butterflies ઇଓ matt sturniolo imagines

𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

matt was barely used to having a girl asleep in his bed, let alone that girl being you, so this entire situation was foreign to him from the start.

you'd slept over a few times before, and the first couple times he let you have his bed while he slept on the couch; eventually, one night blurred the lines when you were both watching a movie in his bed and fell asleep on top of each other, and then it became the new norm. he wasn't well-acquainted with how things like this work because he hasn't cuddled much more then his stuffed pug until you came along, but he's learning. he thinks you're a much better cuddler than mr. wrinkleton- that's for sure.
you seemed to sleep better in his room than your own. you have always had trouble sleeping, and something about having him beside you took all the stress off your mind. his presence was enough to distract you from the things that might keep you awake, and you slept like a baby every time; but that didn't stop always those disturbances from coming back to visit you in your dreams.

you have yet to have a nightmare at matt's house. but there's a first time for everything, unfortunately.

matt was slouched against the headboard, eyes transfixed on the television. you'd convinced him to watch adventure time with you (well, more like you put it on and told him not to complain) and you'd fallen asleep about halfway through, while he was completely invested after three episodes. he barely even noticed when you nodded off, because your head rested softly on his stomach and didn't move an inch. when he looked down at a break in the show, he felt his chest explode with nerves; you were sound asleep on him, little strands of hair splayed across your cheeks like ribbons. you looked so peaceful. he ran his fingers through your hair gently, being careful not to wake you. he never got much of a chance to admire you without getting caught- this was his opportunity.
the boy quickly pulled his hand from your hair when you let out a grunt, feeling guilty- he assumed he'd woken you up. but your eyes were still shut, and quite tightly, actually. your face began to screw up, and the corners of your mouth downturned to a soft frown; a few indistinct noises escaped your lips, and matt realized you must be dreaming. he chuckled to himself at the reality he was faced with. the prettiest girl i know is asleep on me, in my room, and she is dreaming. this is fucking ridiculous.

you stopped making noise after a minute or two, so matt decided to try and pay attention to the television again. it was difficult because he was so distracted by you, but he did his best. it was only when you started up again that he began to get worried.
you slowly rolled off of him and onto your side, and you grumbled something incoherent into the pillows. he watched as one leg kicked down in a lethargic motion, and tried desperately to swallow his laughter. he's never seen anyone be physical when having a dream. you kicked slowly like your leg was stuck in quicksand, and he felt so bad for laughing, but he kept watching to see what you'd do next. all of a sudden you paused, body falling so still you could've been dead; and then, his heart sank.

"mm..." you muttered.

he leaned over to get a better look at your face, and noticed the sheerness on your forehead. he wiped at it gently and discovered you were doused in a cold sweat.

"matt!" you called out. it wasn't loud like a yell- more quiet and strangled, and sad.

he didn't know if he should wake you up or not, but he didn't like the way his name sounded. you sounded scared. you sounded like you needed him. maybe he was overthinking it, or maybe he was just hearing what he wanted to hear, but once your hand started trembling where it clutched onto his sheets, he couldn't stop himself from acting on his intuition.
the boy nudged your shoulder softly and whispered, "hey, baby, wake up,"