𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓮 pinterest whore lipstick marks dead poets society tate mcrae chri$ gurl silver and gold washed out roses fall freak sunday mornings sam fender fifty shades of cunt (* >ω<)
hey....sorry for kinda ghosting you lot. I'm just gonna say this now.
I will probably never post another piece of writing on this platform again. It's sad, I know. But don't worry I'm not deactivating, I may like or reblog something here or there.
The truth is, I just don't enjoy being in the sturniolo fandom anymore. I will forever thank you lot for the endless support from my works. I used to love writing for the triplets, but their videos aren't engaging or motivating for me anymore. It's sad but true.
I will forever love all of the friends I made on here and all of the people who inspired me to write. <3
So yeah, Idk how to end this. Again, thank you thank you thank you for the support and love during!! I will never forget how excited I used to be over writing fics for my favourite people. I will see you, when I see you xoxo
hey....sorry for kinda ghosting you lot. I'm just gonna say this now.
I will probably never post another piece of writing on this platform again. It's sad, I know. But don't worry I'm not deactivating, I may like or reblog something here or there.
The truth is, I just don't enjoy being in the sturniolo fandom anymore. I will forever thank you lot for the endless support from my works. I used to love writing for the triplets, but their videos aren't engaging or motivating for me anymore. It's sad but true.
I will forever love all of the friends I made on here and all of the people who inspired me to write. <3
So yeah, Idk how to end this. Again, thank you thank you thank you for the support and love during!! I will never forget how excited I used to be over writing fics for my favourite people. I will see you, when I see you xoxo
╰┈➤ hollow!matt.. the quiet, nice guy who was drowing before he met shy!reader.
warnings: mentions of sex, intimacy
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. heard your voice for the first time when you asked for pencil.
“do you have a pencil i could borrow?” you asked softly. he blinked, a little startled that someone had actually chosen to sit next to him—to speak to him.
he didn’t look up, just slid the pencil across the desk, his fingers brushing the edge of your notebook. it wasn’t much, but something in his chest shifted—a quiet, almost-forgotten warmth.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. helps you when you’re lost.
“i’m sorry…do you know where chemistry class is?” you asked, voice shy and uncertain.
he’d seen how the others had laughed at you, and it stirred something protective in him.
he didn’t say much—just nodded and gestured for you to follow. you did.
and when you reached the door and thanked him with that small, genuine smile—he realized he’d never been thanked like that before.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. is surprised when you give him an apple.
you were sitting outside alone again, quietly eating lunch, when you felt someone sit beside you.
you turned—matt, silent as always. “here…” you said, handing him your spare apple. he stared for a second. “for me…?”
you nodded. he looked down at it, then at you, unsure what to do with the small kindness that suddenly felt enormous.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. lets you have the book you both wanted.
your fingers brushed over the spine at the same time. you looked up, ready to apologize, but stopped when you saw him.
he met your eyes briefly—just enough to say, it’s okay.
“keep it,” he murmured, stepping back.
you smiled shyly, tucking the book to your chest, and for the rest of the day he kept replaying that moment in his head—your smile, the warmth it left behind.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. enjoys just being near to you.
you read while he sat beside you on the grass, the afternoon quiet except for the sound of pages turning.
he didn’t say much—he didn’t need to.
for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel the weight pressing quite so hard. just being there, next to you, was enough.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. finally gathers the courage to ask you out.
his palms are clammy, his voice almost shaking. you’re both standing by the school gates, the wind tugging at your sleeves.
“i just…um…wanted to ask you..if you will go out with me?”
he can’t quite look at you—until you nod.
the relief that spreads across his face is soft, quiet, and real—like the first light after a long night.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. brings you pink tulips on your first date.
“um… i bought these for you,” he says, holding them out awkwardly, his fingers trembling a little.
you smile—shy but radiant—and take them carefully, like they’re something fragile.
“thank you,” you whisper. he nods, eyes soft, like he can’t believe you’re really standing there.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. asks you to be his girlfriend.
the night is cold, the stars faint and far away.
“i, um…i really like you,” he stammers. “and i’d like to be your…boyfriend.”
you’re surprised—but in the best way.
your smile grows slow and sure. “yeah, i’d like to be your girlfriend.”
“yeah?” he asks, hope flickering in his voice. “yeah,” you whisper, and his whole expression softens—like something inside him finally unclenched.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. becomes quietly obesessed with you.
he looks at you for a long moment, like he’s trying to remember every detail.
his voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, almost shy, like the words aren’t meant to be heard.
you smile, and that alone makes his heart stutter.
he leans in, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—slow, gentle, unhurried. you laugh softly, and he smiles against your skin, whispering again, “so, so pretty.”
and for once, he feels light—like everything heavy has finally let go.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. tells you he loves you for the first time.
it’s late, and the world feels still. you’re close—close enough to feel his breath. he looks at you for a long moment, eyes soft and uncertain.
“i love you,” he whispers, the words barely holding together.
you smile—small, warm, a little shaky—and lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. then another, and another, slow and gentle, like you’re trying to tell him you feel it too without words.
he closes his eyes, breathing in quietly, letting the moment wrap around him—fragile, real, and safe.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hollow!matt who.. loves being close to you.
the warmth of your skin, the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet way you fit against him.
“baby…” he moaned as his hips kept thrusting against yours. his hands had a firm grip on your waist as he kept going. you were whimpering softly.
he whispers your name like it’s something sacred, his voice low and trembling. he is holding you as if he’s afraid you might disappear.
to him, it isn’t about sex—it’s about being close enough to know you’re real.
The moment Matt had you under him, your wrists pinned above your head against the mattress, you knew you weren’t getting away with anything soft tonight. His weight pressed you down, keeping you still, his breath warm against your neck as his lips trailed slow, wet kisses over the sensitive skin.
“Sweet girl…” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that made your thighs tremble. “You always look so fuckin’ desperate when I touch you.” His hips rolled against yours, his cock hard through his sweats, rubbing right where you needed him.
You whined, arching, trying to chase the friction, but his hand tightened around your wrists, pinning them harder into the sheets. “Ah, ah,” he whispered against your ear, teeth grazing your skin, “don’t be greedy, baby. You take what I give you.”
Your protest melted into a moan when he rocked his hips forward, his cock already heavy and leaking against your thigh. He groaned at the contact, then lined himself up, pushing into you in one steady, devastating thrust. He pulled out slow, then slammed back in harder, the bed frame rattling under his rhythm.
You tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken whimper, your nails digging into the sheets above your pinned wrists. He watched your face closely, smirk tugging at his lips again when your mouth fell open.
“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting slow and deep, his voice husky against your ear. “Take it, sweet girl. Take all of me.”
His rhythm built, each snap of his hips harder, deeper, until the bedframe creaked against the wall. Your legs trembled around him, the drag of his cock too much, hitting too deep, stretching you wide open.
“You hear yourself?” he breathed, grinning when your moans spilled louder, needier. “So fuckin’ loud for me. Can’t even help it, can you?”
Your head fell back against the pillow, but his mouth was there instantly, hot and wet against your throat. He kissed, sucked, bit—leaving marks he knew you’d feel later. Every time you squirmed, his hand on your wrists pressed harder, keeping you still.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered darkly, his hips slamming into yours. “I’ve got you. Gonna fuck you until you can’t stand up straight.”
Your climax ripped through you hard, your body clenching around him, thighs shaking. Matt groaned at the tightness, his thrusts faltering before he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a sharp curse into your neck.
He stayed there for a long moment, chest heaving, lips brushing your ear. “You’re so fucked, baby,” he rasped. “You’re not walking normal for the rest of the night.”
You took a shuddering breath, still pinned beneath him, and then—unexpectedly—he pressed the softest kiss to your forehead. You blinked at him, startled by the sudden sweetness. Moments ago he had you writhing and begging, and now he was looking at you like you were breakable.
Matt finally let go of your wrists, his hand immediately smoothing over the skin he’d been holding down so tightly. “Did I hold you too hard?” he asked quietly, his voice stripped of that smug edge, replaced with something softer.
You shook your head, still catching your breath. “No… it’s okay. I—I liked it.”
He smirked just slightly at that, but didn’t push. Instead, he shifted off you carefully, dragging you into his chest. His big hands rubbed slow circles along your back, grounding you while your legs trembled against him. He murmured against your hair, “You did so good for me, sweet girl. Took me so well.”
For a while, you just laid there in the quiet, his lips brushing your temple, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your skin until your body finally stopped shaking.
Eventually, you both got up to get dressed. Matt tugged his sweatpants back on easily, but when you tried to stand, your knees nearly gave out. You grabbed the dresser for balance, muttering, “Oh my god…” under your breath.
Matt caught the sound, and when you turned, he was already grinning at you, eyes bright with mischief. “What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, voice low and teasing. “Can’t walk in a straight line?”
You shot him a look, pulling your underwear on with wobbly legs. “This is your fault.”
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you struggle with way too much satisfaction. “Yeah,” he said easily, that cocky smirk tugging at his mouth. “I know.”
When you finally managed to pull your top over your head, he walked over, steadying you with a hand on your hip. “C’mere,” he murmured, softer this time, brushing a kiss over your cheek. “You look too good stumbling around like that. Makes me wanna ruin you all over again.”
You swatted his chest, heat rising to your cheeks, but he only laughed, ego obviously boosted, proud of the way you could barely walk straight after what he’d just done.
E/N: this is my first story (credits to someone I forgot their user)
the gray afternoon light was fading, but you hadn’t bothered to turn on any lamps. the only illumination in the living room came from the tv, which was playing some show neither of you were watching. you were on the floor, kneeling between matt’s legs as he sat on the couch, your head in his lap.
his fingers were tangled in your hair, a gentle but firm grip, as you took him into your mouth. he tasted clean and musky, a taste that was just matt, and you hummed in contentment, the vibration running through him and making him groan. you loved this, the lazy intimacy of it, the complete control you had in these moments.
you picked up the pace, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm. his hips began to move, a slow, unconscious bucking motion against your mouth. his groans became louder, less restrained, filling the quiet space between you.
“fuck, baby,” he panted, his head falling back against the couch cushions. “just like that.”
you took him as deep as you could, your throat protesting slightly, and you felt his whole body tense. his grip on your hair tightened, and his hips stuttered, a clear sign that he was getting close. but you weren’t ready for it to be over yet. you wanted more.
you pulled back, leaving him slick and wanting. he let out a frustrated whine, his eyes snapping open. they were hazy with pleasure, his pupils blown wide.
“what’re you doin’?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“i want to be on top,” you said, your voice equally breathless.
a feral grin spread across his face. “oh fuck, yeah.”
he helped you up, his hands on your waist as you climbed onto the couch, straddling his lap. you kicked off your sweatpants, the cool air of the apartment a shock against your hot skin. his hands roamed your body, his palms warm against your back, your sides, your ass, as you settled onto him.
you guided him to your entrance, his blunt tip pressing against your wet folds. you lowered yourself down onto him slowly, excruciatingly slowly, a shared gasp leaving both your lips as you took him inside you. he was so thick, filling you so completely it was almost overwhelming. you both stayed still for a moment, just breathing, letting your bodies adjust to the feeling of being joined.
then, you started to move.
you started with a slow, lazy bounce, a gentle rocking of your hips that made the old couch springs groan in protest. his hands were on your hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin there, guiding your movements. his eyes were locked on yours, and you could see every flicker of pleasure, every hitch of his breath.
the pace quickened, your slow bounces turning into more energetic, deliberate thrusts. you rode him with a steady, confident rhythm, your head thrown back, your hair fanning out behind you. all you could hear was the wet, slapping sound of your bodies meeting, your own soft moans, and his low, ragged grunts.
“god, you feel s’ good,” he breathed, his head falling back against the cushions. “so fuckin’ tight.”
you leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest, your faces just inches apart. “you like this, baby?” you panted, your hips not slowing their relentless pace. “like seeing me on top?”
“love it,” he growled, his hands sliding from your hips up your stomach. “love watching you take what you want.”
the pleasure was building, a tight, coiling knot deep in your belly. you could feel the tell-tale signs of your orgasm approaching, your muscles clenching around him. he must have felt it too, because his expression shifted, becoming more intense, more focused.
his hand continued its journey upward, his palm sliding over your chest, up your neck. his fingers wrapped gently around your throat, his thumb finding the delicate, hollow space at the base. you froze for a second, your hips stuttering.
his eyes were locked on yours, a silent question. you gave a barely perceptible nod.
he squeezed.
it wasn’t hard, not painful. it was just… pressure. a firm, possessive pressure that made your vision swim and your breath catch in your lungs. a jolt of pure, unadulterated electricity shot straight from your throat to your core.
you let out a choked gasp, your hips picking up their frantic pace again. he squeezed again, a little harder this time, just as you felt the first wave of your orgasm begin to crest. the combination was too much. the world narrowed to two points of intense, overwhelming sensation: the feeling of him buried deep inside you, and the pressure of his thumb on your throat.
your orgasm ripped through you, a violent, screaming thing that made your body convulse uncontrollably. you cried out, the sound muffled by the pressure on your throat, as you were consumed by wave after wave of pure, shattering pleasure.
your release was all it took to push him over the edge. with a final, desperate thrust that buried him to the hilt, he roared, his own body going rigid as he poured his release into you.
you collapsed onto his chest, a boneless, trembling heap. his hand immediately loosened, his thumb now just stroking softly over your racing pulse. you were both panting, your bodies slick with sweat, the only sound in the room your ragged, synchronized breaths. he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your sweaty temple, his arms wrapped tightly around you.
yeah, they totally would just out of curiosity one night !!! bambi giggling while unwrapping the little foil heart and chris rolling his eyes like ❝you really believe this shit?❞ but he eats it anyway because she’s smiling. fifteen minutes later he’s on top of her, teasing that maybe there is something in those chocolates because he can’t keep his hands off. she’s breathless, laughing, and swears they’re magic, while he insists it’s just her.
౨ৎ neighbor!fwb!matt taking care of lovergirl!reader during her first time getting drunk
angst, drinking alcohol, being drunk and descriptions of it, taking pills, (pain medication) slight fluff at the end.
you’re curled up on your bed with a book balanced in your hands, half-tuned out of the world. the lamp on your nightstand glows soft, warm against the quiet of your room. it’s not until you glance out your window. habit, instinct, boredom, that you notice movement across the way.
matt’s window.
your houses were directly next to each other, you and matt’s room windows were so close, and on the same level. when you guys were kids, and even now, you would always open your window in the middle of the night, lean over the window sill slightly and call out for matt. you both would always have conversations in the night while you were supposed to be sleeping. you have this core memory of when you were 7 years old, of you and matt leaving your windows open, because you had a nightmare and wouldn’t go back to sleep. matt had to lull you to sleep that night because you wouldn’t close your eyes without the comfort of knowing he’s there.
his curtains are half-open, and you see him tugging a hoodie over his head, checking himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair like he actually cares how it looks.
without thinking, you lean toward the open pane of your own window. “matt,” you call softly, but he doesn’t hear. a little louder this time. “matt!”
his head jerks up, eyes darting to your window. he smirks faintly when he sees you, stepping closer until he’s framed in the glow of his lamp. “what are you doing?”
“reading,” you answer simply, resting your chin on your folded arms against the sill. “where are you going?”
“party.” he shrugs like it’s nothing, but you see the way his jaw ticks, like maybe he’s waiting for your reaction. matt had always been the popular kid in school, always going to parties, hanging out with friends, he had actual hobbies and plans. but you? you didn’t. you usually sit in your room all day, reading until you can’t anymore, blasting music in your ears and overthinking everything in the world, longing for what could’ve been. you were nothing like matt, but you looked up to him so much, ever since you were a little girl.
so maybe, just maybe, you could get out of your comfort zone for once in your life. you chew your lip and take a deep breath. “can i go?” he blinks. caught off guard. “you? at a party?” your nose scrunches. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it’s just—” he rubs the back of his neck. “you don’t really do parties.”
“so? maybe i want to try.” you’re already half-smiling, leaning further out your window. “please, matt? i’ll stay by you the whole time. i promise.” he hesitates, staring at you for a long beat like he’s weighing the idea. you pout, and that’s what does it. he sighs, mutters something under his breath, then finally says, “fine. get dressed. meet me outside in ten.”
your heart skips. you rush to your closet, digging out the dress you never wear, the one you bought on a whim but always said was “too much.” you curl your lashes, add a little lip gloss, swipe some color across your cheeks. by the time you’re clattering downstairs in your heels, your stomach’s a knot of nerves and excitement. you call out a hasty goodbye to your parents and step out the front door.
matt’s leaning against his car, hands in his hoodie pocket. when his eyes land on you, they widen slightly before he masks it with a scoff. “you look nice.”
“thanks,” you mumble, but you’re smiling as you slide into the passenger seat. by the time you guys arrive, the party is loud. music shakes the walls, colored lights strobe, people crowd every corner of the house. it hits you the second you walk in. this is not your kind of place.
but you stay close to matt, fingers gripping his sleeve as he threads through the crowd, greeting people with chin-nods and lazy grins. you’re overwhelmed, but you don’t want him to see it. so when someone hands you a drink, you take it. then another. and another.
about an hour later, the room feels like it’s spinning. your cheeks are hot, your head fuzzy, and your words come out slurred as you stumble against a hallway wall. “woah,” matt’s voice cuts through the noise, low and sharp. his hands steady you, gripping your waist with no hesitation whatsoever. “what the fuck are you doing?”
“having fun,” you giggle, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “you look so serious, matt! loosen up!” his jaw tightens. “you’re wasted.”
“nooo,” you drag the word out, tugging on his sleeve. “i’m fine.” he bends down, eyes level with yours. “listen to me. we’re leaving, okay? i’m not letting you stay here like this.”
“no,” you whine, shaking your head. “don’t wannaaaaaa!”
“i wasn’t asking.” his tone is firmer now, the kind that makes your stomach flip. when you try to twist away, he sighs in frustration and without warning lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. you squeal, pounding weakly at his back. “matt! put me down!”
“not happening.” he muscles through the crowd, ignoring your protests, carrying you straight to the car. he sets you in the passenger seat, buckles you in when your fingers fumble. “you’re so bossy,” you mumble, head lolling against the seat.
he starts the car. “and you’re drunk.”
“you look so—so handsomeeee,” you blurt suddenly, words slurring together. “always have.” his grip on the wheel falters for just a second. “stop—”
“you make me c…crazy,” you continue, eyes fluttering shut. “sooo—so crazy…” he doesn’t answer. the drive is quiet except for your sleepy murmurs, until he pulls into his driveway.
his house is dark, empty. nick, chris, and his parents aren’t home, which is a damn lucky thing. he carries you inside, arms steady despite your weight slumping against him. in his room, he sets you gently on the bed, tugging off your heels first, then unzipping your dress with careful hands. he averts his eyes even though he’s seen you multiple times before, as he slips one of his oversized shirts over your head, letting it fall loose around you.
he pulls out his phone, texting your mom that you’ll be staying over at his place tonight, he knew she would be disappointed if she saw you like this, especially under his care. you hum, reaching up to tug at his hoodie. “mattttttt,” you whisper, lips brushing his collarbone, trying to pull him in, pouting your lips. “need you,”
he stills, every muscle tense. “no, not like this.”
“please?” you try to kiss him, trying to tug his hoodie off, but he turns his head, cupping your cheek instead. “you’re drunk,” he says firmly, eyes locking with yours. “this isn’t happening tonight. you need to sleep.” you pout, but the fight’s already gone from your body. your stomach twists, and you groan softly.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, worried now. “hurts,” you mumble, pressing a hand to your stomach. he moves quickly, fetching water and pain medicine from his bathroom. he coaxes you to drink, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. within minutes, you’re curling into the sheets, eyelids heavy. “matt?” you murmur, half-asleep.
“yeah?” his voice is quiet, almost gentle.
“don’t leave me alone, please. stay.”
he exhales slowly, tucking the blanket around you. “i’ll be here.” you drift off, breathing steady, lips parted. matt sits at the edge of the bed for a long while, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the way you look so small in his shirt. he runs a hand down his face, conflicted, restless.
eventually, he slides under the covers beside you. not too close, but close enough that he can hear you breathe. and though he doesn’t admit it out loud, he doesn’t sleep until he’s sure you’re safe.
𝓦𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝓘𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 .ᐣ while relaxing with matt, his hand slips down to cup you . . . . and a lil more.
𓏲 𝓦𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 sexual content dirty talk eighteen plus
you came over thinking it’d just be a quiet night. takeout, maybe a movie. matt had other ideas. he was stretched out on the couch when you sat down, one arm draped lazily across the back. he let you talk for a while, let you settle in, sipping his drink like he wasn’t already planning something. you were halfway through your story about work when his hand dropped onto your thigh, heavy and warm.
“matt—” you blinked, startled, pausing mid-sentence.
“keep going,” he said casually, like nothing was out of place.
but then his palm slid higher, pressing right between your legs, cupping you over your leggings. your voice caught instantly, the rest of your sentence dissolving into a shaky breath.
“w-what are you doing?” you whispered, leaning closer to him but not pulling away.
“don’t stop talking,” he murmured, smirking as he ground his hand against you.
“i can’t,” you admitted, a whine slipping out as you shifted helplessly under the pressure of his palm. “you’re—fuck—you’re distracting me.”
his chuckle was low, satisfied. “that’s the point, sweetheart.”
before you could protest again, he hooked his fingers into your waistband and tugged your leggings down just enough to slip under. the cool air hit your skin for a second before he was cupping you bare, two fingers sliding inside without warning.
“oh my god,” you gasped, hand flying to his wrist, not to push him away but to ground yourself. “matt—please—”
“please what?” he rasped against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “you want me to stop?”
“no,” you admitted quickly, your voice breaking on the word. “don’t stop.”
“that’s my girl,” he muttered, curling his fingers deeper.
your hips bucked into his palm when his thumb found your clit, rough circles dragging moans out of you that filled the room, clashing with the muted sound of the movie still playing.
“so wet for me already,” he taunted, pressing harder. “gonna come in my hand, aren’t you?”
“y-yes—fuck, yes, i’m so close,” you whimpered, your thighs trembling, nails biting into his wrist.
he groaned, grinding his palm against you until the pleasure snapped, your cry muffled against his shoulder as you came hard, clenching around his fingers.
but he didn’t stop. his pace stayed brutal, his palm forcing every twitch out of you until you were shaking.
“i can’t—matt, i can’t—” you sobbed, squirming in his grip.
“yes, you can,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder. “give me more. let me have it.”
your body convulsed again, overstimulated tears slipping hot down your cheeks as you broke apart a second time in his hand.
when he finally pulled free, his fingers glistened in the TV’s glow. he licked them slowly, eyes locked on yours, and you panted helplessly under the weight of his gaze.
“see?” he said darkly, smirk tugging at his lips. “made to be held right here.”
𝓐 𝓟𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝓘𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓞𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 . . . . hi …. is this okay ….
do u think bunny has asked matt if he would love her if she was a worm
oh absolutely 😭 bunny has 100% asked matt if he’d still love her if she was a worm. and matt? he’d just stare at her all serious and go ❝bun, i’d build you the nicest little worm house in the garden and feed you every day. i’d still kiss your stupid worm face too.❞ like… he wouldn’t even laugh, just answer so matter of fact because of course he’d still love her.
would bunny accidentally call matt daddy during sex 😭
yes !!!!!!!!!!! bunny’s such a shy girly, it would totally slip out one night when she’s all fucked out and whiny. the second it leaves her mouth she’d freeze, face burning, hiding in her hands. matt though? he’d go still for half a second 😛 eyes dark, chest rising heavy—before groaning like it unlocked something feral in him. he’d tease her endlessly after, low whispers like ❝say it again, bun❞ until she’s a flustered mess.
HEADCANONS BETWEEN DAD!MATT && RICH!STEPMOM!READER
DAD!MATT WHO... wears glasses, used to hate them. but now wears them for reader because she loves them. she goes absolutely feral for them, especially in bed.
RICH!STEPMOM!READER WHO... attached to ka'veah immediately. loving her bubbly and chaotic personality at her small age.
DAD!MATT WHO... used to work when it was just him and ka'veah but reader convinced him to go back to office while she watches ka'veah. he does not trust anyone else around his daughter.
RICH!STEPMOM!READER WHO... cried happy tears when ka'veah called her mama instead of mimi. later that night she told all of her friends and her mother, she was very pleased
DAD!MATT WHO... when the first time hanging out with reader he was nervous and slightly distant. his last relationship leaving trust issues within him but reader assured him that she wouldn't do anything to hurt him.
RICH!STEPMOM!READER WHO... whenever matt is at work she takes ka'veah shopping, wanted to spend time with her step-daughter. and when matt comes home and sees all the bags she acts clueless. "huh? oh these? i don't know how they got here...must've appeared." and ka'veah nods along.
DAD!MATT WHO... asked reader to move in with him and ka'veah after a year of dating. and have been living together for a few months now.
RICH!STEPMOM!READER WHO... taught ka'veah how to read, as reader loves to read herself. ka'veah ran to her dad that next day to read a sentence to him, he cried.
DAD!MATT WHO... tells reader not to spoil him because he'll 'feel bad'. she does it anyway.
RICH!STEPMOM!READER WHO... learned how to cook from matt. because she's rich she would just eat out all the time. never got to experience an actual home-cooked meal until matt came along.
DAD!MATT WHO... plans to propose to reader soon, telling ka'veah his 'secret plan' though she almost spilled it twice, she's a great helper
RICH!STEPMOM!READER WHO... always picks out matt and ka'veah's outfits. as she has the best style in the house as she tells matt. "baby...no. that won't do. you just look...older than you already are." he frowns, she laughs.
a/n: headcanons while i work on the first two blurbs for them !! ☺️ but their so cute i love them
Cramps crash over you in waves, nausea teasing your throat until you can’t move. You lie in bed groaning, the Ibuprofen bottle half-open on your nightstand. You don’t want to bother Matt—he always teases you about your constant texts during his shifts at work. You just like keeping him updated. How else would he know about the two bunnies living by the garage, or that you made a smoothie and it didn’t end up splattering all over the counter?
But this can’t wait. You need something. You need him.
Your thumbs glide across the keys. What would you do if I said I’m bleeding out on the bathroom floor?
The answer is immediate. Don’t say shit like that. What’s up?
Cramps.
Matt knows he should know what to do. What to buy. He has a little sister, but that was so long ago, and he can’t remember if he was even around when she first got her period.
His last Google search reads, “girlfriend on period help.”
Now he stands in the humid, broken-down CVS that smells faintly of mildew, staring at shelves lined with pastel boxes. Light. Regular. Super. Pads, tampons, liners. He can’t ask anyone—so he grabs one of everything. By the time he gets to the register, his arms are full of tampons, a stuffed animal, chocolate, and enough snacks to last the week.
Back home, the cold tile cools the skin under your thighs. The bathroom always feels like a safe space when you’re sick, so you lie there—head resting against the rim of the tub, knees tucked to your chest—just waiting for the cramps to ease.
“Baby?” Matt’s voice is soft, followed by two knocks before he cracks the door open. “Why are you lying on the bathroom floor?”
You lift your head, ready to groan at him, but stop when you see him standing there with three boxes of tampons tucked under his arm. A giggle bubbles up before you can stop it.
“Why do you have so many tampons?”
His brows furrow, and he shrugs. “I didn’t know which ones you use.”
Before you can answer, he extends a hand. “Come on, baby. Up off the floor.”
You let him guide you back to the bedroom, groaning the whole way, but your heart swells at the sight of chocolate, stuffed animal, and snacks already waiting on the bedside table.
“I know I have a heating pad somewhere,” Matt mutters, pacing the room, checking drawers. The sheer effort of it all makes your throat tighten, and before you know it, your eyes are burning.
“Are you crying?” He turns immediately, concern etched all over his face. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek. “Why are you crying? Did you take anything to help?”
“It’s just really sweet,” you breathe, shaking your head.
Matt’s thumb brushes your tears away, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll always take care of you, you know that.”
“You don’t think I’m being dramatic?”
“I’d die if I had to have a period every month.” He gives a small smile before leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I can tell you don’t feel good, baby. My poor girl.”
“Your poor girl,” you repeat softly, pitiful—but comforted.
The heating pad hums low against your skin, soothing the edge of your cramps. Matt’s weight dips the mattress beside you, one hand tracing lazy circles on your back while the other holds a tampon box like it’s classified material.
“You know you can’t keep that shit in for too long, right? Toxic waste or something.” He sighs, setting the box down with all the seriousness of a bomb technician.
You bark a laugh, snorting. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Matt rolls to his side to face you. His arms reach for you, pulling you close, tucking your head under his chin. “Your back is so warm,” he mumbles. “Feeling better?”
“A little,” you murmur against his chest.
“I think I gotta just get you pregnant so your period stops for a while.” He smiles to himself.
“You are so obsessed with getting me pregnant.”
“Wanna make you a mommy.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You are so obsessed with me.”
“Of course I am.” His hands find your hips, still massaging gently through the cramps. “I’m in love with you, want to build a life with you.”
“Matt, please don’t start this shit when I’m on my period, because I’m going to sob.”
Matt laughs, his chest shaking under your cheek. “Okay, okay.”
His laugh fades as your body finally gives in to sleep. You’re tucked under him, basking in his warmth, his chest a steady rise and fall beneath your cheek. He pulls back just enough to watch you—lashes fanned against your skin, cheeks flushed from the heat. Leaning down, he kisses your forehead, then sets a timer on his watch for eight hours. No toxic waste.
[a/n: right so…i hate everything about this sooo im sorry dead ass]
