nathandoesgf - Tumblr blog

nathandoesgf · 2 months

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fucking fuck you im sobbinf so bad rn choke ro death why skuld anhone witr shot this sad

you drew stars around my scars, matt sturniolo 𐙚˚.⋆

pairing, bf!matt & gf!reader

warnings, self harm & angst

where you go through a bad day and resort to old habits to soothe yourself. once matt finds out, he shows you just how much he loves you. please don't read if it will make you uncomfortable!!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Like everyone else, you had secrets. Plenty of them. Some that not a single soul knew about. However, there were some secrets that didn't have to be spoken of for someone else to find out. Some secrets could be learned through your body. For instance, the scars that were scattered across your arms and thighs gave away a secret about how you handle yourself during difficult times. The old ones told people how long you've been struggling with this secret, and the newer ones told people that you're still dealing with it.

Some people look at these marks with distaste, while others may look with sympathy. Some even find you relatable when they notice them. You never expected someone to look at them with love, though. You found the idea of someone looking with care absurd. However, that's exactly how Matt looked at them. When you first showed them to him, there wasn't a trace of disgust on his face. You felt confused and a bit panicked as you'd never gotten this kind of reaction before. When Matt explained, though, you found yourself falling deeper in love with him.

He looked so lovingly at them because it symbolized how much you've grown to trust him. You were so comfortable and intertwined with him that you didn't feel the need to hide them from him, let alone swat him away when he pressed gentle kisses to them. Or when he carefully traced them with his finger. Or grazed over them mindlessly with the tip of his thumb as he scrolled on his phone.

You liked how nonchalant he was about them because it reminded you that despite the fact they littered your body, they didn't make you any less human. It made you feel as if it was normal to struggle with these kinds of things, and he didn't hesitate to reassure you that it was.

It is normal. It is human. It is okay. And there's nothing disgusting or monstrous about having scars.

He did make sure to have a short conversation with you about them and he told you that if you ever had the urge to do this to yourself again, just call him and he'd help you out. You promised him you would, he even went as far as making it a pinky promise, but you found yourself struggling to keep your word. The first time he caught you wasn't pretty. You were a mess and you'd screwed up your thighs, but he made sure to help you clean them and wrapped them thoroughly. You could tell he was disheveled, but he stayed in the shower floor with you until you felt okay to go to sleep that night and he reassured you that you didn't have to apologize. The next time he found you, he cleaned you up again and spent an hour rubbing your back after, which helped in calming you down. There were a few other times, but he remained kind and helpful throughout all of them.

After numerous occasions of being exposed with blood on your arms, or a new blade in the bathroom, or wearing hoodies in summer weather, you began to doubt you'd ever find the strength to stop.

That was until a specific day Matt had caught you. The day that changed the way you'd think of yourself for the rest of your life.

ʚɞ

Your morning was absolutely terrible. You were greeted with a throbbing headache right when you woke up, which would typically mean a rest day at home, but you had important things to do. You had three exams for three different courses, along with a two page essay that was due the next morning and an hour long lecture you needed to catch up and take notes on for an important class. Just the thought of all of that made your head pulse with pain.

To top it all off, you felt anything but pretty.

It may sound dramatic, but you'd always struggled with self esteem issues, and feeling insecure always made your days way worse. You felt like giving up on everything when you felt ugly.

You sighed angrily and ignored these feelings, forcing yourself to start your long day. It was so early that you could still hear Matt's quiet snores beside you, meaning you managed to wake up before him. You smiled as you looked down at his limp body, his face stuffed in his pillow and the blankets messily strewn across him. You shuffled out from under his arm that had been thrown across your stomach and you gently kissed the back of his hand before standing up. It took every fiber in your soul not to crawl back in bed and curl right up into him, especially when the cold air hit your skin and sent you shivering. Matt's body was practically a heater, but you stayed strong and waddled into the bathroom.

It was time to conquer the gruesome academic tasks at hand. You mentally hyped yourself up. You could do this.

ʚɞ

Nevermind. You had managed to fail two of your exams, score a low C on the third one, and you were late to one of your labs. Also, your phone died right when you made it onto campus, meaning you were unable to receive Matt's daily "good morning" text and any encouragement he would normally send throughout a busy school day. Your eyes were filled with tears as you trudged into the library with your books and laptop, ready to finish your to-do list and leave. However, once you sat down and opened a new document for your essay, you found yourself staring blankly at the screen. You hit a major case of writer's block. Whatever you were about to write was going to be hot garbage since it normally turned out that way when you forced yourself through a blank mind.

It took about three hours, but you finished the writing. It was choppy, a little incomprehensible at some points, and did not transition smoothly between paragraphs, but you were too tired to care. You saved the document and immediately closed the tab, swallowing the lump that was rising in your throat and rubbing your eyes to wipe away the tears you were fighting. All you had to do now was watch the lecture recording that your professor had posted and take notes on it.

You clicked on the video and began scribbling down words, mindlessly following along with the lesson. The video was an hour long and your hand was cramping by the end of it. Your notes were rushed and scrambled, but you couldn't find the energy to clean them up. You quickly shut your computer and messily packed your stuff, rushing out of the building. You were going home whether your notes were pretty or not. You were on the verge of a meltdown and that was the last thing the librarian wanted to see.

On your way to your car you noticed there were groups of students walking here and there, probably on their way to classes or lunch spots. However, you heard snickering as you passed a cluster, and you couldn't shake it off as you heard more chuckling when you passed another. You felt stupid and quickened your pace to your car, confused at what made you so funny. Once you had made it to your vehicle and sat inside, though, you realized that you had mascara smudged all over your cheeks. You had been rubbing your eyes way too aggressively while typing your essay and your face paid the consequences. Your dignity did, too.

The waterworks broke and you felt hot tears roll from your eyes and drop onto your lap. You quickly started the car and drove home, craving your boyfriend's comfort and nothing else.

To your dismay, you made it back to the house and found it empty. Matt had gone out with his brothers and you weren't able to hear about it because of your dead phone. You slammed your bag down and sprinted upstairs, locking yourself in your bathroom. You sat on the floor and felt yourself lose it as you began to sob, the weight of the day crashing down on you.

Everything was horrible. You were horrible. You weren't good enough to even pass two exams, let alone make a good grade on the one you did pass. Your essay was going to be disappointing for your professor and your notes were going to be hard to decipher later when you had to study them. How could someone be so dumb? Your head swarmed with deprecating thoughts as you pulled at your hair and cried. You couldn't feel anything but hatred for yourself. You disliked your body and your mind. You couldn't find one good thing about any of it.

Your throat began to close and your breathing became erratic. A familiar feeling started to form in your gut and you felt your legs start to numb. You were having a panic attack. You thought desperately of ways you'd calmed yourself down in the past, but it all lead back to one method.

Your secret.

The secret you'd promised Matt you wouldn't do again. You'd call him first and he'd help you avoid it. That was what was supposed to happen. If he was so open to helping you with it, why did you feel so ashamed the moment you needed him? It felt pathetic to go to him for help with this. You could handle yourself. One time wouldn't hurt, it'd be fast and you'd only do it to bring yourself down from your anxiety. You repeated this to yourself as you reached up and dug into your drawer until your hand reached the razor you shaved with. You shakily worked at it until it fell apart on the floor and you picked up the blade that came from it.

Just one time.

ʚɞ

You sat on the bed with your face in your hands as you rocked back and forth, huddled in one of Matt's biggest sweatshirts. The sound of a door closing downstairs caused you to snap your head up. Your stomach twisted in knots as you adjusted the sleeves on your arms nervously.

The bedroom door opened and Matt stepped in the room, smiling at you. His expression dropped to one of sympathy as he noticed the look of dismay you gave him. Your eyes were red and puffy and your cheeks were tinted pink, signaling that you'd obviously been crying.

He walked over to the side of the bed that you were sitting on and he stood in front of you, looking down at your face and taking your hands in his. He spoke quietly as if he could set you off like an alarm if he wasn't careful. "Hey sweet girl, how'd your tests and everything go today? I know you had a lot."

Thinking of everything you messed up that day made the tears resurface and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I um... I ruined all of it, Matt. I ruined it." A sob escaped your throat as you finished your sentence and your body started to tremble again.

Matt's eyes widened and he quickly wrapped his arms around your shoulders, giving you space to press yourself into his torso and hold onto him. He rubbed your upper back as you cried into him, looking down at you sadly. He spoke just above a whisper, "Oh don't talk like that, sweet thing. Don't say you ruined anything."

You shook your head and rose your voice. "I did! I did ruin everything! I failed two exams, Matt, two! And my essay... my essay was so bad, a third grader could've written it!" You hiccuped and gasped between your words and your tears soaked the fabric of his shirt.

"You didn't ruin anything. You showed up today, you put in work, and you weren't pleased with the results, but that's okay. What matters is that you tried. You gave your effort. That's all anyone needs from you, okay? Don't ever give yourself a hard time like this. You don't deserve it." He kneeled down in front of you and held your hands, grazing your knuckles with his thumbs. He made sure to keep eye contact with you as he spoke, and you started to feel okay while listening to his words of safety. After a few more minutes of pep talk, you stopped crying and even started giggling every now and then as Matt began to crack a few jokes to cheer you up.

His hand left your's and grazed up your arm, making you flinch in pain from your open wounds. He stopped and you watched his brows furrow as he studied your face, causing you to grow nervous. You felt sickness settle in your gut as you remembered the promise you'd broken an hour ago. You bit your lip anxiously as you watched realization spark in his eyes.

"Y/n, I need to roll up your sleeves, okay? Can I do that?" He whispered but you caught a quiver in his voice as he spoke. You sighed and nodded hesitantly. He was going to find out eventually.

He rolled up your sleeves and you felt your heart break at his expression. You had expected anger, but he had a look of guilt plastered on his face. He stood up and walked into the bathroom silently, and you listened to the sound of a drawer opening and water running. He came back with a damp washcloth and kneeled again, then began patting your arms and cleaning the blood on them.

You felt unsettled at his silence. He'd typically be comforting you and telling you that it was okay, but he wasn't saying anything this time. A minute went by and you began to get extremely worried. He finally looked up and your heart dropped. He was crying.

He continued to pat your arm with the cloth and you felt his hands begin to shake as he started speaking, his voice wavering and cracking. "I um.. Is- Is there anything I'm doing wrong? I just need to know what to do. I don't know how to get you to stop. It's not your fault, but I hate seeing you do this to yourself. You don't deserve it at all. What do I do? Please just tell me and I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want me to." He started crying as he rambled and his eyes were trained on your wounds.

His words struck your soul and you could feel your heart cracking every time a quiet sob fell from his lips. The fact that he felt like he was at fault for your habit threw you for a loop. Did you really mean this much to him? You stared at him and tears began to fall from your own eyes as you thought to yourself. All this time you had failed to see that you meant the world to him. You held such an important role in his life. He needed you, just like you needed him. How could you be so blind?

He loved you.

You grabbed his face and bent forward, crashing your lips into his. Your tears mixed and fell to the floor as he kissed back, dropping the towel. You pulled back and wiped his cheeks with your thumbs.

"Matt, you're doing everything and more. You have been perfect to me and you'll never stop being perfect. I promise you that I will work on bettering myself and I will never do this to myself again. I swear." You kissed his cheek when you finished and he smiled, whispering.

"And I promise that I'll be there with you every step of the way." He pressed his lips into your's again, guiding your chin with his index finger.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

-written by bubble 𐙚˚.⋆

⋆tags: @wiidfi0wer33 @sarosfilms @st7rnioioss @bernardsbendystraws @jetaimevous @fratbrochrisgf @aaliyahsturniolo @mattsturnswife @stonermattsgf

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