mattsturnioloshands - Tumblr blog

mattsturnioloshands · 4 months ago

Text

stoner!matt finally gives messy!reader a stick n poke that just so happens to become the most precious thing to her.

contains. needles, too much touching

for months you'd be asking for it, practically begging him to do just one — one tiny stick and poke. he'd done one for most of his friends, no questions asked because it was a good opportunity for him to practice.

but you. he refused.

“why not– why, just tell me why.” you annoyingly repeated, sat on the couch facing him, knees tucked up beneath you as you leant closer into his space. “i'm not… no, jus’ drop it, yeah?” he murmurs back, waving his hand dismissively in your direction.

you let out an exasperated sigh, slouching into the sofa as a moment of silence passes over the both of you — only filled with the sound of matts pencil moving across his paper.

you peer over at the messy page, looking like nothing more than a bunch of scribbles until you look closer. intricate drawings scattered in all directions, so good it almost felt like a waste that they were all over the place.

“these are… really good.” you mumble, hand resting on the back of the couch as you looked closer — completely invading his personal space like always. “thanks.” he murmurs back, frowning in concentration.

your eyes dart between his face and the paper, the words building in your throat with nowhere to go but out. “i love them.” you say, clearly trying your hardest to butter him up. “mhm.” he mumbles back, already knowing where you were going with this.

“they're almost like, i dunno… like my perfect idea of a tattoo.” he stops, pencil resting between his fingers as he gives you a viscous side eye. “design wise.” you add, letting out a soft sigh as you give no indication of stopping the flattery.

“m’not givin’ you one.” he says bluntly, only to roll his eyes at the way you pull away — dropping the act and sighing heavily. “please matt, please.” you huff, only to exert a small chuckle from him — amused by the way you were asking. “just– just tell me why, that’s all i ask.” you ramble, staring him down as you wait for his response.

“well, thats not all you're askin’ for…” he muses, raising his eyebrows a little as he speaks, only annoying you further with his light mocking. you groan, sitting up better to try and get him to listen and say yes.

“what.. can i do?” you breathe, keeping your words calm and kind in the hopes of weaseling your way in. he’s quick to shake his head, giving you a look which immediately turns into a deep sigh when you give him a more frightening one back, raising your eyebrows warningly.

“well.” he sits back, tapping his pencil against the page before meeting your serious gaze again. “i haven’t gotten head in a while.”

you’re quick to hit his arm, frowning in disgust at his crude joke that he seems to find rather amusing — letting out a chuckle while trying to dodge your hits.

“i’m serious matt.” you whine out, pathetically begging him to cooperate and listen to you for just five seconds. “i’ll do all your laundry— all the dishes and the uh, the…” your eyes scan the room for more chores to list, resorting to word vomiting forms of payments.

he’s amused by the suggestions, finding some sort of admiration in your determination, but it gets to a point where he can’t listen to your ramblings for any longer.

“alright.” he sighs, reluctant to agree as his head dips down. your face lights up, and you’re ready to jump around joyfully. that is until matt shoots you a glare, silently warning you not to push your luck.

from then on out, you’re quiet. politely following matt around the apartment as he grabs all the stuff — leading you to his bedroom for you to explain what you want.

“okay, so like. i was thinking bugs, y’know.” you begin, looking for an immediate response from him as he slips on some gloves, eyes meeting yours in confusion. “uh, yeah. i know… bugs.” he responds hesitantly.

“why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” you snap, the attitude drawing right out of you before you can even think. instead of backing down like usual, his brows furrow and he gives you a look. “keep talkin’ like that and you won’t have a godamn tattoo to ramble on about.”

your mouth opens before closing again, deciding to keep it to yourself as you watch him disinfect the needle — heavily focussed on the task at hand.

“just tell me what you want.” he murmurs softly, setting everything down neatly on the bedside table.

you think for a second, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you find yourself deep in thought. “what do you think about… a ladybug?” you ask quietly, hoping that the fact your answer was a question wouldn’t set him off again.

he thinks for a second, tongue darting into his cheek as he cleans off the needle. “yeah, i like that.” he nods, mind already spiralling with ideas and design choices, out of habit.

“uh, where’d you want it?” he asks, adjusting the stretchy glove on his hand as you look over your body — almost as if you were trying to find the perfect spot.

“well i was thinking… maybe um…” you think for a bit, too indecisive to settle on a place. “you pick.” you tell him.

his eyebrows raise in surprise, and he can’t help the small scoff that leaves his lips. “i can’t choose for you. it’s your tattoo, on your body.”

you hate his response, huffing like a child. “well, where would you advise me to put it?” you say, sneakily changing the question in the hopes he’d answer.

he shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “uh, wherever you want.” he responds, smiling with his tongue running over his teeth. you can’t help but groan at his unhelpful answer, only for him to shrug.

“okay, okay. i’ve got two options.” you begin, almost like you were pitching the ideas to him. “hip, or lower back. but like, off to the side, y’know?” he nods in understanding before an awkward silence settles over you — you thinking he’d pick for you, and him thinking you’d come to a conclusion.

“i’m not—”

“are you gonna— ugh. matt. seriously.” you groan out in annoyance, driving both him and yourself insane over this one little tattoo. “i’m not picking for you!” he chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender.

“please, two options, i like both. please, please, please put me out of my misery.” you beg, going as far as to hold your hands up together. “and yours for that matter.” you add, fluttering your eyelashes at him stupidly.

he lets out a deep breath, rubbing his temple. “fine.” he mutters, making no effort to hide the annoyance in his voice. “hip.” he tells you, watching your expression carefully — knowing all too well you’d pull a face if you didn’t like his answer.

but you don’t, smiling in agreement. “okay.” he nods a little, holding his hands out to show that the situation had been settled, and that there would be no more discussion of it.

“gotta lie down.” he tells you, pointing to the bed as you hop on, simply following any instruction he throws your way. “and uh, you trust me to just draw, right?” he clarifies, wanting to make sure he hadn’t gotten the wrong idea.

you nod, laid back on his bed as he fiddles with the blue pen in his hand. “draw a small ladybug, that’s like… me. vibe wise.” you explain. he smirks, nodding his head as he leans down to begin sketching it out on the small bit of paper.

“oh, vibe wise.” he murmurs, eyes locking in on the delicate drawing. “was gonna put your face on one.” he jokes sarcastically under his breath, earning a small sigh from you.

you wait, impatiently, head turning every ten seconds to watch what he was doing before he finally puts the pen down — smiling to himself before he holds it up for you to see.

“i love it.” you smile brightly, kicking your feet ever so slightly in excitement as he takes another look at it — examining it closely before moving over to you.

he stops for a second, pointing towards your top. “could you uh, yeah.” you fiddle around for a second before lifting the bottom up, revealing your hip. he’s careful and delicate in the way he places the small drawing down, making sure it’s good with you before dabbing a wet tissue over the paper.

“this all good, you like it there?” he asks, watching as you look down at the placement — blue ink staining your skin. “cause once i start, y’know…” he clicks his tongue, already opening up the pot of black ink.

“no no, i like it. it’s good there.” you mumble, getting a good look at it.

it starts off bad, your hand reaching out to grip his wrist as you hiss in pain — earning a small glare from him. “you’re gonna jog me.” he warns as calmly as he can, taking a deep breath.

you mumble out a small ‘sorry’, laying back as you try to relax and not think about the needle repeatedly poking into your skin — instead listening to the music still playing from the living room, hoping it would ease your mind.

but then he pulls at your skin, gripping it tight. it’s not painful, nor that shocking. but you can’t help but look down at the way his fingers sink into your hip, keeping the skin tight so he can make the lines neat.

it shouldn’t distract you, and it definitely shouldn’t be the sensation your mind focuses on — considering the pain of the needle. but it is.

it’s all you can think about.

the way he’s hovered over you, that undoubtedly sexy look of concentration on his face as he stares the spot down. the spot on your body.

the way he’s so focused, so into it. it rattles your brain for some reason, running your body hot and your palms sweaty.

how you feel so stuck, almost like he’s pushing you against the bed definitely shouldn’t be crossing your mind. but how can it not when he has such a steady, firm grip on you.

“relax, stop tensing.” he murmurs, brows knitted together as he keeps his gaze on what he’s doing — missing the way you snap out of your thoughts, wide eyes giving away the fact you had to process his words.

“oh, sorry.” you say quietly, trying your best to not tense up. his eyes fleet up to your face for a second. “m’not hurtin’ you, am i?” he asks sternly, watching you shake your head as you take a deep breath, almost as if you were trying to breathe away the thoughts from before.

“if it hurts, tell me, yeah?” he says, making sure everything was good judging by the distant expression on your face. “doesn’t hurt, i’m good.” you reassure quietly.

he nods a little, continuing as before as he finishes up the tattoo.

your body stills as his hand pulls away, leaving a cold mark that seemed to miss the heat of his touch. “i uh, i did some red.” he mumbles as you sit up to look down, taking in the new thing on your body. “thought it was quite, well, you.” he chuckles out almost nervously, something you never really saw from him.

“fuck, it’s perfect.” you whisper, loving everything about it. the way it was so you, and also so him, like a small blend of the two, permanently carved onto your body. “yeah?”

you hum, nodding your head before you reach out to give him a hug — thanking him sincerely before he began lecturing you on the importance of keeping it clean and dry.

but you truly did love everything about it, and whilst he may have drawn it for you, you saw more of him than anything in it.

𐔌 ©.STURNSRECORD

for my sweet pumpkin, @mattsstarlet

this is the exact tattoo i had in mind btw !!

250 notes · View notes

mattsturnioloshands · 4 months ago

Text

QUIET

⌇ matt sturniolo. smut, angst

you’re not sure if you like it or not, the way matt fades in and out of your life so easily — well, easy for him.

you spend the days when he’s not there thinking about him, mostly a version of him you wish you had. and when he was around, you tortured yourself for loving his presence so much — almost embarrassed by the unrequited nature of it.

that every touch was simply a fulfilment for him, but an agonising sense of affection for you.

it didn’t have to hurt, you didn’t have to do this.

yet you did.

maybe it was the small piece of him you got every time he was beneath your sheets — treating you like you were his. or the mere comfort of his presence that you’d stupidly grown to love.

maybe the pain you felt was all worth it just to have him the way you did, worshipping you just for a fleeting moment — coming to you when he really needed it.

or maybe you hated yourself, and didn’t care enough to truly give yourself what you deserved — too weak to let him go, too afraid to deal with the loss just for a lifetime of freedom.

although a part of you knew you’d always end up back here, yearning for just an ounce of attention or affection from him in a way that made you weak and vulnerable — because he knew you needed it.

and maybe it was fucked up of him, and even you, to persist with it. showing up whenever he wanted just to give you whatever he wanted. all because he knew you’d take it.

this was no different. hearing your apartment door unlock and open with the keys you’d so willingly handed over, the door gently shutting a second later.

it was stupid how your nerves ran with excitement, body already growing hot at the prospect of him being back.

your bedroom door creaks open, a faint shadow of him slipping in through your dreary eyes, moving past the bed where he took off his coat and all the rest.

and there you were, unable to calm the rush in your body as the mattress dipped and the heat of his body next to yours consumed you.

you turn in the bed, moving closer to him as his eyes peel open and his arm wraps around you. “did i wake you?” he asks quietly, arm resting beneath his pillow for his fingers to gently tangle into your hair.

“no.” you whisper back, unable to resist the way his touch made your head spin — like you felt incredibly grateful that you had been awake.

more often then not, you’d wake up to find him in your bed — contently asleep after sneaking in the night before, just to fuck you in the morning before you both went your seperate ways.

but this was better, your favourite. late nights together, even the early hours of the morning — the exact time where he’d decided to come see you, the time where he needed you most.

and oh did you love giving it to him.

he doesn’t say much, only slipping his hand further down your body until it finds its way to your underwear — feeling how wet you are like always, feeling the way he does so much to you.

it’s all so smooth and almost sensual, making you question if this really all was just sex. but then you’re reminded by your own thoughts, that matt was just good at this, and he knew how to make women feel good — not just you.

despite the thought, it added to his charm and the attraction you had towards him. like you didn’t even dare to beg the question of how many women he touched like this, because in the moment he made you feel like you were the only one. and for some reason, that was always enough.

the way he’d run his hands over your body, letting them rest where they needed to. teasing yet immediate as his fingers found your clit over your underwear — rubbing slow circles that made your mind spin.

he didn’t speak or dig for any kind of validation from you, earning enough from the way your body melted into his and your face turned into utter bliss.

he simply let it all happen, never failing to make you feel good in such an infuriatingly calm way — like he knew your body like the back of his hand.

he’d slide his fingers between your slick folds before sinking them into your heat, never cocky or obnoxious about the way you’d whine out his name — arching into his touch as his fingers curled up to graze your g-spot like it was nothing.

“f-fuck matt.” you moan, voice breathy and needy as he kisses down your neck — almost soothing your moans away as he gives you more.

but you can’t help but speak, curling your fingers into his hair as your hips rock against his hand. “feels good.” you whine. he simply hums against your skin, breath hot on your neck before his lips start working their way over your pulse — soft yet harsh in their existence.

how he’d find that spot that made your toes curl, sucking gently on your neck only to stop before it left a mark — refusing to leave any trace of what he was giving you. it was agonising, and made you want to beg for more, but instead he’d always find another spot — working his way between them almost tactfully.

clouding your mind with pleasure before you could even begin to question his ways, or more rather, if you were getting what you wanted. because he gave you a lot, focused on your pleasure, usually drawing out multiple orgasms before his dick was even involved.

it made you feel special, and even more, stopped every nagging thought that had you questioning the treatment you got from him. but then again, that seemed to be part of his act.

giving you everything he could just to avoid the things you needed.

he remained calm and almost concentrated with whatever it was he was doing to you, almost like it was an act of service. and if it weren’t for the way you’d feel his dick harden against your leg, you might’ve assumed he was nothing more than a selfless man, providing you with the skilled pleasure of his mouth and fingers.

only when he settles between your legs, sheets wrapped around your joint bodies as his cock slips into your heat — do you truly feel like he gives a part of himself to you.

there’s no act or avoidance of any vulnerablity as he grinds his hips closer and his dick deeper, letting out a strangled groan that is so unmistakably real and raw. the sound claws at you — keeping you awake at night whenever you’re missing him.

it’s something you can’t shake or ever get over, because it’s so him. the way his eyes shut and his head falls to your shoulder, shallow breaths brushing over your skin. the fact that you were doing that to him, it was an irreplaceable feeling.

you held onto every tight grasp he had on you when his dick pumped in and out, or every quiet gasp of a ‘fuck’ that hit your ear and spread throughout your body. it all stayed with you, reappearing in your dreams and lonely thoughts as both a blessing and a curse.

either way, you encouraged it. wrapping your legs around his hips to draw him closer — feeling the way his cock would slip further into you, filling you up with the feeling you craved from only him, all before he’d pull back.

you’d moan about how good it felt, making it clear how much you loved it. and whilst he listened to what you liked and always accommodated to the things that got you truly riled up — his hand would always find its way to your mouth. pressing over you lips to muffle your sounds as he held you close and rutted into you so perfectly.

so perfect, and so quiet — like it almost never happened.

𐔌 ©.STURNSRECORD

415 notes · View notes

mattsturnioloshands · 5 months ago

Text

ᥫ᭡. 𓍯𓂃𓏧 "𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅" | 𝑴.𝑺

༉‧₊˚. CUTS AND BRUISES BY INHALER — A WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #1

matt sturniolo! x f!reader

WARNINGS : smut, angst, pussy eating, raw, mentions of breakup, passionate sex

word count : 1.5k ♡

—The hotel room is quiet. Too quiet.

Just the soft hum of the air conditioner and the heavy thud of your heartbeat echoing in your chest.

You don’t speak when Matt closes the door behind him. Don’t even turn around. You just stare out the window, watching the rain smear against the glass like it’s trying to wash everything clean.

Like that’s even possible.

His voice is low, tired. “You’re really gonna leave, huh?”

You shut your eyes. His words shouldn’t hurt—not after all the arguing, the distance, the nights you spent curled on opposite sides of the bed. But fuck, they do.

“I don’t know what else to do, Matt.” Your voice cracks, just barely. “We keep hurting each other.”

Matt steps closer. You can feel him behind you—can feel the heat of his body, the weight of his stare. “Then hurt me,” he says, almost desperate. “Just—just don’t go. Not yet.”

You turn, finally looking at him—and god, he looks wrecked. Like he hasn’t slept in days. Eyes red-rimmed, jaw clenched like he’s holding himself together with sheer will.

Your throat tightens. “What are we even doing anymore?”

He doesn’t answer. He just surges forward and kisses you—hard. Like he’s trying to drown in you. Like if he kisses you deep enough, long enough, you’ll forget all the reasons you’re not working.

You kiss him back just as desperately. Fingertips digging into his hair, his jaw, trying to memorize the way his mouth moves over yours. How he tastes. How he feels.

His hands are everywhere—under your shirt, on your hips, tugging at the waistband of your jeans. “Let me have you,” he breathes against your mouth. “One more time.”

Your heart cracks a little more.

But you nod. Because of course you do. Because you’re both so fucking good at pretending. At holding on, even when there’s nothing left.

Matt doesn’t waste time. He backs you toward the bed, hands shaking as he pushes your jeans down, his lips dragging down your neck. “Fuck, I missed you,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “Missed this. Missed us.”

You bite back a sob as he sinks to his knees.

“Matt—”

“I know,” he whispers, pressing kisses to the inside of your thighs. “I know we’re fucked. But let me make you feel good, yeah? Let me do this right. Just once.”

You nod, and he pulls your underwear down slowly—almost reverently. Like he’s unwrapping something sacred.

He spreads your legs and buries his face between them like he’s starving. Like the only thing keeping him alive is your taste.

“Jesus, baby,” he groans, tongue dragging up your slit, sucking your clit into his mouth. “Pussy s' fuckin’ wet for me.”

You whimper, head tipping back as your thighs tremble around his head. “Matt…”

But he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. He licks into you like he’s trying to memorize it—every flick, every glide, every little gasp he can pull from your lips.

“God, I missed this,” he murmurs against your pussy, voice thick and wrecked. “You taste the same. Just like I fuckin’ remember.”

His breath is hot against your soaked skin, lips parting as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow stripe from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit, savoring every inch like he’s been dreaming about this.

Your hand curls into his hair, anchoring yourself to the way he moans against you, like your body alone is enough to undo him. His tongue circles your clit, lazy and deliberate, then flicks it with practiced precision, making your hips jerk up off the bed.

He groans again, gripping your thighs tighter, holding you open like you’re something sacred. He buries his face deeper, his nose nudging against your soaking pussy while his tongue works you over, slipping between your folds with messy, wet strokes, slow at first—tasting you, teasing you—then faster, more focused, when he feels you start to tremble.

“Fuck,” he pants, lips slick with you, chin shiny. “Missed how sweet you fuckin’ taste f' me.”

He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks—hard—just once, just enough to pull a strangled gasp from your throat before he backs off, tongue flicking gently now against your folds, easing the sting with softness.

You’re squirming beneath him, overwhelmed and strung out, and he fuckin’ loves it.

His fingers slide between your folds, two of them slipping inside with no resistance at all, curling just right to find that spot that makes your toes curl. He fucks them into you slowly, curling and pumping, his mouth never leaving your clit.

He moans again—moans—like he’s the one getting off, like the slick heat of your cunt is enough to make him come untouched.

“Been thinkin’ about this for weeks,” he mutters, dragging his tongue in slow circles. “Thinkin’ about how you fall apart on my fuckin’ mouth.”

He flattens his tongue and shakes his head side to side, fast, relentless pressure that sends sparks shooting up your spine. Your back arches, breath hitching as you cry out his name, and he just keeps going, like he’s determined to drown in you.

Every flick of his tongue, every drag of his fingers—it’s all perfectly timed, perfectly tuned to your body. He’s not rushing it. No—he’s worshipping you. Devouring you like he’s starving and you’re his last meal.

You’re still shaking when he pulls his mouth from you, lips shiny, the stubble on his chin soaked from your wetness, breath ragged like he’s been holding it the entire time.

And for a second—just a second—he pauses.

Eyes flick up to yours, dark and heavy with something that makes your chest ache. Like he’s memorizing you. Like he knows the moment he lets go, you might just disappear.

“Matt,” you whisper, barely able to breathe, voice already thick with emotion. You reach for him like you’re afraid he might not come back.

But he does.

He rises over you in one smooth motion, his body heat sinking into yours, the thick head of his cock brushing against your entrance.

He doesn’t tease, doesn’t waste a second. Just lines himself and pushes in—slow and deep, filling your dripping pussy in one long, shaking thrust.

Your breath catches, tears prickling at your lashes from how full it feels—how good. How right.

Matt groans low in your ear, forehead pressed to yours, hands fisting in the sheets on either side of your head like if he doesn’t hold on, he’ll fall apart.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice cracking. “You feel like heaven. You always fuckin’ did.”

He starts to move, slow at first, each thrust steady and deep, grinding his hips down so you feel every inch of him, dragging along every nerve inside of you.

It’s not fast. It’s not frenzied. It’s deliberate—like he’s carving the shape of himself into you one last time.

“Why’s it gotta be like this?” he murmurs, lips brushing your cheek as he thrusts into you, cock so deep it makes your stomach tighten, so deep you can feel him brush against your cervix with every passing second. “Why’s the only time we get it right… when we’re sayin’ goodbye?”

Your chest clenches. You can’t answer him. You don’t know how.

So you kiss him instead—messy, wet, teeth knocking—fingers digging into his back, trying to pull him deeper, closer. Trying to stay.

Matt fucks into you harder, but still not fast. Not rough. It’s aching, the kind of slow that burns.

His hips roll into you with purpose, the drag of his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over until your thighs are trembling around his waist.

“I’d give you everything,” he groans, lips brushing your jaw, your neck, your mouth. “My fuckin’ heart, my name, my future—just to keep you satisfied.”

You choke on a gasp, nails raking down his back. “You already have all of me, Matt.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m losin’ you?” His voice is hoarse, raw. He’s falling apart inside you, every thrust more desperate than the last, like he’s trying to leave pieces of himself behind in your body.

You clench around him, thighs shaking, pleasure building like a wave you can’t stop. “You’re not,” you whisper, breath catching. “Not yet.”

And that’s all it takes.

He lets out a sound—half-growl, half-moan—before his hand slips under your knee, hiking your leg higher around his waist, changing the angle just enough to fuck even deeper into you. His thick cock pushes against your cervix, pounding your pussy to the hilt, enough to make you see stars.

He fucks into you deeper now, harder, like he’s trying to chase down the edge of something he knows he’ll never catch.

“Come for me,” he pants, breath hot against your skin. “Come on, baby. Wanna feel you one more time—just like this. Just like we used to be.”

You fall apart around him with a cry, body trembling, clenching down on him so hard it pulls a broken fuck from his throat. He thrusts once, twice more, then buries himself deep and spills inside you, his whole body tensing, shaking with it.

It’s silent, the way he comes. His forehead pressed to yours. His eyes closed. His lips parted in a breathless gasp as his cock pulses inside you, filling you up, his come spilling out against your walls as his his hands grip your hips so tight it hurts.

It’s not just sex. It’s goodbye—and you both know it.

alexa play lover, you should've come over by jeff rn, posting everyday this week soooo !! also pls consider reblogging i hate to be that gorl but my fics have been flopping recently 💔

as always any & all inspo from this marathon is from the beautiful @delilahsturniolo <3

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

🖇 - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @v4lsturn @shitttttypoet @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pip4444chris @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @courta13 @divinesturn @aaliyahsturniolo @chris-hallelujah @mi-co-uk @ivysturnss @sweetpeabreezyree @christophersgf @bluestriips @angelic-sturniolos111 @shadowthesim237 @bee-43 @eeyoresturnz @ellssturn @fratbrochrisgf @teddystvrns @pvssychicken @ribbonlovergirl

1K notes · View notes

mattsturnioloshands · 5 months ago

Note

matt x reader where he gets a tattoo dedicated to reader, like an initial or something

BRANDED

★ matt gets a tattoo of you in a slutty spot, urging you find it on him.

SMUT: ☆ sub!matt I guess??? p in v,

You walk into the living room, throwing your body onto the couch like a ragdoll.

“'Sup darling?” Matt pouts, turning his head towards you.

You murmur some phoney excuse and crawl up to him, nuzzling your head into his big, tattooed arm.

“You have tattoos for all your brothers, your mom and dad, what about me?” you joke, pretending to be offended.

“Maybe I'll get one for you too.” he smiles, playing with your hair.

Nevertheless, weeks pass, you completely forget about this conversation. You're sat on Matts desk, reading through your emails.

Matt quietly comes in. He sits on his bed behind you and admires you.

“I have a suprise for you.” he blurts out, breaking the silence. “What is it?” you spin around in his chair excitedly.

“You'll have to find it.” he smirks.

You scoff, and quickly get to your feet. “Is it In this room?”

“Yes.” he answers.

You creep over to his shelf, and peer at it, hoping to see something out of the ordinary.

“Cold.” he chuckles

You turn around and go to the furthest corner of the room, and walk up to his closet. “Freezing.” he laughs,

You try near his bedside table, opening up the drawer.

“Still cold.”

Then the desk, “Chilly.” he tells you.

You're stumped. You just stand there In the middle of the bedroom. Until an idea sparks, him. It's on him. You immediately head for matt on the bed.

He grins, “Hot! Finally!”

Your eyes meet his, “So what's the suprise?”

He unbuckles his belt.

“Matt are you serious?” you say,

“No, no wait!” he chuckles, pulling down his pants and and folding over the waistband of his underwear.

He reveals something in ink. It's a spirally neat print, needled into his skin near his hip bone. It's your name.

Your eyes widen, in shock and pure delight. “No way..” you gasp,

Matt smiles up at you, proud of what he had done. “This is so hot.” you whine, leaning in close and pulling at the waistband of his underwear.

You pull them off. “Fuck Matt, such a slutty place to get my name.”

“Mhmm.. you like it.” he mutters,

“Fuck yeah.” you whisper in his ear, your lips trailing down to his neck, kissing and sucking on his soft skin.

Your legs wrap around his and you sit on his lap, pushing him down onto the bed. You keep glancing at the tattoo, how perfectly swirly the font was, how perfectly slutty the placement was, how perfectly gorgeous matt was looking.

He pulls down your lacy underwear mid kiss- needy and unable to resist you. You look into his bright blue eyes, “Let me ride you baby.” you whisper

“Yes, I need it.” he pleads, tugging at your hips to align them with his waist.

You buck against him, teasing him humping him bare before he can't take it and holds down your hips to push himself into you.

You moan quietly at the feeling of him sliding into you. Looking down to see his tattoo, situated above his dick next to his hip, a reminder of the fact you and him will be the only ones to see it.

You lazily rock yourself back and forth onto him, riding him gently. “Mmhm- feels g-g-good..” he stutters out, his breathing irregular and the room hot and sweaty.

The sounds of your skin colliding and moans from each of you are all that fill the room, with his loving eyes locked with yours.

You stroke his tattoo with your fingers, “Love that you're branded with my name now.” You say, in a low sultry tone, making him fold beneath you like your very own puppet.

A/N : okayy okayy I'm getting back into the hang of writing this was a vibe. It started out as fluff but I saw a smutty opportunity and jumped.

feel free to ask to be added to my taglist to be tagged every time I post a fic/blurb!

taglist!: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava @chrissweetheart @certifiedstarrr @slut4chris888 @courta13 @izzylovesmatt

131 notes · View notes

mattsturnioloshands · 5 months ago

Text

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

thanks.

1K notes · View notes

mattsturnioloshands · 5 months ago

Text

private mornings with fratboy!matt and confident!reader.

there's something about mornings with matt that leaves the feeling breathless. the way the sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a glow over his skin, it makes it impossible not to admire him.

your chest swells with warmth, and your heart tugs in that familiar—almost aching—way as your gaze drinks him in. he's lying beside you, shirtless, blankets bunched lazily around his waist, his messy hair falling over his half-lidded eyes.

his hand moves absentmindedly along your back, fingertips tracing lazy patterns as your own hand finds his face, your fingers brushing over the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft slope of his cheekbones. you explore him like you've never touched him before—even though it's obvious you're always touching him. your fingers ghost over his eyebrows next, the smooth curve of his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, and when you reach his lips, you pause.

you press your thumb to his bottom lip, just lightly—testing. he doesn't hesitate as he parts his lips, and you slowly slide your thumb between his lips. his tongue meets it, warm and soft, sucking on the digit languidly, his eyes locked on yours.

when his teeth graze your skin, it makes you grin, a soft laugh bubbling up in your chest as his lips close around your thumb one last time before he lets it slip free, the faintest trail of saliva connecting his mouth to your thumb.

"c'mere." he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep as a lazy grin tugs at his lips as his grip on your back tightens, pulling you close to straddle his waist.

you comply easily, sliding on top of him, the blankets falling off your body to reveal your naked skin. he lets out a quiet, content hum, rubbing his hands up and down your back soothingly as he rolls his hips up against you slightly, his half-hard cock pressing to your puffy cunt.

matts hand soon dips between your legs, thumbs parting your slick folds to reveal your glistening opening, his teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip as you take the initiative to guide one of matt's fingers inside your tight warmth.

he watches as his finger sinks deep into your cunt, adding a second to slowly pump in and out, curling them upwards to stroke your gummy walls as you lean down to press your lips to his.

matt moans softly into your mouth, his tongue gliding across your own as he moves his hand faster, thumbing at your clit. you rock your hips languidly, taking matt's fingers deeper into your sopping cunt, your juices squelching around him as your inner muscles flutter and ripple with each movement.

when you feel his cock grow harder beneath you, twitching against your thigh, you pull your lips away from his to catch your breath. you pull his fingers out yourself, ready to guide his cock to your opening until matt grips your hips and forces you up towards his face.

"what are you—" you cut yourself off with a giggle as you grab the headboard for support, glancing down at matt's face between your legs as he comfortably wraps his arms around your thighs, getting himself situated before you feel his tongue dart out to taste you.

your lips part with a gasp, eyelids fluttering and tilting your head back at the sensation that sparks up your spine. he lets out a soft chuckle, pressing his mouth firmer against you, lapping at your folds greedily.

you grind down on his face, feeling his nose rub against your throbbing clit as his tongue slides into your cunt, the vibrations of his moans adding to the pleasurable feeling growing in your tummy.

your moans grow louder and more desperate, bucking your hips, reaching one hand down to thread through his hair to keep him pressed against your as his own hands grasp the meaty skin of your thighs, holding you down onto him like a starved animal.

"i'm cumming," you warn him. "i'm cumming, i'm cumming—fuck!"

you gasp loudly, nails digging into his scalp as your body shudders above him, your juices soaking his chin as you cum heavily while matt continues to feast on your spasming cunt, prolonging your orgasm until you physically had to lift yourself up from him face to drop beside him.

matt laughs as you weakly punch his chest, and he captures you wrist in his grasp before leaning over you, claiming your lips with his, making you taste yourself on his tongue as he murmurs, "good mornin'."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

350 notes · View notes