Your Honor Shes Not Scary She's Just A Sweet Little Bear Cub

THIS edit is my Roman Empire 🙈🙈

manifesting a pretty masc girlfriend that plays guitar

i'm getting a D in AP bio right now

hiiiii wyddddd ??

laying in my bed while I have like 7 missing assignments

BITCH IM DEAD

THE ARM??? THE HAIR!!?? THE EYES!?? THE SHIRT!!??

SLUUUUT

✮ TALKING TO THE MOON

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader [ past tense ]

synopsis: in which it’s been a year since you last stepped foot in boston after the devastating events of the last year, but as the moon grows full, you find yourself having a peaceful conversation with it.

warnings: swearing, lots of crying, angst with absolutely no comfort, major character death, minor mention of someone shooting up a gas station, mentions of puke+bile, death of a pet.

THIRD PERSON POV

it’s been exactly a year since you’ve been back in boston.

twelve months. fifty two weeks. three hundred sixty five days. eight thousand seven hundred sixty hours. five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, since you’ve been back home.

the last year has been by far the worst year of your life. losing the love of your life, your very best friend was something you’d never wish on anyone. when you got the call from nick that night, his hysterical sobs hardly understandable, your heart dropped. matt had been at the wrong place, at the wrong time as someone shot up the 7/11 that matt was at on the way home from your place. when nick finally took a moment to breathe and explain the situation, your entire world stopped spinning for a moment, and the screaming sob that ripped through your body was something that nick needed professional help to forget. it was a sound that still haunts him to this day.

after his funeral, you up and left town, unable to live in a city that matt loved without him by your side, knowing that he was never returning. you, and chris fought a lot the few weeks that you kept in contact with his brothers for, chris tried so hard to blame you. saying that if you had just told matt to stay at yours a little bit longer, he’d still be alive. but you tried to explain that matt wanted to go home because it was jimmy’s birthday the next day and all the triplets wanted to make their dad breakfast.

no matter how the story was spun, one of you kept pointing the finger at the other. but logically, it no one’s fault except for the man that took matt’s life, and the three of you came to terms on thing, you were thankful the man was rotting behind bars.

but you’ve been in therapy for a year, and your therapist suggested taking a trip back home in attempt to heal some of the residual anger and pain lingering in your heart and clinging to your soul. you had begged her to help you find peace with the situation and this was her only solution. and after fighting it for three sessions, you finally agreed to return to boston on his anniversary, knowing his entire family would be home, and you wanted to make amends for leaving for abruptly.

as you stepped onto the road in front of the sturniolo residence, you felt your heart hammering in your chest, making you feel like you were two seconds away from vomiting up everything in your system. you took a seat on the curb, taking a moment to breathe as you looked at the cars lining their driveway and the street across from you, knowing they were having a memorial for matt. you had been invited but you hasn’t responded, the invitation is what caused your most recent mental spiral. sighing, you pulled out your pack of cigarettes, a habit that you had kicked when you and matt got together, but had picked back up about a month after leaving. as you lit it, you watched the clouds slowly shift, your head snapping as you heard footsteps behind you.

as chris steps outside the front door to grab something from the car, he sees a figure sitting on the curb, and despite your hair being much shorter and much lighter than he remembers, he knows it’s you. especially as he hears you flick your lighter. and he’s fighting a battle within himself, one side telling him to ignore you due all the pent up anger and blame he holds against you, but the more understanding side of him wins. he knows you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t trying to make up for leaving, and he knows you’re hurting too. so without so much as a second thought, he begins to step toward you.

“hey kid, why the fuck are you sitting out here?” chris asks, taking a seat beside you, watching you as you fight back tears, your posture stiff and rigid, as if you were trying to make yourself appear put together, as if you were sinking in on yourself.

“i’m terrified to go in there and not see him.” you whisper, your shoulders falling as you take a drag of your cigarette, chris’ arm wrapping around your shoulders as he nods, understanding what you’re feeling.

“that’s how i felt this morning. it hurt to go in there and not see him hugging mom and dad. i was also terrified to see you, i know matt is yelling at me right now for not being there for you and being such a jackass to you.” chris chuckling, but it sounds more like he was clearing his throat, the sound was broken and throaty as he holds back his tears.

“he’s probably yelling at me too for leaving and not letting you guys back in.” you laugh back, your head on chris’ shoulder, an unspoken apology being shared between you two as you lift your head upon feeling his shoulder shake. as you look at him, your heart breaks all over again at the sight of him sobbing. you toss your cigarette to the ground before pulling chris into a hug,

“i fucking miss him, y/n.” he sobs, his hands fisting the back of your shirt between his knuckles as you rub his back, your cheek pressed against the side of his head as you nod, trying to some form of comfort, despite how weak it’d sound.

“i know chris, i miss him every day.” you hum, unable to find something to say to soothe the man crumbling in your arms, you want to comfort him, to console him, but it’s so hard when you can’t console yourself.

“let’s go in, i know mom will be grateful to see you.” chris whispers as he stands up, his hand outstretched as you link yours in it, your worries rising to the surface like bile as you nod.

your first step into the house is tentative and timid, the house feels empty without matt’s laugh and voice ringing and echoing throughout it. and you want to crumble to your feet, being back here feels impossibly difficult to go through with. but you’re finally here, and that’s a big first step. and as you take careful steps towards the heart of the home, you feel something warm stirring in your chest, and it feels a bit harrowing too, but you want to see his parents, to comfort them and tell them you’re sorry for leaving.

but the guilt is eating away at you and so you’re ready to turn back as chris steps ahead of you, but you feel a warm sensation on your lower back and you know it’s matt guiding you deeper into the home, just like he did the first time he brought you home. as you round the corner, the first pair of eye you meet belong to nick, and a soft gasp is heard as mary-lou turns around, and she’s quick to tear up as you rush toward her, barreling into her arms.

“oh, dear.” she whispers as you sob in her arms, your body completely wracked with guilt and regret as she holds you.

“i’m s-so sorry for l-leaving, it was too hard and i know that s-sounds selfish because you’re going through the same pain as me, i-if not more.” you hiccup and blubber, trying your damnedest to get the apology out as she rubs your arm, her soft but heartbroken smile showing that she understand what you’re trying to convey.

“it’s okay hon, everyone deals with grief in their own way. some bottle it up and some try to run away from it. but you’re here now and that’s all i can ask for.” she murmurs as you nod, wiping your eyes as you walk to nick, pulling him into a physically silent hug, but the two of you share an understanding that transcends the need for verbal communication. and as you look around the room, you see everyone but jimmy. and deep down, you know where he is.

so with a wordless exit, you turn around and take the steps slowly, trying so hard to prepare yourself to open matt’s door. and you almost choose not to, but you know you need to talk to jimmy. so with a shaky hand, you turn the knob and open the door to matt’s room, and the smells immediately rips a new wave of tears through as you spit his dad holding mister wrinkleton to his heart with one hand, the other holding his head as his body shakes and you’re quick to sit beside matt’s father, raising your hand to his shoulder as he lifts his head, shock glinting in his eyes as you smile sadly.

just like matt, you were closer to jimmy than mary-lou. jimmy reminded you a lot of your late grandfather so you took a quick love to the man that matt admired with everything in him.

“i didn’t think you were coming.” jimmy hums, standing up and pulling you into a hug.

“i had to. it’s what matt would want.” you sigh.

“i just cant believe my boy is gone. every day i wake up and think he’s gonna call me and then the realization sets in and my heart breaks all over again, and the pain renews itself. it’s a battle to get out of bed after i remember everything. and for a moment, i think that at least if my boy is gone, i have you to call me, but that never happens either. and it feels like i’m living on autopilot these days.” jimmy sobs, and the crack splitting your heart in two feels impossibly bigger.

“i’m so sorry jimmy. i know i should’ve called, but i was so angry at the world. at the fucking piece of shit that ripped matt from me, from us, from this world. and i let my anger consume me. and that’s why i left. and i wiped every memory and reminder of boston out of my mind because it hurt so fucking much.” you whisper, and when jimmy pats your back silently, you know the appreciation and acceptance of your apology is there. and suddenly you’re left alone in matt’s room. and for the first time today, you stop crying out of pain and anger, but rather fondness. because being in his room feels peaceful. it’s the only thing that hasn’t changed since his passing. and it’s like for a moment, he’s okay, he’s alive, and he’ll be stumbling in the door, too focused on his phone or the conversation he’s in the middle of, with a big smile on his face.

but then you’re thrown back to the present, and you’re reminded that it hasn’t changed because matt hasn’t stepped foot in this room in a year. and he never will again. and it’s too hard for his parents to spend longer than five minutes in here without their hearts breaking over and over again. and you’re dropping to your knees, sobbing as quietly as possible. because matt will never be yours again. he’ll never hug, kiss, or touch you lovingly again. he will never laugh at your stupid jokes, or yell at his brothers again. and that rips your heart from your chest in one ruthless, swift tug.

you don’t know how much time passes, but when you lift yourself off the floor and head down the stairs to look out the window, the moon is high. and you walk out the door, standing on the front steps, silently admiring the moon. and for a split second, you feel warm arms winding around your shoulders, and you know matt is there visiting as quickly as he can, and as you look to the moon again, you take a deep breath,

“hey baby, i don’t know if you can hear me from wherever you are, but i hope you’re at peace, and i hope you’re safe, and i hope trevor is with you. i’m sorry i wasn’t around to say goodbye to trevor, it was just another piece of you that i would’ve had to say goodbye to and that would’ve been too hard at the time. but i miss you, a lot. we all do. but i made up with chris, i know you were pissed that him and i were fighting, given the fact that he was my best friend. but we’re okay now, and i think that we’ll be okay as long as we stop fighting. i love you matt. visit me soon, okay?”

taglist: @worldlxvlys @vanteguccir @sturnioloshacker @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @raysmayhem-72 @meanttomeet @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @sturnifyed @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @bambi-slxt @nickssidewitch @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3 @christopherswife777 @certified-chrisgirl @faeriedst @bernardsbendystraws @mattscoquette @imwetforyourmom @sturnioz @pearlzier @luverboychris @pettydollie

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I- No actually it's better I say nothing

forced to go to the beach with my family sober born to sunbathe topless with my butch a blunt and endless margaritas

SIGHHHHHH

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐭 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 . . . you’re typically a straight a student, thanks to your relationship with your professor. but one day he randomly fails you and you find a way to bump up your grade.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mature language, dom!matt, smut — oral (male receiving) — (read at your own risk)

a grin grows on your face as you watch your professor slowly make his way towards where you’re sitting, passing out the graded papers to your fellow students.

see, the reason you’re so excited to receive your assignment back is because you just know you’re getting an a+. the reason for it may be unethical, but regardless it keeps your grades up.

so what if you’re secretly hooking up with professor sturniolo, he’s hot, experienced and you never get lower than an a so it’s a win-win situation.

however, as he finally stops at your desk, harshly placing the paper on your desk, your face immediately drops at the red, large circled F. you look up at him, and he doesn’t even give you a sneaky glance with his eyes that are normally mixed with desire and hunger for you.

he passes by quickly, and you just fold your arms at the lack of touch he’d normally give you whenever he walks by your desk. your glossy upper lip lifts into a sneer at the sight of the failed paper even though you didn’t really put any effort into it, just expecting him to pass you.

you just sigh, knowing internally that you’re going to immediately question him and his odd behavior after class.

-‘๑’-

the rest of english passes by pretty quick, only filled with the annoying chatter of the other students filling your ears. you watch as everyone rushes out the classroom to their next period, but you stay seated until the class is empty.

but professor sturniolo doesn’t realize you’re still lingering until he looks up and notices you with your arms folded at your desk. his face crinkles with confusion as he takes a seat on his chair, picking up other papers that desperately need to be graded.

“can i help you?” he questions, breaking the silence as his gaze flickers between you sat at the desk in front of him then back to his task.

you grow irritated towards how oblivious he’s acting, harshly pushing your chair out from underneath the wooden desk with the paper tightly gripped in your hand. you practically storm over to your desk as if there’s a gloomy cloud above your head, your eyebrows furrowed.

once you reach his desk, you violently slam your graded paper in front of you, not shifting your gaze away from him. your eyes are glued to your professor, anger and frustration coursing through your veins. “you failed me,” you hiss, watching his every move.

he adjusts his glasses, pulling them to the tip of his nose, picking up the paper. “your writing is sloppy,” he blankly states, pushing it to the side.

you tilt your head at his shift in behavior, not used to him being honest about your efforts in class. “you never fail me,” you refer to every single a+ he’s given you. “we fuck and you pass me, that’s been our deal for months so my parents don’t get onto me.”

“like i said, your writing is sloppy,” he repeats, leaning back in his seat. he folds his arms, looking up at your through his glasses. “normally you at least put effort into it, yet this time it’s probably the worst fuckingthing i’ve ever read.”

your face flickers with frustration towards how effortlessly those words leave his mouth. yes, he’s not wrong with saying that because for the first time, you didn’t even try with the assignment but it doesn’t mean he should back out of the arrangement.

“fuck you matt,” you seethe and the use of his first name makes him immediately stand up. he shuffles around his desk, now standing right in front of you. you look up at him through your lashes, knowing that it’s his weakness.

“fuck me?” he tilts his head, a certain look in his eyes. that same look he gives you to show when he’s fueling with the desire of being close to you. “you know it’s mister sturniolo to you.”

you’d be lying if you said this certain dominance wasn’t turning you on, feeling the wetness pool between your legs. you tug on your pleated skirt, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“you don’t wanna fail me mister sturniolo,” you tilt your head and your hand reaches for his hair, fixing his middle part. “do you, sir?” your voice is sweet like honey, the words rolling off your tongue so easily.

he places his hand on the desk next to him, leaning on it for support. “i really don’t, so you should give me a reason why i shouldn’t,” a devilish grin appears on his face and you instantly know how you’re about to get your grade up.

now fully leaning against his desk, he cups your jaw with his hand, the pad of his thumb dragging across your bottom lip. your lips part slightly, giving him the opportunity for you to wrap your lips around his thumb. you do exactly that, not breaking eye contact with your professor as he pushes it deeper inside every second.

your tongue swirls around it, feeling the coldness of his ring inside of your mouth. it clashes with your teeth as he speeds up his movements, moving it inside and out. “fuck…” he drags out, his eyes sparkling with hunger and admiration towards how good you look.

matt pulls his finger out, causing a pop sound to enter the class and he places his hands on your shoulders. “you gonna be a good girl and get your grade up?” he questions through a smirk and you nod, watching his expression soften as he gently pushes you down to your knees.

your skin comes in contact with the wooden floor, hissing slightly at the hard and cold material. your lashes flutter as he looks down at you, taking his glasses off placing them on the desk. “go on then,” he says and you rapidly nod your head.

now your attention is glued to the erection vo ible through his pants, only growing by the second. you unzip them, tugging at his pants and his boxers; you pull them down at the same time.

you chew on your bottom lip, taking the base of his cock into your hands, slowly pumping at it. he twitches at your gentle movements, his lips parting at the familiar sight of you on your knees for him.

you straighten your posture fully, giving yourself the opportunity to drag your tongue against his veiny, throbbing cock, then his tip. a trail of saliva is left because of your movements and you listen to the hums of approval leaving matt’s lips.

without even thinking twice, you wrap your lips around his member, your hand remaining on the base of it. you bob your head slowly and matt quietly whimpers, “oh my fuck,” he groans and you resist the rush to smile at how easy it is to make him feel so good.

you continue to bob your head, twisting your hand at the same time. you feel the large amount of saliva building up inside of your mouth as you continue to move, pulling away to take a breath and letting the dribble fall down your chin before you quickly wrap your lips back around his cock, bobbing your head again.

“fuck, i—just like that, fuck,” he jumbles up his words, letting a moan escape from his lips. “you’re doing s-so good, keep going baby,” he praises as you speed up your movements.

your cheeks hollow and you suck faster, ignoring the spit dripping down your fingers and falling onto your exposed legs. “you’re amazing,” he praises you again and you feel your cheeks heat up.

matt feels his stomach clench, only moments away from reaching his release. his hand finds its way behind your head, pushing you down while taking strands of your hair between his fingers and you gag as your nose comes in contact with his pelvic bone.

“i’m—fuck…” he groans, implying that he’s about to reach his climax.

you continue at the pace you’re at, only slowing down once you feel a familiar liquid shooting into the back of your throat. you pull away, a string of saliva connecting from his tip to your plump lips. you wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb, looking up at him and the surprised expression plastered across his face.

matt’s chest heaves, looking down at you with a grin of satisfaction. “you’re fucking perfect,” he says, reaching for a pen as well as your paper.

he rotates his body slightly, giving him space to write something on it. you watch as he scribbles something out, then writing something new. after he finishes, he passes it to you and a dimpled-smile grows on your face.

A+ for my best student :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 — @anniessocean @mattspleasure @bugeyedgrl @chrissturniolosbiggestslut

If I had friends...this is how I would do this trend.

The Slytherin boys are pretty but…

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…Mattheo is pretty like a warm fireplace

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…Draco is pretty like sunrays in the forest

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…Blaise is pretty like stars in the clear sky

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…Theodore is pretty like fog and rain

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…Lorenzo is pretty like a field full of flowers

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…Tom is pretty like silver jewelry

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…Regulus is pretty like wild waves

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