#{ matthew answers }

[your-average-n3rd]

ben’s askinf what wedding dress you wanna wear (…?)

ben no please i’m crying i will never wear a wedding dress 😭 you’re scaring me @i-ambarbie save me pretty please

[nat111love]

MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)

[irlplasticlamb]

now let the darkness set us free.

prints + merch + commission info pinned to profile :)

[veearrifarrariboom]

It was raining all day today and here we are.

No matter how free you are, you will never be free from your own body…

…but don’t let that stop you.

[cuteandhughesy]

auston matthews -

“you’re such a loser”.

“you’re so pretty it pains me” (said to him).

“keep still you little… troll”.

please & thank you. love your work. :)

Drunk In Love ╰┈➤ AM34

summary: your boyfriend has to pick you up from a bar—only to find that you’re sloshed and feeling playful. prompt no. 15: “you’re so pretty it pains me” + prompt no. 28: “keep still you little…troll.”

[word count] 2.1k

warnings: drinking | drunk behaviour | suggestive dialogue

a/n: how is this my first auston work…this man was the reason I started watching hockey in 2016! i’m back to my roots with this one! also this ain’t super detailed because I don’t have the brain capacity for that 😛

🎵 drunk in love by beyoncé & jay-z

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

auston is immediately bombarded when he steps into the club. not only by the overwhelming smell of hard liquor and various sweet floral perfumes, but by jennifer—your red head bubbly best friend who's celebrating her 27th birthday.

he blinks in surprise as jennifer steps in front of him, freckles still visible even under the flashing lights. "i'm sorry," she hisses, looking over her shoulder at what auston can only presume is you, "but she's sloshed." and that confirms his suspicions.

about 20 minutes ago, he answered jennifer's call. he was expecting the worse—you've always been a naturally clumsy person when drinking, and anytime you go out partying with your friends, you're coming home with more scrapes and bruises than you can count. all jennifer really told auston was that you needed a ride home asap, being very vague about the entire situation.

auston put two and two together pretty quickly.

"it's alright," he says, eyes squinting through the dark atmosphere in search of you and the sparkly red top you left the condo in. you're easy to spot, only because you're standing on top of the bar like you're in some cheesy rom com movie, laughing loudly and dancing while everyone cheers you on.

jennifer smiles awkwardly, green eyes darting between you and your less than amused looking boyfriend. auston curses, moving through the sea of bodies until he's at the crowded bar. he gently wraps his hand around you thigh, not hard, but still firm enough to grab your attention.

you look down, and immediately you're beaming at the sight of him. "austonnnnnn," you slur his name loudly, reaching down to steady yourself on his shoulders as he helps you off the table top. as soon as your heels are back on soild ground, you're jumping into auston’s arms—not without almost missing him and falling to the floor if it wasn't for auston's reflexes.

"woah, slow down," he warns lightly, large hands a warm and steady presence on your hips as he steadies you. "hi baby." auston grins slightly, eyes barley visible under the rim of his ball cap. a hiding feature he chose on purpose—auston wasn't really in the mood to wake up tomorrow morning and read a bunch of news tabloids about him picking up his hammered girlfriend at a local toronto club.

"hi." you grin, blinking slowly. auston can feel your heat through hour top-your skin hot to the touch, the affect off one too many shots. the hair you'd previously slicked back into a pony tail is now frizzy and down—eyes glassy and not all there.

auston snickers, already moving you away from the table and back to the direction of the entrance. "are you drunk?" he teases knowingly.

"pssshhh...no!" you decline loudly, shaking your head—but the way you misstep tells a whole different story. you don't even notice that though, too busy looking at your boyfriend with an imaginary lightbulb flickering above your head, "have you come to take a shot with me?" you ask, your excitement obvious.

auston hums, "no, i'm here to bring you home."

"but im not ready to go home," you pout.

"I know, but you can come out next weekend."

his words seem to do the trick, because your face relaxes and your lips form into a lazy grin. "oh yeah," you say matter of factly like it was you who came up with the idea.

"do you have your bag?" auston asks before the both of you can step outside, "where's your phone?"

your small chain bag is slung over your shoulder—which, thank god, because auston did not want to have to search for it in the women's bathroom or under the sticky tables. "my phones under my boob," you say.

he reaches out, fingers sliding under your boob to make sure it is in fact in your top.

it makes you giggle, arching into his touch, completely oblivious. "trying to cop a feel?," you slur, way too loudly for a public space. "you freak."

auston can't help the breathy laugh that leaves him, pulling off your body once he has confirmation that your phone is sitting between your ribs and left boob. "just making sure you've got everything," he corrects your insinuation lightly, wrapping his hand back around your hips. "okay, let's go."

the cold air is a shock after spending time inside the overpacked and overheated club. you instinctively curl into his side, seeking some warmth—no matter how drunk you are, you'll always find a way to get chilled.

as soon as his car is in your line of sight, you gasp, mumbling something incoherent before attempting to run towards the vehicle. you obviously don't get far, not with auston's arm holding you upright, but that doesn't stop you from stumbling on uneven sidewalk—almost sending you to your knees.

it has you giggling but also somehow gasping dramatically all at the same time.

"careful." auston chimes firmly, digging in his back pocket for his keys to unlock the car.

"woah that was scary," you snort, looking up at him with those glassed over eyes he loves. "did you almost trip too?" you ask, dead serious.

auston opens the passenger door, "almost."

"that wouldn't of been good," you slur.

"no, it wouldn't of been." he agrees easily, guiding you into the vehicle, "okay, left foot first babe."

but you're not going that easily. you turn to your boyfriend again, face flashing in fucking betrayal like he just asked you to root for the bruins. "you haven't even kissed me yet," you whine, feet planted on the concrete while your butt connects with the car seat.

he sighs, "let's get in the car first."

"please?" you slur, leaning forward dangerously. auston grips your biceps before you can face plant to the ground, but you're completely oblivious, continuing to beg in a mixture of babbling and slurring, "you're so pretty it pains me! and I need a kiss to make me feel better."

auston takes a deep breath, staring down at you for a beat—seeing if you'll give up. but you don't, continuing to look up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, lips slightly pouted and stained as you wait rather patiently. he sighs again before leaning down and giving you a quick peck.

you beam when be pulls away, bringing your left foot into the car. "you love me," you hum dreamily.

"yeah I do," auston smiles, guiding your right leg inside the car before he leans over your body, clicking the seat belt into place.

you kiss the side of his face sloppily as he makes sure you're buckled, "I love you too."

the 15 minute drive back to your and auston's shared condo is filled with the sound of your voice, singing along to random radio songs in an impromptu karaoke session. anytime you look over at auston and see that he's not singing, you squawk loudly, poking his cheek persistently until he joins in.

thankfully you don't give him too much trouble getting back out of the car, or on the elevator ride up to your floor—the most you do is stumble and talk too loudly, but auston finds it rather funny. you resemble a baby deer, and when he tells you that, you start tearing up about how cute baby animals are.

felix, your shared dog, eyes you both grumpily from his spot on the couch as you pass, clearly upset at be woken up.

auston guides you into the bedroom, helping you kick your heels off while you continue crying, now specifically praising baby horses and their tiny little horse shoes.

he grabs your oversized pyjama shirt, which is actually one of his old men's league shirts that you'd stolen years ago when you first met. auston turns back to you, placing the shirt beside you on the bed. "okay," he starts, "arms up baby."

"why?"

"because you need to get changed," auston says.

you whine, muttering something about feeling tired. regardless you lift your arms, limbs all floppy and heavy as auston attempts taking your sparkly top off.

you wiggle and squirm, laughing as auston's calloused fingers graze against the side of your ribs. your movement makes him sigh, teetering on impatient. "stay still you little...troll."

that gets you to stop moving. "hey! that's mean." you pout incredulously.

"it's not," auston answers easily, pulling your shirt fully off. now free, your phone falls to your lap with a plop. "trolls are cute"

you arms drop to your sides quickly, "no they're not."

"shhh," he teases, pulling off your skirt and tights in one quick and efficient move. "you'll hurt their feelings."

"my boobs are out," you say after a beat.

auston snickers, pushing your head through the stretched neck hole of his old shirt. yeah, they are," he hums, moving to your arm and bending it at the elbow, “hey, put your arms through the holes."

"nooooo," you whine, falling forward to auston’s chest and wrapping your sticky arms loosely around his neck. "I wanna give you a kiss." you mumble, already in the middle of covering his scruff covered jawline in tequila scented kisses. one of your hands sneaks down his body, and before he can even blink, your grabbing his dick.

"jesus baby," his breathe hitches, pulling your hand off his length and putting it back in your lap.

you giggle, "you like that?"

auston shakes his head, putting your arms through the shirt holes before you can grab his dick again. "not tonight, you need to go to sleep."

your face falls. "you don't want me?"

"not when you're drunk."

you scoff, tears pricking your waterline as auston fully pulls the shirt down over your naked body. "you hate me." you state dramatically, arms crossing over your chest.

"not at all," he reassures you softly.

"but you don't want me."

"you're drunk." auston reiterates, which only makes you hum. he can't help the smile that pulls on his face, shaking his head in disbelief at your slurred words and usual drunk shenanigans. "okay baby, let's get you in bed."

the next two minutes are silent as your boyfriend helps you slip under the covers. you sigh happily as the cool sheets envelop around your limbs, head sinking into the fluffy pillow like you're lying on a cloud. auston leaves your lamp on, putting your phone on the beside table—making sure it's plugged in for the morning—before he turns to leave.

but just as his hand touches the door knob, you're whining. "austonnnnnn."

"yes?" he asks, brow quirked.

you make grabby hands at him like a toddler. "come lay with me."

"i'm going to," auston says, "I just gotta take felix out first."

the mention of your dog has you sitting straight up, once again wide awake. auston can't help the way he sighs, falling back against your bedroom door in what feels like defeat.

"can I come?" you ask him, voice full of hope and joy at the thought of running your hands through felix's soft and curly coat. you’ve never wanted to cuddle him more than this very moment.

auston shakes his head gently, "no."

"whyyy?" you whine, lips pouting for the hundredth time tonight. "I love him so much." you admit, voice thickening with emotion as you blink at your boyfriend through the warmly lit bedroom.

he walks back towards you, softly pushing your hair off your face. "I know you do," auston mumbles, thumb stroking your brow bone. "but you're not wearing pants and it's cold outside."

you frown deepens, a single shiny tear falling from your eye and tracing down the round of your cheek. "but," you pause, sniffling gently, "felix will think I don't love him if I don't come."

auston shakes his head, "that's not true." but you only cry more, shrinking in on yourself as sobs wrack through your body. auston coos, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead and then another to your cheek.

even drunk, you don't play about your love for felix.

"how about when I get back I bring him in here for the night?" auston proposes sweetly.

your head lifts, and the sight of your watery eyes have auston pouting. "really?"

"yeah."

and he fully intends on keeping his promise, but 30 minutes later—once the dog has done his business and trotted around the condos front grass—auston opens the bedroom door, only to find you sound asleep.

[lilolebambi]

puppy!chris humping readers leg please!

and he's all begging for her attention

"Mama.. please, m'sorry..." He pleads muffled, kissing at your leg as he straddles your foot.

You pay him no attention, humming as you scroll through your phone. He whimpers, glancing up at you with teary eyes. He knows he wasn't good, knows he was being a brat in front of your friends, but are you seriously not gonna talk to him? Not gonna degrade him and tell him how much of a bad puppy he was being?

A soft sound falls from his lips as he notices the wet spot on his sweats, god, he needs you so bad. He bites his lip, embarrassingly wrapping his arms around your leg and rocking forward. He whines.

He feels so pathetic, but it feels so good. He can't help it. Soft tears fall from his eyes as he humps your leg, "M'sorry for a being a bad puppy," He hiccups, whining when he looks up to you still on your phone, "S-so— ahh— sorry, mama."

His dick twitches in his sweats. He's so close to letting go, so close to making a big mess and cumming in the most embarrassing way he ever has, but needs you. Needs something, anything from you. "P-please," He begs, choking on a sob as tears stream down his face. "D-do somethin—" He sniffles, you finally put your phone down.

You take his face roughly, squishing his cheeks. "Learn your lesson about being a naughty puppy?" You coo in faux sympathy. He nods into your palm immediately, and you laugh. "I thought you'd like it.." You take in how pathetic he looks, "Humping me like a real doggy."

He moans loudly in response, and you can't help the smirk that finds it way onto your face. "See? You like it, humping my leg like a pathetic bitch." You feel his hips stutter, he flushes red. "You're pathetic, Chris." You say, in that sweet, innocent tone that gets him every time. "N—needed— your— f-fuh...fuck!"

You smile down at him, finally releasing his face. "Needed my attention. I know, puppy, I know." You coo, tilting his head up, "Now are you good be a good puppy and cum for mama or, do you need another punishment?" He shakes his head vigorously, too dumb to even attempt to argue. "Nooo— m' gonna cum— m' gonna be a g-good puppy—" He babbles on, rutting against your leg, "I— I— mama! M' cummin' ohmy— Fuck—!"

You smile, watching him fall limp against your leg as his orgasm hits him like a train. You lean down and kiss his head. "Good doggy."

[sturnsmadl]

christmas dad!matt headcannons!

warnings!- light angst, suggestion of sex, mostly fluff, pregnancy mention, no actual smut, cute dad matt.

divider by @canon-in-too-deep !!

a/n at the bottom :)

dad!matt who just stares at you as you wrap the presents.

"what are you staring at?"

"can i help?"

dad!matt who doesn't even know what she's getting.

"when did we get her this?"

"i got it when you were at work."

"oh."

dad!matt who sets up the santa trap.

"ill just put flour on the floor and step in it in my boots."

"good idea..what about the whole cookies and milk thing?"

"i ate them cookies a while ago..."

dad!matt who buys her expensive stuff.

"matt. she doesnt need an a hundred dollar stuffed bear."

"but its cute..like her..no?"

"just wrap it."

dad!matt who is more excited then anyone.

"are you awake?"

"i am now."

"i cant sleep..im too excited.."

"matt. its 2am...shut your fucking eyes."

"damn."

dad!matt who gets up really early just to bother you.

"hey baby!"

"hi. why are you up so early?"

"idk..quickie?"

"fuck off matt."

"im kidding! unless you wanna?"

dad!matt who end up dragging you out of bed himself.

"get uppp! we wanna open presents!"

"oh my- 5 more minutes matt!"

"no! now mommy!"

"exactly. you tell her baby."

dad!matt who makes sure he gets you something valuable every year.

"matt..? this is so expensive.."

"so? you deserve it. come 'ere."

dad!matt who records most the presents your daughter opens.

"what is it baby?"

"ipad!"

"oo! show the camera sweetheart."

dad!matt who finds out you're pregnant through his gift.

"wait..no- you're lying.."

"nope...what'd you think?"

"oh fuck- this is the best present ever.."

dad!matt who gets tired quickly.

"can you guys just shutup?!"

"matt nobodys speaking."

dad!matt who feels better after a nap.

"sorry...i was just tired.."

"i know."

a/n - i really wanna make a boy next door part 2 but i have 0 ideas so idek but i want it out for christmas kinda idk!

taglist! @bellaonthelow @hopelessfawn @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @xoxo4chrisss @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @mattstrombolii @stvrlighht @asherrisrandom @amelia-sturniolo3 @pvssychicken @owensbabygirl @ncm9696 @sturniolo-fann @watchu-mean-baby-keem @babyalliah-777 @imtheprett @coochiedestroyer1 @scarlettbitches @slutniolo @idkwhatthisis2009 @anabanabanana @chriscorqutte @slvttie-zx @hi-7-hi @sophand4n4

[ghastlylover]

!!!OATHBOUND SPOILERS BELOW!!

What’s actually genuinely making me explode about Oathbound is how it’s made so fucking clear and explicit just how LOVED everyone is

How Natasia talks about Selwyn after thirteen years as she fights so hard to help him bc he’s her baby and she loves him

Even as he’s mocking and taunting and insulting them, all Bree and Nick do is reassure Sel that he’s not a failure or mistake bc even now even when Bree doesn’t remember him they LOVE him

When William learns about Nicks abuse and vows to be there for him and to never let him think that he isn’t believed in ever again bc he Loves him

When William neglects HIMSELF and Lark insists on going on the quest just to make sure he’s taken care of and protected bc william protects everyone but lark just wants him to be safe bc he Loves Him!!

All the years and decades of love between Valec and Mariah and Hazel and Lu bc they’re a family and have each other no matter what

And Everyone loves Bree!!!so much!!

Mariah, William, Lu and Hazel, Nick… all of them fought to get back to her because of how much they love her!!!

Sel being at the height of his demonia and still clawing and burning himself free to get back to her bc even when it’s warped under all the rage and darkness, he always loves her

Nick’s every word and act and breath being filled with love and affection and trust and call and response for Bree bc he will always find her and fight for her and always always always love her!!

Bree collapsing in her dads arms and sobbing after nearly a year without seeing

Bree fighting like absolute fucking hell to find four lost, scared black girls because that’s exactly who she is

Valec’s monologue near the end and everyone she cares about in one room talking about how beautiful Bree’s soul is because of how much SHE loves 🥺🥺

Like???? Love is the point babes, it was the whole point the entire fucking time

[super-man-curtis]

Whose your favorite out of the gang

[bennetsbonnet]

In that post about Joe Wright avoiding bonnets in p&p 2005 for being “too clichéd” (wtf), you said “and the disdain he clearly has for said author which manifests in various ways”. Could you elaborate on that? (asking only out of interest, not disagreement)

Absolutely (the post anon refers to) it's always a pleasure! Though I will say before starting, I'm not bashing 2005 for the sake of it and no one is "wrong" for enjoying it. For me, it's not about fan wars/arguing about which adaptation is best... I just really care about Pride and Prejudice as a novel and I get frustrated when the beautiful, timeless story is distorted!

My main problem with the 2005 adaptation is how much it misrepresents the characters and changes the speech from the snappy, witty dialogue that Jane Austen wrote into something entirely different. Not only do I believe that it does not need updating for C21st audiences (though it might sound a little strange to the modern ear at first,you quickly get used to it) but that dialogue is what really stood out to me and charmed me when I first read it and I don't care for it being rewritten into either something that is either worse than what is found in the novel, or entirely changes the characterisation.

The one that particularly irks me is Darcy's 'bewitched me body and soul' dialogue as, to me, book!Darcy's confession to Elizabeth of when he fell in love with her:

'I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.'

is so beautiful and romantic. Why change that? Additionally, this man is not awkward, he can make romantic speeches, he doesn't need to trip over telling her he loves her. And I've previously discussed here why I think Darcy saying he is bewitched by Elizabeth is out of character.

There are many such cases in the film, but that is amongst the worst to me, perhaps only alongside Darcy's first proposal and how much Lady Catherine's visit and confrontation was watered down (and why did it take place in the middle of the night???).

I suppose he didn't write the script so perhaps I cannot blame him entirely for that... but it goes beyond dialogue, to how the actors were directed and the contempt shown for the period it was set in, which is bizarre when making a period drama.

I think it's quite apparent that JW desperately wanted to make Pride and Prejudice into a Brontësque romance with sweeping landscapes and dramatic weather. I suppose you can argue he did that successfully, but it came entirely at the expense of it being the story that Jane Austen wrote. There are lighthearted, humorous moments too but very few of them feature dialogue actually written by Austen ('what excellent boiled potatoes' springs to mind).

He misunderstood and consequently misrepresented Elizabeth and Darcy's dynamic to the point that they are hardly recognisable to the characters Jane Austen created. 2005!Darcy is so painfully shy and pathetic, that when contrasted with such an impertinent and sarcastic Elizabeth, it just seems like she's bullying a smol bean who struggles in social situations. You cannot emphasise Elizabeth's sassiness while making Darcy such a pathetic specimen, it just doesn't work. She isn't the witty, charming character from the novel anymore.

The period inaccuracy is absolutely baffling in ways beyond costumes, beyond the lack of bonnets and that one scene where one of the sisters is having her corset tied so tightly. For me, the worst offences are:

The bleachers at the Meryton assembly. Not only wildly historically inaccurate but makes Elizabeth look like a gossip and an eavesdropper, rather than an innocent party insulted by a rich snob.

The pig running through Longbourn and generally everything about Longbourn itself. The Bennets are not on the same level of wealth as Darcy and Bingley but they are not some poor farmers, with a scruffy house. Elizabeth is very much of the same class as Darcy.

Chatsworth is absolutely, definitively NOT Pemberley. It is explicitly mentioned in the text as featuring in their tour of the Peaks so consequently it CANNOT be Pemberley. It's far too grand an estate for an untitled gentleman. Darcy is rich but Chatsworth is another level.

I care about this because the landscaping is not at all correct as it's very artificial, whereas Pemberley is renowned for its natural beauty. It might not seem like much but it really is a huge part of why Elizabeth fell for him!

Another reason Chatsworth shouldn't have been used is because Elizabeth seeing a portrait of Darcy and looking into his eyes rather than a bust with holes is crucial, as I explained here.

This is all disappointing but I do feel like I could get over it if the characterisation was adequate. Unfortunately, I barely recognise any of them.

Mr Bennet is not a cute fatherly figure. Him not accompanying them to the Meryton assembly is a plot point to underscore his bone idleness. Yes, his relationship with Elizabeth is very sweet and he loves her a lot... but that does not a good father make!

The total character assassination of Mr Bingley... who is not a clueless himbo. As if Jane Bennet would ever fall for a man like that, or Jane Austen would ever write a character like that (except to be the object of ridiculue).

I do not know in what universe Charlotte Lucas, the pragmatic voice of reason would say 'we are all fools in love.' And the 'I'm 27 years old' monologue is just not something I can ever picture her saying... she wasn't a frightened, timid little creature whatsoever.

Wickham isn't bad enough. What he did to Georgiana is blink and you'll miss it, and when he returns with Lydia, Elizabeth glares at him a bit and that's it? The elopement is also resolved very quickly, there is no real tension with it.

The key story beats are butchered too. Especially the letter, not just in how short it is but in the way Darcy hands it to Elizabeth. I think I remember reading something about how JW couldn't imagine how Darcy would be in the room with her, so he just made it like a dream sequence... aka he put his own creative desires over what's in the novel, when Darcy seeking Elizabeth out to hand it to her is very important. Not least, because it shows the length he's prepared to go to in order to set the record straight as it was breaking social convention for a man to write a letter like that to a woman he wasn't related to or engaged to.

That quote, among others, just shows he had a desire to do things differently and it seems to be because he thinks he can do it 'better.' It's bizarre because why bother adapting a classic which is anchored to its time when you blatantly have disdain for it? It's like doing a war film without army uniforms and guns.

Everything I've read from him, he just seems like a smug film bro that believes that he got it 'right' and people had been Missing The Point the entire until he came along. No, you weren't onto anything new. There are certain things, like bonnets, that tend to be in period dramas. And Jane Austen is very literal with her meanings, for the most part. There isn't a new way to interpret her works.

For a film entitled Pride and Prejudice there isn't a great deal of pride or prejudice... it's really just a poor shy boi, who stands there and fidgets with his gloves while not saying anything, and his girlboss, who uses towels that have been getting wet on the line outside to dry herself after coming in from a rainstorm.

[aristhought]

it's just been unreal

[celcoloration]

Your versions of the dough children are so cute!!🥹 Also love the different unique patterns each of them have!

Have any of them had to deal with the cold since being split? Or others attempting to separate them?

…They’ve had a few close calls with nearly getting frozen, thankfully they’re usually with each other just in case.

Though Jack has a tendency to wonder off- 😅

And those who have tried to separate the three of them are certainly not alive anymore, trust me, if Kevin doesn’t kill them, Matt will certainly get the job done. Jack however, would likely rather hide or will just bite them until they let him or the others go.

(Jack is red, Kevin orange, and Matt yellow)

[ak319]

Lovesick A.M x f!reader

--★ Rose Hats and Rough Hearts I She wanted Sundays

AN: No, it's not the second part, darlings, but rather an ask based on RHRH oneshot (Reader leaves the camp and Hosea goes to bring her back + lovesick Arthur's reaction) . So enjoyyy! Syno: You've had enough and decide to just...leave. Warnings/MDNI: Age gap (you are in early 20s and Arthur is 30-31), pining, angst, fluff! tag list: @necktattooed @nayykura

┆ ⤿ ❀ m.list + Rose Hats and Rough Hearts ❀

So was that a joke?

You’d rushed through every damn chore like a fool, every errand checked off, every useless task finished, all because he said he’d take you out of camp. And you’d agreed, of course you had. What was there to say no to? Like anyone ever took your no seriously anyway.

You figured you'd at least try to enjoy it. Try to pretend this life wasn’t a cage. Try to smile, and hell, you did smile, just a little, getting ready with a stupid kind of hope rising in your chest.

And then what do you see?

Him.

Walking off.

With shame.

An apologetic look in his eyes and a damn paper in his hand handed to him by Mr. Strauss, of all people.

Of course.

You caught the tail end of the German’s muttering, something smug and useless like, “He’s in the process of moving to another city ---you best hurry, catch the fellow-”

You weren’t interested.

Not anymore.

You weren’t excited now.

You were enraged.

"Didn’t even have the guts to at least apologize before leaving. Spineless bi-"

"(Y/N)."

Oh great. Another sermon.

Hosea stood at the entrance of your tent, arms crossed, disappointment practically radiating off him.

"What did I tell you about-"

"Yeah, yeah. Respect him. Respect others." You threw your hands up. "BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?! Why does no one ever respect ME or my---someone else could have gone in his place but no-"

"He is doing all this for you! And what exactly are you throwing a tantrum about, huh? He’ll be back in a few minutes to take you out. There are hours left in the day."

"It’s not about hours," you snarled, voice sharp with years of swallowed fury. "It’s about priorities, Papa. Not that you’d know much about those. Your only priority is- no, everyone’s only priority is Dutch. Aww, poor baby Dutch. Let’s all tuck him in and tell him he’s doing amazing, sweetie."

"You are impossible!" Hosea barked. "Can’t have one decent conversation with you without you dragging his name or the gang’s through the mud. God--"

He turned and left, muttering and shaking his head like he always did.

Like he has been doing for years.

Now, Arthur breaking his promise? That was a long-forgotten thought.

Now you were angry at everything.

At being treated like some unruly little brat.

'Not mature.'

'Is that any way to speak to your elders?'

"Hosea, come get your girl, she’s off the meter again.'

That’s all your ears ever seemed to catch these days. That, and the way they all looked at you, like you were a problem that needed managing. A spark they were all waiting to smother.

And your father's eyes…

You won’t admit it, but they make you cower. You hate that look. The disappointment. It buries itself under your ribs and gnaws.

It’s better not to be seen at all than seen like that.

"Yeah, well... that’s what I am, I guess." You muttered under your breath, grabbing the mirror with trembling hands, knuckles turning white from the grip.

Disappointment.

Nuisance.

The stupid earrings you’d carefully picked out, the eyeliner smudged from effort, it all looked like a waste now. A joke you’d told yourself.

"No point in staying, then."

❀˖°

Arthur rode hard.

The dust kicking up behind his horse like smoke off a dying fire. He was muttering curses under his breath, hat pushed back, jaw tight. The paper from Strauss still burned in his pocket like a brand , some nonsense errand that should’ve been handled tomorrow. But no, Arthur had said yes, like a damn fool. Like someone who didn’t have a promise to keep.

"Such a damn fool." His horse huffed as if agreeing with him.

But at that moment, some extra cash meant extra things for you. And he couldn't say no. He always wanted to give you tenfold. But of course, you might have ignored that notion in the blindness caused by your frustration.

You were probably waiting. Or, worse.....you weren’t.

He spotted the wildflowers on the side of the trail just past the bend. Simple little things, yellow and pink, no name he could think of, but soft-looking. Pretty. Like you looked this morning, tugging on that shawl and giving him that rare half-smile that haunted him the whole damn ride.

'What am I sayin', she looks prettier by every second.'

But right now, all he could imagine was...you with arms crossed, eyes rolling, that stubborn little scowl he’d memorized like a prayer. He could see you pacing somewhere, cursing under your breath, probably seconds away from flinging a rock at his head or someone else's the second he showed up.

He yanked the reins, brought the horse to a halt, and slid off in a rush. His fingers were clumsy, gloved, too big for something so delicate. He almost tore the stems trying to gather them fast enough.

"Shit," he muttered as one bloom snapped. He tossed it aside and kept grabbing more.

He didn’t know what he was doing. You weren’t the type to swoon over flowers. Hell, you might throw them back in his face. But he had to bring something.

It wasn’t about the flowers. It was about the hours you waited. The silence he left you with. The look you probably gave the sky when he didn’t show up.

But he hoped they’d at least make you pause before yelling at him. Maybe you’d roll your eyes a little softer. Maybe you'd stay long enough to hear him say sorry.

He tucked them carefully under one arm and kicked his horse into motion again, the weight in his chest getting heavier the closer he got.

Please still be there.

Please still be his.

But lo and behold, what does he find?

"Wh--what do you mean gone?" Arthur demands, voice low but sharp.

Lenny shrugs, uneasy. "Oh, you know… another fight, probably. Hosea came ‘round later, asked if we’d seen her."

"And?"

"We didn’t. He left just minutes ago, lookin’ for her."

Arthur’s grip tightens around the flowers. His heart drops.

❀˖°

Hosea, on the brink of losing himself, finally finds you-

There, slumped but defiant in the back of a rattling wagon, wrapped in a rough wool shawl, arms crossed like you own the damn thing.

A group of burly lumberjacks laugh, bickering and talking in the wagon until they notice him and tip their hats.

"Hey, mister-"

"Stop the wagon, please."

"Why would we do that?"

"Because that’s my daughter--(Y/N), GET OFF this instant! What in God’s name were you thinking, running off with strangers?”

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Papa. But you know what? I want Sunday dinners and pearls, not blood and broken spurs. I am tired of everything, of being some--some kind of burden."

Burden...? He heard that correctly, or is it just his age playing silly tricks?

One of the lumberjacks cuts in, grinning, "Sorry to interrupt, but we can’t just let a girl who doesn’t wanna go with you....go."

"That’s right," you grin back. "Finally, some people who understand me, and my choices. We are going to town, and I am starting life on my own terms." You clutched a small bag of clothes you had tighter with your chest, making Hosea roll his eyes.

Right. As if that's easy. Do you even have any idea what kind of people exist out there?

"(Y/N), now’s not the time for taunts or jabs! You know it's dumb! Be sensible! GET. OFF. Before I-"

“Before you what, old man? Lasso her or something? Are you able to do that?" the driver with the brown ponytail chimed in, barely hiding his grin. Helpful as they were, the men were clearly enjoying the family drama, especially the sharp mouth you had on you. Little did they know they were talking to an outlaw---well...more of a father at the moment.

Who was weak.

Weak when it came to you.

'Yeah, I bet I won't be able to do that.' Hosea though.

One of the lumberjacks chuckles, slapping his knee. "Old man, you sound like a bear with a sore paw."

Another lumberjack piped up, grinning wide. "Yeah, maybe you oughta buy her a pie or somethin’, works better than all that hollerin’. "

The joke landed with a laugh from the others, but it sent a cold chill crawling down Hosea’s spine.

He wasn’t going to let you run off like this. Not like this.

And that damn smirk on your face, as if you’d won something, wasn’t evil. No, it was worse.

It was innocent.

So trusting, isn’t she......so full of hope when it comes to achieving what you want.

The thought made his chest tighten.

You let out a dry laugh, arms crossed tighter. "See? Even these fine gentlemen think you’re all bark and no bite."

Hosea bit back the sharp reply rising to his tongue. His horse began to slow as the wagon rolled farther ahead. His heartbeat quickened, not from anger now, but fear.

He could see it, the sadness in your eyes, barely hidden beneath the armor of pride.

And for a moment, it was as if time stopped.

The two of you locked in another silent fight, just like always. That exhausting, endless tug of war neither of you ever seemed to win.

Was this it then?

Why is he frozen...?

Why has your gaze stopped him?

Did you stop to even think about all of them for once?

Then-

Whoosh!

A gust of wind kicked up dust as a rider tore past him, nearly brushing his stirrup.

Hosea’s horse startled and danced sideways.

Arthur.

"Stop the damn wagon."

"Now who are you-"

"ARTHUR, NO! DON'T YOU COME HERE RUINING EVERYTHING!" you shouted, scrambling to your knees in the back. "I am not going back, you hear me?! Don’t you dare stop the wagon, Richie!"

On first-name basis, are we?

Arthur’s jaw ticked. His eyes, dark, unreadable, flicked from you to the driver, then to the other men, and back again. Whatever softness he might’ve had left after a hard day was gone now.

He wasn’t happy.

"What’s with you men chasin’ after her like she’s game?" one of the men asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You better back off before I-"

"Before you what, cowboy?" another scoffed, tightening his grip on the reins.

And in a flash, before anyone could blink, Arthur was off his horse and hauling himself up the side of the wagon like it owed him money.

"ARTHUR! YOU IDIOT!" you shrieked, scooting back, clutching the edge like it’d save you.

"Git!" he hollered at the driver, grabbing his collar. "Off the wagon. Now."

The men flinched.

Even dear, poor Richie.

"Alright, alright--Geez-," one muttered, raising his hands. "We ain’t gettin’ paid enough to wrestle some wild love story."

"You’re all insane," you spat, glaring at Arthur as he jumped down and held a hand out like this was some fairy tale. "I mean it! Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me-"

"I’m takin’ you back," he said, quiet but firm. "Even if you kick, bite, and scream the whole damn ride."

You did all three. And still ended up in his arms.

❀˖°

"You’re insane, Arthur. Insane." You kicked again, lightly this time, the fight wearing off as he settled you sideways in front of him on the saddle.

"I told you I wasn’t coming back-"

"Yeah, well," he muttered, his arms bracketing you tightly, "you’re a damn terrible liar, kid."

How dare he call you that-

"I hate you."

"Shocking."

"You ruined everything."

"You ruined your eyeliner cryin’ behind that wagon. Don’t act like you weren’t waitin’ for me."

"I was not-"

He leaned down, voice low near your ear. "I’ll always chase you. You know that, right?"

You stiffened.

"Wherever you run, I’ll find you. I’ll knock on doors. I’ll yell at wagons. I’ll punch lumberjacks if I have to. even kill if that's what it takes."

"But you didn’t have to haul me like that in front of everyone, you overgrown ox!"

"Could’ve fooled me, the way you were throwin’ a tantrum in that wagon."

"I was riding to town with decent, non-judgmental people."

"Right. Real decent. One of ‘em had a knife up his sleeve."

You blinked. "No he didn’t---wait, did he?"

"Point is," Arthur said, firm, "you don’t go running off without tellin’ someone. I came back and you were just... gone. Like you didn’t care what that’d do to me. Do you know...that makes my heart bleed?"

You looked away, jaw tight. "Maybe I didn’t."

Arthur huffed a bitter laugh. " Oh, I know you don't. You just like makin’ us chase after you. Like a game."

"Well, for starters, I also like not being suffocated and being treated as inferior. But who cares about that, right?"

"And I prefer knowin’ you’re not climbin’ into wagons with strangers like a damn runaway with a death wish."

You growled, trying to elbow him off, but he caught your wrist mid-swing, voice low but trembling with emotion.

"I will always find you. You hear me? You run, I’ll follow. You disappear, I’ll tear the world down ‘til I get you back, darlin'."

You tried to look unaffected, but your breath caught. “Romantic threats. How charming.”

“Not a threat. It’s a promise.”

You let out a scoff, yet again. "You’re still an idiot."

"And you’re still mine."

Hosea followed on his own horse, slumped forward in the saddle like a man ten years older, muttering under his breath.

His horse snorted. He sighed again, watching you and Arthur up ahead, bickering, leaning too close, then arguing again.

I am too old for this shit.

"Hosea, you alright?"

"Hm. You?."

"Better now."

Arthur glanced over, catching the weight in the old man’s expression. He knew, knew damn well, how much your actions had cut Hosea deep. But he wasn’t gonna say anything. Not now. Not when you were already burning hot enough to set the whole camp aflame. He wasn’t about to make you feel worse than you already did, even if you were hiding it behind all that noise. He made a quiet note to talk to Hosea later--when things weren't so... loud.

"I’m gonna head to town with her."

"No, I literally look like I crawl-"

"Hushhh, you look fine, darlin. You always do." A kiss to your crown again.

"Sure. Have a good time." And with that, the white-haired man nudged his horse into a steady trot the other way, clearly choosing peace over whatever hell the two of you had brewing.

Arthur turned his attention to you sitting in front of him, eyes locked on the back of your head.

Menace.

He reached forward and pinched your side, hard enough to make you jump.

"Are you five?!"

He grinned, the picture of smug satisfaction. "Just makin’ sure you hadn’t turned to stone from all that brooding."

You twisted your neck just enough to glare at him. "You ever gonna quit treating me like I belong in a glass box?"

"Not until you quit flingin’ yourself into danger like it’s a damn pastime."

"Maybe I like pastimes."

Arthur grinned. "Then I guess I’m yours, ‘cause chasin’ after you’s a full-time job."

You glanced down at the slightly crushed flowers poking from his saddlebag, your frown softening for half a second.

He noticed, but didn’t say a word.

Instead, he leaned closer, voice quieter now. "I know what you’re runnin’ from, alright? And I know I ain’t perfect. But I’ll always chase you. You run, I follow. That’s the deal now."

"Whatever."

"And sorry...darling. For being late."

"....'s fine." Your childish mumble was caught by him.

Arthur gave a soft, boyish laugh. "Good. Hate when you’re mad at me. Hurts worse than a bullet."

Before you can react, he brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear, and then his lips are on yours. Gentle, steady. A soft promise in a kiss.

When he pulls back just a little, his eyes search yours, full of something tender and stubborn all at once.

"I’ll always find you, woman," he murmurs, voice rough. "Ain’t no one gonna love you the way I do. Ain’t no fella' stupid enough to even try-"

"Wha-excuse me-"

"You're my trouble. My damn heartbeat too. I don't want peace if it ain't got you in it."

You catch the corner of his mouth twitching, half a smile, half a challenge.

He grins softly. "Not that I’m planning to let you get away anytime soon." He pulls you back tightly to his chest, making the message clear.

"Did those bastards hurt you? Touch you?"

"...No..as if I would allow that." You uttered the words in his neck with a sigh, minutes away from dozing off on his chest, but he wasn't satisfied.

Damn right cuz' if they had, I will turn this horse round' and finish the whole deal.

He pulled you away by the back of your neck, receiving an annoyed grunt from you, his fingers warm against your skin but firm, eyes sweeping over you with barely contained urgency.

"Let me see you," Arthur murmured, voice low and thick with something sharp beneath the softness. His eyes roamed, from your face to your collarbone, down to your arms. Every inch he could see, he checked, like he was memorizing you all over again just to make sure you were still in one piece.

His thumb brushed over a faint red mark on your wrist, from gripping the wagon, maybe, or from bracing yourself too tight.

A shadow crossed his face.

"That from them?" he asked, jaw clenching.

"No. I told you, they didn’t lay a finger on me. Calm down."

Still, he lifted your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss there. Then the other. Soft, reverent, like the damage done, real or imagined, needed his touch to undo it. Then the other wrist slow, deliberate, like each kiss might erase his worry.

His arms wrapped around you again, tighter this time, his cheek resting against your hair.

His fingers brush your cheek, warm and sure, as if daring you to argue, though you say nothing.

"Runnin’ off like that, ridin’ in wagons with strangers… You tryin’ to age me early, woman."

❀˖°

Arthur doesn’t leave camp for a whole week. Not once. The others start noticing, Susan raises an eyebrow, Dutch gives him a knowing look, but Arthur just shrugs it off. This week is about you. To make you think thrice before running off. To make you forget all the reasons that made you leave in the first place.

Every morning, he’s right there, a quiet presence by your side, ready to pamper you like you’re the queen of the world. He rubs your temples with slow, careful strokes, fingers warm and steady as they work through the knots you didn’t know you had. The same with your feet.

Say farewell to chores. His darling is not even lifting a finger.

"Quit squirming," he says, his voice low and teasing when you try to protest. "You look like you need this more than you think."

You scoff but don’t pull away. He knows exactly how to make you relax, even if you pretend to act annoyed.

He sneaks you wildflowers he picks from the woods, jewels, fresh berries from the camp larder, pastries, feeds you himself and makes little hand-drawn cards with his awkward scrawls that make you roll your eyes and laugh at the same time. Even silly drawings of other members just to hear your cackle.

"You’re such a fool," you tell him as he holds you on top of him, though your playful chuckle softens the sting.

Arthur just grins, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as he cuddles you closer in his cot, perfect enough for you both. "Maybe. But I’m your fool, princess."

Always.

AN: Do comment and lemme know ur thoughts! Don't be a shy reader ;)

[prettygirl-gabi]

Skin to Skin

---

---

Rating: General Audiences

Warning:Fluffy fluff, even more fluff, very boring but cute aftercare

Category:F/M

Fandom: Matt Sturniolo (Sturniolo Triplets)

Relationships: !boyfriend Matt Sturniolo x f reader

Summary: imagine laying on top of matt skin to skin after sex and he’s just carresing the back of ur head 😢

This came from @mattscoquette and her anonymous ask.... I hope I did it justice and I hope I did it well

---

I lay on top of Matt, our bodies warm and tangled, the only sounds in the room being the quiet hum of the city outside and our slowed breaths. My head rests against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear is comforting. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders, his hand moving slowly up and down my back, tracing small, soothing circles. I feel safe, cocooned in the warmth of his skin and the softness of his touch.

Neither of us says anything for a while, content in the shared silence. I close my eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. The room is dimly lit, a soft glow from the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows over us. I can feel him occasionally shift, his fingers grazing the back of my neck, sliding up into my hair, then back down to the base of my spine. I love the way he touches me—so careful, as if I might slip away if he’s not gentle enough.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, his voice a soft rumble that I feel more than I hear.

I nod, too relaxed to open my eyes just yet. "Mhm," I murmur, nestling closer. "I'm perfect."

He laughs, a quiet sound, and I feel his chest vibrate beneath me. "Perfect, huh?" He shifts slightly, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face. "I can live with that."

I smile, opening my eyes to look up at him. His face is relaxed, his eyes soft and sleepy. There’s something in his gaze that makes my heart flutter—a kind of tenderness that he usually hides beneath his usual jokes and laid-back attitude. But right now, with just the two of us here, he doesn’t hold anything back.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud. His hand moves up to cradle the back of my head, his thumb tracing a gentle line along my cheek. "I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this."

My cheeks flush, and I look away, a little embarrassed. "Stop," I mumble, though I don’t really want him to.

But he shakes his head, his gaze steady. "No. I mean it. You’re... you’re everything." His words are soft, sincere, and they settle in my chest, warm and comforting.

I close my eyes again, letting his words sink in. It's moments like these that make everything worth it—the late-night conversations, the small, quiet gestures, the laughter we share. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this connected to someone, like we’re two parts of the same whole.

After a few more minutes, I shift, lifting myself up just enough to meet his gaze. "You don’t have to be all sweet, you know," I tease, though my voice comes out softer than I intended. "I’m not going anywhere."

He smiles, his fingers brushing against my temple. "I know," he says, pulling me back down to his chest. "But I want to. I like being sweet to you."

His words make my heart ache in the best way. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, feeling his warmth seep into me. It’s quiet again, and I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment. I feel him press a soft kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering for a moment before he settles back against the pillow.

"Are you tired?" he asks after a while, his voice low.

I shake my head, running my hand up his side, feeling the way his muscles shift beneath my touch. "Not really. I just want to stay like this."

"Good," he murmurs, tightening his arm around me. "Because I’m not letting you go."

We lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other. His fingers never stop moving, tracing gentle patterns along my back, his touch grounding me, reminding me that he’s here, that this is real.

Eventually, I break the silence, lifting my head to look at him again. "What are you thinking about?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at me, his gaze soft, thoughtful. "Just… you. Us. How lucky I am."

His words hit me, filling me with a warmth that I can’t quite put into words. "I’m the lucky one," I whisper, brushing my fingers over his jawline. "I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this."

He smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Me neither," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "But I don’t want it any other way."

I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me, letting myself believe them. There’s a vulnerability in moments like this, a kind of raw, unfiltered honesty that makes me feel closer to him than ever. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He shifts slightly, adjusting the blankets around us, making sure I’m comfortable. His touch is gentle, reassuring, like he’s trying to tell me without words that he’ll always be here, that he’ll always take care of me.

"I love you," he whispers, almost like he’s afraid to break the quiet, but his words settle over me like a blanket, warm and comforting.

I look up at him, my heart swelling. "I love you too," I whisper back, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulls me closer, his hand moving up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers tangled in my hair. And in that moment, I know that this is where I belong—right here, in his arms, safe and loved.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[lilolebambi]

sub!chris finding out he has a choking kink

(tryna help u out with some request🤞🏾)

God, he's screwed.

All he's doing is watching you put away dishes, and he can feel his dick hardening in his boxers.

While you were away at work, he got bored, and usually, when he gets bored, he gets horny. And since you weren't there, he had no choice but to watch porn. And now he's here, imagining your hand wrapped around his throat, your pretty acrylics brushing against his Adam's apple—

"Chris?"

"H-huh?" He tilts his head, "I was asking if you wanted to watch a movie." He nods quickly.

So, so screwed.

He can't think like this. Your hands softly rest against his chest as you nuzzle your head into him. The jump scares from the horror movie you put barely have any effect on him when you have him like this.

"Chris." You say, barely above a whisper. "What?"

He swallows. Hard. Your hands trail down his chest as you lock eyes, "You've been acting so weird. Did I do something?" The cute pout on your lips is making his heart ache. He feels so bad.

"No.. I...." The words get stuck in his throat, watching your hands come up to play with the necklace you bought him with your initial on it. "I... watchedsomething." Your eyebrows furrow together at his slurred words. "You watched something?"

He bites his lip, already feeling the blood rush to his face. "I... was watching, um," He coughs, "Porn." You giggle, "Yeah?"

He blushes. "A-and this girl wrapped her hand around the guys uh...um." He trails off, too embarrassed to finish his words.

But you get it. Chris eyes widen as your hand wraps around his throat. "She did this?" He nods, you hum. "It looked like it felt good, huh?"

He nods again, gasping for air when you squeeze his throat. "Words."

"Y-yes." He whines out, embarrassed enough but quickly turning even more red when he realizes you can feel his raging boner. "Does it feel good?" You squeeze again, harder. And you don't need to hear Chris speak to know it feels good because he lets out the most pathetic sound you've ever heard, something between a moan and a sob.

"Oh, baby.." You coo, watching the way he tries to hide his face from you. "S-shut up."

[sturnsmadl]

matt with a yapper s/o headcannons!

matt who always admires u as u speak.

matt who nods and hums to make sure u know ur heard.

matt who gets all the drama from just listening to u speak.

“and she said that to u?”

“yes! i was so sad.”

“i would’ve beat her ass for u.”

matt who gets nervous when u go quiet.

“babe? u awake?”

matt who ‘needs’ u to explain everything to him as an excuse to hear u talk.

“how do i preheat the oven?”

matt who smiles as he sees u happy as u talk.

matt who comes straight home to ask u about ur day.

“how was today baby?”

“god i have so much to say.”

“go on.”

matt who asks for ur opinion on everything so he can hear u speak passionately about something.

“hey babe? what’s ur opinion on pineapple on pizza?”

matt who facetimes u as much as possible when he’s on tour.

matt who randomly kisses u while ur talking.

matt who reassures u when u stop talking.

“keep going. i’m listening”

matt who when u speak immediately puts his phone down to listen.

matt who snapped at u once and immediately felt bad when u went quiet.

“oh..”

“oh baby i’m so sorry..keep talking please i didn’t mean it babe i promise i love u talking okay?”

matt who thinks ur the sweetest girl ever.

“i ended up just apologising because yk i-“

“babe come on. u didn’t do anything wrong don’t let them tell u that u did okay?”

matt who when fucking u makes sure ur aware of the effect he has. .

“got nothing to say now huh? come on baby u know i love hearing ur voice”

“i-i can’t-“

“yes u can. use ur words.”

i’ve never hated something i’ve wrote sm

tags!

@sassysturniolo2008 @bellaonthelow @muchloveforhacker @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersslut @ellizzyy @strmbolisworld