#Matthew Ceo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sturn777 · 3 days ago

Text

there's a new neighbor in town . | ( female reader ) wc 1.5k + ( masterlist ) II next ▷ ↺

YOU WERE USED TO ALWAYS PLAYING the perfect, prim little girl with a spoiled attitude and a fake smile. your dad’s a ceo, and that means you’re expected to always look put together, even if it means dealing with things you absolutely don’t care about.

like delivering a tray of homemade cookies to the new neighbor.

it’s not that you care about the new neighbor. it’s not even that you really care about your dad’s request. you don’t. you’re doing it for the sole purpose of proving to your parents that you've matured now, and are able to fulfill their requests. so, cookie tray in hand, you march over to the sturniolo’s doorstep, making sure to flash the biggest, fakest smile you can muster.

you knock on the door, adjusting your hair one last time. when the door swings open, you are greeted by the sight of him.

chris sturniolo. pretty tall, with a smirk that says he knows exactly what you're thinking. his light blue eyes take in your presence, but he doesn’t look all that impressed, like he’s already used to people acting like this around him.

"hi, sir! welcome to the neighborhood!" you say, your tone dripping with sweetness, but the fake smile you wear says otherwise.

he raises an eyebrow at you, his lips curving into that cocky smirk again. he's probably laughing at you in his head, but you don’t care.

"sir?" he says, his voice low, amused. "really?"

you blink, the fake smile wavering for a moment as you glance up at him. "well … i mean, you look older than me," you say, trying to save face. you can’t tell if he’s a few years older or just the same age, but it doesn’t matter. you just want to get this over with.

chris chuckles softly, leaning against the doorframe.

you roll your eyes internally, irritated but trying not to show it. "i brought cookies," you say, holding up the tray with exaggerated grace. "just, you know, to make you feel welcomed."

"how thoughtful," chris replies, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "why don’t you come inside and make yourself comfortable, doll?"

your heart skips a beat at the nickname, but you keep your cool. “thanks, but no thanks. i've got things to do.” you say, ready to leave. but the way his eyes seem to twinkle with mischief makes you hesitate for a second longer.

“c'mon, it's the least i can do, y'know, returning the favor and all.” he continued, tilting his head softly. “just, come inside and get a drink.”

you sighed, handing him the tray of cookies as you stepped inside carefully. “oh, well, thanks.” you muttered, silently cursing at yourself for taking on your parents' wish in the first place.

“don't mind the mess, sweetheart. had a, uhh, guest over.” his voice mused from behind, closing the door and walking to place the tray on the countertop.

guest, my ass. you could smell the faint lingering women's perfume as you looked around the spacious living area, marble floors and high walls. nothing out of the ordinary.

you glanced around, seeing a pair of black panties tucked underneath the couch, eyebrows furrowing softly as you turned back to look at him. chris appeared to be rummaging through the kitchen cabinets in search for something, probably glasses. “no maids yet?” you inquired.

chris turned at the sound of your voice, a smirk already playing on his lips before he even registered what you were asking. he leaned casually against the counter, a glass dangling from his fingers, his relaxed demeanor as infuriating as ever.

“nope,” he replied smoothly, his voice carrying that teasing edge you’d come to associate with him. “why? you offering to help out?”

your eyebrows raised at his audacity, lips twitching into a sharp smile. “not a chance,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “just seems like a guy would’ve hired someone by now. you know, to deal with… things lying around.”

you tilted your head ever so slightly toward the couch, your tone dripping with fake politeness.

his gaze followed yours, his smirk widening when he spotted the black panties half-hidden under the couch. he didn’t even flinch, his confidence unshakable. “ah,” he said, dragging out the syllable like he was amused. “didn’t think you’d be so interested in my... décor.”

“interested?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “hardly. just don’t want to sit down and find someone’s—”

“relax, doll,” chris interrupted, stepping closer, two glasses of lemonade in his hands. “you’re the only one i’d ever let touch that couch.” your breath hitched at the sudden shift in his tone, his words smooth and low, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine.

"here you go," he muttered casually, handing you the drink with an ease that seemed second nature, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. the contact was fleeting, but enough to make you glance up at him, studying his unreadable expression as he took a sip of his own drink.

chris’s gaze wandered across the room, his sharp eyes flicking over the spacious mansion like he was inspecting it for the first time. the pristine white walls, the expensive art pieces, the sleek, modern furniture, it all screamed wealth, power, and a life that didn’t need anyone else.

“nice place,” you said after a beat, your voice light, trying to break the heavy silence that had settled between you. he huffed out a small laugh, low and almost cynical. “you think?” he asked, not looking at you, his tone casual.

“most people would kill for a house like this,” you said, gesturing around with your glass. “yeah,” he said, finally turning to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. “but it doesn’t feel like home, does it?”

you paused, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, the vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface of his cocky exterior. “no maids, no warmth, and apparently no decorum,” you quipped, nodding toward the couch.

his smirk deepened, the momentary crack in his façade gone as quickly as it appeared. “what can i say? i keep it real.”

“real messy,” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink. “messy’s not always a bad thing,” he said, leaning against the counter, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip.

you didn’t know whether to roll your eyes or blush under his gaze. instead, you took another sip of your drink, your pulse quickening as his smirk widened, like he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

"anyways," he muttered, his voice casual as he took another sip of his drink, "’m gonna hire some help soon. just haven’t had the time, yet."

your brows raised at his nonchalant tone. “oh, right,” you teased, setting your glass down on the counter. “must be exhausting having all this… space to yourself. can’t imagine how you cope.”

he smirked, leaning a hip against the counter as his eyes lazily trailed over you. “you’d be surprised,” he replied, his voice low, laced with a subtle challenge. “but you’re welcome to stick around if you’re so concerned. lend a hand.”

“concerned?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i’m not concerned. just trying to figure out how someone with all this doesn’t even have the basics figured out.”

he chuckled, the sound deep and warm, as though he found your attitude amusing. “basics aren’t my style,” he said, his smirk widening. “i like to keep thing spontaneous.”

“right,” you deadpanned, though the way his gaze lingered on you made it hard to keep your composure. “because leaving underwear under the couch screams ‘spontaneous.’”

he tilted his head softly. “depends on whose it is.” you rolled your eyes, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your cool demeanor. “you’re impossible.”

“nah,” he said, setting his glass down beside yours and stepping just a little closer, his presence overwhelming in the best and worst ways. “i’m just honest.”

"how old were you, again, doll?" chris asked, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

"nineteen," you replied, watching his reaction closely. "ah," he muttered, nodding softly, his gaze briefly flitting to his watch. "’m twenty-one."

he shifted his weight, scanning the room before looking back at his watch again, his expression suddenly changing. “shit, ’m sorry. gonna have to finish this great conversation another time, got a meeting right now.”

“yeah, no worries. thanks…” you muttered, forcing politeness into your tone even though irritation simmered beneath it.

“don’t mention it,” he mumbled carelessly, not sparing you a second glance as he quickly moved to the counter, placing his glass down with a clink before heading toward the stairs.

"don’t forget to close the door on your way out," he called over his shoulder, disappearing upstairs without so much as a backward glance.

you stood there for a moment, staring at the now-empty staircase, your fake smile dropping as annoyance bubbled to the surface. grabbing your things, you made your way to the door, letting it click shut with more force than necessary.

"what an ass," you muttered under your breath as you walked away, already plotting what to do the next time you saw him.

🏷 : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel ; @awnmaneez ; @heartss4clauu ; @mattsstarlet ; @madisturni ; @marrykisskilled ; @allmylovc ; @mattsdemi ; @sturnioloangell ; @scream6fanxx ; @amelia-sturniolo3 ; @dominicfikeenthusiast ; @sophand4n4 )

divider : @issysh3ll

154 notes · View notes