#Matt being a good dad

[multiscribe]

Title: Just Like Daddy

Fandom: Daredevil

Characters : Matt murdock /female reader little mini Matt (you’ll see)

Rating: soft R for cannon typical violence and cursing and maybe some flirting

Notes: inspired by this pic I saw this morning-done in one day special thanks to @hellskitchens-whore for the inspiration

In memory of my darling Sammie who would fit right in with Matt

“Let me get you some excedrin honey” you whispered as you rose from the edge of the bed trying to be as quiet as possible.

Your husband Matt Murdock the devil of Hell’s Kitchen was having a rare night off. Not because he wanted to of course but migraine’s as a rule fucking sucked donkey eggs.

It had been a whirlwind courtship between the two of you but even Karen and Foggy could see just how far gone he was. And when you knew you knew right?

So it surprised no one when a year to the day you two broke the news that you were expecting your first child.

Of course there had been some heartbreak when you learned your little girl would never be able to see like normal kids. And it had taken some extraordinary prodding from you to bring Matt back from the utter ocean of Catholic guilt he had been wallowing in.

‘Teach her to defend herself Matt teach her how to fight like you do so we never have to worry’

Famous fucking last words as you would soon learn.

Because your baby girl took to it like a duck to water and these days when she wasn’t working on her homework she’d usually be up at Fogwell’s with Matt either helping him train or training herself

Even Stick had taken a liking to her.

By the time she was 4 and a half you two had learned that her senses far outpaced those of her father.

But she’d been content to do normal little girl things. Like paint Auntie Karen’s nails or braid uncle foggy’s hair.

Until tonight.

Until tonight Matt had never come down with a migraine so bad it stopped him from going out to his ‘night job’.

Gently pressing the two pills into his left hand and water bottle into his right you whispered “I’m gonna go check on her then I’ll come to bed okay?”

He had barely taken his meds when your panicked cry sent him rushing toward your daughter’s bedroom.

She was gone

Glass on the floor and perfume winding through the room. Someone knew they knew about her abilities and his.

He could only pull you close as the devil in him seethed and raged. Someone was going to pay dearly for having taken their little girl.

He had called Karen and Foggy to come sit with you in case she managed to find her way back. He also didn’t trust whoever took her to not swing back and try and snatch you too.

What he ‘saw’ down by the docks was not something he expected and a ton of emotions hit him at once

Pride

Shock

Worry

Fear

Relief

Because leaping silently from container to container there was his daughter.

She was dressed in a miniature replica of his black outfit and some pleased part of him saw that she’d remembered to wrap her hands.

He took off after her having to catch himself several times from stepping in. All that training with Stick had done her good. You were gonna kill the pair of them of course but that was a fight for another day.

She had found an illegal dog fighting ring and had beaten the fighters to a bloody pulp. This was no surprise to him as she LOVED dogs and you and he were discussing the merits of getting your daughter a service dog prospect for Christmas.

However hearing the unmistakable scrape of metal that signaled a gun being raised had him reaching for his Billie club.

But as it happened she didnt need his help

Because before he could even throw it there was a huge hulking black shepherd that launched herself out of the darkness and latched her teeth onto the man’s arm drawing a scream from him.

Once all of the threats were down he heard his daughter call softly to the dog who dropped the man’s arm before she could rip it off and came to sit by her side.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that when he approached there was an ominous sounding snarl from the dog.

The devil in him smirked. It seemed they found her Christmas present early

“It’s okay girl..that’s my daddy” before finally she stepped around the dog and launched herself into his arms

“God baby do you know how scared you made your mommy and I?” He knows he should loosen his grip but she’s here and real and safe thank you god above for protecting my little girl

“Didn’t mean to” she whispers against his shoulder “you was sick daddy people needed help. I was careful like uncle stick taught me”

Oh he was SO gonna kick Stick’s ass the next time he saw him!

“How many people did you help tonight baby?”

He felt her tiny lips curl into a smile “well I stopped some bad men from taking an old lady’s purse. I helped another lady when the guy she was with he was gonna hit her-you said a man should NEVER hit a woman that it’s..illegal? In the state of New York”

Matt could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. God when had his daughter gotten so smart?and so brave?

“That’s right baby what else?”

She leaned up looking thoughtful “well I thought I should come home soon and I was on my way I promise!! But then I heard someone hurting doggies so I came down here.. they kicked one and they hurt it bad so I made THEM hurt instead. Then you found me!”

Matt exhaled gently before setting her on her feet “right now little miss there’s gonna be some ground rules. First you do not leave the house without me understood?You scared me and your momma half to death when we couldn’t find you. Second your grades fall even a little this?is done” she gave a silent nod “okay daddy” he could tell she was confused so he softened a little “your grandpa Jack had the same rules for me.He didn’t want me to fight but kinda like you I found my way into it but not til much later”

She tilted her head “what’s rule 3 daddy?” He chuckled softly “you have to apologize to your momma for worrying her”

She nodded “Kay I didn’t mean to honest! But I’ll ‘pologize can we keep Sammie?”

How could he say no to his angel?

The trek back was slower on foot as both had to slow down to allow Sammie to keep pace. She had some glass shards in her foot that would be cleaned up as soon as the chaos died down.

The sound of the roof door opening had you running for the stairs before Karen or Foggy could stop you

“Mommy!!” A sob tore from you as your daughter launched herself into your arms

“Baby are you hurt?where were you what happened?” It took you a minute to process what you were seeing

Your daughter pulling the black mask off her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders in a mess of curls

You looked to Matt silently questioning caught between relief and pure mamma bear rage

“I found her by the docks. She wasn’t taken she just wanted to help out. We already laid some strict ground rules” because you knew she was as stubborn as your husband -at least this way you knew she would be safe as she could be.

“Oh and this is Sammie” the shepherd eyed you warily before drawing closer for a sniff. When she learned that you were related she merely laid down at your feet with a tired huff and rolled over on her back demanding belly rubs

You had a love of dogs too especially Shepherds so it was no real question there. But it took you a moment before you realized what Matt had said and looked to your daughter who smiled “the bad man was gonna try and hurt me with his gun..but she protected me. Just like you said ‘member?”

At that you fully broke embracing both Matt and your daughter fiercely.

You had told her that story when she was first learning how to be respectful of other animals. How when you were at your lowest long before you met Matt that you had a pure black shepherd who was insanely protective of you. When you had suffered being homeless not once but twice in the cold Pennsylvania winter she was the only thing that kept you going.

And how someone had placed a call to animal control and she had been taken away.. for good

A nudge under your arm drew your attention. The resemblance was uncanny but it couldn’t be.. you were told she had been put down as she had seemingly out of the blue turned vicious and it had broken you.

A little bit of gray on her muzzle she’d be the right age..

“Sammie..babygirl?” When you were knocked back onto the floor by a black missle of fur and began to weep hysterically at first Matt was concerned.

But then he picked up your words between sobs “it’s you! Oh my god it’s you! My darling oh god how oh I don’t care!”

Matt pulled his daughter up onto his lap his own mask discarded and smiled at his daughter’s questioning look “you know I was thinking she was gonna be your service dog…but do you think you could share with mommy?” The little girl nodded “sure! Why’s mommy crying though?”

Matt smiled and kissed her temple “despite you scaring us half to death…you made a miracle happen sweetie… that IS Sammie”

Your daughter’s eyes widened almost comically and soon the three of you were on the floor together alongside Karen and Foggy being covered in kisses and the occasional paw to the face (you’d allow it this once she was happy to be home after all!)

You leaned over whispering to Matt “I’m still gonna kick Stick’s ass the next time I see him”

Matt smirked and pulled you close for a kiss “gotta beat me to it first sweetheart”

The End

[pastafossa]

Pasta I don’t know if you saw my ask before but I thought I’d try again since you’re having an answering session now! I have a Matt X reader fic I think you’d love:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49083334/chapters/123831982

It’s still a WIP but it’s SO good

I KNOW THIS ONE! I was on, I think I'd just finished chapter 9 it looks like in my bookmarks folder (the lasagna chapter). I haven't caught up yet with all the craziness in my life (holy shit I'm behind, look at all the new chapters!), but @souliebird 's done an amazing job with it and I was following it! Normally I tend to avoid fics with kids in them just due to personal stuff but I took a chance on their fic and it's been a lovely read, so I second this: this is really good and I have every intention of catching up!

[trentreznorspussy]

finally finished reading starve acre and uh um. fucking uhhhhhh if you’re in the mood for fucked up relationships (romantic, platonic, familial) and drowning in grief and folk horror and british children (derogatory) i would suggest it very highly

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us

In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.

Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts

Series Master List Main Master List

TheYappingHour posted:

349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.

There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team. 

“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for. 

You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it. 

“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle. 

“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider. 

“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building. 

 Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop. 

Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors. 

“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself. 

“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand. 

Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.” 

“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time. 

“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty. 

“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot. 

“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.  

You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.” 

“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.” 

He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?” 

He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer. 

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career. 

“And yet you still came.” You tease.

“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him. 

“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.” 

You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with. 

Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you. 

“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?” 

Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview. 

“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’” 

“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right. 

Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you. 

“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”

“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief. 

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.” 

“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?” 

“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR. 

Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.” 

You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.” 

“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head. 

“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”

The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you. 

“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?" 

You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.” 

“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.

The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you. 

You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up. 

“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.” 

Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.” 

You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone. 

You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!” 

“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.” 

You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…” 

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.  

“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion. 

“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture. 

Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…” 

You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly. 

“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice. 

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.” 

“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.” 

TheYappingHour posted

987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.

yourpersonalinsta posted

234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed

tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)

@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[desturns]

FATHER'S DAY SPECIAL , making matt a daddy

a lot about matt got you insanely horny. his hands, his beautiful smile, the way he'd be able to make you laugh until you were crouched over near pissing yourself, his stubble when he got too lazy to shave down after a couple of days. hell, half the time all you needed to do was look at him and you're ready to pounce. but the one thing that made you worked up without a shadow of a doubt?

watching him interact with kids.

there was something about the way matt was playing with your cousins, nieces and nephews right now that was getting you. . . for lack of better words, aroused. last year, you visited his dad for father's day, but this year it was your turn to bring him home. your dad wanted a big dinner with his family and everyone happily obliged, and when it was over, matt couldn't resist when the younger children begged him to play with them.

the way he feigned defeat whenever they'd tackle him to the way he'd kindly scold them whenever they were being too rough. it was down right attractive, and the minute you guys got back to your apartment, you were determined to let him know just how much you loved it.

your hips grind against his, burying his cock deeper into you as you set a slow yet passionate pace. matt was flat on his back, his jaw slacked as he stared up at you in lust, awe and admiration. his hands were everywhere–gripping your waist, occasionally cupping your tits that bounced, but never taking control. you insisted that tonight you were going to take care of him. he's so in love with you, how could he deny you?

“doin’ s-so good. . . jus’ like that,” he praised breathlessly, his hands returning to your thighs as he held back his impending orgasm. he wanted you to cum first– you always came first and he didn't want to ruin it by getting you off him.

you practically purred at his praise, your hands continuing to clutch at his shoulders, your nails leaving indents behind. his words encouraged you to keep your pace, alternating between bouncing and grinding in a way that had him a whimpering mess beneath you.

but you knew that he was holding back and right now, you wanted nothing more than for him to lose it. “c’mon, baby. cum for me.”

matt shook his head mindlessly, too fucked out to verbally protest as another whine left his lips, his eyes squeezing shut as he desperately tried to hold back. he could feel his dick twitch and throb inside you and he tried to lift you up before he released within your slick walls, but you planted yourself back on him. “nuh uh. cum in me. lemme feel it.”

that got him to open his eyes real fast. he looked up at you with a sense of confusion and arousal, his hands now grabbing your waist. “w-what? pretty, i’m n-not wearing a co–”

“cum in me, matt. please. need it,” you panted out almost desperately, now riding him harder just to make him lose his edge, holding back your own noises of enjoyment. “want it so bad. wanna get pregnant, give you a kid. god, you'll be the b-best dad. please–cum in me.”

he didn't need to be told twice. he let himself go freely, shooting thick spurts inside you with a loud groan. you were more than satisfied now, letting yourself come around him, milking and squeezing him for all his worth. after your orgasm, you thought he'd be done, that you were both fully satisfied. but then he was flipping you over and nestling between your legs.

“gonna make you the prettiest mama. wanna make me a dad, huh?” he mumbled, his words full of promise before he started fucking into you again. “c'mon, give it to me, baby.”

after all— he's so in love with you, how could he deny you?

A/N happy father's day to yall who still got daddies and stuff. i personally don't celebrate today, but i will be celebrating with dilf!matt 😛

divider by @bernardsbendystraws !

[ruinix]

Hi, lovelies. Thank you for the new Lukey requests!!! 😘 However, @ajuice-matts sent such whorish thoughts as soon as Lukey photo dump dropped!! Her thots are included IN the fic with lots of my own spins. This is like a collab 🤩💙💙💙 Also, watch me write more thoughts for Lukey as a reward for his good photo dump. Sucks for you, Quinnifer! jk...

In Summer

Summary: Being left behind in the lakehouse, you spent your day resting, while Hugheses went golfing. When Luke arrived home, he can't stop himself from feeling horny by the way you look.

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Mentioned Oral Sex (f receiving), Unprotected Sex, Tanlines (idk if i need to put it here lmao), Dual POV.

Count: 3002 words | Masterlist | Taglist

You stretch underneath the covers, yawning to shake off the of your sleep. When you sit up, you instantly remember Luke and the rest of the Hugheses are off golfing. You purposedly stay, because you are so spent after last night. You put all the blame on Luke who has spent hours eating you out.

He didn't even fuck you, choosing to hump the bed and fuck his fist, praising you for every time you released on his tongue. It was so hard to keep your voice low. You were biting at your pillow, at your knuckle, while Luke aggressively sucked your clit, gulping your arousal and your cum, fucking your pussy with his three long and thick fingers.

You can still feel  the delightful ache between your legs. You can still feel his dried up cum on your leg, when you sit up. Automatically, your eyes trail to the nightstand and see the note he left. Luke always writes you letters and notes whenever he leaves when you're asleep. With a smile on your lips, swinging your legs over the edge, you pick and pen the neatly folded note.

Luke's handwriting is a mess but not too messy to be negligible. It's cute. it said:

"Good Morning, sweetheart. We're off to golf. I prepared you a plate for breakfast. I also made sandwiches for lunch, just in case. I love you. -Luke"

As always, your stomach does the flips when you read those three words, your fingers tracing over them. You feel warm, incredibly so and giddy, that you can't stop yourself from kissing over his name, your cheeks burning. You love him too. Extremely.

The letter is a massive energy boost for the day. You send Luke a text that you're awake, instantly envisioning his soft smile when he reads it.

Then you took a very long shower. While conditioning your hair, you decide what you want to do for the day.

˚｡⋆ ❀ ˖ ❀ ˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

Luke grins when he receives your text. He loves it whenever you sleep in because it means he exhausted you. He can't help it. You taste so good on his tongue.

Although, your pathetic attempt to silence your moans were ineffective, because Jack glared at him during breakfast, ranting about common decency to keep it the fuck down especially at two in the morning. He probably needs to put the soundproofing foam on the wall again, because the conversation is so awkward. Everybody knows exactly who Jack was ranting about, because Luke's the only one with a girlfriend over. Quinn laughed, snickering like an absolute fool, muttering his disbelief and relief that he doesn't share a wall with Luke. His Mom and Dad were both shaking their heads, trying to make him feel better by not entertaining Jack's rants and averting their gazes.

It was embarrassing for his family to be up in his business. And of course, Jack didn't ease, turning the whole rant into outright teasing. Luke could only sigh his defeat then, standing up to fix you a plate of breakfast and preparing a few various sandwiches for you, while the tips of his ears turning absolutely red. He was burning, only calming down when he scribbled on a note for you, even more when he pressed a kiss on your cheek that had you mumbling and calling his name.

"What are you grinning about, huh?" Jack asks, steering right, following Quinn's golf cart where their parents are.

"She's awake," Luke softly says, typing his good morning greeting for you.

"Ah," Jack nods. "Tell her I say good morning." A long stretch of silence comes down on both of them. "You better mind your noise, Luke. I was trying to sleep."

"Stop bringing it up, man," Luke groans, flushing hard, fighting off Jack's elbow that's nudging his abdomen.He grumbles, "Just drop it. What the fuck."

They bicker. Luke goes on about his privacy and that his brother better not tease you, while Jack rants whatever he said during breakfast and threatens that he'll only tease Luke. By the time they pulled over, they're, once again, enveloped in a long and awkward silence.

Jack quietly says, "I'm gonna help you set up your foam boards."

"Okay, thanks," is all Luke can reply.

˚｡⋆ ❀ ˖ ❀ ˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

After your shower and breakfast, you throw all your used clothes and Luke's in laundry bags and into their washing machine. You give yourself a pat on the back for doing the chore that Luke's doing every other day.

When you change into your bikini, you realize you have got nothing else to wear. All your coverups are stuffed into a specific flower-printed laundry net and none of your clothes feel the right vibe. So, you find yourself rummaging through Luke's closet—through his part because he made space for you—cheering victoriously when you spot a cute short-sleeved button up that'll pair well with your bikini.

You stuff your bag with your book, sunblock and the sandwiches Luke made for you before you go to the dock with a towel in your arms.

"Just gonna swim," you text Luke as you settle your things on your reclined chair.

"Be careful, sweets," he instantly replies.

You enjoy your alone time. After days of full socializing with the Hugheses, you need it. It's not like you don't like hanging out with them. You just need to be alone, to recharge, to swim, to sunbathe, and to progress with your reading list.

So, you do.

˚｡⋆ ❀ ˖ ❀ ˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

Luke still feels work up and high from golf after winning against his brothers as he pulls into the driveway. It's always competitive with his family. And he won.

Every moment from your mini updates, he's losing it. He wants to hug you, to kiss you, to just be with you. Several hours feel like an eternity without you. Maybe he should've dragged you with them. Maybe. He misses you so much.

He doesn't bother with his equipment, planning to go straight to where you are, freezing when he hears you. He finds you greeting hia parents, waving at his brothers, as they head in. You turn towards him, smiling at him. You look amazing. Holy shit.

He quickly grabbed his golf bag, discretely putting it over his fucking hard-on, because he can't be normal.

Not when you're wearing nothing but your bikini and his shirt. Not when your hair looks messy—in a good way while slightly damp. Not when your skin is literally glowing with a tan that looks incredibly good on you. Not when his eyes keep getting drawn to the way your tits look fucking delectable by the way you put on your bikini on. Not when he notices the flush dusting your cheeks as you stare at him with those eyes.

He gulps hard. His mouth feels dry as fuck as you made your way to him. As your hand nudges the bag away, he drops it to the side. As your hands grip his shirt, running over his chest, his abdomen, sliding around to give him a hug.

He instantly holds you, melting into your arms, kissing your head, pressing his nose over your hair, breathing you in. You smell like the sun and your sweet-smelling sunblock lotion.

As you hug him tighter, he knew that he's fucked.

You slightly parted from him so you can look up to meet his darkening gaze, keeping your bodies tightly together. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," he says, his voice dropping a couple of octaves deeper. "Did you?"

"Mmhmm." You nod. Your innocent smile turns into a smirk, mischief glinting in your eyes, as you press against him firmer. "I feel you, Lukey."

Luke grits his teeth, his hand moving over your ass, giving you a playful squeeze, groaning at your silent moan. He can feel the lines of your skimpy bikini. He wonders how your tan lines look—

With the sound of your name being called, he remembers where he is, where both of you are. He huffs when you push off him, pouting when you pat his chest to appease him.

"Honey, what do you like for dinner?" His mom asks you.

Luke turns away, hiding his situation, not bothering joining the conversation, greedily taking in the softness and cheeriness of your voice while talking to his mom. You're so sweet and adorable.

He takes his stuff in, untucking his shirt to hide his hardon, trying to shake away his arousal. He is failing miserably, especially when you walk in, brushing your hair over your shoulder, his eyes homing to your tits again. They look incredible. A hundred out of ten or something.

Why the fuck is he suddenly rating your tits instead of looking away?

He needs to calm the fuck down.

He pours a glass of water, even going as far as putting ice in it. He drinks it—downs it like he's been thirsty for days—only for you pop up next to him, your hand sliding over his back. Shivers run down his spine. He swallows his groan, his eyes slamming shut, when your other hand grips over his so you can drink from his cup.

"Thanks, Lukey," you giggle, sounding so innocent when you're not, stepping away with your hands behind your back.

He's done. Luke looks around, finding his family outside, watching you spin around to head there. Oh, no, you're not going to run away. Not after you teased him.

He grabs your hand, signaling you to shut it with a finger to his lips. Your eyes sparkle when he tugs you to the nearest bathroom, making sure no one notices as he pushes you in, clicking the lock in place. He wastes no time slamming you against the door, kissing you, sliding his tongue past your lips, shuddering at the taste of mint on your tongue. It's just mint yet he can't get enough. It's never enough. It won't ever be.

He grinds his hard-on on you, groaning when your fingers tug at his curls like you want to pull them from their roots. He doesn't mind. Everything he has is yours anyway.

"You should be quiet," he says as he traces his kisses to your jaw, down to your neck, pushing your—his—shirt over one shoulder. "Okay?" He licks along the column of your neck, groaning when you nod. "That's my good girl, but we'll see." He teases the strap of your bikini, marveling at the tan line on your skin. "You're beautiful."

"Oh, Luke," you shudder as he moves you to bend over the counter, making you plant your hands on the counter. Your eyes meet his in the reflection, gasping when he grinds on your clothed pussy, whining when his huge hands palm your tits. "Please. I wanna touch you too."

"Later." He tugs the string of your top, watching how your tits spill out. Your nipples turned into pebbled peaks as he tugs and plays with them. Nipping your earlobes, kissing your neck, he grins when you grind back, biting your lip so hard. "Love your tan."

"T-thanks," you stumble on your word, sighing and whining as he lets go of your tits. "No, touch me. Touch me, Luke."

"Quiet," he shushes, straightening to discard his shirt because it's fucking hot, gripping your hips to keep you from moving. "I told you not to tease me." He licks his lips as he slides a finger under your bikini bottoms, lightly tugging it from your skin to see the tan lines on your ass. "Such a skimpy bikini. Exactly what a tease would wear, huh?"

"It's a style." You panted, sweat dripping down your temple. "A vibe."

Luke chuckles, sliding your bikini to the side, his eyes never leaving yours, smirking when you let out a whimper.

"Sure, a vibe," he nods, almost laughing at how your eyebrows curved like you're going to cry any moment. He undoes his shorts while sliding his fingers along your folds. "So fucking wet.Is this a vibe too?" He grazed your clit that has you standing on your toes. "It must be, right?"

He can feel your pussy quivering as he slides his aching cock against your glistening folds, feeling your pussy leaking and coating his cock. You feel so good and he's still inside you. Why didn't he fuck you last night? He missed out.

As he slides into your heat, he swears he can still taste your pussy. Later. He can eat you out again later.

He fucks into you hard, shuddering at the feel of your pussy around his cock. Every tremble, every quiver, every fucking squeeze is sending his mind into a frenzy especially as your moans freely spill out.

With the hand he used to feel your pussy, he cranes your head towards him. "Sweetheart. Fuck, you need to be quiet," he groans, before kissing you, swallowing your pathetic whines. "Quiet." Luke is saying that to you but also to himself.

You two are noisy. The obscene wet sound of skin slapping is loud as much as your mixed groans and moans. It's music to his ears. You are both bound to be caught, but the more he fucks you, the more he doesn't care.

"You feel so good," he groans into your shoulder, his hand engulfing one of yours, fingers intertwining.His other hand presses over your lower abdomen. "So good, sweetheart."

You sob, nodding helplessly, as you fuck into him. "Please, Luke." Your walls do the familiar pulses that signify your impending release. "I'mclosei'msoclosesoclose. Pleasepleaseplease."

"I know." He kisses your neck, rolling his hips, fucking you harder and harder, wincing as his cock grows impossibly harder for every fucking stroke. "I got you. Just let go. I'm here."

And just like that, you come, your walls clenching around him like vice, drawing his own orgasm, making his eyes darken at the edges. Every spurt of his cum into your greedy pussy has him gasping for breath, has him desperate for more kisses, has him whining to have your lips on his.

"Kiss me, please. Please," he begs, sighing when you do. He rests his forehead against yours, feeling so warm as your breaths mix. "I love you."

"I love you too, Lukey." You smile, kissing the tip of his nose. "So much."

"So much," he echoes, clumsily fixing your bikini top and your shirt, biting his lip at the slightest clench of your pussy. "Where'd you get this?" He asks about the shirt as a distraction as he pulls out of you.

Both of you gasp. Luke can barely think straight when you immediately fixed your bottoms, not letting any of his cum spill. He gulps his curse, because his cock twitches, starting to harden pathetically, as he tucks himself into his briefs, fixing his shorts. Yeah, he may need to lock himself in his room. He's still fucking horny. No way he's going to think about anything other than his cum in your pussy. Are you insane? Do you know what you do to him—

"It was tucked next to your university shirts. Do you like it on me, Lukey?" You say as you fix your bikini top, your face looking freshly fucked in the most beautiful way.

"Yes." Luke gulps, freezing when you snatch his phone from his pocket. "What are you doing?" He glances at his discarded shirt.

"Let's take a picture." You grin.

Luke learns not to question you. He barely has any time to because you're already pointing the camera to the mirror. Hurriedly, he slides his arms around you, his back slumping as he tries to hide behind you. That makes you laugh, so he buries his face in your hair, peeking out as you snap your pictures.

"Why are you acting shy, Lukey?" You chuckle, your hand patting his. "You just fucked me."

He shakes his head, refusing to answer your silly question, because it is silly and he feels so annoyed with himself because the pictures look great and it is making him turned on. Again!

He's about to say something when someone—Jack—knocks on the door like he's planning to kick it down. "Are you both serious?! Get out!"

"Ugh, he's so annoying," Luke groans, turning on the exhaust, grumbling when you take his shirt and help him put it on. "He's being annoying since morning."

"Yeah?" You oblige his rant, quickly spraying a raspberry-scented air freshener.

"Yes." He crosses his arms, leaning his hip against the counter, marveling how you fixing your hair. Louder, he repeats, "He's so annoying!"

"I heard that!" Jack shouts back. "Get out! I need to fucking pee."

"There are literally other bathrooms, Jack," Luke grits.

"I want to pee in this one. Keep you both from doing bad things!" Jack yells to which Luke rolls his eyes at. "Get. Out."

You laugh, squeezing Luke's cheek, before you tug at his hand. You whisper, "Let's head up."

Just like that his frown eases. Jack, being annoying, finally stops pressing on his nerves. He follows you, ignoring his brother who's ranting about fuck knows what, not minding anything else other than you. You're the only one important in his eyes.

When your steps hasten, his does too.

When you lock his door, you let go of his hand to head to his bed, sitting on the edge with your legs crossing. Then your eyes signaled him to come, so he does.

When you point at your feet, he drops to his knees.

His hands find your shins, guiding them to uncross and to spread so he can get closer to where you want him, because he knows what you want him to do.

His mouth waters as you slide your bikini bottoms to the side like he did.

Then he dives in.

Horribly, no beta / no proofread. Word count coming in the morning. I typed it directly here.

Lovelies @dancerbailey3 @loser-pretty-girl @tiredallthetimex @quinnintheabyss @r0wdymaize86 @macka @hughesmybaby @hockeygirlyyyy @siennaluvshcky @arty-anon @hodgepodge-musings @alwaysclassyeagle @bellaione @svexhenthusiast @starrymari

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[strnilolover]

In love with stepbrother Matt! Also a big fan of him being mean lol. I’m imagining them on a family road trip. Three row van. Them all the way in the back. Music up loud. Matt initiating since it’s been a week since they’ve messed around. Reader being scared since their parents are up front. He keeps his hand around over her mouth to keep her quiet. Him threatening to get them caught if she doesn’t stop holding back her orgasm. Also results in her squirting for the first time as he cream pies her.

⌗ . . . ON THE ROAD

WARNINGS : PUBLIC (in the car with other people in it). SMUT. THREATENING TO GET CAUGHT. FINGERING. HAND JOB.

i changed this just a little bit cause i already had an idea in mind for something like this, and i feel like them fucking with everyone in there might be more obvious and such.

the backseat was too cramped. you had a few things to your left side—things that didn’t fit anywhere else in the car which made you get pushed closer to matt.

your leg was touching his, the blanket you had brought was draped over both of your laps. initially you wanted the blanket because of the ac and how chilly it was getting in the car—but—matt decided he wanted to share.

which you were okay with—but the thought of being this close with your whole family in the car made your brain short circuit. no one had figured out you and matt were sleeping with one another, and that was a good thing.

that didn’t mean your nerves weren’t racing anytime you were too close to him, afraid your mom or his dad would take one good look at you both and know what was going on.

you could feel how warm his body was against yours, the place where your leg was touching his felt like it was on fire. and honestly—you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about what happened your last family trip. when he touched you and let his hands wander everywhere.

you tried to ignore the growing heat curling inside your stomach—right now wasn’t the time for that. i mean you couldn’t—right?—not with everyone in here. so you looked out the window, listening to the hum of the tires on the highway being drowned out by smaller sounds. the music up front keeping your mom and step dad distracted.

you took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the feeling. but you felt matt shifted just slightly next to you—and it was like your whole focus shattered. his thigh was pressed harder into yours under the blanket. you turned your head to look at him, finding his gaze looking forward and not at you. but then… your eyes caught the way his hand landed on your knee.

and you froze.

he didn’t even look at you. he just kept his gaze looking forward, watching whatever thing passed by next. he was acting as if he wasn’t doing anything wrong—like his fingers weren’t slowly starting to slide up your leg, moving to the inside of your thigh.

your whole body reacted quickly—the heat blooming in your stomach like a match to gasoline. you flicked your eyes up front quickly, afraid someone’s eyes might catch what was going on, even if it was so subtle. but your mom was bobbing her head to the music and your step dad was focused on the road. chris was in the middle row with his headphones in, scrolling on his phone, not paying attention to anyone.

still, even after making sure no one was watching—your heart raced like you were about to get caught red-handed. “matt.” you hissed as his hand went higher, and you turned your head just slightly toward him.

his lips were curled into a dirty grin. he knew what you were feeling—could feel how tense you were under his hand. but he didn’t turn his head until a moment later, cocking a brow at you. “you gonna stop me?” he mocked, knowing damn well you couldn’t and didn’t want to already.

matt watched as your gaze flicked away for a moment and he hummed, giving you a silent answer of ‘that’s what i thought’ before his hand made its way hight to the waistband of your shorts. his fingers slipped under the band of your shorts—under the blanket, hidden from view. gently his fingers inched closer and closer until he pressed them right over your soaked panties.

the lacy material wet and clinging to your folds. matt hissed at the feelings, pressing his fingers down a little. “so wet sweetheart.” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

“I—I,” you stammered, the words dying on your tongue your hips shifted into his hand, grinding down on it. you were embarrassed at how easily he could make you wet, even when he wasn’t touching you. he loved how easily you caved for him, it was like you couldn’t resist having his hands all over you.

he quickly slipped two fingers under the damp fabric, finding your clit with practiced ease. your hands clenched the edge of the blanket, teeth biting your bottom lip so hard you swore you’d break skin. you couldn’t help but let your gaze dart up again. chris was still on his phone.

and when your gaze shifted to your mom—she turned around slightly to ask something, and you immediately sat straighter, heart pounding against your chest. but she didn’t seem to notice anything—just smiled and asked chris to pass you a water bottle before turning back.

matt’s fingers hadn’t stopped when chris grabbed a bottle from the cold bag you guys had brought with for snacks and drinks. in fact, he moved down to push two fingers deeper into you as soon as chris looked at you.

your lips had parted slightly, a small noise almost escaping your lips but you held it together. you let a shaky hand come up, grabbing the bottle from chris and giving him and smile the best you could before he turned back around.

his fingers moved slow, curling up with that perfect drag that made your legs jerk. you whimpered quietly, the noise barely audible unless you were listening for it. which matt was—he knew you had a hard time staying quiet sometimes.

“shhh.” he cooed, leaning his body towards yours just a little more than it already was. “you want them to hear you back here, sweetheart?” you shook your head, but your eyes fluttered shut. it was pathetic that you were so close already, your body rocking against his hand in tiny, desperate movements. you could feel the orgasm building.

matt noticed, watching how you humped his hand now, rubbing your clit against the palm of his hand as his fingers fucked you deep. but he wasn’t gonna let you cum yet—so he stilled his fingers, removing them from you.

you gasped, eye snapping open and blinking wide at him in disbelief. he leaned in, a smile on his face—not the nice kind, no—he was being mean and he knew it. “not yet. want you to help me now, baby. want us to finish together. can y’do that baby?”

and your heart punched your ribcage. just the thought of having your hand wrapped around him while his fingers were buried inside you made you flush—your hips grinding down against the seat a little. and so you nodded, panting softly as you waited.

gently his hand moved to your own, guiding it over to his lap beneath the blanket. you hadn’t even realized how hard he’d gotten—his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. your eyes flicked up front again. everyone still looked distracted. the music was loud enough. and you took that as a good enough sign that you guys were okay.

when your attention turned back to matt, your hand fumbled for just a second with the button on his jeans, then unzipped him, freeing his cock into your hand. he was already leaking onto your hand and the first swipe of your thumb across his tip, the action making him hiss quietly.

“stroke me.” he whispered, before moving his hand back into your shorts, into your panties before curling two of his fingers back into your cunt. you whined softly, sucking in a breath. “match me, okay? we cum together, or I make you wait till we get to the motel.”

your breath hitched at that—the motel was still two hours away—surely he wouldn’t do that? but it was matt. you knew how mean he could be. you wouldn’t put it past him to not stick to his word.

so you started to move your hand in time with the rhythm of his fingers—slow but tight, your thumb teasing the sensitive head of him with every stroke. it was the hottest thing, watching the way his teeth dug into his bottom lip when you squeezed your hand just tight enough around him and when you gave the head of his cock more attention.

by now you were both panting—barely audible but frantic. your eyes flicking up to everyone every once in a while to make sure no one would catch what you guys were doing. but every time you did—your walls clamped down around his fingers more. you did like the idea of getting caught, just the thought of it was making the band in your stomach tighter with each passing minute.

“i can feel you clenching.” he murmured. “you gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl while you jerk me off? hm?” and You nodded fast, your lips parting in silent gasps. still—you looked forward once again. chris had changed songs. your mom and step dad were arguing over directions.

it was still safe—barely.

your attention was drawn back to matt when you felt the way he throbbed in your hold. feeling the way his body began to tense under your hand. “don’t stop.” matt gritted, his lips parting as he looked down at his lap where your hand was moving under the blanket—he wished he could lift it up and watch. “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

so you sped up, moving your hand faster over his cock as his fingers sped up inside you, hitting your spot over and over again until your thighs began to shake. the band in your stomach became incredibly tight, your free hand coming up to your mouth as you bit your knuckles to stay silent as you came around his fingers. your eyes rolling back. but that didn’t slow your hand.

matt hissed, his hips twitching up to fuck your fist as he cursed under his breath. quiet “fuckfuckfuck” slipping past his lips before his cock twitched in your hand and hot spurts of cum spilled over your fingers as he came.

you both sat there for a moment, flushed and gasping, the air around you thick with heat and adrenaline. your eyes were growing heavy, flicking between matt and everyone else—making sure no one was looking still.

it was a moment before matt leaned in, mouth barely grazing your temple in a light kiss. he couldn’t not give you a kiss—you did so well for him. gently he took the blanket and used it to wipe up whatever mess that was made and you. you’ll just have to wash it later, but you didn’t mind.

and then—just like that—he zipped himself back up. moving the blanket to an area that wasn’t between you two and opened his arms up.

surely they wouldn’t mind if you cuddled him—he is your step brother after all…they’d see it as getting along.

a/n : need him now.

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

It's been interesting coming into Campaign 2 as a newcomer whose been hanging around in the fandom for a minute because it means I'd heard the criticisms of the early campaign as being "directionless", but eight episodes in it's really ringing as untrue? Like the Mighty Nein have had clear goals and motivations the entire time, even if they're as simple as "Caleb wants to visit a large city with a good bookstore" or "Jester wants to find her dad but in the absence of concrete leads (though she does have a ledger of her mother's clients, of which her dad was one) has decided to make it her mission to help Fjord reach and enter the Soltryce Academy" or "Beau thinks the Baumbauchs are dicks so she stole their mail and found herself fascinated by this one contact called 'The Gentleman'".

What I think people were clocking about these early episodes, and describing as "directionlessness" was actually the lack of a big central Plot Goal that all the characters were working towards. The Nein at this stage of their careers aren't working to stop any wars or cults or slavers or sentient cities, they're traveling together because being together is convenient and all their individual goals are pointing them in the same direction (or no direction in particular so might as well stay with the group). Whereas the early episodes of Campaign 1 had the Plot Goal of "find and rescue Lady Kima" and, once that was achieved, "help Kima recover the Horn of Orcus". The individual members of Vox Machina had their own personal motivations that intersected with this common plot goal, but it served as something the whole group was reaching towards. The early Mighty Nein episodes don't have the same sort of overarching plot framework, as Matt opened up the world after the initial run of episodes in Trostenwald and left it to the players to decide where the pursuit of their individual goals would take them.

But every character pursuing an individual goal did give the early Mighty Nein a direction; they were all pulling towards something and making choices in hopes of being brought closer to it, even if those goals varied between the group's members. The absence of a Plot Goal didn't result in the group having no direction. Indeed, as Campaign 3 would later demonstrate, the presence of a Plot Goal doesn't guarantee a group will have direction. It's the ability of the characters to turn motivations into goals and actions that creates this momentum.

[mattluvr]

⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut matt sturniolo oneshot !

( dad!dom!matt with a raging breeding kink, oral — f!receiving, edging, dirty talk, praise )

matt wants another baby.

you do not. even if the sex to conceive your daughter had been some of the best you two had ever had, the dirty words matt had uttered that night still engraved into your brain, you’re adamant that you don’t want another child.

your daughter, now two years old and goddamn adorable, wreaks havoc at every opportunity, despite her angelic appearance; your brunette ringlets and matt’s bright blue eyes she’s inherited are a mere deception.

so often, when you and matt clamber into bed after a long day trying to prevent your kid from seriously injuring herself, you’re too tired to even entertain the idea of sex, let alone trying for another baby.

but today is your fifth anniversary with your boyfriend, whose insanely annoying charm has managed to change your perspective on a second pregnancy in the space of a romantic dinner at an italian restaurant.

so now you’re laid on your bed, spread eagled as matt kisses the burning flesh of your collarbones, your dress unzipped and being rolled down teasingly slowly. you moan into the thick air as one of his hands comes down to tweak your nipple through the flimsy material of the lingerie set you’d specially chosen; blue, his favourite colour.

“shit, matt.” you mumble, arching your back into his touch with a low moan. “makin’ me feel so good.”

“that right?” matt smirks, pinching your nipple harder to push your stimulation. you whine in response, stretching your neck to the side to invite matt to make more marks, not having to restrict the sounds pouring out of your mouth.

on the rare occasion that the pair of you share moments of intimacy, it’s rushed and usually restricted to mutual masturbation to reduce the risk of your daughter walking in and being scarred for life. but she’s staying with uncle chris and uncle nick, who are most likely feeding her way too much ice cream past her bedtime, so you don’t have to worry about anybody walking in.

“so fucking good.”

matt smiles, pleased with himself, and hungrily removes your dress completely, practically drooling at the full lingerie set reveal. he works quickly to pull the straps of your bra down, hands reaching round the back of you to undo the clasp, the tips of his fingers calloused but gentle. then, matt works on your panties, trimmed with baby blue lace, pulling them down, the material tickling your skin.

you buck your hips up as all three pieces of material float to the foot of the bed, starting to become impatient. you crave matt’s dick inside you, core pulsating as your boyfriend begins to move away from your chest, pressing kisses along your stomach until his mouth is level with your heat.

he doesn’t wait a second; lips are latched onto your clit before you have a chance to register what’s going on, a loud whine erupting from your throat as you let your head fall back on the pillow behind you. matt hasn’t eaten you out in months, and you’ve forgotten how talented he can be with his tongue.

as soon he latches onto your swollen clit, oozing arousal, you start to feel the familiar pit of longing form at the bottom of your stomach, close to release already. embarrassing; you must’ve been overly sensitive, making you easy to push to the edge, matt’s harsh kitten licks over your pulsing bud not helping matters.

your boyfriend picks up the pace of his ministrations against your bundle of nerves, gripping your thighs tighter as you begin to shake, on the verge of releasing. “matt,” you warn, whimpers spilling past your lips. “i’m close.”

“already?” his degrading tone and the laughter that follows only heightens your embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. immediately, matt is jumping to remove them, one hand lingering to grip your jaw. he sighs before diving back in, his next words muffled. “fine, just make it a good one.”

but as soon as he gives you permission, your orgasm right fucking there, matt pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“matt!” you cry out, using your thigh to hit his head, mouth wide open in disbelief. “i can’t believe you just did that.”

“don’t talk back to me.” he hisses, the hand that was still loosely on your jaw now squeezing your lips shut. you rarely see the dominant side of him this extreme, glad that he’s restricting your words in your state of speechless.

“you can cum once i’ve fucked this second baby into you. no complaints.”

and then he starts thrusting into you, roughly and relentlessly; you hadn’t even noticed him slip his lower garments off, pushing his way inside you, suddenly aware of how he fills you up and the pleasure you’re receiving from his length and girth.

you moan, legs instinctively widening, the sensitivity of being edged mere seconds before still raging, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap. matt is also getting sloppy, his thrusts weak as he struggles to restrain his release. he still has his hand pressed firmly against your jaw, muffling all your noises as you edge close to your orgasm.

“fu-uck.” matt’s breath hitches, his eyes trained on you as he pumps in and out; he already looks fucked out, his hair sticking to his forehead. “you gonna let me make you pregnant again? huh?”

you nod, eyebrows drawing together, the pleasure overbearing. you need to cum and you need cum now. matt is still whispering dirty things in your ear is he hovers over you, the boy’s legs shaking yours. “i’m gonna cum soon, baby, okay? you’re not gonna let a drop out.”

you nod again, your whole body tensing in your effort to hold back your orgasm. you’re willing matt to hurry up, silently due to matt’s continued clamped hand, the bed creaking mercilessly.

“oh, right there.” matt groans, his orgasm now on the edge too; you can feel it in his body movements. “god, sweetheart, i’m gonna…”

he trails off, head thrown back, hand dropping from your chin as he braces himself on either side of you. “cum!”

and he does, messily but in strong waves, painting your insides white with guttural moans. and, with your mouth finally freed, you’re able to orgasm as loud as you want, your body shaking as your high rolls over you.

once you’ve both come down from your shared peaks, matt pulls out of you, using his index finger to push the cum that trailed out after him back up into you; he evidently wants that second baby more than anything, and whilst you’re exhausted looking after one, there’s nobody you’d rather have multiple kids with than the boy now collapsed by your side, panting.

in your tangle of bare skin, you caress your boyfriend’s cheek, your words a soft whisper. “i’m excited now.”

“for what?” matt raises a quizzical eyebrow, placing the hand that had been gripping your jaw roughly minutes before over yours.

“for our daughter to have a sibling, duh. if we’re not pregnant after that, then i want a refund.”

and matt’s smile in response could’ve lit up a million stars.

[phone4pills]

PENCIL SKIRT dad!Matt x nanny!Reader

smut, back shots, standing doggy, mirror sex, degradation, breeding kink

The bathroom mirror reflected each tear on your face, as if to mock you for being so sensitive. Each pull on your hair, each harsh and merciless thrust had your insides twisting and turning. “Mr Sturniolo-” You chocked out his name, your grip hardening around the edge of the bathroom sink, the porcelain ceramic being the only thing keeping you grounded.

Meanwhile, Matthew Sturniolo didn’t hold back. He grunted, grabbing your hip with the hand that wasn’t buried in your hair. Your knees were almost completely useless, and if it weren’t for your position, bent over the sink, you did not think you’d still be standing on your two feet. Your usually neat, black pencil skirt was rolled up to you waist and your panties hung low around your heels.

White pre-cum leaked from Matt’s tip into your warmth, dripping on the floor every split-second he pulled out before burying his length within you again. “So wet f’me, yeah? Not very professional of you, is it?” Your eyelids closed tight, ears catching each groan that rippled from his throat. “Is it, y/n?!” Matthew asked again, more sternly. You shook you head quickly. He picked up his pace, slamming into you harder than ever. “Be a good girl and use those words, hm?”

“No… not p-profes- ahh.” A breathy moan escaped your lips when he bottomed out, bruising your cervix. Each callous noise increased in volume, until Matthew was pulling his hand out of your hair to cover your mouth, slapping your cheek slightly. “Shh, don’t want the girls to hear, do we now?” You shook your head again, mumbling a ‘nuh uh’ before he chuckled. You looked pathetic, your mascara was a black mess under your eyes and your mouth hung slack.

Your clit was rubbing against the cold surface of the counter, giving you more pleasure than you thought you could handle. The tightness in your stomach began to break loose, and Matthew knew because your eyes rolled back into your head. Your back arched into his grip and soon enough, you came undone, turning into a moaning mess. But Matt kept going, chasing his own high.

“M- Matt…” You whispered into his palm. He didn’t like it. His hand landed a slap on your ass. “You know not to call me that. So naughty… you don’t deserve this do ya?”

You found your head shaking again, submitting to his viciously laced words. “Say it, y/n. Look in the mirror and say it.” You struggled to hold eye contact with yourself in the reflective glass framed on the wall in front of you. Nevertheless, you abided. “I d-don’t deserve this!” Your words were slightly muffled but they were enough to have Matthew tipping over the edge. As his cock started to twitch inside of you, he hissed.

“You want me to fill you up with my babies?” Leaning in to speak next to your ear, his voice was sickeningly sweet. You nodded giving him a hoarse ‘yes please’ before his movements came to a halt and Matthew pumped you full of his white fluids.

You straightened down your skirt, taking a deep breath, and laid Matt’s warm towel on the counter, folded neatly. He’d gotten to his shower in the end, letting the hot steam roam the air, fogging up the mirror. “Tell the girls to get dressed. Think m’gonna take them out to get ice cream.” His relaxed voice reverberated off the walls of the space. And with that, you left, shutting the door behind you.

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack

This is probably my last piece of smut for a while, no nut November is coming up and I gotta lock in with some fluff and angst. Love this AU to death, might write more for it in the future but until then you can see other Matt fics in my MASTERLIST. Thanks for reading!

- ©phone4pills

[sturnsbananas]

𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏⭐️

𝑨 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃★

read part 2- here

stepbro!matt x stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsister

★★!!NOT FUCKING INCEST!!★★ don’t read if your panties easily get in a twist, or do i don’t control you.

summary- your stepbrothers get handsy with you under the dinner table.

heavily inspired by this thought i had, but had to make it stepbroey bc im slutty like that.

your new stepbrothers sat on each side of you, picking at their dinner plate as they engaged in conversation with your dad and their mom. they had just came back from the gym and they were wearing those tight compression shirts that squeezed their biceps so good.

their big veiny hands gripping their eating utensils as they eat, making you subtly squeeze your thighs together. trying to make your obvious staring, not so obvious.

as much as you hated the both of them, you couldn’t deny that they were utterly hot. fuck it made you so wet thinking about them in their tight compression shirts and how it hugged onto their muscles for dear life. it was even better when they had just gotten back from the gym. sweat still present on their forehead, the faded musk of their woodsy cologne on their skin.

being this close to them at the dinner table and smelling the subtle musk of their faded cologne was driving you insane.

matt and chris look over at you and then at eachother. your glance quickly meeting your dinner plate, trying to play off your clear as day eye-fucking.

you pick at your food, feeling the both of their eyes on you, staring a hole into your head. you try to act as if you were oblivious, but they knew damn well what was going on.

you then butt into the topics of the table including your dad, your stepmom, and of course matt and chris. but they could care less about what was being discussed.

you try and talk to your dad and stepmom. trying to ease the tingling sensation in between your thighs as you conversed in the conversation. unfortunately for you, that didn’t work, so you just resorted to picking at your food again, immersing in your dirty daydreams once more.

you were mid imagination when your stepbrother chris taps you on the thigh. gosh. why there? your gaze meets his as he redirects his gaze to your legs. “what’re you staring at, weirdo?” you roll your eyes as you look away from him, going back to picking at your food and daydreaming away.

“i could ask you the same thing, slut.” his hot breath sending chills down your spine, making you even more wet. your face turns beet red as you realize your obvious staring got you into trouble.

matt, who was on the other side of you also taps your leg. fuck. why couldn’t they just tap your shoulder? “see something y’like?” he mocks in your ear as he places his hand on your thigh menacingly.

chris looks at him and shoots him a smirk as he too places a hand on your thigh. matt traces circles on your thigh as chris’s hand inches higher up your skirt. your breath hitches in your throat as both of your hands grab their hands and try and pry them off, shooting the both of them daggers with your eyes. evil. pure evil they were.

but the both of them grip your hand before you can even react, their hands practically making yours disappear from how huge they were. earning a subtle whine from you.

“idiots, what if they see?” you mutter under your breath as they laugh mockingly. “so try to keep quiet, brat” matt says through gritted teeth, releasing his grasp on your hand and placing his hand back on your thigh where it previously was.

“y’gonna be good f’us or show your ass in front of y’daddy, hm?” chris coos in your ear as he also releases his grasp on your hand, putting his hand on your thigh as he shoots matt a cocky smirk.

your heart practically stops at his words as you look at your dad and their mom deep in conversation absolutely oblivious as to what is going on, but as your looking chris catches you completely off guard by pulling your panties to the side and stuffing you with his fingers.

your knees jerk up and hit the table, causing the silverware and plates to rattle together causing a big sound.

to which your stepmom and dad both look at you at the same time, worriedly. “everything ok, sweetie?” your stepmother asks. “yeah is everything ok?” your dad asks concerned. chris’s fingers never left your leaky cunt, beginning to move fast in and out of you.

“everything’s fine, d-daddy” you stammer unconvincingly, matt chuckling under his breath as his hand never leaves your thigh, chris’s digits still inside of you, making you want to just murder him then and there.

“are you sure, honey? do you need to be excused?” he asks as he shoots a worried look at your stepmother.

“s’ okay daddy, i’m fine” you manage to speak clearly, adjusting to the feeling of chris’s fingers. “okay sweetie, just making sure” he smiles as he continues the conversation with your stepmother.

you shoot chris a glare as you feel his fingers sliding out of you, feeling a new pair of digits sliding back in your wet slit. “so wet f’ us, how pathetic, hm? we’re ya’ stepbrothers, dirty girl” matt coos as he curls his fingers, earning a quiet whimper from you.

you grab the both of their thighs and grip them, needing to hold on to atleast something to help conceal your pleasure. you thought chris’s fingers felt good, but matt’s? matt’s were even better.

to play off your pleasure, you release your hold on their thighs and pick at your food again, trying to conceal your feelings.

chris who was sitting there smugly, caressed your thigh as matt’s fingers were kissing your cervix so good. you grip his thigh as his fingers slide out of your slick cunt.

you feel yourself edging closer to your orgasm, clenching around his fingers. “yeah? y’close?” his hot breath hits your ear, making you mentally cum from that alone. “mhm…” your needy gaze meets his as you nod, trying to be sneaky.

matt’s mouth opens slightly agape as he gazes into your eyes deeply, his fingers bringing you closer, and closer, and closer, before he pulls them out. making you quietly whimper from lack of contact.

chris too takes his hand off of you as he whispers “don’t stare, it’s rude.” he says mockingly as he and matt go back to eating their food , licking their fingers clean of your juices. leaving you embarrassed and needy.

a/n: happy friday★★

taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @sturns-mermaid @emely9274 @hjvi @chrepsi @chrisstomach @izzylovesmatt

[jibitzlesscrocs]

fluff of Matt being a girl dad and Chris a boy dad

they are literally dilfs holyshit

warnings : drawing on walls?

dads on duty

in which, it’s just chris and matt being dads

When you rolled over, you were greeted by a sight so sweet it made you melt on the spot.

Matt was sitting crisscross on the bedroom floor, in a worn hoodie and pajama pants, surrounded by tiny doll clothes, sparkly accessories, and the proudest three-year-old girl you’d ever seen.

She had a doll in each hand and a determined look on her face. Matt was holding up a third doll, clearly awaiting instruction.

“Okay, Daddy, this one’s going to the ball. But she’s also a spy, so she needs boots under her dress.”

Matt nodded, completely serious. “Got it. Fancy and functional. I respect that.”

You leaned against the doorframe, grinning. “Should I be concerned about how good you are at this?”

Matt looked up at you with a huge smile. “She said I’m the royal stylist-slash-secret agent assistant. I’ve been promoted three times this morning.”

Your daughter turned around. “Mommy! You can be the fairy queen if you want!”

“Well, obviously,” you laughed, coming to sit next to them.

Matt leaned close and whispered in your ear, “I already married a fairy queen, so that checks out.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, then looked down at your little girl, her hair wild from sleep and her eyes shining with excitement.

This—dolls on the floor, bedhead curls, sparkly chaos—was your perfect little kingdom.

And Matt? He ruled it with a tiara and zero shame.

You were humming to yourself as you walked down the hall, blissfully unaware that your peaceful morning was about to take a very colorful turn.

Then you saw it.

A sprawling blue marker mural running from the baseboard up the wall, complete with dinosaurs wearing hats, a rocket ship, and one oddly detailed drawing of what could only be… Chris?

Sunglasses. Backwards hat. Muscles. Stick-figure glory.

You blinked. “No way.”

Just as you opened your mouth, you heard it.

“Quick, hide the markers or I’m telling its you!”

“Hey! I made you! You can’t betray me!”

Two whisper-yelling voices—one small, one… very much grown.

You peeked into the living room and found them huddled under a blanket, wide-eyed and guilty. Your son peeked out first, followed by Chris, both blinking like this is fine, we did nothing.

“…Hi baby,” Chris said innocently, one arm still wrapped around your son like he was trying to shield him from judgment.

You crossed your arms. “Hi. Would either of you like to explain why I just passed a full-scale mural on the hallway wall?”

Your son pointed to Chris. “Daddy said the wall is like big paper!”

Chris gasped. “You said that!”

“Only ‘cause you said the T-Rex needed a cave!”

“I was thinking small cave! Not wall-cave!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Both of you. Timeout. Couch. Now.”

Chris picked your son up, dramatically carrying him like a sack of flour. “This is injustice. We are creative spirits. Artists. Visionaries.”

“Couch,” you repeated, fighting back a laugh.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, flopping onto the couch and pulling your son into his lap. “We’re in art jail.”

Your son giggled and whispered, “I love art jail.”

Chris ruffled his hair. “Me too, buddy.”

You left them there for a few minutes, snuggled up under the blanket, whispering about their next “masterpiece.” Then you reappeared with a peace offering—cookies and little cups of milk.

Both faces lit up instantly.

Chris took a bite,“This is the best punishment ever.”

You sat beside them, brushing a curl from your son’s forehead. “Next time, use paper.”

“But paper’s so small,” your son said with a pout.

Chris leaned over and kissed your cheek. “To be fair… the wall really does make a great canvas.”

You gave him a look. “If I find glitter on the baseboards next time, I’m locking the markers up.”

He grinned and held up a pinky. “Scout’s honor. No glitter murals. Probably.”

Your son gave you a cookie crumb kiss on the cheek. “We’ll draw you next time, Mommy.”

You looked between the two of them—your troublemakers, your soft-hearted boys—and your heart squeezed.

You didn’t get quiet mornings, but you got this. Love, laughter, and crayon-colored chaos.

And honestly? You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

taglist: @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos , @ivysturnss , @imsoborediwannadie , @emeraldsturns , @beabadoobeelvur , @moth-feeet , @lezleeferguson-120 , @theowensturniolo , @leahfaith , @nickysturnss , @mattspillowprincess , @mqttsbunnyies , @passionfruitchris , @emely9274 , @riggysworld

MAI’S STORE

had to write this with this weeks insane photo dump

mwah!

[maylieecxtherine]

childhood bsf! matt letting you sleep in his arms.

divider creds once again to the lovely @bernardsbendystraws !! 🩷

since moving to LA, everything's been different. you've been grocery shopping in different places, hanging out at new cafes, making new friends at new parties with the whole influencer scene the triplets are into- and most importantly? you've been seeing a whole lot more of matt.

being friends with matt had always been effortless. you were born the same year, your moms were childhood best friends, and best of all, they lived next door. your siblings, and the sturniolo siblings had gotten on well, always had. chaotic energy, the sound of children screaming and giggling that made elderly neighbours shake their heads, and the dads clap their hands for silence.

but now? you were starting to feel like everything has changed. the triplets are famous, now. scrolling on your for you page, you're bombarded with edits. it's weird, you tell yourself. it doesn't stop you from favouriting cute ones of matt, in a little folder. today, you're relaxing on nick's bed, like the four of you did as kids, in a haphazard pile of cuddles.

matt always claimed he hated physical affection- but today he can't seem to get enough of you. his tattooed arm around your waist, leisurely resting, as he leans against the back of the sofa, your legs on his lap, nick and chris sandwiched beside you too, cuddled up watching the TV, giggling and showing each other funny tiktoks. life's good, you decide as matt trails his fingers lazily over the exposed part of your back under your fluffy sweater.

"i'm hot," you mumble,shifting slightly by his side. it makes your breath brush his throat,and your perfume waft to his nose. matt freezes up a little,but shakes hair out of his eyes and smiles leisurely at you, unwinding his arm.

"take that fluffy sweater off then, silly. it's hotter in LA than boston." he reminds, squinting at you through those pretty eyes. you feel yourself blush at the idea before you can fight it, despite the fact that he's seen you in bikinis before,and so have the others, the idea of matt seeing you in your bra makes your stomach flutter. "i haven't got a t-shirt on under." you manage,and watch his ears go pink.

"oh." matt amends,and then shrugs. "can borrow one of mine, from m'closet? whichever you like." he hates sharing his clothes, normally. but somehow..

you nod,and he watches you with a soft expression. "yeah,alright."

a few minutes later, when you return to the living room, in one of matt's t-shirts, the smile on his face makes your spine tingle. he tries to muffle it by wiping the stubble on his chin,and nods. "yep. suits you." and then he holds out his arm for you to tuck back under it.

you smile,tuck into his warmth,and go back to watching the telly. soon enough, the smell of his cologne, his shampoo, makes you dreary with sleep. it's been a long few weeks,since moving, unpacking your stuff into your apartment half an hour away. you shift,press your nose into the fabric of his polo just above his armpit,and watch him jolt.

matt tightens his arm, just a little, when he notices the way sleep's dragging your eyelids down, tugging you to rest with your chest on his, your head in the crook of his neck. his words brush over your scalp,lips nudging your forehead.

"sleepy?" it's said softly. teasingly. and unmistakably gentle,that gentleness he always has with you,even when he's angry, even when he's upset.

"yeah," your voice wobbles with sleepiness,and matt smiles, the sight making your stomach flutter again. maybe you're coming down with something.

"you can sleep on me." he offers. quietly, but enough for chris to turn around, bark a laugh.

"HA! and they say they're best friends-" the youngest triplet is cut off when nick slams a hand over his mouth, forces him to turn back to the tv. matt swallows greatfully. he'll have to thank nick, later. even if his feelings for you are obvious, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, not ever.

you seem pretty comfy right now. he watches hair slide into your face,go on your lips, like you hate. matt leans down and brushes it out of your way with a fingertip and a gentle hum. he watches you yawn, wriggle nearer, flinging the leg on his lap to wrap around his.

"go to sleep,my angel," matt mumbles, just into the top of your forehead. when he looks down? you're already out.

YES i wrote this in the same 10 minutets as the last one, i'm on my grind! idk if i like this 🥲 lmk what you wanna see 🩷

[vanteguccir]

Hi! I love your fics and I was wondering if you could maybe do a dad!matt oneshot where they are like at a store and a creep like keeps staring at his daughter and he gets protective?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPROTECTIVE DAD * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Matt is protective over his daughter when a creep guy keeps staring at her at target

FEATURING　dad!Matt Sturniolo x reader x daughter

WARNINGS　::　creep guy

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The fluorescent lights of Target buzzed faintly as Matt, Y/N, and Stella strolled through the craft supplies aisle. Stella's face was lit with excitement as she combed through the colorful rows of markers, foam boards, and glue sticks.

"Do you think blue or green will look better for the background, mom?" Stella asked, holding up two sheets of poster board for Y/N to examine.

Y/N smiled warmly, tilting her head to consider.

"Green, maybe? It’ll make the other colors pop more. What do you think, Matt?"

Matt was standing a few feet away, scanning a shelf of decorative stickers.

"Green." He called over his shoulder, grabbing a pack of sparkly stars. "But you need these too. Every good mockup has stars."

Stella giggled, shaking her head in her mom's direction.

"Dad, I don’t think stars go with a science project."

"They go with everything. Your uncle says that all the time." Matt said, grinning as he tossed the stickers that Nick - and Stella - loved so much into the cart.

As he turned back to the shelf, something prickled at the back of his neck. The feeling of being watched - one that he had a big knowledge of, working for the internet for around 15 years. A sense of unease settled over him, and he instinctively glanced down the aisle, thinking that it could be just a fan.

But it wasn't.

His stomach tightened. A man stood at the far end, his gaze locked on Stella. The creep wasn’t even pretending to browse, his eyes were fixed in a way that made Matt's protective instincts kick in.

He moved closer to Y/N and Stella, subtly placing himself in front of his daughter. He grabbed a few random items off the shelf to look busy, all the while keeping an eye on the man. But when he glanced back, the guy was still staring.

"Y/N." Matt called quietly, his voice low but steady. He placed a hand on her waist and leaned in. "Take Stella to the next aisle."

Y/N’s brow furrowed, sensing the tension in his voice.

"What’s wrong?" She asked softly, already clutching Stella’s arm protectively, trying to look around but being stopped by Matt shaking his head.

"Just go." Matt said, his jaw tightening. "I’ll be right behind you."

Y/N didn’t argue, she knew that when her husband acted like that, something serious was happening. She nodded, her grip on Stella firm as she gently guided her toward the end of the aisle.

"Come on, sweetheart, let’s check out the paint pens."

"But I already-" Stella began, confused, but Y/N’s reassuring smile quieted her.

Matt watched them leave, his chest tightening with both relief and anger. He turned back toward the man, who was now looking at him with a startled expression, as if realizing he’d been caught. Matt didn’t hesitate. He strode down the aisle, his boots squeaking faintly against the polished floor.

When Matt stopped just a few feet away, his glare was sharp enough to cut steel. His voice was calm, but the fury simmering beneath the surface was very much there.

"Is there a reason you’re staring at my daughter?"

The man blinked, caught off guard by the confrontation.

"What? No, I wasn’t-"

"Don’t even try." Matt interrupted, his tone dropping dangerously low. He took a step closer, his broad shoulders and tall frame imposing. "You’ve been staring at her since we got here, and I don’t appreciate it."

The man stammered, his confidence visibly faltering.

"I-I wasn’t doing anything. Just looking around... For my-"

"Looking around?" Matt echoed, sarcastically glancing at his empty basket, his voice laced with disdain. "Then look somewhere else. She’s thirteen. You understand me? Thirteen, you sick son of a bitch."

The man shifted uncomfortably, muttering something incoherent before backing away. Matt’s gaze didn’t waver, tracking him until he turned and disappeared down another aisle. Only then did Matt let out a slow breath, his hands still clenched into fists.

He returned to find Y/N and Stella by the markers, Stella innocently looking at all her options, but Y/N’s expression tight with concern.

She placed a hand on his biceps as he approached, feeling the tension there.

"Is everything okay?"

Matt nodded, his jaw still set.

"It’s fine now."

Y/N squeezed his covered skin, understanding without needing details. She knew Matt would do anything to protect their family.

"Dad?" Stella piped up, holding out a pack of metallic pens. "Do you think these will match the green poster?"

Matt’s face softened instantly, and he crouched down to her level, brushing a stray strand of brown hair from her face.

"They’ll look perfect, Stell. Just like everything you do."

She beamed, and thankfully, the tension lifted. Y/N reached out, brushing her fingers against Matt’s, intertwining them before caressing his knuckles with her thumb.

As they moved toward the checkout line, Matt kept a watchful eye on the store, his posture still on high alert.

© vanteguccir

[ariestrxsh]

sub!virgin!matt x neighbor!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, mommy kink, handjob, oral (m!receiving), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, sexualization of religious imagery

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: matt and his dad get into an argument over dinner when he disagrees with the way you're being spoken to, prompting matt to do something a bit out of character.

please don't read this series if you're religious because it might really upset you. the whole basis for this story is that matt is a sweet christian virgin boy who has his innocence corrupted by his dommy mommy neighbor, so don't read if you're not into the plot !

dividers by @/anitalenia

(dedicated to the loml Jules (@submattenthusiast) 💖

Me & U

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

You and Matt were sitting side-by-side at his dining room table while his dad was on the other side of the kitchen, cleaning up a few things while the three of you waited for the lasagna to finish baking.

The mouth-watering scent of garlic and oregano drifted through the air accompanied by the smell of the apple cinnamon candle burning a few feet from you. It had been less than a week since they'd moved in, but their house finally looked lived in, and almost everything that was previously packed away in boxes was now given a place.

"You guys want anything to drink?" His dad asked as he peeked over at the two of you. "You got any beer?" You wondered aloud. "She's kidding, dad!" Matt blurted out, looking at you wide-eyed and gently nudging you with his leg under the table.

His dad let out a laugh. "Sorry, kid. I've only got soda, water, and milk," he relayed, swinging open the door of the fridge as he listed off the options. "I'll have a coke," Matt requested. "I'll have the same," you responded, smiling.

His dad brought over two cans of coke and placed them in front of each of you. "Lasagna's got about ten more minutes, so sit tight," his dad told you. You peered over at the blue-eyed boy next to you, your gaze lingering on his pink, pouty lips.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Matt innocently asked, reaching up to brush away whatever you were gawking at. "No. You're just so pretty. I can't stop looking at you," you whispered in a sultry voice. Your compliment colored his cheeks a shade of rosey pink.

"This shirt looks really good on you, too. It brings out your eyes," you commented, playing with the hem of the blue fabric. His breath hitched as your hand wandered south, slowly caressing his bulge over his pajama pants. His gaze darted over at you with his mouth hung open in shock and his eyebrows pinched together in a concerned expression.

"Please. Not in front of my dad. He'd be so mad if he found out," Matt softly whined. "Don't worry, baby. I'm not gonna let him find out. Just let me make you feel good," you purred into his ear, squeezing his erection through the cotton material.

Your eyes flickered over to Matt's dad, who was still in the kitchen with his back turned to the two of you as he loaded the dishwasher. You smirked back over at Matt as your fingers slithered into his waistband until you wrapped them firmly around his throbbing cock, setting it free from the restrictive fabric.

"Yes, mommy," he submitted to you, the words rolling off his tongue in a breathy moan. "Shhh," you held your finger up to your upturned lips. He nodded, relaxing into the chair and letting his stare drop to the movement of the red table cloth that was concealing your little secret.

"You're a naughty boy, aren't you? Letting me touch you under the table," you cooed, looking into his dreamy, blue eyes and his blissed out expression. He caught his bottom lip between his pearly-white teeth as he bit back a whimper, staring back at you. He weakly nodded, sinking into his pleasure.

His heart raced, worried the two of you would he caught, but a part of him liked the adrenaline rush. He could already feel the knot in his stomach taking form. "Naughty, naughty boy," you repeated softly in his ear as you brought him to the edge, knowing how much he loved being called that.

Just when it looked like he couldn't take much more, you slowed your movements to a stop. His dick throbbed in your grasp, silently begging you to keep going. "Please. So close," he whispered.

"Not yet. I wanna take my time," you cruelly responded, denying him relief. He shot you a desperate look that said, right now? You want to take your time right now? In this situation? But the only words that drifted from his pouty lips was a quiet, "You're crazy." He meant it as a compliment, of course, and you took it as such.

The sound of plates, coffee mugs, and silverware clanking around drowned out the sweet sounds he made. You flashed him a mischevious grin as you circled the sensitive tip with your thumb, intensifying his pleasure. His head gently fell back, and he emitted another soft whine.

"Dinner's ready," Matt's dad's voice broke through the sexual tension as he headed in your direction with two plates. Matt sat up in his chair, straightening his back and clearing his throat. He slowed his breathing, trying to be inconspicuous about what was being done to him under the table.

"Thanks, dad," he managed to squeak out. "Would you like to say the prayer before we dig in?" Matt's dad asked you as he sat across from you two with his own plate. "You know, I'll be honest, I don't pray much," you admitted to his dad.

"Can you show me how to, Matt? I know how hard you pray every night," you smirked over at the sweet, shy boy to your right as the images of him getting down on his knees flickered through your mind. He glanced over at you, wide-eyed while you continued slowly stroking his length beneath the table, every now and again brushing your thumb over his swollen head.

"I-I don't know. Maybe you could say the prayer, dad," Matt stammered, tightly gripping the seat of his chair. "Why don't you wanna say the prayer, Matt?" His father asked, furrowing his brow. "Yeah, what is it, Matt? You feel guilty about something?" You quietly mumbled beside him, only loud enough for him to hear.

"O-okay. I'll say the prayer," Matt agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat, interlocking his fingers, and lowering his gaze to the movement happening underneath the tablecloth. Matt's father lowered his head and closed his eyes, and you followed his lead, periodically peeling open an eye to peek over at Matt and the way he reacted to your touch.

"Lord," Matt said, wetting his lips. "Thank you, Lord, for providing for us," Matt started to pray, but quickly needed to bite back a whine. You watched as his dick print showed through the cloth, precum trickling from his tip and leaving a wet stain on the red fabric.

The sensation of your hand pumping his shaft while his cockhead rubbed against the silky material sent him into a blissful state that nearly made him forget what he was doing, but he quickly directed himself back to his train of thought.

"Thank you for blessing this food. May it s-strengthen and nourish our b-bodies," he managed to get through his sentence without sounding any more nervous than usual. "Thank you. In Jesus' name, amen," he hurried to finish the prayer. "Amen," you and Matt's dad said in unison.

Right as Matt's father was about to start eating, his phone started to ring. "I gotta take this. Excuse me," he apologetically pardoned himself as he picked up. "Hello?" His voice drifted off as he made his way to the other room.

"You almost let me get you off during the prayer, didn't you, naughty boy?" You purred, yanking on Matt's hair with your free hand and burying his face into your chest, his strangled moans dampened by your breasts. "Come on, Matt. You gotta hurry up. Cum for mommy," you whispered, raking through his hair with your fingers.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, looked up at you with his big, blue eyes and nodded, giving himself over to the desire that overtook him. His cock twitched in your grasp as you fervently pumped away, a sticky white fluid erupting from it and dousing your hand.

His whole body shivered, and he buried his face into your bosom like an embarrassed little boy. "That was amazing," you murmured, rustling his brown locks and kissing him on the forehead. "That felt so good," he told you, taking a napkin off the table to wipe himself off with.

"I need to go wash my hands," you chuckled, getting up from your seat and darting off over to the sink to clean off the evidence. You took Matt's dirty napkin with you and chucked it into the trash.

Humiliation tinted his pink cheeks as he called his breath back to him, his chest rising and falling with every labored inhale and exhale. "You're crazy, you know that?" Matt smirked at you, quickly tucking his dick back into his pants. "I know," you flashed him a cheeky smile and washed your hands.

As soon as you sat back down, Matt's dad came back in through the door. "Sorry about that. You guys didn't have to wait for me to start eating," he said, motioning towards your untouched plates. "Oh, we didn't mind," you replied, holding back a giggle, concealing the real reason why you hadn't started digging into your lasagna yet. Matt blushed, biting back a grin as he peered over at you, still trying to catch his breath.

"So, Matt tells me you like classic rock," Matt's dad started off, opening up conversation before taking a bite of his lasagna. "I do. Blue Öyster Cult, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, AC/DC, stuff like that," you responded.

"Is that the stuff your parents listen to?" He asked. "Oh, no. They hate it. That's why I started listening to it," you laughed. Matt's dad cleared his throat, glanced over at Matt, and turned his attention back to you.

"So, do you go to church?" Matt's dad asked, changing the subject and hoping you'd say something he liked. "God no. I don't really believe in that kind of thing, but you know, I'll always go if Matt invites me," you replied, reaching over and giving Matt's hand a comforting squeeze.

"Are you open to converting?" His father casually asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Honestly, I couldn't see myself converting, you know? My lifestyle and Christianity don't really agree," you replied with a mouth full of food. "Well, Matt here has always discussed wanting his future wife to be a woman of God," his dad casually mentioned. "Dad," Matt sharply interjected.

"What?" Matt's dad defensively asked. "That's not necessarily what I want. That's w-what y-you want," Matt stuttered, avoiding eye contact with his dad as he stabbed his lasagna with the prongs of his fork. "Where's this coming from, Matt?" His dad asked.

"J-just don't grill her about religion, dad. I like her despite that. D-don't put that kind of pressure on her," Matt said with a shaky voice. Matt's dad was taken aback. Matt wasn't usually the type to dissent from his dad, but he wasn't given much of a reason to until now.

"What's gotten into you, Matt?" His father asked, giving him a disappointed look and crossing his arms over his chest. "N-nothing," Matt replied, shaking his head.

"I think this girl is a bad influence on you," his dad replied, talking about you as if you weren't in the room. Your heart sank. "Ever since the two of you have been hanging out, there's something off about you, Matt. Something different. I don't know if I like it," Matt's dad said. Matt sat in silence, picking at his food but not eating any of it.

"What are your intentions with my son?" His dad asked, peering at you from across the table, setting down his silverware and interlocking his fingers to show you how serious he was.

The truth was, the first day you'd laid eyes on Matt, your intentions were simply to sleep with him, and your thought process didn't go much further than that. However, after getting to know him and spending time with him, the way you felt about him became more convoluted.

"I just want to make him happy," you shrugged, peering over at Matt who smiled back. You weren't sure what answer either of them were looking for, and to be honest, you hadn't pondered that question much yourself, so you were somewhat surprised at your own answer when it fell from your lips. Matt's dad remained unconvinced.

"If you wanna make him happy, maybe you should leave him alone and let him find a good Christian girl," his dad blurted out. You clenched your jaw. You felt a mix of anguish and rage as the words left his mouth.

"Are you serious, dad? You can't just say that to my girlfriend," Matt shot back, getting up from his chair and grabbing your hand. You and Matt hadn't discussed labels or anything, but the way he was standing up for you and referring to you as his girlfriend turned you on a bit.

"C'mon. You don't have to listen to this," Matt said to you as you both started to head towards his front door. "Where do you think you're going?" His dad called out after the two of you. "Out," Matt huffed without looking back, slamming the door shut behind him.

You and Matt stepped outside, feeling the cool air as it rushed over your hot skin. It was a testament to the ever-changing seasons, summer hanging on by a thread as autumn began to take its place. In the same way, the day was fading, the sun sinking low into the evening sky.

"Holy shit," you said in disbelief, completely stunned by the way Matt had spoken to his father. "I've never talked to him like that before," Matt whispered, glancing at you with a dazed look on his face.

"Did it feel good?" You wondered, your lips curling into a smile. "It did," Matt nodded after a long exhale. "C'mon. Let's go hide in my treehouse until he cools down," you suggested, grabbing Matt by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into your backyard.

"I'm really sorry he said all of that," Matt apologized to you once the two of you were perched side-by-side in your treehouse as you sprinkled weed into your rolling paper.

"Listen. You don't have to try to make me feel better. I wouldn't want my good little Christian son hanging out with a girl like me either," you snorted, flicking your lighter and feeling the warmth of the fire as you held it up to the end of your joint.

Matt watched as the flame engulfed the paper and lit up your facial features. The scent of marijuana filled the air. You blew out a plume of smoke and watched it dissipate against the pink and orange sky as the sun started to fade out of view.

"I'm scared to go home," Matt whispered, flashing you a look of vulnerability. "We can stay here as long as you want," you assured him, handing him the joint. He leaned his head against your shoulder as he took a puff and slowly exhaled, feeling the anxiety and worry float away with the smoke he blew out into the atmosphere.

"Can I ask you something?" You wondered, only realizing after you'd asked how redundant it was to ask if you could ask a question. "Sure," Matt timidly responded, passing the joint back to you.

"Did you mean it back there when you called me your girlfriend?" You asked, aimlessly ashing the joint off to the side. "I'm sorry. I know we haven't talked about it-" Matt started to say, but you cut him off. "I wanna be your girlfriend," you inserted.

"Y-you do?" Matt stammered, his pretty blue eyes raising to meet yours as a swarm of butterflies fluttered around in his stomach. You nodded and smiled. The two of you sat quietly for a few minutes, passing the joint back and forth until you felt the tension from earlier in the night leave your body.

"I just want to do something that'll make him mad," Matt told you, shaking his head as he replayed the way his father had spoken so brazenly to you. "How mad?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and handing the joint over again. He took it from you and took a long drag, the chery end crackling as he pulled from it.

"Something that'll really piss him off," Matt confessed to you. He'd never had this urge before, to purposefully do something his dad didn't want him to do out of pure spite. You took the joint back from Matt as your lips shifted into a smug grin.

"I bet it would piss him off if I got his innocent son high and fucked him in my treehouse, wouldn't it?" You cooed, your voice thick with lust. You held intense eye contact as you took one final drag from the joint and put it out.

"Oh, he'd be so mad if I knew I gave it up to a slut like you," he whispered, knowing how much you loved being called that. A flash of desire seeped into his expression. Your panties started to cling to your wet folds as you imagined corrupting the sweet boy beside you.

"Well, then let's make him livid," you seductively whispered, letting your fingertips crawl up his chest. He slowly nodded, his shaky breath growing shallow. You snaked your hand around his neck, firmly grasping it, not enough to choke him - just enough to excite him and test the waters.

You pressed your lips up against his, eliciting a soft moan from Matt as your tongue slipped into his mouth. You grew more aggressive in your touch, slightly squeezing your fingers around the boy's neck in a gesture of dominance as you bit down on his plump lips, leaving them tender and bruised once you were done. He was left with a warm, excited feeling as blood rushed to his cock.

"You know. The way you stood up for me back there? It was super hot. I wanted to knock everything off your kitchen table and fuck you on it," you whispered against his mouth, guiding him to lay back as you pinned him to the floor of your treehouse.

"Yeah? You liked that?" He asked, looking up at you wide-eyed, his chest heaving with every breath as he anticipated your next move. "I fucking loved it," you purred into his ear before you pulled back.

You started tugging down his pajama pants and his boxers, and his cock eagerly sprung out as you set him free. You could see precum was already drooling from his slit, and the cool breeze blowing over his tip made him shudder in delight. You grabbed ahold of it, firmly holding it in your grip, just barely unable to close your fist around its girth. Matt bit his lip as you did this.

"So big," you whispered, licking your lips and staring at it in the glow of the stringed lights that hugged the branches of your treehouse. "Really?" Matt asked, propping himself up on his elbows and peering down at the way your fingers were wrapped around it.

"Yeah, trust me. I've seen a lot. This one is big," you smirked up at him. "I didn't know," Matt replied, trying to hold back a grin, liking the idea that he had a big dick. You started gently working your hand up and down on Matt's length, coaxing a few moans from his lips.

You loved the idea of being the first person to ever touch Matt's most intimate places and to be the first to ever make him sound like that. You lowered your mouth and wrapped your lips around his sensitive head, saltiness filling your taste buds.

"Oh!" Matt softly moaned. His cock jerked at the unexpected sensation of your warm, soft tongue grazing the underside of his tip. You started lightly suckling on it, which drove Matt crazy. "Wow," Matt whispered, completely blown away by the feeling. You went slow and gentle, learning every vein and every ridge with your tongue.

"Your mouth.." Matt started to say, but his voice trailed off. "What is it, baby? Say it," you purred. "It feels sooo good," he whimpered, holding a strand of your hair out of the way. You hummed against his cock, slowly moving your mouth up and down on his length as you circled his tip your tongue.

"Mommy," he squealed, gripping the fabric of the back of your shirt until his fingers started to cramp up. You bobbed your head and up down faster, listening closely to the pretty sounds he made as he discovered for the first time how much he liked getting head.

He laid back and sank into the floorboards beneath him, giving himself over to your soft, velvety mouth. He entangled his fingers into your hair and gently pulled you further down onto his twitching cock. His tip tickled the back of your throat, and he started subtly bucking his hips up to get as much as he could out of the sensation of having his dick buried between your lips.

He curled his toes until they started going numb. A slew of needy moans and soft cries unfurled from his pink lips as he tossed his head back and screwed his eyes shut. You slowly slid back up his shaft, slipping him out of your mouth before he could finish.

"I knew you'd love that," you whispered, smiling up at him as you started undoing the button on your jeans. "I did, but you always stop when I'm so close," he replied, propping himself up on his arms again. That's when he noticed you slipping out of your pants. Then your panties. You took the lace garment and slingshot it in his direction.

"That's because I'm about to make you feel even better than I did with my mouth," you seductively responded, straddling him and hovering right over his pink tip. Matt peered down as you lined him up with your entrance and made his length disappear inside you. His jaw dropped, and his facial expression softened as you lowered yourself onto him.

"You're so wet," he whimpered as he felt you stretch around him. "It's all your fault," you replied, pulling your top off over your head and revealing your perfect tits to him before you grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them above his head. "So pretty," he whispered, staring at your breasts in the glow of the fairy lights strewn around the room.

Matt loved the way you took charge. He loved that you knew exactly what you wanted and that you unapologetically took it from him. The sensation of your cunt clenching around his cock as you started bouncing up and down on it had him seeing stars.

He knitted his eyebrows together, pleasure wrinkling his expression as he let his head fall back against the floor with a soft thump. A loud, satisfied "fuuuck," poured from his lips.

"Naughty boy. I've never heard you say that word before," you said in a breathy moan as you smirked. "Can't help it, mommy. Your pussy feels so fucking good," Matt whispered, watching the way your tits jiggled as you picked up speed.

You were shocked but turned on by the foul language he was using as you continued rolling your hips forward, finding your rhythm. "I wonder what your dad would think of you right now. I bet he'd be so mad that you're swearing," you maliciously smiled down at him, knowing that would probably be the least of his concerns.

He struggled against the way you restrained his wrists just to see what would happen, and his cock throbbed inside of you as you tightened your hold on them. "You like that?" You asked, feeling the way the sweet boy squirmed around beneath you. "Yes, mommy," a strangled moan fell from his lips.

"You're such a naughty boy, aren't you?" You asked, arching your back and angling his cock deep inside of you in a way that felt incredible for both of you. You released his wrists, and your hand flew to your clit, rubbing it in fast, tight circles.

You threw your head back as you approached your orgasm. Matt watched in awe as you fell apart on his cock, your whole body trembling as dopamine and oxytocin flooded your system. Your thighs were burning, and your knees ached from the hard wood beneath you, but you powered through.

You finished yourself off, your walls rhythmically throbbing around Matt's dick and sending him over the edge shortly after. "Oh fuck," he whimpered, feeling his cock tighten and twitch as you rode him wildly. His eyes rolled back into his head and his jaw fell open as he pumped you full of his cum.

He submitted to the earth-shattering pleasure that rippled through him and overpowered him, like being swallowed by a series of cascading waves, each one topping the last. You slowed the movement of your hips and came to a stop once you were sure you'd both finished.

The two of you gazed longingly into each other's eyes under the blanket of stars as your breaths slowly returned to both of you. Four days. Four days was all it took for him to fall in love with you. He'd known you for four days, and he had just crossed a line with you that he hadn't even crossed in his three-year-long relationship with May.

You leaned down while he was still inside of you, grabbed his jaw, and gave him a long, passionate kiss. Matt couldn't get enough of you. He loved your soft lips, your smooth skin, and the way you always tasted a bit like weed. You filled his senses, leaving him feeling almost delirious.

He chuckled against your mouth mid-kiss. "What is it?" You asked, caressing his flushed, pink face that was coated in a light layer of sweat. "I can't believe we just did that. That was the best orgasm I've ever had," Matt admitted.

"Me too," you said, nibbling on your bottom lip. "I thought you said you've had sex with a lot of people before," Matt gave you a skeptical look. "I have, but I don't know. This was just better for some reason," you confessed, shrugging a shoulder. You knew it was because this was the first time such deep feelings were involved, but you didn't want to say it out loud and risk sounding stupid.

You didn't have to say it. Matt understood. He bit back a smile. You peppered his face in light kisses, whispering praises to him about how good he felt and how much you loved him. He stared back at you with his glossy, bedroom eyes and his fucked out expression.

"If I ever have to move away again, I'm taking you with me."

Matt walked home late that night, the thirty feet from your treehouse to his front door, his mind flooded with thoughts of you, hoping he could just sneak in without alerting his dad. He quietly turned the knob, stepped inside, and shut it, making sure not to trigger the sound of the latch.

When Matt spun around, his dad was sitting at the kitchen table in the soft glow of the candle that was burning down to the wick. It was like he hadn't moved since Matt had left, as if he had been waiting for him to come home and scold him.

Matt swallowed the knot in his throat, his palms beginning to sweat. He was certain if his dad turned on a main light, he'd see his bloodshot eyes and his dilated pupils. Thankfully, he didn't. He kept it short and sweet. He let out a defeated sigh before he spoke.

"Son. I'm sorry. I had no right to talk to your friend that way," he started off. "Girlfriend," Matt corrected him. "I didn't even know you guys had made anything official yet. I feel like you don't tell me things anymore," his dad said in response.

"We just decided tonight," Matt muttered, avoiding direct eye contact with his dad. "Well, either way. I'm sorry. I understand if you're upset with me. Your girlfriend is welcome over whenever, and I'll apologize to her, too the next time I see her."

Matt narrowed his eyes and glanced over at his dad, wondering where the sudden change of heart had come from. "Just promise me, son, that you'll keep God at the forefront of your relationship and that you won't give into temptation," his dad asked of him.

Matt half-heartedly shrugged and hesitantly nodded. Matt's dad could see the resistance in his response, but he didn't want to pry. "Goodnight, dad," Matt replied before carrying his heavy feet across the kitchen and trudging up the stairs.

He didn't have the heart to tell his dad that he had been questioning things.

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[gilbertscurls]

Life at First Sight ➵ Matt Sturniolo

summary: matt is holding your baby for the first time

inspired by

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the baby monitor and the occasional rustle of the blanket. Matt stood in the doorway, his heart pounding as he gazed at the tiny bundle swaddled in a soft blue blanket in the crib. His hands were slightly trembling, and a knot of nerves tightened in his stomach.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your face lit up with a radiant, exhausted smile as you watched the baby. You had been incredible throughout the whole process, and now, as you looked at Matt, your eyes were filled with encouragement.

“Come on, Matt,” you said softly, patting the space next to you. “Come hold him. He’s waiting for you.”

Matt took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I don’t know, baby. What if I mess up? What if I’m not holding him right?”

Your smile widened as you shook your head. “You won’t mess up. He’s just a baby, and he’s not expecting you to be perfect. He just needs you to be there.”

Matt nodded, taking slow, deliberate steps towards the crib. The tiny face peeking out from the blanket was so peaceful, so fragile. He felt an overwhelming mix of love and fear. He had always imagined this moment, but now that it was real, the weight of responsibility felt heavy.

You reached out, gently guiding Matt’s hands to the baby. “Here, let me help you,” you said, your voice calming. “Cradle his head like this…”

Matt carefully followed your instructions, lifting the baby into his arms. The small form felt delicate against his chest, and he could barely believe that he was holding his own child. The baby stirred slightly but stayed asleep, nestled comfortably.

You watched him with a tender gaze. “See? You’re doing great.”

Matt looked down, his eyes welling with tears. “He’s so tiny. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

You reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’re not alone in this. We’re in this together, and we’ll learn as we go. You’ve already shown so much love and care. That’s what matters most.”

Matt swallowed hard, his emotions overwhelming him. “I just… I want to be the best for him. I want to be a good dad.”

“You already are,” you said, her voice filled with conviction. “And you’ll keep getting better. Just by being here and caring so much, you’re already doing more than enough.”

Matt took a deep breath, feeling a little more confident. He looked down at his baby, marveling at the tiny fingers curled around his hand and the soft, peaceful breathing. “He’s perfect,” Matt whispered.

You leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder. “He is. And he has the best parents he could ever ask for.”

You stayed like that for a while, the room filled with a quiet, contented peace. Matt’s nerves slowly eased as he held his baby, feeling the immense love he had for this little person growing stronger by the second.

“Thank you, baby,” Matt said softly, looking at you. “For everything.”

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with love. “We’re a team, remember? We’re in this together.”

And with that, Matt cradled his newborn son with a newfound confidence, knowing that with you by his side, you would navigate this new chapter of your lives together.

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