— matt sturniolo x fem! reader
— warnings: fluff, domestic dad! matt, family time, great outdoors... and thats it <3
in which!... you go fishing at the lake with Matt and your kids
The dock groaned in that familiar way—old boards weathered smooth from years of summers, smelling faintly of cedar and sun. You sat cross-legged near the edge, your bare toes just brushing the cool water. A dragonfly zipped past and landed on the railing, its wings catching the afternoon light.
Matt was already crouched down by the side, his backwards baseball cap shading his eyes, curls spilling out beneath it in lazy, sun-kissed waves. He was showing your youngest how to hold her tiny fishing rod, his voice low and steady, the kind of tone that made her listen without even realizing it.
“Keep your hands right here,” he murmured, wrapping his larger hand gently over hers. “And when you feel a little pull, don’t yank right away. Give it a second.”
Her bucket hat, pale blue and slightly too big, wobbled when she nodded seriously. “Okay, Daddy.”
Down the dock, your son was already in full fishing mode—knees bent, rod wedged between his thighs, brows furrowed in concentration. Every so often, he’d cast a quick look at Matt, waiting for a nod of approval before going back to his line.
You leaned back on your hands, watching the three of them with a smile you didn’t even try to hide. “You’re very convincing,” you teased.
Matt shot you a glance, lips twitching into a grin. “I’m a professional fish whisperer.”
“Oh yeah?” you said, tilting your head.
“Mm-hmm. It’s how I caught you, remember? Lured you right in.”
You laughed, giving his calf a playful nudge with your foot. “Pretty sure you just wouldn’t leave me alone until I said yes.”
“That too,” he admitted, eyes sparkling as he looked back at the water.
The wicker picnic basket between you creaked as you flipped open the lid—inside were juice boxes, crackers, grapes, and gummy worms. Half of the worms were for bait. The other half were for “Dad tax,” as Matt called it, snatching a couple whenever he thought you weren’t looking.
“Snack break?” you offered, holding out a juice box.
“Not for me. I’m busy training a future champion here,” he said, nodding toward your daughter, who had started whispering to her fishing line like she could sweet-talk the fish into biting.
The sun shifted in the sky, painting the lake in shades of gold and rose. You could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the trees along the shore, and somewhere farther down the dock, the creak of a rope against a moored boat. The whole world seemed to slow to match the rhythm of your little family.
Suddenly, your son’s voice cut through the stillness. “Dad! I think I’ve got one!”
Matt was on his feet in an instant, crouching beside him. “Alright, buddy, nice and easy… don’t let the line go slack.” His hand settled over your son’s, steadying him as they reeled together. For a second, you thought they might actually pull something up—but the hook came up empty, dripping water back into the lake.
Your son groaned in disappointment, but Matt just ruffled his hair. “That’s alright. The fish are just playing hard to get.”
“They’re mean,” your daughter huffed, flopping backward so her hat nearly covered her whole face.
Matt laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Nah, they’re shy. Probably intimidated by how cool you look in that hat.”
You reached for your phone and snapped a quick photo of them—Matt barefoot and tan, curls tossed by the breeze, the kids leaning against him like he was their anchor. You didn’t need the picture to remember this, but you knew you’d want it later.
For a while, you all just… stayed. Matt sat beside you, lines drifting in the water while the kids chatted about what they’d name their first fish. His arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you against his side.
“You happy?” he asked quietly.
You nodded, your cheek brushing the soft cotton of his shirt. “Yeah. This is perfect.”
He looked at you for a long moment, as if memorizing your face in this light. “Good,” he said softly. “Then let’s stay here a little longer.”
The sky deepened to a dusky pink, the lake reflecting the colors like a watercolor painting. Eventually, Matt reeled in both lines and stood, offering you his hand. The kids trailed behind, chattering sleepily.
By the time you reached the cabin, your daughter was dozing in Matt’s arms, her hat slipping sideways. He caught your eye over her head and smiled—tired, warm, and content.
“You know,” he murmured as you unlocked the door, “I think I did catch the best thing in the lake today.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to your temple before carrying your daughter inside.
And just like that, you knew you’d never forget this day.
immaqulate's notes ✎ᝰ.ᐟ.. since they're back in boston for the time being and matt loves the woods.. why now write about him in his fave setting? hope you liked it :)
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