nat 💫

masterlist. about me. rules. socials. au.

nat. writer. reader. yapper. Matt girl. pink lover. star gazer.

inbox: always open; requests: open

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ask me anything about my au! u can find the two posts and the moodboards on my page that’s pinned and under: au. !!🫶

“I do believe you’d like this dress, honey. I know it’s not your particular style, but trust me, you look stunning. Mr. Sturniolo won’t know what hit him.” Cherry smiled, as she zipped up the dress. “I’m not going to this party for him, Cherry. You ought to know that.” You defended yourself. “Why of course, honey. You’re not going to his father’s party that you’ve never had an interest in going before, just for his son. My mistake.” Cherry spoke, noting the irony of your actions.

“Hush.” You chuckle, “are you finished?” You turn your head. “Yes, and take a look at your pretty self in that mirror.” Cherry smiled, patting your back once she finished zipping your dress. You walked towards your mirror, making sure not to trip over the books lying all around the floor. You look at yourself, in a black dress. “Black..?” You turn, to look at the back of the dress. “Yes! Black, it’s the new pink, you know.” Cherry smiled, proud of her choice. “And who said that?” You ask. “Well..us, of course.” Cherry spoke up, referring to the article written in the magazine that the company put out for the season’s color.

“I can’t even wonder about people wearing black for anything other than funerals or mourning. It must be horrible..having black as one’s favorite color,” you complain. “Now, now, you look stunning. Focus on that, not the color.” Cherry assured. “I suppose it’s a nice dress. But..you were right, it’s not my style.” You sigh, flattening the dress with your palms. “Fine, what dress would you prefer?” Cherry sighed, noticing your displeasure. You smile, rushing to your spare closet, filled with your personal clothing, not clothing sent to you from luxury brands or designers.

“How important is this party?” You ask, looking through the colored closet. “Mr. Sturniolo will be there..” Cherry teased. “Would you stop bringing up Matthew?” You sigh. “My, my, first name basis with him? I never would’ve thought.” Cherry chuckled. “Just..answer the question.” You sighed. “It’s more exclusive than important, honey.” Cherry answered (finally). “Close your eyes, Cherry.” You smile, as you pull out a dress from your closet.

After a few minutes, you fixed up the dress, customizing it to your style with shoes, and jewelry. “Open up Cherry..” you sang. Cherry’s green eyes opened and saw you standing in a champagne colored, silk dress with elements of lavender and blue designed sewn onto it. As a layer of the dress layed an open cut fabric of lavender and indigo mixed with jewels and designs sewn onto it, and it held onto your body by a strap going around your neck. “My..I can’t believe this..it’s beautiful.” Cherry smiled. “Is this Dior..or perhaps Marc Jacob’s..no, no..it’s Chanel isn’t it? I can just tell.” Cherry chuckled. “Actually..it’s from a designer called Beacon’s Closet.” You smile, twirling in the dress. “It’s from the..thrift..?” Cherry’s eyebrows raised. “Mhm! Isn’t it lovely?” You smile. Cherry reached in her pocket, and took out her handheld hand sanitizer. “Now! Don’t be dramatic, Cherry. It’s perfectly clean..! It doesn’t have any diseases.” You frowned.

“Who knows who wore that dress, honey!” Cherry tried to reason. “Someone fashionable and wonderful did.” You huffed. “If you’re wearing..that, let me at least do your hair and makeup.” Cherry insisted. “How are you getting there anyways? There’s no trains at this hour, getting a taxi at this point at the day is the most hassle you might face..and that dress might not last.” Cherry shot at the dress once more. “Someone is driving me..” you explained, putting on your gloves. “And this someone..?” Cherry smirked. “If you must know..Matthew offered to take me. And this is not anything more than him taking me to the party.” You defended before the accusations would come. “If you insist.” Cherry chuckled, fluffing the eyeshadow on your eyes.

Cherry finished your look, and you stood up, grabbing your coat from the coathanger, Cherry noticed the peculiar design that was etched onto the wood, little cats. You walked out the oak front door, and Cherry noticed the rain. “Ah! Honey, wait!” Cherry grabbed her umbrella and handed it to you. “Oh! Thank you, Cherry.” You smile, opening the umbrella as the crystal drops hit around you, like the clouds were crying. But, you didn’t think of it as tears of sadness..but instead tears of joy.

The sound of door closing snapped you out of your daydream of the clouds and the emotion type of their tears. “My, doll..don’t you look..don’t you look like the most interesting girl in New York.” Matt spoke up, removing his sunglasses. Why he wore sunglasses when the sun was not out, you’d never know. “Thank you Matthew..” you smile softly, his words affecting you more than you thought they did. “Charlotte..pleasure to see you outside of the hustle and bustle of the business.” Matt said, his charming smile on display. Matt could never remember anyone’s names, always said: once they made the front page for something important, he would. But, he never forgot your name, how could he, he always thought.

“Cherry, sir.” Cherry said, correcting him. “No thank you..I ate before I got here, the food there is always awful.” Matt shrugged it off. “I..” Cherry was going to correct him once more, but shook her head as she walked back inside your cottage.

“You ready..doll?” He smirked, holding out his arm like a prince. You chuckle, “mhm..” you smile.

As you entered the car, that you believed to be a Porsche, you felt his hand on your lower back. You turn to glance at him, and he looked to you. There was a moment of silence that filled the air you both were in. It was broken when he patted where his hand was and you climbed into the car.

There you were, trying to convince yourself how ridiculous you were being. Maybe you were coming down with something..something that’s making your brain all fuzzy..maybe not something..but someone.

Matthew Sturniolo. You’d seen his name and his picture among the covers of magazines that you worked hard to see yourself on. The only reason he was in these magazines was to grab young buyers‘ attention to the stands to make the money roll in. His father knew the game he was playing..and he was winning.

Matt was on the set, it was uncommon for him to be there. The makeup artists, photographers, and designers were on edge. Of course they were, the son of the man who gave them their jobs was there. One wrong move, and off they go to the unemployment office. It was hard to come across taxis, even harder to come across jobs in New York, especially jobs in their department, the modeling department. If it was difficult for the technical and makeup crew to find jobs, it had to be harder for the actual models.

All of the girls on set fled to Matt, wanting their chance to shoot their shot. Each girl, forgetting what stage of preparation they were in,swarmed him like a bee to honey. Matt looked around him, he only saw girls in rollers, in unblended makeup, dresses unzipped, and only in white silk robes. There was no sense of a clear conversation, each girl trying to introduce themselves, flirt, or complement him. All of the words created a jumbled sentence that made no sense of its own, and could hardly be deciphered to match each girls’ conversation.

There you were, stuck in traffic for the third time this week. You stared out the rain glassed window of the taxi to the busy streets of downtown New York. You saw apartments, condos, and small homes fill the space, leaving but crowded sidewalks, and busy roads. You thought about buying a home here, ‘it’d be easier to get to work’ you thought as you were playing with the fringe of your plaid patterned scarf. “Is there any way to merge to a different street?” You ask the man with a fedora on who you learned was named: Caleb. “Nope..street’s jammed. Damn, construction.” Caleb spoke up, holding the steering wheel.

“Is there any way to merge with a 50 dollar bill in your possession?” You ask again, pulling out your red leather wallet, holding in your hand a crisp bill. “Hm..now that I think about it, there’s a free space right there..that can lead me to 5th.” Caleb smirked in the mirror above, and saw your amused face. “Get me there, and this bill has your name on it.” You chuckle softly, using the bill to seduce him. “Pleasure doing business with you..Miss?” Caleb smirked, waiting for your name. “You’ll know my name soon enough..get a Vogue magazine with this bill..and you’ll know who paid for it.” You smile softly, your blackberry juice colored lips lifted into a small smile.

50 dollars was good motivation, you made sure to keep that in mind. You handed Caleb your bill and rushed into the 79 level building covered in windows from the outside. As you entered the 52nd floor, you were met with the familiar feeling of work. The Crew rushed around with items to beautify the girls. You found your chair, and your stylist, Cherry. “You’re late.” Cherry scolded, removing your mulberry colored jacket. “I know..traffic was a bitch.” You sigh, removing your clips and jewelry. “What have I said about your lipstick, honey?” Cherry sighed. “That it washes me out.” You mock her tone. “Very good, at least your memory is up to par.” Cherry sighed, you chuckled. “What’s with all the chaos? It’s more than usual.” You ask, as Cherry started to split your hair into sections.

“Matthew Sturniolo is here.” Cherry whispered. “Matthew?!” You exclaim, definitely surprised. “Mhm..who knows what he wants. Last time he was here..ooh, it was horrid.” Cherry tsked. The last thing Matt was here, 30 workers lost their jobs, and 7 models had to find a new company. “I know..I heard. But..he can’t be that horrible.” You tried to look at the bright side, as Cherry started rolling your hair. “Sure honey..I’m glad to know that there's still positivity in the workplace.” Cherry cracked a joke.

“Conner!” A masculine voice rang out. You spotted a pair of hands grab at your mulberry coat that was hung up. “Excuse me.” You spoke up, not looking to see who grabbed it. Cherry smacked your shoulder, and you saw it was Matt who grabbed it. “Conner! Find out whose this is, and I need one in black immediately.” Matt commanded his assistant. “Yes sir..!” The ginger haired man, who you assumed was Conner, spoke up, writing down. “Excuse me, Mr. Sturniolo, that’s my coat. And I’d be willing to let you know where I bought it, if you treated the people you worked with, with a little respect.” You spoke in determination. Matt turned his head, and saw who was speaking to him in such a tone.

“And who are you?” He asked, slightly amused. “Y/N L/N, sir.” You spoke with confidence, even though you fret for your job. “Nice to meet you..doll.” He spoke with a nickname. “I’d introduce myself..but you know who I am.” He smirked, fixing his black suit. “Yes..I do.” You nodded, as Cherry continued to fix the rollers in your hair.

“Hm..well..I’ll have Conner set up an arrangement for me and you..and we’ll talk about where you found this coat.” He smirked, with insinuations coating his words like syrup coating pastries. “Okay then..sounds lovely.” You nodded. Matt smirked, and took you in one last time before walking off. You felt your heart race at the interaction, confused at whether it was the nerves of the interaction or if it beated this fast for a different reason, for a reason consisting of four letters.

“I’ve never seen him say that to anyone..and I’ve worked here for 7 years.” Cherry smiled, amused heavily by what she witnessed. “Maybe..he’s not so horrid.” You said, hoping your words were true.

divider creds: @anitalenia

!model reader x !rich boy Matt

meet..model! reader

meet…!rich boy Matt

a/n: majority of reader’s lines were actual comments from my mom to me! 😭 so be nice! LMAO!

a/n 2: im always open to talk Harry Potter in my asks if anyone is open!

you had told Matt that you don’t remember the last 3 Harry Potter movies very well. He immediately jumped at the fact that he has an excuse to watch the films for the 300th time.

“you gotta watch from the beginning..I mean otherwise you’re just gonna be confused, doll.” Matt explained, as you laid down on his navy blue pillow. “but..I don’t need to. I remember the others good enough.” you whined. Matt accepted, knowing that you would be too stubborn now to admit.

Matt had bargained with you to at least start from the 4th film. You snuggled close to him as the film started. You glanced to see Matt engulfed in the cinematic universe.

As the movie hit the 30 minute mark, and the Death Eaters invaded the Quidditch World Cup Camping grounds, you asked “are those the marauders?” Matt looked at you blankly. “Doll..” he stifled a giggle at your cluelessness. “Those..uhm..are the deatheaters, doll.” Matt corrected gently. You nodded in understanding.

The movie continued, and before every part that explained what was happened, you would ask what was happening or who was that. Matt would silently gesture for you to watch and listen closely to the film.

“Ooh! This is the part with the ball!” You said, excited. Matt was glad you at least so far remembered one part of the film. “This is where Ron asks Hermione..and they kiss.” You smile, completely wrong. Matt was silent, silenced by your completely wrong answer. “Doll..the exact opposite happens, I fear..” he said, rubbing your hip. “Oh..” you said, nodding in acknowledgment.

Matt chuckled softly. “Not funny!” You frown, hiding a small grin. Once the movie ended, you sat there silent, as he turned off the TV. “Maybe I should’ve listened.” You spoke up.

“What do you mean doll?” Matt asked, turning to face you. “About watching from the beginning.” you mutter, hating admitting that Matt was right. Matt wore a small smirk, chuckling. “Hm..well darling I’m always right.” He chuckled, leaving a soft kiss on your neck.

“Time for a movie marathon..isn’t it, doll?” he whispered, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck.

“..time for a movie marathon..” you hum in agreement.

merry Christmas and happy holidays to all the wonderful ppl in this community and to anyone who comes across this post!! I love you all and hope you spend this day with loved ones or doing what you do love!! <33

Matt was the biggest sweetheart ever. He never liked to see you upset. Especially when you made something especially for him. You loved to cook and bake, the only problem was that..you weren’t very good at it. Scratch that, you were horrible. Matt always tasted the treats or food you’d make (by force).

“oh..uhm..wow love..this is..*cough* great..!” he said, through dry mouth. the lies made his food almost taste better than the food itself. “Oh! You think so? I tried a new recipe! Instead of olive oil..I used vegetable oil..” you explained. “oh..really?” he chuckled, disguising the cough that came from the dryness. He was actually surprised, not because it was a good exchange, because this had to be driest cookie he ever had.

one day, you were baking gingerbread cookies for a Holiday party. Matt was anxious, I mean what was he supposed to do when everyone at party doesn’t eat the cookies or throws them out? He knows you’ll then know he was lying to you. But..does it really count if it was lie to make you happy? Thoughts raced through his head.

You brought the cookies to the party, and plated them all pretty. You saw how people avoided the plate, or if they grabbed one and took a bite, they would wrap into a napkin and throw it away, or just toss it, or laugh at it. It stung your poor baker heart. Matt noticed your pouty disposition. “You okay love?” He asked softly. “no one likes my cookies..” you whimpered. “Oh..lovey..” he wrapped you into a hug.

you took a piece of one of your cookies and took a bite. “ew!” you exclaimed, tasting and understanding why this was the reaction majority had to your cookies. “oh my goodness..these are so bad?!” you coughed. Matt chuckled. “You like these?” You ask Matt incredulously. “Uhm..love..not exactly..” he grinned, trying to look as innocent as a guilty person could be. “Matthew Bernard Sturniolo..” you threatened, squinting your eyes in a menacing way. It looked like when a bunny tried to look scary.

“…yes love?” he asked, closing his eyes, hoping that the anger in your voice would disappear if he just couldn’t see it. “have you been lying to me for 7 months about my food creation?” you question, you cross your arms. “yes..but it was only to keep you happy..please believe me love?” he asked, squeezing your hip. “awww..that’s so sweet..! kinda evil..but sweet!” you smile, finding humor in the situation.

“you know..I try” Matt joked, kissing your cheek. “hm..my poor cookies are a catastrophe..” you joked, smiling softly.

“a christmas cookie catastrophe” Matt smiled.

dividers by: the amazing @saradika-graphics

a/n: should I make a taglist??

a/n 2: gimme some requests!! <33

warnings: some smut, receiving fem! oral

Thanksgiving Eve, you were prepping the food because you were self volunteered by your family to prepare the dinner. Your lucky day..this is exactly how you want to spend your Wednesday, in the kitchen, with sore arms. You were lucky that Chris, your boyfriend was like 5 year old, always wanting to be where you are and help anyway he can.

But, due to his lack of cooking abilities, you had him cutting, mashing, and mixing most of time. “lemme do the potatoes..!” he whined for the forty-seventh time in the past 10 minutes. “No, Christopher..” you repeated in a motherly tone. “Pretty please..” he pleaded. “Christopher.” You said blankly, in a tone much different than the last. Chris backed off, not wanting to face your wrath right now.

Thanksgiving Night arrived, and you were fixing the table. You placed down the gold lace placemats, and Chris was walking to the fridge to get a Pepsi. “Christopher, back away from that fridge..NOW.” You shot, not even having to turn your head to know he was going for a soda. He whined. “I bought some only for dinner. So, you have to wait.” You scolded. He sighed, and then caught glimpse of what you wearing. A little black dress, it was short, reached your upper thigh, and you wore heels. Your hair was nicely done, curled for the special evening.

Safe to say..he was turned on. It seemed like he appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist which over your dress you wore a cute apron. He loved it, it was like his own Donna Reed. “hm..you look so hot..” Chris muttered in your ear. You giggle, looking at him. “hm..I do?” you said. “very much so..don’t you’d feel it..?” he whispered, leaving soft kisses on your collarbone, grinding his boner in your ass. You gasp softly.

An hour before guests were supposed to arrive, Chris found himself between your legs on the kitchen counter. He shoved up your dress, and quickly exposed you, making out with a different pair of lips. You moan, back arching. He had the mouth of a sex god, always bringing up to the third dimension. The only sound that filled the house was the clock clicking, the minutes to the next hour ticking down, like an alarm, your moans, his slurping. The scent that filled the house was the turkey in the oven.

“Close..close..close” you repeated like a mantra.

as the guests arrived, they sat around the decorated table, and your mother noticed that Chris didn’t have a plate. “You not hungry, sweetie?” She asked, almost offering to make him a plate. “Not hungry, actually.” he smiled politely.

“Did you already eat?” She asked, looking at the two of you.

“Oh yes..oh yes I did.” He smirked, looking at you.

“Feast for one..”

a/n: wanted to get a Thanksgiving thing out! first time sorta writing smut so it’s not very good, sorry!

dividers by the lovely @strangergraphics