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mattybsgroupie · 1 month

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birthday | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; oral (f receiving); praising; degradation; restraining; p in v; creampie; use of “y/n”; dom!matt

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notes: good evening my loves! i hope we’re still celebrating matt’s birthday around here cause i only got the motivation to write after receiving this request and i’m finally feeling better so expect many fics coming. yes i am doing a lot of dom!matt but i promise i’ll go back to my sub!matt agenda after posting part 2 of secret (yes, with that thing y’all asked for). thank you for being so patient with me and for all the love, you guys are the best. not proofread as usual, please excuse any mistakes! enjoy <3

requested by: the sweetest @ivammbb! this request made me so happy and i really hope you enjoy it sweetheart!

- ♡ -

“i already said no y/n, stop trying” matt hissed as my digits ran through the veins of his neck, going upwards to caress his beard. i really was trying my best — we couldn’t celebrate his birthday properly, and now matt insisted he didn’t want anything. i pouted at him, pretending to be upset that he was punishing me.

“stop” he said again, this time in a softer tone. i knew he wasn’t actually mad, he just wanted to see me suffer a little bit. “you know i can’t resist when you pout like that” he grabbed my jaw with his long fingers, tilting my chin up so i’d look at his blue eyes. matt smirked as i parted my lips, my breath getting heavier with the thought of him holding my neck with the same pressure he’d kept my jaw locked.

“you wanna make up for it? for being a brat and not giving me a birthday gift?” i nodded eagerly, adjusting myself on his lap. matt closed his eyes for a second with the sudden movement of my ass over his covered cock, which i could feel becoming harder under me.

“fucking behave” he said while placing his thumb at my lower lip, playing with the flesh before intruding my mouth, resting his finger against my tongue, expecting me to start sucking.

i latched my lips around his knuckle, swirling my tongue the same way i used to do with his dick. matt brought his index near my lips, exchanging the fingers inside and pushing it deeper down my throat. i wanted to be good. i needed to be good for him, to show him how guilty i felt for not celebrating his birthday on time.

“atta girl” matt praised, sending a shiver down my spine as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting me rest my cheek against his free palm. “are you gonna be good for me?”

“yes” i mumbled, touching his wrist, silently asking for permission to remove him from my mouth. i guided matt’s hand to my breasts, allowing him to cup my titties as i leaned forward, brushing my lips against his.

matt took my lips to himself in a hungry, passionate kiss, full of longing and desire. his hand quickly slipped under my t-shirt, dragging his large palm along my tummy, tracing its way up to my bra, which he attempted to unhook several times.

“don't you wanna take a look at it first?” i asked in the midst of our kiss, tugging at the hem of my t-shirt and teasing him. matt rested his hands on my thighs again, eventually stroking my hips and trying not to press too hard, unwilling to let out the desperation that the twitching cock under me revealed.

i took my top off, showing him my new lingerie — one i had bought just for him, for his birthday. his eyes widened for a second before giving me a naughty smirk, admiring the pink pattern of the fabric and the ruffles that adorned my breasts. “you look so pretty”, he whispered, biting my earlobe.

“there's more”, i said as i wrapped my forearms around his neck, moving closer to his chest. he slid his fingers into my shorts, squeezing my ass and playing with the fabric of my panties.

i careful lifted my ass up, granting him access to remove my shorts before pressing my weight down on him again. i was only wearing the lingerie set now, feeling confident that he had enjoyed the surprise. my panties also had a bow that matched the details of my bra and matt rapidly changed his expression when he noticed that my underwear was already soaked.

“how long have you been planning that, hm?” he asked while sealing his lips on my bare skin. i already knew that i wouldn't be able to celebrate his birthday on time, so i had been saving this set for a special occasion. “naughty girl” he didn't need the answer. he was aware i had spent way longer than i should have.

“you still need to be punished, baby” matt said, stopping the kisses on my neck and looking at me with faux sympathy. i denied it with my head once again, matt clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth in disapproval. “yes, don't be a brat. even though you look beautiful right now, you were a bad fucking girl to me”. fuck, i loved when he talked like that.

matt flipped our bodies, getting on top of me, leaving me completely at the mercy of his will. he was still fully dressed, not caring about how much his drooling cock marked his pants, the pre-cum stain appearing on the grey sweater.

his digits traced my body, gently caressing my thighs before resting his face on my hipbone, giving kisses that soon turned into love bites. matt moved to the insides of my flesh, making a hickey that only he would be able to see later. i desperately brought my fingers to his brown locks, silently pleading for some attention on the part he hadn't even gotten close to.

matt stuck out his tongue, giving a long lick over the wet patch on my panties. i could see him smirking as soon as my fingers tangled in his strands, pushing his head down to stay in place and finally eat me out.

“i'm not taking it off babe” he said, cutting my expectations but soon raising his index, pulling the seams of my panties aside, exposing my swollen pussy. “look so pretty like that, my good little slut” his words made me hold back a moan and shift my hips downwards, begging for a bit of friction.

matt adjusted his position between my legs, still pulling my underwear aside and holding my hips with both hands before bringing his face closer to my clit. he let out a thick string of saliva fall down from his lips, spitting against my heated clit before sucking on my lower lips, rolling his tongue through my wet folds. as my legs began twitching, matt focused his attention on my clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking harder.

“stop squirming around” he muffled, sending a wave of vibrations through my pussy, making my hips buck upwards as the knot in my lower belly started to get tighter. “fucking whore, can't even control yourself?”

“‘m s-sorry! fuck!” i whimpered, trying my best to stay in place. matt clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth once again, disapproving my behavior. he gave one last lick on my folds, gradually removing himself from my heat and making me groan from the lack of stimulation.

“on fours. now.” he demanded and i crossed my legs, bringing my foot to my ankle and caressing it, teasing him. “you wanna play so fucking much?” matt hissed, standing up on the bed with both knees and reaching for something in the first drawer of the nightstand. “i'll tell you one more time, y/n. turn over”

“what if i don't?” i didn't even notice that the words had slipped out of my mouth, startling myself when matt revealed a silk ribbon that we only had used a few times, usually to blindfold each other on sexier nights.

i thought that was about to happen, he’d blindfold me and fuck me relentlessly. instead, he grabbed my thighs and flipped me over on the bed, pressing my chest against the mattress, forcing my back down so my ass would remain up. he gave me a hard slap, causing me to moan as i felt the warm tingle of his palm making my blood rush.

“you're such a slut” matt said, and even though i couldn't fully see him anymore, i knew he had a wide grin on his face. still standing on his knees, matt hovered over my body, taking one of my hands and placing it on my lower back. i whined, realizing that he was about to tie me up and restrain my movements.

he reached for my other arm and pulled it together with the previous one, gathering my wrists and quickly tying them with the pink silk ribbon that matched my lingerie. matt didn't tie it too tightly — i knew he wouldn't hurt me — but the feeling of giving him total control of my body made my pussy clench again, my juices dripping through the cloth.

“didn’t even wanna take this pretty little thing off” he talked about my panties as he touched my waistband, gently allowing it to slide down my thighs. he squeezed my ass once again, spreading my asscheeks apart as he took his cock out of his pants, guiding it near my pussy.

matt brushed his shaft against my entrance, and dragged his dick along my folds, pushing its throbbing tip on my clit before returning to my hole. “don't wanna hear a word, alright?” he warned me, starting to bury himself inside of me.

i couldn't stop a groan from rising in the back of my throat as he entered me completely. matt was huge and he didn't give me time to adjust to his size, bucking his hips forward, one hand gripping my arms back while the other supported my body so i wouldn't fall on the sheets beneath us. nevertheless, his moves were smooth and steady, not wanting to cum too fast after being away for too long.

“matt, mhm-” i attempted to speak, receiving a deep thrust of his length, making me squeeze my eyes shut as my wrists frantically struggled to be freed from his grip, which only got tighter. “please!” i managed to cry out, pushing my hips back, receiving a moan from him.

“y/n, fuck” he grunted, lowering his body closer to mine, almost gluing his chest to my back. matt started to kiss my shoulders and every piece of flesh his lips could reach, his pace now becoming faster and sloppier, not being able to keep a proper rhythm as my walls clenched against his drooling cock.

“cum-” i panted, “wanna cum, please”

“you think” matt started “you deserve” he continued, bucking his hips forward as he spoke, “to cum?” i couldn't form a single sentence anymore, my mind becoming foggy as i tried to hold my approaching orgasm.

my legs had no strength left and i knew the only reason i was standing was because his large hand held me up. “can’t even speak?” i denied with my head, my parted lips letting out loud cries.

“cum for me” he demanded and i thanked him mindlessly as my orgasm crashed down on me, the waves of pleasure causing my body to tremble and bounce on his cock, also leading matt to his climax, cumming long, thick spurts inside of me.

“that’s it princess, making a mess on my cock like the good slut you aren” his dick twitched as his release filled me up, a few last truths to help him finish off.

matt slowly pulled out, making me whine as i felt the mixture of both of our releases dripping down my thighs. he chuckled at the scene, finally letting go of my wrists and allowing me to rest. matt lied down next to me, his hand caressing my body as we both took deep breaths, slowly coming back to our senses.

“happy belated birthday baby” i whispered, receiving a giggle from him as he moved closer to me, opening his arms so i would snuggle into his chest.

“you’re the best gift i could ask for” he said, kissing the top of my head and smiling, finally forgiving me for not being there on his birthday.

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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25

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mingigoo · 7 months

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look after you || k.hj (m.)

🩺 pairing ⇢ nurse! (fem) reader x struggling musician! Hongjoong

🩺 synopsis ⇢ after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...

🩺 genre/au ⇢ enemies to lovers (kind of), some angst, smut, fluff, hospital au

🩺 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, injury, car accident, hospital scenes, unprotected sex, undefined relationship, mention of possible suicide attempt, Hongjoong is a scruffy underground musician, trauma with touch, tattoo!joong, grumpy sunshine, cum shot, biting, teasing

🩺 word count ⇢ 10.3k

🩺 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

masterlist

A/N ⇢ this story is purely fictional! I am not nurse, and do not have unlimited knowledge on this topic. However, I am a healthcare worker, so I know a little, but not a lot. I am sorry for any information this is incorrect. This is meant for entertainment purposes only. This is not meant to take place in reality.

They never prepare you enough for the things you might see within the hospital walls.

Nothing is ever enough within those few years of education, the desperate attempt to create life savers. No one tells you how much it hurts to see a child suffer until death, a mother, a daughter.

You just wanted to be something. Do something. Be like the girl you dreamed of being as a child—a child who put bandaids on her mother, all over, decorating her like a painting. Sometimes, your mother would act like she was hurt, just for you to play make-belief, “stitching” up her “wounds.”

And here you were, in the hospital locker room, tears falling silently down your cheeks as you unclipped your hair, letting it fall just like the tears. You sniffed, hiding your face in the locker, although no one was around to see. It was embarrassing enough to yourself—you couldn't believe you were crying. You just…couldn't stop.

The day was rough—just too much. Too much death, too much sadness. This wasn't what you dreamed of. You never thought about how hard it would be to put a smile on your face to a patient, right after witnessing someone leave the world. To act, really. You should've taken up that career instead. You were pretty damn good at doing it—well, until you landed behind the curtain.

You haven't slept in ages. It's been constant insomnia on top of twelve-hour shifts, sometimes even longer, and once you are able to lay down, the only thing you hear is the sound of a patient crashing, the cries of family members. It had you questioning your profession. Your devotion. Your childhood.

As you made your drive home, for some reason, the lines on the road soothed you. Your eyes began to beg for sleep, rolling back ever so slightly as you continued. The gentle patter of rain graced the windshield, the red hue of the stoplight in front of you nearing.

You stopped at the light—pausing to look at the city around you. The city was bright, even at the dark hour of midnight. People were walking, carrying on, bar lights bright, apartments lit up in an array of colors. You took in a breath and closed your eyes.

And you closed them a little too long when a car horn sounded behind you.

You jumped, feeling apologetic for holding up the line, and continued forward. People passed you with impatience, but you didn't care. You kept going, crawling, really, till you felt sleep creep up once again, shutting your eyes. You drifted off, only for a short moment, and suddenly you awoke with haste—but not quick enough. In your headlights stood a man, walking across the street, and you didn't have enough time to move. You slowed as best you could, tires screeching, praying to anything, anyone, that this was your imagination.

As your car came to a screeching halt, you hit the man with a thump, causing him to crumble to the ground. You gasped, now wide awake, a scream caught in your throat.

You swallowed hard, hands shaking as you pulled over as best as you could and put your vehicle in park, looking around for any sign of someone.

No one, absolutely no one, but you and this man you just hit. Just a few blocks back, the city was bustling, bars were hopping, but now, it was like a wasteland. You stepped out of your car, gasping for air, and sprinted through the rain to get to the man.

He was lying still, his head bleeding, his back on the asphalt. His black clothing hid the damage he received from the hit, hiding his body, his black hair covering his face. The only thing you saw was the black ink of a tattoo on his hand as it grasped the road.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, kneeling down to him. You assessed him as best as you could, fighting an anxiety attack. “I am so sorry, oh my god.”

He groaned in response, his arm visibly broken. You hurriedly dialed the emergency line, panting, nearly in tears. You didn't even think about the consequences of this action—you were only worried about the man, the stranger, in front of you.

After nearly crying once more on the phone, the paramedics explained that they would arrive quickly. You hung up and looked over the stranger once more. “Are you alive?” you asked like a dumb ass, nearly face-palming. You were a nurse, goddammit. Act like one.

You leaned over him, as gently as possible, putting a finger under his nose, and you felt a soft breath hit it. You checked for an airway obstruction, but nothing. He was breathing fine. In pain, but breathing.

The man tried to move, to roll over sharply, but you quickly bellowed, “Wait, please, you could have a spinal injury,” you pleaded, and surprisingly he stopped. “Don't move.” You caught a glimpse of his face. A large cut near his eyebrow painted his skin crimson, but his eyes were beautiful. His lip was cut, too, and you felt immense pain just looking at him. God, what if he was homeless? He looked it. What if he didn't have insurance? Oh god—

You saw how much blood was coming from his head as he looked up at you. His eyes were hazy, like he wasn't really seeing. You hurriedly looked around for anything to stop his bleeding, and when you found nothing, you took your coat off, then your scrub top, and you quickly put your coat back on. You held your shirt to his head as gently as possible, applying pressure, praying that the paramedics would come soon—

Your anxious thoughts were interrupted by sirens. You let out a sigh of relief.

When the ambulance pulled up, two men came to you with a stretcher. You were barely alert enough to hear them say anything. You mumbled a few things, your hands shaking as they set down the gurney. You mumbled to have them put on a neck brace, chest tightening at how the man cried in pain. You let out an ugly cry with him, but no tears fell. They gently rested him on the stretcher, his head steady, but his arm—

“Are you crazy!” you hissed, standing up quickly. “His arm….he needs his arm stabilized!”

“I’m sorry, mam,” the one man condescendingly said, giving you a dull look. “We know how to do our job. We don't need your input.”

You huffed. Mam? Mam? That was insulting. “I’m a nurse, I also know what I’m talking about.”

They ignored you like everyone seemed to ignore you. They began to move away, but a small object caught their eye that lay right where the man was. You picked it up, finding it to be an empty wallet—you’d give it back later.

They rolled him towards the ambulance, and you followed, forgetting about your car, and everything in it, leaving the scene behind. The paramedics didn't seem to care that you went with them, so you sat in the vehicle, watching them treat the guy you hit. You wanted to throw up as they treated him, as you sat still, like a worthless piece of paper. A crumbled-up piece of paper. Yeah. Crumbled.

When you arrived at the hospital—a hospital that wasn't yours, you walked beside the homeless man, nearly reaching for his hand. However, your race with him was put to a stop as the emergency room staff stopped you as he headed into the wing.

“I’m sorry, only family members are allowed inside,” the woman softly muttered, her eyes genuine.

She reminded you of yourself.

What….what if this man was really homeless? What if he had no help, no insurance, no family? You had to do something. You’d feel horrible if you didn't do anything.

“I’m—I’m his wife!” you blurted out, louder than you intended.

The young lady gave you a heartfelt look and nodded towards the door. “Go ahead. There’s a waiting room inside. What’s your name? I’ll let them know you’re the guardian.”

You told her your name, sparing no second longer than needed, and you ran into the emergency room, sitting down in a hurry.

It was now a waiting game.

—

For what seemed like forever, a doctor came out into the waiting room, looking right at you.

“Miss y/n?” He asked.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “….You are Kim Hongjoong’s guardian?”

You paused, almost forgetting your whole spiel at the entrance. You remembered the name from his ID in his wallet, and nodded sharply, standing up quickly. “Is he all right?”

“He sustained many injuries, but nothing too major. His arm is broken in three places, and that will limit his mobility quite a lot. We set his arm, but he might possibly need surgery.”

You nodded, relief washing over you. Good, minor injuries. Phew.

The doctor pondered for a long while as he stared at you. “The paramedics stated that you were the one to hit him with the car.”

You sighed. “Yeah, he came out of nowhere—”

“Why was he walking alone so late at night?”

You looked around the waiting room, seeing only one other soul in the corner seat, sleeping. You wondered about what to say, as your little white lie was becoming a web.

“I uh….he works late?”

“He was intoxicated at the time of the accident—”

“He works at a bar?” you tried not to sound like you were questioning that statement.

The doctor deadpanned and then sighed. “Listen, I’m sure there's stuff that’s none of my business. So I’m going to choose to ignore this,” he nodded toward the emergency wing. “But you’re welcome to go see him. He’s awake now.”

You wondered for a second whether you should go back there. If he was going to rip your head off for lying, for hitting him with your damn car.

You nodded, telling yourself to grow some damn balls. “Okay, I’ll see him.”

The doctor led you to a room at the very end of the hall, the lights dim. There, in front of you, was the man you hit. He was all bandaged up, a large one spanning around his forehead, covering some of the spikey black hair. His arm was wrapped in a cast and held up for circulation, and his eyes were wide open. Right on you.

“Your wife is here,” the doctor spoke nonchalantly as he entered with you. However, you were stationary at the door.

“Wife?” he scoffed, coughing a bit. He tried to sit up, but you put on your act, walking up to his bedside.

“Don't move,” you spoke sweetly, eyes pleading. The attractive man just furrowed a brow, his lips curling down in a grimace.

“We’re gonna keep you here for observation tonight, and see how you are doing in the morning to keep an eye on that arm of yours.” The doctor quickly did what he needed to do and left, leaving you alone with….your husband?

The pretty homeless guy spared no second in the questioning. “Who the fuck are you?”

Your eyes widened, looking down at him. He gazed up at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. A tattoo peaked out of his hospital gown, where it met the skin of his neck.

“Listen,” you sat down roughly on the seat next to the bed. He watched you emotionlessly. “I’m sorry—I didn't see you when you walked across the road. I take full responsibility,” you breathed, getting nervous under his gaze.

You were expecting him to scream at you. Well, at least to freak out in some way. It was more alarming that he sat still, completely still, his mouth set in a line.

You blinked.

“I don't care, it’s fine,” he sighed. He showed no emotion, nothing. Not even a twinkle of anger. It was the look in his eye that told you that maybe, just maybe, he ran in front of your car on purpose.

Your eyes widened at the man in front of you—at hongjoong in front of you. He looked distraught tired, brown eyes never leaving your face as you gazed at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly, tilting his head.

“You can leave now,” he huffed, eyes dropping to your open mouth before darting up back to your eyes. “I’m not sure why you're even here in the first place.”

It was your turn to scoff. You crossed your legs in irritation at his lack of care. “Well, maybe because I hit you with my damn car? Maybe I’m worried, maybe I feel horrible, maybe I wanted to see if you were going to be okay.”

Hongjoong just blankly stared. He didn't show any signs of pain, of anger, of anything, really.

“You don't have to worry,” he spoke eventually, turning away from your gaze to look forward. You watched the tattoo dance against his neck as he moved. “I’m fine. This is all fine.”

You didn't know what to say, how to feel. Your head was spinning, all the tiredness washed away. It pained you to see him so empty, so barren, even though he was a stranger. “I feel like I need to do something for you.”

He bit the bottom of his busted lip, as if forgetting. He made a face, the only expression he’s shone. “No need.”

“But I need to,” you leaned forward, closer to him. He turned to you, eyes void. “I’ll pay for your hospital bill, maybe treat you for a dinner, I don't know—”

“Don't,” he hissed. His eyes grew dark, the fire in them rising. You nearly shrunk back in response to his sudden change of attitude. “Listen, just forget about this, about me, all of it. I don't need your money, or your time, or—” he paused, his anger faltering as he looked at you. “Just…just carry on with your life. I’ll only affect it if I stay in it.”

You frowned, wondering what he meant by that. It didn't matter, though. Your guilt was all-consuming—and the fact that he most likely ended up in front of the car on purpose really was overbearing.

After a second of just…staring at one another, you sighed. “One meal.”

He didn't make a face. Didn't change his plain, empty expression. You looked at his starless eyes, his pale skin. You had the need to brighten him up, to heal him. That was your job, after all.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse came in before he could say a word. You immediately straightened, putting on a smile, hoping he would keep up the act even though he had no reason to. You didn't want to be kicked out—not right now.

“How are we feeling, Hongjoong?” the young nurse asked, a smile on her bright face.

“Fine, I guess.” His response was toneless. The nurse still bubbled around, checking his vitals. You watched as he stiffened as the woman touched him.

She looked at you, arching a brow. “Oh? Are you the wife?” she let out a hum of appreciation, then turned her gaze to Hongjoong. “You’re lucky with this one. They said she freaked out when they didn't stabilize your arm and when they wouldn't let her inside the emergency wing! She must really love you to nearly fight someone to get back here.”

Hongjoong, for the little time you knew him, showed more emotion on his face than ever after hearing that. After hearing that someone—you, a stranger nonetheless—was distraught at his expense. His lips flattened in a line, his gaze faltering.

You grabbed his good hand, although bruises were painted across his knuckles. Old, yellowing bruises. You furrowed your brows, subconsciously rubbing a thumb softly over the colored skin. Hongjoong stiffened, eyes widening, at either your caring touch or the pain it could have been causing. Or both.

You felt your stomach tighten as you met eyes with him. The air was stuffy, his eyes were….practically begging for a reason for your attention, as if he’d never had it before.

“I’m lucky to have him,” you sighed, acting but feeling an intense pull to him. Just touching him, although you didn't even know him, felt like a second nature.

Maybe it was the regret, the disparity, of hitting him, of being the reason his life was almost nonexistent. Maybe this feeling was because of the responsibility you felt for doing this to him. It didn't matter if it was true; this tension you were feeling with the stranger was more powerful than what you felt with your ex, the one before that, and the one before.

His face was devout of color besides the bruises that scattered his skin. He looked drained, tired, alone. The nurse just smiled at you two, noticing your bloody scrubs and messy exterior. “You’re a nurse, too?”

You just nodded, lost in the feeling that strummed through your body.

Hongjoong’s hand twitched under your hold, his eyes still wide. Still on you.

“Well, Hongjoong,” the friendly nurse smiled. “Don't let her go, she’s a keeper.”

He tore his gaze from you to look at your hand on his. He swallowed hard, blinking. “Ah, yeah.”

Soon after the nurse left, your hand still rested on his. He sat silently, staring forward at the whiteboard with his name on it.

“I….” you struggled with your words, realizing you were still caressing his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said as you pulled your hand away. His head shot towards you.

After a few moments of silence, he said, “It’s okay.” His tone was soft, defeated.

You wiped your hands on your thighs, sweating buckets. “I, uh, I should go.”

He watched you stand up, but your back was turned, unable to see the wishful glance he offered you.

You stopped in the door frame, turning around to meet his eyes once more.

“It was nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you smiled, watching the glimmer in his eye trying to sparkle. “I wish you well.”

Before you were able to leave the room, he called for you.

“Wait,” he breathed, voice raspy.

You froze.

He took a breath in, exhaling his words. “What’s your name?”

You turned around. “Y/n,” you spoke softly, your chest aching at the little half-smile peeking through his bruised lips.

“y/n,” he repeated, blinking slowly. He didn't say anything else. You didn't either. You smiled at him once more before turning on your heel and walking out of the room, despite the tear in your heart telling you to stay.

And on your way out, you paid his hospital bill in full, not a single regret in your mind about it.

—

After a few days, you continued your days like normal.

Well, as normal as they could be. Your mind wandered to the spikey haired guy at every sparing second, thinking of how his eyes pleaded something unreadable, how his hand twitched underneath yours.

You were at the hospital, reaching the end of your workday in the emergency room. After running in with a few scruffy-looking guys, they reminded you of a certain someone, and you just wanted to tear at your hair. You were certain your odd feelings were due to the fact that you hit him with your car, and nothing else. This will pass.

When the quietness of the night was about to still, a man ran into the emergency room door.

“My friend is hurt,” The man huffed in desperation. You turned to the commotion, seeing a thin, black-haired man holding up another—his friend. But that friend and his familiar spikey hair jolted something inside of you.

You jumped out of your seat behind the nurses’ station and ran to the men, meeting eyes with the taller one. He was just as beautiful as hongjoong was, but his eyes were frantic.

“Sir, what happened?” you questioned, reaching out to the man who was just who you thought. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his eyes squinted in pain, his teeth barred. You carefully steadied him. “What’s hurting you?”

At your voice, Hongjoong opened his eyes wide, looking straight at you. “Y/n?” he grunted out, his breaths strained. He shut his eyes again, and you almost couldn't take the look he had on his face.

“His arm,” the other guy said to you as you called for help, struggling to hold Hongjoong up. “He got into a fight at the bar, some guy decided to mess with his broken arm and, well…..”

You felt a sense of rage fill your body. You wanted to ask Hongjoong why the hell he was at the bar only days after getting hit by a damn car, let alone getting into a fight.

A few other nurses gathered around, all helping to walk him over to a bed. The wing was empty at this time of night—only a few people around. Once again, Hongjoong looked extremely uncomfortable as the nurses touched him.

You held him gently as you set him down on the bed, feeling his fingers curl around your arm.

He held on to you with his good arm—the hand you held only days before. The other nurses fluttered around, setting things up, but Hongjoong just stared up at you.

“Hi,” is all he said, his fingertips etching into your skin.

Your chest tightened, forcing yourself to smile. “We must be fated or something,” you joked, hoping to brighten him up. “That or you just frequent hospitals often.”

He blinked up at you, his eyebrows knitted in pain. “Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” He coughed as he joked.

Your heart skipped a beat, the other nurses and the man that came with him side-eyeing you.

“If you wanted to see me again, there are better ways than this,” you huffed, looking around. “We have to get an X-ray, alright? We’ll give you something to ease your pain meanwhile.”

The air between you two was undeniable. He nodded, emotion sparkling in his eyes, unlike the days before. You wondered if you were the reason for it.

It was probably just the pain.

The other nurses wheeled him to the radiology room, leaving you alone with the man who brought him there.

“You’re the girl that hit him, aren't you?” His voice was soft, gentle. It held no anger.

You turned to him, seeing the caring exterior he showed. “I….yes.”

He tilted his head at you, blinking, as if figuring you out in a single glance. “He’s been looking all over for you. You…paid his bill. He doesn't like handouts.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? I didn't think he ever wanted to see me again. You know, I hit him with my car—that isn't something to take lightly—”

“You paid his bill,” the man repeated, crossing his arms. “He feels indebted to you. Please just make sure he knows not to feel that way.” The man sighed, looking into your eyes. “Despite how he looks, he ruminates over things. He’s sensitive. He’s a mess right now.”

You sighed, too. “I…I paid his bill because I did this to him—”

“No,” he interrupted, eyes serious. “You didn't.”

You knitted your brows. “....What do you mean?”

The man gave you a deadpan stare, as if not wanting to spell it out. He let out a breath he seemed to be holding. “He….he jumped in front of your car on purpose, y/n,” he bit his bottom lip. “So no, you really didn't do it to him. He’s…he’s just been a mess lately—and now that you acted sweet, played a wife, held his hand or whatever, he’s even more of a mess.”

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Hongjoong was back, alert and upright, but the pain still rested on his face. His gaze met yours, and you felt your stomach swirl in a mess of emotions.

You couldn't look him in the eye as you took care of him.

—

Hongjoong was sleeping as your shift was about to end. Before you clocked out, you couldn't help but go to him, check his injury out, check his vitals. His friend—Seonghwa, you learned his name—left about an hour ago.

As if noticing your presence, his eyes slowly peeked open, slightly drugged and delirious from the pain medications.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” he mumbled out, blinking lazily.

“I didn't expect you, either,” you spoke, keeping your emotions in check.

Silence enveloped you as you checked his pulse ox.

“Why’d you do that?”

He turned his head to look at you. “Do what?”

You unclipped the pulse oximeter from his finger. “Why’d you get into that fight? You were really injured.” You wanted to ask the deeper question, the question as to why he stepped in front of your car, but you didn't want to overstep.

He shrugged, wincing. He didn't have an answer. He didn't owe you one, really.

“Just,” you breathed, moving over to the computer to open his chart. “Just don't do anything like this while you’re healing. You need surgery. You need rest.”

He bit his lip, probably stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't.

“Also,” you sighed, looking over at him. “Your friend told me you were looking for me?”

“Yeah, well,” he scoffed. “I really didn't mean to meet you here.”

You let out a chuckle. “Well, here we are.”

He nearly smiled at you, lips curling beautifully. He had a bit of dried blood on his lip, and knowing that you were supposed to be leaving, you still reached for a washcloth. You didn't need to do this—in fact, you were acting against every thought in your head as you leaned forward and brushed the cloth against his lip, watching them part.

His breath hitched as you neared, as you touched him, and once again, his hand twitched, begging to touch you.

Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment too long, meeting his eyes. He stared at you, expression unreadable, lips parted.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

You took a second to study his face before you moved away from him. His eyes followed you as you put space between you and him, dark and beautiful.

You logged out of the portal on the computer. “We’ll move you to your own room before we prep you for surgery,” you said gently, heart aching as you met his gaze once more. “The doctor will tell you more.”

“Will you….be there for the surgery?” he showed no specific feelings as he asked the question.

“I am only part of the emergency department right now,” you shrugged. “I don't think so.”

He pondered for a second before nodding, settling himself back into the comfort of his hospital bed. “Okay,” he spoke softly.

You offered him a solemn look, causing him to stiffen.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” you repeated, confused.

He blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you frowned.

“Like you feel sorry for me.” He looked pained, a deeper type of pain.

You thought about a response to that—you didn't necessarily feel sorry for him, you didn't pity him either. In fact, you just felt an immense feeling of wanting to see him happy, to see him without pain.

Which confused you incredibly, given that he was just a stranger.

“I don't feel sorry for you,” you clarified. “I just don't want you to be in pain.”

“You don't even know me,” he huffed, his expression contorting, and you figured that he didn't even know how he was feeling—what he was feeling. “Why would you even care if I’m hurting?”

You smiled at him. “Because you don't deserve the pain.”

He just stared at you, hazily, emotionally. There was a light in his eyes—a light that wasn't there the other day. “You don't know me well enough to know that.”

The air grew cold; you had nothing left to say. You wished he realized that he didn't have to suffer like this.

“Goodnight, Hongjoong,” you hummed, walking away, feeling his stare burn into your back.

—

The next day, you found yourself drawn to the bed Hongjoong was in yesterday. It was empty, with him now in a room of his own in another part of the hospital.

You typed away at your computer as your colleague, Yeosang, came up to you.

“Hey,” he leaned over the counter of the nurses’ station. “There's a guy asking for you.”

Yeosang, although very young, was a surgical resident in orthopedics. He was super smart, super sexy, super everything. You went to school together, spending lots of time in the library and everywhere else together.

“Who?” you mumbled without looking up.

“He’s a patient I’m prepping for an open reduction surgery, but he’s having a hard time letting anyone touch him. Says he only needs you or something.”

You looked up, hands freezing on your keyboard. Hongjoong. “He won't let anyone touch him?”

Yeosang sighed, propping his head up on his palm as he leaned on the counter. “We had to give him more pain medication, and it made him a bit….difficult. I suspect he has some sort of trauma.”

You frowned. “And why is he asking for me?”

Yeosang gave you a knowing look. “I don't know. He kept saying your name, saying he needed you.”

You tried to avoid the rush of blood to your cheeks. “I don't even know him.”

“Yeah, about that….” Yeosang looked a bit confused, a smile peeking through his lips. “He keeps calling you his wife.”

Oh, dear god. “How drugged is he?” you huffed, looking defeated.

Yeosang laughed. “I kept telling him that you weren't his wife, and he got super mad at me. He said only his wife can touch him. I really need him to stop this so I can get him into pre-op,” The surgeon sighed, giving you a pleading glance. “I’ll ask the attending if you can scrub in—”

“I’m an ER nurse,” you raised a brow. “I have other duties, Yeosang.”

“Y/n, please,” Yeosang pleaded, “ignore the rules or whatever. Can you just come and help me so we can get him into surgery?”

Your mind wandered to the fact that Hongjoong was having a hard time. Sure, he was delirious off of his meds and pain, but knowing that he was struggling with touch, a part of you crumbled.

So you followed Yeosang—after getting approved by the charge nurse, and went up to the third floor.

As you neared the room, you let Yeosang enter first.

“Mr. Kim, I have Nurse y/n here for you.”

There Hongjoong was, his eyes frantic, his breathing rushed. He was anxious, a mess. The nurses tried to ease him, and relax him, but he wasn't having it. That is, until he saw you in the doorway.

“y/n,” he breathed, as if he knew you forever. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief.

“Hi, Hongjoong,” you spoke softly, walking slowly near him. You sat in the chair next to his bed, scooting closer as the room emptied, Yeosang being the only other presence. “I heard you were asking for me.”

He blinked, his eyes lined with worry, with anxiety. For someone who looks so tough, he looks like a completely different person.

He didn't speak; he just looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression all over the place. You took a glance at Yeosang, who was observing you before you reached for Hongjoong's hand just like before.

The bruises were faded now, only old scars left on his skin. A tattoo trailed the skin of his arm. You went to rub his knuckles, but Hongjoong gripped your hand tightly.

You met his frantic gaze. No words were spoken. He just pleaded with his touch, his eyes. You knew he was scared.

“It's okay,” you hummed, fighting the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear. “It's a simple surgery. You will be just fine.”

He mumbled something, but you weren't able to catch it. Yeosang stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, the other nurses peering over his shoulder from the hall. Hongjoong’s gaze moved to the door, seeing everyone watching him.

And you realized that, more than being anxious, he was embarrassed, too.

You looked to Yeosang, giving him a desperate look, a silent cry for him to leave and to get those damn nosy bitches out, too. He complied, and they were alone once more.

“It’s alright,” you hummed, and this time, you did reach out to his face, gliding a gentle hand across his cheek. Without thinking, he leaned into your touch, craving it, longing for it, as if you were really his wife. “They’re gone now.”

His eyes were droopy, his lips downturned. He looked tough, someone with a rough exterior, but now, he was crumbling. He was alone. Alone to the point that he called for you, basically a stranger to him.

The moment could have lasted forever. His eyes bled into yours, yours into his, your hand on his cheek drawing circles into his skin. He took in a breath, and nodded.

“Will you let them take care of you?” you asked him gently.

He hesitated. You also did, as you realized that he leaned into your touch rather than avoiding it. That he felt comfortable with you—the one who hurt him. In his eyes, though, he didn't see it that way.

Your hand stilled on his cheek, his worried eyes lighting up a little. You didn't even realize that his good hand—the hand that you were holding just a minute before, was now resting on top of your hand that was on his cheek. He gripped it, his medical haze confusing him, confusing you.

You froze, your eyes wide. You allowed his fingers to interlock yours, having him hold your hand to his face as he shut his eyes. He was vulnerable. Human. Although he looked tough, looked troubled, he was just a person under all that trouble. Just a normal guy with normal feelings, normal fears.

And you were indebted to each other. You for hitting him, him for his gratefulness of your care.

“I’ll be there with you,” you murmured, knowing that Yeosang was still outside the room, close enough to hear, close enough to see. “I’ll be in the room while they’re operating.”

He nodded, his grip loosening slightly, but he still didn't release your hand.

“I’ll look after you,” you offered, and his eyes met yours once more.

He slowly let go of your hand, allowing you to move back. You looked at Yeosang through the window, giving him a curt nod for him to come back in.

Hongjoong let the other nurses touch him, but not without a grimace on his face. Yeosang’s words swirled around your mind; I suspect he has some sort of trauma.

Trauma. Trauma that didn't quite reach you—your touch. He allowed it, actually, he wanted it. You wondered what made him okay with yours. Why he needed you when you were the one to do this to him.

Eventually, Hongjoong entered the operating room, knocked out by anesthesia, but not without you holding his hand, making him childlike, making him….a normal human being.

—

After the surgery, Hongjoong sat in his bed even more dazed than before. Before the daze wore off, he kept calling you his wife, causing confusion to stir around the hospital.

As you left Hongjoong’s room to go back to the ER, Yeosang followed. “What’s this about?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

You walked faster.

“I mean, why does that guy keep calling you his wife?” Yeosang’s shoulder bumped into yours accidentally as you turned a corner. “And why are you the only one who can touch him? Why did you—”

You stopped suddenly. “Why did I what?”

Yeosang let out a breath. “Why did you….touch him like that? As far as I know, you….you aren't married.”

“I’m not married, you’re right,” you nodded, confused by why you touched him like that, too. Confused as to why he looked so relaxed with your touch rather than freaking out. “And…let’s just say we have met each other before. I did that to calm him down.”

You continued walking towards the elevator, Yeosang following still. “Okay, but you still didn't answer my question about why he keeps calling you his wife.” you pressed the down button and waited.

“Is that really any of your business?”

“Just a little—”

“Why?” you interrupted, turning towards him, arms crossed. “Why does it matter to you?”

You didn't mean to sound rude, you and Yeosang were good friends for a while. You've never dated, but you’ve flirted with each other occasionally. You never thought much of it other than being a little playful.

But the look on Yeosang’s face caused you to pause your racing thoughts. “Because I thought we…we had something going on?”

You blinked. “Do we?”

“I mean,” Yeo scoffed. “With the way you were looking at him, I don't think I have a chance.”

The elevator dinged, doors opening. You paused for a second before entering, Yeosang following.

It was quiet before the doors closed.

“I didn't think I looked at him any differently than anyone else,” you admitted honestly, causing Yeosang to look over at you.

He gave you a smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You feel something for him, huh?”

You frowned, leaning back against the wall. “I barely know him. I only…” you sighed. “I only met him twice.”

“But yet, you are the only one he allows to touch him,” Yeosang breathed as the elevator dinged on the first floor.

“That’s something to think about.”

—

Hongjoong was back to his normal self when you went to check on him in the evening; the anesthesia and meds had worn off. His arm was bandaged up and held in a sling, his eyes empty once more.

You hesitated on entering, but his stare moved to you.

For a second, you saw regret, and embarrassment, cross his face before melting back into a void stare.

You entered, but he didn't look at you. He avoided your gaze, too. Very unlike his earlier, medical high self.

You took his blood pressure, fingertips gently wrapping around his tattooed bicep as you put the cuff on. He didn't say anything, didn't even spare a passing glance. He just kept looking forward.

“119 over 79,” you mumbled out, letting loose of the cuff.

He nodded, coughing a bit. He didn't say anything, though.

“Dr. Kang told me that you’re cleared to be discharged,” you tried to start a conversation, but things just felt too awkward. You wrote down his vitals in his chart. “That’s good. Can I call anyone to pick you up? Maybe the guy that was here—”

“No,” he said quietly, looking down at his arm. “There is no one to call.”

“You need someone to help you. You just had surgery—”

“I have no one, y/n,” he hissed, finally looking at you. “Not like that’s any of your business, anyway.”

You didn't know what to say, so you just stared at him with confusion. He was putting his walls up.

“I just….don't want you to suffer alone,” you admitted.

“Why?” he let out a laugh, but it wasn't humorous. “I don't need your worry.”

“Okay,” you breathed, defeated. There was no point; he was just a stranger, just a man. Although, this feeling you had about him was overwhelming. And when you touched him, you wanted to hold him longer. Wanted him to feel better.

You left the room without a glance toward him and carried on the rest of your day as best you could.

—

Hongjoong was sitting on the bench outside the hospital entrance, head low, as if sleeping.

You knew you should keep walking. You shouldn't give him any attention, any time of day. But your chest ached as you got closer and closer, and as you reached him, you couldn't bear to walk past him.

“Why are you still here?” you asked him, keeping a good amount of distance away from him.

At your voice, he looked up quickly, as if waiting for you despite his nastiness earlier.

He took a second to respond. “I, uh, I’m just sitting here.”

You looked him over. His black hair was no longer styled spikey, it laid flat across his forehead softly. His tattoos were on full display in the black t-shirt he wore.

“You don't have anywhere to go,” you meant to ask it like a question, but it came out more like a declaration. He furrowed his brows at your words but didn't deny it.

“I’m fine, I’ll figure it out,” he sniffed, the cold air dancing around him. He didn't even have a coat.

Without thinking, you spoke quickly. “Come with me.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because,” you huffed, taking a step closer to him. “I owe you.”

“For what?” he spat out, probably not intending to sound rude.

You gave him an honest look, and his eyes softened. “Did you just forget that I hit you with my car? That I broke your arm?”

He just sat there, blinking slowly. “You don't owe me anything, y/n.”

You reached your hand out. His own hand twitched. “Come with me.”

After a long moment of just staring at your outstretched hand, he let his hand find yours, standing up at his full height. You got a good look at his face, his eyes, his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful.

You held his hand as you walked to your car, feeling a flutter of emotion in the pit of your stomach.

When you got to the car, you helped him into the passenger seat, despite his aggravated digs at you. You leaned over him, buckling his seatbelt, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.

You paused, frozen, inches away from his lips.

He swallowed hard, eyes glancing down at your lips. He didn't make a move. You didn't, either.

You pulled away, forcing yourself to get out of his personal space to shut the door. You saw him tilt back his head and take a deep breath before you got to the driver's seat.

As you drove, you asked random questions like a goddamn idiot.

“So, uh,” you swallowed, looking over at him for a second. “What do you do for a living?”

What kind of damn question is that?

“I’m a musician,” he mumbled, looking out the window. “Kind of.”

“Ah,” you nodded, thinking of what to say next. Now you were thinking way too much into things. “What do you play?”

He looked down at his arm, sighing. “Well, I played the guitar, piano, some other things. I don't think I’ll be picking anything up for a while.”

“You will, eventually,” you tried to encourage him, but he just kept his gaze even out the window. You arrived at your apartment, pulled into the parking lot, and shut off the car. “We’re here.”

He nodded, watching you get out of the car. You opened his door, and with slight hesitation, you leaned over him again to unbuckle his seatbelt, but before you could, he stopped you with his good arm.

You paused, inches from his face, meeting his eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered quietly. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”

“You don't have to be sorry,” you whispered, feeling an immense pull to him, to his lips.

You ignored the urge and unbuckled the belt, but you didn't back away. Not like you could, anyway, with Hongjoong’s grip on your arm tightening.

The belt slowly slipped off of him.

He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dancing with emotion. “I was just… embarrassed. And drugged, and uh, well,” he paused, thinking. “Mostly embarrassed. I can't believe I freaked out over a little surgery. That’s so lame—”

“No, it's not,” you hummed softly, delicately. “It's a normal fear.”

He smiled. Actually smiled. From the little time you knew him, you haven't seen a genuine smile on his face. Or any sort of light, really.

“Thanks, uh,” he sniffed. “Thanks again. For looking after me.” his eyes fell to your lips. “You don't even know me, and you still…” he trailed off.

You realized that you were inhaling the air he was exhaling, that you were eye to eye, almost nose to nose. His breaths were shaky, labored, and tired.

“I would want someone to look after me in the same way,” You whispered. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” he tilted his head upward, leaning against the headrest, warm, brown eyes on full display.

“Mhm,” you swallowed.

His eyes glimmered. He didn't have anything to say, and you didn't either. Realizing that you were shrinking the space ever so slowly, you took the opportunity to back away from the musician. He let go of your arm, but not without a little tug on it beforehand.

You cleared your throat as he got out of the car. You shut the door for him, and you walked together—slowly, till you reached your apartment door.

When you entered, hongjoong strayed back behind the door, not entering. You turned to face him, eyebrow raised.

“Come in,” you beckoned, and with one more second of hesitation, he followed you in, shutting the door behind him.

He surveyed the place, his eyes finding the piano that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes danced as if surprised to see it there.

The air was thick. The room was quiet. You tossed off your shoes with ease, noticing his struggle with his own, so you bent down the help him. He didn't pull away, didn't speak. He just let you take care of it—of him.

“I don't mean to be a bother,” he mumbled as you untied his shoe. “But I’d really like to shower.”

You glanced up at him. “Oh,” you nodded, taking off his shoe before standing up. “Sure. it’s the first door down the hall.”

He didn't make any move. He stood, a confused, shy look resting on his face.

And then you realized.

He had no clothes to change into. Nothing. He also only had one working arm, and one covered in material that couldn't get wet.

“I can help you,” you trailed off, trying not to read too much into his stare.

“If you comfortable with that.”

—

In the bathroom, Hongjoong stood anxiously as you waited for the water to warm up. It took a second, and most of the time, the hot water only lasted so long.

You figured a shower would be too difficult to help him with without seeing too much. You opted for a warm bath, filling the water up once it got hot enough. You made sure to add some suds to it, so he wasn't too uncomfortable.

When you turned around to face him, his eyes were cloudy, his lips in a line.

“Do you….not like baths?” you mumbled, scratching your head. “I probably should've asked you before I—”

“It’s not that.” His eyes met yours, switching his weight onto his other leg.

You didn't pry, knowing he was just probably embarrassed that he needed help for something as trivial as a bath.

Walking toward him, he backed up into the door. You nearly smirked but maintained your cool as you grabbed the plastic bag off the sink counter. “I just have to wrap your cast in this. It'll just be a second. You might want to take your shirt off before I….”

He blinked, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“I don't think you normally bathe in clothes,” you murmured slyly, tilting your head. “Unless you like that.”

He didn't move. His body was as stiff as a board, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Just take your shirt off, dammit, or I’ll do it for you.”

You saw his expression change the minute the words left your mouth.

His good hand found the hem of his t-shirt, hesitating to take it off. You realized that he probably did need your help with taking it off, but with the look in his eye, you weren't sure what would happen if you got any closer to him.

But you moved closer, anyway, setting the plastic bag back onto the counter. His back was nearly up against the wooden door, his breath hitching as your fingertips gently pulled at the fabric.

“Why are you….so okay with this?” he breathed before you could pull the shirt up.

You met his gaze, his eyes unreadable. Almost as if he didn't know what he was feeling, either.

“I told you already,” you shrugged, smiling.

He blinked, his eyes red with emotion, begging to send a flood down his cheeks. “I don't deserve your help.”

“You do, though.” Ever so slowly, you began to pull his shirt, soft, carved abs appearing as you moved it up. “Because you know, you don't have to suffer alone.”

“Who said I was suffering?” he croaked out, his eyes, his tone, spilling his guts out on the floor for her to see.

You didn't say anything. You just slowly tugged the black t-shirt over his casted arm, watching him wince slightly. Then, he stood, half-naked, emotionally charged in front of you. He was no longer a stranger. No longer someone that you classified as a patient, either.

His eyes spoke volumes, his good hand twitching at his side. You looked at it, and took it in your own.

“Come on,” you nodded behind you. “I’ll help.”

He looked like he was ready to cry. Ready to break down. He didn't, though, and you walked him over to the bath. You unbuttoned his jeans, but turned around as he stepped out of them and into the tub.

The soap covered his lower body, all that was on display was his torso, his slim shoulders, the tattoos inked on his tanned skin. He didn't break away from your gaze as you began to wash him.

“I feel….something I shouldn't be feeling,” he swallowed, his voice raspy, tender, defeated.

“And what’s that?” you wondered before running your hands through his silky hair, coating the strands in your lavender shampoo.

He shut his eyes, sighing. “I don't know what it is, but what I do know is, for some reason, your touch is very calming when everyone else’s hurts me.”

You paused, hands still tangled in his locks, but he opened his eyes.

A confession of feelings—worth more than any other cliche words. He stared up at you, heart on his sleeve, confusion and fear and everything in between dancing around his eyes.

“For the first time,” he whispered, the only sounds in the room being your shaky breathing and the quiet trickle of water from the spigot. “I feel…comfortable being touched. I….need it.”

His lips parted, his hair dripping wet, your hands still frozen within the strands. You didn't know how to respond, didn't know exactly how you felt, either. But you also knew one thing, and it became ever so apparent as his hand slowly reached your cheek, wet fingertips leaving a trail of soap across your skin.

You blinked slowly.

Softly, gently, you moved forward, over the tub, and brushed your lips against his. His eyes remained open from shock, but his lips moved slowly along with yours.

You pulled away, but didn't go too far, resting your forehead against his. His breaths tickled your skin, sending a blush to your cheeks.

Emotions are complex. You didn't know exactly why you kissed him. Why you needed to. Why you wanted to do it again. But what you did know was that you liked how his touch felt, liked the little smile that appeared as you kissed him, liked how he gently pulled you back into another kiss.

You took in his breath as you kissed once more, this time a bit more urgent. Your hands gripped his soapy hair, his hand rested softly on your cheek, his thumb on the corner of your lips, his fingers tickling the lobe of your ear.

He kissed you like he knew you forever. Like he knew just how you liked it. You found your hand trailing down his tattooed neck, fingers dancing on the ink, his dewy skin, his tongue in your mouth.

You parted once more, so close, breaths tangling, fingers scrunching. His breath was hot against your face, his dark eyes pleading.

You’d so get on top of him in that damn tub. You wanted to, so bad. But you remembered that his arm was hurt, that you were the one that did it, and you nearly stood up to move away before he gripped you by the arm.

“Don't go,” he breathed hazily.

So you didn't. You washed him, this time, knowing that you were begging to end this bath and fuck him silly till the sunrise. Till the warm, glow of the burning star fluttered through your blinds. And with that damn look on his face, you knew he was thinking about it, too.

You helped him out of the bath, not turning around this time. He stood slowly, body on full display, even more tattoos, even more scars covering the skin you didn't get to see.

You sheepishly handed him a towel. He took it, but didn't use it to cover himself up.

“You’re not dating that damn doctor, are you?” he spoke, his tone serious, deep. Sensuous.

You breathed out, “No.”

He grinned, cheshire-like. “Good.”

You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off. He wanted to claw at your skin like some goddamn animal, his expression pained in all of the right ways.

You needed air. God, this bathroom was stuffy.

Turning on your heel, you forced yourself to walk out of the damn room, because if you didn't, Hongjoong would become something far more stranger than, well, a stranger to you.

But he had other plans. More impulsive plans.

He followed you out of the bathroom and into your main living space. He gripped your hand, his fingertips gently pressing into your skin. When you turned to face him, he was dripping wet onto the lightwash wood floor, beads of water collecting on the ends of his hair. His eyes were wide, begging you for something, anything.

So you gave up on your act.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?” you wheezed, smiling as his eyes widened even more. “Is that what you want?”

You stepped closer to him at his silence, and arched your body against his bare torso, feeling the hardness of him press your thigh, his lips begging to meet yours once more.

You teased him, lifting your mouth to his, letting out a sigh. He shivered as your hands felt up his bare skin, and your hot breath tickled his face.

He nearly growled, his good arm wrapping around your waist swiftly, tugging your body towards him completely, holding you here as his mouth crashed to yours. His broken arm begged to touch you, too, and without thinking, he moved it quickly. He hissed in pain, his arm definitely hurting him, but he didn't care as much as you did. You tried to part from his lips, to ask him if he was okay, but he bit hard down on your lip to keep you from speaking.

You moaned while he stuck his tongue down your throat, his hand now tearing at your top, your waistband. You hurriedly tore off your clothes for him, giving him no second to stare at your body before tossing yourself onto him again. He grunted, moaning into your mouth, the vibrations tickling every part of you. He pushed you back, nearly tripping over the throw rug, the coffee table, until your back slammed into the keyboard of your piano.

The keys slammed as your ass hit them roughly, the musician making music without even intending to. His hips bucked into yours, your core right where he needed it, his dick pulsing, aching to be inside you. You lifted your hips, grinding them against his cock, gaining pleasure in his expression.

He nearly whined as you bit his ear lobe, his hips shifting into you, begging for you.

“Can I get inside you?” he moaned, eyes frantic. “I need you, fuck, I need it bad.”

In more ways than one, he needed you, but now, he needed your body. Needed your touch, your moans. You obliged, your body already wet enough for him to enter. You lined up, and without a second to waste, he slowly moved into you, causing you to toss your head back at the feeling. His eyes rolled back; a whine left his pretty pink lips, his chest heaved in pleasure.

His head dipped to suck your nipple, tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of your breast. You huffed, trying so hard to breathe. He let out moans that did something dangerous to your body, to your mind. You moaned along with him as his hips snapped.

“Oh, god,” he whimpered, his tone light, airy. Water dripped onto the soft skin of his chest from his hair. “You feel so good.”

You smiled, tearing your hands up his back as the piano cried along with you. The keys clicked, moaning from the weight above them. The music filled the room, tangled within your breaths, your sweat. You gripped the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his wet, dripping hair, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter by the minute.

Your walls caved into him, his cock pulsing inside you. He looked into your eyes for a long moment as he moved, his black hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth open in gratification. He kissed you, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, tugging on it. He liked to bite.

You felt euphoria reach you before you knew it, and you cried out, gripping his hair, pulling it as he fucked you. His face pained, his teeth barred, his eyes shut tight. Just his expression—his appearance—could've made you come on the spot.

You felt tingles in your fingers, and your toes, and saw stars in your vision. Black spots fluttered, your heart rate probably much higher than it should be. You didn't care if you died right here, right now. It didn't matter. Nope. This was bliss. So much better than that damn vibrator.

You felt like you were on fire—no, more like a falling, burning star crashing to earth. Your stomach ached at his pressure, your hips aching, your head pounding. You came onto him with haste as your vision blurred, tearing into his shoulder blades, leaving little marks on his skin. At your actions, you witnessed the look of utter satisfaction on the pretty boy’s face, his breaths quickening, shallowing. He let out a whine, just as musical as the keys underneath you.

Before he could come, he pulled out, cumming all over your breasts, your stomach. You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

He stared at you, eyes low, lips swollen and red. So fuckable, so delicious.

He looked at how he painted you, smirking a bit to himself. He was so full of life, full of emotion. “Let me go grab that towel,” he breathed, his voice crackling a bit. You watched in enjoyment when he walked away from you, watching his ass, his legs, the tattoos move with him.

He returned with the towel, wiping you gently as if he hadn't just made you nearly black out. You gazed at him, not sure what you were feeling, how you were feeling. You could do it all night with him, with this guy who was a stranger only a couple of days before. It wasn't too often that you acted on your desires, but there was no possible way you were supposed to avoid this, avoid him.

When he was done, when you were clean, he set the towel down on the floor, but his eyes didn't leave you.

“What?” you hummed.

“Just,” he breathed, smiling. “That was really good.”

“I hope so,” you chuckled the feeling of the room lightening, almost in a playful way. “I hope this wasn't your goal all along—you really freaked me out when I hit you.”

He looked down as you jumped off the piano. “Uh, yeah. I bet I did.”

You moved to him, gently reaching to hold his cheeks for him to look at you. “I got you now, huh? No more running in front of cars, unless it's mine. I’ll be prepared next time.”

His eyes widened as if he was shocked by your words. That you knew he did it on purpose. He didn't deny it. He just leaned into your touch, eyes closing tight in comfort.

“Like I said,” you started, giving his lips a little peck. “I’ll look after you, if you’ll allow it.”

He took in a deep breath, opening his eyes, meeting your sincere gaze. His lips curved up. “I’ll look after you, too.”

You smiled along with him. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, embracing him, feeling even more intimate than sex. He let out a shaky breath, as if finally realizing he wasn't alone, didn't have to be. That he deserved a caring touch, a longing touch, a needy touch. That he could actually have something to himself.

You didn't know what you were to each other, and it really didn't matter. There was no need to label it so specifically. You could be his rock, his personal nurse, the person to stitch him up when he gets hurt. The one he could confide in, have sex with, whatever he needed. Whatever you needed.

So when he kissed the top of your head while you hugged him, you tightened your arms just a little, holding onto him as long as he’ll let you.

You’ll look after each other.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong fic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hospital au #enemies to lovers

1K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 3 months

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ take calm, deep breaths, you'll be fine after that ❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❆ - angst ✮ - smut ❀ - fluff

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦﹒﹒𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺﹒◌﹒

── ୨୧ !⠀the right love for me | part 2 [ ❆❀ ]

where Elena and Matt grew up together, fell in love as kids but realized too late. Will there be any hope for them?

── ୨୧ !⠀sleepy [ ❀ ]

where Matt had a busy day and just wants to sleep in his lover arms.

── ୨୧ !⠀destructive home [ ❆❀ ]

where Matt helps Y/N get through an anxiety attack.

── ୨୧ !⠀fight for you [ ❀ ]

where Y/N gets into a fight because of Matt.

── ୨୧ !⠀sleeping inside her | part 2 [ ✮ ]

where Y/N wants to be impossibly close to Matt.

── ୨୧ !⠀heaven and back [ ✮ ]

where Matt eat Y/N's pussy in the backseat of his car.

── ୨୧ !⠀truth or eat [ ❀ ]

where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.

── ୨୧ !⠀grwm with boyfriend's clothes [ ❀ ]

where Y/N is a fashion influencer and makes a GRWM only with her boyfriend's, Matt, clothes.

── ୨୧ !⠀galaxy girl [ ❀ ]

where Matt has a crush on Y/N, an influencer extremely well-known in the USA, but when she goes to the Zach Sang Show, Matt discovers that she also has a crush on him. When the two meet at a party, how will Matt react?

── ୨୧ !⠀lovestruck boy [ ❀ ]

where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.

── ୨୧ !⠀daddy's favorite girl [ ❀ ]

where Matt realizes that his daughter, Eloise, has him tied up in her pinkie.

── ୨୧ !⠀medium girl [ ❀❆ ]

where Y/N is a medium and Matt's girlfriend. She is invited to participate in the collab between Sam & Colby and the Sturniolo Triplets but ends up being targeted by ghosts all night.

── ୨୧ !⠀saudade [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Matt have a long-distance relationship. After months of not seeing each other, Y/N decides to surprise Matt in LA.

── ୨୧ !⠀there's someone inside my head [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N is targeted by a certain ghost during the filming of the Sam and Colby ft. Sturniolo Triplets video.

── ୨୧ !⠀tiktok trends | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 [ ❀ ]

4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.

── ୨୧ !⠀profane [ ✮ ]

where during scenes, all the control Y/N has over her life and body is completely given away to Matt's big and perfect hands.

── ୨୧ !⠀let's trade shoes [ ❀ ]

where Y/N feels pain in her feet from wearing high heels for hours, and Matt gives her his sneakers to wear.

── ୨୧ !⠀disgusting food roulette [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.

── ୨୧ !⠀fainting spells [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N has severe low blood pressure, but seems to forget about it when getting up too quickly, causing her to pass out, but her boyfriend, Matt, is there to help her come back.

── ୨୧ !⠀atelophobia [ ❀❆ ]

where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of the some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.

── ୨୧ !⠀opposite [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Matt are polar opposites.

── ୨୧ !⠀kiss cam [ ❀ ]

where Y/N, the triplets and Justin are present at the Bruins game, and the Kiss Cam chooses Matt and Y/N to share a kiss.

── ୨୧ !⠀left alone | part 2 [ ❆❀✮ ]

where, after a difficult week, Matt takes out all his stress on Y/N, causing great damage to their relationship.

── ୨୧ !⠀8 minutes of cute moments [ ❀ ]

where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.

── ୨୧ !⠀I like your face [ ❀ ]

where Y/N has had a crush on Matt for years but hid her feelings out of fear. She just didn't expect Matt to feel the same way about her.

── ୨୧ !⠀you're mine [ ❀ ]

where Y/N is a ray of sunshine, and Matt is her dose of grumpness.

── ୨୧ !⠀sick boy [ ❆❀ ]

where Matt wakes up with the flu, but Y/N is there to take care of him.

── ୨୧ !⠀long live [ ❆❀ ]

where the Cut The Camera Podcast comes to an end and Matt feels emotional about it, but Y/N is there to comfort him.

── ୨୧ !⠀petals of death | part 2 [ ❆❀ ]

the Hanahaki Disease is a rare illness where the patient throws up and coughs flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, it's necessary that the one they're in love with fall in love with them too. Or to fall in love with somebody else.

── ୨୧ !⠀quality time [ ❀ ]

where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.

── ୨୧ !⠀matilda [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N remembers her traumatic past, but Matt is there to support her and help her heal the wounds through a day on the beach and playing with toys while recording a video.

── ୨୧ !⠀lavender haze [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N drowns amidst so much criticism and negative comments from the media regarding her relationship, but Matt is right by her side to bring her back to the surface and surround her in a lavender haze.

── ୨୧ !⠀speak now [ ❆❀ ]

where it's Y/N's wedding day, but Matt isn't the groom. During the ceremony, an act of impulse on the boy's part changes the fate of everything.

── ୨୧ !⠀coziness, love, and other things [ ❀ ]

where Y/N's cozy cottage becomes a refuge for Matt, but it's not just the house that encloses him, but who's inside; OR, where Matt and Y/N are in love, but afraid to confess. Until one day.

── ୨୧ !⠀a day to forget [ ❆❀ ]

where, in a day full of downs, Y/N faces a series of challenges at work that culminate in an anxiety attack in the car on the way home, but Matt is by her side to bring her back.

── ୨୧ !⠀love in the lunchbox [ ❀ ]

where it's part of Matt's routine to prepare breakfast and pack his girlfriend's lunchbox every day.

── ୨୧ !⠀4 times that she made him smile [ ❀❆ ]

where Y/N is the only person who can make Matt smile genuinely; OR 4 times that Y/N made Matt smile.

── ୨୧ !⠀you belong with me [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.

── ୨୧ !⠀roslyn [ ❀ ]

where a storm is happening and Y/N is afraid of thunder, making her seek comfort in her best friend's brother arms, Matt.

── ୨୧ !⠀anxiety on tour [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N is just another fan at one of the Let's Trip Tour shows, until it comes time for the Meet&Greet. Things get out of hand for Matt, and she ends up being the only one who manages to calm him down.

── ୨୧ !⠀you make loving fun [ ❀ ]

where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

── ୨୧ !⠀wisdom teeth chaos [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N faces the terrifying experience of having four wisdom teeth removed. With her boyfriend, Matt, and his brothers by her side, Y/N goes through moments of anxiety, laughter, and confusion under the influence of anesthesia.

── ୨୧ !⠀hockey drama [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N is a hockey player of the Boston High-school hockey team, and during one of her games, her temper is tested by her opponent while her boyfriend, Matt, is watching.

── ୨୧ !⠀traitor | part 2 [ ❆❀ ]

Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.

── ୨୧ !　not the one for you [ ❆❀ ]

In a seemingly perfect relationship, Y/N and Matt face a silent storm when Y/N, after appearing in a video on Matt's personal channel, is the target of cruel comments that leave her feeling inadequate. Unable to share her insecurities, Y/N distance herself from Matt, wallowing in self-criticism and painful comparisons, until he snaps.

── ୨୧ !　kiss me [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Matt are just friends that act like they’re in a loving relationship.

── ୨୧ !　turning 21 [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N plans a special 21st birthday dinner, but her friends don't show up, leaving her heartbroken. But Matt, while dining nearby, notices her and decides that making her company would be a good idea.

── ୨୧ !　a home for the holidays [ ❆❀ ]

where Y/N, estranged from her parents, hasn’t celebrated holidays with family in years. Until her boyfriend, Matt, invites her to spend Christmas with him and his family in Boston for the first time.

── ୨୧ !　soft launch | instagram [ ❀ ]

where Y/N and Matt have been in a stable relationship hidden from the media for months, until they were forced by it to do a soft launch.

── ୨୧ !　wedding dresses and perfect moments [ ❀ ]

where Y/N, a fashion influencer, records a video trying on wedding dresses, surprising her boyfriend, Matt.

── ୨୧ !　halloween [ ❀ ]

where it's Halloween, and Y/N and Matt go through the fall day together, enjoying their best couple activities.

── ୨୧ !　scars to your beautiful [ ❆❀✮ ]

when things between Matt and Y/N start to heat up for the first time, insecurities about her own stomach and stretch marks make it difficult for Y/N to move forward.

── ୨୧ !　eggs and pregnancy [ ❀ ]

where Matt uses his loss on the egg challenge as an excuse to reveal Y/N's pregnancy to his brothers.

── ୨୧ !　9 months after [ ❀ ]

where Y/N's and Matt's babies are finally born after 9 long months of waiting; OR, where Matt is finally a dad.

── ୨୧ !　you obey me [ ✮ ]

where Matt denies Y/N's orgasm for too long until she snaps.

── ୨୧ !　only good boys deserve it [ ✮ ]

where Matt wasn't a very good boy, and now Y/N has to punish him.

── ୨୧ !　safeword [ ❆❀✮ ]

where Matt comes home angry after a stressful day and takes it out on Y/N, making her use her safeword.

── ୨୧ !　left hand [ ❀✮ ]

where Matt hurt his right wrist during a horse ride for a video, but who said that a wrist guard would hold him back from fucking Y/N with his fingers?

522 notes · View notes

sturnioz · 3 months

Text

warnings. period sex, mentions of blood, matt makes a joke.

authors note. don't like, don't read. thanks !!

☆ . . . "does it still hurt?" matt asks gently, his hand stroking your aching tummy. a deep drown creases his face as a pained whimper escapes you lips, watching as you curl inward, the cramps growing worse, making you unable to respond verbally.

he nibbles down on his bottom lip nervously, his mind replaying an article he had read about periods not so long ago, hoping to find a way to ease your suffering. he remembers a small section discussing a method for relieving period pain, and he hesitantly speaks up.

"i — well — have an idea but, like, i'm not sure how you would feel about it — or how you would take it and i just —"

"i'll do anything to get rid of this pain," you groan, pressing the heating paid to your lower back in a fruitless attempt to find relief. you turn your head, looking up at him with saddened eyes. "what's the idea?"

matt clears this throat, his fingers already plucking the fabric of your shorts. "i read somewhere that, uh, one way to help ease the pain is to — y'know — masturbate or have sex — yeah..."

"sex?" you repeat, blinking at him. matt confirms with a hum and a quick nod of his head, and your eyebrows knit together as you frown. "you don't find that gross?"

"what—no, not at all," matt reassures you, his eyes wide in shock at you thinking that he would find it gross. "i'm, like, down to do it if you are — i could get some towels or — or we could go in the shower or somethin'?"

your heart warms at the thought of matt helping you in a situation like this, appreciating that he would go as far as getting himself bloody to help alleviate your painful cramps and make you feel good.

but a grimace spreads across your face as you feel a pang of embarrassment when you realise he's going to see your naked self in not the most flattering manner, and you almost decline his offer until another sharp cramp causes you to wince and hiss in discomfort.

"maybe a shower would be cleaner." you manage through gritted teeth, the pain nearly knocking the wind out of you.

matt's fingers curl gently around your wrist, guiding you up from the bed and towards the bathroom. he immediately turns on the taps, letting the warm water spill forth from the showerhead.

you begin stripping off your shirt, letting it drop to the floor alongside matt's clothes, which he's already peeling off, leaning on one foot as he slips off his socks.

"matt..." you call out his name nervously and he hums, turning to look at you with the most gentle smile. "i just... its not gonna be a pretty sight and i—"

"hey," he cuts you off, placing his hands on your shoulders. "i don't care — at all. it's just blood, yeah? i'm not going to be grossed out by it or you.. i'm here to help you."

you nod your head, taking his word, and allow him to help you undress. a cold breeze blows between your legs and you make a whine-like noise, pressing your thighs together to keep the warmth.

matt smiles softly, leaning forward to capture your lips in a short, tender kiss, leaving a few more pecks behind before turning to check the temperature of the water.

he helps you step inside the shower once it's warm enough, and he follows closely behind, pressing up against you from behind. the feeling of his teeth nibbling down on your shoulder is enough to have your core throbbing — so desperate and eager to be touched.

you mewl when you feel his hand move down your chest, his thumb flicking over your sensitive nipples before dipping lower, reaching between your legs.

there's a small part of you that wants to recoil back from him, still internally worried about the blood and how gross he may find you — but he's been so reassuring and so committed in helping you with the cramps that you can't help but relax back into his chest, your palm flat against the tiled walls as you feel his fingers swipe through your folds, and you gasp when your feel him rub your clit.

"oh!" you breathe out shakily reaching down to grab at his wrist. "can you — ah — can you just fuck me instead? please..."

matt hums in response, and he pulls his fingers away from your clit to turn you around, pressing your back against the shower wall and you hiss at the slight sting of the cold tiles, eliciting a quiet apology from him.

your hands reach up to hold his shoulders and matt's head dips low as his fingers wrap around his cock, biting his plush bottom lip as he nudges the tip through your slit.

"it's — it's like makeshift lube or somethin'." matt jokes to himself a giggle and you roll your eyes, digging your nails into his shoulders in warning and he laughs. "okay — okay. sorry. m'bad."

you dismiss his apology with a shake of your head, and he presses his lips to your temple just as he pushes himself slowly inside of you. you tense up, a strained noise ripping from the back of your throat as you grasp him tightly, shocked at how easily he slips inside.

"shit... you're fuckin' tight," matt curses under his breath as he keeps pushing his cock within your spongy walls. you moan softly, the feeling of almost being full is enough to make you feel a little dizzy, and you lean your head back against the tiled wall as you pant. "oh — oh fuck. you feel good, sweetheart... just — just keep suckin' me in like that — shiiit. that's it... good girl. doin' so fuckin' good f'me."

"matt, please..." you beg, and you raise your leg to hook it around his hip, pressing your heel into his lower back to push him further into you, a shiver creeping down your spine as he bottoms out with his body flush against yours. "please.. fuck me. give me more."

"more?" matt smiles as his one hand grips your raise leg while the other hooks under the one that's keeping you upright before lifting you up, holding the majority of your weight as he keeps you against the wall.

your lashes brush against your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of him nestled so deep, stretching your pussy out to fit snug around him.

matt turns his head, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as you tighten both legs around his waist, "hold on tight, sweetheart. i'll make you feel good."

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

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chaithetics · 4 months

Text

Sweeter Than Honey

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f (afab) plus size reader Prompt: Smutty fic w/afab bi plus size reader & Matt Murdock. The smuttier the better! Word count: 4.2K Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smutty-smut-smut! I think this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Language warning, I think! No physical description other than reader being plus size. One reference to reader being bi. Established relationship. Not proof or beta read. I A/N: I'm so excited to share the 2nd Fics for Palestine fic (you can learn more at that link)!!! A massive thank you to @thatesqcrush for donating to PAL Humanity! I really appreciate it, and hope you enjoy it! I hope everyone else enjoys this Matt fic! I did write half of this loopy on pain meds and fuelled by sleep deprivation so be kind lol! I've had a pretty cursed week. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated! 🫶 P.S. Keep doing what you can to support Palestine! It's all important, whether it's donating, contacting your local and relevant political reps, sharing and engaging with resources and posts, showing up to local events etc. Here is a post I made with free things to do from home to help Palestine. Much love 🖤❤️🤍💚 Gif by @cellophaine

The city that never sleeps at night, is still humming with life. That’s all out of focus as you’re sprawled out in bed, enjoying the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows of Hell’s Kitchen, it’s lulled you in and out of sleep throughout the evening. That and the body of the devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt and you had spent the afternoon inside, making love, cuddling up on the sofa watching some television and listening to the audio description voiceovers. After an early dinner of takeaways that had been delivered to the apartment’s doorstep and possibly another orgasm or two, Matt had then left for a patrol.

The rest of your evening had passed pretty quickly with mindless activities and chores and now you were in bed. Dozing in and out of sleep, you’re well aware that your sleep wouldn’t be unbroken until you had the warmth pressed against you that only Matt’s body could provide. There was something about how it felt to have his strong arms around you to be his little spoon and how he’d press kisses against your neck and shoulders as he’d start to enter and then later on leave sleep.

It wasn’t long after your next yawn and long blink that you heard the telltale signs of Matt’s body quietly but still audibly entering the apartment. It was impressive, he was a fox of a man but he also moved in such a fox-like manner, it was sneaky, elegant, and careful, you’re sure that to those against him, it felt sly and quick too.

You blink a few more times before you see his figure come into the bedroom, he’s walking fine, which kind of surprises you, his senses are spectacular but he was never gifted with super healing or anything, he had to suffer and bear the pain just like everyone else. You immediately smile as you see him come in. He quickly strips off of his vigilante gear and shoves it away and then walks to the bed.

He crawls on the bed until he’s close to you, he plants a kiss on your plump upper arm and then starts to trace his fingers along it, trying to feel any freckles or moles that he maybe has missed a previous night and is yet to commit to his memory. It’s something that might’ve made you feel a tad insecure years ago, once upon a time but now, you just take it for the peaceful moment of love that it is. “How was it? You don’t look like a wounded warrior tonight.” You tilt your head slightly to look at him, you can’t help the feeling of contentment as you move a hand of yours to run through the soft and now sweaty hair on his head.

“Quiet. Barely petty even.” He says as he moves so he’s leaning more on top of you, resting his chin on your chest. You hum in response, it’s a bit surprising but you’re not complaining, he’s home earlier which is perfect. It might be hard to believe but sometimes there are even quiet nights in New York, somehow. “You didn’t have any gentlemen or lovely ladies come over to take my place and keep the bed warm while I was gone, did you?” He asks playfully as his fingers feel the soft material of your nightgown as his hand runs along your full hips.

“No, not tonight.” You reply with a small chuckle as you look at his handsome face, taking in how each feature of his looks in the dim light.

“That’s good because I missed you.” He says in that voice that immediately makes your cheeks heat up and you can’t help but feel every filthy thought you’ve ever had about him floating around in your head at this moment.

“Is that so?” You ask in a whisper, you try to keep your voice even but it cracks with a bit of need and you know he hears it. He would’ve sensed it by now. “Of course.” Matt lets out a small breathless chuckle his expression morphing into a wider grin as he runs his hand down to your thick thighs, caressing gently with the midnight whispers of what’s to come. You watch his handsome face, taking in the expression, how there’s a playfulness in the quirk of his lips but there is also concentration etched into his brows and highlighted by the dim, evening light. Your eyes drop to watch his hand as you feel his rough, calloused hands gently push the hem of your nightgown up to more of your stomach. You don’t even realise you’re holding your breath until his fingers feel your now bare upper thighs and he squeezes them, you let out a short breath and quickly inhale again. Matt was absolutely in love with you and your body, he worshipped you, exactly as he should. You were a bit surprised that after the day you’d both had and then him coming back from a patrol he was already ready to go but as your cheeks heated up, he could be completely insatiable at times but you didn’t have a single complaint. “May I, darling?” He asks. “Yes, now…” You whisper with a smile to match his growing one. “Good, I need you…” He lets out a small groan as he moves so he’s now hovering over you as he spreads out your thighs and gets between them. He runs his fingers along the sensitive skin of your plush thighs. Matt brings his head down and leaves a trail of warm kisses inching up your thighs, you inhale and let out a little moan as you feel his hot breath on you and his soft, warm lips. You move your hand to touch the top of his head and run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as his kisses trail up higher and higher, getting closer to your core. He moves a hand up to lightly squeeze the beautiful love handles you have, he’s been enchanted by you from the very first beat of your heart that he could hear. He’s obsessed and his senses could just drown in you, he will happily shut out the rest of the world and all the responsibilities, codes of ethics and Catholic guilt that haunt him just to be fully focused on and overwhelmed by you. His hand that isn’t squeezing you moves up to get closer to your sweet hole. “You’re so perfect… So beautiful…” He says in a husky voice between the thigh kisses he’s showering you with. Matt’s fingers tease around your folds, more on the furthest parts of your vulva he can feel your arousal, he can smell it. He’s barely touched you but you’re already so needy and ready for him, he grins like the devil he is and his fingers edge closer to your core, he expertly teases his fingers through your slick folds. When he feels your juices and just how turned on you are, a deep groan leaves his mouth and you see his hips instinctively press into the mattress for a moment. You let out a gasp, it never takes him long to get you slick like this, just a few words and that infamous cocky grin that’s a frequent fixture on his face in the bedroom. You run your hands through his hair a bit more urgently now while he keeps teasing you with his digits, his fingers becoming coated in your juices. “Already soaking wet…” Matt teases in the sexiest tone you’ve ever heard, you let out a barely audible and desperate whimper, just needing more. You need more of him, as you watch Matt lift his hand away for a moment to bring it closer to his face. You watch him with heavy-lidded eyes as he licks it up, at first it’s slow and then he sucks the taste of you off his fingers more quickly and he moans.

“You always taste so good, sweetest thing in the world…” He says as he then moves his hand back down and fingers now circle your sweet hole, teasing you and you let out a whine as you just want to swallow him up now. “You taste so good, and you’re just so wet, baby… That pussy is just begging to be licked…” He groans, a neediness in his voice that’s just as equal to the need burning inside of you. “Please, Matt…” You whine out, your nails scratching his scalp a little bit more roughly. You need him, every muscle in your body is craving to feel his sensual touch, each inch of your skin needs to feel his body and you just need to be filled by him.

He quickly pushes his index finger in and you moan out. He closes his eyes as he slides it in and out, enjoying how your velvety walls swallow him, focusing on the other-worldly feeling of your body and the sweet musical moans each thrust of his fingers pulls out of you. You’re his soft and sexy instrument, singing out the most melodic tune. You moan out and tug his short hair as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out, he lets out a groan as he feels more and more of your juices. He slips another finger in, you’re that wet it slides in so easily and he groans at the feeling of how you just swallow that finger up and you moan yourself at the the fuller feeling it gives your hole. He can’t help it, he was right in his earlier statement, your body is just begging him to dive right in for a taste, he can’t resist it anymore, so he continues to pump his fingers in and out, pressing them in deeper and moving them at a faster pace as he brings his face closer to your core. Matt trails his tongue along the edge of your core, lightly running it along your folds as he moves his thumb to circle your sensitive little bud that is just begging for his attention.

His tongue glides amongst your folds and he moans against you as his fingers keep pumping and his thumb circles more lazily against your bundle of nerves. He moans against you and the simple vibrations of that make your body shake slightly and you moan out as your breathing becomes more shallow from the pleasure. “You make me feel so good Matt.” You whine out as you buck your hips up to meet his mouth and fingers more. That simple movement drives him more wild and he pumps his fingers more intensely making you moan. He starts to move his tongue more through you and eagerly laps up between your folds, his tongue brushing against your clit. He’s savouring the sweetness of your pussy like he’s a man that’s been absolutely starved, that he hasn’t eaten in forever and he’s never had a meal as decadent as this, that he’s never even dreamed of something so delicious and perfect even though his face had been buried between your thighs only hours ago, not weeks, months or years like you might imagine with how eager he was.

Matt licks your clit, circling it with the biggest need to pleasure you, he needs to devour this divine feast in front of him. He groans as he thinks about how he’d happily spend the rest of his life in this exact position, pleasuring you exactly like this. He needs to make you come, he’s feeling himself becoming harder and harder the more he thinks about making you come and feeling it on his tongue, his face, and being able to taste it. The feeling of Matt’s fingers curling inside you more makes you groan and your eyes widen as he sucks on your bundle of nerves and then hums, his mouth constantly going between lapping you up, licking and sucking on your clit. You’re getting closer and closer, you pull on his hair more and whine out loudly, you can feel the start of that incredible high kicking in. “I’m so close- I’m gonna-I’m gonna come Matty…” You frantically cry out as your eyes squeeze shut and your back arches as you tug on his hair, making you groan, he keeps licking and circling your clit and thrusting his thick fingers into you as you become undone and cry out as you release directly onto his fingers and tongue. You shake slightly as you come down from that high, your body overcome by pleasure and your sensitive spots becoming even more sensitive from release. Matt’s fingers move at a more gentle pace that pulls out another soft moan from you as you take some deep breaths. Matt licks you up, taking in each drop of your juices that he can just so he can treasure them on his tongue, let the flavour become a permanent memory for his mouth. One might think he’s licking you clean and while it’s a bit overstimulating his tongue is gentle, he isn’t done with you yet. He needs more of his sweet treat first before he can even think of moving on to having another part of him buried deep inside of you. He needs to make you come again first. You moan, and keep your eyes closed as all you can do is try to focus on your breathing, something you’re only able to do for four seconds, at the most. And you’re immediately back to only being able to focus on the feeling of his tongue working you through it. How it just makes you more aroused and wetter, you can’t help but think about how wet is mouth and chin must be, how they’ll glisten with your juices when he does pull away. “Matt…” You whisper and moan as you tug his hair lightly. “Come on baby.” He whispers against you before slowly licking through your folds again, the hand that isn’t slowly fingering you, moves up to your round stomach to caress it lovingly, almost reassuringly. “Just give me one more, please?” He asks as your cheeks heat up at that and you let out a little chuckle between moans. “It’s not going to take long for that.” You groan out as you feel his tongue apply more pressure to your hypersensitive bud.

“I know.” He whispers cockily against your clit which makes you shiver. Of course, he knew. What didn’t he know, he was a sexy human lie detector, one conveniently buried between your legs right now.

You’re feeling a bit overstimulated at the strokes of his tongue, but it also feels incredible as he keeps swirling his tongue, circling and sucking on your clit. He sucks a bit harder like his life depends on it as he applies more pressure with his mouth and also presses his fingers a bit deeper into your hole. You’re soaking him but he can’t help but moan against your core at the feeling of your needy, overstimulated bud and how your slick walls keep swallowing his digits up with each movement he makes.

Matt sucks a bit more hungrily as he can tell from your heartbeat and breathing that he’s brought you right back to the cliff again and you’re not even moments away from being pushed over into another release. God, he loves working you up like this and you love it too. One hand is tugging on his hair, becoming rougher with each calculated lick of his and your other is up to the other side of the pillow, tightly holding it, digging your nails in as you moan and feel that feeling of an orgasm building up again in your core. Your hips buck more into his face as you moan and your back arches as you whine out, your eyes roll back as the warm waves of that sweet release overcome you. Any and all tension in your body leaves as his tongue laps you up through your release. He was so obsessed with the taste of you, it was so much better than any cheap beer that Josie’s could serve on a hot night, sweeter than any honey that’s melted on his tongue.

His hand gently caresses your hip, tracing along an imaginary map as he licks you through the high and cleans you up with his mouth. He groans and comes up, leaving his second home for a moment.

“You taste and feel so good, I need to feel you more, I need to be buried in you.” Matt pants out as he moves up so that his hips are closer to yours and his face is hovering just inches against you. His voice is needy and low, if you were standing up and not already lying down on the bed you would’ve melted into a puddle. “Mm… Let me feel you deep inside, fill me up, Matty.” You whine out quietly as you run a hand lazily through his hair and place the other on the back of his shoulder. “My fingers weren’t enough were they?” He asks as he moves each of your legs to wrap around the back of his waist. “No..” You whine out as you look at him with heavy lids, running your fingers through his soft hair. “Mm, say my fingers weren’t enough.” He whispers and your cheeks heat up. “Your fingers weren’t enough Matty, didn’t make me feel full enough baby.” You moan out as you feel him press in. He groans at the feeling, he slides in slowly but easily with your two recent orgasms and just how soaked you are. He takes a shaky breath as his eyes close and he feels your body adjust to his entry and how your walls swallow, tighten and clench around his member.

“Mmm…” You moan out as your head falls back further into the pillow, Matt groans and starts to slowly move his hips against you which draws out a chorus of groans and moans from both of you. He caresses your plump thighs while moving and goes on a journey of kisses starting with your full cheeks to your soft jaw and along your sensitive neck, he groans and smirks at the way you moan when he gives those spots attention. His kisses are soft and sensual as he caresses and wraps his arms around you while he rocks in and out. “So perfect for me every time, you know that right? So perfect, and you swallow me up, and your body… I don’t need anything else.” He says and you feel his breath and each word tickle against your collarbone as he thrusts in and out. Your cheeks heat up and you groan as he thrusts in deeper and you feel yourself clenching around him, swallowing him up more with each perfect movement he makes. You love him, you love how he feels, how he makes you feel, you love who he is as a person and you love his body. Matt’s body presses closer against yours, flushing your bodies together, chest to chest, his forehead leaning against yours as he rocks in, his arms wrapping around, pressing your head closer ever so lovingly. He always loves this cuddling position, that makes your bodies feel even more like one. He moves deeper into you, enjoying this as he presses a soft kiss against your lips but he can’t help it. Your body is too goddamn perfect. Every bit of self-restraint leaves his body at the way that your perfect pussy keeps clenching around his thick member, he wanted to make this last, to fully bask in it, but when you clench around him like that, tug on his hair and moan like that he can’t help it. Who could? He groans hungrily and starts to move his hips quicker, the pace becoming deeper and more intense with each movement and he groans at the feelings. God, you feel incredible. He’s never felt so good with someone like he does with you, he knows it sounds silly but he’s convinced that your bodies were sculpted to perfectly fit together. There’s no other explanation. He groans and his eyes close as he pants thinking about it, he can hear your heart rate increasing at the change of pace. You’re so perfect. You whine out at the new depth and pace, tugging on his hair as you bite your lip. Your fingers dance across his back as you scratch it with each deep thrust of his that pulls a moan out of you. He has you feeling completely full and you can’t help but gasp out at the loss with each time his hips come back.

“You always feel perfect, you squeeze me just right…oh…” He groans and bites his lip, his arms wrapped around you move slightly so that he can cradle your head more and caress your forehead as he pounds into you. His groans are deep and just show you how much pleasure he’s in. You whine out and claw his back more, you’re sure that in the morning when you shower with him, there will be faint red lines on his back from your hands. The thought about that turns you on more as you keep scratching and moaning. You were flooding him as he kept moving deeper and deeper, each snap of his hips pulled more moans from you and he was groaning and when you clenched around him he’d sometimes let out a little hiss.

It felt so good, too good, it shouldn’t be possible for two bodies to be able to bring each other this much pleasure. Yet there you both were in the bed you shared doing it anyway. Matt’s body kept moving at a quick pace, he was fumbling any form of control he had over making this last, his hips were quick but now he was thrusting into you more deeply and frantically as your room became filled with the noises of your bodies meeting and all your moans.

Matt needed to chase his high now, he was too close and he knew it was going to happen in mere seconds, not minutes. He keeps driving his hips into you as he cuddles against you, you’re tugging on his hair and moaning against his neck, sucking on it when you’re not too overwhelmed to cry out. You keep tugging against his hair and moaning, you can’t read his body as well as he can read yours for obvious reasons but you know he’s getting closer, his breathing is shallow and his hips are moving intensely and starting to sputter. Matt groans loudly and kisses you hotly, pushing his tongue in and dancing with yours as he groans and swallows up your respective moans as his hips keep frantically moving to thrust in and out of your sweet, sweet hole until he gives his last groan against your mouth and releases, deep inside of you. He’s so loud and his eyes snap shot as he’s overcome with the feeling of that release. The warmth of his come floods you and he keeps his lips pressed against you softly as his body stills and after a moment, he pulls his lips away. Matt caresses your forehead as he pants, pressing a gentle kiss there. “So perfect.” He whispers before pressing another. You pant out and kiss his jaw. Nobody made love like Matt did, nobody could ever fill you the way he did and take you to absolute pleasure like that. He was perfect and you press kisses against his jaw in between your pants as your heart still races. He’s still inside of you. Jesus Christ, he’s still inside of you. You groan at that thought and then Matt presses a long and gentle kiss to your lips, his lips are so warm and soft. You smile as you look up at him, there’s some sweat on his brow and in his soft hair and your cheeks heat up as you can see some of your juices still glistening on his mouth and chin.

He’s smiling widely as well, it’s not a devilish grin but rather a happy, content smile. He loves you, words aren’t needed. He pulls out after a moment and then lays back and pulls you carefully into his arms to rest your head against his chin and he closes his eyes. “You’re sweeter than honey.” He whispers as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

“I guess that’s lucky for me.” You breathlessly whisper while trying to catch your breath.

“No darling, I’m the lucky one.” He says as he pants and presses a warm kiss to the side of your head. You smile and that and you both let out a small chuckle as you cuddle more into his warm body. You might’ve not had a taste of him tonight like he did of you but he’s equally sweet as honey you think.

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sturnlovaa · 6 days

Text

°•. IMAGINE — Matthew Sturniolo in desperate need of your touch.

cw.. protected p n v, period sex (mentions of blood — im on my period atm so you all have to suffer with me 😊), oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, edging, y/n.

💌: 600 speciallllll !! gaining fast and i appreciate all the support recently — it’s insane. also, happy day one of autumn !

the cold night air nipped at your skin as you lay in bed, the soft glow of your bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. suddenly, a gentle tapping sound on your window broke the silence. you froze, listening intently.

the tapping came again, this time accompanied by a hushed whisper, "y/n, it's me," his voice was barely audible, yet it sent a jolt of anticipation through you. you slipped out of bed, padding softly across the hardwood floor to your window.

with a creak, you pushed the window open, the cool night breeze washing over you. "hello, stranger," you whispered, a hint of mischief in your voice. he moved closer, his features emerging from the shadows.

his gaze raked over you, hungry and intense. "i've been trying to catch up with you," he said, his voice low as he leaned against the windowsill. "you've been MIA,"

"busy," you replied curtly, not wanting to elaborate. you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear nonchalant despite the flutter in your stomach. his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in a way that made you wonder if he was going to push the issue.

"look, it's late," you said, uncrossing your arms and leaning against the wall beside the window. "is there something you need?" your tone was neutral, Matt's face darkened, and he pushed off from the windowsill. "yeah, there is,"

"i need you," he said bluntly, his eyes locked onto yours. the air grew heavy between you, charged with unspoken words and pent-up desire. "you've been ghosting me, and i'm quite.. overdue,"

your eyebrows furrowed as you processed his words. "overdue?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice. his expression remained serious as he began to climb through your window — his presence filling the space. "you know what I mean,"

he finally managed to squeeze himself inside, his tall frame looming over you. "i've been.. needing a release," he admitted, his voice strained. "and you owe me," his eyes bored into yours, unblinking as he gets himself fully through. "you disappeared on me without a word,"

he took a step closer, his broad shoulders blocking out the moonlight. "and now, I'm standing here, blue balls and all, because you couldn't even send a text," he ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration etched on his face.

you bit your lower lip, torn between guilt and amusement. "well, you are standing here now," you pointed out, tilting your head to meet his gaze. his expression softened, and he reached out, gently tugging you closer by the hem of your shirt. "yes, i am,"

"and I'm not leaving until I've collected," he murmured, pulling you against his chest. his body heat seeped into you, banishing the chill of the night air. you could feel the hardness of him pressed against you, a clear indication of just how overdue he was.

you stiffened against him, a wave of regret washing over you as you remembered why you’d been avoiding him. "Matt, wait," you said, pushing weakly against his chest. "i can't, i'm on my period,"

he stilled, his body tensing. "since when does that stop us?" he asked gruffly, not pulling away. "you know i don't care about that," his hands roamed down to cup your backside, giving it a gentle squeeze. "remember our rules?"

you let out a soft, reluctant hum, remembering the unspoken agreement between you two. "no holds barred," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "to an extent, of course," his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, caressing your skin.

"but it's been days, and I'm desperate, sweetheart," he rasped, his calloused hands gliding up your sides. "i need your mouth, your hands.. anything," his large hands slid down to your exposed waist, lifting you up.

carrying you over to the bed, he sat down with you in his lap, straddling him. his breath was hot against your neck as he nuzzled into the curve of your shoulder. "please, just do something, anything," his voice was low, almost pleading.

you let out a soft sigh, your resolve crumbling under his touch. "fine," you whispered, "go get a towel," his face lit up with a mischievous grin, and he quickly deposited you on the bed before rushing to your bathroom.

while he was gone, you curled up on the bed, trying to calm your racing heart. you could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom, the sound of the cabinet door opening and closing. after a moment, he returned with a pink towel in hand.

kneeling on the floor in front of you, he gently pulled your sweats down, along with your panties before pushing your thighs apart. "lift your hips," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. you did as you were told, and he slid the towel underneath you, positioning it to catch any leakage from your period.

satisfied with the makeshift protection, his focus shifted back to you. his touch was gentle yet firm as he pushed your legs wider, making room for himself between them. he leaned down, pressing his face against your inner thigh and inhaling deeply. "god, I've missed your scent,"

you let out a shaky breath, leaning back on your elbows as he buried his face between your thighs. his warm breath and soft lips sent shivers down your spine. his fingers gently spread your lips apart, granting him access to your most intimate area. he inhaled deeply, his nose pressing against your sensitive flesh.

with a contented sigh, he began to kiss and nuzzle your pussy, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste your delicate folds. you couldn't help but arch your back, pressing your cunt against his face. he obliged, increasing the pressure of his kisses and sucking gently on your clit.

"Matt.." you whimpered, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. his hands gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you even closer as he devoured you with desperate passion. you could feel the warmth of your blood mingling with the wetness of his saliva, soaking the towel beneath you.

you gripped his hair tightly, your hips bucking against his face as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy. just when you thought you would finally find release, he would slow down or change the pattern, keeping you suspended in a state of unfulfilled desire. "please.."

he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. "not yet," he whispered, his breath hot against your area. his tongue flickered out, circling your clit slowly before plunging into your tight channel. you gasped, your body convulsing with the effort to hold back your orgasm.

with a final, agonizingly slow lap of his tongue, he finally pulled away from your aching pussy. he placed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before standing up and unbuckling his belt. you watched, breathless, as he freed his thick, hard cock from his pants.

"touch yourself," he demanded, wrapping his hand around his shaft and beginning to stroke it. you hesitated for a moment before sliding your hand between your thighs, your fingers finding your swollen clit. as you started to rub yourself, his grip tightened around his cock, his strokes becoming faster and more desperate.

"put a finger inside," he grunted, his eyes flicking down to watch as you obeyed. you slipped a digit into your warmth, your body clenching around it. he let out a low groan, his hand pumping furiously as he watched you pleasure yourself. "add another,"

you complied, slipping a second finger inside your slick opening. your arm trembled with the effort to keep up the pace while your other hand gripped the sheets beneath you. his breathing grew heavier, his face contorted with concentration as he neared his own release.

"fuck, just like that," he panted, his hand moving in a blur as he jerked himself off. just as you were about to reach your own climax one more, he suddenly stopped stroking his cock, his hand freezing in place. "no, not yet," he commanded, his voice tight with restraint as he reached out to pause your moments.

you whimpered in frustration, your body aching for release. he gently removed your fingers from your pussy, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean — he truly didn’t give a fuck what the circumstance was. "soon," he promised, his voice low and dangerous.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, quickly sheathing his throbbing cock. he finally settled between your thighs, the tip his dick pressing against your opening.

"look at me," he demanded, his voice hoarse. your eyes met his as he slowly pushed inside, inch by agonizing inch. you gasped at the sensation, your fingernails digging into his biceps. once fully seated, he paused, allowing you to adjust to his size. "you okay?"

you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. he began to move, slowly at first, his hips rolling in a hypnotizing rhythm. each thrust sent waves of pleasure through your body, and you found yourself matching his rhythm, lifting your hips to meet his.

his pace quickened, his breathing growing ragged as he buried his face in your neck. you could feel his hot breath against your skin, his stubble prickling your flesh. the room filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the slick slap of flesh against flesh.

"Matthew.." you whimpered in his ear, your body tensing as your release finally neared. he must have felt it too, because he reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your engorged bud and applying just the right amount of pressure. "that's it, baby,"

your nails now rested on his sides, raked down them as you clung to him, the intensity of your emotions mirroring the power of your impending release. "i.. i can't.. please.." you panted, your voice barely a whisper.

"come for me," he growled, his voice low and commanding. with a final, hard thrust, he pushed you over the edge. your body convulsed around him, your cries of passion filling the room. he continued to move inside you, drawing out your climax until you were boneless and spent.

as you floated back down to earth, he covered your trembling form with his own. he held you close, his heart pounding against your chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath. after a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes searching yours. "mine,"

©sturnlovaa

— tags

@shadowthesim , @ifwdominicfike , @sturniolo04 , @mattsdolll , @sturncakez , @jetaimevous , @biiatrizzz , @blahblogs-stuff , @chlotapcs , @poolover123 , @55sturn , @franticroads , @brvtall , @gwennybenny , @starlace111 , @luvs4matt , @lov3bug .

#matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut #e writes ౨ৎ #sturnlovaa

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months

Note

I saw you're looking for more post prison spencer and sunshine reader!

What about sunshine reader having a badass moment and save spencer from an unsub? Spence would definitely be worried but amazed at the same time

Only if you want to write it haha thanks! I love your writing always ❤️ 💕

cw: mentions of episode '300' and Spencer and Garcia being taken by the cult. Spencer suffers from a busted lip, broken nose and being in love, so does the reader :)

You were cold with worry and anger. They’d taken Spencer and Penelope from right under your nose. You were gone twenty minutes and the entire BAU is shut down and ripped open because they’re gone.

Then Penelope came back, disheveled and shaking and you were seeing red. “We’ll find him, Penny.” You whisper to her as you strap your kevlar vest on and set your guns to your hips and boot.

“Be safe.” She says, gaze wild as Tara ushers her to a seat and you all begin filing out to an SUV.

When you get to the field, you can hear Spencer talking but you’re not focused on that.

Emily would have you sit down in her office after this is all over to tell you that you were militant and that you probably hadn’t done everything by the book, but you don’t care.

You take down two of the guards Ben’s believers have hovering the entrances, and you wait till you catch Spencer’s eyes before breathing out slowly.

Emily and Matt cover your sides as you sneak around to the back of their altar.

You’re moving outside of your body, your mind just focused on freeing Spencer and getting to him safely. You just feel your body, using your training to knock them out rather than shoot at them.

“FBI,” JJ announces and then the gunfire ensues.

You’re aware of taking down two more members of the believers who try aiming their guns at you and Spencer before Emily, Luke and Tara are barking orders.

“Hands where we can see them. Everybody on the ground!” Your ears feel stuffed with cotton, all you can see is Spencer; his face bruised and his nose looking a little more crooked than it usually is.

You cut Spencer free of the rope, arms around his neck as you hold him close.

“They burst your lip.” Your hands bury themselves in his hair, holding his face close to your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” he whispers back. Eyes closed and breathing you in. “How’s Penelope?”

You sigh, “She’s okay, a little shaken up but I’m gonna call her. Let her know we saved you.”

He breathes a laugh through his nose, pulling away and finding you more worried than he’d expected.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been with them.” You know Spencer’s trying to make this situation seem lighter but your frown worsens.

“Spencer, that is not the comforting thought you think it is.”

He laughs outright this time, walking with you back to the SUV. You call Penelope as soon as you’re back in the car.

“Hey Pen, we got him and we’re on our way back to you.” She breathes a long sigh over the phone.

“I’m okay Garcia, thank you for helping save me.”

The phone call doesn’t last much longer, and you use the time to just stare at Spencer as you sit next to each other in the back.

“They broke your nose. And you’re going to mottle on your pretty cheekbones.”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “I set it already, plus the bruising can be helped if I ice.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, your hands hovering near Spencer’s face. He leans into your hand and you smile, your thumb grazing his bottom lip and your index finger brushing his nose.

“You should take martial arts classes,” you say softly.

“I don’t like cardio, not that type anyway.” He says the last part so quietly you almost miss it, but you choke on your gasp all the same.

“It would help stop all these abductions. You could disarm your attacker much easier if you did,”

“Jiu jitsu, I know. It’s too coordinated and I’m too clunky at that sort of stuff.”

Your eyes glint with mischief as you pull away your hands from his face. “But you’re good at other types of cardio?”

He smiles, his dimples popping out making you want to poke his cheek.

“How’re you feeling? No shaking with the adrenaline comedown?” Spencer deviates from your loaded question with one of his own. His eyes scan your entire body, focusing on your eyes and your hands.

“I’m just tired now, Spence. Kicking ass is tough. Is the adrenaline supposed to do that?” He nods, you lean your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you can sleep but I think it might be better to stay awake so you can do your reports once we get to Quantico.” Spencer knows how anal you are about doing your reports right after wrapping a case when the memories and details are fresh and unstained by how you wish things went.

“No, I can do it. I won’t forget it if I sleep,” you yawn. “Plus, I could feel your eyes on me the entire time so you can look it over to make sure I didn’t miss any details.”

Spencer laughs, Emily and Luke filing into the SUV as he strokes your arm, lulling you closer to sleep.

“You’re ridiculous, but I’ll look it over for you, sweet girl. Get some sleep.”

Emily cuts Spencer a look from the rear-view mirror that has his cheeks flushing but he ignores it in favor of setting his cheek to your head and closing his eyes as well; the smell of you flooding his senses as he starts dozing off.

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the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

Power Couple

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Princess Y/n (Daemons Wife) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2704

Anonymous asked:

More of matt smith characters fics plss🙏🏼🫶

Daemon woke very hungover to the sound of his bed chamber door being slammed shut, he groaned and slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes. His head ached as he slowly opened his eyes with a frown on his face. "What do you want?" Daemon said, irritated as he looked up,

Y/n his long-suffering wife stood at the edge of his bed in her long black gown, her arms crossed and a firm look on her face, "I need to talk to you,"

Daemon groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair. He was already irritated at the fact that she dared to come to the bed chamber when he was nursing a hangover, "And what is it that you want to talk about, hm?" He said, the irritation evident in his voice already blocking her voice out in his mind,

But Y/n was far smarter than that, she could tell he’d already shut her voice out, but she knew how to force him to pay attention to her. So she moved the sheets away from his body, given his hangover he was far too slow to argue with her. She hitched up her dress and sat on his lap resting her hands on his loose shirt, "A raven came, from Kings Landing… from your brother."

Daemon's annoyance grew he was already irritated from last night's drinking. For a moment, he thought of pushing her off, but the mention of his brother made him pause. He was angry at his brother and wanted nothing to do with him. "What did my prick of a brother say?"

"He is requesting you to go to King's Landing, he has a new position to offer you, apparently. Raven didn't say what," she explained as she shifted on his lap grinding gently against his morning wood,

Daemon groaned in annoyance but didn't push her away. The irritation on his face slowly faded with the deliberate teasing and grinding. "A new position, huh? That prick..." He muttered under his breath. He reached out and grabbed her hips tightening their bodies, "And what do you suggest I do?" He asked, his voice less harsh. He was starting to pay attention to her, despite his attempts not to.

"I would suggest you make it an event" She shifted a little sitting up and unlacing his britches before she slowly let him slip inside her, "Go on Caraxes and make a show of it, for your brother and the lord's. Hear his offer and then come back here to think of over," she explained as she slowly shifted her hips to ride him,

With a faint gasp, Daemon's grip on her hips tightened, the irritation had almost disappeared, replaced by a mix of desire and frustration. "Make a show of it, hm..." Daemon muttered through gritting teeth, his eyes flickering between her face and the movement of her hips.

"I'm not saying accept it. You know it'll be awful, and it would mean staying in the red keep. But listen to his offer atleast"

His grip on her hips loosened a little, Daemon knew she was right, and he didn't want to admit it. But he could no longer deny the effect her presence had on him. "Mm..." He mumbled breathlessly, his eyes never leaving her face. "And what if... What if the offer is intriguing?"

"Even so come back here to dragonstone and think it over. I'd nothing else to keep him waiting " she explained gasping as she moved faster

A low moan escaped Daemon's lips as she picked up the pace, his fingers digging into her hips again. He was getting more and more lost in the pleasure of her movements. "You make a good point..." He panted, trying to maintain his demeanor despite the growing desire that was slowly taking over him. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched her closely, his breaths growing more ragged. "Keep going..." He whispered his voice almost a growl as he gave into the pleasure. His eyes were fixated on her face, watching her every expression as she continued to slowly ride him, causing him to let out another low moan. "We can talk more later..."

she nodded and moved faster as she was already close

Daemon's grip on her hips only tightened even more, helping her move faster on his lap. "Damnit, you're so eager for me today, aren't you?" He groaned softly, his eyes darkening with desire. His breaths grew ragged as he watched her closely, his heart racing and his body aching with need for her. He was trying to hold back his moans, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much he was enjoying this, but he was quickly losing any semblance of control.

"Can you blame me... You've ignored me for three weeks"

Daemon was about to object and deny, but he couldn't. He could feel the weight of his neglect over the past weeks. "I've been... Busy, you know that." He said, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to form words through his ragged breaths. He was close too, his body tensing under her and he held her hips with almost bruising force.

"busy with your whores." She glared

Daemon winced at her glare, unable to deny the truth of her words. "I've... needed a distraction, you know that." He muttered, looking away from you for a brief moment. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He knew it was wrong, but the guilt was quickly replaced by the growing pleasure of her movement on top of him.

"am I not distracting?" She asked moaning softly

Daemon's body tensed even more and he let out a deep guttural moan, "Ah... you're distracting enough to make me forget my name right now.” He panted, his grip on her hips still firm as he held her close, his breaths coming in short gasps and moans now.

she grabbed his neck and pulled him into a kiss as she moaned and reached her orgasm squeezing around him and trembling a little,

Daemon couldn't resist. He melted into the kiss, their mouths clashing together hungrily as his tongue entered her mouth. At the same time, the moment she reached her peak, he let out another deep moan against her lips, "Ah, damnit..." He groaned, his body tensing as he followed her over the edge, gripping her hips tightly and holding her tightly against him.

As the pleasure began to subside, a heavy silence blanketed the room. The only sounds were their ragged breaths as they slowly came back to their senses. Daemon didn't want to let her go, despite his irritation earlier. He tightened his grip on her hips pulling her to his chest, His eyes searched her face, his expression a mix of desire and guilt. There was a long pause before he spoke, his voice hoarse and low. "I've been a damned fool, haven't I?"

"yes... You have... But... Still… your brother" she gasped,

Daemon sighed, looking away and breaking the intense eye contact for a moment. He slowly loosened his grip on her hips, his fingers tracing small circles on them as he reluctantly shifted back into his usual irritated persona."Fine..." He muttered, his voice taking on that familiar tinge of irritation. "I'll go to King's Landing... and I will listen to my prick of a brother's words."

"thank you," she nodded between gasps "I'll have the maester send a raven that you're coming," she said climbing off and lying on the bed,

Daemon let out a soft hiss, feeling the absence of her warmth and body against him. Despite his usual stoicism, he couldn't help the slight pang of disappointment. "Mm..." He mumbled, letting out a soft sigh as he shifted back on the bed and lay next to her. Daemon was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "I'll be back as soon as possible..."

"... Will you be taking your lady friend?" She asked her tone pointed

Daemon froze at her question, his body tensing. He knew he had it coming and he couldn't blame her for being jealous, but he still felt his usual irritation creeping up within him. "Don't start." He said, his voice low and sharp. "No, I won't be taking her. She means nothing to me, you know that." He said, his words almost harsh as he tried to brush off the implication behind her question.

She hummed staring at the ceiling,

The silence in the room was thick and uncomfortable. It was clear that neither of them were in the best of moods. Daemon was still lying next to her, his body tense and his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The irritation was still visible, but there was also a hint of tiredness in his expression. Eventually, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "You know it's just meaningless carnal pleasure, right? I don't care for her the way I care for you."

"I wasn't aware you cared for me?" her tone as sharp as a knife,

That was a direct hit and Daemon flinched slightly at her words. He could sense the hurt behind her voice and knew he had it coming. He stayed quiet for a moment, refusing to look at her still. When he spoke again, his voice was less harsh, almost tired. "I... I do care for you, dammit." He muttered, his fingers clenching the sheets beneath him.

"shouldn't her wife be for your carnal pleasure?"

Daemon let out a frustrated sigh, his jaw clenching again as he turned to look at her, "You don't understand it, do you? You're my wife by name, but we both know this marriage was arranged. You're a different kind of woman, and I have different needs-" His voice trailed off, his gaze locking with hers, his eyes trying to convey the truth behind his words, his own inner struggle clear in his expression.

"such as?"

Daemon clenched his jaw again, hesitating before answering. He could see the hurt in her eyes and it only made him more frustrated with himself. But he spoke truthfully, his voice thick with a hint of guilt. "You're not the kind of woman I need. You're sweet, kind, fragile. And I... need more..." He paused, unable to keep eye contact. He looked away for a moment before glancing back at you, his gaze hardening. "You're not strong, you're not fiery, you're not the kind of woman who can handle me."

"... Which one of us just walked in and took the other without even asking?"

Daemon froze as she threw back at him. He had no defense, because deep down, he knew she was right. He couldn't deny it, but he desperately tried to keep up his irritable act. "That's... different," he muttered through clenched teeth,

"is it?" She chuckled "Daemon I am your wife... Whatever you want I will do. You know that I've never kept that a secret... And oddly enough I am sick of being sneared at. People talk at court... That you so rarely share my bed, make no secret of your whores, don't you think that's humiliating for me?"

Daemon was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched and his mind working through her words. He knew she was right, and he hated himself for it. He hadn't really considered how his actions would affect her, how the court would talk behind her back. And to think he had never bothered to ask … "I... didn't..." He muttered weakly, unsure how to respond.

"you know I am willing to do whatever it is you ask of me ... There should only be two possible desires you can have that I would not be able for forfill for you. Both involve putting a sword in your hand...And both of those I would assist as much as I could." She said before sitting up getting off the bed to straighten her dress "... Next time call for your wife. Not your whore.

Daemon watched, A mix of emotions flashed across his face as he listened to her words; frustration and guilt mixed with something else that he couldn't quite identify. He sat up on the bed, running a hand through his messy hair again. "You know it's not that simple," he muttered, his voice still low but less sharp.

"why not? Tell me why it isn't?" She asked

Daemon let out a frustrated sigh, frustrated at himself for getting himself in this situation and at her unrelenting questions. "You're not the kind of woman I need," he repeated, "You're fragile, delicate, soft. I need a woman with fire and passion, who can keep up with me and my needs-"

she slapped him across the cheek "Do not pretend you have any idea what kind of woman I am anymore"

Daemon's eyes widened in shock. He was caught completely off guard, not expecting such a strong reaction, He remained silent for a moment, his cheek stinging from the impact. He had never expected her to actually hit him, and it sent a mix of anger and guilt coursing through his body. Slowly, he rubbed his face a mixture of annoyance and guilt flickering in his expression."What was that for..." There was a hint of disbelief in his voice,

"we have been married for ten years. I am not the frightened shivering little maiden I was when I was dragged through King Landing to be your bride. Who cried her whole wedding night from fear. Who screamed and punched walls till my fingers broke when I failed to keep our son inside me…. I am not that woman anymore..."

Daemon's face softened and he was struck silent. His heart clenched with guilt, He looked up at her, his gaze meeting hers and his voice low and quiet. "I... hadn't realized."

"no, you haven't. Because you don't ask."

Daemon's face twisted into a look of guilt and regret as she spoke, her words piercing straight through him. He realized the truth in her words and the weight of his failure to truly know you hit him hard. She was right, he hadn't asked, he hadn't paid attention to the changes in her, the strength she had gained. He looked away for a moment, unable to meet her gaze, his jaw clenching. His voice was quiet, almost apologetic when he spoke again. "I should have asked."

"you should. But don't bother to dwell or cant be changed. So just... Do better from now on" she glared before she went to leave

Daemon watched in silence, his expression a mix of guilt and remorse. He knew he had messed up, and the realization hit him hard. "Wait." He said, his voice still low but with a hint of desperation. He got off the bed and walked over to her grabbing her arm gently,

she sighed turning back to him "Yes Daemon?"

Daemon looked at her, his gaze holding a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I... I want to be better," he said slowly, his words taking some hesitation. "I want to pay more attention to you, to learn about you again. I've been a damn fool, and I want to make it right."

"... Thank you, but actions speak louder then words"

Daemon nodded in agreement, recognizing that his words wouldn't be enough to make up for his failure as a husband. "You're right," he admitted, his voice still sounding a bit guilty and remorseful. He paused for a moment before continuing, his grip on her arm still gentle yet firm. "I'll prove it to you. I promise."

“I… will choose to trust you.” She nodded,

Suddenly an idea came to Daemon’s mind, “Come with me,”

“What?”

“To Kings Landing with me,” He said, “pack your most seductive and beautiful dress, and ride on Caraxes with me, We will make a show of our arrival together. As prince and princess of Dragonstone. Silence their rumours and talk. Be seen as Dragons, of true Targaryen Power…Together.” He offered bringing her hand to his lips and giving her knuckles a gentle kiss,

“You mean this?”

“I can think of no better show of power, than having my wife by my side,”

“A power couple,” she chuckled,

“A power couple, So? Will you come with me, my sweet wife?”

“...Alright,” She agreed, “But I’m picking our clothes.”

“Deal.” He chuckled,

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