joces-wrld

[joces-wrld]

IN WHICH— matt cant help but fall for you

| slight angst, lwk toxic. not proofread.

| the REST of this writing marathon!!

everyone told him you were bad news.

nick was the first.

"dude. don’t even look at her."
"why not?"
"because if you do, she’ll ruin your life. and you’ll like it."

he looked anyway.

you were in the back of the school parking lot, red solo cup in hand, cursing someone out with your foot up on the bumper of your car like you owned the whole damn world.

and maybe you did. because the second your eyes met his, he was a goner.

you were the girl who got suspended sophomore year for fighting a senior. who snuck out of detention to make out with the principals son. who kissed someone's boyfriend just because he said you wouldn't.

so when matt sturniolo starts showing up to school with red marks on his neck and bruised knuckles that don't match his soft personality, everyone knows exactly who to blame.

you.

but it's not that simple.

because matt? he's the one who kissed you first.

but to be fair, he didn't mean for it to happen.

you weren't his type.

you were loud, reckless, and always had a fresh bruise or some kind of chaos following you around like a damn puppy.

he liked calm. quiet. predictable.

but you weren't any of that. you were loud music at 2 a.m, chipped nail polish and lip gloss stained straws, late night phone calls and blurry polaroids and red lights he ran just to get to you faster.

you were everything he shouldn't want. and yet everything he couldn't stop wanting.

it was a saturday night. someone's house, someone's party, someone's parents definitely not home. music blaring, bodies pressed together, beer pong in the kitchen, and you-curled up on the back porch with a cigarette you didn't light.

"you don't even smoke," a voice says behind you, amused. you don't look up. "you stalking me now, sturniolo?" he sits next to you anyway. too close. "just trying understand the hype."

you snort. "what hype?"

"you," he shrugs.

and then you're kissing.

you don't remember who leaned in first, but you remember the taste of mint and whiskey on his lips, the way his hands gripped your hips like he wasn't planning to let go.

you don't stop until someone yells his name from inside and you both break apart like you weren't seconds away from sin.

"that didn't mean anything," you lie, standing up, brushing your skirt down. "right," he says back. because it didn't.

you were drunk. he was stupid. it was a one-time thing.

except it wasn't, three nights later, you're in his bed. and again a week after that, climbing through his window, eyeliner smudged, legs bare.

and suddenly, he's yours.

of course you never made it official. never held hands in public or posted pictures or said the word "relationship."

you weren't the type. and neither was he— at least, not until you.

why? because you're like a storm.

every time he thinks he's got you figured out, you change. you say you're bad for him, yet you still wear his hoodies. you say you don't believe in love, but look at him like he's the only thing real in a world full of fake. you say "don't fall for me." but then cry into his chest at 3 a.m when your hands won't stop shaking.

what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?

show up to school late!

because next thing he knows, he's driving across town to bring you iced coffee. he's learning how to braid hair for you. you learn his mom's favorite flower. he gets into a fight with a guy who called you a slut. you egg someone's car for looking at him wrong.

he knows you don't believe in labels. knows you get twitchy when people try to box you in. but god, he wishes he could call you his.

"we're just... us," you said once, playing with the fray of his hoodie sleeve.

but what was us?

is it the way you only sleep when you're in his bed? the way you freak out when other girls talk to him, then act like you don't care two minutes later? the way you smile when his mom pretends not to like you— but still saves your favorite snacks in the pantry?

what the hell are you?

because he knows what he is. he's yours. fully. stupidly. embarrassingly yours. it's messy, honestly. everything you swore you didn't want, that'swhat it was.

but it's addicting. and you're both hooked.

"i can't do this anymore," you snap one night, standing in the middle of his room with your fists clenched and mascara smudged under your eyes.

"we're not good for each other."

he's sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at you like you just ripped his heart out and set it on fire.

"so that's it? you're done?" his voice is quiet, shaky.

"i never said that."

he gets up, walks over. too close again.

"then stop pretending you don't feel it too," he says, fingers ghosting over your cheek. "because i do. and i'd let you destroy me a thousand times over if it means i get to have you."

your heart stutters. he kisses you like it's the last time. you kiss him like it's the first, and you don't talk about leaving again.

every fight ends with a kiss.

every kiss ends with another night spent tangled in his sheets, breathless and aching.

he leaves bite marks on your collarbone. you leave your perfume on his pillows. his mom swears you're his downfall. your dad calls him a "walking mistake." your friends say you're toxic. his friends say you'll ruin him.

and maybe you will. maybe you already have.

but when he smiles at you like you're the only thing keeping him sane, like he'd rather crash and burn than live without the flame— you know one thing for sure.

you're not letting go. not yet.

some nights, he swears he can still feel your touch on his skin. even when you're not there.

and when you are? he's useless.

you walk into a room and his brain stops working. "dude," chris said once, "you look at her like she put the stars in the sky."

and maybe you did. maybe you are the sky. chaotic. beautiful. and impossible to hold.

he's not even trying to keep you. just trying to be enough for you to come back.

because you see, the thing about you? you start fires. and then kiss the boy who burns for you.

and he? he doesn't care if you're dangerous. he doesn't care if you bite when you kiss or yell when you're scared or run when you get too close.

why?

because he knows you'll come back. you always do.

and he'll be right there. hands open. heart bleeding. waiting. hooked. completely, helplessly hooked.

why?

because thats who matt is.

a/n: guess im back....

tags- @clairo4life @xsturnkay @h3arts4isa @mf-divaaa-08 @bugs-tags @moond0llie @izzylovesmatt @courta13 @twylas114 @sturniolos1uts

[joces-wrld]

𓇼 ⋆.˚𓇼⋆.˚ 𓇼! high as the sky

✩ blurb!

IN WHICH— fratboy! chris is higher than God himself

| mentions of weed..? fluff.

it was a cool, chilly november night. the college campus was alive with the hustle and bustle of students preparing for midterms. the crisp air nips at your nose and ears as you skate towards the infamous frat house

you didnt even know why you were making your way down here, chris was clearly high out of his mind, texting you "miss ya" and whatnot

you sigh, walking inside the house and straight to chris's dorm, mumbling a quick "hi" to his brothers and the other boys who lived there as you passed them. you hesitantly knock on his door, not wanting to alarm chris

"'s me chris, let me in"

it takes a couple seconds before the door opens, a big dorky smile on the boys face, completely opposite of his usual stoner attitude. he grabs your arm, quickly pulling you inside his room. a strong smell immediately hitting your nostrils

the giddy boy pulls you into a hug, twiddling with the strands of hair on the back of your neck. "jesus christ kid, how much ya take, you're acting like one of my kindergartners" you mumble, accepting his hug

chris giggles, like, actually giggles... letting you go from the hug and dragging you to his bed. there, you notice the amount of rolled joints

you sigh out a small, "chris...", before picking them up and setting them on the tray that sat on a desk near his bed. "c'mereee" he whines, pulling you into his chest

okay yeah, he either tried something new, or just had a fuck load of everything in his system cause this was not the chris you knew

sure, the boy was usually meaner when high, acted like he didn't want you there. he didn't text you cause he "missed you," he texted you to fuck, what the hell had he taken??

"chris...what, what did you take?" "i dunnoooo" he giggles out, brushing his nose against the back of your neck. "you're actually scaring me chris. i'm not playing, what. did. you. take"

the sternness in your voice makes the 21 year old pout, "why're you mad at me....been super stressed, jus' wanted to not feel, y'know" he replies, pushing you away and turning his back to you

god, he really was acting like one of your kids. you sigh, if he was gonna act like a kid, you'd treat him like one. you place a hand on his hair, ruffling it slightly

"'m not mad sweetheart, jus' concerned, m'kay? dont want you takin things your body cant handle" you say, your tone calmer than before. the boy peeks over his shoulder, smiling at you. "hehehe, you're worried about me" "that i am, you're not acting like yourself"

he nods to your words, turning around and pulling you back into his chest. "i bet you're kids love you...bet you're an amazing teacher"

you giggle at his statement, "'s not funny ma, im bein f'real, you're so sweet, and nice, and caring. you have a way with your words" "yeah yeah, stop talking before normal you regrets anything you say, go to sleep" "...will you be here when i wake up?" "always am"

5 hours go by before chris finally stares awake

he opens his eyes and jumps a little. his face was on top of your head, his arms wrapped around your torso, and one of your legs was draped over his. he blinks slowly, carefully sliding you off him, trying not to wake you

"morning sleeping beauty" you mumble, barely opening your eyes

"oh, um, hey" he gives you a flat line smile, "you okay?" "huh? oh, yeah. i am, thanks...."

you sit up, hair messy as ever. "pretty" he slips out, eyes widening in shock at his own words. "all you princess aurora" you remark, stretching. "go back to sleep, ma. imma go get food, want something?" "mhm, whatever's fine"

a/n: i missed my babies!! this is lowk shitttt, because WHAT is that ending?!?!?! but lets not focus on thattt

—check out my masterlist!

[joces-wrld]

ballerina! reader X youtube/influencer! matt FULL masterlist

⊹ intro

⊹ how they met

⊹ bubbles and cuddle

⊹ social media posts

⊹ bows

⊹ tiktok trends

more coming soon....

[joces-wrld]

tomboy! reader X fratboy! chris FULL masterlist

⊹ introduction/how they met

⊹ first joint

⊹ texts

⊹ midnight shopping

⊹ marking territory

⊹ valentines fun

⊹ high as the sky

more coming soon.....

[joces-wrld]

Btw lmk what time it is when you answer this ask so ik your timezone ty

its currently 10pm!! i live in texas hun

[joces-wrld]

Also brainrot is actually goated bc I say what the sus unironically I fear

I FEAR IM STEALING THIS ASAP, NO ROCKY

[joces-wrld]

Um. Excuse me. I found your blog through an ask you sent queen xoxochb and I was like I totally relate bc thats literally what's happening to me rn but to a lesser degree so I went to your blog n to your info page and. Hello??? Are we literally the same person bc I'm a band kid and I like the sturniolos and I'm a FIEND for chipotle and I'm a night owl and probably some other stuff I read that I forgot already bc I have the memory of a goldfish‼ I fear you have a leech now (me)

HELLO?! ARE WE FUCKING TWINS??? look at us reuniting because of our queen prue 😍

you seem funny, pls dont go bald 💔

[joces-wrld]

HEY GUYS!! just wanna clarify, i am 100% OKAY thank you so much @izzylovesmatt for checking up on me! i was on the way to the ER because of my mom... YES she is okay, she just lowkey stopped seeing 🧍🏻‍♀️like out of nowhere she was like "yo i cant see anymore" TURNS OUT!! a little vein in her eye ripped, so it was leaking blood! we shall see what happens next 😜

[joces-wrld]

IN WHICH— chris keeps putting you back together, just for you to break yourself again

| sort of angst, not proofread.

| the REST of this writing marathon!!

you knock on his door at 12:47 a.m. again.

you don’t even have to say anything when he opens it. your eyes are red, makeup is smudged, hoodie sleeves are pulled over your hands like you’re trying to disappear. he doesn’t ask questions. he just steps aside, lets you in, and holds you when you fall apart for the third time this month.

third time this week, really.

your ex said something cruel again. made you feel small. like you were too much and not enough all at once. and somehow, some—fucking—how you still love him. still think he’s the one.

chris doesn’t get it.

he never will.

but he holds you anyway. makes tea you won’t drink and puts on your favorite comfort movie. he pulls the blanket over your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head like that alone could fix everything.

he knows it won’t. but he still hopes.

“i don’t know why i let him do this to me,” you whisper. “i feel so stupid.”

you’re not stupid. just soft. just hopeful. just too willing to believe a boy, who doesn’t deserve you, will suddenly change.

but chris can’t say that, not without sounding bitter.

so he just says, “you’re not stupid,” and pulls you closer.

you fall asleep on his chest, breathing slow and warm against his hoodie, like this is home. and for a second, he lets himself pretend it is.

you’ll wake up tomorrow, and everything will be okay for a while. you’ll smile at him in the kitchen, steal his phone to take pictures, laugh at something dumb he says. you’ll promise you’re done for good this time. done with the boy who keeps breaking you. done with hurting.

and for a few days, maybe a week, you’ll mean it.

you’ll text chris first. you’ll let him hold your hand in public. you’ll tell your friends how much he’s been there for you, how he always makes you feel better, how he never makes you cry.

but then he’ll text you. him.

and suddenly chris is just a safety net again.

a soft place to land.

a temporary fix.

because you’ll go running back to him, again.

“i just needed closure,” you’ll say. “it didn’t mean anything,” you’ll insist.

and chris will nod like it doesn’t gut him.

because what can he say? he’s just your friend. the one who loves you in all the quiet ways you never seem to notice. the one who memorized your favorite snacks, and your late-night cries, and how you like your hair held back when you’re sobbing on his bathroom floor.

he’s the one who fixes you.

but never the one you choose.

and it’s killing him.

he promised he’d be there till the end, but maybe this is the end. maybe the softest kind of love is the one that learns when to stop being your bandaid. when to stop letting you come back only to leave again.

but tonight, you’re in his bed, asleep, heart shattered. your body curled into his like muscle memory.

and he knows how this ends.

he just doesn’t know how to walk away.

not yet.

maybe not ever.

a/n: this was written in a hospital, sorry if its not the best! i'll probably do another version of this later on

tags— @clairo4life @xsturnkay @h3arts4isa @mf-divaaa-08 @bugs-tags @moond0llie @izzylovesmatt @courta13 @twylas114 @sturniolos1uts

[joces-wrld]

IN WHICH— you and chris hangout at a small get together.

| all fun! not proofread.

| the REST of this writing marathon!

chris is in his room, laying on top of the sheets in grey sweats and a hoodie he hasn’t taken off all day. his tv’s on, volume low, playing something he’s not even watching. one sock on. phone sitting on his chest, buzzing every few minutes with groupchat chaos.

| nate: bro let’s do sum. havent hung out in AGES

| jay: bro...we hung out 2 days ago

| nate: and?? ben said he’s down, his tank’s full

| ben: even jamie said he’d come, and he never comes out

| nate: CHRIS!!

| nate: ask yn :)

he stares at the last text for a second too long. not like you haven’t crossed his mind already.

you’ve been stuck in his head all week. and now it's friday and he’s antsy. bored. restless. craving something fun, something you.

he opens your text thread. fingers hover. then types,

| chris: what’s the move?

you respond in under a minute.

| n/n: julie’s house is empty

| n/n: like… all weekend empty...

his heart actually does a little thump at that.

| n/n: u could come through

| n/n: if u want

he sits up so fast the remote falls off the bed—

| chris: you want just me?

| n/n: up to u

| n/n: you could bring the guys. or not

| n/n: we could just chill, us

he's already off the bed, grabbing his keys.

julie’s house is big. stupid big. like chandelier-in-the-bathroom, driveway-bigger-than-a-court big.

you’re already there when chris shows up, nathan, ben, jay, and jaimie following. he wasn’t gonna bring anyone at first, but you said it was chill. and honestly? he was nervous coming by himself.

not nervous about you.

just nervous because of you.

you’re standing at the door when they pull up, hoodie half-zipped, drink in hand, socks long gone.

“damn,” chris says under his breath, admiring you. "what?” nathan asks, small smirk forming on his lips.

“nah, nothing.” (everything.)

the house fills up slowly.

not a real party, just that messy middle space between “hangout” and “we should probably clean up before someone’s mom comes home.”

music is playing. snacks are being scattered. kitchen lights warm and soft. chris finds you sitting on the counter, legs swinging, drink halfway done.

“you look like trouble,” he teases.

“you sound like my mom,” you shoot back, smirking.

he steps closer, leans his elbows on the counter next to your knee.

“so… is this a just you and me or a bring the whole crew kinda weekend?”

you shrug. “depends. are your friends gonna break anything?”

he laughs. “swear we won’t touch the fancy vases.”

you tilt your head. “you cook?”

he nods. “eggs. ramen. grilled cheese.”

you raise an eyebrow.

he grins. “i never said it was good cooking. just cooking.”

later, the music’s louder, the lights are lower, and your friends are mixing with his. there’s a game of uno going on in the living room, someone’s dancing barefoot in the kitchen, and nathan’s arguing with julie about who’s the better driver meanwhile neither of them have their license on them.

you’re curled up next to chris on the couch, legs tucked under you, one of his hands absentmindedly resting on your knee.

“i like your friends,” you say.

“told you,” he says. “we look dumb but we’re not that bad.”

you smile, leaning into him a little.

“you’re not dumb.” he turns his head to look at you.

like, really look at you. the room’s spinning with sound but you’re both locked in,

“you’re the reason i came,” he says.

your chest flutters, like the fizzy part of soda.

you try to play it cool. fail tremendously a little.

“i’m glad you did.”

“you still glad if i stay the whole weekend?”

“you cool with sleeping on the couch”

he grins, someone yelling, “JULIE’S DOG IS MISSING!!” but no one moves.

just you and him.

a big empty house.

the beginning of something, you think.

maybe not a party. maybe not chaos, just something real.

just you and chris.

a/n: you can tell this was rushed...im sorry, i was on my way to the er when i wrote this 😭😭 i'll prob release another version of this when life's calm down a bit

tags— @clairo4life @xsturnkay @h3arts4isa @mf-divaaa-08 @bugs-tags @moond0llie @izzylovesmatt @courta13 @twylas114 @sturniolos1uts

[joces-wrld]

hey guys, sorry for not posting, i had something unexpectedly come up, BUTTT i should be back tmr with 2(?) parts of the 8 Letters marathon! and something for my tomboy! reader and fratboy! chris au, i miss my babies :(

also, ngl, i saw one of my favs do a face reveal and it lowkey made me wanna do one 😪 IM NOT LMAOOO i just felt like sharing that 😭😭

[joces-wrld]

to think he's only 17 🤤

Mason Thames attends the World Premiere of F1® The Movie in Times Square on June 16, 2025

[joces-wrld]

HOOOOOOOOLY SHIT

i dont see many people writing for him so THANK YOU

im so excited for this bro ndifjaodndixossj

now introducing.....

actor!mason thames X influencer!reader

otherwise knows as chaotic sunshine (you) x lowkey simp (mason)

01...INFLUENCER READER. a 17 year old tiktoker with a following of 2M— known, but not too known. you're naturally a bit chaotic and extremely funny, leading to your popularity.

02...ACTOR MASON THAMES. 17 year old professional actor. most known for his character "finnley" in the black phone. he's gained popularity for his role as "hiccup" in the live action how to train your dragon.

03...STORYLINE. due to your rising popularity, you get invited to the premiere of the live action httyd, there is where you meet him, where you meet mason thames.

a/n: EXCITED FOR THIS AUUUUU RAHHHHH

[joces-wrld]

IN WHICH— chris is in deep deep love.

| slight fluff?? its not angst, but not extremely happy and cute. not proofread.

| the REST of this writing marathon!!

he knows what this is.

he’s felt it creeping in— the way your name sits heavier in his chest lately, the way your laugh reroutes his whole day, the way he starts looking for you the second he walks in a room.

he used to be scared of the ocean.

not the waves, not really.

he could stand on the shore just fine. let the water kiss his ankles. laugh when it pulled the sand from under his heels.

but deep water? no bottom, no control, nothing to hold onto? he hated that. he hated feeling like he was about to drown.

and love? it felt just like that.

he has a tendency to run from anything that feels too good.

too real.

he's been burned, time and time again.

but then you started showing up. you weren’t loud about it. you were gentle. easy to talk to.

and chris swears, swears, he didn’t mean to fall.

he just looked at you once.

noticed the way your eyes smiled before your lips did. the way your laugh curled around the room and softened everything. the way you talked about things like you meant them. how you were the kind of person who listens with her eyes, who remembers the little things, who never rushes him when he doesn’t know how to say what he means.

and suddenly he was standing at the edge of something terrifying.

you didn’t try to fix him.

you just saw him.

that was the problem.

because now he can’t stop thinking about you. your voice on the phone. your hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. the way you look at him like he’s already enough.

he doesn’t know what to do with that kind of softness.

you didn’t have to ask him to dive.

you were the dive.

a siren in his storm.

and for once, he didn’t care if he made it back to the surface.

"she’s just cool," he tells matt one night, trying to sound casual. matt doesn’t even look up from his phone. “you’re screwed.”

“what?”

“you never say that. you never explain someone. you really do like her, maybe even love her.”

chris opens his mouth, then closes it. chewing the inside of his cheek.

he does like love you.

that’s the problem.

you make him feel like he could stay. like he wants to stay.

and that’s terrifying.

there’s a night you fall asleep next to him on the couch. head on his chest, hand curled lightly into his hoodie. he doesn’t move. not for an hour. not even to check his phone. he just lays there, heart pounding in his throat, thinking:

don’t do this.

don’t fall.

she’ll ruin you.

she’ll be the end of you.

but another voice, a bit softer, deeper, real, whispers:

or maybe she’ll be the first thing that doesn’t.

he looks down at you. peaceful. safe. glowing in the streetlight glow through the window.

and that’s the moment.

the exact moment he knows he’s not getting out of this untouched.

he’s already in too deep. but he doesn’t pull back.

not this time.

“i don’t know what you did to me,” he whispers another night, voice hushed, head pressed against your bare shoulder, skin still buzzing from the way you just made love like it meant something.

his fingers trace slow, aimless shapes against your thigh.

you’re quiet, breathing steady.

“i feel like im drowning" he sighs, head dropping into the crook of your neck. you smile, soft and sleepy. “then breathe with me.”

he kisses you instead.

he never thought love would feel like this.

not like panic, or pain, or pressure.

but like floating. like warmth under his skin.

like every time you say his name, he remembers who he is.

you’re his air.

and he doesn’t mind drowning in you.

he used to run when things got serious.

but now?

now he’s at the bottom of the ocean, and he’s never felt more free.

and he wouldn’t change a thing.

a/n: i fear this might be my fav 🤧 in too deep was always my fav song from the album

tags: @moond0llie @clairo4life @xsturnkay @h3arts4isa @mf-divaaa-08 @bugs-tags @izzylovesmatt @courta13

comment on here if you wanna be added to my taglist!

[joces-wrld]

the ocean theme is so cute i love it

AHHHH TYTY , i lowkey dont like it 😭 i feel like it sucks compared to other blogs 💔💔

[joces-wrld]

IN WHICH— matt pays you a visit, all the way in your home state.

| very little angst, happy??? ending. not proofread.

| the REST of the writing marathon!!

matt touched down just after 1 am.

he didn’t text her when the plane landed. didn’t send the “just got here” snap. didn’t even check his gps. he already knew the way to her apartment by heart.

you didn’t know he was coming.

it had been a minute, weeks, actually. the texts were shorter, the calls less frequent. distance made everything foggy, and lately, it felt like neither of you knew where you stood.

but still, he showed up.

because you were the only one that ever felt worth showing up for.

knock

knock

knock

who would be knocking at your door THIS late at night?? you open the door with caution, shocked to see him.

"matt?"

he smiles at you, "'m sorry, did i wake you?" he asks, noticing your state: oversized hoodie, shorts that barely covered anything, one sock on, mascara a little smudged. eyes tired, surprised.

he leans against the doorway like it was the only thing holding him up. hoodie sleeves pushed up, chains loose around his neck, that same look in his eyes he always had when he missed you more than he was willing to say.

you sat on the couch, two feet of silence between you. the air thick with unsaid things.

“you disappeared,” he said finally. not mad, just… hurt. “you were gone before i was,” you say quietly, eyes on the floor.

that was the thing. you both knew how to be distant. how to fill the space with jokes or “i’m just tired” or “i’ve just been busy.” you both had options. him especially. girls dmed him everyday. but no one could ever be like you.

matt ran a hand through his hair and exhaled like the weight of it all was finally getting to him. “i came here for a reason,” he said. “not to play games. not to argue. just… to choose. you. us.”

you look at him. really look at him.

the way his knee bounced when he was nervous. the way his voice dropped when he was being honest. the way he always showed up when it counted, even if he didn’t always know what to say.

“what if we still don’t know how to make this work?” you ask, voice soft.

he leans in, just enough, “then we figure it out in the same city.”

you dont answer right away. just let yourself lean into his shoulder, your forehead pressing against the curve of his neck.

maybe this wasn’t perfect. maybe it was messy and uncertain. but maybe it was real enough to be worth it.

the next morning, sunlight spilled into your apartment like it forgot how to knock. quiet, golden, and slow.

you woke up first, still curled against matt’s side, not remembering when you even fell asleep. you blink against the light, your head heavy from the kind of sleep that only comes when you're next to someone who feels like home.

matt was still out, one arm slung over his head, mouth parted slightly. peaceful. you smile at him, there was something about seeing him like that— unguarded, still, here with you, that hit different.

he had really come.

you get up gently, letting him sleep while you make some coffee. the kind he liked, with too much creamer and barely any actual caffeine.

his phone buzzed on the counter. muted notifications. a name you didn’t recognize lit up the screen for a second and then disappeared.

you didn’t open it.

but it reminded you he did have options. people who laughed too hard at his jokes, who posted blurry mirror selfies just hoping he’d slide up.

and yet… he was here. no camera. no show.

just matt.

he stumbles into the kitchen ten minutes later, hair a mess, fingers rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “damn,” he mumbled, “you always get up this early?”

you pass him your mug. “not usually. didn’t really sleep that well the past few weeks.”

matt pauses. his hand brushed yours when he takes the cup. “me neither.”

you sat on the floor with your backs against the cabinets, knees touching, the silence softer than last night’s.

“so,” you said quietly, eyes focused on her chipped nail polish, “what now?”, he tilts his head. “now? we figure out what it looks like to not be in different states.”

“long-distance sucked.” you smile out, your foot resting atop his.

“yeah. but silence was worse.”

you glance at him, and he smiles, not wide, but real. the kind that starts in the eyes.

“i’m not leaving this time unless you tell me to,” he says. “i’m not running. i’m not guessing where we stand. i just wanna show up, and keep showing up, if you’ll let me.”

you stare at him, heart in your throat.

this boy. with his hoodie sleeves and late-night flights and imperfect timing. he wasn’t promising perfection.

he was promising presence.

you didn’t say yes. not out loud.

but you lean in, close, steady, and kiss him slow, like something was unfolding instead of falling.

and that?

that was enough.

a/n: shi ion kno

tags: @moond0llie @clairo4life @xsturnkay @h3arts4isa @mf-divaaa-08 @bugs-tags @izzylovesmatt

comment on here if you wanna be added to my tag list!

[joces-wrld]

IN WHICH— you and matt can't talk without fighting.

| slight angst, not proofread.

| the REST of this writing marathon!!

matt stares at his phone like it betrayed him. thumb hovering over your contact, wondering if it’s even worth trying again. you used to talk about everything. now you can't even talk without fighting.

you're sitting in your apartment, phone face-down on the couch, heart too tired to argue again. every conversation felt like a glitch, words coming out, but never making it to the other person. you said one thing, he heard another. he said something else, you shut down.

two people trying so hard and still missing every mark.

you loved him. you still love him, maybe, but love didn’t always mean connection. sometimes it just meant breaking over and over, because neither of you knew how to let go.

matt remembers how it used to be with you, how you'd smile when he said your name, how you'd ramble about your day, how you made him feel like the only one in the room. now, you barely looked up when he walked in.

“you never listen,” you said once, voice low and tired. “you hear me, but you don’t listen.”

and maybe you were right. maybe all his "i'm sorry"s came too late. maybe all his efforts came off like noise instead of healing. he didn’t mean to shut you out. he didn’t mean to turn love into riddles and silence. but it happened, slowly. and now here you were.

you wanted him to fight for you. he wanted you to understand he just didn’t know how. not anymore.

you guys tried to fix it— God, did you both try. long talks that eventually turned into arguments. soft apologies that turned sharp. texts that ended in three dots and no reply. you talked so much, and still, you never heard each other.

tonight, it's quiet. you're curled up, staring at the door, wondering if he’ll come. wondering if you'd even open the door if he did.

matt's in his car, parked outside your building, gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing holding him together. he looks at your window. lights on. you're home. maybe you're thinking of him too.

he calls you.

ring.

ring.

ring.

voicemail.

he doesn’t leave a message.

you look at your phone lighting up and let it go. you stare at the blank screen afterward like it holds an answer.

matt sighs, starting the car and heading back home.

you're both waiting for the other to listen first. both tired of yelling. tired of not being heard.

but tonight, it’s just silence.

a/n: notice a pattern yet?? i'll give u a hint, they're all sort of angsty :/

tags: @moond0llie @clairo4life @xsturnkay @h3arts4isa @mf-divaaa-08 @bugs-tags @izzylovesmatt

comment on here if you wanna be added to my taglist!