#I HATED THE REFLECTION IN MATTS MIRROR HATED THAT

[localgardenweed]

Remembering on Thursday how I got so pissed at the ugly ass designs for the plushies i made new designs out of rage

[blixains]

Public Parkings and Private Sins (Sylus R18)

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content (NSFW, 18+), Public Sex, Filthy Vaginal Sex and Creampie, Cumplay, Fingering and Oral Sex, Dirty Talk and Degradation, Sex While Driving, Profanity and Graphic Language, Third Person POV, Self-insert Fic

This is inspired by the car chase scene from the most recent main story updates.

Note: This is also available on AO3 as part of a series of car sex scenario featuring all lads love interests.

Written by: @blixains on AO3, TikTok, and X

The tires screamed as they ripped around the tight curve of a dimly lit street, your heart slamming against your ribs, half from adrenaline, half from the half-glass-too-many you’d downed at that underground bar with Sylus an hour ago. Neon lights blurred past the windows. Bullets pinged off the back of the sleek black car too.

“Shit—” you hissed, glancing at Sylus, who sat behind the wheel, unbothered, one hand lazily draped over the steering wheel while the other flicked his gun’s safety off. His blazer hung open, his dress shirt partially unbuttoned from earlier carelessness, and his smirk? That thing should be criminal.

“They’re getting bolder.” His voice was calm, low, almost bored. “Or more suicidal.”

“You’re drunk.”

He scoffed. “Tipsy. Like you. Don’t insult my reflexes.”

Another shot cracked behind you. You cursed and leaned forward.

“I’m taking the wheel. You need both hands if you’re gonna shoot.”

Sylus gave you a look, the one that usually meant, ‘You’re lucky I like you’. “Try not to crash. I hate cleaning blood off leather.”

You scrambled over the center console with a bit more ass than grace, and Sylus didn’t miss the view, you felt it in the heat of his gaze on your thighs as your dress rode up. You slipped into the driver’s seat, grabbed the wheel, and pressed the pedal down like a woman possessed.

He didn’t even buckle in.

Outside, the enemy car was still behind, but you took a hard right through traffic, weaving between taxis and unaware civilians like you had a death wish. Sylus leaned out of the window, one knee on the seat, unholstering a sleek matte pistol. When he fired, it was smooth and precise. A window shattered in the black SUV tailing you.

“That’s one,” he muttered, settling back inside.

“Could you shoot faster?” You snapped, swerving around a truck.

“Could you drive less like a civilian?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Later,” he said smoothly, that crooked smirk curving his lips. “When we’re not being shot at.”

It was insane how calm he was. The more chaos erupted around him, the more at ease he seemed to be. You caught his reflection in the rearview mirror, silver hair tousled by the wind, pupils still blown from the drinks, and the faint glow of red blooming in one eye.

You hated how hot that was.

Eventually, you lost the tail. You ducked into a sea of thick, congested traffic near the bridge, horns blaring, and every car around you crawling at a snail’s pace. You stopped in the middle lane, catching your breath, the heat between you almost worse than the gunfire.

Sylus sprawled back into his seat, rolling his neck.

You turned to look at him. Really look.

“…Have you always been this fucking jacked?” Your eyes dragged slowly across his chest, lingering on the tight stretch of his shirt, where buttons fought to contain his chest and abs. “I swear to god, you’ve grown an entire new muscle group.”

He gave a low chuckle, tilting his head at you, cocky as ever.

“You’ve been ogling me this whole time, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been driving,” you said, though your gaze hadn’t moved from his chest. “But I’ve got peripheral vision. And it’s telling me you’ve been doing something in that gym when I wasn’t looking.”

Sylus reached up lazily to loosen another button. You watched the next sliver of skin appear, your mouth suddenly dry. His voice dropped lower, just enough to scrape your nerves.

“You sure it’s the gym, sweetheart?”

You blinked. “What, did you evolve into this out of spite?”

“I adapt quickly.” His smirk widened. “Unlike you, apparently. You’re still drooling.”

“I am not—”

He leaned closer. The crowded traffic outside disappeared from your awareness completely. His hand slid over to your thigh, warm and steady.

“Say it,” he murmured, “Say you want to fuck me right here with your foot still on the brake.”

Your breath hitched.

Traffic crawled, and the sun had started to lower behind the skyline, slanting a burnished gold across the dashboard. You were sweating, not from the heat, but from him.

You glanced over at him. His smirk hadn’t moved.

“You don’t get to look like that after a gunfight.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re still talking about my arms?”

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Your everything looks suspicious right now. Like a fucking cheat code.”

Sylus hummed lazily.

Then his hand… moved.

Slow at first. Not even touching you. Just hovering near your thigh like he was testing the air pressure, like he had all the time in the goddamn world and knew you didn’t.

Your pulse jumped.

He didn’t touch.. no, not yet. His knuckles ghosted close, brushing the hem of your dress. His fingers dragged slow arcs against the fabric. Not even skin yet, and it was already lighting your nerves on fire.

“Sylus…” you warned under your breath, though you didn’t really mean it.

He tilted his head just enough for his hair to shift over his forehead. “You’re driving. I’m not doing anything.”

His fingers slipped a little higher. Not quite between your legs. Just to the edge of your inner thigh, where heat pooled and your panties were already damp with how long you’d been thinking about this smug bastard.

“You’re stalling,” he murmured, red eyes on the road ahead, not even looking at you. “You want me to touch you, but you’re trying to pretend you don’t.”

“I just escaped death by car chase.”

“So you’re still alive,” he said coolly, dragging a single finger along your thigh. “Might as well feel like it.”

You cursed under your breath. His hand hovered again, then this time… finally pressed down.

His fingers slid beneath your dress slowly. There was no rush in him. His touch was deliberate and teasing. He brushed the thin line of your inner thigh, fingers spreading slightly, your breath catching as the pads of his fingertips skimmed the edge of your panties.

Then he paused.

He didn’t speak.

Just let that charged silence stretch between you while his fingers rested there, firm but unmoving. As if waiting for you to beg.

You gripped the wheel tighter. “Sylus—”

“Shh.”

With no more warning, he slid two fingers against the center of your panties. Right where it was wet. You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth. The fabric was no protection at all. He dragged his fingers up, slow as sin, letting the soaked material cling to you as he stroked lightly. He was still looking at the windshield.

You felt like you were going to combust.

“That’s soaked,” he said, voice low. “You’ve been like this since I pulled the trigger, haven’t you?”

“Damn you.”

He chuckled.

“I think I’ll take my time.” his fingers hooked into your panties and pushed them aside in one smooth, practiced motion, knuckles brushing hot skin.

The cool air of the car hit your soaked folds, and you gasped. His fingers slid between your slick pussy lips. He groaned, low and almost to himself. You tried to keep your foot steady on the brake as he slipped a finger inside you.

Then another.

Fucking hell.

His fingers curled just right, slow and deliberate. He moved like he was trying to memorize the way your walls clutched around him. The heel of his palm dragged against your clit, subtle and devastating.

“I should stop,” he said. “Traffic’s moving again.”

You glanced out the windshield. Three whole cars had moved ahead. You hadn’t even noticed. “Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

He leaned over just slightly, mouth at your ear now, voice a shade darker.

“Then drive,” he murmured. “Let’s see how well you multitask with your pussy squeezing my fingers.”

You tried to breathe evenly as traffic inched forward again. Foot off the brake, hands on the wheel. Your thighs tense, your pulse thudding through every nerve ending. You were driving… technically. The car was moving. But your brain? Your brain had been hijacked by Sylus’s fingers buried inside your soaking cunt.

He sat reclined in the passenger seat like he wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, like he wasn’t curling his fingers inside you just right while you attempted to operate heavy machinery. Every slow stroke made your hips shift involuntarily. Every time he pressed his palm up against your clit, your foot twitched on the gas.

“You’re gripping the wheel so tight, sweetie,” Sylus muttered, eyes lazily half-lidded as he watched you. His voice dripped with smug satisfaction. “Should I be jealous of that poor steering wheel?”

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t. Not when he crooked his fingers inside you. Like he knew exactly where your sweet spot lived and wanted to make you crash the damn car just to prove a point.

Your mouth dropped open in a soundless gasp. Your hips jerked forward slightly, legs spreading more, instinctively trying to chase the friction his fingers offered.

“Oh… fuck, Sylus—”

That earned you a grin.

“I love when you say my name like that.” His thumb moved to brush your clit now, the movement lazy and circular. Not fast enough to finish you. Just enough to drive you insane. “You know how many enemies I’ve shot in the face today and didn’t blink? But this—” he curled his fingers again, dragging them out and back in with obscene squelches that made your cheeks burn, “—this is the part I enjoy.”

You couldn’t look at him. If you looked at him, you were going to fall apart right there in traffic.

“I swear to god, if I crash this car—”

“Crash, and I’ll finger you harder,” he muttered against your neck, suddenly leaning in to kiss the skin just under your ear. “Maybe I’ll even fuck you over the hood while the city watches.”

Your foot pressed down on the gas a little too fast. The engine growled.

His fingers pumped into you with more confidence now, the rhythm slick and steady, the heel of his hand rocking against your clit just enough to keep you wet and shaking. Then, you felt it building tight in your abdomen. You gritted your teeth.

“Sylus, fuck—don’t stop.”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’re close already? What happened to all that mouth, sweetheart?”

Your thighs were trembling. You tried to keep your hands steady, tried to keep the car moving straight, but it was so fucking hard when his fingers were fucking into you like that, massaging your inner walls like he’d studied the blueprints of your body.

Then he leaned in again, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Come for me,” he murmured, breath hot and filthy. “While you’re driving. Come on, sweetie.”

That did it.

Your foot stuttered on the gas again as the orgasm hit violently. Your mouth parted in a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering half-shut as your hips rocked forward, riding his fingers through it, the pleasure rippling out in waves you barely controlled.

Sylus didn’t pull away.

He kept those fingers deep, feeling every clench around them, letting you squeeze and shake and twitch under his hand. You swore the bastard moaned, low in his throat.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, voice molten with amusement and arousal. “You drive like a goddess when you’re dripping all over my hand.”

You swallowed hard. You were still panting, still twitching around him.

“You’re a fucking menace,” you muttered.

“I know,” he said, smug as ever.

The second your legs stopped trembling enough to trust the brakes, you swerved into the nearest public parking lot with no intention of making it subtle. The tires crunched over gravel as you pulled into a far-off space beneath a flickering light pole, half-hidden behind a dirty white delivery van.

You threw the car into park and exhaled hard, still flushed, panties still shoved to the side, Sylus’s fingers soaked with your release and still resting between your thighs like he had no plans of moving them. The bastard looked too smug for someone who nearly made you get off in traffic.

But you weren’t done either.

Your eyes flicked to the backseat. “Move.”

Sylus raised a brow. “Oh?”

“I said move, Sylus.”

There was a glint in his red eyes, hungry and amused. He slid out of the passenger seat with that unhurried elegance of his and slipped into the back like a fucking panther claiming his territory. You followed, crawling between the front seats without a second thought, the heat between your thighs only getting worse the second your legs were free again.

You didn’t waste time. The moment you turned and dropped back into the middle of the car, your spine curved over the edge of the front seat, arms bracing against it as you spread your legs wide, one heel pressed against the left rear door, the other hooked awkwardly behind the front passenger seat.

Your panties were still crooked and soaked. Your slick glistened in the low light, and Sylus’s eyes dropped to it like gravity pulled them there.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, silver hair falling over his brow.

“Well,” he murmured, sinking to his knees between your spread thighs, one hand bracing your knee open. “You do know how to beg without speaking.”

You glared. “If you’re not gonna eat it, I’ll find someone who will.”

He chuckled. “You always get this bratty when you’re desperate?”

Then he didn’t wait anymore.

He leaned in.

His mouth met your pussy like he meant it. No teasing now. No fingers hovering, no mocking. His tongue licked a wide, slow stripe from the bottom of your slit to the aching bundle of nerves at the top. He groaned into you like it fed something in him.

“Fucking—” your hips jerked. “God, Sylus—”

He didn’t answer. Just locked his arms under your thighs, dragging you impossibly closer, your ass nearly off the seat now, suspended by his grip and your folded spine over the front seat.

Then he got filthy with it.

His mouth latched onto your clit, sucking hard enough to make your whole vision white out for a second. His tongue flicked, slow and steady, circling you, then flattening out to press fully against your soaked folds. He moaned again, like he liked the taste of you way more than he should.

And you?

You were wrecked.

Your fingers clawed at the front seat, breathing heavy, chest heaving. Your thighs quivered from how wide he kept them spread. His tongue slid inside you now, curling just like his fingers had minutes ago.

“Sylus—fuck, right there, a-ah—!”

He pulled back just a little to speak, lips slick, red eyes glowing faintly under the dim parking lot lights. “Louder,” he said. “Let’s make sure the whole damn lot hears how sweet you sound.”

He dove back in before you could snap something back.

His tongue flicked your clit with ruthless rhythm now, while one hand moved and slid two fingers deep into your slick cunt. He pumped them in time with his mouth, moaning against you, nose brushing your clit as he devoured you.

You were shaking again. You couldn’t stay quiet. The slap of his fingers and the obscene sounds of his mouth on you echoed in the car.

“Ah—I’m gonna—!”

You shattered.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, brutal and hot. You gasped, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his arms held you wide, kept you open for him as he kept licking through it, dragging out every twitch and cry and soaked ripple of pleasure.

Your whole body sagged back, boneless and fucked-out, still twitching with aftershocks. You barely realized he’d slowed his fingers, dragging them out so painfully slow, coated in your cum, lips brushing your inner thigh like a closing kiss.

When he finally looked up, he wiped his mouth, then licked the fingers he’d pulled out of you like you were the first real meal he’d had in weeks.

“Now that was better than killing people,” he muttered.

The windows were fogged. Your inner thighs glistened under the low, flickering light. Your chest still rose and fell in uneven pulls of breath, but Sylus wasn’t even winded. He rose from between your legs with the same easy grace he always carried, like he hadn’t just buried his face between your thighs and ruined your ability to think.

But your eyes weren’t on his face anymore.

They dropped, immediately, to the sharp ridge in his slacks.

He noticed.

“Oh?” He said, head tilting with deliberate mockery. His voice was silk over steel, taunting as hell. “Didn’t even touch me and I’m already hard as a fucking rock. Look what you’ve done.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes were too busy staying locked on the shape in his pants, the obvious, mouth-watering bulge that had your throat drying up fast. His hand brushed over it absently, fingers slow like he wasn’t just adjusting, he was posing for you. And you were falling for it.

He smirked, caught the way your thighs twitched again, how your gaze sharpened.

“You keep staring,” he said as he undid the belt. “You’ll have to deal with it.”

Then the zipper.

Then silence.

You blinked and he pulled his cock free.

Fuck.

Thick, fucking big. Long enough to stir something primal in your gut, your breath hitching instantly. It curved slightly upward, veins ridged and pronounced, tip flushed dark and already glistening with pre-cum. Even the way he held it, gripped lazily at the base, thumb stroking along the side like he was toying with your sanity was enough to make your mouth fall open.

“You gonna say something?” Sylus asked, voice smug and lazy. “Or are you just gonna keep eye-fucking it like you’ve forgotten how to speak?”

You swallowed.

“…you keep getting bigger,” you muttered, voice hoarse, low. Admitting it only made him grin wider.

He leaned forward slightly, cock in hand, brushing the flushed head against your inner thigh, not even on your clit, just there. Teasing. Letting it smear a trail of pre-cum across your skin.

“Sweetie,” he murmured, voice low, lips almost against your ear now, “you should’ve known from the attitude alone.”

You twitched.

He dragged the thick head down, slow and deliberate, nudging your slick folds just barely, just enough for you to feel how wide he’d stretch you, how deep he’d sit. But he didn’t push in. No. He just pressed his cock against your entrance and slid it upward, letting it glide through your pussy lips without ever giving you what you actually wanted.

“Still wet from my mouth,” he murmured against your neck. “Good.”

His cock rubbed along your clit again, making your hips twitch, chasing it. But he pulled back just a little, his hand gripping the base as he tapped it twice against your entrance with obscene little slaps.

“I should just make you beg for it,” he said, watching your face closely. “Should I?”

His cock was still in his hand.

Heavy, flushed, soaked now in your slick as he dragged the head through your folds again and again, testing your limits. The veins along the shaft pulsed with every lazy stroke, and every brush over your clit made your thighs jolt. Your muscles were tense, your breathing uneven, and your whole body practically buzzed with the need to be filled.

But Sylus wasn’t done playing.

“Look at that,” he said, watching his cock slide up the length of your pussy without ever sinking in. “You’re soaked. You’ll take me easy, won’t you?”

You let out a frustrated breath through your nose. Your thighs trembled with every pass of his tip over your clit. Your hands had been gripping the front seat for support, but you snapped because he wasn’t going to stop until you did something about it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, voice shaking.

You moved without hesitation, one hand flying down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, warm and twitching in your grip. His eyes widened slightly, not expecting the sudden move.

“Someone’s getting bold,” he murmured, but you didn’t answer. You shifted your hips, lined him up, panties already shoved to the side, cunt soaked and twitching for him, and pushed down.

The head stretched you instantly, thick and unrelenting. Your walls gripped him so tight, even the initial press in made your back arch, mouth parting in a strangled sound. You didn’t even wait, you sank further, gasping out a moan as the thick inches filled you slow, slow, deep—

“Fuck—!” you whimpered, nails digging into the seat.

Sylus groaned low under his breath, hips flexing forward instinctively at the heat of your pussy swallowing him.

You bottomed out with a broken cry.

He was all the way in. Every inch of him stuffed inside, and you could feel it, feel every twitch of his cock, feel the stretch, the fullness, the pressure so deep it made your toes curl. Your thighs trembled on either side of him, wide open, your ass just barely on the seat.

Sylus hissed a breath through his teeth, one hand gripping your waist tight. “Desperate little thing,” he growled against your ear. “Couldn’t wait, huh?”

“I’ve had enough of your teasing,” you snapped, but your voice cracked, wrecked from the feeling of him pulsing so deep inside you.

He chuckled, low. “Guess you do know how to beg. Just not with words.”

His hips shifted just enough to move inside you and your breath hitched again. You were still getting used to the size of him, how he seemed to stretch you in every direction, slow and unforgiving. You tried to lift your hips, adjust—

But his hand slammed down on your thigh, holding you in place.

“No,” Sylus said, mouth right by your neck. “You don’t get to move now. You made the choice.”

Then he pulled back just an inch, then slammed forward again, enough to make your whole body jolt.

Your moan echoed inside the car.

His cock dragged out of you slow, so slow it felt like your entire body clenched around the absence of him.

The thickness of it scraped along your inner walls like he was trying to memorize every inch of you from the inside. The veins, the curve, the stretch.. all of it made your breath choke in your throat.

Then he slammed back in.

“Ah!” You cried out, body jolting forward against the front seat, hands braced uselessly on the leather as he bottomed out again with that same unforgiving rhythm.

Sylus groaned, sharp and rough. One hand gripped your hip with bruising force, the other slid between your legs, palm flattening low on your belly just to feel the outline of himself moving inside you.

“You feel that?” He rasped. “That’s me all the way in. Fuck, you’re tight, sweetie.”

You could barely answer. The sheer stretch had your legs shaking, your pussy sucking him in greedily with every thrust. His cock was too thick, too deep, too much, and still…

Still it wasn’t enough.

You needed more. Needed him harder. Deeper.

“F-faster,” you begged, voice raw and wrecked. “Please, Sylus—deeper—just—fuck—don’t stop—!”

He chuckled low, teeth grazing the back of your shoulder. “Now you’re starting to sound like you need it.”

He pulled out again, slow and torturous, until only the thick, swollen head remained inside your dripping pussy, and then snapped his hips forward, hard. You gasped, body slamming against the seat, his cock plunging back into your soaked pussy with a filthy squelch that echoed in the car.

Your legs nearly gave out.

“You like this cock wrecking your little cunt, don’t you?” He hissed, picking up the pace, slamming in and out of you with raw, deliberate force. “Fucking dripping down my cock. Can’t believe how wet you got just from teasing.”

You were crying out now, sobbing his name between broken moans, your voice shaking every time he pounded into you. His cock curved just enough to hit your spot every single thrust, making your walls flutter tight around him like you were already about to come.

“S-Sylus—fuck—don’t stop—don’t stop—please,” you begged, voice high and desperate.

He reached forward, fisted your hair, pulled your head back with a groan in your ear. “Then say it right,” he growled, cock grinding deep, deeper, hitting your cervix with a bruising kiss.

Your knees buckled. “—please don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop!”

His grip on your hips tightened. He snarled under his breath, pace suddenly brutal now, slamming into you like a man possessed, fucking you with focused force. Your pussy clamped around him, loud wet sounds filling the car, your moans dissolving into gasps and incoherent cries as he hit that spot again, and again, and again.

“Good girl,” he hissed, hips slapping against your ass now. “You beg so fucking pretty.”

Every thrust drove you closer, while your walls clench around his cock with desperate hunger, each slam harder than the last. His free hand had found your clit again, fingers circling it in tight, furious spirals as his hips thrust deep and faster. You could feel every ridge of his cock, the way it stretched you, filled you, consumed you.

You were teetering on the edge, vision blurring. Your heart thundered in your ears.

“Sylus—please—!” you wailed, voice raw.

He groaned, a deep, animalistic sound, and pressed his thumb down hard on your clit. His thrusts became savage, pulling nearly all the way out, then slamming back in so fast your head slammed against the headrest. You could barely breathe as the overload of movement and friction set your nerves alight.

“Fuck—!” you screamed, profile pressed into the seat.

Then it happened.

Your climax ripped through you. Your back arched, thighs shaking as your pussy clenched violently around his cock. Your toes curled, your nails dug into the leather, and a hot, blinding wave of pleasure shattered you. You clamped down on him, panting, your cries echoing in the cramped car.

But Sylus didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you. Faster. Harder. His thumb rubbed your clit in maddening circles, drawing out every twitch, every ragged gasp. And as the overwhelming sensitivity made your body convulse, a warm gush of clear liquid spurted from you, wetness flooding his cock, running down, dripping off your thighs.

You couldn’t hold back. It sprayed in little jets, slick and astonishingly abundant, like you’d peed, only so much more intense, more urgent.

“Shit,” he breathed, slowing his pace only slightly, leaning forward to lap up the squelching wetness at your entrance before burying his cock all the way in again. Each stroke drove more of your release out, splattering the backseat carpet.

You hung on the edge of another orgasm, legs trembling.

He hammered into you, thumb still circling your clit, teasing the last shreds of your high.

Your second climax hit you like a punch, but no less explosive, igniting your drenched core again. You screamed, gripping the front seat so hard your knuckles went white.

He rode you through every spasm, thrusting until you were entirely spent, until your legs folded around him, until his cock felt like the only thing keeping you from collapsing completely.

Your breath came in sobs and shaky gasps as you collapsed back against the seat, utterly wrecked.

You barely had time to breathe.

Your legs were still twitching from your second orgasm, your pussy raw and soaked from everything he’d dragged out of you. But Sylus wasn’t done. His cock was still hard, still dripping with your juices, and the way he gripped your hips, it told you everything.

He was going to finish. And he was going to finish inside.

“Get back here,” he growled, dragging you by the waist again, positioning you over his lap now, your knees straddling the center console while his back leaned against the rear seat. “I’m not wasting a drop.”

Your arms trembled as you balanced on top of him. You barely managed to grab his cock, still soaked and twitching in your grip. The size of him never stopped being shocking thick, a vein running along the underside like a warning.

You didn’t ease him in. You sank down, hard.

“F-fuck—!” Your mouth dropped open as the stretch hit all over again, even more brutal now that you were overstimulated. Your pussy clenched around him immediately, too tight, too goddamn wet. He filled you up fast, his cockhead punching deep, and your walls locked around him like you didn’t want to let him go.

Sylus hissed between his teeth, jaw tight. “Sweetie, you’re still dripping. Still milking my cock like you need it.”

You could barely speak. He was buried deep. So deep you felt it in your gut. The angle made him hit everything, every nerve, every sweet spot, and you were already close again.

But he grabbed your waist, held you still.

“No,” he muttered, eyes burning red beneath his silver lashes. “I’m in control now.”

Then he slammed up into you.

Your moan shattered the air, loud and helpless. He started thrusting up into your pussy from below, forcing you to take it again, each stroke brutal and thick and fast. His grip on you tightened, one hand on your waist, the other grabbing your ass, pulling you down to meet every thrust.

Wet sounds echoed. Your arousal mixed with his precum, coating both of you in sticky heat.

“I’m close,” he growled, fucking up into you now in a punishing rhythm, teeth gritted. “You want it inside? Want me to ruin this pussy?”

You were already gone. “Yes—yes, inside—please—Sylus—fill me up—fill me—!”

That was all it took.

His entire body tensed. He shoved you down on his cock one last time and held you there, balls pressed tight against your skin.

That’s when he came.

Hot, thick ropes of cum flooded your insides, each pulse stronger than the last. His cock jerked inside you, every twitch coating your walls. You felt it filling you up, spreading deep, dripping out around his cock as your cunt clenched tight to milk every drop.

You gasped, eyes fluttering, as the sensation overwhelmed you. You could feel it leaking out already, a slow, sticky trickle down your thighs.

Sylus exhaled roughly, forehead dropping against your shoulder. “Fuck… you’re a mess,” he murmured, his voice ragged with satisfaction. “Look at you.”

You trembled against him, boneless, lips barely forming words. “I don’t care,” you breathed. “Just… keep it in.”

And he did. He kept you right there, cock still buried deep, cum still leaking slowly as the two of you sat in that ruined back seat.

He chuckled darkly in your ear.

You were still on top of him, his cock softening slowly inside you, the heat of his cum thick and unmistakable between your thighs. The windows were fogged. Your skin glistened with sweat. And neither of you had moved an inch.

You tried, feebly, to lift your hips, but Sylus just smirked and kept you there, one lazy hand sliding along the curve of your ass to make sure nothing spilled out.

“Don’t waste it,” he muttered, nipping at your shoulder with a sharpness that made you flinch. “I worked hard for that.”

You scoffed breathlessly. “You fucked like you were trying to breed me.”

“Was I successful?”

You rolled your eyes, head lolling back against the seat, until you heard it. A sound. Footsteps. Talking. A goddamn stroller squeaking by.

Your eyes shot open.

“…We’re still in a public parking lot,” you hissed, panic rushing back into your bloodstream. You tried to sit up again, but his grip was firm.

“Mmhm,” Sylus hummed, completely unbothered, eyes still half-lidded and smug. “And your legs are still open. You want them to see the mess I made of you?”

“Are you serious right now—”

A sharp tap tap hit the window.

You both froze.

Outside the passenger side window, blurred slightly by fog and cum-smear, stood an old security guard with a walkie-talkie in hand and a very pointed look on his face. He couldn’t see anything, thank fuck, but he clearly knew.

Sylus didn’t flinch. In fact, his only reaction was a slow, sideways grin.

You panicked, trying to sit up, trying to yank down your dress, but Sylus kept his hands where they were, still gripping your waist. His cock twitched once, inside you, still thick and warm.

He leaned toward the window, bare chest on full display through his open shirt.

The man outside raised a brow. Sylus raised one back.

Then? The window rolled down automatically. Sylus had pressed the button with one long finger, just for the hell of it.

“Problem?” He asked dryly.

You were dying. Dying. Hiding your face in his shoulder, wishing you could evaporate.

The security guard cleared his throat. “Sir. Ma’am. This is… not a private space.”

“I wasn’t aware she needed privacy to enjoy herself.” Sylus’s voice was velvet and violence.

The man blinked.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” he muttered finally, eyes looking everywhere except at you. “Then I expect this car out of the lot.”

As soon as the window rolled back up, you punched Sylus in the shoulder, hard.

“You’re insane! Are you proud of yourself?!”

“Immensely,” he said without missing a beat. “I made you squirt, came so deep I can feel it dripping, and now we have a witness to how shameless you are.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

“…You’re a menace.”

He grinned, licking your shoulder once, slow and amused.

“I’m your menace.”

[bernardsbendystraws]

Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL

Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

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01: open up the door 

The hot flashes of light didn’t take away from his eyes burning into my skin. Every pose, I’d catch a quick glance of him in the corner of my eyes, but he just wouldn’t look away. Matt simply sighed, wandering around the set. 

“Relax your face a bit and…perfect,” the director guides. My lips fall into a subtle smile. I can feel Manon, the other model, leaning against me, moving with ease and grace as I struggle to keep up. 

They weren’t critiquing her—only me. She was perfect. Years of modeling experience, a face that could fit with any vibe and aesthetic…she didn’t have anything to worry about. I did. The problem was me. Any issue they found, it was my fault. 

At first, it was my hands. I kept fidgeting, not realizing the awkward position of my fingers would stand out that much. They did. And they made sure to tell me just how much. 

“Okay, and….there!” 

Danny, my manager, calls me up as the camera stops flashing. My skin feels heavy—almost as if it’s wet. It wasn’t the physical labor that drained me, it was the emotional exhaustion. The constant directions, the aggressive tones…it all hurt a bit too much. 

Walking back to my makeup chair, I stare into the reflection. I don’t look like me, I don’t even feel like me. A hand lands on my shoulder. I don’t have to look up to know who it is, it’s him. 

“You good?” Matt asks. 

Nodding silently in response to him, he sighs. The light pressure of his hand massages onto my shoulder. I feel my muscles relax under his grasp, but the sound of steps makes my back jolt up straight. 

“Hey, babe?” 

Babe. I hated that name. 

A huff pushes through my lips as I force myself to look over at him—Hayden. Matt’s hand drops from my shoulder. I frown, missing the warmth. 

“You’re late.” 

Matt’s bitter statement makes Hayden shrug, rolling his eyes. 

“I got caught up in some things. Relax, man,” he says, walking over closer. I shy back into the chair as Hayden walks over to my side. “How was it, babe?” 

Babe. I bite my tongue as I shove miscellaneous items of mine back into my purse from the makeup vanity top. “It was okay, I just…why are you so late?” I ask. 

Looking at him through the mirror, I see him staring at his phone. Of course. 

“Are you—” 

Hearing Matt’s spitting tone, I look over my shoulder to give him a pointed glare. Don’t. The silent warning is enough. Matt shakes his head, walking away with heavy shoulders. 

I hear Hayden laugh. Turning to look at him, I’m met with the sight of him leaning forward. Before I can even process anything, his arms tightly wrap around me. My body tenses as I lightly pat his back. 

“Thanks,” I mumble. 

“Mhm. I have a date planned for us tonight.” My eyes widen at his statement. Tonight? “It’s that event you really wanted to go to. That bonfire night with all your friends and shit.”

Oh. The bonfire. I had asked him about it nearly a week ago, saying I wanted to go with friends. Although, the ‘friends’ implied Matt and his brothers. And a couple other people, but Hayden didn’t let me even get to their names before shutting the idea down completely. 

Apparently, I only ever hung around them anymore. But I knew ‘them’ wasn’t the problem. It was Matt—and Chris, but mostly Matt. After Hayden learned Nick was gay, he didn’t care very much if I hung out with him or not. He didn’t openly say it, but I saw the hints of insecurity in the ways he gritted his teeth when spitting out Matt’s name. 

Not only did it piss me off, but it was tiring. I wanted him to just say it. He had no reason to doubt me and I knew he was projecting. I was hoping it was just his own insecurities, but sometimes the way he smiled typing on his phone made me doubt how loyal he was. 

“Babe?” 

Babe. My teeth clenching into the side of my cheek pull me back to reality. I nod over at him, slinging my bag over my shoulder and standing by his side as we walk out. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks for, um…” thanks for taking me to an event I wanted to go to without you? “---let’s just go to your place and eat real quick. I’m starving,” I say, opting out of much conversation as we walk to his car. 

My hand attempts to pull open the passenger door, failing as the car remains locked. I look through the car windows, seeing him smiling down at his phone. 

“Hayden?” I call out. 

His head whips up, the look of realization plastering onto his face as he quickly unlocks the car and climbs in. I follow his actions and climb inside the vehicle, shrinking into the chair with paranoia. 

Is he doing it right in front of me? Is he texting some other girl? 

“Okay, yeah,” he states, shutting off his phone and throwing it into the cupholder. I look over at him, watching as he starts to drive down the road. “---Noah is just gonna meet us there with his girl.” 

Squinting my eyes shut, I swallow a thick lump. He was texting Noah. Why would he take me on a date tonight if he was cheating on me? Why did I have to assume the worst? 

Why was I projecting? 

“Let’s get ready real quick. I might need you to make us dinner while I shower. We’re short on time and I can’t go like this,” he grabs his shirt, gesturing to the random stains covering his clothes. 

Reaching over, I try to rub out the stain. My eyebrows furrow at the color, a neon green painted stain in the pale orange graphic T-shirt. “What even is this?” I question. 

“Uhhh….” he scratches his head as he turns down the street. “---I think it’s some sort of goop? I don’t know, we did a Halloween theme for the video today, you know, pre-filming.” 

The weight of my body relaxes back into the passenger seat as I hum in acknowledgment. Hayden made a podcast, one with all his ‘boys.’ I wasn’t the biggest fan. Sometimes, they said things that just didn’t sit right with me. But, it wasn’t my place to talk. It was his career and he had reminded me that I didn’t have to watch it.

I didn’t anymore. Not because of his comment, but because everytime I tried to watch it, I could hear my judgmental thoughts pushing forward. And it wasn’t my place to judge. It reminded me that I was the problem, that I was self sabotaging my life in any way possible. 

“You okay, babe?” 

Cringing, I nod curtly. “Yeah, just tired.” 

My statement is quickly brushed off as he moves forward, turning up the volume to the music. The loud blasting makes my ears rush with a buzz. Why? I just said that I was tired. 

“Are you serious?” I spit, the words falling out of my mouth before I can stop them. 

Hayden pauses, turning down the music before shrinking back into his seat. “---’m sorry. I…I just got excited.” 

Regret makes my heart feel heavy as we sit in an uncomfortable silence. Pursing my lips together, I reach out for his hand. The limb lays unmoving. “I’m sorry, I just…I—” 

Slowly sliding his hand back into his lap, my body runs stiff. “You were just tired. I know. I…I can never do anything right. It just…I’m taking you somewhere you wanted to go after I worked all day. You…you never act like this with your friends. Why do you always—-you know what, forget it. We’re gonna have a good night. It’s…it’s whatever.” 

His words make my skin crawl with an itch of disappointment. He tries. I sabotage. The opportunity of love I had always wanted was right in front of me, but my doubts and anger manifested constantly. I couldn’t imagine how he felt. How disappointed would he be if he knew the thoughts that ran through my head? 

The car pulls into the driveway of his apartment. We walk into the minimalistic building silently, the elevator ride feeling like eternity. 

“Just…I’ll go shower.” 

He walks off down the hallway. My feet carry me to the kitchen while I start to rummage through the pantry and fridge. There’s plenty of options. Pasta, frozen meals, salads, and even pre-done things. I don’t know what he wants though. 

Taking slow steps towards his bathroom, I knock on the door. “Ha—” 

My lips slam shut as I hear an undeniable sound of moaning. Teary-eyed, I press my ear to the door, listening to the running water and lewd noises. 

“Oh! Yes!”

The moans and slapping noises are fake, an obnoxious porn video looping on repeat while I stay frozen in place. He’s not cheating. He just doesn’t want me. 

Who would want someone that makes them feel so less-than? 

My feet patter lightly on the clean floors. I pull out a frozen pizza, putting it in the oven before laying on the couch. Swadling myself in a couple of blankets, I let out a shaky breath. I feel my phone vibrate, looking down at the screen to see a text from him—Matt. 

| From Matt: I heard you’re coming to the bonfire tonight with him. | 

Swallowing a thick lump, I feel a tightness gather in my chest. 

| To Matt: Yeah. I didn’t know until now. Apparently I’m going with him and Noah and Paige | 

The dots appearing on my screen are hypnotizing as I wait for him to send a message back. It doesn’t distract from the muffled noises coming from the bathroom, the fake moans meshed with familiar groans makes my stomach start to feel uneasy. Swarms of anxiety and loathing combine into a brutal mess. 

| From Matt: Are we gonna be allowed to hang out? Or is he gonna be manhandling you all night again? | 

Letting my phone drop on the couch, I heave in a shaky breath. He wasn’t wrong. It still didn’t feel nice to hear though. The last time we had all hung out at a party was a nightmare. Hayden’s arm around my shoulders was practically sewn into my skin. He dragged me to every corner, talking to all of his friends. Then he got mad at me when he saw me texting Matt. 

To say the least, the night didn’t end well. But, it wasn’t just his fault. He wanted to spend time with me, introduce me to his friends. I was the one who was staring at my phone all night, texting Matt from across the room because I couldn’t stand listening to him and his friends trash talk things I loved. 

I should’ve just sucked it up. Maybe the night wouldn’t have ended so terribly if I had just been a good girlfriend and actually tried to relate to his friends. It was my fault. I grew silent instead of redirecting the conversation. The effort was non-existent on my end. 

Getting so caught up in my own thoughts, I barely register Hayden’s figure walking into the living room while tugging a muted red T-shirt over his head. His slick hair is dripping onto the fabric, his gaze shifting around the room until his eyes land on me. 

“Did you set a timer?” he asks, nodding his head over in the direction of the oven. 

Fuck.

__________

Cracks of firewood and cedar blister through the air. The spit from the fire lands on my hand, a slight sting making me clap onto my own arm. 

“Did it spit at you? Are you good?” Matt asks from beside me. 

Opening my mouth to respond, I’m cut off by Hayden tugging his arm tighter around my shoulders, repositioning me to turn and face Noah and Niki. Their conversation is blurred by my instincts. I whip my head around, giving Matt a quick sympathetic frown. He sighs, looking down before walking away. 

“---tell them how you got a new gig today, babe.” Hayden looks down at me with wide eyes, urging me to speak. My mouth gapes as I stare at the three pairs of eyes. 

“It’s…uh, it’s for Space Camp. Nick’s new brand.” I answer. The looks on their faces tell me more than their words. Smiles of acknowledgment fade into an aura of judgment. He’s my friend, it’s not a job—it’s a favor. 

Their conversation is blurred by my overbearing thoughts. Crashing waves and the ringing in my ears make my body jitter with anxiety. Minutes feel like hours as the weight of Hayden’s arm around my shoulders starts to feel heavier and heavier. 

“Hey, um,” I whisper upward, tugging on his shirt as he stares down at me with predicting eyes. “---I’m gonna—”

“Whatever, just go,” he spits. My hand falls by my side. The curl in my stomach grows with nausea as I remove myself from under his arm. Anticipation of feeling lighter is gone. It all feels so heavy—his words lingering in my mind, filling me with regret as I try to take a deep breath. 

“---he finally let you go, hm?”

Looking up, I’m met with his eyes. Matt’s lips relax as he analyzes my appearance. The furrowed creases in my face seem to alert him as he takes a couple steps towards me, lightly grabbing my arm and starting to guide me further away from the crowd. 

“Hey,” he turns me to face him. The sunset glows onto his face, the saturation creating a hue of welcoming energy as I feel the exhaustion creep into every muscle in my body. “---are you—well…do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. 

With a slow shake of my head, he huffs. “Let’s….let’s just sit down, alright? He’s being a real dick. I don’t know how you fuckin’ put up with this shit, I really don’t,” he mutters bitterly. 

Matt starts to sit down, patting the sand next to him as he crosses his arms over his bent knees. Silently, I lower myself down next to him. My legs glide upward as I let my hands graze the surface of the sand. 

“Are you…is this all he’s doing? I know it’s none of my business. I’m trying not to push—I really am, but…” Matt trails off, unsure of how to ask the burning question. 

“He doesn’t hit me.” 

“That’s…I don’t know, okay? Something isn’t right. I—I can tell something isn’t right. Just…talk to me, please. What’s wrong?” he breathes out, huffing the question in defeat while letting his eyes drift over to me. I suck my bottom lip in between my teeth. 

My head whirls around to spot Hayden, seeing him talking to Noah still, but his body language tells me more than I want to know. He’s stiff. The way he’s standing shows me how tense he feels, how frustrated he is. And it’s my fault—it’s because of me.

“It’s my fault. I’m the one fucking things up. I….I keep being such a bitch and—I don’t even know why.” My teeth clench at the end of my statement, the pulse in my ears growing with a drum as I dig my fingers into the sand. The grits seep under my nail beds, a slight sting making me wince. 

His warm hand shields mine from the gust of wind. I feel Matt gently grab my wrist, placing my limp hand back into my lap as he hesitantly looks over my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. 

“What?” I ask. 

Shaking his head, Matt leans forward once more. “Nothing, it’s just, well—how do you think it’s your fault? Let’s start there. Because—truthfully, I don’t think you’re seeing the full picture.” 

“It’s my relationship, Matt. You—” my face scrunches as I remember the events from earlier. The moaning. The dumb fucking groans coming from the other side of the bathroom door. “---you don’t see the stuff I see. I mean, the man is disgusted with me because I make him feel so shitty about himself. He…he doesn’t even want me, but—I don’t think I can really blame him anymore,” I sigh. 

A silence follows my words. I look over, finding Matt’s face twisted with an unreadable expression. His lips part for a moment, pulling shut before he turns to look over at me. 

Cocking an eyebrow at him, I wait patiently as his eyes glance over my shoulder. “I—-do you wanna get a milkshake?” he offers.

My mind buffers for a moment. Taking a quick look over my shoulder, I see Hayden staring directly at us, a bitter squint of his eyes apparent in the fading sunlight. Well. 

“Yeah, I’ll just go tell him real quick. Hold on.” 

I get up, hearing Matt slowly start to dust off his jeans while I take hesitant steps over to Hayden. My heartbeat seems to quicken as my boyfriend's jaw clicks and he swallows gruffly. 

Tapping on his shoulder, I frown as he just shakes his head with a loud huff. “What?” 

The overwhelming exhaustion settles in the pit of my gut as my hands clutch around my waist. “I…I was just gonna go—”

“Yeah. Go with Matt, because I’m driving the car back alone. Just…you really couldn’t even try for five minutes, could you?” he seethes. 

My eyes water at his tone. With flushed cheeks growing in color, I shake my head. “I…I did try, I just—I already worked today, this is really over—-”

“It wasn’t overwhelming when you wanted to come alone though. Just go. Because—I worked too. I left earlier than you did. You…keep making excuses, keep running off with that guy. I…I’m so tired of you—you, fuck. Just leave. Leave before I say something I’ll regret.” 

Teeth clank in my mouth as I clutch my jaw shut tightly, attempting to stop my quivering lip. My feet shift in the sand. Looking up, I see Matt’s eyes squinting at me and peeping behind my shoulder with concern and curiosity. 

A slight shake of my head tells him enough. He opens up the passenger side door, closing it after I step in, walking around to the driver’s seat before starting the car. The familiar playlist starts to flow from the speakers at a peaceful level. 

“Do you want to catch some of ‘em for me while I drive? I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but it will at least keep your mind distracted.” Matt’s offer is sweet. He shoves his phone into my hands, the familiar Pokemon animations making me sigh. 

“Matt, I suck at—” 

“Can you catch them for me? Please?” he asks. 

Squinting my eyes at him, I look around the cupholders of the car. “Don’t you have that gadget? The one that catches them for you?” I question. 

“Oh, look! Oh my god….so cute,” Matt coos, pointing at a dog as the car starts to drive forward. The light tone in his voice makes me smile, relaxing into the seat as I stare down at the screen. 

“Do you need directions?” I ask. 

Quick to shake his head, he pops out the brisk statement. “Nope.” 

My fingers dart on the screen, helplessly trying to play the game while cliffsides pass by in my peripheral vision. His hums wash over me, giving me a sense of relief. The sensations of warmth radiating below me make me look to the seat warmer button, seeing the red glow signifying he turned it on for me. My bottom lip pouts down from the kind gesture. 

“You turned my seat heater on?” I point out. 

Matt’s eyes quickly gleam over at me. He hums in response. “Mhm, just—relax for a couple minutes, okay? You…you don’t have to worry about anything right now. Not when you’re with me.” 

My bones seem to melt in my body, complying with his words as I feel the light buzz of the engine practically rocking me to sleep. The dimming sky seems to leave my eyes falling, my hands curling around his phone. 

__________

“---yeah, and that’ll be all.” 

Matt’s voice makes my mind stir awake. The soft material of his sweatshirt rubs against my cheek. His arm is resting on the center console, my head resting on his shoulder as I slowly start to sit up. 

“Get a good nap?” he jokes. I hazily nod, smiling as his light chuckle gets louder. He slowly pulls through the drive-thru window, milkshakes set in each of the cupholders and a brown paper bag set in between them. It smells so good. 

Parking, Matt hands me one of the cups, sticking the straw in it before crumpling the paper in his hand and tossing it into the front compartment. My eyes follow his actions, pausing as I notice the red and white circle—the fucking Pokemon gadget. 

“Liar.” 

Matt’s eyes shift to mine with confusion. I raise my eyebrows, my eyes flickering between him and the circular object. He follows my gesture, a sheepish smile covering his features as he shrugs. “Whoops. Forgot, I guess.” 

I roll my eyes at his statement, taking a sip of the sweet drink as he pulls out a box of fries from the bag, placing it on my lap. “You got me fries? I thought we were just getting milkshakes?” 

A quick shrug from his end brushes off the gesture as if it was nothing, but I can’t help the grin that slowly pulls tighter on my lips. Leaning over the console, I press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” I mumble, shoving a fry in my mouth as his skin begins to flush with a pink saturation. 

“I, uh—yeah,” he rushes, grabbing another box of fries from the bag and starting to munch on them. 

The silence is soothing. My mind seems to wander around my subconscious as if I’m still asleep. I notice the air whistling and creeping in from a small crack in the tops of the windows. Fresh air leaks in, a cool breeze making me feel lighter. 

“Ya know,” Matt looks over to me with raised eyebrows. “---we could watch some halloween movies back at mine. Sleepover? I bet Nick and Chris will love—-”

“I’d love to.” The short answer makes us mirror a smile at each other. I feel something pulling me in the back of my mind, a vibration in my lap making me feel more aware. Looking down at my phone, the screen lights up with a text. 

| From Hayden: We need to talk. | 

I feel my face fall with realization and regret. Why? Why do I have to make him feel so unimportant to me? Why is it so hard for me to please him? 

“Hey,” Matt pets over my hand with his own fingers. I watch the screen fade into black before letting myself look up into his eyes. “---whatever is going on, just forget about it tonight. Nick and Chris…they miss you—I miss you.” 

My head falls pathetically against the headrest behind me as I squint my eyes shut in frustration. “Matt, I can’t–”

“Hey, you….text him. Tell him you just need a minute to yourself for a clear mind. He’s gotta understand that. I…I know I don’t know everything, but…I know you. It’s—it’s killing me watching you be so paranoid all the time. I’m your friend, let me be there for you, okay? I just…you need to take care of yourself for a minute.” 

He’s right. I know he’s right. Nodding, I take a gulp as I type a quick message. 

| To Hayden: I’m just gonna spend the night with Nick, Matt, and Chris. I just need to take care of myself for a minute and clear my head. I can come over tomorrow and we can talk? |

Hitting send, I stare at the screen as I watch the typing bubbles appear and disappear. The screen begins to dim. I tap on it, sighing loudly as I watch for a response—one that I know deep down just isn’t coming. I feel Matt’s fingers curl around my hand tighter. 

“Just…don’t worry about him right now. Worry about you. He should understand that you need to be alone or with other people. Here,” Matt grabs my phone from my lap, holding down the power button and sliding the device to power off completely. 

Taking in a deep breath, I feel my lungs fully inflate with the cool air from outside. “I…thank you. You’re a good friend, I—I really appreciate you,” I say softly. 

My eyes drift back to his, finding intent in the way he gleams back at me. It’s like layers of plastic are being peeled away from my skin, leaving me bare and boneless under his gaze. 

“I…I really like being there for you,” he whispers back. 

Alarm bells ring off in my head as the peace becomes too much. I shouldn’t feel like this—I shouldn’t want to lean in closer. Leaning my back completely against the seat, I watch as he stares down at the center console with a light breath falling from his parted lips. 

Silence consumes us as he stares down at our hands. He swivels his thumb against the back of my palm, clearing his throat as he looks back up at me with a soft smile. “So…” he trails off, his soft fingers tracing lightly over my own. “Hocus Pocus or The Haunted Mansion?” 

“Will Chris and Nick even wanna watch a Halloween movie? It’s barely September,” I point out. 

Matt gives me a light shrug, “Well, I just wanna do what I know makes you happy. Fuck them. It can just be us. So, which one? You know I love doing anything that involves fall.” 

“I don’t wanna decide. I hate deciding!” I exclaim. Laughing at me, Matt shakes his head while staring down in his lap. “Ugh. They’re both good. You pick? Please?” I smile. 

Matt looks up at me, nodding as he turns the car on. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll choose, I’ll choose. Just…can we wear our matching PJs? The Halloween ones?” he asks. 

I nod firmly. “Well, duh. Nick and Chris better put their on too—even if they don’t wanna watch the movie with us.” 

“We could make cookies and bribe them,” Matt taunts. Looking over at him with a smirk, I whip my head as soon as he looks over at me with daring eyes. 

“I like the way you think,” I say, watching out the passenger window as familiar buildings pass by. 

“Awww, thanks.” I snort out a laugh at his sarcastic tone. “I’ll even feed you the raw cookie dough, but you can’t eat too much. I don’t wanna accidentally kill you,” he reasons, huffing with a dry laugh. 

The gentle care in his soft voice is enough to make my face feel hot from emotion. It just feels so relieving—but that relief came with a hint of looming guilt swaying on my shoulders. 

I’m not cheating. I would never cheat. Our lips never touched, but our eyes seemed to linger a bit too long at times. Why did I feel like this with him? Why did I feel like he had touched every part of my soul when he hadn’t even seen me naked? 

Why couldn’t I have met him a little sooner? Why did it have to be the day before Hayden asked me to officially be his girlfriend. 

“You won’t kill me,” I lean onto his shoulder, smiling as I feel him lay his own head on top of mine for a quick second. “You care too much. You just…you’re too sweet, Matt. It’s almost annoying,” I joke.

Matt huffs his hand squeezing mine as he turns down a familiar street. “You love it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, swallowing a thick lump of guilt. “I guess I do.” 

A little too much.

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Thank you for reading. Any interaction is appreciated!!! Comment if you would like to be added to the taglist. Let me know your thoughts !!!

[mattslutt]

WORSHIP YOU - m.sturniolo

in which: : your boyfriend matt is obsessed with your thighs and always makes sure you feel worshipped and loved.

Matt’s voice is muffled through the bathroom, something about making dinner together, but you barely process it. You’re sprawled across the bed, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling—a dangerous habit, you know. But today, the algorithm is relentless, shoving image after image of toned bodies, lean legs, impossible proportions right in your face.

Your thumb hovers over the screen, and then you catch your reflection in the black mirror of your phone—a frown, a furrowed brow. Without thinking, your hand moves to your thigh, fingers pressing into the softness, feeling that familiar twist in your stomach. You hate how easy it is for the doubt to creep in.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice Matt until the bed dips beneath his weight, and suddenly, warm hands are gripping your legs, dragging them over his shoulders as he all but buries himself between them. His cheek presses against the plush of your thigh, and you feel his lips—soft, barely-there kisses—trailing across your skin.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice low, a little muffled. He squeezes your thighs, almost like he’s testing the feeling of them in his hands, and there’s a hint of a groan in his voice, like he can’t help himself. “God, I missed these.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, the spell of self-critique cracking just slightly. “You saw me like an hour ago, Matt.”

“Yeah, and it was too long.” His grip tightens, and his eyes—half-lidded, a little dazed—flicker up to yours. “You know, you could suffocate me with these, and I’d say thank you.”

Your cheeks burn. “Matt—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, the playful tone slipping just a bit, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. His fingers trace slow, lazy circles over your thighs, his touch feather-light, but enough to leave a trail of warmth in its wake. “I don’t think you get it. I’m obsessed. These legs, these thighs—” He presses another kiss, this time lingering, his lips hot against your skin. “I love them. I love you.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you instinctively try to pull your legs away, but his hands are already gripping tighter. “Nope. Not going anywhere,” he insists, his lips still brushing against you with every word. “You can keep thinking whatever you want, but just know I’m gonna keep doing this. Forever. Okay?”

Your heart stutters, the familiar doubt flickering weakly before fading under his touch, his words, his devotion. You reach down, your fingers slipping into his messy hair, and he hums, leaning into your touch like a cat starved for attention.

“Okay,” you whisper, voice a little shaky, a little overwhelmed. “Forever sounds good.”

“Good,” he mumbles, already pressing another kiss to your thigh, his voice going softer, almost sleepy. “Because I’m not letting go. Ever.”

Matt’s lips are still against your thigh, the warmth of his breath spreading across your skin, and his voice drops to a low, almost sleepy murmur. “Softest thighs I’ve ever touched,” he whispers, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles. “Could live right here. Your skin’s perfect. So warm, so soft.”

“Matt—” you try to protest, a nervous laugh bubbling up, but his hands just tighten, pulling your legs even closer around his shoulders.

“No, I mean it,” he continues, voice edging on desperate, like he needs you to understand. “You don’t get it, do you? You could wear anything—shorts, dresses, those leggings I love—and I’d just lose my mind. Sometimes I see you and forget how to talk. I just wanna touch you, kiss you—”

Your face burns, your fingers instinctively tugging at his hair, trying to distract him. “Matt, stop—”

“Not a chance,” he breathes, pressing another kiss, this one wetter, his lips lingering. “I’d spend hours here if you let me. I love the way you feel, love the way you look. I love how soft you are. How perfect.” His voice is a low, steady rhythm, each word sinking into your skin, carving away every ounce of doubt.

“Matt—” you try again, but he looks up, his blue eyes dark and serious, and your voice falters.

“I wish you could see what I see,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into something almost vulnerable. “How gorgeous you are. I watch you walk around, and I just—” He lets out a low, breathless laugh. “I can’t believe you’re mine. Can’t believe I get to touch you. I’m so obsessed, baby. So, so obsessed.”

You feel the heat crawling down your neck, spreading across your chest, and you try to squirm away, embarrassment making you lightheaded. “Matt, please—”

“Please, what?” he teases, but there’s a gentleness to it. “Please keep going? Please keep kissing you?” His lips find a new spot on your thigh, his stubble grazing against your skin, sending a shiver through you. “I will. I’ll never stop. Not until you believe me. Not until you understand how much I love every single part of you.”

Your heart is racing, the mixture of embarrassment and something warmer, something more addictive, flooding through you. You try to cover your face, but Matt’s hand catches your wrist, pulling it gently away.

“No hiding, pretty girl,” he whispers, his voice a low promise. “Not from me. Never from me.”

A/N:

as a curvy girly myself, im very insecure and have been feeling way more insecure recently so i wrote this to feed my delusions but also make myself feel better LMAO.

[endereies]

ATTRIBUTES AND QUALITIES - MS - BLURB

Pairing: bf!matt x gf!reader

Contains: The details of Matt as your boyfriend, on and off camera

Requested?: yes by @bernardsbendystraws - Request

Author's notes: This shouldn't have taken me so very long to write but neither should almost everything on my platform

Word Count: 1692

╰┈➤ SFW

༊*·˚ You both tended to avoid social situations, this included date nights

You had fixed your dress one too many times for it to slip Matt's conscience. It was adorned with two perfectly symmetrical bows which lined the skin of your shoulders. They barely reached the built in corset line, covered in a soft silk. It was so barely blue to the point where you could only see it in the dim lighting of your room. Pleats curve at your hips and flow to your knees. It was clear how much you were smitten with the fabric. Matt watched you steal glances at the mannequin poised at the front window, hence his insisted purchase.

Delicate touches, traced your hips from behind and as much as you felt unease within the situation, you melted into his touch. "Hi pretty" His voice felt so pure against your neck and you couldn't help but giggle. A few peppered kisses later, he leant back to watch the reflection of you both in the full body mirror. Knitted material covered his arms, covering sections of his darker belt. That was wrapped round his light-wash jeans that became a staple in his wardrobe.

"Hey Matt" It was a timid voice that escaped your mouth, you hadn't meant for it to. It faded into the air but when you finally looked up you were met with Matt's gaze, falling heavily on you. He smiled against your neck, allowing his breath to tickle he skin.

"You don't want to go out tonight do you..?" Guilt filled you almost instantly. You were aware that he had made reservations at this fine dining place he pointed out one late-night drive. It was a high end place but the atmosphere was one to be appreciated. Yet tonight you were dreading it.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I know you booked this fancy place but I-" His fingers quickly silenced you as he pressed them against your lips. He dryly laughed and turned your chin to face him directly. "I was hoping you'd say that..I just want to watch movies alongside you. How'd you feel with that, love?"

You sighed deeply, letting yourself relax onto him. "I'd love nothing more."

༊*·˚ He loved to make you feel safe and loved whenever he could

The last few days had been filled with thunderstorms that stretched into every evening. Tonight was no different. Several hours had gone by and nothing showed signs of the storm easing up. Clouds remained dark and your window was covered in drops of rain that sped down the glass. It wasn't that you hated the way the clouds lit up to reveal the purple hues. It was the way the thunder clapped unexpectedly that made you tense. It was deafening and not even the steady hums of your playlist could block out the sounds.

You had given up the idea of sleep and simply attempted to sleep between the duvet and pillows of your bed. Bunches of fabric were huddled near your chest and practically covered your face.

"Baby? I'm home!" Finally Matt had come home from his filming session that got cut early from the rain. They all agreed it would be better to continue when sounds of water and lightning didn't fill the mic.

He wasn't oblivious to the way thunder made you uneasy, he had seen you more than once feel uncomfortable and refuse to relax. Although never this bad.

Once he was met with silence, you heard him wonder around the house. It wasn't long before he creaked open the bedroom door. You could see the way his expression softened thanks to the bursts of light outside.

"Are you okay..?" The answer was obvious when he saw stray tears lingering on your cheeks. Rustling was quickly caused by the shaking of your head, not trusting your voice to not let you down.

He caught on your feelings instantly and slid under whatever duvet you hadn't bundled at your chest. You felt his body slide next to yours, the warmth welcoming. A sudden crash of thunder echoed through the room. Matt would be lying if he said it didn't feel good when you immediately reached out for him with closed eyes.

"You're okay baby.." Reassuring words slipped past his lips as he caressed your hair gently. "I got you."

༊*·˚ He always managed to slip your name into a conversation

Tara had thrown one of her iconic parties and as per Matt's request, you were by his side. Finally meeting some people you had dreamed of seeing for years, it was safe to say you were happy.

The whole night you were beaming alongside Matt and his friends. Dressed in a light silver dress that has small glitters embedded in the fabric, Matt could watch the way you shined forever.

"Hey baby? I'm gonna go with Nick and see Tara for a moment. I'll be back" It was hard to suppress a chuckle as his brother pretended to gag at the pet name. "Go ahead y/n."

With the lack of vibrant lighting, he easily lost you in the crowd but once he turned around he caught the eye of Jake. "Matt, didn't think you would turn up if imma be honest." His eyes took in his outfit, carefully put together. Laying on his wrist was a bracelet that caught his eye. "Woah, nice bling. How much was that?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, my girl got it for me a few weeks ago. She asked if I could wear it to match her dress tonight." A knowing smile crossed Jakes's face and a slight laughed escaped his lips. "Ahh is that so."

༊*·˚ He hates the way you think so low of yourself and would always defend against any negative thoughts you had

You had been shopping around stores on one of the rare days that Matt had no work on. You had been invited out to an event with your friends so it only seemed fitting to find a specialized outfit.

He was patiently sat outside the fitting rooms with the assortment of bags surrounding his feet. He saw a figure walk out and when he finally lifted his eyes, his jaw dropped. You were wrapped in a gorgeous red fabric that was cinched at the left side of your body. It had laid gently across your mid thigh.

You opened the curtain and revealed your outfit to Matt. "Woah.."

"I know, I'm not really a fan of it, I mean.." Your words trailed off as you looked down towards your stomach and hips.

"What are you on about? I'm obsessed with the way this looks on you, It looks even better when you feel that way too. This dress highlights your best features, baby. All of them."

You placed yourself in front of the mirror and tried to brush down any features you felt mildly uncomfortable with. Matt had come up behind you and placed his hands on your hip while resting his chin on to your bare shoulder.

"My pretty girl." He sighed into your neck and that was enough to pay for the dress with your Matt's card later.

༊*·˚ He would always pamper you whenever you felt unwell / on your period

It had been about an hour since Matt left your apartment. All you asked was that he pick up some chocolate to satiate your cravings, which had been an upset for the past six hours. The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.

Little did you know that Matt was rushing around several stores for more than your sweet treats. Any time you made a comment about something you liked, he made sure that you got it. A bouquet of your favourite flowers had ended in his basket, along with an assortment of treats, a candle with your preferred smells inside, a pink bath bomb and of course, Pads and tampons.

He hadn't meant to take so long but when you finally heard the front door of your apartment click open you were full of relief.

The gentle knocks on your bedroom door spurred you to sit up against the headboard, the hot water bottle across your midriff.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm back" His voice was meek, as if you had barely woken up.

"What took you so long, Matt? Did you get lost" A slight giggle passed your lips, met with a shake of Matt's head.

"No, baby. I just went on a little spree." That's when your jaw dropped. Finally, he pulled the bags from behind the door and placed them heavily at the end of your bed.

"So, at first, I was only going to get you the chocolates, but then I saw these Haribo's I remember you practically stole from me because they were 'too good to resist'." The bags of confectionary rustled on the blankets. "Then I saw this candle and it was blue, which grabbed my attention. Then I saw it was your favourite so of course I grabbed it. I had to get you pads and tampons. I know you alternate so I grabbed both kinds." A small pile began to form at your feet. "Oh! I also saw some fuzzy socks so they went in and i stopped at Lush to get you a bath bomb. They didn't have your normal one so i got a back up one for you!"

His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed. if they weren't already by your expression.

"Y/n..? You okay.. did i do something wrong..?" With an insistent shake of your head, you denied his words.

"You did all this for...me?" You looked up to him in mere disbelief. "Of course I did. I always will. I can tell you needed this."

"Matt...thank you.."

"You can thank me once I've run your bath, okay love?"

© ENDEREIES 2024

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerslover @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @sleepysturnss @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 12

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension, arguments, mentions of alcohol, being intoxicated

I sat cross legged at the small vanity in my room, blending out the last bit of highlighter on my cheekbones. My outfit I had planned to wear was already laid out on the bed behind me, ready for the evening ahead. My hair was half done, still tied back loosely as I finished off my makeup. It felt nice to have a little time to myself to unwind and prepare, especially after the long day of travelling.

I was in the middle of putting eyeliner in my waterline when I heard a knock at the door. "Come in" I called out, not looking away from the mirror as I focused on not poking my eye.

The door creaked open, and I glanced at the reflection to see Matt stepping in, a glass in his hand. "Vodka lemonade" he said, his voice still carrying the unmistakable slur of someone who had had a little too much to drink.

I turned fully to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You remembered what I drink?"

He shrugged, his grin lopsided but genuine. "Of course. Hard to forget when its the only thing you drink"

I rolled my eyes, taking the glass from him. "Thanks, I guess" I said, swirling the liquid before taking a sip. The moment it hit my tongue, I winced, coughing slightly. "Oh my god Matt! All I can taste is vodka!"

He laughed, leaning against the doorframe like it was holding him upright. "Yeah well, you’ve got some catching up to do. Consider it motivation."

I shook my head, setting the glass down on the vanity. "It’s almost like you’re trying to kill me" I teased, but there wasn’t any bite to my words.

He gave me a wink, nearly stumbling in the process, and we both laughed. For a moment, it was like we never hated each other. It was weird. Today, we’d actually been nice to each other. From the plane to downstairs to now, it was almost like we’d turned a corner. Or maybe the alcohol had simply dulled his usual sarcasm.

Matt straightened up and glanced around my room, his eyes landing on the green crochet outfit on the bed. "That what you’re wearing tonight?" he asked, nodding toward it.

"Yep" I said, turning back to the mirror to finish my eye makeup. "I’m just hoping it comes to get the way I have it in my head."

"Bet it’ll look good" he said, his tone softer than I expected. When I glanced back at him, he was already heading out the door. "Hurry up though. Dinner waits for no one, especially when you’re as drunk as I am."

"I’ll be down soon" I replied, watching as he gave me a lazy wave and disappeared into the hallway. After Matt left my room, I set the vodka lemonade on the dresser, deciding to pace myself as I continued getting ready. As I stood back to admire the final look, I adjusted my halterneck top, making sure everything sat just right. 

I slipped on my nude heels, grabbed a small clutch, and downed half of the vodka lemonade Matt had brought up. The burn of vodka was strong, but he wasn’t wrong, I did have catching up to do if I wanted to match their buzz. By the time I walked down to the foyer, everyone was gathered there.

“You took long enough” Nick teased with a grin as I joined them.

“Beauty takes time, Nicholas” I shot back, earning a laugh from the group.

We stepped out of the villa together, the warm evening breeze carrying the faint scent of sea salt. The walk to the restaurant wasn’t far, but navigating the uneven path in heels was proving to be a challenge. After a few steps, I stumbled slightly on a dip in the road.

“You alright?” Matt asked, catching up to me.

“Yeah, these heels and this road aren’t exactly the best of friends, a bit like us” I muttered, half laughing at myself.

Without saying a word, he offered his arm. I hesitated for a moment before looping my hand through it.

“Don’t make it weird” he said, smirking down at me.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it” I replied with a sarcastic smile, though I appreciated the gesture.

We arrived at the restaurant, a cozy spot with string lights draped across the patio. As we approached our reserved table, I heard Nick let out a quiet yell.

“What are you guys doing here?!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and excitement.

I looked up to see a couple seated at our table, their parents. Their mom stood up with a wide smile, pulling Nick into a hug.

“We’ve been in Hawaii for the last few days” she said warmly. “We wanted to surprise you!”

Their dad chimed in, “But don’t worry, we’re staying on the opposite side of the island. We’re not here to crash your whole trip.”

Nick let out a laugh, still processing the surprise. Chris and Matt looked equally stunned but pleased to see them. 

The waiter approached to seat us, and we quickly rearranged our tables, one table with four seats and one table with three. I glanced at Matt, who caught my eye with an amused look.

“This should be fun” he said.

“Let’s just hope they don’t figure out how drunk you three are” I whispered back, earning a small chuckle from him.

We settled into our seats, Nate sat across from me, Matt was next to him, and Chris was beside me, while Nick took one of the seats at the table with his parents.

Chris leaned forward toward his parents while pointing at me,  his tone casual yet proud as he introduced me to his parents. “This is Y/n” he said. “She works with me for Fresh Love. We’ve been working hard on the new drop, couldn’t do it without her!.”

I smiled politely, but before I could say anything, Nick chimed in from the other table, his grin as wide as ever. “And she’s also my best friend” he added, his playful tone leaving no room for debate.

Their mom smiled warmly, nodding in approval, but the moment didn’t last long. Nick dove into conversation with his parents, leaving the four of us at our table to converse with each other.

Nate glanced up at Matt and Chris, his lips curling into a smirk. “Actually, I never asked how’d Vegas treat you two? Looked like you guys were.. occupied” he said, his words almost like he was implying something.

Chris chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Occupied is one way to put it. Christina practically glued herself to Matt” he teased, earning a scoff from Matt.

Hearing another woman’s name left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had no reason to feel jealous, and yet, the idea of Matt being drooled over by someone else stirred something in me that I couldn’t quite place. It was irrational, and I knew it, so I kept my thoughts to myself, silently picking at the edge of my napkin.

Nick’s voice broke the conversation as he turned to Chris. “Hey, wanna head outside for some pictures real quick before we order?”

Chris nodded, standing up and following Nick without hesitation, leaving just me, Matt, and Nate at the table.

There was a brief moment of silence before their mom, who I assume was half listening to our earlier conversation, leaned over with a smile. “So Nate, do you have anyone special in your life right now?”

Nate chuckled, shaking his head. “No, not at all” he replied, his tone light.

Matt, of course, couldn’t resist. “Harsh one.” He snickered under his breath, looking directly at me.

I raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his comment. Before I could even ask what he meant, Matt took things further. He smirked and leaned back in his chair, his voice loud and clear. “Y/n and Nate went on a date last week, you know that?”

My heart sank, my face flushing red as all eyes seemed to land on me.

“What?” I stammered, but Nate jumped in before I could say anything more.

“It wasn’t like that at all” he said firmly, shaking his head. “We just grabbed dinner as friends.”

Matt wasn’t ready to let it go, though. “Oh, come on, Y/n” he teased, his voice making a mockery out of me. “Why so quiet? Feeling the sting of public rejection?”

My stomach twisted in humiliation. I could feel my face burning as I desperately avoided eye contact with anyone at the table. The old Matt was back just like that.

“Matt, stop being so rude” their mom interjected sharply, her tone firm. She turned back to her husband, trying to steer the conversation away from Matt’s antics.

“Yeah c’mon man we’re just friends” Nate tried to make it clear.

But Matt wasn’t done. His next words hit like a punch to the gut. “Oof, imagine just being a quick fuck and then friendzoned.”

The air left my lungs. The humiliation was overwhelming, and I could feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes. None of what he said was true, but the damage was done.

“I.. I’m actually not feeling the best right now.. I think it's the heat.. excuse me” I said quickly, my voice cracking as I stood up. I turned to their parents, forcing a polite smile through the lump in my throat. “But it was lovely to meet you.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked away from the table, the tears streaming down my face before I even reached the door.

As I pushed through the entrance, I nearly ran into Nick and Chris, who were heading back inside.

“Y/n?” Chris asked, his expression immediately shifting to concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel well” I mumbled, not stopping to explain. Before either of them could say another word, I kept walking, desperate to escape the restaurant, the humiliation, and, most of all, Matt.

I still felt the heat on my face, not from the warm Hawaiian night, but from the lingering embarrassment curling in my stomach. I really hoped his parents didn’t hear him say that. I was halfway down the quiet street when I heard the sound of running footsteps behind me.

“Y/n, wait!”

I clenched my jaw, picking up my pace, but Matt was faster, jogging until he caught up beside me. “Come on, don’t be like that” he said, slightly out of breath. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

I stopped abruptly, whipping around to face him. “Oh, really? Because bringing up that in front of your parents sure didn’t make me feel like the star of the evening.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his usual cocky demeanor fading. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just messing around, you know how I am-”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I do. That’s the problem.” I turned back around, ready to keep walking, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” His voice was softer now, the arrogance stripped away. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

I folded my arms, giving him a glare. “And yet it did.”

He exhaled heavily, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to let him smooth this over with some half assed apology.

“Y/n” he tried again, “I just-”

“I don’t care, Matt.” My voice was cold, firm. “You always do this. Say something without thinking, then act like it’s not a big deal when it is. I don’t need an apology. I just need you to stop.”

He stared at me for a moment, as if trying to figure out a way to fix this, but I wasn’t interested in hearing it. So I stepped around him and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the dimly lit street, finally at a loss for words.

He didn’t follow me this time. Maybe he finally got the message, or maybe he knew pushing it any further would only make things worse. Either way, I didn’t care. My chest still burned from embarrassment, and my head was buzzing with frustration as I made my way back toward the villa.

I reached the villa, slamming the door behind me before kicking off my heels and making my way to the room. The relief of being alone and actually having a bedroom door for privacy was short lived because not even five minutes later, there was a knock.

I sighed, already knowing who it was. “Go away, Matt.”

“Just let me in for a second” he called through the door. “Please.”

I rolled my eyes, but something in his voice made me hesitate. It wasn’t his usual cocky tone. It sounded.. tired. Frustrated, even.

Against my better judgment, I walked to the door and swung it open. “You’ve got sixty seconds.”

Matt stepped inside, his jaw tight, hands shoved in his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “Look” he started, pausing for a second before meeting my eyes. “I was a dick. I know that.”

I folded my arms. “Great self awareness. Anything else?”

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I said it. Maybe I was trying to be funny, or maybe I was just being an idiot, probably both. But I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

I scoffed. “You said I was a quick fuck that got friendzoned, Matt. How else was that supposed to come out?”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you said it” I shot back, my voice rising. “In front of your parents, no less. Do you even think before you speak, or do you just say the first thing that pops into your head?”

“I-” He stopped, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think you’d care so much.”

I blinked at him, stunned. “Care? Are you serious? You embarrassed me, Matt. You made me look like some desperate fool who got used and thrown away. Why wouldn’t I care?”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place, frustration, maybe, or something worse. I could tell he wanted to argue, to push back, but I wasn’t going to let him.

“You know what pisses me off the most?” I continued, folding my arms. “It’s not just what you said, it’s that you acted like you knew everything. Like you had some inside joke at my expense. And for what? A laugh?”

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that-”

“Then what was it like?” I challenged, my voice rising. “Because you made it sound like I was some easy target for Nate. And for the record, nothing ever even happened between us.”

Matt’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.” I snapped. “That night? Seven Minutes in Heaven? We didn’t even kiss. We sat there and talked, thought we’d mess with everyone's heads. And when we went out when you were in Vegas, and we made it clear we were just friends. There was nothing more to it.”

Matt blinked, like the idea had never even crossed his mind. “So you-”

“I never hooked up with Nate.” I interrupted, my tone sharp. “Not then. Not ever. So whatever picture you had in your head, whatever assumptions you made, they were wrong.”

He was quiet for a second, his hands still shoved in his pockets. “I didn’t know that.”

“No, you didn’t” I said bitterly. “Because you never asked. You just assumed.”

I could see it sinking in, the weight of his words finally hitting him, but I didn’t feel the satisfaction I thought I would. I just felt tired.

Matt let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was an asshole.”

“Yeah” I said, my voice flat. “You were.”

He glanced at me, like he wanted to say more, but I was done.

“I don’t have the energy for this” I muttered, stepping back toward the door. “I’m done, Matt. I don’t care how sorry you are. Just leave me alone. It’s best if we just stay out of each other's way for the rest of the trip.”

His jaw tensed, but this time, he didn’t fight it. He just nodded.

“Alright” he said quietly. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

I didn’t reply. I just closed the door, locking it this time.

a/n : everything is .. not changing?

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[mattslilies]

Reflection - M.S.

"no, baby, that's not true." or... the one where you begin to hate what you see in the mirror each morning, and despite trying to hide it from matt, he makes it his mission to comfort and reassure you. warnings: insecurity, mentions of weight, social stigma. word count: 942 a/n: requested by anon! dividers from @kodaswrld! disclaimer: beauty standards are not real!!!! you are all gorgeous <3

you told matt absolutely everything. well, almost. you hadn't told him this.

you didn't know what had changed. it was like someone was slowly turning a dial, one that caused self-hatred to flow into your brain like water. progressively, every time you looked into the mirror, you found flaw after flaw after flaw.

your nose wasn't the right shape, or your eyes were too uneven, or your stomach showed just a little bit too much in the outfit you were wearing. you weren't tall enough, your ribcage too wide, or something completely out of left field. you always managed to find something that was wrong.

logically, you knew that this wasn't rational. there hadn't been anything specific that had triggered it, but the online discourse surrounding your relationship with matt definitely did not help at all. it only furthered your belief that there were things about you that needed to change, in order to be considered worthy of being his girlfriend.

you knew he would discourage that idea,. you knew he would sit and list all the reasons why you were wrong to think that, how it didn't matter what anyone said online. and that was the exact reason you hadn't told him, because you always felt like a burden expecting him to take time out of his day to comfort you.

you'd been independent for a long time before meeting matt, and even after you two were official, you stayed that way. you would never use him for his money, although it was nice not having to worry about bills anymore. but you still had the deep rooted urge to do everything by yourself, and if it was gonna get done right, you had to do it.

though matt appreciated your independence, he also gently encouraged you to allow yourself to depend on him sometimes, instead of always arguing over paying for yourself. he often knew that was an argument he wouldn't win, so he made up for it with spontaneous gifts that you couldn't possibly refuse to take from him.

you stood in front of the mirror, picking apart every piece of your body, so deep into your own mind that you didn't hear the front door opening. nor did you hear him walking into the bedroom. as he saw the bathroom light on and your shadow encompassing the floor, he walked towards it, face etched full of concern when he processed the sight.

you had a look of disgust on your face, looking down at yourself. your eyes were red-rimmed, from the long minutes of crying you'd spent today. he stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, accidentally startling you as you jumped. you quickly wiped your eyes, shoving him backwards slightly.

"matt! you can't sneak up on people like that!"

he threw his hands up in surrender, apologies leaving his mouth.

"i'm sorry, baby, i didn't mean to scare you. are you okay?"

you nodded, quickly. too quickly.

"yeah, i'm fine."

you walked past him, going straight back into the bedroom and changing into a loose hoodie that encapsulated your frame.

it was almost like you didn't want him to see you.

he sat down on the edge of the bed, opening his arms.

"something's up, baby, i know you too well. cmere."

he was right, after over a year of dating, matt knew very well when something was wrong. you sighed, not wanting to talk about it but desperately wanting a comforting hug, so you sat down next to him. he wrapped his arms around you, letting you lean against his side.

"what's goin' on, sweetheart?"

you shrugged, not feeling like responding. he waited for a few minutes before speaking again.

"you had a look on your face, baby. like you were grossed out or somethin'."

he felt wet droplets hit his bare arm and his shirt, and he immediately tilted your head up, his heart breaking when he saw your tears flowing. he had a feeling he knew what was going on, but he had never wanted to be right.

"hey. who said something about you? i'll handle it, you know that."

you shook your head, sniffling and wiping away the water pouring down your face.

"it's not that, i just-"

you sighed. he didn't speak, knowing you weren't finished with what you wanted to say.

"i just don't like what i see in my reflection anymore."

matt tightened his arms around you, as if should he squeeze hard enough, all of your insecurities would flood out like a sponge.

"i feel like every time i see myself, there's something new that's wrong, or doesn't look right, or some new flaw."

matt shook his head, insistently.

"no, baby, that's not true."

you knew he would immediately rush to comfort you, and the tears only poured faster.

"there's nothing about you that's wrong. every part of you is perfect. i think you're absolutely beautiful, and anyone who says different is wrong, even when that includes yourself."

his tone was soft, but his words hit deep.

"i just wish i could see what you see in me."

he sighed, but not one of annoyance, one of deep thought, concern, and sadness.

"and you will. you don't ever have to deal with this stuff alone, sweetheart. i'm here. we're going to work on it, okay? whatever you need."

you couldn't stifle the tears, full blown sobs leaving you, yet comfort radiated over your entire body.

"it's okay, baby. cry it out. you're going to be alright. i love you, pretty girl."

you couldn't make out the words, so instead squeezed his body.

he knew you loved him too.

[anonsturniolo]

behind the scenes — matt sturniolo

paring — matt sturniolo x f!reader

genre — smut, coworkers to lovers/enemies to lovers

word count — ???

You let out a slight huff, staring at your reflection intensely. It was opening night for the haunted theme park and your makeup wasn’t turning out exactly how you wanted it. Today you were dressed up as a darker clown, your long hair in high pig tails, messy clown makeup that actually took you hours to do.

And now your extra long eyelashes won’t stay on. You rip them off your eyelids, wincing slightly at the sudden pull. Setting them down on the black vanity in front of you, you’re ready to give up.

“Need some help, baby?” A seductive voice whispers into your ear, making you jump in surprise. Your eyes meet Matt’s smug ones in the mirror, and you spin in your chair to face him.

“Jesus, Matt.” You glare at him, your hand shooting out to slap his arm. He just laughs to himself as he takes a seat in the open chair next to you.

Matt had just started working with you nearly 2 weeks ago, right when the season started. The fair you worked for was typically set up for the whole month of October, giving you a break from your “normal” job.

You on one hand loved it, but anytime Matt came around? You questioned why you even liked it here. There was something about him that just got under your skin, maybe it was his cocky attitude. Or the fact he was so undeniably attractive.

Especially in his joker costume.

His makeup was always perfectly messy, his hair brushed back exposing his forehead and letting his blue eyes shine bright in contrast. He never spray painted his hair green, claiming that would just “ruin his look”, but what it really meant was he wanted to look good for the countless of girls he’d pursue.

“I can help you, forreal.” Matt muttered from beside you, and you glanced down at the eyelashes.

You turn to face him with a cocked brow, “And how do you know how to put them on?” You cryptically asked, making him roll his eyes.

“I’ve seen enough girls put them on, don’t see why I can’t figure it out.” He shrugs, before leaning forward with the eyelash in hand. You finally lower your eyes, giving him better access to apply the band as close to your lash line as he could get.

You sit there awkwardly as he fiddles with the eyelash, and although you hate him; your body flushes with heat as you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. When Matt gently grips your cheeks, turning your head to get a better view, you nearly bite back a moan.

You couldn’t help it, you loved to be manhandled.

“There.” Matt mutters, extending to his full height and admiring his handy work. You turn to face the mirror, surprised when you take a closer look at your eyelashes. They were perfectly applied.

You fight back a frown, refusing to meet Matt’s eyes in the mirror, “Thanks, Matt.” You sigh, shuffling off of your chair now fully ready to venture around the park and get some scares in.

Matt lets out a groan as you pass him, making you turn back to give him a questioning glance, “You look so sexy tonight in that dress, can’t get over it.” He boldly tells you, to which you flip him off and add an extra sway to your hips, knowing he was watching you leave.

“Fucking Christ..”

Confidence surged through you, giggling as you popped out and startled guest after guest. A couple hours had passed, and you were now sat on a bench as you plucked at some cotton candy. You were busy watching a family from a distance as they got scared by someone jumping out of a bush to notice Matt approaching you.

“Hey.” Matt greets you, sitting down beside you and ignoring the glare you sent his way. You nearly forgot about him, and how he was making you feel earlier, but it all came crashing down on you as he placed a warm hand on your upper thigh.

You look from his eyes to his hand a few times, before you turn away from him. You know there’s a cocky smirk on his stupid face, so you know better than to look back to him.

“Just gonna ignore me now?” Matt asks, and you relish in the way he huffs when you don’t give him any attention. Just as you’re about to place another piece of the cotton candy in your mouth, it’s ripped from you grasp completely.

“What the hell!?” You cry out, your eyes finally meeting Matt’s as he throws away the sugary treat in the trash can next to him. “Matt, what the fuck is your issue?”

Matt grabbed your arm firmly, his tight grasp shocking you. He glanced back at you, his eyes flaring with anger. Wordlessly, he dragged you back to the dressing room the two of you were in hours prior.

“What is my issue? What’s your fucking issue?” Matt snarled, his voice deep with anger, “Givin’ me all this sass, ignoring me.” He kissed his teeth briefly, waiting for a response.

You crossed your arms defensively, “I don’t have an issue.” You insist, and you hate the way Matt is staring at you. As if he knew every thought you’ve ever had, like he felt how you were already dripping because of him.

A cocky smirk crosses his lips, he takes a taunting step towards you, “Y’know, I’ve always had a thing for clowns…” he trails off, raising a hand to lightly tug on one of your pigtails. Your breath hitched at his sultry voice, and how his eyes slowly traveled down your body.

“Matt.” You whisper, grabbing the hand that was ghostly tracing your waist, halting his movements, “I don’t wanna be just another girl on your list.” You explain once his eyes meets yours.

“You won’t be,” he insists, twisting his hand in your grasp to hold your hand, “I’ve wanted you for so long…” he trailed off, his eyes zoning in on your lips.

“Those other girls? Never slept with them.” Your surprised eyes meet his, the question on the tip of your tongue, “I only talked to them when you were around, thought I could make you jealous.” Instantly your lips were smashed against his, your hands threaded through his hair and tugging him closer.

Matt let out a soft grunt at the sensation, easily picking you up and placing you on the vanity behind you. The kiss deepened, the two of you hungry for each other. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, causing you to tug on his shirt.

“Want it off,” you mumbled against his lips, nearly whining at the loss of him as he leaned back and whipped it off. His face paint was smeared with black, due to your makeup.

His lips smashed against yours once again, his hands grabbing at the supple flesh of your thighs. Your hands have a mind of their own, trailing up and down his chest, exploring his exposed skin for the first time.

Matt finally broke the kiss, leaving trails of kisses down your neck as his hands began to bunch up the fabric of your dress. Hastily you shove his hands away, ignoring his confused stare as you slide the garment over your head. You’re left in a black lacy set, and your tights.

“Goddamn..” he muttered, his hands instantly cupping your breasts as he kisses you again. The lust between the two of you poured into the kiss, seemingly to not get enough. Matt’s skillful hands snuck around and up your back, unhooking your bra, and gently taking the straps off your shoulders.

A soft gasp left you once your nipples were exposed to the cold air, your hips slightly bucking in search of relief. You begin to fumble with Matt’s belt to speed things along, and he’s quick to undo his pants and shove them down without breaking away from your lips.

Now left in his boxers, his hands find their way to your chest, tweaking and pulling at your nipples. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure begins to wash over you, your core clenching around nothing.

“Wanna taste you,” Matt mumbles against your lips, making you pull back.

You start to pull down his boxers, “Next time, please, I need you.” You seductively whine, and Matt nearly cums at your tone and pleading expression.

He smirks down at you, his fingers finally making their way to where you need him the most, ghosting over your clit above your panties.

“Y’need me, huh?” He taunts, and you nod your head rapidly in response. With his rock hard cock exposed, you take great pleasure in wrapping your hand around his base, slowly stroking it. When your fingers make contact with his slit, his hips jerk and a moan flies past his lips.

You lean in close to him, “Sounds like you need me too.” Matt doesn’t reply, just threads his hand under the hem of your underwear and pulls, breaking the thin fabric. You were too turned on to care, and you watch as he pulls you forward slightly so he’d have better access.

He removes your hand from his cock, his eyes falling down to your wet cunt, and he begins to slowly rock his hips letting his head bump into your clit. Your head falls back against the mirror, whimpers leaving your lips.

“Please, Matt.” You pathetically whine, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He slowly begins to push inside of you both of your jaws dropping as he bottoms out. The look he gives you is possessive, and his hips start snapping into yours at an animalistic pace.

“Matt!” You cry out once he hits that special spot, so deep inside of you. Your hands dig into his shoulders, causing him to let out deep grunts when he feels your nails pierce his skin.

“Mhm, that’s right baby,” he groans, removing one hand from your hips to rub harsh circles on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The band deep within you was forming, begging to snap.

“Feels s’good…” Matt trailed off, making you look up at him through watery eyes. His eyes were focused on where your bodies connected, relishing in the way your cunt greedily swallowed his cock.

“G-Gonna cum.” You warned, making Matt look up at you. His eyes searched yours as the end neared, his lips smashing down onto yours in a feverish manner. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but he also knew this wouldn’t be the only time it happened.

“Be a good girl and cum f’me,” he grunted softly, feeling the way your gummy walls clenched onto him, “Cum on my cock baby.” He urged, feeling his impending orgasm near the edge.

“Matt!” You pathetically cry, the band within you finally snapping once Matt placed a firm hand on your lower stomach. Pure bliss washed over you as Matt fucked you through your orgasm, sending shocks of hot pleasure through your shaking body.

“Where do you want it?” Matt groaned, his grip on your hips tightened.

“Inside.” You said whine out, your hands pawing at his shoulders as the pleasure coursed over your body for the last time.

Matt’s thrusts grew erratic and sloppy, a telltale sign he was close. You clenched down rather hard onto him as your orgasm faded, immediately you could feel his release painting your walls white as he continued to fuck into you to ride out his orgasm.

You look up to his face, finally coming back to earth, to see his eyes clenched shut and his jaw slacked as the pleasure consumed him. His hips slowed to a stop, all that could be heard was heavy breathing as you both caught your breath.

“That was…” You trailed off, wincing as Matt slowly pulled out of you. He was quick to grab a towel, gently cleaning you off.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow night.” He spoke without looking up at you, sliding your underwear back on.

You cocked a brow at him, “Are you now?”

Matt stares at you blankly, “Did I not just fuck the attitude outta you? Need more?”

[collapsedglasshouses]

HOTEL NEIGHBORS || Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader

PHOTO CREDIT: Bryan Kirks

SUMMARY: After you hear Noah talk about liking experienced women, you can't help but feel insecure about yourself. Noah wants nothing but to lift your spirits.

WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, friends to lovers, inexperienced reader, slight ? dom!noah i guess, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected p in v (dont do that), slight mutual pining?, not edited oopsie, ...

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6

A/N: This idea planted itself in my head last night and I don't even know what to say anymore. I’m more than stressed because of university, but I hope my creative spark is coming back rather sooner than later. Is anyone actually reading what I say here. If you're reading this say hi in the comments, ily. Please, enjoy and consider reblogging if you liked it.

You didn’t exactly know you had gotten into this situation but at this exact moment you were shifting in your place and wanted nothing more but to vanish into thin air.

You were currently sitting in a hotel lobby, exhausted and tired from the show the boys had played, and waited for Matt to hand you the keys to your hotel rooms. Somehow in the course of the last ten minutes, the conversation between the guys had turned. They were talking about previous relationships and the experience it came with since Folio had been freshly separated from his ex-girlfriend.

“I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I just want someone with more experience, you know? I’m not saying I wouldn’t date anyone who doesn’t have much experience but I just-… I don’t know. You know what I mean, Noah?” Folio rambled and looked at the man next to you in hopes to find confirmation.

“Yeah, I know. I prefer women with experience, too. I guess.” Noah just mindlessly mumbled while looking at his phone.

You knew for sure the boys didn’t say this in an ill intend but somehow this exchange began to bother you more than you wanted it to. In all honesty, it felt like a punch straight to your face. You felt stupid that this simple exclaim from Noah got to you, but you couldn’t really help it. It wasn’t like you never had sex. You had a boyfriend that you dated from high school to about two years ago, but when it came to your sex life it felt like you never really experienced anything. You knew almost everything that only concerned you, but when it came to another person being involved, your knowledge stopped. You knew what you liked and what you disliked. But that didn’t make the conversation you just witnessed any less hurtful.

You swallowed hard before standing up from your waiting seat in a rather fast manner.

“Imma head to the bathroom.” You mumbled so quietly you feared nobody would have heard you, before walking away. You didn’t see how Noah looked after you with a confused facial expression.

You slammed the door shut behind you and stared at your reflection in the fancy bathroom mirror. Your eyes were watery and you hated yourself for that. Especially Noah’s sentence echoed in your head and you hated that you had a weak spot for him. You hated that you got along with him too well for your liking. When the band hired you as an assistant for Matt about a year ago, you hadn’t planned that all of this would happen. You thought you were there for only one tour and now you were already on your third with the band. To your astonishment, you got along wonderfully with everyone, but you and Noah had a special bond. You didn’t know what it was exactly but somehow you repeatedly found yourself in deep conversations about literally everything with him. It took you well over six months to realize that you didn’t just simply like him as a friend, but you were starting to fall for him.

Right now, you hated yourself that you never got brave enough to admit it to him. You always acted like nothing had changed and you felt embarrassed about the fact that a small sentence like that could throw you off so bad when you didn’t have the right to act like that about it.

A couple of minutes passed before you had enough courage to head back to the boys. So, you took a deep breath and wiped away the single tear that had managed to escape, before stepping out of the bathroom again. Gladly, you didn’t have to justify your sudden move as Matt approached the group at the same time as you to hand you the keys.

“Finally, I thought we needed to sleep in the lobby.” You managed to say with a lopsided smile while Matt handed you your key.

While your group headed in the elevator, you took up a small conversation with Matt about things that had happened at tonight’s show, before he headed out together with the others. The only two left in the elevator being, of course, you and Noah.

“Looks like we’re neighbors tonight.” He answered you with a sweet smile after looking at your key for a second.

“Cool.” You tried to exclaim as friendly as possible and cringed for your second. Even the most unempathetic person on this planet would have realized that something was going on with you, but you were glad Noah decided to not talk about it as you walked to your rooms.

A couple of hours later, you were finished with your evening and ready to go to sleep but before you could slip under the blankets, you heard a slight knock on your door. For a second, you considered to just ignore it but when it knocked again, you sighed and opened the door just enough to look who was disturbing your peace at these ungodly times.

You were greeted by Noah with a worried expression on his face. For a second, you just looked at him confused, but he was fast to explain, while you opened the door a little more.

“Tell me what I did. You’ve been ignoring literally all my texts for more than three hours at this point.” He exclaimed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Of course, he was right about his statement. You had seen his texts. Normally, you’d test about the concert or some random stuff until you were both to sleepy to respond, but you had decided you couldn’t deal with him this evening. Not after you got so emotional because of a stupid sentence.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You lied and mirrored his gesture.

He lifted his eyebrow, and you already know he wouldn’t let you out of that conversation until you gave him the answers he wanted. “Gaslight someone else, sweetheart.” He grumbled.

You sighed and looked at your hands. “It’s nothing, Noah.”

“Oh, come on. You know nothing you is unimportant.” He encouraged you.

It felt stupid. Stupid how easy it was to open up to him, but you knew you couldn’t just tell him what’s been on your mind, so you simply shook your head. You were about to close the door, when he reached into the doorframe and pressed himself in your room while you protested.

“Y/n. Seriously, what’s going on?” He muttered in a soft tone while sitting down on your bed. He patted the place next to him. When you sat down, he turned to fully face you and touched your shoulder. “Please talk to me.”

“I really can’t, Noah.” You whispered. “It’s so fucking stupid.”

You felt so dumb, you wanted to slap yourself. You didn’t want this to go bad. You hated your feelings for choosing him. For opening up to him. For becoming so close with him. You remembered how you had joked with Matt about how everyone would eventually fall for THE lead singer and how you said Noah is just a really good friend and now look at you. Unable to even look him straight in the face.

“Did I say something?” Noah wanted to know, and you briefly looked at him. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer in fear you would crack. You looked at his shirt to calm your thoughts but that was when you noticed his neckline and your thoughts instantly began to wander.

“You never not tell me anything.” Noah urged.

“Why are you so desperate?” You asked him in slight annoyance and swept his hand of your shoulder.

He blinked surprised for a couple of seconds before answering you. “Because you can’t even look at me and I don’t like that.”

Your heart jumped with happiness when you heard that confession, even if it was innocent.

“That’s not true.” – “Then look at me.”

You sighed before forcing your eyes onto his for a second just to look away again.

“See?” He mumbled, defeated. “I’m sorry if I said something that upset you. I didn’t mean it.”

“So, you didn’t mean you liked girls with experience better than others?” You spat out before you could even think about it more and instantly regretted it.

Noah opened and closed his mouth in confusion. He knew about your previous experiences or lack of experience.

“See that’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. It is dumb.” You tried to brush off what had just happened, but Noah shook his head.

“No, no, no. It’s not dumb. I didn’t mean it like that, I-…” He began to explain but you just sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Just stop, Noah.” You mumbled and laid down on your bed. “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow is another stressful day.”

“N-no… I really didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t even paying attention to Folio. I-… I don’t care about experience, Y/N. I consider myself lucky if anyone gets close to me at the moment. I’m a stressed mess, you know.” Noah rambled out and you noticed that he was nervous. You couldn’t really think about why.

“Oh c’mon. Everyone would consider themselves lucky to sleep with you, Noah. And you fucking know that.” You joked halfheartedly, but then a smile crept onto his face.

“You too?” He asked with a broad smirk on his face.

“Huh?” You huffed as your eyes grew wide.

“I mean… I know you are worried about not having too much experience… I just-…” He swallowed hard. “I could… help with that.”

“You wanna have sex with me?” You bluntly asked your friend and felt your heart almost exploding in your chest.

“I-… You know, we-… I-…” He began to stutter for a second but then he saw how nervous you looked and stopped in his tracks. “So, you wanna have sex with me.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and you swallowed hard. “Uh… I…”

“Forget it, you don’t have to answer th-…” – “Actually, I do.”

Your voice was not more than a whisper while your thoughts were racing. You just blankly confessed that to him, because you were tired. Tired of holding back.

“You are joking, right?” Noah mumbled; his mouth slightly open.

“Oh, come on. As if this comes as a surprise. There are literally people writing fanfiction about you.” You said and ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

“And you know that why?” He exclaimed and smiled lopsidedly.

Your eyebrows rose for a second when you realized what you had said.

When you didn’t answer, he spoke again. “So, you wanna have sex with me?”

“Trust me, with each word coming out of your mouth, the urge is getting less and less.” You answered him and rolled your eyes. His smile faded slightly, and he looked you deep in the eyes.

“Would you feel better if I told you I’ve thought about it, too?” He exclaimed and the tone of his voice shot straight to your core. This didn’t feel real.

“Yeah… Yeah that would help.” You mumbled and swallowed hard, not knowing how to proceed.

A second later, Noah was hovering over your, his face only a couple of inches away from you and you felt how the atmosphere in the room changed.

“You really wanna do this?” He asked you as your hands travelled to the hem of your shirt. You nodded.

“Tell me, you want this.” He almost pleaded with you.

“I want you to fuck me, Noah. For god sake, should I write it down for you?” You whisper-shouted against his lips and with that he giggled quietly before kissing your lips with such force that you realized he wasn’t joking. You grabbed his face and pulled him even closer to you. It felt like you two grasped onto everything. It felt like you were each other’s last meal. Like you were starved for so long, you couldn’t control it anymore.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him down towards your core that was only clothed in your underwear, and you could feel how hard he was. You couldn’t help but grind against him. He slightly moaned into your mouth as your tongues danced with each other and you moved your hips again.

“Stop that.” He suddenly groaned against your mouth, and you began to grin. “What if I don’t?”

“Then I’m not going to go easy on you, sweetheart.” He warned you. It didn’t take a second for you to grind against him one more time, while smiling proudly about what a hard time he had with you.

“You’re going to regret that.” He mumbled and grabbed your hips with his hand firmly. This alone almost made you cum. It felt like something in him snapped. His pupils were blown wide with lust and then he was underdressing you. It was like he was ripping you out of your clothes.

When he reached your underwear, he stopped for a second and looked at you for reassurance. It was the last chance for you to tell him, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to stop.

“I trust you.” You breathed out and bucked your hips for a second.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for his, Y/n.” He answered you as he slowly slipped down your underwear. He didn’t waste any time after that and only a few kisses later to your stomach, you felt how his tongue moved through your folds. A soft moan escaped your mouth and you arched your hips to possibly get any closer to him.

Your hands found their way in your hair. It wasn’t the first time someone went down on you, but never before had it felt so intense to you.

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one arm and his tongue was devouring you like it was the last thing he would do. The sounds you were making only made him go harder. Then you felt how he added a finger inside of you, quickly followed by another.

“Oh my-… Fuck, Noah.” You gasped and you felt the vibrations of his laugh against your core. You felt a knot building inside of you and you tried to concentrate on anything that would help you not to come instantly.

“I can feel that you’re close.” He mumbled against you and flicked his tongue over your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of you.

You nodded, unable to form clear words without moaning them.

“I know, you can go longer than that, Y/n.” He hummed against you, and you felt like you were going insane.

“God, please.” You cried out, fearing you couldn’t hold it any longer.

His mouth and fingers felt so good, you were sure you couldn’t help yourself much longer. You felt your orgasm built up and then-… He stopped. He pulled away from you, his fingers out of your pussy and you whined at the loss of contact.

He grabbed your face with the hand that had been inside of you just seconds before and looked you in the eyes. “When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock.”

“You know, it’s kind of unfair that I’m laying here completely naked while you’re fully clothed.” You breathed out with a small smile on your face.

“Oh, yeah?” He laughed against your lips before climbing of the bed to get out of his clothes. His eyes never left yours and yours never left his.

He was in nothing but his underwear, his cock hard underneath them and you bit your lip as his hands hooked under the waistband and he slowly slit them off. Your eyes slowly widened at the sight of his member, and you suddenly realized that all of this was real. He looked so perfect. All of him.

“You still okay?” He asked as he crawled back to you.

“Yes.” You breathed out when he was on top of you again. He leaned down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as if he belonged there.

“Noah, please.” You moaned out and let your hands roam over his back.

“Yes?” He teased you and rocked his hips once more.

“Don’t be such a tease.” You whined and dragged your fingernails over his back. He let out a soft moan.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n.” Noah exclaimed, and you whined, before rolling your eyes.

“Do that again and I’ll make you regret it.” He breathed out.

“Oh, I’m so scared.” You answered him in a mocking tone and he instantly gave his words truth.

For the second time something snapped inside of him. You let out a small yelp as he flipped you over in a swift motion, your chest hitting the mattress. He grabbed your hips with such force, you were sure he would leave bruises.

“You still wanna continue to be a brat?” He asked you in an almost dangerous tone and you shook your head.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He almost moaned and you felt this cock against your ass. He positioned himself behind you, his tip teasing your entrance. His hands wandered over your hips softly and you felt a kiss against your neck. “We can stop anytime.”

“Please, don’t stop.” You breathed out. After that he slowly slid into you, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.

“Is that alright?” He asked with a soft tone as you tried to get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

“Yes, everything is perfect.” You moaned out.

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when your time has come, this was how you wanted it to end.

“Oh, my f-… Noah.” You whispered out and gripped the sheets beneath you.

His right hand slowly reached to the front of your body and found your clit. He swiftly circled it while rocking into you.

His head was buried in your neck and the room was filled with moans and pants and curse words that were almost illegal to speak out.

“Shit, Y/N.” He whined into your neck. “You feel so good.” His thrust became faster and you were almost certain the bed was going to break if he kept that pace. But you were too far gone to care. You felt that knot in your stomach again and you knew this time you couldn’t contain yourself.

“Come on. Come for me, sweetheart.” He whispered against the back of your head, and you screamed. You screamed load enough that you were sure Jolly in the room underneath to you would hear.

He fucked you through it, his pace only slowing down moments later, right before he pulled out and you felt hot liquid painting your back.

You let yourself fall onto the pillow and he soon collapsed next to you. You turned to face him and could help but smile at him. He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m in desperate need of a shower and I don’t even wanna talk about the lack of sleep we’ll have tomorrow.” You answered him and giggle for a second that caused him to smile.

“It was worth it.” He mumbled before leaning in again.

“Yes… yes it was.” Your lips met in a soft kiss and for a second everything inside of you began to tingle. You knew this was a new chapter for the both of you and that this was only the beginning.

“Let’s shower.” He mumbled before getting up and reaching out to help you up. He slung his arms around you for a second. “Maybe you can tell me about those fanfictions while showering.”

Your eyes widened for a second, before you made your way to the bathroom, followed by a laughing Noah.

“I’ll keep that to myself.” You answered him, before closing the bathroom door behind the two of you.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[mamiobesssionfics]

Crimson Reign

Vampire!Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: Plagued by violent dreams and drawn to the mysterious leader of a vampire biker gang, you find yourself caught between a forgotten past and a fate soaked in blood.

The dreams began on the first blood moon of autumn.

Each night, the same vision, you, running through a burning forest, your heart pounding like drums, your feet bare, slicing against stone and ash.

And a voice calling from the darkness.

"You are mine."

Deep. Feminine. 

Though yet, you could hear the grief in it.

You would wake sweating, breath caught in your throat, fingers clenched around your sheets like they'd save you. But nothing made the dreams stop.

If anything, they got worse.

Flames turned to teeth. Screams to whispers. And the woman, the one with pale skin, blood-soaked hands, and eyes like dead stars, got clearer.

She called you by name.

Yet, you didn't know how she knew your name.

The new gang in town caused a stir almost immediately.

Matte black motorcycles thundered through the streets, sleek and hungry. Leather, ink, chrome. They never smiled.

And at the centre of them was her.

Rhea Ripley.

You didn’t know her, but the moment your eyes met hers at the gas station you felt something switch inside you. Her gaze pinned you like a blade through velvet.

She didn’t speak. Just stared.

And smirked.

The next night, someone went missing. Then another. And another.

Rumors spread fast.

Cult. Vampires. Cartel.

No one knew what the gang wanted, only that they’d set up base on the outskirts, in an abandoned motel swallowed by the woods.

You should have stayed away. But you didn’t.

She found you again.

At midnight, under the iron bridge where the river whispered secrets. You were drawn there without reason, barefoot and dazed, like sleepwalking.

"You came back," she said.

Her voice, the voice. The one from your dreams.

You stepped back. "I don’t know you."

She looked at you like it was the cruellest thing you could say.

"But you will."

Her hand touched your wrist, and pain flared beneath your skin, burning. A mark showed, shaped like a crescent moon and thorns. You cried out.

"What-what did you do to me?!"

"Opened the lock," she whispered. "Now the past can bleed through."

You didn’t sleep that night. You relived.

A different time.

A castle drowning in roses and shadows. You, in silks. Her, in armour. Kisses stolen in candlelight. A betrayal. A stake through her heart. Blood in your hands. Your scream echoing through eternity.

You woke sobbing.

You hated her.

You missed her.

You wanted her to suffer.

You needed to see her again.

You confronted her at the old motel, storming into the den of wolves like you weren’t shaking.

Vampires hissed, but she silenced them with one raised hand.

"Why me?" you demanded.

"Because you were mine before time had a name. Because when they burned my body, I swore I'd find you again."

"I killed you."

"You loved me."

You slapped her. She didn’t flinch. She stepped closer.

"You think I haven’t lived with that pain? Replaying it? Waking in graves and screaming for you?"

"You’re a monster."

"So are you, now."

The mark began to spread.

Your reflection faded in mirrors. Your appetite turned metallic.

You could hear heartbeats, feel them. You cried when your hands passed through sunlight and blistered.

Rhea came to you in the ruins of your childhood church. She knelt, for once looking unsure.

"I can undo it. If you hate me that much. If you don’t want to remember."

You looked at her. Her cruelty, her sorrow, her unbearable patience.

"No. I want the truth. Even if it breaks me."

She smiled, soft and aching. "Then come home."

You did.

Into the dark.

Into her arms.

Into the beginning, again.

Masterlist

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[barcapix]

What about the opposite of the short reader Gavi fic and instead one where reader is taller then him? Maybe she's teasing him by not letting him kiss her and then with this prompt "I'm your boyfriend and I demand that you kiss me"? Only if you want to though of course❤️

✮ Mujer Bonita - Pablo Gavi

pablo gavi x taller!fem!reader

sy: what the request says.

a/n: this was so great like as a tall girl myself we need a little more recognition so thank youuuu❣️(sorry if this is a lil short)

warnings: no!

heels or flats. boots or barefoot. did it matter?

one thing you found ridiculously adorable in your relationship with pablo, was the incredulous height difference between you two.

whenever you mention a height difference to your friends, family—anyone for that matter—they’re always quick to assume that he’s the taller one.

it’s a societal standard in any existing community, that a relationship only ‘works’ or ‘lasts’ if the guy has the superior height dominance, but you two had shattered that stereotype.

that’s what made it so special.

but, to your utter dismay, he couldn’t resist using it against you.

“pablo! are you ready yet?” you shout from the top of the stairs, adjusting the strap of your dress.

he mumbled something of a reply, the scuttles of his trainers squeaking against the polished laminate. you didn’t need to see if you could hear.

after thrashing some last minute essentials in your purse, you pursued down the stairs and find gavi infront of the mirror, in your hallway.

smoothing down his hair like usual, the unholy amount of fidgeting with the smallest strands of hair, that were barely visible to the human eye.

“i don’t think the fried baby hairs need styling pabs,” you walked over, resting a hand on his shoulder. “they’re too short to even stand up.”

he mutely mimicked the movement of your lips as you spoke, twisting and turning his head just as you always do.

“fried?” he paused mid motion, before his hazel eyes flickered up to meet your in the reflection. “that’s rich coming from someone who nearly cremated her hair trying to curl it last week.”

your jaw palpably dropped. “that was one time!”

“one too many,” he proudly smirked.

sassy for a man that merely reached 5’8.

“are you gonna continue using that attitude with me?” you playfully threaten him in which he steps back in mock fear, but you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes.

laughing under your breath, you turned toward the front door, but before you could reach it, you felt his hands grip at your waist.

pablo had pulled you back, his chin resting against your shoulder as he huffed dramatically.

“you’re doing it again,” he grumbled, skimming his hands along the matte material of your dress.

you bit back a smile. “doing what?”

“you know what,” his arms tightened around you. “everytime i try to kiss you, you act like i need a damn step stool.”

you chuckled, placing a hand over his. “it’s not my fault you’re short.”

“i’m not short,” he whined, pulling away just to step in front of you. “im actually, nationally, the average height.”

you snorted. “yeah for women.”

his mouth fell open slightly, as if offended, before he squinted at you. “you think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“i know so bebé,” you boasted, and gave him a small tap to his chest. “somebody has to have humour in this relationship.”

pablo narrowed his eyes, straightening his posture and licking his lips. “i’m your boyfriend, and i demand you kiss me.”

you pretended to think about it, biting your lip to suppress another laugh. “demand? where did you learn that word? from pedri?”

gavi huffed, exaggeratedly flinging his arms away from you like he was being physically repelled.

“dios mío,” he grumbled under his breath, tugging on his suit jacket as he was about to walk off. “i hate you.”

“hey,” you giggled, reaching for his wrist to pull him back. “i was just messing with you amor, don’t be so serious.”

the spaniard turned his head, followed by a roll of his eyes. “yeah yeah, i’ve heard that before.”

“ohh well if your going to be so dramatic about it,” you hummed, pulling him close to your body and resting your hands on the front of his shoulders.

but were you going to satisfy him so easily?

just to tease him one last time, you leaned down like you were finally caving in—only to pull away at the last second.

pablo groaned in frustration before finally taking matters into his own hands, gripping your face and pulling you down to meet his lips.

the height difference never mattered after all.

🔖🏷️: @n0vazsq @hearzdiarx @paucubarsisimp @diarieeeelils @joaosnovia @httpsdana @universefcb

[sturniololuvz]

“who the hell are you?”

Meanmatt! x Partygirlreader! - part 5.

(he said it like he didn’t care. but the second he heard you cry—he knew he did.)

⸻

Matt knew you were upset.

He knew he was being a dick.

He always is. That’s kind of the point — say it before it gets said to him. Cut before getting cut.

But he didn’t expect to hear it.

Not like that.

You thought he drove off. But he didn’t. He stood there, one hand on his car door, frozen like a coward — and he listened.

He heard the hitch in your breath.

The sharp inhale.

And then: the quiet, broken sound of someone trying not to fall apart.

It knocked the wind out of him.

Not because he hadn’t heard people cry before — he had. But not you. Not like that.

Not because of him.

“ God,I hate you. I hate you so much.”

You sounded like you meant it.

You sounded like it ruined you to say it.

And Matt? Matt just stood there and took it. Like he didn’t cause it. Like he didn’t twist the knife.

⸻

He doesn’t sleep.

He tosses. Turns. Sits up. Lays down. Pulls his hoodie tighter like it’ll muffle the voice in his head.

Your voice.

That fucking crying.

The second it started, something inside him snapped. Like a string pulled too tight. Like guilt wasn’t just knocking — it kicked the door in.

He should’ve said something.

Should’ve turned around.

Should’ve gone to you.

But he didn’t.

He left you crying on the street.

Who the fuck does that?

Matt grabs his phone. Opens your contact. Stares at your name like it personally wronged him.

Types:

are you okay?

Pauses.

Deletes it.

Throws his phone across the room like it’s your fault and not his.

⸻

It’s three days before anyone says anything.

“You’ve been acting weird,” Nick says flatly.

Matt glares from the couch. “No I haven’t.”

“Dude, you haven’t insulted anyone in two days.”

“So?”

“So you’re either in love or dying.”

“Go away.”

Nick tilts his head. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

Matt looks down. Swallows.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “She called me.”

Nick waits.

Matt clenches his jaw. “She was drunk. I… said some shit.”

“What kind of shit?”

“Stuff I didn’t mean.”

Nick doesn’t flinch. “Did she cry?”

Matt’s silent.

Nick swears under his breath. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing!” Matt snaps, voice sharp. “I didn’t say anything when she cried, okay?! I just— I stood there. Like a fucking coward.”

Nick exhales. “That’s cold, Matt.”

“I know it’s cold.”

“So what, you regret it now?”

Matt laughs bitterly.

“Yeah. I regret it. I regret every word.”

⸻

He checks your socials every night.

You haven’t posted since the fight. No thirst traps. No memes. Not even your usual Friday song drop.

You disappeared.

And that infuriates him.

Because even when he hated you, he could see you. Hear you. You were loud. Bold. You were always around — just enough to keep him pissed off and a little intrigued.

Now?

Now you’re gone.

And it’s because of him.

Matt grips the edge of his sink and stares into the mirror, eyes bloodshot, hoodie hood pulled up like it can hide the shame crawling up his spine.

“You did this,” he mutters to his reflection. “You wanted space. You got it.”

But it doesn’t feel like space.

It feels like loss.

⸻

A week later, he sees you again.

It’s on accident. A café. Some random afternoon when he’s trying to keep his head down and pretend he doesn’t care anymore.

You walk in laughing.

Wearing some oversized sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to you, iced coffee in hand, head tilted back like nothing ever happened.

You look fine.

Untouched.

And it kills him.

Because he looks like hell. Because he’s been unraveling for seven straight days while you float through the world like he never mattered at all.

Like his words didn’t tear you up.

Like your crying wasn’t real.

But he knows it was.

Because people don’t cry like that over things that don’t hurt.

And he hurt you.

Bad.

⸻

That night, you post a song.

Just one line:

“i still hear your voice when i’m trying to sleep.”

No tag. No caption. Just that.

Matt nearly drops his phone.

Because that’s him. He’s the reason you’re not sleeping. He’s the voice echoing in your head.

He stares at the screen so long it dims.

And then, quietly — barely a whisper — he says:

“I’m sorry.”

But you’re not there.

You’re not listening.

And he’s still the villain in a story he never meant to write.

⸻

A/n: how we doingggg?!

taglist : @sturniolo-szn2 @fadedstvrn @tezzzzzzzz @stayingstromboli @ivysturnss @sturniolofreakk @ihateemetoo @sturniolo-tease @sturniololuv3r @sturnsclam @nxra-cxm @csturniolo43 @mattspillowprincess @sturniolo-fann @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @bernardmatthews @bugs-tags @emely9274 @arianna1342 @stevielovesmatt @riggysworld @ph3ebssturniolo

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: Mentions of family death

A/N: I love Matt but I hate Matt but like ???

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P8: Don't

wc: 2400+

Part of me is begging for Matt to walk in through that door—tear me away from this horrid tension as Chris stares down at me with his arms crossed over his chest. But he doesn’t. The door stays deathly still, the entire room falling into an uncomfortable silence as I sit up straighter on the couch. 

“Why’re you in my house, hm?” he questions, cocking an eyebrow at me as he stalks closer. He lazily plops down on the opposite side of the couch, petting Trevor as the dog curls into a ball between us, “-and why’re you telling my dog you need to piss?” 

“Why are you eavesdropping?” I huff, shaking my head and keeping my eyes set infront of me while standing up and walking down to the bathroom.

How long was he standing there? 

What did he hear? 

I do my business quickly. I take a deep breath, sighing and looking at my reflection in the mirror. God, I look tired—drained, even. 

Walking back into the living room, I see Chris nearly completely sprawled out on the couch. His arm crossed beneath his head, his legs extended but slightly bent—leaving the smallest amount of room for me to sit back down. 

“Trev went to keep my dad company,” he says. I nod while sitting stiffly in the open space. Of course he had to sprawl out—make this entire situation even more uncomfortable. 

“-and, I wasn’t eavesdropping. It’s hard not to hear when you’re yapping so damn loud. In my house, with my dad. Fuckin’ weird if you ask me.” 

His tone is almost bitter—a certain sharpness to his words that felt a little different than his usual insults or remarks. 

“Shut up, Chris,” I breathe, rolling my eyes as I stare around the living room. The only light seeping in through the curtain is that damn streetlight—flickering and blinking on the verge of its life. 

What’s taking Matt so long? 

“Hey, don’t take your shitty date out on me, I didn’t do anything–”

“Really?” I cut off, staring at him with squinted eyes. 

Chris shrugs, his tongue prodding from the inside of his cheek. “Sorry. I guess I’m just upset that you’re in my house, talking to my dad. Don’t you have anyone else to talk to?” he snorts. 

As his eyes gaze into mine, I feel my face fall. “Not really.” 

The statement makes his glare soften to an unreadable expression. He clears his throat, adjusting and sitting up further. He almost looks… sorry?

“Do you know when Matt will be back?” I ask, tapping my foot on the floor as I look towards the front door. 

“I have his location, but my phone is in my room,” Chris announces, his eyes glazed over while he stares at his lap. 

My hands rub together as I hesitantly look over at him. “Can we… can we go look, maybe?” I offer.

Chris nods, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he nudges his head for me to follow. I get up, following his steps as we make the familiar path towards his room, my feet stumbling to a halt as I hover in the doorway. 

He rummages towards his nightstand, holding up his phone attached to a charger. His face creases as he looks over at me. “It’s dead. You can, uh—you can sit if you want to.” 

I hesitantly shift further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed while looking towards my hands. I can feel the rummaging thoughts piling over top of one another, the sensation of panic settling in as the silence consumes the room. 

“Why do you look so nervous, damn,” he laughs, sitting down on his bed with his back resting against the headboard.

I shrug, sucking my lips between my teeth while briefly shaking my head. “Because,” I trail off, sighing as I feel him stare at me, waiting for a response, “-you’re just… I don’t know—you, ugh.” 

Chris shifts, his feet tapping on the floor as he sits on the edge of the bed next to me. “I’m just what?” he taunts. 

My mouth opens to respond, but my face tilts as I see a bright illumination from his phone screen—not the display when the device wakes up after being dead. 

“I thought your phone was dead?” I question. His eyes bulge. He shakes his head, leaning over and turning the device face down. What the fuck? “What am I in here, Chris? What—what games are you playing now?” 

Chris scratches the back of his neck. His eyes wander everywhere around the room, avoiding my gaze at all cost. 

“Whatever,” I huff, starting to stand up. 

My actions are halted by a warm hand landing over my thigh. I look down, seeing his fingers spread with a rough grip, softening as he sighs. “I—just—fuck,” he curses, removing his hand as if it had been burned. 

The thump of my pulse gets quieter. I analyze his face, watching as his jaw clicks tighter. Some part of me seems to soften. I reach out, hesitating as I hold my hand above his shoulder before laying it gently on him. 

“What’s going on? I’m not mad, I’m just…” I shake my head, looking into his eyes as I try to take a deep breath, “-confused.” 

Chris licks over his lips, his hand rubbing over his face as he slumps down and stares at his lap. “I… I wanted to, um—well, I—fuck, this is so hard,” he hisses. 

I watch as he tugs at the roots of his hair, hunching over and placing his elbows on his knees. I let my hand slide down, gently rubbing on his back. He’s been a real dick, but something about him makes everything seem so hazy, like I can never really tell what his true intentions are. 

He was hurt—brutally hurt. And I could understand that more than I wanted to. I knew how it felt to lose someone and have everything change. 

“I don’t know how to even explain—”

“Then don’t,” I interrupt. 

Chris stares at me over his shoulder. His lips press into a thin line, his eyes squinting as if he’s in pain. “Why are you not mad?” he asks. 

I shrug. My eyes drift to his window before tracing back to his face. “I can see you’re trying. Even though whatever is going on seems hard for you… you’re trying,” I answer. 

“Not hard enough,” he snorts, sitting up. 

My hand falls from his back. I hesitantly place it back into my lap, staring at my fingers as I nervously fiddle with them. “Maybe ‘cause you’re not giving yourself any credit.” 

The pointed statement seems to make the silence sink in once more, but this time, it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels calm—peaceful, even. Like he’s letting my words wash over him. 

He lets himself hunch over once more, his hands knotting through his hair aggressively. I wince hearing him hiss as his fingers get stuck in a tangle, my hands shooting up before I can stop myself. 

“What are you doing—”

Chris falls silent, uncomfortably tilting his head as I try to drift my fingers through the knot. “Just let me help.” 

The hair is stubborn. It probably wouldn’t be so knotted if he wasn’t yanking at it so harshly.

“Just…” I huff, “-just lay down. It’ll be easier.” 

He goes stiff, slowly relaxing as his head falls into my lap. I slowly start from the bottom of the knot, working my way towards his scalp. His hair is soft despite the tangle. 

“Chris?” I whisper, my hands clutching towards my chest as I wait for him to move.

But he doesn’t. The only movement is his shoulders sliding up and down with deep breaths. He’s asleep—his head cradled in my lap as I sit on the edge of the bed. 

My eyes start to droop, my hands guiding back into his hair as I brush through the soft strands. Every breath starts to get deeper. I feel myself leaning forward and to the side, crossing my free arm under my head as I rest on his shoulder. 

I like this side of him. I just wish I got to see it more. 

___

“-wake up, c’mon,” 

Peeping one eye open, I see Matt standing in front of me, his hand gently shaking my shoulder. I look down to see Chris in the same position. 

“I’ll take you home, sorry,” Matt whispers, nudging his head towards the door as he walks out. 

What time is it even? 

My body shifts slowly as I move him to lay on the bed. A frown crawls on my face as I watch Chris’s face furrow, his hands grasping onto the sheets as if he’s looking for something. 

I reach out, petting my hand over his cheek and watching him relax once more. His lips puff open with a subtle snore. Hazily, I stand up, analyzing his face as I creep backward. 

“Ready?” Matt asks, looking up from his phone with a shit-eating grin. 

I nod, squinting my eyes with a smile as I wiggle my brows. He blushes, tucking his phone back in his pocket before stalking further with quiet steps. 

As soon as we step out the door, he hands me his phone. I look down at the screen, my eyes going wide as a smile covers my face. It’s a picture—him and Mia, her lips pecking his cheek as he smiles towards the camera. She seems to be holding the phone, her nose crinkled upward and smushed against his cheek. 

That’s adorable. 

“Oh my god! See—you didn’t need me,” I laugh, slapping his phone back into his chest. 

Matt slips the device back into his pocket, walking by my side as we stroll down the path back to my house. “I know, but—thank you. I know you didn’t exactly wanna go,” he remarks. 

Do I tell him? I had already vented to Jimmy. There was no point in spoiling his night with my shitty experience. 

“Is this why you woke me up? Wanted to brag, hm?” I taunt, bumping into his shoulder playfully. 

The quiet neighborhood is deathly calm, but I can feel his excitement radiating off his energy. He’s so giddy—it’s relieving. 

At least it was worth that dumb fucking date.

“I did wanna tell you, I’m not gonna lie,” he mentions, laughing as we turn down the corner to my street, “-but, I also wanted to make sure you got home and your mom wouldn’t be mad or anything, I guess. Or that you wouldn’t have to spend the night with fuckin’ Chris again.”

The scoff in his tone pokes at something in my chest, a sharp sensation flooding over me as I mutter beneath my breath, “It’s not like it’s bad. He was actually being—”

“Don’t.” Matt says. 

My steps halt on the pavement. I look up to Matt, watching him stop and stare back at me with a sigh falling from his lips. 

“Look,” he starts, tugging on my sleeve as we continue walking again, “-I’m saying this as your friend. Chris… he’s not ready for this type of stuff. You—you’re only gonna end up hurt, okay? Just… don’t.” 

Oh. 

My tired eyes flutter with fast blinks. Maybe it was the exhaustion—maybe it was because the air felt too cold blowing into my eyes, but I could feel the heat rush upward, my vision becoming blurry as I blink away tears.

“I’m not… I—I don’t know what’s going on. He just seems so…”

“Lost? Lonely?” Matt fills in. 

I nod, pulling at my clothes as my nose starts to twitch from the cold wind. 

“Chris… he just—he hasn’t coped well, you know? Losing our mom was hard, but our brother–-Nick—that… he can’t look at me anymore. He can barely look at himself,” Matt sighs. 

The lump in my throat is uncomfortable. I swallow thickly, wincing as I feel it glide down into my chest and create a distracting pressure. “I’m confused. What do you—what do you mean?” I ask. 

I feel the energy shift before any words escape his mouth. Everything seems to get eerily quiet, the comforting silence gaining tension as curiosity rings through the air. 

“Nick, our brother. We, um—we’re triplets, or… were? I just… Chris was the most dependant, “ he huffs, laughing dryly, “He was the only one to never be away from one of us for 24 hours, the kid literally couldn’t go a day without saying goodnight to both of us and—”

Matt chokes up on his words. He sniffles, shaking his head furiously while looking down at his feet as we walk slower. “I thought he’d rely on me after everything. But, we’re triplets—identical. He—he couldn’t even look at me without—” 

I place my hand on his shoulder as his sentence falls flat. Matt takes a deep breath, sighing as he places his hand over mine, pulling it towards his chest while holding it tightly. 

“Listen to me,” my ears perk at his words, his eyes looking into mine with raw emotion, “-don’t. He’s not ready, he’s…”

“I get it,” I interrupt, watching as Matt nods, slowly dropping my hand. He stays put as I walk up the two cement stairs to the entrance of my house. 

I pull out my keys, inserting them slowly into the keyhole of my front door, gently pushing it open before giving him one last look over my shoulder. “Thanks,” I mouth, trying to be as silent as possible as I hear the dark home echo with the slightest whisper. 

“Thank you,” he whispers back, nodding affirmatively before turning on the heel of his shoe, walking away as I shut the door. 

It shouldn’t hurt. Chris was more mean to me than anything else. In fact, I’d never even had him truly apologize—not with his words. 

But I didn’t really crave an apology.

I just want to understand.

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35

A/N: The center photo is indicative of the reader's gown only. Not her appearance which isn't defined.

Part 35: Dance with the Devil

Series Masterlist

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, intimidation, dark seduction. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan these for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."

You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.

"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"

You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 

"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."

"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."

The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.

"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he told you. 

"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?

Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."

"I love you, too." 

His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 

The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 

"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."

You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.

It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.

"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.

"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.

"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."

The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."

The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.

Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 

Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 

"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.

"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 

"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.

You shook your head. "This is my first one."

The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."

"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."

Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 

Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.

"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.

"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.

Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.

"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 

"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."

Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 

"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"

Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"

You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.

Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 

It was a very important night for Steve.

He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.

When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 

The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.

Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.

"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.

Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"

The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.

"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."

Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.

"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."

Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 

You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.

And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

Barnes.

Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.

His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.

Stop staring at the man and answer.

"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.

Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."

"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."

Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."

"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.

As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"

Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."

You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."

Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."

You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?

"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"

You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 

"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."

"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."

Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."

Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.

"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."

"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.

"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."

Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?

"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."

"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."

"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."

Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.

"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."

As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.

"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."

Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."

You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.

"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 

"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."

"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."

"Where's Steve?" you asked.

"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."

You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."

But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.

"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."

"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."

You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."

With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.

You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 

Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.

"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 

"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."

Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 

"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.

Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 

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Raincheck - Matt Sturniolo

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P - bf!Matt x fem!Reader Sum - When your boyfriend, Matt, finds out about your plans to go out over the weekend, he picks petty fights with you all weeks. When the day finally comes, he makes sure to give you shit about choice of clothing. W - established relationship, slightly toxic Matt, trust issues, strong language, lil angsty?? Wc - 1522 An - This was too relatable cause my man hates to see me going out in any type of clothing that makes my body look good 🫣 haven’t posted about Matt in a while, been missing my delulu man 🥹 hope you guys like it!! (My dividers, feel free to use!) Masterlist City of Love - I- II - III Babydaddy Chris - Positive - Mama - Changed Woman - Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls

You tilt the perfume bottle at an odd angle, successfully misting yourself with your signature scent before checking over your appearance in the mirror. One of your best friends had a birthday on thursday, making plans with your friend group to celebrate over the weekend. Celebrating anything in your friend group meant everyone getting absolutely shitfaced, they spoke for themselves when it came to that matter because you'd usually end up being the designated driver on nights like this. Very rarely letting yourself get as drunk as your friends, water was your main chaser, and even if you did get too drunk, your boyfriend was always quick to rush to your rescue. He wasn't the going out type and he wished you weren't either.

A light knock makes you stop touching up your lip stick, breaking eye contact with your reflection to look at the culprit of the mouse-like noise. Your boyfriend, Matt, stands there with his side pressed against the door frame with knitted brows and pursed lips. Raising your eyebrows at him, insinuating you wanted him to tell you why he had the troubled expression on his face, “yes Matthew?” you coo in a teasing tone. 

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms over his chest, “you’re really going out like that?” His question was more of a statement because he knew that’s exactly what you were doing. You told Matt earlier in the week about your plans to go out with a few of your girlfriends, but just like every time you decided to make plans, he had something to say about it. Matt had been picking petty arguments with you since you told him about your plans of going out. Normally, little things like leaving the garage door open and not cleaning your hair out of the shower drain didn’t bother him, but knowing you’d be in some random club, tipsy, around your slutty drunk friends who’d more than likely influence you to go home with the first guy who approached you, didn’t make him want to bite his tongue. He was pissed and he wasn’t sparing any feelings. 

You knew Matt had a difficult time expressing his emotions. He had always been a bit insecure but when he opened up about his ex cheating on him, it all made sense. He was just a little broken, and that was okay with you. It was challenging at times, but you learned to deal with it. A sigh rolls off your chest, “it’s not that bad, Matt,” you tell him, letting a smile pull at your lips as you inch closer to him. He keeps the same somber expression, not objecting when your arms wrap around his neck. Your dainty touch smooths lines down the nape of his neck, making his gaze stick to yours like glue, “I have a jacket," you urge, hoping for his approval, "not showing that much, right?”

You watch as Matt's face warps with frustration and a hint of uneasiness, his hands falling to your waist to push you back an inch. The attitude instantly washes over you, causing you to step back and suck your teeth. Matt fixes his posture, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as he leans toward you, “your dress barely covers your ass.”

His comment earns one of your legendary eye rolls. Matt could be really inconsiderate at times. If he took the hint, he could’ve avoided another argument by telling you he didn't feel comfortable with your outfit. You had no problem changing clothes if that was the case, but it wasn't. Instead, he searched for an argument, hiding the fact he was letting his insecurities get the best of him. “I don’t plan on bending over and showing everyone my ass,” you shoot back, turning your attention back to the sink to scoop all of your makeup products back into the bag. “You’re not going out like that,” he orders, not letting up on his argument. 

“I bought this dress last month and haven’t been able to wear it yet,” you mumble, not wanting to make matters worse. You hated when Matt was upset with you, but you knew you were straying away from your friends by constantly cancelling on them all because he couldn’t handle the thought of his girlfriend in a packed setting full of drunk, horny bastards without him. 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he fixes his posture, standing upright, “you need to change your fucking clothes, Y/n. My girlfriend isn’t going out dressed like that,” he seethes, tangling a hand in his brown locks, “do you know how many people know me, that know you’re linked to me? That shit is embarrassing,” Matt rambles on angrily as he watches you stuff all your belongings into your makeup bag. A few tears threaten to brim your waterline, making you quickly blink them away, “I just want to hang out with my friends, Matt. You can come with me, I know it’s not really your vibe but-” you start, but just like your tears, your words go unnoticed. 

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, making you look at him, “the fuck am I supposed to do, wait in the parking lot?” For a minute you thought your suggestion was doing some good. Given his response, it was probably the worst thing you could've said at that moment. A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and when you open your mouth to speak, Matt cuts you off before you have a chance to get the words out, “I’m not letting you go out like that, no fucking way.” He keeps his hardened gazed on you, his arms crossed tight over his chest. You knew Matt wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t the outfit that bothered him, it was the fact that his girlfriend was going out and he had no way to keep an eye on her, no way to make sure she was safe from random, drunk douchebags. Running your tongue along your teeth once more, “so, if I change you wouldn’t have a problem with me going out?” Knowing the real reason why Matt didn’t want you to go out to begin with, you knew he’d be stuck on the idea of having you home with him. It was clear he already did too much overthinking about the situation, you didn’t want to make it worse. When Matt stays silent, breaking eye contact with you, his actions confirm your suspicions. He wasn't going to let you leave at all. 

Turning your body to him, you push out another lengthy breath, “Matt, c’mon, this is really what we’re doing?” you point out, keeping your voice light. Both of you knew it was silly for him to be acting this way, you would never in a million years think about doing anything to jeopardize your relationship.

Matt being the stubborn man he is, finally decides to speak out, “I’m serious. I wouldn’t let you go to the grocery store like that, let alone the fucking club, around a whole bunch of stupid drunk-,” he cuts himself off by pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a huff of air. Fed up with his shitty excuses, you match his frustrated energy by attempting to push past him to exit the bathroom. The only thing you weren’t expecting was for him to wrap a hand around your arm, pulling you so close your chest was pressed against his. Matt bows his head down to your level, locking his eyes on yours. They were so blue you felt like you could drown in them any second, and you were a fairly good swimmer. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to keep quiet, Matt was never this hands on with you, but you weren’t complaining. His sudden need to tell you what you were going to do had a pool forming in your panties.

Matt lets his gaze bounce between your eyes and lips for a moment before he smashes his lips into yours. Letting his hands snake around waist, he glides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you grant him access. Matt walks you a few steps back until you’re pinned against the bathroom door, letting his hands explore your body while his tongue dances with yours. This wasn’t a normal kiss you’d shared with Matt, it was more passionate, like he was trying to convince you to stay. When he pulls away, he presses his forehead to yours, “I need you to stay home tonight.” He closes in the gape by pressing another sloppy kiss to your lips, “please.”

His blue eyes send you into a hypnotic trance again, making you nod a few times, “y-yea okay. I’ll raincheck,” you mumble, not giving yourself the chance to weigh out your options. You knew your friend group would be pissed for rain checking on them again, but Matt wasn’t to blame for his insecurities, and you didn’t want to make it any worse for him. He needed you at home with him, like he said. 

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people

(Making a tag list soon so be looking forwards to getting tagged lol. If anyone wants added in the mean time just let me know!)

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

[sturnioz]

Matt would be the type to help his gf get ready to go somewhere 🤧💜 He'd (try to) style her hair and give kisses telling her how pretty she isss

waittttt i have something similar-ish written in the drafts for a next drabble. i'll post it under the cut here instead

you're sitting in front of your mirror on the floor, applying your most favourite shade of eyeshadow to your lids and mouthing the lyrics to a song that plays from your phone in the background, while matt clings to your back from behind — his arms wrapped around your middle and legs on either side of yours with his cheek resting on your shoulder.

his steady breathing confirms that he's asleep, and the hands that are splayed across your stomach that twitch every so often prove that he was dreaming. you didn't mind the stuffy position you were caught in, you found comfort in his embrace, you felt at ease.

although, you did find it difficult to do your hair, so you decided to leave it until the last second, not daring to move too much as you were afraid you'd wake up matt.

you knew he hasn't been sleeping well — being too busy filming youtube videos and travelling to places to get the best content possible. he was, undoubtedly, a people pleaser. and as much as you loved that about him.... you also hated it. it constantly caused disagreements between you both when you demand that he needs to put himself first.

but similar to you, matt is stubborn. he doesn't listen. he thinks he can carry the entire world on his shoulders. but then he crumbles and you're there with that 'i told you so' look on your face — but your arms are still open wide, waiting for him.

finishing your eyes off with a quick coat of mascara, you lean your body forward to get closer to the mirror with the lip liner in your hand, creating too much of a movement that the arms around your waist begin to tighten.

"don't move..." matt whispers tiredly, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder as he tries to tug you back into him.

"i'm trying to do my lips," you tell him while doing do, trying your hardest not to laugh and mess up anything up as matt awkwardly shuffles to get closer again. your eyes meet his through the reflection. "did i wake you up?"

"m'yeah — mhm." matt mumbles with a nod, unlocking his hands from around your middle to dip beneath the shirt of his that you're wearing, the pads of his fingers pressing against your warm skin. he caresses your stomach gently as he watches you apply the lipstick next, a tired smile falling on his face at the way you pucker your lips.

he almost asks for a kiss.

seeming as he's now wide awake, you take this opportunity to fix you hair, some hitting matt across the face as you move your head around but he blows it away carelessly before offering to do it himself.

his hands slip away from beneath the shirt to grab what was needed while you ramble on about something passionately which results in you moving your head a little too much for matt, and he tugs your hair in warning, sending a small glare through the mirrors reflection before resuming.

matt does what he's seen you do a million times before — copying your routine with precise before he manhandles you around to have you sit facing him on his lap. you remain unfazed by his actions, allowing him to do as he pleases, and he holds your face in his hands as he carefully checks over your hair for anything out of place, but he smiles widely when he spots none.

"looks good?" you ask him.

"mhm — you look pretty, baby." matt compliments you, and he leans forward for a kiss but you yell about your lipstick and not wanting him to smudge it, and you throw your head back as you threaten him, but matt refuses you listen as he grabs your face and yanks you towards him, grinning as he captures you lips in a tender kiss.