tiffsturns

•19. british. playing piano. reading. drawing. journalling. rom-coms. autumn. billie eilish. role model. eminem. sabrina carpenter. mac miller. doja cat. sims 4. animal lover. robert pattinson lover. matt girl. certified procrastinator. pee lover. hopeless romantic. terrible baby fever.

RULES TAGLIST MATTHEW STURNIOLO

a/n: wrote this as a little comeback to see if i’ve lost the ability to write before i go back to writing step by step

“where the fuck are they?” matt mutters whilst rifling through his closet dramatically, throwing clothes after clothes after clothes on top of me laying on his bed. the frustration in his voice is sharp enough to cut the air. “where the hell-? they were literally right there!”

"try the back of your closet?" i suggest exasperatedly, rolling onto my side and propping my chin on my hand.

his response is a tired groan like i just told him to run a marathon. "they're not gonna be ther- ...oh."

i roll my eyes and huff as he sheepishly pulls out his black jeans from exactly where i said. of course that's where they were. he's always quick to whine and complain about losing shit without looking properly.

suddenly, a familiar scent drifts through the room and coats my nostrils. it's sweet yet sharp at the same time, smells exactly how you'd expect a hot summers day to smell. it fills the air so strongly that it is almost visible, and it pulls my attention away from my phone.

"what is that smell?" i ask, sitting up and scrunching my nose just to breathe it in one last time.

matt finally turns to face me, rubbing his glossy lips together before pocketing something. "oh, space camp. i must've left it in my pocket from last week."

realisation floods through me. i should have known, nick's chapstick brand always has a tendency to smell absolutely heavenly. "that smells insane, what flavour?"

he hesitates for a second, something unreadable flickering across his face, like a thought forming mid air. then, his lips twitch up in a sly smirk.

“why don’t you come here and have a taste?”

“god you’re so corny.” i scoff, though my stomach instantly does a backflip and my fingers dig into the bedsheets.

matt raises an eyebrow, thumb hovering over his bottom lip tauntingly. “oh, so you don’t want to?”

god, the challenge in his voice is stupidly effective. before i know it i’m already stood right in front of him, a gentle flush creeping up my cheeks. “i didn’t say that.”

before i can think, his lips press against mine with a sweet gentleness which makes me dizzy. his digits, still a little wrinkly from the shower, caress my face like i’m delicate.

the taste is instant, sugary with a hint of citrusy tartness. pink lemonade. the flavour makes the kiss even more addictive than usual, and it leaves me wondering why we haven’t tried this before.

i feel a warm hand slide under my shirt, pressing me impossibly close. i respond by hooking my fingers around his belt buckle, forcing his hips into mine which causes a grunt to escape him.

when we finally pull apart, i lick the last trace of chapstick off my lips whilst gasping for air. “pink lemonade.?”

matt’s eyebrows raise, in slight surprise and satisfaction that i actually got it right. “ding ding, impressive.”

he pulls the chapstick out of his back pocket and inspects it with a sly face. her leans against the closet and rolls it through his fingers like a cigarette. “y’ know, we could make this into a whole taste testing situation. nick’s got like- 15 other flavours.”

“you’re ridiculous.” i snort and swipe the chapstick out his hand. but i’d be lying if i said i i didn’t wanna do that.

matthew sturniolo