts at you before she crosses the studio to her side of the parkinglot. Alice waits until Jen is away to ask you something.

“Do I still have a job?”

“Oh my god Alice, yes. I can’t do these films without you-”

“Yeah you could, you could totally Miyazaki the shit out of this. But is Maya gonna let me stay?” Alice asks just as you feel your wife coming over to you. Her hand grabs your ass and you know she’s not a fan of you alone with your flirty animator. So her possessive hand holds your right asscheek to remind everyone on the lot what happens in your bedroom.

“Yes, you have a job. Do not worry. Go get some rest. Early start tomorrow with Wanda, ok?” You tell her and she smiles more reassured and eyes Maya before waving goodbye to you both and running after Jen. You hoped the two of them would get drunk and date each other already.

“You sure know how to manage your minions, Baby,” Maya whispers before her body is flush with yours. One hand coming around your hips. You are holding the file with all the drawings from today. You ignored her compliment and closed your eyes, letting your head fall back onto her shoulder. Her long, dark hair tickling your ear. Before you straightened back up remembering what the three of them were talking about behind you. Maya made a noise of irritation at you moving away from her shoulder. She liked how cuddly you were, she demanded PDA. And now you had no reason not to touch each other at work.

But you broke her pout with your own.

“Please tell me we aren’t going to get drinks with Matt and the gang.” You didn’t turn to look at her as she kissed behind your ear. You felt the last traces of her lipstick against your skin.

“I already told you my thoughts, and you read me better than anyone.” She teases and you knew from before she didn’t want to hang out with them tonight. Maya usually bitched about Matt and Sal after work for twenty minutes each night before she sighed and said ‘ok enough of them, give Mama a kiss’ and you guys continued your night without their names.

“Ok, we settled on a nightclub!” Matt says coming over to you both. You try to hold your grimace but Maya’s hand on your ass squeezes and you know she is aware of your displeasure. The two of you tolerated clubs but neither of you were in your twenties anymore. Clubs weren’t so much fun when you had things like responsibilities and mortgages.

“I’m taking my wife home Matt. You guys have fun.” Maya says and it’s stern and leaves no room for arguing but Quinn comes around with her iphone. And she’s typing and looking up to Sal.

“We have to go! We all have to go! It’s bonding!” She squeals, and you take a half step back towards Maya’s side, and she knows what that means. You feel anxious, and it’s her job to get you out. She’d appointed herself your protector in all things.

“We are leaving, see ya tomorrow!” Maya turns you around and she flips her long hair over her shoulder.

“We need to go by your office and get your stuff?” You ask Maya and she shakes her head. She pulled the keys to her car out of her pocket.

“Nah, Baby, it can all wait until tomorrow. Straight home or do you wanna get Indian on the way?” She asked, and your mood shifted and you beamed at her. Maya always knew what to say.

“Indian, you’ll even let me get it super spicy?”

“Whatever my little artist wants, she gets.” Maya teased and you rolled your eyes at her. But she came around to the front of the executive's lot, where she had one of the best parking spots.

Opening the passenger side you threw your art in the back like it didn’t matter, and her eyebrows furrowed. But Maya closed the car door. You let your head lean back against the sports car's headrest. Maya has a few cars, but you never cared much about vehicles. But she’s got a big Hummer, a SUV, and this little red Bugatti Chiron.

It’s got a gorgeous interior and it costs 3.5 million. You had been shocked when she’d brought it home. You both usually talked about big purchases.

But that was when Maya had been promoted and made the big bucks. So you’d let her celebrate and she’d fucked you inside and on the hood to christen it.

You close your eyes and try to box breathe through the anxiety, and Maya opens her side and she goes over to your thrown art. You hear papers moving, and you open one eye, confused. But Maya is collecting all of you and your team's drawings and putting them back into the folder carefully.

“What are you doing?” You finally ask and she’s put the drawing on the back seat now that they weren’t wrecked all over. “Were you mad I made a mess in your pretty car?” You tease.

She snorts at you.

“No, I just don’t like the idea that my wife’s drawings are crumpled in a pile like they aren’t stunning. Like she didn’t spend a week preparing for that meeting.”

“Maya..” You say like she’s the sweetest, and her face softens, and she leans over and pecks your lips.

“Your art matters to me.”

“You mean because it’s gonna make you a bunch of money and you can buy a Bugatti in blue this time?”

Now Maya throws her head back and laughs.

“No, but that’s not untrue. I cared about your art long before it made Mama any money baby. You have more talent in your pinky finger than every soul combined in this whole lot.” She says starting her car like it’s just a fact she says everyday and no big deal. You grab her strong bicep and she turns to you.

“You actually believe that?”

“Of course I do. And you should too if you know what’s good for you.” Your wife says, and then the Bugatti is revved and she burns rubber as she speeds off the lot.

_______

After you put the order in on your phone, the two of you picked up dinner. You are stuck in traffic now with everyone else in LA. And you groan before grabbing your phone and start checking work emails. Maya has at one point pulled her sunglasses on, and she’s looking at you and not at the road.

You know Maya, you’d been married for thirteen years now going on fourteen and you’d both never stopped fucking. So you didn’t need to see her eyes, or an inch of her face to know what she was thinking.

“Whatever your cock wants right now it’s gonna have to wait until we get home.” You say as you write an email back to Natasha about how the meeting went and what the story elements she wants to incorporate.

It’s not the first film you're going to work on. You figured you’d break your team in half, one side for Jen and one for Alice. You’d have Jen focus on God of War because the comic was more her speed. Alice obviously like you, enjoyed more supernatural animes, and she’d rather work on Resident Evil. Also, Alice played more video games in general so she’d be good on both. So maybe you should need to make her go on both projects and then mayb-

“Darling, stop it.” You looked up to see you were still sitting in traffic, you turned to Maya who had lifted up her sunglasses and was looking at you like she’d caught you doing something naughty.

“What? Is there something on my face? Is it pen again, and you are just now telling me?” You wipe at your nose. You always had pencil or charcoal on your nose. You’d been worse with paint during college. Maya always found it adorable and you knew sometimes she didn’t even tell you, just liked to watch you.

“No, you don’t have anything on your face. You are ignoring your wife though. You are sitting there thinking of how you want to divy up your team. Your answering emails and I need your full attention.”

“You aren’t getting head while we are on the 405 again. You are going to wait until we get home and then you can fuck my throat until the cows come home.” You tell her putting your phone down.

“That’s a visual, what a dirty girl I stole. No, I’m talking about how I’ve been talking to you for the past six minutes and you haven’t listened to a word of it! If we were just now dating I’d be offended. But since we’re married, I know where you sleep. I’ll just get my revenge when you least expect it.” She smirks, showing her teeth now.

“Maya Mason, I apologize for being such a bad wife. What were you wanting to talk about?”

“This week, I was thinking we should have you stop taking birth control. I can call tomorrow and get you in with your OBGYN. I’ll have my assistant clear whatever day you want this week, and we’ll go together. That’s what I was talking about.” Maya wiggled her eyebrows, and it had the effect she wanted as you laughed. But then you did what she didn’t want and you shook your head. And she groaned in clear upset.

“My love, we talked about this. I just got promoted, we need to wait a few years. Let me make a few billion for the studio and have job security-”

“You already have job security because I’ll never let them get rid of you!” Maya says offended that you thought she’d let something so stupid happen at her studio. To you of all people!

“And then once everything's running smoothly, we will take the IUD out. I promise, then you can get me pregnant as many times as you want.” You say, and you see Maya is annoyed and also delighted all at the same time. Before she speaks again.

“Ok, first off, nothing in the studio will ever run smoothly. That’s just showbiz, my girl. Secondly, you are saying I get to pick now how many kids we have?”

“We can compromise, I get to say when and you get to say how many, how about that?” You knew Maya was a business girl down to her bones, and she thought for a minute.

“I am gonna draw up a contract tonight.”

You laugh at her in shock. Your eyebrows went high up your forehead.

“Will this be as legally binding as the key and lock situation we have?” You tease and Maya bites her lip and you can see she’s excited.

“You are going to regret your terms now, baby girl.”

“Oh my god Maya how many do you want!”

“I’m thinking eight.”

“NO WAY! YOU want my vagina to be as congestied as the 405! Your dick will never be snug inside me again! It’ll be a hot dog in a hallway situation!”

“You are unbelievably tight already, and I’m not worried about it. I want eight kids running around who look like you and swear like me. You already said I could have as many as I want, you fucking blew it superstar. I gotta teach you how to negotiate again.” Maya laughs, and the traffic is moving now.

“Is it too late to get a divorce?” You tease, but you see Maya’s lip twitch. She didn’t like joking about divorce and you knew that. She’d never been divorced, never had kids, and she never wanted either. Not until she’d met you.

“Baby.” She said and you slide over and kiss her jaw.

“Sorry Mommy. That wasn’t very nice. Can I make it up to you?” You ask and your hand is on her thigh. It moves up her tight pants and you don’t have to travel far to feel her cock twitch under your hand.

“You know I don’t like it when you say the D word.” Maya whispers and you know she’s not happy.

“You know I’d never. Let me make it up to you? Let me taste you?” You say and you kiss the side of her mouth and you feel her cock harden under your touch. Blood pumping to her shaft and out of her head. And you have Maya Mason wrapped around your finger. You have the key to her heart.

To be continued..

#fanfic #fanfiction #maya mason x reader #The studio fanfiction #Kathryn Hahn #Spotify

303 notes · View notes

hysteria-things · 1 year ago

Note

can u do like a chris or matt smut based on wet dreamz by j cole?? 🙏🙏

WET DREAMZ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: virgin!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt never takes his eyes off of you in math class. passing notes is normal for you guys, until one note changes everything.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,108

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i didn’t mean for this to take so long doing the notes part took a toll on me for no reason😭

matt never liked school, especially math class. he was never good at math and flunked it almost every year.

the only thing good in math class is you, his table partner. he fell head over heels the first he laid eyes on you at the beginning of the year.

the way you always looked nice, smelled good, never had a bad day… he thrived off of it.

he would think you guys became friends, being that you’ll always talk and make jokes instead of doing your work; which you guys always got in trouble for. that’s when the notes began.

on this particular day, you were wearing a shirt that had him gawking, and a skirt that hugged your hips and revealed your thighs made him crazy.

as you smiled and laughed at something he said, he couldn’t help but daydream about you and him. the way you’ll look riding him, your tits bouncing in his face. the way you’ll look at him as you suck him off until he can’t take it.

his pants started to tighten, and his eyes grew wide. the teacher was making students come up to the board to show their work on equations, and he was begging to not to be called up.

you tilt your head at the boy whose cheeks are red, biting your lip while you watch him. you rip off a piece of notebook paper, uncap a black pen, and write something down.

he admired how the cap was between your teeth before you slid the paper to him.

he pauses, staring at the note. he glances at you, who’s tilting their head and biting their lip, patiently waiting for an answer.

he opens a blue pen.

what he wrote is a lie, but if he told you the truth he’ll feel humiliated. he hates being an eighteen-year-old virgin. he feels like a loser, despite being one of the most popular kids at this damn school.

you giggle, a sound that he can never get tired of. you write underneath his message, sliding it back to him.

fuck. he thinks.

his palms start to sweat, gripping hard on his pen so hard that his knuckles turn white. his heart pounds in his chest, the tent in his pants continuing to grow.

matt sighs, scribbling on the piece of paper as if he’s not thinking about you naked on your bed right now.

the food he had for lunch churns in his stomach, wanting saturday to never come.

he knew he’d regret writing those, acting all big and bad as if he’d done this before.

taking a deep breath, matt rings the doorbell, the sound echoing throughout your house. he waits patiently for a few seconds before the door opens.

you’re there, dressed in short shorts and a bra, grinning widely at the boy. he looks you up and down, his dick twitching at the beauty in front of him.

“hi!” you beam, grabbing his hand and leading him inside. “let’s go to my room.”

the walk up the stairs seems long, and matt’s nerves get worse the closer you guys get. he watched porn videos like he was studying for a test, trying to figure out how the hell this works. he knew it would be useless since most porns are bogus.

once you guys get to the room, you push him onto the bed. you unbuckle his pants and pull down, palming him through his boxers.

he groans, praying to not cum already when he feels his dick throbbing painfully under your touch. the way your hand feels rubbing all over him doesn’t help either.

then, you flip your bodies to where he’s on top. you don’t break eye contact as you take off your bra, the way your tits recoil once their free makes matt’s mouth agape.

he pulls off his shirt, throwing it to where your bra is. you nibble at the inside of your mouth when he starts to take off your shorts, though he was hesitant at first.

his breath hitches when he realizes you don’t have underwear on. trying to stop his hands shaking, he pulls down his final piece of clothing. you stare in shock, underestimating how big he is.

he unwraps the condom he was holding and puts it on; at least he thinks. he honestly doesn’t remember how it goes.

exhaling, he aligns himself before you flinch and grabs onto it. “wait.” you say, and he stops. you swallow when his eyes meet your face. “i’ve never done this before.”

it’s like a weight got lifted off of matt’s chest, his nerves suddenly going away.

he smiles. “it’s okay. i’ll take care of you.”

you let go of his dick, and he slowly enters into your tight hole.

matt gains some confidence since you still don’t know he’s a virgin, and starts to move his hips softly. you take a few deep breaths as the pain eases, licking your lips at the fact you’re losing your virginity to the kid you’ve been crushing on all this time.

he moves his hips faster, waiting to see if you’ll protest, but you don’t. you moan louder instead, arching your back. his arms wrap under your armpits so he can grip your shoulders and push in deeper. “matt!” you moan in pleasure. “sh-shit.”

he grunts, sighing with relief that he didn’t fuck this up as he gets the hang of it.

“fa— ah!” he knows what you’re asking for so he doesn’t let you finish once he starts to rut his pelvis even faster into your pussy.

your toes curl, whimpering each time he thrusts deep into you.

your noisy, and you being noisy lets him know how good he’s making you feel. his eyes shut, reaching down to rub your clit for an extra sensation.

eventually, he hits just the right spot that has you moaning like a mantra and clenching hard around his cock.

eyes dazed, you roll them back before you squeal out. “matt— i’m cumming! i’m cu— f-fuck.”

he’s balls deep at this point, his sounds leaving his mouth to the feeling of his cock grazing your walls so swimmingly.

tumbling vowels fall from your lips while you squeeze around him one last time before pooling around him.

“oh my god, y/n,” he whines, his thrusts stuttering before spilling into the condom.

he pulls out, your whole body quivering. he disposes of the condom, and then wiping your watery eyes. he lays next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face in your neck. “thank you so much, matt.”

“no.” he chuckles. “thank you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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teapartyprincess4two · 1 year ago

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Weakness- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x FWB!Matt

classification: slight angst, smut

inspiration: submission for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writer’s challenge, American Jesus by Nessa Barrett

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, slight cursing, no use of Y/n, mention of smoking

summary: You fight your inner desires, but ultimately let your weakness consume you.

—

You pull your skirt up quickly, jumping to get the fabric past your thighs. Matt watches from his bed, his body slumped against the headboard as he lazily pulls a cigarette to his lips. His lips form a smirk as you fumble to get yourself together, his eyes trained on the way your ass jiggles against the fabric of your pleated uniform. Even though you two clearly just finished, an erection grows in his boxers at the mere sight in front of him. His hands flick a lighter over the cigarette, inhaling once it’s lit.

Everything about what you just did —what you've been doing— with Matt is wrong. He’s your best friend's brother; the second you admitted that you had a crush on him you should’ve distanced yourself. Instead, you let yourself cross an unforgivable boundary with him time and time again.

There are so many reasons why this relationship is wrong. First, you’re the cheer captain who’s never been caught with so much as a wrinkle on your uniform. Second, you’re at the top of your class and have never brought home a grade lower than an A. Third, you’re popular and if anyone were to find you with a bad boy like Matt, even if it was just your best friend Nick, your perfect reputation would surely be tainted forever.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” he murmurs, each word being followed by a puff of smoke. He catches your attention through the mirror, throwing a playful wink your way that has you rolling your eyes.

“No, you will not see me next week. This was the last time, Matt,” you retorted, trying to sound confident, but even you struggle to believe your own words. You tug your shirt over your head, fluffing your hair over your shoulders as you examine yourself in the mirror. The school’s logo stairs back at you, reminding you of the reality of your situation, of everything that was at stake.

He’s got lips like cherry wine and cigarette smoke on his breath. He’s got pretty long brown hair, blue eyes that look like sex.

You’re a mess.

Your lipstick is painted across your cheek, your hair remains tangled no matter how many times you run your fingers through it, mascara forms dark circles under your eyes, and hickeys litter every inch of your neck.

Not that he looks any better. His lips are equally as stained as yours and his long, brown hair falls past his eyes.

“You said that last week,” he smirks, the sultry undertone in his voice causing your knees to buckle. He knows that he has you, but he wants you to pledge your allegiance to him one last time before you go.

“I mean it this time,” you say, but your voice trembles; a clear sign of your resolve breaking, and this was no time to give in. There was still time for you to walk out with even a little bit of your dignity. All you had to do was walk out, get in your car, and leave. But some things are easier said than done.

Instead, you go on a nervous ramble. “You probably don’t care, but if anyone were to find out about this– If Nick were to find out about this, I’d be the worst friend ever. And I have so many cheer scholarships lined up too, Matt. I can’t let my grades slip, if I get anything below an A they could take those away. Do you know what my parents would do to me if I lost those scholarships? What they’d do to me if it was all over a boy?” your words are coming out a mile a minute, each insecurity and doubt going in one of Matt’s ears and coming out the other.

“Do you even care?”

It’s not that he didn’t care, he just preferred it when your mouth was occupied with other things instead. Matt takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in your direction. It curls around your figure, lassoing you towards him slowly. He wasn’t good with words, so he’s glad that your body gravitates towards him like second nature.

“This is the last time….” your voice trails off as you fall into Matt’s trance.

Before you know it, you’re crawling over to him and your body has managed to fit perfectly against his. Eager hands fall onto his chest, earning a satisfied hum from him because he knows he won.

Matt takes one last drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs as he dabs the bud onto the ashtray that sits on his nightstand. His hands instinctively pull your face in by the back of your neck, latching his lips onto yours and allowing the smoke to dissolve into the kiss. You used to hate the smell of cigarettes, but now even the taste is addicting.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” Matt instructs, his piercing blue eyes clouded with lust as he watches you intently. Your mind is telling you to stop, to grab your things and leave before anyone can notice you, but the aching feeling that grows under your skirt keeps you planted.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, watching you internally battle with yourself. The comment makes you feel weak and small, but you’re chasing a euphoric feeling that helps you see past that.

Matt’s lips trail down your jawline, finding the sensitive spots on your neck that are already lined with bruises and bite marks. He sucks on a spot that always makes you whimper, simultaneously bunching your skirt up against your waist.

He delivers a swift slap to your ass cheek, painting your skin a bright shade of red. “Matt,” your voice is strained against the kiss, but he knows exactly what you want. Your hands travel from his chest down to his boxers, teasing fingers tracing the outline of his erection. He kisses his teeth at the sensation, pulling away from your neck briefly to watch your perfectly manicured hand cup his clothed penis.

It would be easy for Matt to submit to you, but where was the fun in that?

Knees down at your altar. Please don’t fail me now.

“On your knees, Princess.”

It’s a command that you’re used to, one that you follow without complaint. You wiggle into the carpet, your knees accustomed to the rough feeling that meets them. “Beautiful,” he hums. His body towers over yours, ready to watch you worship and praise the entirety of his shaft.

You look up at him through hooded eyes, asking for permission to proceed. He grants it to you with a lick of his lips, his fingers caressing your face as you pull his boxers down.

Matt’s penis springs out of its constraints. “You know how I like it,” he comments, watching you take his shaft into your hands. You pump it slowly, taking your time with it and making sure to properly service him.

You place a neat kiss on the tip, letting your lips travel down towards the base. From there you lick a stripe back towards the top that has Matt hissing because you wrap your lips around it, almost like you were drawing an exclamation mark on it.

Your tongue swirls around the tip teasingly, lips still hugging around him. Matt’s eyes stare down at you, eager for your every move.

A careful hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pushing your head down slowly on the rest of his length. You gag when the tip hits the back of your throat, your hands moving from his member to his waist. That doesn’t stop him though, instead he bucks into you one more time just to hear you choke around his cock.

You got me red, white, and blue. Pledging my allegiance to you.

“You like that, don’t you?” His question is met with your bloodshot, tear brimmed eyes and a chin dribbling with saliva. Your blue hickeys and red eyes were about to pair perfectly with the white strings of cum he was going to paint your face with.

Ooh, seeing stars in your eyes. No, I’ve never felt so alive.

Matt’s fucking your face at a feverish pace, grunting every time your cheeks hollow around him or his dick presses against the back of your throat. He’s so unbelievably close that he has to shut his eyes because the way your saliva coats his penis and bubbles at your mouth has him seeing stars.

Momentarily, he pulls out of your mouth, giving you enough time to catch your breath before he’s tapping the tip on your lips. “Open,” he grits, shoving himself back into your dazed face. Three more pumps and the submissive sight in front of him is all it takes to push him over the edge.

Spurts of cum land on your tongue, some of it managing to hit your cheek. He collects it on the thumb that brushes your cheek, popping it in your mouth and groaning at how eagerly you lick it clean.

Won’t you take me to heaven tonight?

“Now let me make you feel good, yeah? To remind you how much you mean to me,” Matt whispers, pulling you up and guiding you to the edge of the bed. Now it’s his turn to kneel in front of you, his lips latching onto the skin of your ankles and slowly kissing their way up to your inner thighs.

He nips and sucks on your skin until he’s face to face with your crotch, your arousal evident through your soaked panties. Matt places a gentle kiss on your clothed bundle of nerves, relishing in the satisfied shudder than runs through your spine.

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and forcing you to lay back against the mattress. “Ready?” he asks, but he knows the answer, it’s literally glistening in front of him.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you respond. Weren’t you just claiming to be done with him? And now he has you exasperated at his touch.

Matt uses his teeth to pull your panties down, letting them fall onto the floor before returning his attention to your throbbing core.

He starts off slow, licking your clit just to get a taste of you. Your squirming informs him that this isn’t enough, so he uses his fingers to part your folds. His tongue is flat against you, applying pressure where you need it most.

His right hand presses one leg against the bed while the left clasps under your knees to push your leg in the air, providing him with the perfect position to ravish you. He begins sucking on your nub, burying his face in your juices.

You know all my secrets.

Your hands find his hair, whimpering as you tug at the strands. You’re squirming under him, attempting to pull away at the overstimulation, but his grip on you is so firm that you can’t move.

His left arm slithers from under your knee to over your thigh, wrapping around you tightly enough to tug you even further past the edge of the bed. At this point, your ass is in the air as you chase his face, grinding against him for even more friction.

“Matt— fuck! I’m so close,” you exclaim, propping yourself up on one of your elbows to watch him work. His hair fell past his eyes and his arms were securely wrapped around you; he looked so beautiful.

Your pussy flutters around him, signifying your pending release. So, as to push you closer towards your climax, his right hand leaves your thigh to plunge two long fingers inside of you. The euphoric sensation causes you to throw your head back in pleasure, your elbows giving out until your entire body falls back onto the mattress.

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, “cum for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, your body trembling as your orgasm completely washes over you. Matt watches in awe as your jaw falls slack, small moans rolling off your tongue and floating towards him like a melodic tune.

You’re still catching your breath when Matt places one last kiss on your pussy, crawling over you to capture your lips in a kiss.

“How about we make the last time count?” he taunts, dragging the tip of his cock against your still sensitive folds.

You know you’re my weakness.

You nod your head feverishly, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you. You’re desperate for his touch, your walls crashing down like an addict overcome with their weakness.

That doesn’t seem to satisfy him. “Words. I need to hear you say it,” he grunts, becoming desperate himself.

Tell me you believe in me too. I do.

“I need you, Matt. I’ll always need you,” there’s a pathetic desperation in your voice that makes his dick twitch, and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s plunging deep inside of you.

He sets a steady pace, rocking his body back and forth against yours like it’s the first and last time. His pelvis brushes against your clit with each stroke, causing your hips to lift off the mattress and meet him midway.

Matt pushes your hips back down, knowing that if you keep that up he won’t last. “Patience, baby. Patience.”

He’s got a cross around his neck.

You can’t be patient though, he’s already so deep inside of you and he still doesn’t feel close enough. Your fingers loop around the cross necklace that dangles from his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. Your lips find his in a hungry frenzy, both your mouths moulding into a needy kiss.

Moans and whimpers are exchanged, along with the breathy sound that follows when you look down to see where you two are joined. His cock is covered in your slick, your walls hugging him perfectly with each stroke.

Your hand moves from the necklace to the nape of his neck, caressing and massaging the skin there as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. His necklace sways back and forth, serving as a reminder of how sinful this is. Yet, you never want it to stop.

Matt can tell you’re becoming pensive, so he pushes your hips into the mattress, providing him with a new angle that allows his tip to kiss your cervix. “Matt!” you gasp, the new, delicious angle setting you closer towards the edge.

His animalistic grunts fill the room, he loves when you say his name. “Say it again,” he commands, pulling out of you completely only to snap his hips back in at an ungodly rate.

“Matt!” you exclaim, chanting his name like a prayer.

You’re the greatest love of my life.

“That’s it baby, let go for me,” his words help you reach your climax, your pussy fluttering around him as you come undone. He follows suit shortly after, his head falling into the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

He groans as he releases inside of you, hot breath fanning against your neck. His hips rolls lazily against you, and for a second he lets himself be taken by the immense pleasure that washes over him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he moans, placing sloppy kisses all over your body. He doesn’t realize that he said until he feels your body stiffen beneath him, and honestly he’s not sure what possessed him to admit it out loud.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he stutters, pulling out of you completely. He’s quick to find his boxers and throw them on, leaving you dazed on the bed.

“See you next week?” you ask, a hopeful tone in your voice. Quickly you find your panties on the floor and adjust your skirt. He coughs awkwardly, mostly because he doesn’t know where to go from here.

“This was the last time,” he replies, quoting your words from earlier, but there’s something almost venomous in the way he says it. The sentence breaks your heart and you’re almost tempted to get down on your knees again so he’ll take it back. But you don’t, instead you gather your things and take a fleeting look at yourself in the mirror.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Wouldn’t want your best friend to find out about us anyways.”

You nod your head slowly, a tight lipped smile forming on your face. “Right.”

You were red, white and blue and he never gave you the chance to admit that you loved him too.

—

a/n: 🇺🇸😵 so excited to read everyone’s stories for this challenge!! - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

MASTERLIST

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brockkboeserr · 11 months ago

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last night (blame it on the vodka)

They say drunk words are sober thoughts, so what are drunken confessions of love?

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: a pinch of angst, swearing, alcohol (and its after effects - aka a fat hangover and a twinge of regret)

word count: 3k

a/n: matthew tkachuk is a stanley cup champion!!!! you know i had to do it to ya. ps this idea was formed a million years ago (pre trade) therefore I have simply plucked Cowboys from downtown Calgary to downtown Miami deal with it. big ups to @wyattjohnston for the edit and for outsourcing my geography queries. title and inspo from the song by the same name by lucy spraggan. enjoy my loves and let me know what you think <3

You’re never drinking again.

It’s a mantra you repeat all morning, from the minute you’re dragged back into consciousness by the sound of construction down on the street, to when you finally pull from bed to dramatically slam the window shut, to the one-two-three-four times you end up with your knees on the bathroom mat and your head in the toilet.

You’re far too old to be drinking like that on a nearly empty stomach, far too old to be drinking like that regardless. Okay, maybe that’s a tad dramatic, being a mostly single twenty something year old in downtown Miami. Mostly single in that every time you drank, your painfully unrequited crush on probably the one guy in all of Florida you couldn’t pull came out with a vengeance.

Looking at your phone and all the unread texts you groan, realizing that the little girl who used to write ‘Mrs. Matty Tkachuk’ in all of her diaries came out in full force last night.

Hyping yourself up, you type out and forward the message ‘What the hell did I do last night?’ to everyone you remember being out with you. Everyone, that is, except Matty himself.

Brielle: Last night you told him you loved him

It’s not atypical for you to be out on a Friday night, a group of your closest girlfriends at your side. Neither is it uncommon for the night to begin with the three of you taking thirst traps for the ‘gram before taking shots as the Uber pulls up.

Cowboys is a favorite place, certainly not for the high class atmosphere or clientele—of which you’ll find neither. But who doesn’t love to let loose in an environment where the city boys of Miami don Stetsons and large belt buckles? And okay, maybe you’re a bit of a gambler—though, with money or love as the currency depends on the night.

Tonight you’re pressing your luck, drinking enough to dull the edge and to keep you from overreacting to Matt’s response to the aforementioned Insta story. It’s a simple message, a string of fire emojis, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t refresh the app until his username appeared as ‘Seen’ under the story.

You don’t want to think it means anything when he shows up with a couple of his boys an hour into dancing with the girls. Cowboys is a popular place, evidenced by the crowded dance floor and the complete lack of personal space. So what Brielle was wearing a cowboy hat in one of the pictures and so what everyone and their mother knew this bar was your favorite place to spend Friday nights and so what you’d even tagged the place in a boomerang of your shot glasses five minutes after arriving.

It didn’t mean anything—doesn’t mean anything.

That thought doesn’t stop you from abandoning your friends the second you see the all too familiar head of curls.

“Hi Matty,” you greet, stumbling into him and sliding your hand around his waist. He feels solid beneath your fingertips, warm and secure and everything you’ve ever wanted. His resulting grin could build and topple empires, you think.

But then reality all comes crashing down again as he slides his arm around your shoulders in turn, squeezing gently as he replies, “Hey, Kid.”

It’s the gentle reminder you’ll never be anything more than the annoying girl next door who used to follow him and Brady around like they were the greatest thing in the world.

If he notices the way you deflate, he doesn’t say a word, though his hand rubs comfortingly at your shoulder for a moment until you can’t stand it anymore and go back to your friends and their sympathetic faces.

The thing about you when you drink is the filter comes off. Normally you play your cards close to your chest, making it very hard for others to know your emotions. But a little vodka and you’re suddenly ready to face your feelings head on.

It starts off innocently enough, an over exaggerated ‘I love you!’ when he brings you a drink without you having to ask. But then Georgia is all but holding you down to prevent you from running after him and professing your love. She doesn’t succeed, what with you running into his arms midway through the night anyway.

He has that same grin on his face as you tell him how much you love him, and though he doesn’t mean it the way you do, he tells you that he loves you too just the same.

Though you haven’t eaten in at least twelve hours, the thought of food makes your already upset stomach turn some more, and so you settle for making a cup of tea to get some fluids back in you.

Not quite ready to face the music in terms of what your alcohol fueled self did last night, you ignore the unread messages to flip through some Insta stories. There’s cute pics and videos of you and your girls, you screen shot your favorites and tap away until you pause on a boomerang of Georgia and Brielle. It’s cute enough if you ignore the small stain by Bri’s collar where she’d lost some of the second tequila shot. Oh, and you looking up at Matthew with the most pathetic lovesick look on your face in the background.

It unsettles your stomach further, and so you abandon all plans of tea—turning off your kettle and grabbing the water bottle you’d prepped for yourself before you left last night and taking up residence on the couch.

Putting on a random movie from your childhood on Disney+, you lay back and cover yourself with your favorite quilt. Another wave of nausea washes over you, and so you prop yourself up with a few extra pillows and fall asleep sitting up.

It mustn’t be more than half an hour of uninterrupted sleep before you’re pulled out of it by the incessant buzzing of your phone. It’s a set of four pictures of you on Matt’s lap and another incriminating tidbit from the night before.

Georgia: Last night you told him you need him

“Shut up Sammy,” you glare, angrily poking his chest with your index finger. You’re grateful for the uncharacteristic change in nail shape at your last manicure, the stiletto tip serving as a makeshift weapon that actually makes him wince before laughing in your face.

Truthfully, you’re not sure how the night got to this point—you and your girls hanging around a table with Matty and his boys. You’re not complaining though, not with how your bare legs pressed to Matty’s jeans or how his arm rests above your shoulders, fingertips brushing your skin now and then.

Matt can spot a fight coming from a mile away, well versed in the language that is your rage from the countless years he was the source of it, pulling on your pigtails and breaking your barbies.

“That’s not my name,” Sam rolls his eyes, rubbing his chest and stealing a swig of your beer. “Lightweight.”

He’s referring to your drunken state and the fact that Matt himself had to drag you to the table with the promise of a Bud Light if, and only if, you drank an entire glass of water. Narrowing your eyes, you begin to lunge at him again, stopped only by the force of Matt pulling you onto his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, one hand resting on your stomach and the other on your bare knee.

The effects of being wrapped up in him are almost instantaneous. Your rage quickly simmers, your body relaxes and you all but sink into the embrace. You quiet then, content to let the rest of the table do the talking for the moment while you memorize the feel of his arms.

It’s a nervous habit to fiddle with the small charm around your neck, something you do unconsciously, not even noticing until it’s somehow come undone in your grasp.

“Matty, I need you,” you whisper against the side of his face, watching his eyes darken and the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt with your fist coming at his face with your necklace clenched tightly within.

He visibly relaxes, motioning for you to lean forward and swiping your hair to the side.You grab the strands of your hair after he takes the necklace from you, shivering as his cold hands drag across your skin.

Georgia is shaking her head at you from across the table, having clearly read your lips and witnessed the little moment. You just smile and shrug at her before pressing a chaste kiss to the skin of Matt’s jaw. “Thank you.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dying. By the grace of some higher power, you haven’t seen the inside of your bathroom in a hot minute. Yes, you’ve finally moved past stage one of your hangover, however you’re not out of the woods yet. You’re dying a slow death on the couch—feeling yourself dip more and more into dangerous dehydration levels despite the giant water bottle on your coffee table that had been a gag gift from Matt last Christmas.

Truthfully, the room is still a little spinny and your stomach still a little unsettled, but perhaps the worst of it all is the splitting headache and the sore throat. Both ailments make sense, you’re a yeller when you drink and you’re certain last night was no exception—even if the memories are slow to return to you.

It’s not aggression, not really. It’s more that your body can’t contain all the emotions that you so carefully hide in your day to day life, and without the control that sobriety brings, you’re wont to let them all spill out.

And really, you can’t linger on the what ifs too long, so you settle back in for another nap as an attempt to sleep off the symptoms of your poorly thought out night out with another movie playing as background noise.

Elizabeth has just rejected Darcy when your phone lights up three times.

sam: let’s just say you’re screwed if you ever wake up in vegas

you: fuck off sammy

sam: still not my name, lightweight

sam: at least I didn’t propose last night

“You know, Sammy,” you slur, no longer angry but keeping up the nickname in hopes that the table will think you are and Matty will let you stay in his arms. “You’re very lucky Liz agreed to marry you because other than the hockey thing you really have no redeeming qualities.”

“At least someone wanted to marry me,” he retorts not unkindly.

“Matty would marry me,” you state confidently, tilting your head back to look up at the man beneath you. “Wouldn’t you, Matty?”

“Gonna have to get down on one knee, Kid,” Matty laughs, shaking your body slightly from where it leans against him. The dopiest smile crosses your face at the sound and you know you’re being far too obvious but you can’t help it. Matty laughing is your favorite sound, and happiness looks so good on him. There’s nothing you hate more than seeing him sad or upset. Nothing except dirty, sticky bar floors, which makes your next actions even more comical.

Pulling from his arms for the first time in what feels like an eternity—not that you were complaining—you jump from the table and dramatically flop down to one knee.

“Matthew—M-Matty,” you hiccup, keenly aware of the dozens of eyes on you and yet utterly uncaring of any of them except the icy blue you stare into now. “You’re my b-best friend. Marry me?”

The look he gives you is fond if frigid, not at all the passionate love declaration you were hoping for. Pouting deeply, you don’t move to pull up from the floor. “Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘not right now’,” he answers, getting up himself and pulling you up by your armpits. You wrap around him like a vine, not even protesting as he leads you to the bar to grab another glass of water and some appetizers for the table.

God, you really regret asking about last night. Maybe it was better to live in beautiful, blissful ignorance — if you never remembered all the embarrassing behavior did it really happen?

Unfortunately your vibrating phone simply refuses to let that happen.

brielle: and you totally ate shit on the pavement leaving the bar last night

That certainly explains the dull ache of your biceps, having caught the weight of you alongside breaking your fall. Luckily that appears to be the extent of the damage, given you can wiggle all of your fingers and toes and no other part of your body stings.

Just your ego is bruised.

“Why would we go home?” you ask, gesturing wildly at the emptying bar around you as though it were still the hopping venue of an hour ago.

“Cause the bar staff would like to go home too,” Brielle explains kindly.

“So we go to the next bar? I’m sure there’s somewhere still open, it’s only midnight!”

Matty’s arm is heavy and warm and secure as it wraps around your shoulder to guide you to the exit. “I’ve already called us an Uber.”

You preen at the mention of an ‘us’ between you and Matt, suddenly docile and calm, allowing him to guide you outside.

Far too preoccupied with the weight of him, you miss the broken piece of sidewalk and subsequently toe pick the crack, ending up face down on the pavement.

Matt is quick, pulling you to your feet with ease and examining your face and upper body for damage. “You alright?”

“If I say no, will you kiss it better?” you crack back, only half joking.

Shaking his head at your antics, he guides you into the waiting car before sliding in beside you.

You’re quite content to lean your head on his shoulder the whole drive home, arm curled around his before letting him lead you to your bed.

A joke about inviting him into your bed doesn’t leave your lips, momentarily mesmerized by the gentle way he tucks you in, the soft press of his lips to your forehead.

Could it possibly get worse, you wonder.

Matty: let me up?

He’s got a key for emergencies, and although you usually appreciate that he doesn’t misuse it, in this case you almost wish he would let himself in.

It would give you some extra time to compose yourself and—to be quite honest—you do yet harbor a little fear that getting vertical might have you running for the bathroom once again.

Neither of those things happen—he doesn’t let himself in and you don’t throw up on your way to the door. You make quick work of the lock before opening the door to reveal Matthew looking as well rested as you’ve ever seen him.

The contrast between the two of you is likely a stark difference, but his face doesn’t give anything away if he’s thinking it too.

His first words to you are simple, full of care and compassion. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a bus that then backed right over me again,” you answer truthfully.

His responding giggle makes your insides feel warm and you can only hope you don’t have the tell tale lovesick look on your face. There’s a moment of quiet contemplation—his chest visibly puffs up and then deflates as he takes a steeling breath.

“You said some things last night,” he says and you feel your blood run ice cold in your veins.

You attempt to deflect. “I say a lot of things, Matty. Especially when I’ve gotten into the Tito’s.”

He shakes his head and takes a step towards you. “Last night you said you loved me.”

“Of course I love you, you’re my best friend.” It’s not a lie, not completely anyway. You love him. He’s your best friend. So what if that love you have for him is something a little bit more than friendship?

He shakes his head again, little ringlets of curls shaking with the motion. “Didn’t sound friendly. You said you needed me.” His voice is rough, tone something heavy.

“To fix my necklace, Matty. What are you doing?” Your voice in response is a little wild—short clipped sentences spoken in quick succession.

He appears frustrated. Not necessarily at you, you don’t think, but it’s clear on his face. “That’s not—You said you wanted to marry me, got down on one knee even.

“I was drunk, it’s not that deep.”

He takes the remaining steps toward you, crowding your space and boxing you in with his arms. Yet you know with one word he would back off if you asked.

You don’t ask.

“But what if it is? What if I said that I love you too, that I need you too? That the only person who I’ve ever thought about marrying was you?”

“Matty, what are you doing?” you ask lowly, heart pounding so loud you fear he might hear it.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he murmurs and leans in until your lips barely touch.

It's the invitation you feel you’ve waited a lifetime for. No amount of doubt or hesitation or uncertainty is going to stop you from wrapping yourself around him and deepening the kiss.

It’s soft and sweet—two decades of buildup, of a beautiful friendship turned something more. It’s you and Matty the way it was always supposed to be—the way it was always going to end up.

#nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk x reader #shelb writes

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canthelpit0 · 1 year ago

Text

Cry Baby

Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader

Wordcount : 3.3K+

Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.

Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n

(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)

You had always been a bit of a crybaby.

You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.

So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.

But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.

You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.

You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.

So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.

Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.

Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.

It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.

But you were also easy to break.

You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.

Emma stuck with you though.

Until, middle school.

In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.

Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.

And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.

You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.

And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.

Your heart’s too big for your body.

You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.

Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.

A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.

So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.

You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.

Somehow it worked.

You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.

Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.

You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.

Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.

You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.

Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.

Matt’s PoV

I watch in horror.

Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.

I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.

Both of them are currently not with me.

Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.

I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.

The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.

She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.

But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.

The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.

But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.

I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.

I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.

The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.

Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.

I drown out most of the insults-

“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.

The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.

It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.

To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.

So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.

“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.

She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.

“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.

“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.

It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.

Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.

I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.

Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.

Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.

Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.

She huffs a laugh through a sob.

“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.

The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles

“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.

“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.

“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.

Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.

I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.

Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.

By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.

With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.

The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.

I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.

I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.

I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.

There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,

Or her car.

She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.

I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.

I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.

She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.

Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.

I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.

I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.

“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.

We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.

“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.

“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”

I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?

“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.

I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.

“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.

I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.

“My reputation”

I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.

“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.

“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”

I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.

“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.

In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.

Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.

But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.

I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.

But I was right.

As much as I wish I wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.

She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.

Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.

Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.

But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.

She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.

I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.

My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.

I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.

For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.

I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.

I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.

I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.

I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.

She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.

It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.

“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.

She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.

She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.

I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.

“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.

Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.

I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.

“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.

“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.

Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.

“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.

“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.

“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.

My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.

I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.

I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”

She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.

I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.

“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.

Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.

My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.

I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.

“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.

Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.

She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.

Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.

I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.

I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.

“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.

Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.

“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.

I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.

After all we were still in the school parking lot.

“Please.”

Masterlist

A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh

#spotify #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #angst #sadgirl

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adormeee · 3 months ago

Text

through a window…

(mean!popular!reader x loser!guitarist!chris)

꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ

You were trying to get ready for a dinner you planned with your friends, but no matter how loud you turned your music up, you still heard chris playing his guitar.

of course the deal was when he played with his band he would text you but no, he was alone in his room practicing whatever guitar players practice.

You’ve just had enough of it, you look through your window seeing chris sitting on his bed so locked in. you find something small on your nightstand you can throw.

Just as your about to throw the small item to his window he looks up, his eyes lock in on yours. You signal him to open his window up. he complies as he walks over to the window infront of yours and opens it up.

“i don’t know if you could tell which you probably wouldn’t- but um i cant stilll hear your stupid guitar.” Chris’s face reddens, he didn’t want to make you upset.

but your little pouty lips mesmerize him, how could one be so beautiful while being so ma-

“christopher hello?! seriously are you even listening to me?!!” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“uh wha- yeah i am” chris stumbles over his words, he wouldn’t think he would be talking to you not at all today.

“you seriously need to tell me when you play your little instrument, i can’t think when you play it!” you exclaim trying to express your anger towards him.

“right i’ll be sure to let you know” he flashes a quick smile, you slightly squint your eyes feeling frustrated. “oh i hope you do cause i did not give you my number for no reason.”

Chris was just about to speak until matt comes into his room disrupting “kid dinn… what the fuck are you doing?” he looks towards the window seeing you with your hair rollers and silk rope.

You smile and wave towards the guitarist a quite different demeanor from when you were with chris, matt completely confused finish’s his sentence “uh ok..? dinners ready”.

Matt walks out fully confused but heads downstairs greeting his mom “did you already tell chris about dinner?” she questions him “yup he’s just being a weirdo and talking to that girl next door.”

Chris’s mom is shocked hearing this she knows chris isn’t the best with girls especially girls like you.

“sounds like your brother finally is getting the ladies!” matt’s face scrunches up thinking about his brother being with any girl.

“mom please that girl is so selfish” matt rolls his eyes, “sounds like someone’s jealous” she tells matt as she serves him a plate of food.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Meanwhile upstairs chris is listening to you talk– well he’s trying but he cannot stop starting at you, everything your saying is coming out one ear to the other.

You still don’t feel like you are getting your point across no matter how much you’re telling him all you get from him are nods.

“yknow what chris it’s fine, it’s fine” you take a deep breath in before continuing “ i have to be somewhere soon and i can’t waste my time talking to you, so please do both of us a favor and keep your hobbies on the down low.”

you shout as you rapidly shut your window, you turn around back pressed against you the window. wondering how a supposed fun weeknd turned into the biggest migraine of your life.

on the other hand chris is left there dumbfounded, he didn’t think his weekend would’ve gotten him at least two conversations with you. maybe if luck is on his side you’ll talk to him in school.

꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ ꣑ৎ

a/n: for me taking so long this is not my best work but i had like three different ideas before i chose this… yikesss🐰

taglist: @mialovesyouchris @sturniolosymphony @courta13

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #guitar #mean!popular!reader #loser!guitarist!chris #loser!chris #argument #one sided love

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hockeybabe · 1 year ago

Text

Shoot Your Shot | M. Knies

Not my gif

Pairings: Matthew Knies x f!reader

Summary: Matthew has had a crush on you and just can’t refuse you.

Warnings: slight smut, Matthew can’t resist his crush, fingering, swearing, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking?

Word count: 1.5k

Note: ngl after I saw this gif, I knew I had to write smth for it. Also I went to a leaf game!!!! I GOT TO SEE CAPTAIN QUINN!

“Just come to the game.” You heard for the third time this day. You worked at a local coffee shop that wasn’t far from Scotiabank Arena, where the Leafs played. Your most regular customer, Matthew Knies, was always asking you to come to his game. You were a hockey fan but never went to games, thanks to your boss.

“That’s really nice, Matt, but I’m working.” You said, cupping the lid of a drink. Matthew groaned, leaning his arms against the counter, and walked away to find a booth. You called the name on the receipt, handing the person their drink. “Sally, I’m on break.” You told your co-worker as you put your apron up on the hook.

“You can’t be mad at me.” You said, walking up to the booth and taking a seat right across from him, folding your hands over the other. “I’m not.” He grumbled, not looking at you. You rolled your eyes. “Look at me.” You ordered him, and he did so reluctantly. “I’ll be watching from there.” You pointed at the TV that was displayed in the corner of the shop.

“It’s not the same, Y/N. I’ve wanted you to go forever. Just ask your boss.” He begs. You knew Matthew’s name had popularity, and your boss would never believe you if he weren’t there in person. "Look, I try all the time. It’s not worth it.” You said getting frustrated and walked away to start your shift again.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you and couldn’t stand to see you upset, especially at him. What he didn’t tell you was that he already talked to your boss and got you a ticket to the game right at the glass. But now he was scared you wouldn’t show when he went for pre-skate, and it would crush him.

Matthew looked down at the watch on his wrist, noticing he had to make his way to the rink. “I’ll see you y/n.” He said leaving money along with the ticket to the game. You watched him leave as a soft sigh left your lips. Liking Matthew wasn’t something you wanted, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he liked you, but being with a hockey player isn’t the easiest thing to do.

You had seen some hockey players girlfriends get attacked on Instagram for being in love, but you couldn’t deny the honest attraction you had for Matthew. He was everything you ever wanted in a guy. You walked over to the booth he was at and picked up his cup, noticing the money along with a strip of paper with the leafs logo on it.

You put the cash and paper in your apron pocket before putting the mug in the dish area. You walked over to Sally and leaned against the counter, noticing Matthew had left you a ticket to tonight’s game against Vancouver. “What’s that, y/n/n?” Sally asked. You lifted the ticket up and showed her. “Someone’s got a crush.” You heard it from behind.

You turned around and saw your boss with her arms crossed. You sucked in a breath and said, "It doesn’t matter. I’ve got work.” You said it in a low voice, not wanting to piss your boss off. “Y/n, go to the game. I already talked to the boy and the rest of his team. I’ll tell you they’re persistent.” Your mouth fell slightly at her words. “They were here?” You asked. “Oh yeah, all of them. All because that one rookie likes you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You are going, right?” Your boss asked, walking closer. “I’m mean, yeah, but who’s going to run-" “It’ll be closed for the night.” Your boss cut you off. Another thing your boss shocked you with was that she never closed the cafe unless something was wrong in her life. Whatever the team said to her, it must’ve changed her.

“Well, um, I got to go then.” You said untying your apron and grabbing your personal belongings. “Oh, you almost forgot this.” Your boss said handing you a jersey with the name Knies stitched on the back along with his number. “Now go.” Sally said pushing you to the door. You laughed at them, quickly placed the jersey over your clothes, and headed to the rink.

“Miss y/l/n?” Someone said to you. “Yeah,” you answered. “Please come with me. Mr. Knies asked for me to take you to your spot.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you followed him. You were walked all the way to a room with a TV with the game on, a bar, couches, and women.

“Y/n, right?” You were greeted by a blonde. You nodded slowly. “Steph, Mitch’s wife.” Your eyes widened in realization. You were in a room with the players girlfriends and wives. “It’s nice to meet you.” You shook her hand as she led you to the balcony to watch the game.

The game was already in motion, and Vancouver had a good offensive game. The Leafs were in the Vancouver zone, and there it was. A Knies goal, you couldn’t help but smile as Matthew pointed up to where you were. “He’s gotta good eye.” Steph says as the others cheer. "Yeah, he does.” Another says. “Aryne.” The woman says. “Matthew lives with me and John.” She says.

You smiled at the woman and continued to watch the game and talk to the other girls. The Leafs ended up winning 5-2. “You’re coming.” Steph said, licking her arm through yours as you made your way to the den and waited for the players.

You felt slightly overwhelmed by the number of people who knew who you were and even by the players coming out and introducing themselves. After John, you watched Matthew stroll out. You felt yourself smiling as your arms crossed over your chest. “Player of the game?” You cocked a brow at his Leafs belt. “Gotta keep it up.” He responded pulling you into a hug.

“We’ll talk about this.” You said this as he pulled you to the parking garage, where his car was. You sat in the passenger seat watching Matthew drive to your apartment, and it was something. You knew he was sneaking glances at you with the number of times he clenched his hands on the wheel, turning his knuckles white as you clenched your thighs together.

You get to your apartment, and you watch Matthew contain himself, shuffling his hands in his pockets and letting out deep sighs. Opening the door, you pull Matthew’s arm toward your bedroom. At the edge of the bed, Matthew turned you around and crashed his lips against yours. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, looming over you.

“Hi beautiful.” He said trailing his finger along your collarbone. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks. “I like your jersey.” He said it with a casual smirk. “I think I like it too.” You responded biting your lip slightly. The tension floated around you two for a while before you grabbed the collar of his shirt and teased him, thinking you would kiss him, but instead you kissed the corner of his mouth.

Matthew bunched up your jersey before kissing you. His hands trailed to your tits as he pinched your nipples and massaged your boobs. You moaned into his mouth, giving his tongue access. You both fought for dominance, with him eventually winning. Matthew trailed kisses to your neck, finding the sweet spot, while he slowly peeled your top layers off and unclasped your bra.

Feeling antsy, you moved your hands down Matthew’s body, putting your semi-cold hands under his shirt and feeling his body. “Fuck.” He hissed into your ear, feeling the coolness of your hands. You whimpered as Matthew grinded into your core. “Off.” You moaned as he kissed down the valley of your breasts to your pant line.

Matthew sat up on his knees, peeling off his shirt, while you admired from below, biting your lip. You started to peel off the rest of your clothes with the help of Matthew until you were both completely bare. Matthew trailed kisses along your things as his finger traced your folds. Your back arched at his touch, and he used his other hand to force your hips down.

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled, thrusting one finger in as you moaned. Matthew continued to thrust his finger while using his thumb to play with your clit. “More.” You begged in a muffled voice. Matthew instantly responded, adding a second finger and increasing his pace. You thrashed in your position, using your hands to grip the sheets. “That’s it princess. Let go. Come for me.” You let out a whimper as you fell apart on his fingers.

Matthew trailed his fingers up your body to your lips as you sucked the juices off his fingers. “Jesus baby. You’re so hot.” He smiled while lifting you up, allowing you to straddle him. “You’re hotter.” You said smiling back before kissing him.

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matsbaby · 2 months ago

Text

Stalker much?

photographer!matt x popular!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual content

part two

Matt had photographed you before.

Many times, actually. Through the lens of his camera, he had captured you walking down the hallway, laughing with your friends, flipping your hair over your shoulder in that effortless way that made his brain short-circuit.

He liked to think he was subtle about it, but deep down, he knew—knew that his fingers trembled a little too much when you looked in his direction, that his camera strap nearly slipped off his shoulder when you walked past him in your signature scent of vanilla and something expensive. He was hopeless. Absolutely, pathetically hopeless.

So when his English teacher paired him with you for the upcoming literature project, he was sure his heart stopped beating for a full five seconds before kicking back into an erratic rhythm.

“Hey, Matt.”

He nearly swallowed his tongue.

You were standing in front of him, your voice smooth and casual, like you hadn’t just rendered his entire nervous system useless. He forced himself to meet your eyes, which was a mistake, because up close, you were even more stunning—your sweet eyes, your long mascara clad lashes fluttering slightly as you waited for him to respond.

“Yeah?” he stammered, gripping the edge of his desk.

You smiled. God, your smile. “Do you wanna study at your place or mine?”

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to process the question. “Mine,” he blurted. “I mean—if that’s okay with you. But if you want, we can totally do yours, or even the library, or—”

“Your place is fine.” You tilted your head. “Text me your address?”

He nodded too quickly, fumbling with his phone like he’d never used it before.

By the time you left, he was sure of one thing: this project was going to kill him.

Your first study session at his house was awkward, but not unbearably so. Matt was nervous—of course he was nervous—but you made it easier than he expected.

You lounged comfortably on his bed, flipping through your copy of The Great Gatsby, while he sat stiffly at his desk, pretending to focus on his notes instead of the way your skirt hiked up just slightly when you shifted.

By the third study session, you invited him to your place.

Walking into your bedroom was like stepping into another world. High ceilings stretched above him, the walls painted a soft, elegant grey. Framed black-and-white photos adorned the space alongside a cheeky print reading ‘Need money for Porsche’.

A luxurious walk-in closet stood slightly ajar, revealing rows of perfectly arranged clothes and an open drawer brimming with delicate, lacy bras in every color imaginable. Dark red, navy blue, classic white and black, pale pink… even fun prints like leopard and zebra.

Matt swallowed hard.

Pink peonies sat in a pristine vase on your nightstand. Your vanity was expansive and immaculate, lined with neatly arranged perfume bottles and candles that filled the room with the scent of warm vanilla and jasmine.

You plopped onto your bed, crossing your legs to the side to keep your skirt from revealing too much, and gestured for him to sit beside you. “You coming, or are you just gonna stand there and gawk at my room?”

He snapped out of it, forcing a chuckle. “Right. Sorry.”

You smiled at him as he hesitantly sat down. “So, The Great Gatsby…”

He tried to explain a passage to you, but his brain malfunctioned every time you shifted, every time your perfume hit his nose, every time your gaze landed on him with that teasing glint. He stuttered over his words, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Then, out of nowhere, you dropped a bombshell.

“Did you know Fitzgerald didn’t actually write this book?”

Matt blinked. “Huh?”

You nodded, lips curving in amusement. “Yeah. There’s a whole theory about it. Apparently his wife Zelda did and he just… stole it for fame.”

He stared at you, realization hitting him like a freight train. You weren’t just the effortlessly cool, unattainable popular girl with the perfect hair and a closet full of designer clothes. You were smart. And funny. And so much more than he ever let himself imagine.

His crush was somehow getting worse.

…

At some point, you took an ice cream break.

The second you left, Matt—like every other teenage boy in a girl’s room—let his curiosity win.

He wandered over to your vanity, where a small journal lay open. His eyes skimmed the to-do list:

1. Go grocery shopping

2. Gym

3. Shower

4. Attempt to make cookies

A small smile tugged at his lips.

His gaze landed on another item: a perfect first edition of Lolita. That was…. surprisingly arousing.

Before he could process it further, you returned, catching him mid-snoop. “Having fun?”

He jolted, face heating. “I wasn’t—I mean, I—”

You laughed, shaking your head as you sat back down. “Relax. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Oh, fuck.

You changed the subject, asking him about photography, and for the first time, he relaxed. Talking about his passion came naturally, and soon, the conversation flowed. Until—

He smeared chocolate on his jeans.

“Hold still you got a little-,” you instructed, leaning in to brush it off.

He stopped breathing.

It was right on his dick.

“Woah—hey!” He nearly choked. “I-I got it! It’s fine!”

“You’re making it worse.” You pressed harder, your touch burning through the denim.

He was going to die. Right here. On your bed.

His body betrayed him in the worst way possible. He could only think one thing Hot girl touching me- hot girl touching me- hot girl touching me—

“I-I’ll get it off in the bathroom” he yelped, bolting to his feet.

Once inside, he gripped the sink, willing his very obvious problem to go away. He thought of grandmas, teachers—hell, even algebra. Nothing worked. He was still hard.

By the time he returned, he was semi-soft, and you—being the absolute angel you were—had already highlighted passages in his book to help him.

He was never going to recover from this.

…

When it was time for him to leave, you walked him to the door.

“Come by tomorrow?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

Then, before he could process what was happening, you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Bye, Matt,” you murmured, your voice laced with something sweet, something dangerous.

He stood frozen as you shut the door.

As he walked to his car, something made him glance up.

Matt shouldn’t have looked. He knew that. He should’ve just gotten in his car, driven home, and tried not to replay the feeling of your lips on his cheek over and over in his head.

But when he turned, just one last time, his gaze was drawn to your window like a magnet.

And there you were.

Your room was illuminated by the soft glow of your vanity lights, casting golden shadows on your walls.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, your reflection sharp, ethereal. Your top was gone, tossed somewhere onto your bed, leaving you in nothing but a pair of dangerously revealing cheetah-print lingerie.

The bra hugged your curves perfectly, the lace detailing delicate yet bold, framing the swell of your breasts in a way that made his throat go dry. The matching panties sat low on your hips, accentuating the smoothness of your skin, the sleek lines of your body.

But it was how you looked in the mirror that made something tighten deep in Matt’s chest. The slight arch of your back, the way your hands delicately cupped your tits, adjusting the lace, your fingers grazing over the soft fabric as if you were savoring the feel of it. Your lips were parted just slightly, the gloss catching the light, your hair falling effortlessly around your shoulders in a way that looked both intentional and completely natural. Messy, but perfect.

It was something out of the ‘90s. One of those raw, unfiltered supermodel moments—Kate Moss in a dimly lit dressing room, Naomi Campbell caught between wardrobe changes, Cindy Crawford fixing her lipstick in a mirror.

Except this wasn’t a magazine shoot. This wasn’t meant for anyone else’s eyes. This was you.

And Matt—who knew better, who knew he shouldn’t—reached for his camera anyway.

He barely even thought about it. It was a need. A photographer’s instinct.

The shutter clicked.

The image froze in time.

You, turned towards the window with your body, but towards the mirror with your face, your side profile sharp and breathtaking. The soft curve of your waist and hips, the elegant arch of your neck. The subtle part of your lips, the tension in your hands as they held your own body, as if you were trying to appreciate yourself through your own touch.

It was art.

It was you.

And Matt—despite everything, despite knowing how wrong it was—knew it was one of the best shots he had ever taken.

This is actually so embarrassing to post but it’s been sitting in my drafts for like forever so.

English is not my first language guys 😭 but I tried. i have no idea if im gonna make a part two, maybe if u like it idk.

lots of love,

Mats 💐

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sturnsblogs · 19 days ago

Text

LET EM YELL

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

—

You’ve been extremely upset and sick… not physically, not the kind of sick a thermometer could prove. But the kind that settles into your chest and refuses to leave. Heavy. Cold. Embarrassed. Heartache kind of sick.

You haven’t been to school in days. You haven’t replied to Matt, either.

His texts were few. Spread out. Impatient.

Matt:

“u dead?”

Matt:

“mrs. bennett gave me your dumb homework. i’m not your errand boy btw.”

Matt:

“you ignoring me now? sick.”

Matt:

“cool. stay mad then.”

You left him on delivered every time.

At school, Matt pretended it didn’t matter. He had friends. He had noise to distract him. But the empty seat next to him? That was hard to ignore.

You usually filled the space beside him with your nonstop chatter, stories, makeup questions, and random complaints about your mom.

It was weird without it.

Chris nudged him in the hallway between fourth and fifth period.

“You good, Matt?”

He blinked, then nodded with a forced shrug. “Uh… yeah.”

But he wasn’t.

After school, something pulled at him.

He walked to your house, gripping a crumpled worksheet from Mrs. Bennett. It was his excuse, but it wasn’t the reason.

He knocked.

The door creaked open, and your dad stood there. The resemblance to you was there—but colder. Harsh.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice flat.

Matt gave a nervous smile. “Hi… I’m one of Y/N’s friends. She hasn’t been at school, and I wanted to drop off her homework.”

Your dad rolled his eyes. “That dramatic kid? She’s fucking useless,” he muttered, turning around and walking off without another word, leaving the door wide open behind him.

Matt’s brows furrowed. His stomach turned, but he stepped inside quietly, following the familiar hallway to your room.

He knocked gently once before opening the door.

There you were—tucked under a blanket, curled away from the world, back turned to the door.

“Hey…” he said softly, leaning against the doorframe.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t even flinch.

He stood there for a beat, watching you in the soft light spilling in from the hallway. You looked small. Tired. Quiet.

Matt had never seen you quiet.

“…I, uh—I brought your homework. Mrs. Bennett wouldn’t stop reminding me.” He paused. “You know, since I’m your assigned seat partner and all.”

Still, silence.

He stepped a little closer, his voice quieter now. “You gonna keep ignoring me forever or just until your mascara stops running?”

No answer.

He sighed, pulling the chair at your desk out with a soft scrape and dropping the worksheet onto it.

Then he sat down slowly, looking at the back of your head like it might give him some clue what to do.

“I didn’t mean what I said. Or maybe I did, but I shouldn’t have said it like that. I don’t know.”

Another pause.

“Your dad’s a piece of shit, by the way.”

Still nothing.

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I didn’t think you’d disappear. I didn’t think you’d actually care what I said.” His tone faltered. “I guess I didn’t think a lot.”

The silence stayed, heavy and awkward.

He glanced at you again, waiting.

“…You gonna say anything?”

Nothing.

Matt stared at you for another few seconds, then slowly stood up. He walked over, the soft creak of the floorboards under his feet the only sound in the room. You didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. Just laid there—facing the wall, wrapped in silence like a second blanket.

Without asking, he sat down on the edge of your bed, then slowly laid back next to you. Close, but not touching.

After a moment, he shifted closer—close enough that his breath hit the back of your neck. You felt it.

Then you felt his fingers lightly brush under your jaw, tickling the curve of your neck. Featherlight, teasing.

You squirmed a little, pulling the blanket tighter around you, your voice muffled.

“Stop…” you mumbled weakly, pushing his hand away without even looking.

But he didn’t stop. His fingers slid again to your neck, drawing another squirm out of you.

“Matt,” you said, sharper this time. “I said stop.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just exhaled—something between a sigh and a chuckle—and then he gently gripped your jaw. Not hard. Not rough. Just enough to make you turn your head toward him.

Your tired eyes met his, rimmed with red and glazed with tears you didn’t want him to see.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

You tried to look away again, but he didn’t let you.

“Stop hiding,” he murmured.

Then he sat you up gently, hands on your arms to guide you. You sat cross-legged now, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, avoiding his eyes.

Matt sat beside you, one leg bent on the bed, his voice low.

“You don’t get to just disappear like that,” he said, more serious now. “You don’t get to let what I said keep you in this bed like you’re nothing.”

You bit your lip, head still down.

“I was a dick,” he admitted. “But you—You don’t get to believe what I said. Not when I didn’t even mean it.”

You finally looked at him, voice cracked and barely audible. “You said I wasn’t the type of girl you’d want.”

He exhaled through his nose and leaned back slightly, staring at the ceiling before dropping his eyes back to you.

“Yeah, well,” he said, a little softer, “maybe I didn’t think I was the kind of guy who deserved someone like you.”

You blinked, surprised.

He shrugged, trying to play it off. “But I didn’t say that part. ‘Cause I’m an idiot.”

You stared at him, unsure what to say.

He stared right back.

“Say something,” he murmured. “Yell at me. Slap me. I don’t care. Just—don’t shut me out.”

Your eyes dropped again, lashes heavy with everything you were feeling. You were quiet for a second, and so was he. The kind of silence that made your chest hurt.

Then Matt reached out slowly, brushing a thumb under your eye. “Your face is all blotchy,” he muttered, voice low.

You flinched a little. “Wow. Thanks.”

He smirked faintly. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Your gaze narrowed.

He looked down, almost like he was embarrassed for once. Then his voice softened more. “You’re… pretty. Even without the makeup.”

Your breath caught slightly. You weren’t expecting that—not from him.

You looked away quickly, pretending to busy yourself with the blanket around your shoulders, heart thumping like it didn’t know how to take a compliment from him of all people.

“You wanna, uh…” he cleared his throat and leaned over, grabbing your backpack that was dumped beside your bed. “Do your homework together or something? I brought all your shit.”

You glanced at him, surprised again. “You’re offering to help me with homework?”

He raised a brow. “I’m not completely heartless.”

You gave the smallest smile, your voice soft. “Thanks, Matt…”

You both sat back against the headboard, him flipping open your notebook and reaching for a pen.

And then it happened.

The yelling.

First it was your mom’s voice, shrill and bitter—saying something about how “this is exactly why she’s never gonna make it” and “she’s been moping around like some pathetic little brat.”

Then your dad jumped in. “She’s an embarrassment. I’m tired of her always needing attention like she’s some kind of victim. She doesn’t even try.”

Matt paused mid-sentence.

You froze completely, your arms curling tighter around your knees as you pulled the blanket up to your chin, trying to shrink into nothing.

Their voices kept getting louder, crueler.

Matt looked over at you, expression hardening as he listened to the way they talked about you. Like you weren’t just in the next room. Like you weren’t a person at all.

You bit your lip so hard it hurt, trying to hold it together, but your eyes welled up. Your face went hot with shame and hurt, and you couldn’t stop it—you turned away from him again, pulling the blanket almost over your head.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry, Matt. You shouldn’t be here.”

He didn’t move for a second. Just looked at you with that unreadable look of his.

Then he quietly reached over, sliding your books off your lap and setting them aside.

You felt the bed shift as he laid down beside you again, just close enough for his arm to press against yours under the blanket.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “Let ‘em yell.”

You stayed curled in on yourself for a moment, still breathing unevenly, but then you felt his arm slowly snake around your waist. It wasn’t forceful or weird—just grounding. Warm. Secure.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just pulled you a little closer under the blanket, and it worked. You turned slightly, instinctively leaning into him like your body knew it was safe there. When you looked up, your nose brushed his.

You froze for a second, your heart practically launching into your throat. Matt didn’t move away.

In fact, he smirked.

“Your nose is cold,” he whispered.

You blinked. “What?”

He shrugged slightly. “Just saying.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. And then he added, almost seriously, “You know, I read somewhere that if you wear socks to bed, it helps with blood circulation. Maybe that’s why your nose is cold. Your blood’s like… confused.”

You blinked again. “Matt, what are you even talking about?”

“I’m trying to help,” he deadpanned. “This is serious. We gotta save your nose.”

Despite yourself, you let out the tiniest laugh. The edge of your lip twitched, and he noticed. His smile softened just a little.

“And also…” he tilted his head slightly, voice going quieter as he added, “You make really ugly crying faces. But it’s kinda cute.”

You smacked his chest gently. “Oh my god, you’re the worst.”

He chuckled and squeezed your waist a little. “But you’re not crying anymore, are you?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying not to smile as you looked up at him. The shouting from the other room faded slightly—still there, still loud—but less important in this moment.

You were here. And so was he. And for once, you didn’t feel alone.

—

A/N- FORGIVENNNNNN

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemfemme @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @55sturn

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pinkssluv · 5 months ago

Text

1980s Bsf! Reader X Bsf! Matt

Please be nice this is my first time writing <33 lol.

Lmk if I should continue this! :)

It was Thursday night, the evening before your and Matt’s annual Friday movie night. You waited in front of the school for Matt to swing his car around from the parking lot. When he pulled up, you rolled your eyes—his other best friend, Michael, was sitting in the passenger seat.

As you walked toward the car, Matt patted Michael’s chest. “Come on, man. Head to the back.” A small smile tugged at his lips, as if he already knew Michael would protest.

“No way! You get in the back, sweet cheeks,” Michael shot back, smirking, which made Matt scrunch his face at the nickname.

“Mike, moooveee from my seat,” you interjected, dragging out the word.

“Technically—” Mike began, raising a finger in a mock-know-it-all way.

Before he could continue, Matt honked the horn, cutting him off. “Get to the back, man,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Michael unbuckled his seatbelt. “Alright, you know what? I don’t need this,” he scoffed dramatically, stepping out of the car. “Enjoy your seat, princess,” he teased.

You giggled as you climbed into the passenger seat, glancing out the window to see Michael still standing there with an attitude.

“Dude, are you getting in the car or what?” Matt asked, suppressing a laugh at Michael.

“Who, me?” Michael asked, pretending to look around. “No, I’ll just stand here and get a ride since my best friend is divorcing me.”

You and Matt exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up,” Michael muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, man. Are you seriously not getting in?” Matt asked, grinning.

“Leave me alone, Matthew,” Michael said dramatically before walking away.

You turned to Matt, chuckling. “That’s your best friend.”

“Nah, he’s just some guy who follows me around,” Matt joked as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

“So, I know what movie we’re watching tomorrow,” you said excitedly.

Matt glanced at you, his smile widening at your enthusiasm. “Alright, hit me.”

“It’s called Return to Horror High,” you said, giggling, already anticipating his reaction.

“What the hell is that?” he laughed, and you shrugged.

“It’s a new movie at Newsman’s,” you explained, referring to the video store you two frequented.

“Alright, fine. We’ll watch your lame movie tomorrow, but next week, I’m picking,” he teased.

“Hey, don’t be mean!” you protested, laughing. “Return to Horror High could be good.”

“Yeah, sure,” Matt replied, giving you a knowing look before rolling his eyes with a smile.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you what happened to me today,” he said, breaking the silence.

“What happened?” you asked, curious.

“You know Sarah? Sarah Greene?”

You nodded, a twinge of distaste flickering across your face. Sarah Greene was the textbook definition of a popular cheerleader—blonde hair, blue eyes, and every boy’s dream girl.

“Well, she asked me out,” Matt said, shaking his head with a small laugh.

Your heart sank. Sarah Greene asked him out?

“What do you mean?” you asked, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Don’t sound so shocked, princess. Some people find me cute,” he said playfully, nudging your shoulder. His teasing didn’t ease the knot forming in your stomach.

“Anyway, she invited me to some party tomorrow night,” he added casually.

Your mind raced. How could he be so calm about this? Matt wasn’t exactly popular. When did she even notice him?

“Are you gonna go?” you asked hesitantly.

“Of course not! I have a date with Return to Horror High,” he said with a laugh, glancing at you. The smile on his face eased your worries.

“Are you sure?” you pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why would I go to some really awesome, cool party when I could be at your house watching a terrible horror movie?” he teased.

“Ew. Go to your stupid party, then,” you shot back, feigning offense.

Matt laughed. “Calm down, I’m just joking, princess. I’d rather stay with you any day. I don’t care about Sarah Greene,” he said, nudging your shoulder again. You smiled. “Alright,” you said softly, leaning back into your seat as he drove on.

It was Friday night. You had gotten a ride with a friend to Newman’s to rent a copy of Return to Horror High for your movie night with Matt. By the time you got home, movie in hand and snacks ready for the two of you, it was already around 8 p.m.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw your mom cooking at the stove. She glanced at you with a sympathetic look.

“Oh, hi, honey. Matt called while you were out,” she said gently. “He said he wasn’t going to make it tonight.”

You felt your heart sink. “How come?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Your mom shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

You nodded, the disappointment settling in as you quietly put the snacks away.

The rest of the night felt hollow. Friday nights were never something you spent alone, and now you had no idea how to fill the time. You tried painting your nails, fixing your hair, and even tidying up your already-clean room, but nothing seemed to distract you.

Hours passed, and eventually, you climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling. The thought lingered in your mind: Did Matt go out with Sarah?

Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was restless.

It was midnight when the sound of pebbles hitting your window stirred you awake. Groggily, you sat up, blinking at the darkness, and peeked outside. Matt stood below, arm poised to throw another pebble.

You opened the window, your curiosity laced with irritation.

“Matt!” you whisper-shouted. “What are you doing?”

He grinned up at you, lowering his arm in relief. “Thank God you’re up, princess.” He sighed dramatically. “Could you let me in?”

You stared at him, annoyed. “I don’t even know what time it is.”

“It’s like 12, I think,” he said sheepishly. “Please let me up. I promise I’ll explain everything.”

Rolling your eyes, you shut the window and crept downstairs to unlock the back door. Matt slipped inside quietly, and the two of you made your way back to your room.

Under the dim light, you finally got a good look at him. His lip was split, and a black eye was forming.

You gasped, stepping closer. “Matt, what happened to you?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gently placed his hand over your wrist. “It’s nothing, princess,” he tried to reassure you.

You shot him a skeptical look. “I don’t believe you.”

He sighed. “I promise—it’s fine. You should see the other guy,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Matt, I’m serious,” you said, your tone firm.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, wincing as he shifted his weight. “I was being stupid. Mike convinced me it was a good idea to go to Sarah’s party.”

Your chest tightened at his admission. You’d suspected that’s where he’d been, but hearing it still stung.

Matt caught the change in your expression. “It was a bright idea, huh?” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms.

“Look, princess, I’m really sorry I bailed. If I could take it back, I would,” he said earnestly, taking your hands in his

You glanced down, disappointment flickering across your face. When you looked back up, his blue eyes were searching yours.

“It’s fine. I’m over it,” you lied, pulling your hands away. “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

You walked to the bathroom, Matt following behind. He sat on the toilet seat while you gently cleaned his wounds.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” you asked softly.

He exhaled. “I don’t really know. One minute I was talking to Sarah with Mike, and the next, Sean and his guys showed up and started a fight.” He mentioned Sean, Sarah’s ex-boyfriend, with a slight wince.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

Matt noticed and nudged your arm lightly. “I deserve it, though. I shouldn’t have left you, princess. I’m sorry.” He took your hand in his, his voice sincere. “Can you forgive me?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t do it again.”

“Never,” he promised, smirking as he pulled you into a hug.

He lingered for a moment, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You know, you’re the only person I feel like I can come to,” he said softly.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Even after ditching me?”

“Especially after ditching you,” he said with a small laugh. “I messed up. I always seem to mess up... but you’re always here for me.”

You shook your head with a smile. “That’s because I care, Matt. Even when you’re being an idiot.”

He chuckled, leaning his head back against the wall. “I don’t deserve you, princess.”

“Probably not,” you teased lightly, making him laugh again.

The room fell into a quiet stillness, the tension from earlier fading away. For a moment, it was just the two of you there, like nothing else mattered.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you think it’s too late to start Return to Horror High?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “It’s never too late for a terrible horror movie.”

He smiled, standing up and offering you his hand. “Let’s do it, then.”

With that, you led him back to your room, your disappointment fading as you realized that, in the end, Matt always found his way back to you.

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