mattsobvimyfav

[mattsobvimyfav]

Stanford (conrad fisher)

No one really cared when I got into Stanford.

I mean, they said the right words ‘congratulations, you’re incredible, we’re so proud of you’ but it all felt so performative, like clapping at the end of a play no one was really watching. My acceptance letter came on a Thursday afternoon, folded neatly between a water bill and a Pottery Barn catalog. I sat at the edge of the kitchen counter, staring at my name printed in that clean serif font, the word Congratulations jumping out at me like it was supposed to mean something.

I thought I’d cry. I thought I’d scream. I thought someone might actually make it feel like a moment.

Instead, I read the letter three times, then slipped it back into the envelope and put it on the fridge with a magnet shaped like a lobster claw. That’s how my dad found it, hours later. After he came back from checking Layla into rehab again.

Layla, my half-sister. One of his other daughters. The one everyone dropped everything for.

That night was supposed to be about me. He was going to take me out to dinner, maybe just the two of us. He even said I could pick the place. But an hour before we were supposed to leave, his phone rang, and everything changed. Again.

“She overdosed,” he told me in a voice that wasn’t shocked. It was tired. Flat.

And just like that, I was invisible. Again.

We didn’t go to dinner. We drove to the hospital. I sat in the waiting room for four hours while the doctors tried to keep Layla alive. No one asked me about Stanford. No one asked how I felt. No one cared that I’d just gotten into the school I’d worked for since I was twelve.

That was the story of my life on my dad’s side of the family, massive, crumbling, rich as hell, and always breaking in new, exhausting ways. Everyone played their roles. Layla was the tragedy. Chloe, my oldest half-sister, was the “chilll,” she was never around she had her own life. And me? I was the placeholder. The responsible one. The one they expected to “just get it.”

I used to think it was better on my mom’s side.

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.

After the divorce, she moved into a smaller house with light blue shutters and too many throw pillows, the kind that look like they should be on display in a coastal boutique. I’d visit sometimes, usually out of guilt. Her world was soft-spoken and distant, like a house where no one ever raised their voice but no one really listened either.

She had one son, my half-brother Ryan. He was nice, in that careless way boys sometimes are. Got a girl pregnant last spring and now suddenly there was a baby in the picture. A real, living, breathing baby. And just like that, my mom became a grandmother. And that baby became her whole world.

She didn’t mean to ignore me. She just… forgot I existed sometimes. Or maybe she thought I didn’t need her anymore.

Maybe she was right.

So when I packed my bags for Stanford that fall, it wasn’t just excitement humming beneath my skin, it was relief. A quiet, dangerous kind of relief. Like maybe I could finally be someone outside of all this wreckage.

No rehab visits. No baby showers. No whispered gossip in country clubs about how “Layla had so much promise” or “He’s such a good dad, considering.” No more being the girl who held everything together while everyone else fell apart.

Just me.

And the moment I stepped onto that campus, I promised myself one thing:

I was going to live for myself now. No apologies.

Even if it meant learning how to do that from scratch.

Nobody saw me off to school.

No teary goodbye, no suitcase being shoved into the back of a car, no quick stop at Starbucks for a “last moment before everything changes.” Nothing like the movies. My dad was with Layla at some wellness retreat that doubled as a detox center. My mom sent me a text that morning—a blurry photo of the baby chewing on a teether—and a “good luck, sweetheart! call me later if you have time 💕.”

I didn’t answer.

By the time the actual Stanford move-in day rolled around, all the dorms were buzzing with excited parents lugging mini-fridges and hugging their kids like they were sending them off to war. I wasn’t even there. My parents had forgotten to book me a flight. Not even a mistake, just… forgotten. I ended up flying out three days later, after calling the university myself and explaining that I’d be late. They said it was fine. I said thank you. That was the end of it.

When I got to campus, it was quiet. All the big welcomes were already over. No lines at the check-in tables. Just a girl with a clipboard and a stack of keys. She handed me mine without looking up.

I moved myself in.

Room W431. Private. I’d requested a single when I applied, hoping that if I was going to start over, I could do it in peace. No strangers breathing down my neck, no questions about where I came from or why I always seemed a little too put together on the outside and a little too hollow underneath. It was clean and smelled like new furniture. A blank slate.

I unpacked my music playing in the background, folding my clothes with slow hands, stacking my notebooks on the desk, stocking my bathroom full like I was trying to convince myself that I really lived here. That this wasn’t just a dream I’d wake up from.

That night, I set out my outfit for the next day. I couldn’t afford to be late or unprepared, not when I was already starting off behind. I laid out a white tube top and a pale yellow cardigan, soft and light like lemon chiffon. Paired it with loose jeans that cinched at the waist, the kind that made me feel casual but like I still had my life together. Then I took out my heatless curling ribbon and wrapped my hair around it section by section.

Everything about that moment felt delicate. Like I was pretending to be someone who had always been okay.

The next morning, the sun poured in too early, warming the room in gold. I peeled off the curler and shook out my hair, soft waves falling over my shoulders. I brushed my teeth, gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror. Not perfect, but passable. I slipped into my outfit, tugged on my sneakers, and slung my bag over my shoulder. The campus outside buzzed with newness. Voices, bike bells, footsteps on pavement. Everyone was beginning something.

My first class was Psychology 101, one of those intro classes that half the school was probably taking. I walked in ten minutes early, found a seat near the window, and opened my notebook. I tapped my pen against the corner of the page, trying not to overthink everything.

That’s when he sat down beside me.

He didn’t say anything. Just dropped his bag, slouched into the seat, and stared down at the desk. His hair was dark and a little messy, like he hadn’t bothered to comb it that morning. A soft hoodie hung loose on his shoulders, and he smelled faintly of coffee and something clean, like ocean air.

But it was his eyes that struck me first, stormy, sad, and far away. Like he was living in a different world entirely and had no idea how to get back.

I glanced at him once, quickly, then turned back to my notebook.

Part of me understood the look on my face, blank, wide-eyed and half-awake. I’d been floating all week. Maybe longer.

Just a week ago, I’d broken up with my boyfriend of four years. Four years. High school to almost-now. His name was Matt, and he was comfortable. Safe. The kind of love that felt like a worn sweater, warm, but suffocating if you wore it for too long. We’d tried to convince ourselves that we could stretch forever over two different futures. But the truth was, we weren’t going the same way.

He was heading to a small business school back home in Boston, still living in his parents’ house, still going to the same bars with the same friends. And me? I was here. A thousand miles away, pretending I wasn’t scared, pretending I didn’t feel like a stranger in my own life.

I called him last Friday. Told him it didn’t feel fair anymore. That we’d run out of "somedays." He said he understood. He didn’t cry. Neither did I.

Now I sat in a classroom, beside a sad-eyed boy who hadn’t looked at me once, still untangling all of it in my head. Until the professor’s voice broke through:

“Your first assignment,” she said, her tone clipped and confident, “is a semester-long project. Choose a prominent psychologist—alive or dead—and write everything about them. Their work. Their childhood. What broke them. What shaped them. Make it human.”

A few groans echoed around the room, but I sat straighter. I liked this kind of thing. Deep dives. Layers.

Then came the part that made my stomach dip.

“You’ll be working in pairs. With the person you’re sitting next to. No swaps.”

I blinked and slowly turned to the right.

He was already looking at me.

For the first time since sitting down, the boy beside me smiled—just barely, just enough. His whole face didn’t change, but his eyes did. The storm in them cleared, just a little.

“Hi,” he said, voice low, gentle, like he hadn’t spoken aloud in days. “I’m Conrad.”

I swallowed, heart jumping in a way it hadn’t in a long time. His name settled in my chest like it belonged there.

“Y/N,” I said back, my voice steadier than I expected.

He nodded once, eyes searching mine. “Nice to meet you, partner.”

The rest of the day blurred by, a haze of syllabus outlines, awkward icebreakers, and campus maps that felt more like mazes. I showed up, I nodded when appropriate, and I took notes I’d probably never look at again. But through it all, my mind kept drifting back to Conrad.

After class, just before he left, he held his hand out. “Here,” he said. “Let me put my number in.”

I did. He didn’t say anything more, just gave a small nod when he passed it back. “Text me,” he said, eyes catching mine with a quiet kind of weight. And then he disappeared into the crowd of students.

By the time I got back to my dorm, the sun was already lowering, spilling golden light across my room like someone had poured honey on the walls. I kicked off my sneakers, peeled off my cardigan and jeans, and traded them for a pair of soft pajama shorts. My hair was still curly messy now, but it framed my face like I hadn’t completely come undone yet.

I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, thumb hovering over his name.

Was it weird to text him the same day?

Was it worse not to?

I didn’t let myself spiral. I opened the thread and started typing.

Y/N: hey it’s y/n from psych class :) Y/N: u down to start looking at people for the project tonight?

I hit send before I could overthink it. A minute later, the screen lit up.

Conrad: hey :) yeah for sure Conrad: where do you live?

Y/N: wilson hall

There was a pause. Three dots. Then:

Conrad: no way me too Conrad: What floor?

Y/N: 4th

Conrad: What room number?

Y/N: W431

Another pause.

Conrad: alright i’ll be there in 10

I stared at the screen for a second, heart stuttering.

He was coming over.

Suddenly, my room didn’t feel as clean as it had twenty minutes ago. I stood up, did a quick scan, moved a pair of socks off the floor, shoved my empty coffee cup into the trash, and straightened my pillow. Then I looked in the mirror and frowned.

I was in pajama shorts. Not cute ones—worn ones. My hair was half-flat, half-curled. But it was too late now.

He’d be here in ten.

Nine, now.

I sat back down, pretending to scroll through potential psychologists on my laptop. But I wasn’t thinking about Freud or Jung or Pavlov.

-------------------------------

a/n - havent done this in a while , how fun. heres the start :)

@ch0llies

[mattsobvimyfav]

Should me & @ch0llies collab one more time ?!

[mattsobvimyfav]

i also think we should chill on a girl who maybe made a mistake when she was what 15? idk strange to me nobody actually knows what happened & nobody should be rude about stuff that’s not ur business & you actually don’t know what happened. just bc that’s ur fav🤷🏻‍♀️

and i think that if madisyn left because of chrises commitment issues there wouldn’t be tea (since on the stream they were like they wanna know the tea) and they wouldn’t have unfollowed her EVERYWHERE and wouldve understood, and chris would not have been heartbroken from that he would’ve understood 😭😭 im pretty sure he was also with madisyn when he was rly young like in 2020-2021 so i think that was also before he was even scared because seemingly from the pics of them tg they were rllly close, he would’ve said from the start if he didn’t want all of that with her. there’s literally vids and pics of them cuddling and holding hands from 2020-2021 AND nick def wouldn’t have talked about it publicly if they didnt know for sure AND theres literally no evidence of them saying there was a misunderstanding because nick wasnt actually talking he was mouthing 😭😭 but i just had to say this because none of this is a coincidence he def was played hes talked about being heartbroken nick mouthed it on the stream and they never addressed it after its def real he def was played

THANK YOU

fuck the people who side with that hoe who dated another dude while with chris 😭😭

[mattsobvimyfav]

here’s my last post before i delete this account bc im actually so sick of some of u dick riders please.

the way the triplets act is soo entitled. i just saw a tiktok of them saying they aren’t gonna post friday videos if they aren’t good, you literally do nothing??

you post once a week so u can’t take one day to make a good video? i cared about them back in 2021/22 idek when they FIRST started at this point. I would write my fanfics with them as characters because they are hot.

Matt & Nick have horrible attitudes. Nothing about the videos are even good tbh, there’s some funny points (ONE MAYBE TWO) other than that chris is the only one who keeps the mood light.

you can state ur opinion in the comments idc what u have to say tbh because at this point, it’s clear ur sticking up for people who don’t care about u😁💘

EDDITTTT- if u say being an influencer is hard bite a fucking brick.

[mattsobvimyfav]

YOU SUCK THE DICK STRAIGHT OUT MY ASS WHO GOT THE UPPET HAND

[mattsobvimyfav]

Hi! sorry to bother! but there's a user that goes by @ forevermore777 and he has been banned alot, but he keeps coming back.

Hes a grown man that sexualizes 17 year old ariana greenblatt. he posts in her tag too and he's really gross… :/

pleas report him!! tagging/telling others about this helps!

‼️‼️‼️‼️

[mattsobvimyfav]

guys i would never want to be famous bc i would be cancelled so fast & even worst id never apologize for it like why am i apologizing for something i said/ did with my chest like if i did it on the internet i did it on purpose clearly

[mattsobvimyfav]

i think if u send hate in anon ur a pussy. esp to someone who’s open ab mental health problems and shit like that. idgaf say what u want ab me bc my own vision of myself is too high for anyone to tear down but if ur a hater behind 1. a tumblr that 98% of people don’t now who u are 2. behind ANON at that. If ur life is so miserable u need to talk shit to someone plz do it to me bc ur a fucking loser and i could care less what ur dumbass has to say, but if u get ur rocks off on hating do it over here 💃💃💃

[mattsobvimyfav]

new dealer!chris chapter here ! 💸

@mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668 @fratboychrisera @slxt4chriss @c1airesturnio1o @reesejochens @lailarie @pip4444chris @nakaylap @natalie3773 @jetaimevous @ivysturnss @slut4chris888 @lynxxbbunny @amelia-sturniolo3 @slvttie-zx @abby-lynch26 @fratbrochrisgf @autumnmatt @iloveduckssm @severecreationfox @lost-ashley @sitarayummmyyyy @mattsbitchh @sturniolosangel @watercolorskyy @starzinasblog @xmexssx @chris-hallelujah @sabsturned @star-sturns @colorthecosmos444 @glinda-the-goodwitch @ncm9696 @giannalovessturniolo @hannahhsturnioloo @riasturns @mattsplaything

[mattsobvimyfav]

i got two holes for a reason 🤷‍♀️

[mattsobvimyfav]

new part of unknown🤺🤺

unknown

Y/N has always played it safe—balancing her job as a pediatric nurse, and her careful lifestyle. But one night out with her friend, Jordan, changes everything. When she meets Matt and Chris—two dangerous, enigmatic brothers—she’s drawn into a world she doesn’t belong in. But the more she resists, the harder they pulls her in.

pt 5

The sterile glow of fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead as I glanced at the clock—12:03 AM. The hospital never truly slept, even if the world outside did. The quiet hum of machines and the soft beeping of monitors filled the air, a constant reminder of the fragile lives within these walls. My scrubs felt heavier tonight, clinging to me with the weight of exhaustion that came with the night shift.

I made my rounds, clipboard in hand, checking vitals and adjusting IVs. Liam was my first stop, a six-year-old with a stubborn spirit and an even more stubborn case of pneumonia. He was awake, his big brown eyes peeking over the edge of his blanket. I smiled softly, trying to mask my fatigue.

“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, keeping my voice low. “How are we feeling?”

He gave me a weak thumbs-up, and I chuckled, adjusting his oxygen mask slightly. After checking his stats, I promised him a superhero sticker when he woke up in the morning. His small smile made the sleepless hours feel a little less heavy.

The night blurred into a routine of soft footsteps, hushed voices, and the occasional urgent call over the intercom. At 2:15 AM, I found myself in the NICU, staring down at fragile lives encased in plastic incubators. The tiniest of fingers twitched, and my heart clenched. I adjusted monitors, recorded notes, and offered comfort to anxious parents perched beside their babies.

By 4 AM, exhaustion was creeping in, settling into my bones like a chill I couldn’t shake. I slipped into the break room, cradling a lukewarm cup of coffee, my mind drifting to Matt. Wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from my thoughts. A simple text lit up the screen: "You good?" It was Matt. Just two words, but they warmed me more than the coffee ever could.

"Thinking about you," I replied quickly before tucking the phone away. No time for distractions.

The final hours passed in a haze of routine checks, comforting whispers to restless children, and quiet moments spent beside tiny hands gripping mine. When 7 AM finally arrived, the morning shift trickling in like a tide washing over weary sands, I felt the weight of the night pressing down.

But as I stepped outside, the first light of dawn brushing the horizon, I realized that even in exhaustion, there was a strange sense of peace. The world was waking up, and I was heading home.

The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange as I pulled into my driveway, the exhaustion from my shift weighing heavily on me. My limbs felt like lead, my mind foggy with fatigue, but something sharp pierced through the haze—Matt’s car parked across the street.

I frowned, squinting against the early morning light. He was there, slouched in the driver’s seat, his eyes dark and focused, scanning the street like he was expecting trouble. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite name.

I crossed the street, my footsteps quiet against the pavement. As I approached his car, he rolled down the window, his gaze softening when it landed on me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice low, still rough from the long night.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The guy from the other night… he’s on the run. Chris and I haven’t been able to track him down yet.” His jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes. “I didn’t know what time you got off and I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

My heart twisted, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. “You… you sat here all night?”

He shrugged, like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. Not to me.

“Come in,” I said softly, reaching for the door handle. “You must be tired.”

Matt didn’t argue. He killed the engine and followed me inside, his presence filling the quiet space of my house like he belonged there. I kicked off my shoes, feeling the exhaustion crash over me again.

“I’m gonna shower,” I mumbled, heading toward the bathroom.

“Alright,” he replied, already making his way to my bedroom, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the hospital’s sterile scent and the tension clinging to my skin. But my mind kept drifting to Matt, to the way he watched over me without expecting anything in return.

When I finally emerged, wrapped in a towel, the house was silent except for the faint creak of the bed as he shifted. I peeked into the bedroom, finding him lying there, his eyes half-closed but still alert, as if he couldn’t fully relax.

I slipped into some fresh clothes and climbed into bed beside him. Without a word, he reached for me, pulling me close, his arm draped over my waist, grounding me.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the quiet.

He didn’t respond, but the way his fingers traced slow, lazy circles on my back said everything.

The soft glow of afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds when I slowly blinked awake. The clock on my nightstand read 2:03 PM. Matt was still beside me, one arm draped lazily over my waist, his breathing steady and even. I shifted slightly, and his eyes opened, sharp and clear, like he'd never truly been asleep.

“I need to head home soon,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. “Got some business to handle tonight. You wanna come?”

I stretched, suppressing a yawn. “I can’t. I have to watch the kids I nanny around five. Their parents are going out for a date night.”

Matt propped himself up on one elbow, his brows knitting together in concern. “You work too much.”

I gave him a soft smile, brushing a stray hair from his face. “I like staying busy. Plus, it’s good money.”

He sighed, his hand trailing down my arm. “I just don’t want you running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m fine, Matt. Really.”

I finally decided to get moving. I didn’t have much time before I needed to be at the kids’ house by 4:45, so I hurried through my usual routine. Matt was gone by now and the sun was beating down outside. I was just thankful I could get away with something casual today.

I slipped into a pair of jean shorts and grabbed a cropped top from my closet. It was light and breathable, perfect for a long night with the kids. I didn’t even think twice about it as I tossed on my pair of Converse sneakers.

I checked the time—4:30 pm. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I grabbed my keys off the counter and headed out the door, feeling the heat of the afternoon sun on my skin as I made my way to the car. 

The moment I stepped through the door, they practically tackled me with hugs. It’s funny how quickly they latch on to you, like you’re part of the family.

By the time dinner came around, the house was full of energy. Little voices chattered away while I tried to make sure they ate at least a decent portion of their meals. I was used to it by now, this constant dance of playing, tidying up, refereeing fights, and making sure nobody was covered in food by the end of it.

Around 7:45, I herded them into their bedrooms, the youngest curled up under her princess blanket, the older one complaining about the “boring” bedtime story I always read. I brushed it off, knowing the moment I left the room, they’d be fast asleep. And they were.

By 8:00, the house was quiet again. It always feels surreal after a day of chaos. I sat on the couch, scrolling through my phone, the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old house the only sounds filling the space.

Then, I heard it. A noise. Soft at first, but unmistakable—a scraping sound, like something dragging across the floor. I froze. My heart started racing, and I quickly glanced around, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. It couldn’t be the kids. They were in bed, fast asleep, I was sure of it.

The noise came again, this time louder. I stood up slowly, trying not to make a sound, but the air felt thick. I moved toward the kitchen, my steps quieter than normal, and grabbed the first thing I could find—a sharp knife from the counter. My fingers tightened around the handle, the cool metal grounding me in this strange mix of fear and caution.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself, then moved toward the sound.

I took another step toward the sound, my grip tightening around the knife. But before I could even get another step closer, someone grabbed me from behind, their arm wrapping around my waist and a hand clamping over my mouth. My heart slammed in my chest as I struggled, but the grip was too strong. The knife slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor.

Panic surged in my veins. I tried to twist free, but then I felt something cold press against the side of my head, a faint metallic sensation that made my stomach drop. My breath caught in my throat, and just as I was about to scream, the grip on me loosened slightly, and the voice I dreaded hearing cut through the tension.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” My mind went blank as I turned my head at the all to familiar voice and caught sight of someone walking towards me. Matt. 

I tilt my head and look up at the person restraining me, already knowing who I will be met with. Chris. 

I gasped, finally pushing myself away from him as he let go. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I snapped, my heart racing from the shock and sudden release.

Matt’s jaw clenched, and he stepped closer, his eyes scanning the room quickly before focusing back on me. “This is one of our dealer's house,” he said, voice low but urgent. “We think the guy who lives here is stashing someone—someone we’re looking for.”

I shook my head, still trying to process what was happening, the fear slowly turning into disbelief. “That’s impossible,” I said, backing up a step. “The man who lives here is… he’s the dad of the kids I nanny for.”

Matt’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he glanced toward Chris, who was already walking toward the kitchen. “You think you know what he does in his free time?” he asked, voice a bit colder now, as if doubting me.

“I don't know- I thought,” my voice shaking a little. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I've known him for years, I didn't think there was any way the man who took care of those kids would be involved in whatever shady dealings Matt and Chris were wrapped up in.

Matt didn’t say anything, just glanced toward the kitchen where Chris was already searching through the cabinets. The silence in the room was thick, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to spiral out of control.

Matt’s eyes narrowed, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re out of luck,” he said flatly. “I need answers from him, and I’m not leaving here without them.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, but it didn’t make what Matt was saying any less terrifying. “What am I supposed to do then?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t have me involved in this. What if he finds out I’m wrapped up with you two?” The weight of the situation hit me, and the panic flared again. 

Chris looked at me thoughtfully, like he was considering my words, before his lips curled into a smirk. “We could always pretend we’re tying you up,” he suggested casually, his tone light despite the intensity of the situation. “Make it look like we’re waiting for him to come home. Keeps up the illusion that you’re just some innocent bystander.”

I stared at him, my pulse hammering. As much as I hated the idea, it was the only way I could keep from getting too tangled up in this mess. The alternative didn’t seem any better. “Fine,” I said, my voice tight. “Do it.”

Chris didn’t waste any time. He moved quickly to grab some rope from the kitchen drawer and expertly looped it around my wrists, securing it loosely enough to look real but not too tight to hurt. 

Time felt like it was dragging. The parents would be back in ten minutes, and I could already hear the faint sound of the clock ticking in the background, counting down the seconds. Chris worked quickly, securing the ropes around my wrists in a way that looked real enough to buy them some time, but not tight enough to cause pain.

When he was done, he stepped back, his eyes scanning his work. “That should do it,” he said with a satisfied nod.

Matt gave a small, approving grunt. But just before he turned to follow Chris, he paused and walked back toward me. “Look, I’m sorry it had to be this way,” he said, his voice quieter than before. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, something unexpectedly gentle in the gesture. “We didn’t mean to drag you into this. But I need him to talk, and I don’t have time to mess around.”

I sat still, the warmth of his kiss lingering, but the weight of everything else pressing down on me. The fear was still there, heavy in my chest, but the concern for the kids was all-consuming. If the dad worked for Matt and Chris, what else was going on in this house? 

“You didn’t drag me into any of this, If anything the dad did” I said quietly, my voice strained. “But I’ll play along for now. Just be careful, okay?”

Matt didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on me for a second longer before he turned and followed Chris to finish what they came for. As the seconds ticked by, I sat there, helpless but trying not to panic. The sounds of their movement faded into the background, but I couldn’t shake the tight knot in my stomach. The parents would be back any second now.

The tension in the air was thick, and the seconds felt like hours as I sat there, pretending to be helpless, the ropes pressing against my skin. My mind raced, my heart pounding with each sound that echoed through the house. Then, in the distance, I heard it—the unmistakable rumble of a car pulling into the driveway. My stomach dropped.

Matt didn’t waste a second. He moved quickly, crossing the room and grabbing a roll of tape from a nearby drawer. My eyes widened as he ripped off a strip and pressed it firmly over my mouth, silencing any protest I could have made. I wanted to yell, to ask what the hell was going on, but it was too late.

The door opened, and I heard footsteps from the entryway. The dad walked in, his expression shifting when he saw me tied up on the couch, the rope and the tape making me look like a hostage in some twisted game. His eyes darted between me and the two men who had been quietly lurking around the corner.

"What the hell happened here?" he demanded, his voice shaky with alarm.

Before he could move any closer, Matt and Chris stepped out from behind the corner, both of them with guns drawn, the cold metal glinting in the dim light of the living room. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to make eye contact with the dad, silently pleading with him to stay calm.

“Where’s Steven?” Matt demanded, his voice calm but dangerous, the kind of tone that sent a chill down your spine.

The dad blinked rapidly, his face pale as he took a step back. “I—I don’t know what you're talking about,” he stammered, his hands shaking slightly. “I don’t know where Steven is. I haven’t seen him in days. Please, just let her go. Whatever this is, it’s not about me—”

Chris stepped forward, his gaze cold and calculating. “You’re lying,” he growled. “We know he’s been here. Where are you hiding him?”

The mom came rushing in from behind, her eyes immediately locking on the scene in front of her. “What’s going on?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in panic as she saw Matt and Chris with guns in hand. She froze when she saw me, my hands tied and the tape covering my mouth, but it didn’t take long for her to understand the situation.

The dad, now visibly sweating, held his hands out in front of him as if to ward them off. “I swear to God, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen Steven. Please, you’ve got to believe me. You’ve got to believe us—we’re not involved in whatever this is!”

The mom stood beside him, nodding vigorously, her voice shaking as she added, “We don’t know anything! We’re just a normal family. Please, don’t hurt her.”

Matt and Chris exchanged a look, the tension still hanging in the air. Matt’s gaze never left the dad as he took a step forward. “I’ll be the judge of that. You’ve got five seconds to start talking, or this is going to get a lot worse for everyone here.”

Chris’s gaze never wavered from the dad as he stood there, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sneer, he glanced over at the wife, her face filled with confusion and fear. “Never told your wife you were dealing, huh?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess you’ve got a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

The dad’s face went pale, and for a second, I thought he might break down. The wife blinked at Chris, confusion shifting to shock. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice small and trembling. “What do you mean, dealing?”

The dad’s resolve cracked. His shoulders slumped as he let out a shaky breath, and then he spilled everything. “A year ago... I lost my job. I didn’t know how I was going to pay the bills, take care of the kids... So I started dealing. I never told you. I never wanted you to know... I thought I could keep it all under control. I’m sorry…”

Matt let out a laugh, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “Shut up,” he said, cutting off the dad mid-sentence, his voice sharp and filled with annoyance. He stepped closer, gun still in hand, his gaze deadly serious. “Where’s Steven?”

The dad, now completely broken, didn’t hesitate. “Last I heard, he was hiding out at the warehouse in downtown Boston,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “Please... Please don’t hurt them.”

Chris exchanged a look with Matt, who let out a short, amused snort. “You’re lucky this time,” Matt said, his voice icy. He motioned toward the door with his gun. “We’ll be back if you’re lying.”

With that, the two of them turned, walking toward the front door. They didn’t waste any time, leaving the house in silence, their footsteps echoing in the hallway before the door slammed shut behind them.

The mom stood there for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened. Then, she rushed over to me, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the ropes that had bound my wrists. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she muttered, her voice filled with regret. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know any of this.”

The dad slowly approached too, his face pale and stricken with guilt. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he said, his eyes full of sorrow.

I pulled away from them both, feigning a shaky breath and an overwhelmed look. “I just... I just want to go home,” I said, my voice trembling as I stared up at them, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that had been spinning in my head since Matt and Chris showed up.

I rubbed my wrists dramatically, still playing the part. “That was terrifying,” I added, swallowing hard as if trying to hold back tears. “I didn’t know what they were going to do to me.”

The dad’s face twisted in guilt as he finally finished untying me. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to say...”

The mom nodded, her hands shaking as she reached out to offer a comforting gesture. “You’re safe now,” she said softly, but I could see the worry in her eyes, the fear that their world was crumbling down around them.

I stood up, finally free, and took a step back, putting my hands up in mock reassurance. “It’s fine,” I said, my tone shaky but sincere. “I just need to get out of here. I don’t want any part of this. I need to go home.”

The dad and mom exchanged a glance, both of them looking as if they wanted to apologize again, but I was already moving toward the door.

I barely waited for the front door to close before I bolted for my car. My pulse still hammering in my chest. I threw myself into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut, and started the engine without hesitation.

My fingers were already reaching for my phone before I even pulled out of the driveway. I needed answers. I needed to know what was going on. As soon as the phone rang, I found Matt’s contact, pressing the call button.

When he finally answered, I didn’t hold back.

“Get the fuck to my apartment now!” I screamed into the phone, my voice raw “Now, Matt, now!”

Without waiting for him to respond, I ended the call, tossing my phone into the passenger seat as I sped off down the road. My mind was a blur of thoughts. My stomach churned, as I tried to keep my focus on the road.

By the time I reached my apartment, I could already see Matt’s car parked outside. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed Chris’s car next to it. As I slammed the car into park, I didn't hesitate to rush up the stairs to my door. I unlocked it quickly, my breath shallow as I stepped inside.

And there they were—Matt and Chris, already waiting for me.

Matt’s eyes lifted to mine, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “That was fast,” he said, leaning casually against the wall like nothing was out of the ordinary. Chris was seated on the couch, his eyes scanning the room, looking as unfazed as always.

I shut the door behind me, locking it quickly before turning to face them. My heart was still pounding, but now I felt a different kind of fury burning through me. 

“What the fuck is going on?” I snapped, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice. “Why did you go there?”

Matt pushed off the wall and took a step toward me, his expression still unreadable. “Relax,” he said, his tone cool. “I told you, Steven is on the run from us, with our money.”

I choked back. “What does that have to do with my kid's dad though? I'm never going to be able to watch them again, You know how much those kids mean to me.” This all felt way more personal than before.

Chris looked up at me, his brow arched in curiosity. “Why not?”

I shot him a glare, “I can't just act like being held hostage at their house is fine, Especially if they can't know I'm associated with you two.”

Matt walked over wrapping me in a tight hug, making all of the sadness of leaving my kids behind lessen a little.

I took a deep breath and relaxed into him. “So what happens now?” I asked, my voice quieter, the tension not fully leaving my shoulders.

Matt let go of me glancing at Chris before answering, his gaze steady. “Now, we wait for Steven to make a move. We’ll track him down, you don’t need to worry. You’re not a part of this anymore.”

“Fine,” I muttered, turning away from them and heading for the kitchen to grab a drink. I heard them both chuckle behind me, but I didn’t turn around. 

It was nearly 11 pm when the three of us settled into the couch, the glow of the TV flickering across the room. Matt was on one end, his feet propped up on the coffee table, and Chris sat next to me, barely paying attention to whatever show was on. The quiet voices of the TV was the only sound between us.

Chris was the first to break the silence, sitting up suddenly and glancing over at Matt. “Got a deal. We need to go kid.”

Matt’s eyes flicked toward Chris, a nod of acknowledgment passing between them. Then, Chris turned to me, his gaze lazy but with an edge to it. “You coming?”

Without thinking, I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Maybe it was the restless energy buzzing inside me, or maybe it was just the adrenaline that hadn’t worn off from earlier. Either way, something inside me wanted to go, even if it was a bad idea.

We all stood, I followed Matt and Chris out the door. The cool night air hit me as soon as I stepped outside, and the headlights of Matt’s car cut through the darkness.

When we reached the car, Matt stopped, opening the back and grabbing a hoodie. He handed it to me without a word, his expression serious. “Put this on,” he said, his voice low. “Cover up. These men are scumbags.”

I hesitated for a second, glancing at him before pulling the hoodie on. The fabric swallowed me up. I could feel the weight of his words, the underlying warning behind them. Whoever these men were, they were dangerous. And for some reason, I was excited.

Matt gave me a quick glance, his eyes briefly softening before hardening again. “Let’s go.”

The ride was smooth, and despite the late hour, The hum of the engine filled the car as Matt drove, his hands gripping the wheel with effortless control.

In the backseat, I let myself relax, sinking into the leather, my gaze never leaving Matt. The low beats of Jukebox Joints by A$AP Rocky pulsed through the car, the rhythm adding to the easy vibe of the night. It was one of those moments that felt surreal, yet completely natural.

Matt’s jawline caught the light as he turned the wheel, the scruff of his stubbly beard lining it perfectly. I couldn’t help but watch how it framed his face, the way his blue eyes glowed under the streetlights, glimmering with a mix of cold determination and something else. Maybe it was the faintest softness I caught in them whenever he glanced in the rearview mirror, or the way his lips would curve into the smallest smile when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Matt may seem intimidating—hard, distant, cold. But he was perfect. Every inch of him, from the way his hands moved on the steering wheel to the way his eyes could make me feel like the only thing in the world, was exactly what I needed. I didn’t need to worry. With him in control, everything felt right.

I could feel my heart racing as I thought about him, how everything about him pulled me in deeper. No one had ever made me feel this way—safe, in a strange kind of way. He was exactly what I wanted, and the feeling of knowing that I was exactly where I was meant to be settled deep inside me.

We pulled up to a nondescript house that looked like it had seen better days. The lights were dim, casting shadows across the overgrown lawn. It wasn’t much to look at, but in this world, it didn’t need to be. The muffled noise from inside—the sound of loud voices, clinking glasses, and low laughter—told me everything I needed to know. The moment I stepped out of the car, I could feel the shift in the air, like I was stepping into something dark, something dangerous.

Matt moved ahead, confident, like he owned every inch of this place. Chris was close behind, his eyes scanning the surroundings, alert and ready. 

We reached the door and stepped inside, and immediately, the smell of smoke and alcohol hit me. The house was dark, dimly lit by a few weak lamps, the air thick with tension. I could hear the murmurs of conversation from the men hanging around, but as soon as we entered, the room seemed to freeze.

A few men glanced up, sizing the boys up. They were eyeing Matt and Chris, their faces changing from casual indifference to cautious recognition. These were the kinds of men who knew power when they saw it, and they recognized it immediately in Matt and Chris.

One of the men, a scruffy guy with a beer in hand, stepped forward, attempting a cocky smile. “Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with false charm. “A couple of big shots. You boys here for business, or something else?”

Before I even had time to register his words, the room fell silent. The other men in the room watched the exchange, their gazes shifting uneasily between Matt and Chris. It was like they could feel the weight of the moment like everything had shifted in an instant.

Matt’s gaze flicked over to the guy, his eyes cold and calculating. He didn’t say a word, but his presence alone made the air feel heavy. His silence was more intimidating than any words could have been. He took one step forward, and the man with the beer faltered, taking a half step back as if instinctively knowing he was in over his head.

Chris, standing beside me, didn’t even glance at the guy. He just raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. 

The guy’s eyes widened slightly, and he hesitated. “Look, I didn’t mean anything,” he muttered, clearly unnerved now, his cocky grin gone. “Just—just tryin’ to be friendly.”

The room had gotten deathly quiet, every pair of eyes on Matt and Chris, every single person in that room recognizing the authority they held. Even the man who had been bold enough to speak was backing off, his shoulders slumping.

I wasn’t surprised. Matt and Chris had this effect on people—intimidating, relentless. The way they carried themselves, the unspoken threat that followed them—it made everyone else uneasy. They didn’t have to say much, because the energy they exuded did all the talking for them.

“Good,” Matt finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. He didn’t need to raise it. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

The tension in the room shifted once again, but this time it was with the unmistakable shift from uncertainty to compliance. Everyone knew their place now.

The man who had tried to make small talk took another step back, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, no problem,” he muttered, and just like that, he retreated to the couch, not daring to make another move.

Chris gave a small, almost bored, shrug as he turned to follow Matt deeper into the house. I stayed close behind them.

We walked into a dimly lit room that smelled of stale smoke and tension. The walls were lined with old, worn-out couches, and a few men were lounging around, talking low and eyeing us as we entered. I stayed close to Matt, feeling the weight of their stares.

Matt and Chris sat on one of the couches, and I followed them, sitting down beside Matt. The three men who had been sitting across the room stood and made their way over. They didn’t seem too eager to be here, but when Matt and Chris walked in, the vibe shifted, and they knew better than to act tough.

One of the men, a lanky guy with a beard, took a seat on the couch opposite, the other two following suit. 

Chris didn’t waste any time. He reached into his backpack, pulling out a couple of bricks of coke wrapped tightly in plastic. He placed them on the table with a soft thud, and the men’s eyes immediately locked onto the product, their faces betraying a mix of desire and calculation.

“Here’s the deal,” Chris said, his voice low but commanding. He looked directly at the guy who had been eyeing the coke the hardest. “Two bricks, top quality. You know the price. No games.”

The lanky guy nodded, his fingers twitching as he looked at the bricks. “Yeah, we know the price,” he said, his voice rough. “But we heard you’ve been slacking a bit. No one wants to be stuck with bad product, and we ain't in the habit of losing money.”

Chris didn’t flinch. He leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed, but there was a dangerous edge to him. “If you think you’re gonna sit here and lecture me about quality,” he said calmly, “then maybe you’re in the wrong business. These are the best. You want them, you pay up. Simple.”

The men across from us exchanged quick glances, the tension palpable, but they all knew the deal wasn’t something they could just walk away from. Money was money, and coke was always in demand.

The man sitting closest to Chris leaned forward, taking a good look at the bricks, then glanced up at Matt, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t want any issues this time, Matt. You and Chris are tight, but we’ve heard some rumors. People get too greedy, things go south.”

Matt didn’t flinch. His stare was unyielding, like he wasn’t just the one who made the rules—he was the one who enforced them. His voice was calm but steady, the kind that didn’t allow for negotiation. “If you’ve got concerns, now’s the time to speak. But if you’re just here to waste time, we can walk out the door. I’m not here to argue over rumors.”

The guy swallowed, his jaw tightening. I could see it in their eyes. This wasn’t a game to them. It never was. But Matt made it clear it was his world, and they were just living in it.

The lanky guy looked at the bricks again, then back at Matt. “Alright,” he said, voice shaky now, “let’s do it, no bullshit. We’ll take them.”

Chris grinned, the deal sealed with a nod. The man reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a stack of cash.

Matt reached forward, his fingers brushing the cash as he slid it across the table. He counted it once, then twice, his eyes flicking back up to the men across from him, checking for any sign of hesitation.

“It’s all there,” Matt said, his voice calm but sharp. “Let’s go”

The deal had gone smoothly. The men gathered the bricks, standing quickly, eager to get out of there with the product they just secured. They didn’t dare linger.

Without a word, the men left the room, disappearing into the shadows of the house. The silence that followed felt heavier than before. The tension slowly dissipated, and I relaxed back into the couch, feeling the adrenaline from the deal finally settling.

Matt’s eyes met mine briefly before he stood, nodding to Chris. "Let's go. We've got what we need."

tag-

(divider by @cafekitsune) @tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274 @sturnslutz @secret-sturniolo @vickytaa @matteatmeout @pair-of-pantaloons @theboredknightcat-blog @sturniolostuff @dariellemccaul @mamamadssss

[mattsobvimyfav]

How do u feel about tour

Personally, I dont care. I'm not their biggest fan; I think they're hot, so I write my fictions thinking of their faces, but I am not enough of a fan to spend money and take that ticket away from someone who loves them, tbh. Like @ch0llies knows

[mattsobvimyfav]

unknown

Y/N has always played it safe—balancing her job as a pediatric nurse, and her careful lifestyle. But one night out with her friend, Jordan, changes everything. When she meets Matt and Chris—two dangerous, enigmatic brothers—she’s drawn into a world she doesn’t belong in. But the more she resists, the harder they pulls her in.

pt 5

The sterile glow of fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead as I glanced at the clock—12:03 AM. The hospital never truly slept, even if the world outside did. The quiet hum of machines and the soft beeping of monitors filled the air, a constant reminder of the fragile lives within these walls. My scrubs felt heavier tonight, clinging to me with the weight of exhaustion that came with the night shift.

I made my rounds, clipboard in hand, checking vitals and adjusting IVs. Liam was my first stop, a six-year-old with a stubborn spirit and an even more stubborn case of pneumonia. He was awake, his big brown eyes peeking over the edge of his blanket. I smiled softly, trying to mask my fatigue.

“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, keeping my voice low. “How are we feeling?”

He gave me a weak thumbs-up, and I chuckled, adjusting his oxygen mask slightly. After checking his stats, I promised him a superhero sticker when he woke up in the morning. His small smile made the sleepless hours feel a little less heavy.

The night blurred into a routine of soft footsteps, hushed voices, and the occasional urgent call over the intercom. At 2:15 AM, I found myself in the NICU, staring down at fragile lives encased in plastic incubators. The tiniest of fingers twitched, and my heart clenched. I adjusted monitors, recorded notes, and offered comfort to anxious parents perched beside their babies.

By 4 AM, exhaustion was creeping in, settling into my bones like a chill I couldn’t shake. I slipped into the break room, cradling a lukewarm cup of coffee, my mind drifting to Matt. Wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from my thoughts. A simple text lit up the screen: "You good?" It was Matt. Just two words, but they warmed me more than the coffee ever could.

"Thinking about you," I replied quickly before tucking the phone away. No time for distractions.

The final hours passed in a haze of routine checks, comforting whispers to restless children, and quiet moments spent beside tiny hands gripping mine. When 7 AM finally arrived, the morning shift trickling in like a tide washing over weary sands, I felt the weight of the night pressing down.

But as I stepped outside, the first light of dawn brushing the horizon, I realized that even in exhaustion, there was a strange sense of peace. The world was waking up, and I was heading home.

The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange as I pulled into my driveway, the exhaustion from my shift weighing heavily on me. My limbs felt like lead, my mind foggy with fatigue, but something sharp pierced through the haze—Matt’s car parked across the street.

I frowned, squinting against the early morning light. He was there, slouched in the driver’s seat, his eyes dark and focused, scanning the street like he was expecting trouble. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite name.

I crossed the street, my footsteps quiet against the pavement. As I approached his car, he rolled down the window, his gaze softening when it landed on me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice low, still rough from the long night.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The guy from the other night… he’s on the run. Chris and I haven’t been able to track him down yet.” His jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes. “I didn’t know what time you got off and I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

My heart twisted, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. “You… you sat here all night?”

He shrugged, like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. Not to me.

“Come in,” I said softly, reaching for the door handle. “You must be tired.”

Matt didn’t argue. He killed the engine and followed me inside, his presence filling the quiet space of my house like he belonged there. I kicked off my shoes, feeling the exhaustion crash over me again.

“I’m gonna shower,” I mumbled, heading toward the bathroom.

“Alright,” he replied, already making his way to my bedroom, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the hospital’s sterile scent and the tension clinging to my skin. But my mind kept drifting to Matt, to the way he watched over me without expecting anything in return.

When I finally emerged, wrapped in a towel, the house was silent except for the faint creak of the bed as he shifted. I peeked into the bedroom, finding him lying there, his eyes half-closed but still alert, as if he couldn’t fully relax.

I slipped into some fresh clothes and climbed into bed beside him. Without a word, he reached for me, pulling me close, his arm draped over my waist, grounding me.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the quiet.

He didn’t respond, but the way his fingers traced slow, lazy circles on my back said everything.

The soft glow of afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds when I slowly blinked awake. The clock on my nightstand read 2:03 PM. Matt was still beside me, one arm draped lazily over my waist, his breathing steady and even. I shifted slightly, and his eyes opened, sharp and clear, like he'd never truly been asleep.

“I need to head home soon,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. “Got some business to handle tonight. You wanna come?”

I stretched, suppressing a yawn. “I can’t. I have to watch the kids I nanny around five. Their parents are going out for a date night.”

Matt propped himself up on one elbow, his brows knitting together in concern. “You work too much.”

I gave him a soft smile, brushing a stray hair from his face. “I like staying busy. Plus, it’s good money.”

He sighed, his hand trailing down my arm. “I just don’t want you running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m fine, Matt. Really.”

I finally decided to get moving. I didn’t have much time before I needed to be at the kids’ house by 4:45, so I hurried through my usual routine. Matt was gone by now and the sun was beating down outside. I was just thankful I could get away with something casual today.

I slipped into a pair of jean shorts and grabbed a cropped top from my closet. It was light and breathable, perfect for a long night with the kids. I didn’t even think twice about it as I tossed on my pair of Converse sneakers.

I checked the time—4:30 pm. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I grabbed my keys off the counter and headed out the door, feeling the heat of the afternoon sun on my skin as I made my way to the car. 

The moment I stepped through the door, they practically tackled me with hugs. It’s funny how quickly they latch on to you, like you’re part of the family.

By the time dinner came around, the house was full of energy. Little voices chattered away while I tried to make sure they ate at least a decent portion of their meals. I was used to it by now, this constant dance of playing, tidying up, refereeing fights, and making sure nobody was covered in food by the end of it.

Around 7:45, I herded them into their bedrooms, the youngest curled up under her princess blanket, the older one complaining about the “boring” bedtime story I always read. I brushed it off, knowing the moment I left the room, they’d be fast asleep. And they were.

By 8:00, the house was quiet again. It always feels surreal after a day of chaos. I sat on the couch, scrolling through my phone, the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old house the only sounds filling the space.

Then, I heard it. A noise. Soft at first, but unmistakable—a scraping sound, like something dragging across the floor. I froze. My heart started racing, and I quickly glanced around, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. It couldn’t be the kids. They were in bed, fast asleep, I was sure of it.

The noise came again, this time louder. I stood up slowly, trying not to make a sound, but the air felt thick. I moved toward the kitchen, my steps quieter than normal, and grabbed the first thing I could find—a sharp knife from the counter. My fingers tightened around the handle, the cool metal grounding me in this strange mix of fear and caution.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself, then moved toward the sound.

I took another step toward the sound, my grip tightening around the knife. But before I could even get another step closer, someone grabbed me from behind, their arm wrapping around my waist and a hand clamping over my mouth. My heart slammed in my chest as I struggled, but the grip was too strong. The knife slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor.

Panic surged in my veins. I tried to twist free, but then I felt something cold press against the side of my head, a faint metallic sensation that made my stomach drop. My breath caught in my throat, and just as I was about to scream, the grip on me loosened slightly, and the voice I dreaded hearing cut through the tension.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” My mind went blank as I turned my head at the all to familiar voice and caught sight of someone walking towards me. Matt. 

I tilt my head and look up at the person restraining me, already knowing who I will be met with. Chris. 

I gasped, finally pushing myself away from him as he let go. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I snapped, my heart racing from the shock and sudden release.

Matt’s jaw clenched, and he stepped closer, his eyes scanning the room quickly before focusing back on me. “This is one of our dealer's house,” he said, voice low but urgent. “We think the guy who lives here is stashing someone—someone we’re looking for.”

I shook my head, still trying to process what was happening, the fear slowly turning into disbelief. “That’s impossible,” I said, backing up a step. “The man who lives here is… he’s the dad of the kids I nanny for.”

Matt’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he glanced toward Chris, who was already walking toward the kitchen. “You think you know what he does in his free time?” he asked, voice a bit colder now, as if doubting me.

“I don't know- I thought,” my voice shaking a little. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I've known him for years, I didn't think there was any way the man who took care of those kids would be involved in whatever shady dealings Matt and Chris were wrapped up in.

Matt didn’t say anything, just glanced toward the kitchen where Chris was already searching through the cabinets. The silence in the room was thick, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to spiral out of control.

Matt’s eyes narrowed, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re out of luck,” he said flatly. “I need answers from him, and I’m not leaving here without them.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, but it didn’t make what Matt was saying any less terrifying. “What am I supposed to do then?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t have me involved in this. What if he finds out I’m wrapped up with you two?” The weight of the situation hit me, and the panic flared again. 

Chris looked at me thoughtfully, like he was considering my words, before his lips curled into a smirk. “We could always pretend we’re tying you up,” he suggested casually, his tone light despite the intensity of the situation. “Make it look like we’re waiting for him to come home. Keeps up the illusion that you’re just some innocent bystander.”

I stared at him, my pulse hammering. As much as I hated the idea, it was the only way I could keep from getting too tangled up in this mess. The alternative didn’t seem any better. “Fine,” I said, my voice tight. “Do it.”

Chris didn’t waste any time. He moved quickly to grab some rope from the kitchen drawer and expertly looped it around my wrists, securing it loosely enough to look real but not too tight to hurt. 

Time felt like it was dragging. The parents would be back in ten minutes, and I could already hear the faint sound of the clock ticking in the background, counting down the seconds. Chris worked quickly, securing the ropes around my wrists in a way that looked real enough to buy them some time, but not tight enough to cause pain.

When he was done, he stepped back, his eyes scanning his work. “That should do it,” he said with a satisfied nod.

Matt gave a small, approving grunt. But just before he turned to follow Chris, he paused and walked back toward me. “Look, I’m sorry it had to be this way,” he said, his voice quieter than before. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, something unexpectedly gentle in the gesture. “We didn’t mean to drag you into this. But I need him to talk, and I don’t have time to mess around.”

I sat still, the warmth of his kiss lingering, but the weight of everything else pressing down on me. The fear was still there, heavy in my chest, but the concern for the kids was all-consuming. If the dad worked for Matt and Chris, what else was going on in this house? 

“You didn’t drag me into any of this, If anything the dad did” I said quietly, my voice strained. “But I’ll play along for now. Just be careful, okay?”

Matt didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on me for a second longer before he turned and followed Chris to finish what they came for. As the seconds ticked by, I sat there, helpless but trying not to panic. The sounds of their movement faded into the background, but I couldn’t shake the tight knot in my stomach. The parents would be back any second now.

The tension in the air was thick, and the seconds felt like hours as I sat there, pretending to be helpless, the ropes pressing against my skin. My mind raced, my heart pounding with each sound that echoed through the house. Then, in the distance, I heard it—the unmistakable rumble of a car pulling into the driveway. My stomach dropped.

Matt didn’t waste a second. He moved quickly, crossing the room and grabbing a roll of tape from a nearby drawer. My eyes widened as he ripped off a strip and pressed it firmly over my mouth, silencing any protest I could have made. I wanted to yell, to ask what the hell was going on, but it was too late.

The door opened, and I heard footsteps from the entryway. The dad walked in, his expression shifting when he saw me tied up on the couch, the rope and the tape making me look like a hostage in some twisted game. His eyes darted between me and the two men who had been quietly lurking around the corner.

"What the hell happened here?" he demanded, his voice shaky with alarm.

Before he could move any closer, Matt and Chris stepped out from behind the corner, both of them with guns drawn, the cold metal glinting in the dim light of the living room. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to make eye contact with the dad, silently pleading with him to stay calm.

“Where’s Steven?” Matt demanded, his voice calm but dangerous, the kind of tone that sent a chill down your spine.

The dad blinked rapidly, his face pale as he took a step back. “I—I don’t know what you're talking about,” he stammered, his hands shaking slightly. “I don’t know where Steven is. I haven’t seen him in days. Please, just let her go. Whatever this is, it’s not about me—”

Chris stepped forward, his gaze cold and calculating. “You’re lying,” he growled. “We know he’s been here. Where are you hiding him?”

The mom came rushing in from behind, her eyes immediately locking on the scene in front of her. “What’s going on?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in panic as she saw Matt and Chris with guns in hand. She froze when she saw me, my hands tied and the tape covering my mouth, but it didn’t take long for her to understand the situation.

The dad, now visibly sweating, held his hands out in front of him as if to ward them off. “I swear to God, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen Steven. Please, you’ve got to believe me. You’ve got to believe us—we’re not involved in whatever this is!”

The mom stood beside him, nodding vigorously, her voice shaking as she added, “We don’t know anything! We’re just a normal family. Please, don’t hurt her.”

Matt and Chris exchanged a look, the tension still hanging in the air. Matt’s gaze never left the dad as he took a step forward. “I’ll be the judge of that. You’ve got five seconds to start talking, or this is going to get a lot worse for everyone here.”

Chris’s gaze never wavered from the dad as he stood there, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sneer, he glanced over at the wife, her face filled with confusion and fear. “Never told your wife you were dealing, huh?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess you’ve got a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

The dad’s face went pale, and for a second, I thought he might break down. The wife blinked at Chris, confusion shifting to shock. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice small and trembling. “What do you mean, dealing?”

The dad’s resolve cracked. His shoulders slumped as he let out a shaky breath, and then he spilled everything. “A year ago... I lost my job. I didn’t know how I was going to pay the bills, take care of the kids... So I started dealing. I never told you. I never wanted you to know... I thought I could keep it all under control. I’m sorry…”

Matt let out a laugh, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “Shut up,” he said, cutting off the dad mid-sentence, his voice sharp and filled with annoyance. He stepped closer, gun still in hand, his gaze deadly serious. “Where’s Steven?”

The dad, now completely broken, didn’t hesitate. “Last I heard, he was hiding out at the warehouse in downtown Boston,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “Please... Please don’t hurt them.”

Chris exchanged a look with Matt, who let out a short, amused snort. “You’re lucky this time,” Matt said, his voice icy. He motioned toward the door with his gun. “We’ll be back if you’re lying.”

With that, the two of them turned, walking toward the front door. They didn’t waste any time, leaving the house in silence, their footsteps echoing in the hallway before the door slammed shut behind them.

The mom stood there for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened. Then, she rushed over to me, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the ropes that had bound my wrists. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she muttered, her voice filled with regret. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know any of this.”

The dad slowly approached too, his face pale and stricken with guilt. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he said, his eyes full of sorrow.

I pulled away from them both, feigning a shaky breath and an overwhelmed look. “I just... I just want to go home,” I said, my voice trembling as I stared up at them, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that had been spinning in my head since Matt and Chris showed up.

I rubbed my wrists dramatically, still playing the part. “That was terrifying,” I added, swallowing hard as if trying to hold back tears. “I didn’t know what they were going to do to me.”

The dad’s face twisted in guilt as he finally finished untying me. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to say...”

The mom nodded, her hands shaking as she reached out to offer a comforting gesture. “You’re safe now,” she said softly, but I could see the worry in her eyes, the fear that their world was crumbling down around them.

I stood up, finally free, and took a step back, putting my hands up in mock reassurance. “It’s fine,” I said, my tone shaky but sincere. “I just need to get out of here. I don’t want any part of this. I need to go home.”

The dad and mom exchanged a glance, both of them looking as if they wanted to apologize again, but I was already moving toward the door.

I barely waited for the front door to close before I bolted for my car. My pulse still hammering in my chest. I threw myself into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut, and started the engine without hesitation.

My fingers were already reaching for my phone before I even pulled out of the driveway. I needed answers. I needed to know what was going on. As soon as the phone rang, I found Matt’s contact, pressing the call button.

When he finally answered, I didn’t hold back.

“Get the fuck to my apartment now!” I screamed into the phone, my voice raw “Now, Matt, now!”

Without waiting for him to respond, I ended the call, tossing my phone into the passenger seat as I sped off down the road. My mind was a blur of thoughts. My stomach churned, as I tried to keep my focus on the road.

By the time I reached my apartment, I could already see Matt’s car parked outside. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed Chris’s car next to it. As I slammed the car into park, I didn't hesitate to rush up the stairs to my door. I unlocked it quickly, my breath shallow as I stepped inside.

And there they were—Matt and Chris, already waiting for me.

Matt’s eyes lifted to mine, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “That was fast,” he said, leaning casually against the wall like nothing was out of the ordinary. Chris was seated on the couch, his eyes scanning the room, looking as unfazed as always.

I shut the door behind me, locking it quickly before turning to face them. My heart was still pounding, but now I felt a different kind of fury burning through me. 

“What the fuck is going on?” I snapped, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice. “Why did you go there?”

Matt pushed off the wall and took a step toward me, his expression still unreadable. “Relax,” he said, his tone cool. “I told you, Steven is on the run from us, with our money.”

I choked back. “What does that have to do with my kid's dad though? I'm never going to be able to watch them again, You know how much those kids mean to me.” This all felt way more personal than before.

Chris looked up at me, his brow arched in curiosity. “Why not?”

I shot him a glare, “I can't just act like being held hostage at their house is fine, Especially if they can't know I'm associated with you two.”

Matt walked over wrapping me in a tight hug, making all of the sadness of leaving my kids behind lessen a little.

I took a deep breath and relaxed into him. “So what happens now?” I asked, my voice quieter, the tension not fully leaving my shoulders.

Matt let go of me glancing at Chris before answering, his gaze steady. “Now, we wait for Steven to make a move. We’ll track him down, you don’t need to worry. You’re not a part of this anymore.”

“Fine,” I muttered, turning away from them and heading for the kitchen to grab a drink. I heard them both chuckle behind me, but I didn’t turn around. 

It was nearly 11 pm when the three of us settled into the couch, the glow of the TV flickering across the room. Matt was on one end, his feet propped up on the coffee table, and Chris sat next to me, barely paying attention to whatever show was on. The quiet voices of the TV was the only sound between us.

Chris was the first to break the silence, sitting up suddenly and glancing over at Matt. “Got a deal. We need to go kid.”

Matt’s eyes flicked toward Chris, a nod of acknowledgment passing between them. Then, Chris turned to me, his gaze lazy but with an edge to it. “You coming?”

Without thinking, I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Maybe it was the restless energy buzzing inside me, or maybe it was just the adrenaline that hadn’t worn off from earlier. Either way, something inside me wanted to go, even if it was a bad idea.

We all stood, I followed Matt and Chris out the door. The cool night air hit me as soon as I stepped outside, and the headlights of Matt’s car cut through the darkness.

When we reached the car, Matt stopped, opening the back and grabbing a hoodie. He handed it to me without a word, his expression serious. “Put this on,” he said, his voice low. “Cover up. These men are scumbags.”

I hesitated for a second, glancing at him before pulling the hoodie on. The fabric swallowed me up. I could feel the weight of his words, the underlying warning behind them. Whoever these men were, they were dangerous. And for some reason, I was excited.

Matt gave me a quick glance, his eyes briefly softening before hardening again. “Let’s go.”

The ride was smooth, and despite the late hour, The hum of the engine filled the car as Matt drove, his hands gripping the wheel with effortless control.

In the backseat, I let myself relax, sinking into the leather, my gaze never leaving Matt. The low beats of Jukebox Joints by A$AP Rocky pulsed through the car, the rhythm adding to the easy vibe of the night. It was one of those moments that felt surreal, yet completely natural.

Matt’s jawline caught the light as he turned the wheel, the scruff of his stubbly beard lining it perfectly. I couldn’t help but watch how it framed his face, the way his blue eyes glowed under the streetlights, glimmering with a mix of cold determination and something else. Maybe it was the faintest softness I caught in them whenever he glanced in the rearview mirror, or the way his lips would curve into the smallest smile when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Matt may seem intimidating—hard, distant, cold. But he was perfect. Every inch of him, from the way his hands moved on the steering wheel to the way his eyes could make me feel like the only thing in the world, was exactly what I needed. I didn’t need to worry. With him in control, everything felt right.

I could feel my heart racing as I thought about him, how everything about him pulled me in deeper. No one had ever made me feel this way—safe, in a strange kind of way. He was exactly what I wanted, and the feeling of knowing that I was exactly where I was meant to be settled deep inside me.

We pulled up to a nondescript house that looked like it had seen better days. The lights were dim, casting shadows across the overgrown lawn. It wasn’t much to look at, but in this world, it didn’t need to be. The muffled noise from inside—the sound of loud voices, clinking glasses, and low laughter—told me everything I needed to know. The moment I stepped out of the car, I could feel the shift in the air, like I was stepping into something dark, something dangerous.

Matt moved ahead, confident, like he owned every inch of this place. Chris was close behind, his eyes scanning the surroundings, alert and ready. 

We reached the door and stepped inside, and immediately, the smell of smoke and alcohol hit me. The house was dark, dimly lit by a few weak lamps, the air thick with tension. I could hear the murmurs of conversation from the men hanging around, but as soon as we entered, the room seemed to freeze.

A few men glanced up, sizing the boys up. They were eyeing Matt and Chris, their faces changing from casual indifference to cautious recognition. These were the kinds of men who knew power when they saw it, and they recognized it immediately in Matt and Chris.

One of the men, a scruffy guy with a beer in hand, stepped forward, attempting a cocky smile. “Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with false charm. “A couple of big shots. You boys here for business, or something else?”

Before I even had time to register his words, the room fell silent. The other men in the room watched the exchange, their gazes shifting uneasily between Matt and Chris. It was like they could feel the weight of the moment like everything had shifted in an instant.

Matt’s gaze flicked over to the guy, his eyes cold and calculating. He didn’t say a word, but his presence alone made the air feel heavy. His silence was more intimidating than any words could have been. He took one step forward, and the man with the beer faltered, taking a half step back as if instinctively knowing he was in over his head.

Chris, standing beside me, didn’t even glance at the guy. He just raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. 

The guy’s eyes widened slightly, and he hesitated. “Look, I didn’t mean anything,” he muttered, clearly unnerved now, his cocky grin gone. “Just—just tryin’ to be friendly.”

The room had gotten deathly quiet, every pair of eyes on Matt and Chris, every single person in that room recognizing the authority they held. Even the man who had been bold enough to speak was backing off, his shoulders slumping.

I wasn’t surprised. Matt and Chris had this effect on people—intimidating, relentless. The way they carried themselves, the unspoken threat that followed them—it made everyone else uneasy. They didn’t have to say much, because the energy they exuded did all the talking for them.

“Good,” Matt finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. He didn’t need to raise it. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

The tension in the room shifted once again, but this time it was with the unmistakable shift from uncertainty to compliance. Everyone knew their place now.

The man who had tried to make small talk took another step back, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, no problem,” he muttered, and just like that, he retreated to the couch, not daring to make another move.

Chris gave a small, almost bored, shrug as he turned to follow Matt deeper into the house. I stayed close behind them.

We walked into a dimly lit room that smelled of stale smoke and tension. The walls were lined with old, worn-out couches, and a few men were lounging around, talking low and eyeing us as we entered. I stayed close to Matt, feeling the weight of their stares.

Matt and Chris sat on one of the couches, and I followed them, sitting down beside Matt. The three men who had been sitting across the room stood and made their way over. They didn’t seem too eager to be here, but when Matt and Chris walked in, the vibe shifted, and they knew better than to act tough.

One of the men, a lanky guy with a beard, took a seat on the couch opposite, the other two following suit. 

Chris didn’t waste any time. He reached into his backpack, pulling out a couple of bricks of coke wrapped tightly in plastic. He placed them on the table with a soft thud, and the men’s eyes immediately locked onto the product, their faces betraying a mix of desire and calculation.

“Here’s the deal,” Chris said, his voice low but commanding. He looked directly at the guy who had been eyeing the coke the hardest. “Two bricks, top quality. You know the price. No games.”

The lanky guy nodded, his fingers twitching as he looked at the bricks. “Yeah, we know the price,” he said, his voice rough. “But we heard you’ve been slacking a bit. No one wants to be stuck with bad product, and we ain't in the habit of losing money.”

Chris didn’t flinch. He leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed, but there was a dangerous edge to him. “If you think you’re gonna sit here and lecture me about quality,” he said calmly, “then maybe you’re in the wrong business. These are the best. You want them, you pay up. Simple.”

The men across from us exchanged quick glances, the tension palpable, but they all knew the deal wasn’t something they could just walk away from. Money was money, and coke was always in demand.

The man sitting closest to Chris leaned forward, taking a good look at the bricks, then glanced up at Matt, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t want any issues this time, Matt. You and Chris are tight, but we’ve heard some rumors. People get too greedy, things go south.”

Matt didn’t flinch. His stare was unyielding, like he wasn’t just the one who made the rules—he was the one who enforced them. His voice was calm but steady, the kind that didn’t allow for negotiation. “If you’ve got concerns, now’s the time to speak. But if you’re just here to waste time, we can walk out the door. I’m not here to argue over rumors.”

The guy swallowed, his jaw tightening. I could see it in their eyes. This wasn’t a game to them. It never was. But Matt made it clear it was his world, and they were just living in it.

The lanky guy looked at the bricks again, then back at Matt. “Alright,” he said, voice shaky now, “let’s do it, no bullshit. We’ll take them.”

Chris grinned, the deal sealed with a nod. The man reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a stack of cash.

Matt reached forward, his fingers brushing the cash as he slid it across the table. He counted it once, then twice, his eyes flicking back up to the men across from him, checking for any sign of hesitation.

“It’s all there,” Matt said, his voice calm but sharp. “Let’s go”

The deal had gone smoothly. The men gathered the bricks, standing quickly, eager to get out of there with the product they just secured. They didn’t dare linger.

Without a word, the men left the room, disappearing into the shadows of the house. The silence that followed felt heavier than before. The tension slowly dissipated, and I relaxed back into the couch, feeling the adrenaline from the deal finally settling.

Matt’s eyes met mine briefly before he stood, nodding to Chris. "Let's go. We've got what we need."

tag-

(divider by @cafekitsune) @tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274 @sturnslutz @secret-sturniolo @vickytaa @matteatmeout @pair-of-pantaloons @theboredknightcat-blog @sturniolostuff @dariellemccaul @mamamadssss

[mattsobvimyfav]

i want to touch him crazy

He’s just ugh

Like ughhhh

[mattsobvimyfav]

I hope the announcement is tip reveals.

That's all thats the post.

[mattsobvimyfav]

I’m bouta bust holy shit

[mattsobvimyfav]

i’m laughing so hard i can’t breathe.