#matte and smooth is fine

[her-favorite]

TRIP TO VEGAS; M. STURNIOLO

MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER

warnings: SMUT, dom!matt/sub!reader, exhibitionism? (being fucked against a window), slight daddy kink

wc: 3,034

a/n: okay i know you guys voted for a sub!matt fic but omfg these pics… also this is rushed (sort of)!! i saw his tt and i needed to write smth sooo

SYNOPSIS: Matt persuaded you into coming with him and Chris to Las Vegas.. but when Matt comes back to the rental house in a sleeveless shirt, you can’t deny your desire..

-

Matt practically begged you.

When you heard about Matt and Chris making plans to go to Vegas, you had indefinitely decided that you’d stay back with Nick while they spent time together. But Matt did not let that happen.

“Please, it’ll be fun, I promise.” He tries to convince you as you lay in his bed together, his hands subconsciously squeezing your leg as he takes place at the end of his bed. “I could take you out, somewhere fancy.” Matt tilts his head slightly, starting to gently stroke your calf.

You shake your head at his words, “Matt, everything there is absurdly expensive. I don’t wanna make you guys spend more than you already are.” You reply earnestly. You knew Matt wanted you to go, but you felt even worse making them pay for you - because you knew you didn’t have the money to pay for yourself.

“Baby, c’mon.” Matt clicks his tongue. “You know I have no problem paying for you.” He continues, as if what he was saying was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, I want you to come with us.” He says, whining slightly. His fingers fidget with your leg, poking and stroking the skin as he awaits your answer.

Before you could open your mouth again, he cuts you off, “And Chris doesn’t care.” He says firmly, knowing what you were going to say.

Letting out a sigh, you can’t help but cave. Noticing your inner turmoil, Matt’s lips turn up as he realizes your answer, but waits until you give him it. “Fine.” You exhale, not being able to stop the smile that grows on your lips once you notice the way Matt smiles widely and whispers a, “yes!”

A couple days later, with everything figured out, the three of you went on your way to Las Vegas.

The place they rented was spacious, with high ceilings and a pretty interior. The light gray walls were smooth as your eyes took in the decor, letting your feet take you wherever they wanted to go.

Chris dashed towards the bedrooms, immediately running into the master. “I call dibs!” He yells, so you and Matt can hear. Matt rolls his eyes and places his bag down by the dinner table before making his way into the master bedroom.

“Y/N and I are getting the master, Chris!” He replies, walking through the doorway. You chuckle quietly at their bickering as you toss your bag down beside Matt’s, starting to move through the house as you wander into different, empty rooms.

A couple minutes later, you make your way back into the living room as you’re met with the two brother’s sitting there, one on their phone and the other scrolling through the tv. Moving over to sit by your boyfriend, his arm instinctively glides up to rest behind your head on the couch as you lean into him.

“When are you guys leaving?” You ask, talking over the tv as you glance between them. Matt had told you about their plans for this ‘power slap’ event they bought tickets for. He had asked you if you wanted to go, but if you were honest, you’d rather stay in the rental and enjoy the view, or even walk around the area to see what they had.

“Uh.. like half an hour.” Chris responds, taking a second as he checked the time on his phone.

“No,” Matt shook his head, looking over at his brother. “40 minutes.” He says matter-of-factly.

Chris quickly turns to make eye contact with Matt, giving him a look. “Matt, if we leave in 30 minutes, then—”

As they go back and forth, you take the remote from Matt’s hand - without a word from him - as you settle on a familiar show.

A while passes as the two of them get ready to leave. Matt kisses you gently, saying a goodbye as Chris waves, darting out the door, impatient to be there. Watching them walk out, Matt shuts the door behind him as they make their way down the driveway.

Having the entire place to yourself was sort of overwhelming; you didn’t know what to do. Big glass panels saw into the main area as you stood in front of them, admiring the view. It wasn’t too late yet, but the lights for buildings were already being turned on.

In the span of the next hour or two, you’ve ordered some food and sat on the couch as you watched television. You couldn’t say you were one to go out, especially without Matt. You enjoyed the solitude of the moment, relaxing back on the big, comfy cushions as you chuckled at the screen a few feet away from you.

You jumped slightly once you heard the front doors click, the sudden sound echoing through the house. “I’m back, baby.” Matt’s voice follows as he shuts it behind him, the sound of the door locking reverberating as well. His footsteps carry into the living room, almost immediately noticing you sitting there. A smile tugs at his lips as he makes eye contact with you, rounding the couch as he plops himself down beside you. “Hey, ma.” He says softly as he leans in to kiss your head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You eagerly welcome his affection, tilting into his hold. Just then did you realize his change of clothes: a sleeveless black shirt with ‘Power Slap’ on it, paired with some loose white shorts. Your thighs subconsciously tighten together as your eyes rake over his exposed arms, taking in all of his tattoos. Matt’s eyes were focused on the tv as he huffed out a laugh at something that was said.

Trying to tear your gaze away, you look to your opposite side, eyes wandering the view again. It was beautiful and captivating… but not as enthralling as Matt. You curse yourself in your head as you managed to get even more worked up, deciding maybe it was best to move away from him.

You knew that you and Matt would have sex in his house with his brothers home - it was his house after-all - but it didn’t feel right to do it when it was just him and Chris, especially since it was a trip for them in the first place.

Getting up from your spot on the couch, you don’t pick up the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. Before he could ask where you were going, you ask, “Where’s Chris?”

“Said he wanted to stay for a bit,” Matt answers as he shrugs. “Told me he’d get an uber back - somethin’ about how he wanted to try and talk to one of those guys that got slapped.” He rolls his eyes at the memory of his brothers’ words before looking back at you. He watched the way you walked over to the large windows as you looked outside. Blue eyes traveled your body, soaking in your state: you were wearing Matt’s shorts as they roll down past your knees as well as a tanktop. He assumed it must’ve gotten hot in here after staying put for so long.. though, he wasn’t complaining. He always thought you looked the most tempting like this; in his clothes, relaxed, and eased.

You hum in response to his answer. You really couldn’t say you were surprised.

The couch creaked as Matt got off of it, making his way over to you. Footsteps freeze once he stands behind you, your reflections slightly visible on the windows as it grows darker outside. By now, all of the city lights were on as it made the place look even bigger.

Large hands circle around your waist as Matt steps closer to you, pressing his front to your back. “What’re you thinkin’ about, baby?” He mumbles by your ear, reading your stance as your eyes flicker between different views. They glance down to his tattooed arm as it wraps possessively around your waist, his palm stretched out across your other hip, as if shielding you from your own dirty thoughts.

You don’t give him an answer, besides a slight shake of your head. Matt chuckles lowly, noticing your quiet demeanor. He knew what you wanted, he could read you like the back of his hand.

“Such a needy girl, hm?” He hums as he leans down to press soft kisses on your neck. You gasp softly at the action, tilting your head farther to give him better access. You could feel Matt’s smirk against your skin as he trails up your neck before stopping once he finds the most sensitive spot. Licking over the area, he nips at it before pulling the skin into his mouth, sucking harshly enough to mark you as his.

Placing a few more scattered kisses on your neck once he’s done making bruises, one of his hands moves up your body slowly. “Y’wanna be fucked in front of the window, hm? Want everyone to see who owns this pussy?” Matt says into your ear, his opposite hand gliding past your (his) waistband and down to your panties. His big hand cups over the clothed area, though he can feel your neediness. “Fuck, already soaked f’me. Were you thinkin’ about this?” Matt asks as he harshly presses his thumb on your hidden clit. You gasp as one of your hands grasps forward, landing on the window pane for stability. Your other holds his arm tightly.

You knew better than to lie, “mhm.” You hum, your chest already rising and falling unevenly. Your ears pick up the way Matt chuckles before removing his hands from you completely. As soon as you start to whine, Matt shuts you up.

“Be patient.” He snaps. His fingers hook into his shorts you stole as he glides them down your legs, lazily dropping by your feet. Sliding up your thighs, his palms squeeze your ass, eliciting a whimper from you, before they travel under your shirt, slowly bringing it up, over your head. “Up.” He says as you follow his words, lifting your arms. He discards the fabric elsewhere, not caring about the placement in that moment.

Almost bare, except for your underwear, you stand in front of the large windows as you grow embarrassed. Anyone could see; people in other adjacent buildings, pedestrians walking by on the sidewalks. The rental was high up as you got the perfect view, so you’d have to look up to see your room.. though, in that moment, you were hoping no one would.

“You getting shy, sweetheart?” Matt taunts as he lets his loose shorts fall to the floor. You could see his smirk in the reflections, only riling you up more.

“Matt, please,” you whisper, moving your hips back slightly. Your hands flattened against the window as you steadied yourself, but you knew as soon as Matt were to do something, you’d lose your balance.

“Such an impatient brat.” Matt hisses as his hand glides back before slapping down onto your asscheek. Moaning from the sting, your eyes shut tightly, not expecting the sudden force. Thankfully, Matt put his free hand on your hip to ground you so your legs don’t give out.

By now, you we’re desperate.

Matt hooks his fingers into your panties, bringing them down, not without noticing the way your wetness sticks to the fabric. He smirks at the sight, silently noting to take the pair from you.

“Fuckin’ dripping.” Matt mocks as his ring-clad fingers travel down between your thighs, ghosting over your sensitive heat. Exhaling shakily at the feeling, you look down at the floor. His middle finger, being the longest, enters you first, prepping you for the rest of him. Whimpering at the sensation, you try to grind back on him as he keeps still. Smacking his hand down on your ass again, it already seems to be going sore. “Stop fucking moving, or I won’t give you what you want.” He spits, soothing his other hand over the sore skin.

You hiss at the contact of his palm, only seeming to make the area hurt more. Matt’s dick strained against his boxers, already rock hard by just playing with you like this. His ring finger joined his middle inside you, quickly moving them before you could say anything.

Moaning out, his long fingers always seem to hit that perfect spot as they tease it. You knew he wasn’t gonna let you come yet, but you wanted to, so bad.

“Please, Matt! I need it,” you gasp out, moaning as his fingers stretch you out even more. He hums as you clench around them before pulling them out, drenched in your wetness.

“So selfish,” he tsks, shaking his head mockingly. Taking a step forward, his boxers make contact with your sensitive pussy, making you inhale sharply. His hand rounds your head, sticking his fingers in front of your lips. “Open,” he demands as his wet fingers smear over your bottom lip. Obeying him, he lays them on your warm tongue as you envelope them into your mouth.

Cursing quietly to himself as you suck on his fingers, his eyes never stray away from you. They were always captivated by you, no matter the action.

Pulling his fingers away once he gets too worked up, Matt pulls down his boxers as his dick slaps against the skin on his stomach. His tip was red and neglected as it pleads for attention, leaking with need.

“Fuck, baby, you feel that?” He asks, soothing a hand over your back before pressing his hips forward, slotting his dick on your ass. “Mm, make me so fuckin’ hard.” He says lowly, lust clouding his voice.

You whine at the contact, getting more and more impatient as seconds go by. Matt brings one hand down as he lets his tip tease you, smacking against your clit as you gasp.

“Needy fuckin’ girl,” Matt snarls as he forcefully enters you, sending your body into the window. Crying out, your eyes shut tightly as your lips part. Your boobs press against the glass as Matt stands behind you, eyes trailing from where your bodies connect to your pleasure filled face.

“Wanting to be fucked against the window,” Matt clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Such a slut.” He smacks his opposite hand against your other asscheek, eliciting another moan from your parted lips. Matt’s eyes didn’t dare to leave you. The way your back arched, the way your fingers clawed at the solid glass, the look on your face and the noises leaving your lips… that alone could make him come. But he’s made it his priority to always make you come first.

“Please!” You gasp out, not necessarily knowing what you were pleading for. Your body slammed against the window with every thrust, only adding to the pleasure of it all. Matt’s cock hits that sensitive spot inside you as you cry out, the stimulation becoming too much as tears prick at your eyes.

“Poor girl,” Matt coos, noticing a tear falling from your cheek. “What, baby? What d’you need?” He slurs, also getting lost in the euphoria of the situation. His hips smack against your ass, the sound echoing through the room as it bounces off of the walls. His thrusts are fast and hard as you’re both sexually pent up, needy and desperate.

“Need ta’ cum.” You moan, trying to look back at him, even though your tense body isn’t allowing you to. “Please, Matt,” you whine.

“Please, who?” Matt smacks your ass again, evening out each side. “Being such a bad fuckin’ girl tonight.” He snaps, moving his hips harder against you. You whine louder at the feeling, knowing that his hips and nails were going to leave marks. Teasing you more, Matt brings his hand down to play with your clit, rubbing tantalizing circles around it.

“Please, daddy! Please let me cum.” You cry, the knot getting insanely tight inside your stomach as it screams for you to let go. Tears fall from your eyes as they slide down your cheeks, your lips swollen as they stay open, letting out scattered moans and cries.

Matt groans, swallowing harshly as he watches you. He knew he was close, too. “Fuck - cum for me, baby. Make a mess on my cock,” he rasps. Hearing his words, you immediately give in, your thighs shaking as you’re put at the peak of pleasure. Moaning loudly, his name falls from your lips, tears escaping your tightly shut eyes.

Feeling you release around him, Matt lets you ride it out before pulling out quickly, white spurts covering your sweaty back. “Fuuuck,” Matt groans before he exhales. His arms wrap around your waist, keeping you up. The both of you breathe heavily as exhaustion takes over your limbs.

“Gonna clean you up, sweetheart.” Matt whispers as he kisses your head. He brings you over to the couch as he walks away for a second to grab a washcloth, gently wiping down your back. He helps you lean back against it as he leans down to kiss you softly. You hum into it, enjoying the feeling.

Once he pulls away, Matt kneels down to help clean more. Before you could say anything, his tongue darts out as he licks up your center. A gasp leaves your lips at the sudden action, paired with how sensitive you are.

“Matt!” You gasp out, your hand quickly reaching down to tug at his hair. You can feel the slight vibration of his chuckle against you, making you whine quietly.

“Relax, ma, ‘m just cleanin’ you up.” He mumbles, licking up the wetness before leaving a kiss on your clit gently. Moving back up to his knees, he smiles at you, satisfied with his work. He throws the damp cloth by the couch as he wraps his arms around your waist to bring you into him.

“Are you guys done?! I’ve been waiting out here for past 10 fucking minutes!” Chris yells from outside the door.

Your eyes widen as you look up at Matt, watching him chuckle. Slapping his arm playfully, you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face.

It was worth it.

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ PODCAST ୧

summary: matt leaves the podcast because of his brother's jokes, and y/n comforts him.

warnings: cussing, sad, fluff

notes: this fanfic was a request! also english is not my first language so im sorry about any mistake

୨୧

The day with the Triplets has been a little stressful, specially for Matt. Each time he spoke, his brothers would joke saying that he was being way too ‘depressed’ and ‘miserable’. Or Nick would always answer with ‘Yeah, yeah nobody wants to hear about that shit’.

Now, after they invited me to their podcast, here I am, sitting next to my boyfriend, holding his hand gently.

As Chris and Nick keep talking over their brother, calling him ‘Miserable Matt’ I could see him getting more annoyed, his eyes watering, and it feels like I'm the only one seeing his discomfort.

I don’t really know what to do, cause obviously his brothers are just joking, and I'm not sure how to intervene without making things awkward.

They keep teasing him over and over.

“I'm not going to sit here for like another 55 minutes or some shit.” Matt’s voice getting slowly lower.

“What? What was that? That mumble? I can’t understand you.” The older triplet mocks him, but he tries to ignore it. “Ok go ahead-“

“Now you are ‘mumble Matt’ too” Chris laughs after Nick’s comment. “It's like I can't even understand what you are saying, sounds like rocks rolling down a hill, your voice”

I try to end the conversation "Can we just-" Before I can finish, Chris and Nick burst into laughter "Can we start the podcast?" I try again, but Matt lets out a heavy sigh.

Nick continues “it literally sounds like an avalanch coming out of your mouth” Matt gets up aggressively, starting to leave the room “I’m not doing this shit anymore.”

“Oh come on Matt!” Chris says chucking. They laugh some more as I just think of what to do. I get up from my seat, hurrying after him “Hey.. Matt..” I begin, attempting to catch his attention. However, before I could reach him, he gets in his room, and slams the door in my face, leaving me standing outside. I'm sure this is not just about the stupid jokes they were making.

I hesitate for a moment before making any move, thinking if I should open the door, i’m sorry, but I can't just ignore the urge to check on him.

With a deep breath, I reach out and calmly push the door open. Inside, I find Matt lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Can we talk love?” I say quietly closing the door behind me.

He lifts his head, his eyes red and puffy, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. "What do you want?" His voice defensive.

Ignoring his tone, I move closer and sit on the bed.

With a gentle touch, I reach out and place my hand on his back, offering a silent gesture of comfort. For a moment, we sit in silence, until I interrupt it.

“Can you tell me what has been going on lately?” I ask softly, my voice filled with concern.

“Nothings going on” He sniffs, still with his face in the pillow “I’m fine” His voice barely above a whisper.

I shake my head, not trusting his words. "You don't seem fine to me" He stays silent, I take a deep breath.

I adjust my position, leaning against the headboard of the bed. I decide to take a different approach instead of talking “Come here..” I pat the spot next to me, in sign for him to come closer “Let's just cuddle for a bit."

He completely stops acting rude in the moment I suggest it, Matt scoots closer, laying his head on my chest, his arms around my waist. I stroke his smooth brown hair. I kiss the top of his head. We stay like this for some good ten minutes.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck and whispers with a shaky voice “I’m just so fucked up..”

Gently, I cupped his cheeks, lifting his head from my neck, making him look into my eyes “Matt.. Why do you say that?”

"I just.. I don't know" He admits. "I'm just so fucking exhausted of feeling like this all the time..”

I sigh, I hate seeing him in this state. “Since when do you feel like that?” I wait patiently for Matt's response, he looks away.

“I don’t know.. For some long time now.. I guess I've been trying to push it away, but it just keeps coming back, over and over.” As he spoke, I could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see it sooner babe.." I whisper, reaching out to gently brush away his tears. "I should have known something was wrong." I kiss his forehead.

He shakes his head "It's not your fault" He murmurs "I don’t want you to worry"

I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. "But I do worry, Matt" I confess softly. "I care about you more than anything."

He buries his face deeper into my chest. "I love you so much.." He whispers, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

"I love you too.." I whisper back in his ear, squeezing him tightly.

୨୧

sorry this is so short 😭😭

tags: @muwapsturniolo

[starboye]

starring: matt sturniolo x male reader

request: matt sturniolo helping reader wax his hole,matt doesn’t know how he got into this situation but reader came up to him asking for a HUGE favor and matt ofc said yes but he didn’t expect to see laying down with his back arched and holding his juicy cheeks open so matt can wax his hole… after matt finishes he can’t help but get turned on at the sight of his hole and rubs him thumb over it and matt leans down and starts eating readers hole and his hands are just jiggling his cheeks and after a while of eating reader ass he pulls his pants down and fucks him and cums on his ass cheeks and after that he jiggles readers ass cheeks with his cum just sitting on those juicy ass cheeks (ps matt and reader had some previous hookups, fwb kind of thing)

warnings: smut, waxing ass hole?, fingering, ass eating, backshots, cursing

do either of you really remember how you got in this situation? no. you had came to matt with a huge task at hand that you sadly couldn't get done on your own or you wouldn't have asked matt for help, you had asked for his help waxing you hole... i know it's embarrassing as hell but if you could get anyone else to do it you would but matt is the only person around right now since he was the first to arrive at your house for a video you were supposed to be filming later.

nick and chris saying they wouldn't be able to make it till later so now here you were arched on your bed twitching as you waited for matt to apply the hot wax "well this brings back memories" matt smirks mixing the wax to get any clumps out "yeah it sure does" you chuckle "why not revisit those memories" matt tempts but you stop him "how about not, i just need your help with this one things, and plus those were only a couple late night hookups" you sternly say "fine" matt rolls his eyes.

he slowly applies the wax across your hole as you hold your ass apart to not burn them by accident, you both sit in silence for some time as you wait for the wax to dry, the wax dries and matts slowly peels it off your hole, looking at the smooth result that's left "how does it look" you ask looking back "it looks pretty good, I might just have a future in waxing" matt chuckle shallowly as he stares down at your puckering hole, feeling a boner grow in his pants.

"well thanks for the help" you say leaning to get up but suddenly matt pushes you back into the bed and starts eating you out, his tongue lapping and hungrily tonguing at your smooth ass "fuck- matt wait" you try to stop him but he doesn't budge "just a taste" matt mutters holding your ass apart to get deeper, jiggling them in his hands making him even harder till his dick was aching to be let out of the confines of his sweatpants.

you moaning out trying to stop matt but soon running your fingers through his hair to pull his head harder into your ass, silently begging him to go faster. he begins running his finger over your hole as he eats you out, creating even more pleasure as he fingers you "fuck me matt" you shudder "what was that y/n" matt teases as if he didn't already hear you "please... please fuck me" you say "say less" matt jumps at your words and stands.

looking down at your smooth stretched hole as he lowers his pants, you whimper at the sight of his cock being let out "fuck I've wanted to do this since I got here" he admits spitting on his dick and rubbing it in before angling it up with you "then don't be shy" you taunt slightly jiggling your ass "for this hole never" he scoffs pushing in his dick, his tip stretching you apart so well making you moan out while gripping the bed sheets while matt groans out quickly moving to hold your waist in place.

"I forgot how good this hole felt, it's been a minute since we hooked up" matt chuckles moving his hips at a medium pace " then you should remember how I like it" you hint "and how would that be" matt asks "deep and hard" you say backing your ass onto him "well all you had to do was ask" matt rolls his eyes and starts fucking into you harder.

a mix of plaps and moans filling the luckily empty house, matts hips harshly smacking against your ass making it even harder for you to stop yourself from cumming, quickly moving your hand to jerk off "I remember the days where I could make you cum from just my fingers" matt laughs watching you desperately try to reach your high "how about we recreate that sometime" he leans down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly "how about not" you say making matt a little madder.

like why wouldn't you want to get back with him, he knows it was a friend with benefits situation but he still absolutely adored your late night calls begging him to come by your place to fuck you because you couldn't sleep and he would never disappoint, always quickly making it to your place to dick you down in all the best ways till one day you decided to cut him off since you got a boyfriend but now with no boyfriend and an apartment all to yourself matts thinking he could feel that empty space in your life and in your hole simultaneously but back to matt fucking you like he's needed this for months.

"y'know I haven't been able to properly get off without thinking of you" matt admits but you to deep in pleasure to reply "mhm right there" you moan tightening the grip around your cock feeling your climax quickly approaching before cumming all over your bed with a loud moan "well would you look at that already cumming for me" matt says "don't flatter yourself pretty boy" you retort "fuck" matt mutters feeling himself about to cum, he knows you love when he empties his cum in you but with a chance like this to tease you he couldn't pass it up.

quickly pulling out of you to jerk off and spray his load all over your luscious ass with some moans from him filling the room, you whip your head around at the feeling "you know I like it inside me" you agitatedly say "oh do you I don't t remember that" matt pants with a smug look on his face "fuck you" you say "well i mean if you want a load in you 8 could arrange that" matt says jiggling your ass to watch the cum slowly wake it's way over your back while he slaps his cock over your wet hole "fine but this doesn't mean we're doing this again" you sternly say "sure it doesn't baby" matt says sliding back into you

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

[flipidifloppody]

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱/ 𝐦.𝐬

summary: you and the sturniolos have been best friends since you were born due to your moms being close friends. it's your 19th birthday and your having a massive house party. when it comes to the sturniolos coming over matt randomly keeps staring over..

‼️warnings‼️: smut (quite abit). pet names (ma, baby etc) swearing, alcohol.

I have been best friends with the sturniolos for 18 years now, my closest one of them all being matt. We were so close no one could seperate us, ever since we were kids. It was my 19th birthday and I am having a party at this resort house my mom booked for me. Loads of kids from school and outside of school was coming. There is gonna be alcohol and probably drugs if people bring it. Idk. But it was now two o'clock and i needed to start getting ready before it hits 5:30pm. I hopped in the shower and began to wash my hair thoroughly trying to look my best for the party. I'm so nervous it's unreal. I continue to wash my self and quickly jump out the shower and wrap a towel round me and sit down on my desk.

I began to prep my face by doing my skincare adding primer invetween that too. I then began to do my makeup. A few hours later, it was now 4pm i was just in the middle of picking out my outfit still in my towel when i got a notification from instagram, i quickly opened it to see who it was or if it was something for the party.

@matthew.sturniolo

hey what time is the party?

uhm sometime around half five ?

yeah sound fine see you later then

bye matt see ya

I start sliding on the dress that i picked out. A black satin dress that fit my body perfectly. As i slipped the straps over my shoulders I looked down at my dress then smoothed it out with my hands abit then pairing the dress with a pair of black high heels that went well with the dress. I stood in front of my full body mirror and stared at myself for a minute before running my fingers through my curled hair loosing it out abit. I smiled at myself in the mirror as i picked up my black juicy couture purse, clutching it in my hands as i turned the knob of my door and walked out of it.

I hopped into my car and put in into reverse as i was going to the place of the party to set up and lay out everything perfectly. I had called matt over to help me since he had offered before hand.

I pulled into the driveway of the massive house that my mom had rented out. I felt so special knowing that all this was just for my birthday. I then saw a familiar face standing in the doorway waving for me to come over to him. matt. I quickly picked up my pace as i walked steadily in my high heels over to him.

'you look beautiful' matt said as he was looking me up and down slightly looking down more than up.

i smile and say 'you don't look to bad yourself'

he was wearing a black ransom t-shirt and some blue loose jeans with his car keys jangling on the belt hole.

we both laughed together for a while as we were talking about our life and how long it's been since we've all seen each other and hung out together

'you know i really missed you y/n' matt blurted out

i smile at the comment and my cheeks flush a baby pink 'i missed you too matt , quite allot actually'

'well we better head inside and start to decorate huh?' he suggested i quickly nodded as he took my hand and basically dragged me inside. When we walked in i we in shock as i looked at the high ceilings with balconies on the second floor looking down to the first. It was beautiful.

after a while all the decorating was done it was around twenty past five and i heard cars start to pull into the drive.

there was a knock at the door. i quickly grabbed the handle and turned it to reveal most of my friends. i greeted them and let them in and started to turn on the music and get ready for what i thought was going to be a 'normal' party

it has been a while since the party had started now, but i decided to head upstairs into one of the spare bedrooms to rest my head abit as it was really noisy downstairs. the music quickly muffled when i was walking into the first room which was free. Most of them were taken because i'm pretty sure people were fucking in there or some shit. I got in the room and was quick to kick if my heels and practically jump onto the bed. I was sat down peaceful when i heard some muffled bangs and crashes in the en-suite next door

i decided to go in there since i was curious. When i walked in i saw matt sat on the floor of the bathroom with his phone in one hand and in the other hand was him stroking himself.

my mouth completely dropped.

As his head flung back against the bathtub with his eyes squeezed shut he started muttering something under his breathe which oddly sounded like my name

this couldn't be happening right now. we have been best friends for years. after a second of standing in complete shock i finally spoke up. 'matt..?'

he looked up at me in complete disbelief 'oh.. shit i'm so sorry y/n i'm really s-'

i cut him off by kissing him passionately adjusting myself onto his lap whilst putting more depth into the kiss.

as soon as it broke matts jaw was swung open. it was like he had seen a ghost. Moments after he was quick to turn us over pinning me to the cold floor and quickly lifted my tight dress to the bottom of my chest.

'always wanted to do this to you ma' he said before shoving two fingers in me causing me to scream out and take a clump of his hair into my fists.

'f-fuck matt'

he quickly sped up his pace while grasping onto my thighs with his free hand

'you like this huh?'

i was quick to nod as he pulled his fingers out when i was just about to reach my orgasm. he chuckled to himself as i threw a straight face right at him signalling to him i was now pissed off

'why the fuck matt?'

'yeah yeah i'm sorry baby'

he quickly stuck his fingers in his mouth licking them clean and taking them out with a 'pop'

i had my eyes shut and was quick to open them at the sound of a belt unbuckling

he took his dick out as it sprung against his chest and stoked himself a few times before lining up with me

'you ready ma?'

'fuck.. yes matt'

he quickly slammed into me staying still for a minute whilst i adjusted to his size. i gave him a nod signifying to him that he could pick up his face. Trust me he was quick with that. i instantly screamed out and grasped onto his shoulders for support as my legs wrapped around him letting him hit me from a different angle. His tip basically kissing my cervix as he thrusted into me.

i screamed out as he put his hands over my mouth to try and prevent people from downstairs to know what was happening.

'now baby you don't want them hearing now do you huh?'

i shook my head no before rolling my eyes to the back of my head and clenching around him

'fuck baby if you keep clenching around me like that i won't last much longer'

'matt i'm gonna cum'

'cum all over my cock ma i wanna see your pretty face aswell'

with those words of relief i let out realesing all over his dick he wasn't long after as he pulled out and shot white strips of his hot cum onto my chest

he collapsed on top of me making sure not to put much weight on me

'you okay baby' he said sweetly whilst caressing my cheek and kissing it lightly

i nod my head gently

'cmon let's get you cleaned up and i'll run you a bath aswell'

i just smile at him whilst getting up.

@astrolynnworld @strawberrysturniolo @lovingmattysposts @lovingchrissposts @plasticferal @sturniololoverr

[alyrasturnz]

ONE STEP FORWARD THREE STEPS BACK? WITH ANYONE BTW

ONE STEP FORWARD, THREE STEPS BACK

❐ summary » in the tumultuous world of matt and y/n, nothing is ever straightforward. matt is a confusing guy, perpetually oscillating between cold detachment and fleeting moments of warmth. his unpredictable nature turns their relationship into a relentless rollercoaster ride, where every step forward is met with three steps back. y/n finds herself in a constant state of uncertainty, never knowing which version of matt she'll encounter each day, making their connection both exhilarating and exhausting.

❐ pairings » toxic!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » toxic!matt , sleeping with makeup on…

❐ a/n && w/c » this took a weird amount of time for me to write (4 hours.) • 3.44k

you glanced at your phone, the screen glowing ominously with matt's contact information. the weight of the moment settled on your shoulders as you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

with a trembling finger, you pressed the call button, the sound of the dial tone echoing in the quiet room. hope flickered within you, a fragile flame yearning for a warm conversation amidst the storm of uncertainty.

"hey, matt," you began, your voice gentle, as you carefully adjusted your grip on the phone, your fingers tracing the edges of the device. you took a moment to steady your breath, feeling the rise and fall of your chest, before continuing, "how are you?"

there was a pause on the other end, a silence that felt heavy and foreboding. the seconds stretched into an eternity, each one amplifying the tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud. “i’m fine, what about it?" matt's voice finally broke the silence, clipped and almost indifferent, as if he were brushing off an insignificant detail.

a pang of confusion and hurt shot through you, like an icy dagger piercing your heart. you furrowed your brows, the lines deepening as you tried to decipher the sudden chill in his tone. "are you okay? you seem upset," you asked, your voice laced with concern and uncertainty.

matt sighed, the sound crackling through the phone like a distant storm rolling over the horizon. "i'm fine. why do you always have to make a big deal out of everything?" he retorted, his words sharp and laced with an undercurrent of frustration.

your heart ached at his words, a dull throb of pain that resonated deep within. you struggled to keep your voice steady, fighting against the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "i was just asking because i care about you," you managed to say, each word a testament to your enduring concern and affection.

"well, don't," he snapped, cutting you off with the precision of a knife. "i don't need you checking up on me all the time," he continued, his words slicing through the fragile thread of connection between you, leaving behind an echo of cold detachment.

you bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat, as if the weight of unspoken words was choking you. the warmth of the conversation you had hoped for was slipping away, replaced by an icy barrier that seemed insurmountable.

"matt, it's not about checking up. i just want to make sure you're okay. is something bothering you?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of concern and desperation, hoping to pierce through the coldness that had enveloped him.

"just leave it," he said, his voice now a mix of frustration and exhaustion, like the final crack of a weary branch under the weight of snow. "i don't want to talk about it," he continued, each word laden with a heavy finality that seemed to close the door on any further attempts at understanding.

the river of your relationship had encountered a stone, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it would take to smooth it over, if at all. you took a deep breath, trying to keep your own emotions in check, like a dam holding back a flood.

"alright, matt. i'll give you some space. but remember, i'm here if you need to talk," you said, your words a gentle current, offering solace and a lifeline amidst the turbulent waters.

"yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice a mere whisper of resignation before the line went dead, leaving behind an echo of unresolved tension and unanswered questions.

as you ended the call, you felt a mixture of confusion and sadness, like a fog that clouded your thoughts. the conversation replayed in your mind, each word a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, an enigma wrapped in layers of unspoken truths. you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was at play, something matt wasn't ready to share, a hidden current beneath the surface of his words.

you know that matt's got you wrapped around his finger, twisting your thoughts and emotions like a marionette on tangled strings. he's got you so fucked up in the head that your mind feels like a labyrinth with no clear way out.

each step you take seems to lead you further into a maze of confusion and heartache, where his influence looms like an ever-present shadow. you're caught in a web of his making, struggling to find clarity amidst the chaos he's sown in your heart and mind.

he could utter the slightest things, mere whispers in the wind, and they would still echo in your head for the rest of the day, reverberating like a haunting refrain.

you know that you've never doubted yourself this much, each word he speaks planting seeds of uncertainty that grow into a tangled forest of self-doubt and confusion. his influence lingers, a spectral presence that shadows your every thought, leaving you questioning your own worth and reality.

you love him deeply, with a fervor that consumes you, but you hate how you've surrendered so much power over your emotions to him. you desperately wish you didn't, but this tumultuous rollercoaster is all you've ever known.

he was your first love, the one who etched his name into the very fabric of your being, and now you're caught in a cycle of passion and pain, unable to break free from the hold he has over your heart.

people often say that your first love is the one love you'll never get over, suggesting that their profound affection leaves an indelible mark on your soul. some might mean that in the way they loved you so deeply, their memory becomes an inextricable part of you. but that isn't the case for you.

you know you'll never get over the pain he punctured through your heart, each wound a reminder of the emotional scars that linger, a testament to the anguish that continues to haunt you.

it was toxic. one day, he was fine, showering you with affection and attention, and the next, he would turn cold, retreating into silence and ignoring you as if you didn't exist.

this unpredictable oscillation between warmth and indifference left you in a constant state of uncertainty, never knowing where you stood, and further entangling you in the web of emotional turmoil he spun around you.

and maybe, in some masochistic way, you find it all exhilarating, like a twisted game of chance.

which lover are you getting today? the affectionate boy who showers you with warmth, or the distant stranger who leaves you in the cold? the unpredictability adds a perverse thrill to the tumult, a dark allure that keeps you tethered to the chaos.

»--•--«

you know that you probably shouldn't be doing this, especially after he already snapped at you, but here you are, standing at his front door. despite the rational voice in your head urging you to turn back, the pull of unresolved emotions and the hope for a different outcome have led you to this very threshold, a testament to the complex dance of love and longing that continues to ensnare your heart.

you pressed your lips together, a silent battle waging within you as you debated whether to knock. the hesitation in your heart mirrored the turmoil in your mind, each moment stretching into an eternity as you stood there, caught between the desire to reach out and the fear of further rejection.

this was a bad idea, and deep down, you were acutely aware of it. perhaps it would be wiser to postpone this endeavor until tomorrow, allowing emotions to settle and reason to prevail?

but just as you were about to leave, the heavens opened up, and a torrential downpour began to cascade from the sky, as if the universe itself sought to mirror the tumultuous storm within your heart. each raindrop seemed to echo the unresolved emotions and unspoken words, creating a symphony of melancholy that enveloped the moment.

of course.

you found yourself with no alternative but to rap upon his door, and soon enough, matt appeared, his visage darkening with a shadow of irritation.

"why are you here?" he inquired, his arms crossing defensively, a barrier to the tumultuous emotions swirling within.

“can i come in?" you inquired softly, your voice barely above a whisper. matt, unable to meet your gaze, turned his eyes toward the relentless rain outside, seeking solace in the storm's embrace.

he wasn't entirely devoid of compassion. "yeah, come in," he responded with a frosty detachment, stepping aside to allow you entry, his demeanor as cold as the rain-soaked night.

he closed the door with a soft click that seemed to echo in the silence between you. “okay, what is it?” he queried, leaning against the door, his posture a mix of curiosity and guardedness.

"what's going on, matt?" you inquired directly, your voice slicing through the tension like a finely honed blade.

"what do you mean?" he responded, furrowing his eyebrows in a perplexed manner, his confusion evident in the deep lines etched across his forehead.

"i mean, what’s going on with you?" you pressed, crossing your arms defensively, your eyes searching his for any flicker of the person you once knew. "i know you, matt. this isn't you. this isn't the matt i committed to. the matt i knew was strong, dependable, and honest. but now, it feels like you're a shadow of your former self, and i can't help but wonder what's changed. please, just talk to me."

matt rolls his eyes, a gesture heavy with exasperation, before he begins pacing back and forth in the living room. his hands run through his hair in frustration, each pass through his locks a testament to the turmoil brewing within him. "why do you always have to make everything so dramatic? it's like you're looking for reasons to be upset."

you stand by the door, arms crossed tightly across your chest, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "i'm not making things dramatic, matt. i'm just trying to understand why one moment you're sweet and the next you're cold. it's like i'm always walking on eggshells around you."

matt halts abruptly and pivots to face you, his eyes narrowing into slits, a storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface. "oh, here we go again. you always turn things around to make me the bad guy. maybe if you weren't so sensitive, we wouldn't have these problems."

you take a deep breath, your chest rising and falling with the effort, as tears begin to well up in your eyes, shimmering like fragile crystals on the verge of breaking. "sensitive? matt, you never take responsibility for how you treat me. it's always my fault somehow. i feel like i'm taking one step forward and then three steps back with you. it's exhausting."

matt rolls his eyes, a gesture laden with disdain, before throwing his hands up in exasperation, the motion a dramatic display of his mounting frustration. "well, maybe if you stopped overthinking everything, we'd be fine. i can't deal with your constant need for reassurance."

you move closer, each step heavy with emotion, your voice breaking like fragile glass under the weight of unspoken words. "i just want to feel loved and secure, matt. but with you, it's like i'm constantly guessing where i stand. one day you love me, the next day you push me away. it's breaking my heart."

matt scoffs, a derisive sound escaping his lips, as he shakes his head, the gesture filled with a blend of disbelief and contempt. "you're being ridiculous. if you can't handle me at my worst, maybe you don't deserve me at my best."

you wipe a tear from your cheek, the delicate motion betraying your vulnerability, as your voice emerges, barely a whisper, fragile and laden with unspoken sorrow. "i just wish you could see how much this is hurting me. i don't know how much more of this back and forth i can take."

matt crosses his arms, a barrier of defiance, and looks away, his voice cutting through the air with a frigid detachment. "maybe you should think about that."

you feel your heart shatter into a thousand irreparable fragments, the weight of his words sinking in like stones dragging you into the depths of despair. "is that what you really want? for me to leave?"

matt shrugs with an air of indifference, his eyes deliberately avoiding your gaze, as if the very act of looking at you would acknowledge the gravity of the moment. "i don't know. maybe it's for the best."

you take a step back, the ground beneath you feeling unsteady, as the room swirls around you in a dizzying maelstrom of confusion and disorientation. "i can't believe you would say that. after everything we've been through..."

matt finally turns his gaze towards you, his eyes a labyrinth of emotions, his expression an enigmatic mask that conceals the depths of his true feelings. "maybe it's time we both move on."

you turn and walk toward the door, each step weighed down by an unbearable sorrow, your heart a leaden anchor dragging through the sea of your despair. "i never thought it would end like this, matt. i loved you more than anything."

matt watches as you leave, a fleeting shadow of regret flickering across his face like a ghost of unspoken words. yet, he remains silent, his lips sealed by the weight of his own inaction, allowing you to slip away without a struggle.

you slam the door behind you with a resounding finality that reverberates through the empty corridors, each echo a testament to the storm brewing within. without even a flicker of awareness, you step into the relentless downpour, the cold rain mingling with the heat of your unresolved emotions, as if the heavens themselves weep in harmony with the tempest of your soul.

the raindrops, like silent witnesses to your sorrow, mingle with your tears, creating a symphony of despair. your hair, drenched and tangled, clings to your face, while your clothes, heavy with the weight of the storm, adhere to your skin, as if the very elements conspire to mirror the turmoil within.

»--•--«

the morning after was a wretched affair. you had barely crossed the threshold of your sanctuary before succumbing to the weight of your exhaustion, collapsing onto your bed as if the very essence of your being had been drained.

you lifted your head, the pillow bearing the telltale signs of your turmoil—mascara and tear stains mingling in a somber tapestry. with a groan, you came to the disheartening realization that you had succumbed to sleep with your makeup still on, the remnants of yesterday's trials etched upon your face.

you sat up, your feet meeting the unforgiving chill of the floor as you made your way to the bathroom. there, under the dim light, you meticulously rinsed away the remnants of your makeup, each stroke a small act of reclamation. finally, you brushed your teeth, the rhythmic motion offering a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.

you walked back over to your bed, sinking into its embrace as you reached for your phone. with a weary sigh, you began to scroll through it, the soft glow of the screen casting fleeting shadows on your face as you sought a momentary escape in its digital realm.

but then, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by the resonant chime of your doorbell, echoing through the stillness and pulling you back to reality.

you placed your phone gently on the bedside table, rising from your sanctuary and making your way towards the front door, each step a deliberate movement through the quietude of your home.

your fingertips grazed against the cold metal of the door handle, the chill seeping into your skin as you clicked it open, revealing matt standing outside, his presence stirring a whirlwind of emotions.

anger and fury surged through your veins, propelling you to slam the door shut with a forceful resolve, but in a swift motion, matt's hand intercepted it, halting its closure and igniting a silent, yet palpable, confrontation.

"wait, i just wanna talk," he uttered, his voice laced with a desperate urgency, each word a fragile plea hanging in the air between you, seeking to bridge the chasm of misunderstanding and hurt.

you stepped aside, granting him passage, and with a hesitant breath, he crossed the threshold, his presence altering the atmosphere with unspoken tension and unresolved emotions.

you both made your way to the living room, each step laden with the weight of unspoken words and simmering tension, the air thick with the anticipation of the conversation to come.

the morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft, ethereal glow across the living room, illuminating the dust motes that dance in the still air. matt sits on the edge of the couch, his shoulders hunched and his head cradled in his hands, a picture of silent despair.

as you cross your arms and step into the light, he looks up, his eyes brimming with a rare vulnerability, a silent plea for understanding and connection, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

“okay,” he begins, his voice softer than usual. he shifts slightly, the tension in his shoulders visible as he takes a deep breath. "i’ve been thinking a lot about what you said last night. i know i can be cold and push you away, and that's not fair to you. i guess i’ve been scared to let you in completely, but that’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you."

he stands, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each step is weighed down by the gravity of his words. he takes a hesitant step towards you, his gaze earnest and unwavering. "i’m sorry for making you feel like you’re walking on eggshells. you deserve to feel loved and secure, not constantly guessing where you stand. i’ve been selfish, and i see that now."

matt’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time, there’s a glimmer of genuine regret. he takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, as if gathering the courage to speak. "i don't want to lose you. i promise to work on being more consistent and taking responsibility for my actions. you mean too much to me to keep hurting you like this."

his voice breaks slightly as he continues, his hands trembling ever so slightly. "please, give me another chance to show you that i can be the partner you deserve. i love you, and i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

he takes another step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively, fingers trembling as if afraid you might pull away. his eyes, brimming with unshed tears, lock onto yours with an intensity that speaks volumes. "i know words are not enough, and trust must be rebuilt. but i am ready to put in the effort, to prove to you that i can change. every day, i will strive to be better, not just for you, but for us."

matt’s voice trembles with emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "i’ve realized that pushing you away was my way of protecting myself, but in doing so, i’ve hurt the person i care about the most. i can’t bear the thought of a life without you. please, let me show you that i can be the man you fell in love with, the one who cherishes every moment with you."

he pauses, taking a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as if he’s trying to steady the storm of emotions within him, "i understand if you need time to think about this, and i will respect whatever decision you make. just know that i am here, ready to fight for us, ready to love you the way you deserve to be loved."

matt’s eyes are now brimming with unshed tears, his vulnerability laid bare before you, like an open book revealing its most fragile pages. "i love you more than words can express, and i am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. please, give me another chance."

you connect your lips with his, and for once, it feels as though you’ve taken a monumental step forward without the burden of retreating several steps back. in that fleeting yet profound moment, the weight of past missteps and hesitations seems to dissolve, leaving only the pure, unadulterated connection between your souls.

[shelikesorchids-archive]

CADENCE: Part One

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Audio Erotica Reader

Summary: Matt can't wait to get home to listen to your latest audio. He's a loyal subscriber, and you get him worked up like no one else does.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. Mutual masturbation (sort of), pillow humping, dirty talk, some light sacrilege. You know, THE GOOD GOOD. Reminder that you are responsible for what you see once you click "Read More".

Author's Note: I would like to thank the Academy (@bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms and @souliebird) for enabling this. Edited, but not beta read, we die like Ray Nadeem (RIP). ENJOY!

Divider by @saradika

Matt was sitting at his desk going over a deposition when his phone buzzed with a new notification. He had been waiting for word on something specific, so he switched his headphones from his laptop to his phone to see what it was. As soon as he heard the source of the notification, he slammed his laptop shut and started packing up his things to leave. Foggy heard the commotion from his office and came to check on Matt to make sure everything was okay. 

“Hey, buddy. You okay?” 

“Yeah, Fog. Just feeling a headache coming on. The seasons are changing and you know how that messes with me,” Matt replied as he stuffed his laptop in his bag. 

“You want me to walk with you?”

“No, it’s okay, Fog. I can make it just fine.” 

“Alright, buddy. But text me when you get home. You know I worry about you and your headaches,” Foggy called out as Matt walked out the door. 

“I know, Foggy. But I’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, buddy!” 

—--------------------------------------------------

Matt walked home as quickly as he could, resisting the urge to break into a full on sprint. Once he made it to his building, he dashed up the stairs two at a time, and threw off his jacket as soon as he shut his door behind him. He furiously loosened his tie as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and used the voice command to open up the notification once again. This time when he opened it, he was met with the sound of your voice. 

“Hey baby, I missed you. Did you miss me?” 

Your smooth and sugary voice went straight to his cock, so he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, stepping out of them on his living room floor. He palmed over the bulge in his black boxers and pulled off his tie before going to work unbuttoning his shirt as your voice continued to play through his phone.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I even had to excuse myself from a meeting to go touch myself in the bathroom, but I wished it was your hand. You know just what to do to make me feel good.” 

Matt was so caught up in your voice that it took him a moment to realize he was now half naked in his living room, right on display in front of the window. Truthfully, he didn’t care if the neighbors saw him, but he grabbed his phone and went into his bedroom. He placed his phone on the nightstand, shed his boxers, and climbed under his silk sheets. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out as he slowly stroked his cock while you continued to talk. 

“Am I turning you on, baby? I can see you’re getting awfully worked up in those dress pants. I’m getting pretty wet, myself. You’re so fucking hot. You wanna watch while I rub my clit?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Make those pretty noises for me,” he replied as if you were in the room with him.

You let out a moan as you rubbed your clit, and Matt swore he could hear how wet you were. He started stroking his cock faster and you moaned louder. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Yes, come for me, sweetheart. Fucking scream for me.” 

“But I wanna come with your cock inside me, so I’ll wait for you. I want you to feel me, and I want to feel you. Let’s come together, baby.” 

Suddenly his hand wasn’t good enough anymore, so he sat up in the bed and stuffed one of his pillows between his thighs to straddle it. The cool silk of the pillowcase felt like heaven against his achingly hard cock that was dripping with precum and begging for release. He started counting the Hail Mary’s he was going to have to say later for this depraved act in his head, but in the moment, he couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“You’re so big, baby. Do you think you’ll fit?”

“I’ll go slow, sweetheart, I promise. We can make it fit.” 

Matt rolled his hips against the pillow at the same time you let out another moan, and he grabbed onto his headboard for leverage. 

“You feel so good, filling me up so perfectly. Fuck me, baby” 

“You feel good too. I’ll go slow at first. I want to feel you.” 

“You’re not gonna hurt me, I can handle it. Just fuck me, baby. Please.” 

“How can I say no when you asked so nicely?” he purred. 

He quickened his pace as you continued making soft sounds of pleasure. He should be ashamed of what he’s doing: fucking his pillow while listening to audio porn and responding back to you as if you could hear him. But, he didn’t care. Once he accidentally discovered erotic audios, he couldn’t get enough, and you were his favorite creator. Your voice was like a drug to him, and he was always jonesing for another hit. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually fuck you instead of his pillow, but he would have to settle for this for now. 

“Oh, fuck I’m so close. I’m gonna come baby. Are you gonna come too?” 

“Fuck. Yeah, sweetheart I’m gonna come.” 

“Come inside me.”

You let out a guttural, almost feral moan, and Matt screamed in tandem with you. His thrusts became more erratic, sweat was beading on his forehead, and he was white knuckling the headboard. He was getting closer with every sound you made, and he wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. 

“Oh, OH F-FUCK.” 

“Yes, sweetheart. Oh yes, oh FUCK.” 

His chest heaved, his breathing was ragged, and his hips stuttered into the pillow as he came hard. He collapsed backward onto the mattress, a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body. “Shit,” he breathed out as he ran one of his hands down his face. 

“Did you like that? Be sure to subscribe for more, and don’t be shy about leaving me a comment! Until next time, audiophiles…”

After a few minutes, Matt sat up and reached for his phone to close the app. He knew that pillowcase was ruined, but that could wait. He stood up on shaky legs and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. As much as he loved your voice, and how turned on he got by it, he longed to have you in his bed so he could hold you afterwards, and maybe even join him in the shower. 

When he was done washing the post-coital sweat off his body, he dried off and put on a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants, threw the defiled pillowcase in the trash, and sat down to leave you a comment on your latest audio that he got off to. He set his phone back on his nightstand, laid down in bed, and allowed his mind to wander about how you actually felt and how your skin smelled. Maybe one day he could find someone with a voice as gorgeous as yours. 

—-----------------------------------------------

The “CLOSED” sign had long since been displayed in the door of the coffee shop, and you were finally done with your closing duties for the evening. Your boss said you were free to go, so you grabbed your bag and your jacket, said your goodbyes, and headed out to your shoebox of an apartment. You loved living in New York City, but it was expensive, and just being a barista didn’t pay the bills. No one knew about your “side hustle”, and you liked it that way. It was oddly empowering to you that you were a caffeine peddler by day, but you used your voice to get people off by night. It was perfect because you could have fun living out your own fantasies, but no one knew your face. 

After scarfing down the take out you picked up on your way home, you sat down to check the notifications on your latest audio post. There were always lots of comments to sift through, but there was one username in particular that commented on every single audio you posted, and you always looked forward to their comments. 

As you scrolled through the comments, you finally saw the one you were looking for: “rllygdlwyr commented: So hot as always, sweetheart. I ruined a silk pillowcase with this one. May have to start buying them in bulk if you keep this up.” 

You laughed and bit your lip at the comment. Normally, subscribers calling you pet names would creep you out, but this one was loyal, and they pretty much paid for your take out habit with their subscription and their tips. As much as you hated to admit it, they kind of kept you going.

Once you were done checking your account and responding to comments, you took a shower, put on some slinky lingerie, and pulled out your favorite toys to make a new audio. According to their username, they were most likely a lawyer, so tonight you decided to try a little roleplay. 

“I’m afraid I’m guilty, but is there anything I can do to lessen my sentence? I heard you’re a really good lawyer.” 

[shelbycragg]

By popular demand, the Gas Giant Glow and Spiral Glow gouache painting prints are BACK IN STOCK! Printed on high quality Archival Matte Giclée paper, these prints make the perfect addition to the home of any space lover. Supplies are limited and these tend to sell out, so get them while you can!

[tobereadindiapers-again]

The Nurse Pt 1.

You laid on the cold, hard hospital bed starring at the ceiling, trying your best to hold back your tears. Your tears were the final thing you felt you still had some control of, the final connection you felt you had to your masculinity, they fell despite your best effort. The diaper wrapped around your midsection warmed as you felt urine trickle over your now hairless balls and absorb in the soft damp padding under your cheeks, as if to confirm your masculinity was indeed a thing of the past.

You tried not to let the diagnosis replay itself in your head for the millionth time, but it seemed, as if with all things, that too was out of your control. "The surgery had some unexpected complications." "Fully incontinent" "adult briefs". You ventured a feel under your blanket. Hand running under the hospital gown to collide abruptly with smooth plastic. You ran your hand over the swollen bulge probing gingerly at the soft padding. It was so thick you could hardly feel your own dick through all of the padding. 

"Diapers", you thought, "I'm going to be stuck in diapers for the rest of my life." The tears came unabated now. 

There was a sudden knock at the door, and it creaked open. 

"Mr.... Mr. Smith?"

You quickly pulled your hand from under your sheets, and tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

You clear your throat and sit up with a sniffle. "Erhm, yes. Yes that's me."

You were dismayed to see the nurse that entered the room was some 5 years your junior, and absolutely beautiful. You could read on her face that your attempts to hide your emotions had been futile. She wore a mask of sadness and pity. 

"I'm sorry, do you... do you need a minute?" She asked, brushing her hair back anxiously with her fingers.

"No, no. I'm... I'm fine." You say trying to regain your composure. "What, what is it?"

"Well I'm here to ummm, well, to get you cleaned up."

"Oh..." you stammer, the reality of the situation donning on you. "No, there's no need for you to do that. I can manage it I'm sure."

"Yeah, um, I'm sure you can, but you see it's hospital policy I'm afraid. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I uh, well I do this all the time, haha." She chuckled the last part uncomfortably.

"What? Why is that hospital policy? I promise it's not an issue."

"Yes, I know I know. I wish that wasn't the case, but I'm sure you can understand, a lot of our other patients who have... recently started using protection, are much less capable of you, and well some of them get embarrassed as well. We, need to be certain that you're changed" she paused "that you have adequate protection until you are discharged from our care. It's a legal thing, I'm sure you understand, right? Plus! Looking at your chart it seems we're just holding you overnight for observation, so you'll be out of here and on your own by tomorrow morning! Isn't that good news?"

Tears once again stung the back of your eyes. "Please be quick." You affirmed with a crack in your voice. 

The nurse nodded curtly and started pulling on her nitrile gloves. From under your bed she produced a fresh folded diaper, a plastic tube of ointment, a large plastic bottle, and a package of wipes. 'So much equipment' you thought. So much is needed for me just to use the bathroom now.' She placed all of it beside you and stopped.

"I'm Sarah" she said.

"Matt." You replied looking away.

"Nice to meet you Matt. I'm sorry that this is happening to you. But you should know you're not alone. I see patients everyday that need to wear protection. I know it seems like the end of the world right now, but I promise in the grand scheme of things it's really not that bad."

You nod quietly, afraid to speak for fear of loosing your cool, and crying through your first diaper change as an 'adult'. You knew she was lying. How many diapers did she ever change on a 30 year old man? ZERO. That was your bet.

"Now, I understand this is your first time wearing a brief?"

"Diaper" you thought, lips pursed tightly. She didn't continue. Finally you nodded.

"Right, well, with you being discharged tomorrow I'm going to show you some things ok. I promise I'm a real pro."

With that she unfolded the tightly packed diaper and crumpled it back and forth in her hands, as if to advertise: this is how loud and noticeable the diaper will be.

"We call this floofing. It breaks up the material so it's softer and more absorbent." She explained. "Now," she pulled your hospital sheet off of you and began to pull up your gown.

Reflexively you grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away.

"Mr... Matt, please. I promise it's nothing I haven't seen. I'm trying to 'be quick' remember?"

You release your grip on the soft smooth skin of her forearm and let your hand fall. Suddenly ashamed and embarrassed at your outburst. 

"I'm sorry." You stammer, stealing yourself for the inevitable. 

"That's ok. I know this must be hard for you." She says pulling up your gown to reveal your sodden yellowed diaper. 

You couldn't help but look down at yourself. The infantile plastic fabric mounded between your legs seemed huge. Worse yet it was stained yellow, with your piss. "When did I do all that?" You thought. For the first time since Sarah had entered a tinge of fear overpowered your humiliation. "Do I really have that little control of myself now? Am I really that broken?"

As if answering your unspoken questions, Sarah continued. "Now, if you're changing lying down, you'll want to place the fresh diap.. brief underneath yourself in case you have a little accident midway through. That way it will all go in the new brief. Can you lift your butt up for me."

This was all too much. You numbly thrust your diapered crotch into the air for the whole world to see. Not least of which this poor beautiful woman beside you, whose face was practically pressed up against it, forced to endure changing the piss soaked rags of the invalid before her.

She daftly slid the unfolded diaper beneath you. "And down. Very good!" She nearly cooed. "Now, we just take the old one off." With each deafening rip of tape your anxiety built to a crescendo. Finally the sodden diaper lay tapeless across your shame. Sarah smiled a fake smile to no one and peeled back the top of the diaper to expose your hairless, piss covered groin to the room. You looked down at yourself, and at her sitting beside you. You felt as though your dick wasn't even yours anymore. Useless now, dribbling pee at random, and hairless, shaved while you were out during surgery. It looked and felt so juvenile. YOU looked and felt so juvenile, you thought. And you to make everything worse you were experiencing your new body for the first time with this beautiful young stranger. You glanced over at her, as if to find some comfort, some understanding, but there was nothing but the same sad, pitiful look on her face.

"Now, your number one concern with incontinence is actually skin care." Sarah said putting on a brave face. "So you want to make sure you clean up thoroughly during every change." She explained pulling wet wipes from their packs. 

You flinched away as she began to wipe you down. 

"Sorry, they're cold." She said smiling at you, and making eye contact for the first time since the change began. 

They were cold, but you weren't sure that was exactly why you flinched. Perhaps it was the obscene humiliation of a complete stranger wiping your own piss off your most intimate area, and a beautiful stranger at that. 

It occurred to you that just a day or two ago, the only interactions you'd have had with a beautiful woman and your dick would have been a fun sexual encounter. This couldn't be any further from a sexual encounter, despite having her gloved hand petting your dick at that very moment. You weren't a sexual partner. You were just a smelly, humiliating burden. 

"Now, I know you probably don't want to hear this, but if I were you, I would continue to remove your pubic hair. I know that may make you feel... a certain way, but trust me, having hair down there makes clean up WAY harder, and it can hold in smell, and you DEFINITELY don't want that. But of course that's totally up to you. That's just my two cents!" She finished cheerily.

Just when you thought your humiliation had peaked, more is piled on. You had assumed your hair removal was part of the procedure. That you could grow it back like the man you are. But no, being clean shaven is just another part of being in diapers.

"Ok! You're all clean! So now you can change into your new brief!" She said with false cheer. "Lift up."

For the final time you thrust your groin into the air, right by this poor woman's face. She pulled the sodden diaper from beneath you, and you lowered yourself onto the fresh diaper. 'Never not in a diaper' you thought. 

"Very good." Sarah said rolling up your used diaper. "You can roll these right up like this and tape them back closed like this." She explained, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to teach someone how to dispose of their used diapers. "Now. Remember how I said skin care is  super important?" You nodded numbly. "This is where you will want to be very meticulous with that. The first thing I like to do is apply the barrier cream. According to your chart you're fully incontinent correct? And the doctor explained what that means?"

"Yes." You mumbled meekly.

"So we expect you'll be passing stool into your diapers as well." She paused, presumably catching herself using the 'd' word, then powered through. "Prolonged exposure to your feces will break down your skin much faster than urine, so you'll want to change yourself as soon as possible. However that's not always possible, so it's highly recommended you apply a barrier cream"

'You'll be passing stool into your diapers' she had said. YOUR diapers. YOU WILL BE SHITTING IN YOUR DIAPERS. This is your reality now. Presumably for the rest of your life.

Sarah squeezed a line of ointment onto her gloved index finger. "This should be about how much you want. Oh! And definitely you'll want to wear gloves. These ointments can be really greasy." She explained.

Without further explanation she reached down and pulled your nutsack back and slid her lubed finger between your cheeks. You could feel her smearing the greasy ointment outward across your butt. 

"Make sure at the very least you cover your bottom, and the back of your scrotum. That's the area most likely to be in contact with feces."

To your absolute horror, you felt your member began to grow at her touch. Pulsating as it filled with blood, despite your state. It was all just too much. Tears again began to fall silently down your cheeks.

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed despite her attempts at professionalism. She looked back at you and exclaimed again. "Oh, no, no, no. Please don't cry. This is totally natural. I completely understand it's all beyond your control. And hey, this is really really good news for you right. We were uncertain in the procedure would result in importance as well right?"

Your tears continued unabated.

"Hey hey hey!" She continued trying to console you, "this is great news! Your dick still works! Right!" She smiled jokingly, relieving some of the tension in the room.

You smiled despite yourself. Wiping the tears away and nodding. "Thank you." You said.

"Ok, ok we're almost done! Hang in there." She said. "This is just oil. I'll be honest it's J&J baby oil. There's no getting around it, that's just what works as an all a round barrier to protect your skin." She was rushing now. Clearly as eager to get this over with now as you were.

She splashed a few dabs onto your groin where your hair used to be, and started rubbing it in around your now fully erect penis. 

"Just try and cover all of your private area with this AT LEAST once a day. I recommend after your morning diaper change when you're out of the shower. But after every diaper change would be better" She had dropped all pretenses in her hurry to get away from your erection that had become the hairless elephant in the room. 

You noticed with dismay that while Sarah oiled you up, urine trickled from the head of your penis onto your stomach, pooling a bit and rolling down your side into the fresh diaper beneath you. The realization that you truly had NO control dawned on you fully. What good was it being able to have an erection if it was always going to be leaking piss anyway?

"Ooops!" She said cheerfully, wiping the fresh urine off of your stomach. "Ok! Last bit, is the powder!" She said not missing a beat. She explained all of the different types you could purchase as she sprinkled the flagrant powder over your glistening freshly oiled erection and balls. You didn't catch much of what she said. All you could think about was the smell. Baby. It was baby powder. You smell like a baby now. And why shouldn't you? wrapped in your diaper, and covered in your own fluid. It was only fitting you now also SMELL like a baby.

"....use this EVERY TIME you change." She finished. "And that's it! Now we just tape you up."

She pulled the top of your new diaper up and over your penis. Pinning your still erect penis to your tummy.

"And then it's just one, two, three, four." She explained as she taped the fresh diaper in place. "Some people like to tape a different order, but that's what I like." She said, hurriedly pulling your gown back down to cover your new diaper before you had a chance to inspect it.

"Now what I would do," she explained "is stand up and test the fit. That's important if you change yourself laying down."

After such a thoroughly humiliating experience, you felt absolute relief at once again being covered and hidden from her, even if it was just by a thin hospital gown that did little to nothing to hide the outline of the diaper. Slowly you sat up and swung your feet over the side of the bed and stood. You winced painfully at the surprisingly loud crinkles your diaper made along the way. Finally you stood. You were a full head taller than Sarah you noticed. It felt weird standing in front of her like this. So close. Your boner, fully known to both of you, still straining against its new plastic prison. 

"Now how does it feel?" She asked "run your fingers along the leg holes to make sure it's not too tight there. You can always readjust accordingly."

"It feels pretty humiliating." You said half jokingly.

You hoped it would lighten the mood some, but she just looked at you with the same sad pity. 

"You'll get used to it. You'll see. This is your life now, and it's best if you try not to fight it. Okay? You'll be alright. Just a learning curve is all." She smiled and threw your used diaper in the trash by the door, and sorted your supplies back under your bed.

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, feeling the slick ointment between your cheeks, and the heft of the diaper between your legs. You stopped moving to avoid the obvious crinkles you were producing not wanting to draw attention to it. Dumb you thought, given all that just happened.

Satisfied with her cleaning Sarah stood to leave. "I'll be on shift all night ok? So just press that button there if you need anything. It was nice to meet you Matt. You're going to be ok"

"Thank you Sarah." You said abashedly.

She turned in the door, "and Matt,"

You looked up expectantly from your diaper bulge.

"When your penis settles down, reach in and point it back towards the bottom of your diaper, or you'll leak." She smiled, nodded and was gone.

"Your diaper" you said quietly. You wear diapers now. "And you'd better get used to it."

END OF PART ONE

As part of an AI Art experiment, please feel free to edit the photo used in this caption. If you enjoyed this story and would like to see it continue, please submit your edited photos to me. 

Thank you.

[courtforshort15]

How Sweet It Is (to be loved by you)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 3,300

Summary: Matt Murdock is the sweetest man you’ve ever known.

Warnings: Sweet and gentle smut. Yup, good old College!Matt taking care of reader during her first time.

Masterlist

Matt Murdock is a lot of things.

Intense.

Passionate.

Intelligent. 

Resilient. 

Beautiful. 

But your favorite thing that he is...is sweet.

No one should be that happy to attend a grueling class about civil law, but Matt has always been the exception, not the rule, throwing everyone off their axis, time and time again.

He is sweet in the way that he walks you to as many of your classes as he can, hand linked with yours, despite the fact that sometimes you think it should be the other way around, that you should be the one guiding him to his own classes, helping him navigate through the crowds of students and finding an empty seat in a lecture hall. But Matt Murdock knows the campus like the back of his hand, so you don't worry about him making his way to where he needs to be, knowing he’ll make it just fine on his own with a backpack thrown over his shoulder and a charming smile lighting up his face.

He is sweet in the way that he stays up late to help you study for exams. He helps you prepare note cards, quizzing you on facts and terms that he has long since mastered. He is two years ahead of you in the law program, and while he has plenty of homework and papers he could be working on, he always makes sure you're settled and confident in your own knowledge and abilities before he moves on to his own assignments.

He is sweet in the way that he rubs your back and whispers soothing words into your ears while you're in the middle of an anxiety attack, hands clenched in his t-shirt and helpless tears sliding down your face through wet eyelashes, trying and failing to match your breathing to his. He asks you what you need from him, what he can do to make it better, and when you tell him that all you need is for him to hold you, he keeps you pressed up against him for the rest of the night and into the morning, hand rubbing up and down your back in a motion that reminds you of the way your father used to comfort you through thunderstorms. 

He is sweet in the way that when he kisses you, it's with everything he has. You are his sole focus, the only thing he is thinking about when his mouth is on yours, soft lips shifting between petal light and the kind of passion you’ve only ever seen on a movie screen. The hands he roams over your body vary in their pressure, vary in their intensity, but they are always soft and ready to slow down and ease up if you need.

He is sweet the first time he's inside of you, the first time anyone is inside you, and you can’t think of anyone you’d rather experience this with first.

To be honest, you can’t think of anyone you’d rather experience this with ever.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his mouth ghosting over yours as he helps you remove your pants, tossing them to the carpeted floor in his bedroom, the off-campus apartment he shares with Foggy a far cry from your cramped dorm room. Your shirt and bra soon follow, a gentle movement of color that lands somewhere behind you.

"Yes," you say in reply, reaching for his own clothing and failing miserably to remove them, fingers trembling in nerves and a level of eagerness you haven’t felt before. He steadies your hands, raising them to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the knuckles, before he takes his shirt off himself, exposing broad shoulders that already carry so much weight on them, though the weight never dims the smiles that he sends your way. 

It's not the first time you've seen him without anything covering his chest, having spent time pressed against him as he gently tore your boundaries down through smooth skin and patience as he waited for you to be ready for this exact moment. But it's the first time you've seen him like this, bathed in the moonlight that's streaming through the window, face a mixture of anticipation, excitement and the flash of hunger that’s been appearing on his face more and more often.

You know that if he could see, he’d find the exact same look staring back at him. 

He's sweet in the way he leans into you and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, a thoughtful and wordless way to remind you that he's going to take good care of you as the pair of you move into this next step of your relationship. You can feel his want pressing into your abdomen, an aching testament to his desire for you, but you have no doubt that he’d stop if you asked him to, your name on his lips shifting from passion to comfort immediately and without question.

You have no intention of asking him to stop tonight, though.

Matt's lowering you to his bed before you know it, placing you so that you're on your side facing him. He's pressed against you in a way that leaves little to the imagination of how much he wants you, and you can’t help but rock into him, savoring the small gasp that leaves through his parted lips. His skin is nearly scalding, but the heat barely registers because the temperature matches yours, and how can he burn you anymore than you’re already burning? 

He is sweet in the way he pushes your hair back behind your ear, wanting full access to your face, fingers trailing down your cheek and cupping your jaw so that he can lift your mouth towards his, dark eyes fluttering shut. The hand slides into your hair once his lips have captured yours, cradling the back of your head in his palm, the pressure tender even while it’s firm.

With your free hand, you slide your fingers into his silk boxers, marveling at how the skin is somehow unbelievably softer than the fabric. It matches, you suppose, the texture of his skin as gentle underneath your fingertips as the sound of your name leaving his lips. Your hand slides lower so that you can grasp him fully, and while it's not the first time you've held him in your palm, it's still the first time you've been ready to cradle him in a different part of your body. 

He helps you push his boxers down his hips before he slowly removes your own underwear, fingers pausing to draw a few circles on the inside of one of your thighs, and the movement is more sensual than you could have ever imagined. You are completely bare to him in a way you haven't been before, and though you know he can't see you, you delight in the way that he already knows your body far better than you do.

Matt has spent time tracing every bump and scar of your body, reading them as easily as he does the bumps of braille on a piece of paper, studying every reaction you have to his hands on your body. He has learned to use each sigh and gasp and movement to his advantage as he pushes you to a peak only he can give, and you can do nothing but moan in his ear as he whispers words of love and praise into your skin.

He is sweet in the way that he gently coaxes your thighs apart, fingers urging you to open for him, voice quiet in your ear to once again ask if you're alright with the way he's touching you. You kiss him in response, offering him a level of comfort that comes with another wordless reply of your shy but enthusiastic consent, and his hand settles between your legs and over the place that aches for him the most.

"You're so wet for me, sweetheart," he breathes against your cheek as he lifts your leg to lay across his hip, encouraging you to sink closer into his side as he slowly slides a finger into you. Your body accepts him as eagerly as it had the first time he had touched you weeks ago, and you’re helpless to do anything but sigh and press further into his hand. You're not exactly a stranger to his fingers inside of you, but this time the intention is to not only make you feel good, but to also prepare your body for the rest of him, and the knowledge causes goosebumps to creep up and down your arms.

He adds a second finger, and the stretch causes a gasp, which he quickly swallows down as he leans forwards to press his mouth against yours. His breathing is in sync with yours, a steady in and out that’s increasing in its frequency as the two of you further explore the flesh and bone and muscle that you've laid out for each other.  

He encourages you to finally roll over so that you're fully on your back, and once you're settled, he hums in contentment. Leaning down, Matt allows his mouth to trail down your jaw, down your neck, and over your breast where he pulls a nipple lightly between his teeth, laughing lightly as you arch into him. He adjusts his body so that he's stretched out above you, though most of his weight is resting on the arm and hand that's been placed next to your head, always so careful to not hurt you or cause any sort of discomfort. 

He always treats you like stained glass, though not in a way that suggests you’re fragile or easily broken, but in the way that says you’re far too precious for him to ever let go of.

"You're such a good girl for me," he whispers, and he's just loud enough that you don't have to strain your hearing to make out what he's saying. The praise causes your face to flush hotter than it already is, and you can't think of a coherent reply, too lost and too dizzy with the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s playing your body like a violin. Instead, your fingers drum a light pattern on the shoulders they've wrapped around, and he shudders at the contact. 

You love knowing that his body is every bit as sensitive as yours when it comes to your fingertips tracing over his own skin.

He is sweet in the way he continues his journey further down until his mouth is above where he knows you ache for him. With no thought of himself, he lays down on his stomach, resting his weight on his elbows, and uses the fingers on one hand to part you. His mouth is on your clit a second later, tongue lightly circling around it, and you moan quietly, his name on your lips. The sound must spur him on, because while he starts out soft and tender, his mouth gradually speeds up and increases in intensity.

He wrecks you with his lips and tongue and fingers, and it's not long before you're gasping through your release, one hand grasping his bedsheet so tightly you're shocked you haven't ripped it, the other hand buried in his hair. Somewhere along the way he had placed an arm strong as steel over your abdomen in an effort to keep you still while he tore you apart. 

Matt makes his way slowly back up your body, pausing here and there to place kisses along your hips and abdomen and chest, lips glistening even while they open in a smile that somehow is a combination of smug satisfaction and a look that is so soft and affectionate it makes your heart stutter.

"You okay?" he asks again, the dry fingers that hadn't been inside you softly caressing your cheek. His eyes are glazed and unfocused, but you look up and admire the color and the way they almost seem to dance around your face. You’re not sure how you’d ever survive without him, this man who had asked to share a table with you in the crowded library just six months ago, this man who had the ability to make you feel so seen despite his lack of sight. 

"More than okay," you whisper back, your voice breathless as you lift your own hand to run it through his dark hair. He takes the opportunity to kiss your fingers as they trail down his cheek and briefly over his lips, smiling as he does so. 

"Do you still want to--"

With a quiet laugh, you pull him down for a full kiss, tongue immediately pushing into his mouth that remains slightly parted in a grin, and he echoes your brief huff of laughter. It quickly turns into a moan, as does yours when he grinds his hips into you before he reluctantly tears himself away, a small smirk appearing on his face. 

Matt reaches over you to grab a condom off of his night table, and you watch as he sits back on to his heels to slide it on, briefly mourning the thought that you won't feel the silk of his cock pressing into you, but you figure one day you’ll get to that point. There's no reason to rush it now. 

He is sweet in the way he checks in with you again, hand returning to your cheek, an easy way for him to map out the expression on your face. He smiles when his fingers run over your lips, no doubt discovering your own smile that you're wearing, the one that you seem to wear solely for him. You nod, quietly giving your consent once more, and he wordlessly helps you to spread your legs wider so that he may fully lay between them, the heat of skin settling almost completely into yours.

He drags his cock through your folds, catching your earlier release on the tip to slick the way, and with a deep breath, he pushes in. There's a slight burn at the stretch, but you embrace it wholeheartedly, knowing it’s simply the stretch of Matt finding yet another way to make himself home within you. Touching Matt this way, feeling him this way, is something you've been thinking about since the first time he kissed you.

He is sweet in the way that he goes slow, patiently waiting for you to adjust and feel comfortable, and it's not long before he's seated completely inside you, hips snug against yours. He leans down to kiss you, red lips caressing yours softly at first before it shifts into something that's a little more heated, a little more passionate, perhaps a prelude for what’s to come. 

"You're doing so well for me, sweetheart," he says against your mouth, and the words make you sigh in response, hips once again tilting up to rock into him, and he retaliates with a slight withdrawal and careful push back in, causing you to close your eyes with a quiet gasp. "You feel so good. Does it feel good for you, too?"

"Yes," you tell him truthfully once you reopen your eyes, hand running down his back, the skin just as soft as the front of him and warm to the touch. "You feel perfect."

You feel his mouth split into a grin against yours, and you can't help but let out another quiet groan when he pulls out of you slightly before sliding back in. He is beautiful like this, pressed against you, cheeks flushed, damp hair resting on his forehead. You reach up to push his dark hair away from his face and trail your fingers down his cheek, and even while he continues to slide in and out of you, he turns his head to press a kiss against your wrist. 

You've heard many terms used to describe what you're experiencing with Matt. 

Having sex.

Screwing.

Fucking.

But none of those accurately or even come close to the feeling of this. You've never liked the term making love, finding it somewhat cheesy for whatever reason, but here in the moment with him, nothing else sounds more right, nothing else captures what it feels like to be with him like this. The way your bodies move together is selfless, seeking the other's breaking point, savoring each breath that's gasped out, each slide of skin against skin. 

He is sweet in the way he makes sure you come first, fingers running down your body to eventually press and rub over your clit, a slow grind meant to both make the moment last while also sending you rushing towards your peak, one that gets closer and closer with every thrust and press of his hips against yours. With his lips hovering just above yours, barely half an inch away, he tells you how much he wants you to come for him, tells you how perfect you feel underneath him and wrapped around him in every way you can be. 

He rests on top of you for a few minutes afterwards, sweat soaked skin pressed into sweat soaked skin, and the weight of him somehow still feels weightless, as if holding him to you like this is the most natural thing in the world. When he pulls out with a gentle kiss to your forehead, you can't help but reach for him again, despite the fact that he only takes one step away from the bed to throw away the condom. You're back in his arms a split second later, and the world rights itself once more.

When he tells you that just once will never be enough for him, that he will always need this with you, that being inside of you is the first place he's felt at home in years, you absolutely shatter. The way your clench around him, crying out his name, sends Matt to his own release, his lips immediately crashing to yours in effort to touch as much of you as possible. 

"I love you," he whispers into your ear, pulling you as tightly against him as possible, angling your head so that it rests on his shoulder, yanking up the top sheet to cover you both as he gently presses your face into his neck. It's the most vulnerable part of his body, and he exposes it to you, no questions asked. 

"I love you, too," you tell him quietly. Your hand moves to where he's wrapped his own around your waist, lacing your fingers with his. It's not the first time you've said the words to each other, but this time there’s the feeling of added weight to it that you're not sure to describe other than to say that it just feels like more.

He is sweet in the way that those words continue to fall from his lips as easily as breathing for the rest of your lives, despite the hardships and complications and revelations that come along the way. He is still sweet in the way he walks you to places you're more than capable of walking to by yourself, simply so that he can have just a few extra minutes of being next to you. He is still sweet in the way he stays up with you the nights before big cases you're up against, even while he's exhausted and being bandaged up at the kitchen table. He's still sweet in the way he holds you during anxiety attacks, and the way he kisses you like it's the first time his mouth is on yours.

He is still sweet as he slides a wedding band on your finger in front of friends and family, promising to love you and give you all that he has, day in and day out, asking with dark eyes and cherry red lips for nothing but the same promise in return. He’s no longer hesitant in the question, an early life of abandonment having given way to the endless love and commitment you’ve pressed into his skin over the years.

Even through various frustrations and tears, you’ve found yourself forever unable to be anything but sweet to him in return.

[sturnzyolo]

Shadows

Matt Sturniolo x fem reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, a little eerie scenery, crying, stress, bullying mention, comfort, anxiety, and slight obsession (anything else will be added in later parts)

slight summary/teaser: reader feels a significant connection to a particular classmate of hers, her teacher's favorite student. One day, when on her way home, she hears something.

⚠️ my first ever fic so don't hate if it's absolute shit although I take honors english + I will NOT be writing any smut, (sorry u horndoggaroonies) bc I believe my digital footprint is terrible as is, so. let's not add onto it!

(I hate having to copy and paste this everytime)

PART 2

Y/N POV

I was quite close to the principal, she knew how I was with Mr. Robinson, so she always excused me from whatever trouble he gave me. She was quite sweet and usually would just have a conversation with me before sending me back to class or to just roam around til I felt like heading back, which I appreciated from her.

This time I decided to just roam around the first floor hallways, my school was huge, but it was pretty old so honestly sometimes it felt a bit creepy.

I was even more creeped out when I heard a muffle cry from the boy bathroom, obviously I couldn't go in there, but I felt bad if I just completely left.

"Hello? Are you okay in there?" I asked softly outside the bathroom door with a quiet knock. I didn't want to startle whoever was in there, but I did want to check on them anyway.

I heard a trembled response, like they were rushing to fix themselves or choking up tears. "Uh yeah, I'm fine sorry" the voice said back in almost a stutter

I knew the voice, even just how he spoke and apologized, it had to be Matt. For some reason I always felt connected to Matt, in a weird way I always thought we would've been friends but I knew it probably wouldn't happen since he was honestly shy himself. The reason I even felt that way is because he reminded me of myself sometimes, although I'm a bit outgoing in school and always with people, I did have my downs at times and Matt reminded me of how I used to feel, and it made me want to help him.

"Matt? It's Y/N, are you sure you don't want to come out and talk about it?" I asked quietly behind the door so nobody around could pick up what I was saying. I probably looked crazy and weird being pent up against the boys' bathroom talking to whomever was behind the door.

I felt the door open slowly as I stepped back. "Hey, sorry I just felt anxious that's all" He said quietly as he looked down while he closed the door behind him. I could tell there was more behind what he was telling me, but I wasn't one to push boundaries, I mean he could barely even look at me.

"Can I do anything to help?" I asked as I took in any of his mannerisms and his appearance. I noticed his finger tips were red, his nails were messed up, it was evident that he bit them almost all the way down, but I wasn't going to bring it up incase of anything.

"No.. I'm fine really, just felt overwhelmed" It was very clear he was embarrassed by me finding him, and I felt bad it I continued to ask him anything.

"Okay, well I can walk back to class with you, if you want" I offered as my eyes traveled around his figure

"Yeah, okay, thank you y/n" Matt finally looked up, his eyes were slightly puffy, his eyes behind his glasses' lense were almost red from tears but his face was stained with them, I put my hands up to wipe them "May I?" I asked as I looked into his eyes for any kind of assurance or hesitance to my offer

(corny asf sorry guys 😔)

He responded in a slight nod, I carefully took my hands and placed them loosely on the sides of his cheeks. Matt wasn't too tall, about 5'8, which wasn't much taller than me, but enough for me to slightly be looking up towards him

(sorry to any tall girls reading)

my thumbs gently caressed his smooth skin as i wiped his damp tears away, my fingers swiping under the rim of his glasses. He seemed scared to even look at me, maybe even awkward to my touch, it made me feel a little bad for him, like nobody cared as much for him to give this attention.

I really could only name about 10 people I've ever seen hanging around Matt, and that counts his triplet brothers. I was glad he had them around, he seemed very cared and loved for by his family, but he wasn't really close to many others.

After I wiped his face dry from tears, I slightly tilted my head for us to walk back to class, which he understood as we walked side by side down the hall

PART 3 OUT NOW

I was previously planning for part 3's events to be added to this part but I wanted to edge u guys a lil 😋 but thank u for any and all of the support, I rlly appreciate it, love u guys sm 🤍

@mattsfavbitchhh @jamiesturniolo @jesscheesestring

[gilbertscurls]

Classroom Competition ➵ Matt Sturniolo

synopsis: two rival English teachers, you and Matt, challenge each other to an end-of-year competition to see whose class will come out on top.

You stood at the front of your classroom, flipping through the stack of essays your students had turned in earlier that week. The air was thick with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the quiet hum of focused minds. Your students were finishing a timed writing exercise, and you could already tell from the intensity in their eyes that they were giving it their all.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Your class was doing great this semester. They were engaged, improving their writing skills daily, and, most importantly, they were enjoying the material. You had spent weeks perfecting your lesson plans, making sure they were creative and challenging. But in the back of your mind, there was always one nagging thought.

Matthew.

Your fellow English teacher—and academic rival.

Victoria had been teaching at Somerville High for two years now, and ever since you and Matt had both started in the same semester, a silent, unspoken competition had brewed between you. You both taught sophomore English, and though you never directly confronted each other about it, there was a clear rivalry between you to see who could get the highest test scores, who could make reading Shakespeare fun, and who could inspire their students the most.

It wasn’t that Matt was a bad teacher. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was too good. Charismatic, engaging, and with an ability to make even the most mundane literature seem exciting, he was loved by students and teachers alike. His reputation for getting the highest standardized test scores among his classes wasn’t lost on you either.

But you weren’t about to let him overshadow you.

The bell rang, and your students handed in their essays on the way out. You were just gathering your things when the door to your classroom swung open. Speak of the devil.

“Y/N,” Matt greeted you with a casual smirk, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You busy?”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes. “What do you want, Matt?”

“I just thought I’d swing by and see how your class is doing,” he said, his voice smooth. “You know, make sure everything’s running smoothly on this side of the English department.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up the stack of essays. “My class is doing just fine, thank you.”

“Of course they are,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. He glanced around, taking in your meticulously organized classroom. “I’m sure you’re drilling those essays into them like always.”

You bristled at the jab but kept your tone light. “Maybe, but at least my students know how to structure an argument properly. I’ve heard yours are still struggling with thesis statements.”

Matt chuckled, clearly not offended. “Oh, they’ve got it down. But I prefer to focus on more… Creative approaches to writing. You know, things that get students to think outside the box.”

“Right,” you said, leaning back against your desk. “And that’s why your students are always scrambling the day before exams, right?”

He shot you a look, but his smile never wavered. “Hey, it works for them.”

You had this same back-and-forth at least once a week. It wasn’t mean-spirited, but there was definitely an underlying tension in your conversations. And today, you were determined to win this round.

“Speaking of exams,” you said casually, “did you see the test scores from last week’s assessment?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “I did. Pretty solid across the board. How about yours?”

You grinned. “Best in the department.”

For the first time, Matt’s smirk faltered just slightly, and it was all the satisfaction you needed.

“Congrats,” he said, a little less cocky now. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game.”

“Guess so,” you said sweetly.

He crossed his arms, clearly not ready to back down entirely. “Well, if we’re being competitive, how about we up the stakes?”

You eyed him warily. “What kind of stakes?”

“An end-of-year competition,” he suggested, leaning against one of the student desks. “Your class versus mine. Whoever gets the highest overall grade average wins.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly does the winner get?”

Matt thought for a moment, then his grin returned. “Bragging rights. For the whole summer. And…” he paused for dramatic effect, “the loser has to buy the winner coffee every morning for a week.”

You crossed your arms, biting your lip as you considered the offer. It was a ridiculous bet, but there was something thrilling about it. And if you were being honest with yourself, you liked the competition with Matt. It kept you on your toes, made you push yourself harder. Plus, the thought of beating him, once and for all, was too tempting to resist.

“Deal,” you said, stepping forward and offering your hand.

Matt’s smile widened as he took it. “Deal.”

The rest of the semester flew by, and true to your word, both you and Matt ramped up your efforts to make your classes the best they could be. You spent countless hours refining your lesson plans, coming up with creative writing prompts, and working one-on-one with students who needed extra help. You weren’t just teaching to win the bet—you genuinely cared about your students’ success—but knowing that you had a competition with Matt made you push even harder.

On the other side of the hallway, Matt was doing the same. He organized debate competitions, hosted creative writing workshops, and even incorporated poetry slams into his curriculum. His students adored him, and he had a way of making literature come alive in a way that was different from your more structured approach.

By the time the end of the year rolled around, both teachers were anxiously awaiting the results. Final grades were submitted, and the last week of classes was a blur of goodbyes and final projects.

You were standing in the teacher’s lounge, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for the principal to post the final grade averages. Matt stood beside you, leaning casually against the wall, looking far too relaxed for your liking.

“Nervous?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Not at all,” you lied, crossing your arms. “Just ready to win.”

Matt chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

The principal finally walked in, holding the final grade reports. She posted the averages for each class on the board, and you felt your heart race as you scanned the numbers. Your class had done incredibly well, but so had Matt’s.

It was close. Really close.

In the end, Matt’s class edged yours out by a mere half a percentage point.

You let out a frustrated sigh, crossing your arms as Matt grinned triumphantly beside you.

“Looks like I’ll be expecting that coffee next week,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Matt chuckled, stepping closer, his voice softening just a little. “You know, this whole rivalry thing—it’s fun.”

You glanced up at him, your heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, you stood there, the usual tension between you shifting into something else—something that felt less like competition and more like connection.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt grinned. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder if this competition of yours was just beginning—only now, the stakes felt a little higher.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[wcsternnights]

 ✦ ࣪ ˖ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐬

𝐨𝐫

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠

arabella perez stood beside her boyfriend and his two brothers as larray introduced the video. he informed the viewers that he would be helping the triplets and arabella cook fried chicken.

"now, arabella, i know you already have seasoning to you - you sexy latina." larray joked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "but, for the sake of this video... embrace the uncultured-ness that is your boyfriend."

matt awkwardly held his thumbs up and grinned at the camera, before snatching his girlfriend back from larray and placing both hands on her shoulders, resting his chin on her head. the pair listened as larray continued to talk, throwing in a joke every now and then.

"hold on, should i move my cake?" arabella asked, looking at her beautiful chocolate star cake.

it was made for her sisters sixteenth birthday, and she would be giving it to her the next week. it was perfectly designed, with chocolate frosting and gold sprinkles, with the words 'happy 16th pops!' on top. the cake was currently on the furthest corner away on the counter, as no one had actually used the kitchen in a while.

"nah, it'll be fine." nick shook his head, walking over to it and checking it out. "it looks amazing though."

"thanks, i spent all night on wednesday making it for poppy." arabella smiled, looking at the camera as she spoke about the cake. "we can't show you guys cuz this vid's gonna come out before her birthday, and poppy usually watches these videos."

"shame." chris deadpanned, no amusement in his voice whatsoever.

"LET'S GET STARTED." larray shouted, clapping his hands. "right, we're having a deaf, a mute, a blind, a helen keller a whole package deal."

"hold on, someone's gonna be blind, deaf and mute?!" nick exclaimed, looking at his friend in utter shock.

"yeah... there's five of us, sis, what do you want me to do?" larray snapped back, bobbling his head as he spoke.

"i think nick should be mute and blind cuz he doesn't shut the fuck up." arabella snorted, resting her hands on the counter.

"no, i'm being mute and blind." larray butted in. "bella, boo-- betty boop-"

"huh?" matt raised his eyebrows, looking at larray with confusion. "where did that come from..."

"i dont know, she reminds me of that bitch." larray shrugged, pulling out a bandana and waving it in arabella's face. "you're blind babe."

"oh, fuck me." she groaned, "wait, like right now? or are we swapping over?"

"you can be blind in a bit, how about you be all three for now." larray offered, his evil giggle coming out as he watched arabella stare at the camera with a blank look.

"sure, whatever, fuck it." arabella shrugged, taking the bandana and tape that he was holding.

"that's my girl!" matt clapped excitedly as he took the things off of her and proceeded to tie the bandana at the back of her head, before taking the tape off the edge of the counter and pressing it over her lips and smoothing it down.

"is it good?" her voice was a hum, but her words were obvious. matt proceeded to hold a thumbs up, forgetting the fact she was blindfolded. "matt, is it good?"

so far, the video was going well. they had somehow managed to have chris and arabella successfully season chicken while matt helped them out and nick and larray danced around the kitchen, singing 'the sweet escape' by gwen stefani.

it was now turn to swap over, and everyone removed the items making them unable to perform certain actions. arabella and matt winced and wriggled in pain as they peeled the tape off of their mouths.

"babe, you got a makeup line." larray mocked, pointing at her mouth and cackling evilly. some of the tape had removed her face makeup, but, luckily, on camera it wasn't that obvious.

"you still look beautiful." matt mumbled as he stood in front of her, trying to blend the line away with the pad of his thumb.

"aww!" chris, nick and larray screamed, before chris fake gagged and burped in the space between them, making them step apart.

"you're fucking disgusting." matt groaned, punching his arm.

"can i be blind again? it was fun as shit." arabella grinned, snatching her blindfold back and attempting to tie it, when matt came to help.

"okay, bella's blind, matt's deaf, chris is blind and deaf, larri is mute and i'm mute and blind." nick announced, moving his hands dramatically as he spoke.

"but now, there's nowhere to hide-!" arabella started to sing randomly, even though she wasn't even listening to music. "since you've pushed my love aside!"

chris, who was yet to put his headphones on, found arabella and wrapped an arm around her neck from behind, dragging her back and shutting her up. larray jumped in shock, looking between the assault and the camera, whereas matt pushed chris aggressively, pointing a finger in his chest and shouting. "don't fucking do that!"

chris pushed him back before pointing at arabella and placing a finger on his lips. "tell her to shut up! she's making my senses inbalanced!"

"you're senses have been inbalanced." arabella spat back, kicking the back of his knee as revenge.

matt placed himself in front of her as he saw chris go to hit her. he turned around to face her and shouted, not realising his volume: "bels, you have to be quiet!"

"okay! i got it! stop yelling in my damn face!" arabella shouted back.

as the video continued, it was still going smoothly, until chris and matt began to fight each other again, and nick and larray had began to dance around again, mentally singing songs as both of them were mute. that left arabella all alone to complete the chicken, and she was beginning to get overwhelmed. she couldn't see, matt and chris were screaming at each other, and no one was helping her at all. she took a deep breath in and shook her hands, trying to dry them of the damp sweat that was building up, she scrunched her eyes underneath the blindfold, trying to remove the tears that were also building up.

she cleared her throat and continued to make the chicken to the best of her ability. before matt unintentionally screamed at her. "no! bella, stop! wrong thing!"

"it's not my fucking fault, no ones helping me!" she shouted, her voice cracking and wavering.

"what?!" matt shouted back, having not heard her.

larray, who was the only one (besides nick) who could hear her distress, waved his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell matt to stop yelling, but matt thought that meant carry on.

"bella stop!"

"stop what?!" she began tearing up, her bottom lip quivering.

larray quickly hit him and pointed at him, telling him to stop. arabella wiped her hands on her jeans as she felt herself getting really hot.

then, chris accidentally walked into matt from behind, making him shove him aggressively into the counter. a loud clatter and the sound of glass breaking came as everyone stopped their movements.

"what? what broke?" arabella asked, looking around for someone to help her.

sudden arms wrapped around her shoulders, one pressing into the back of her head. she reached her hand up to try and feel who it was. "who is it?" her hands came into contact with the spikey facial hair she loved. "oh, it's matt. what happened?"

matts fingers moved to untie the her bandana and she squinted as they adjusted to the sudden light. everyone stood in silence, jaws slack and in shock horror. nick had a hand over his mouth as chris' were interlocked around the back of his neck.

"what?" arabella muttered, walking around the back of the counter and seeing what everyone was so shocked about.

poppy's 16th birthday cake was splattered all over the floor, face down, and the plate was smashed. the kitchen as a whole was a complete mess, but this was the cherry on top to the growing panic attack arabella could feel approaching.

however, she shrugged it off with a sniffle and returned to her work station, cracking an egg and putting it in a foil tin.

"bella, i'm so sorry." chris muttered, too scared to look at her.

she shrugged, and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, ignoring the stares of everyone. matts hands snaked around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder, pressing light kisses to her neck.

"im sorry, baby. i know how hard you worked." he mumbled. "im so sorry."

"no, it's fine, i'll just remake it, it's whatever." arabella passed over the way her voice cracked multiple times and continued making the chicken.

"bella i stopped the video." larray told her, letting her know she could stop.

she nodded her head and walked over to the sink, washing her hands before disappearing into matts bedroom. she hid in his covers, pulling them up to her chin and silently crying, trying to regulate her breathing while trying to be quiet. it was a mission and a half.

but matt walked in a few minutes later, quickly shut the door behind him and sat next to her in bed, pulling her into his lap. "it's okay. it's okay, shh. shh."

his hushes and coos only made her more emotional, as she soaked his shirt with her tears.

"oh bels, i'm so sorry. we'll remake it. we'll all help." matt whispered in her ear, dragging his fingers through it.

"no." she coughed/ sobbed out, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "no, it's not just that but i was doing everything myself and no one was helping me everyone was just shouting at each other."

matt placed a hand on her chest and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "you gotta breathe, baby. follow my own breathing, look at how i do it."

"did you know, you're bandana is the same colour as your bead bracelet that madi bought you?" arabella stared at his face as he helped her, looking at his encouraging eyes and warm smile. "there you go, you're doing so good. just like that, bels."

after a while, her pants had ceased and her panic attack was over, making her feel entirely drained and tired.

"i'm so sorry, arabella. we can all remake the cake, and you can decorate it, or you can do it all yourself, whatever you want." matt told her, holding her tightly. "and we're gonna redo this video another day because there's no way larri is posting this one, it was a mess."

"i feel so ridiculous." she muttered, hiding in his chest. "crying over a fucking cake."

"you're not ridiculous, bella." matt replied, kissing the top of her head lovingly.

a/n

dude this one is so long omfg im sorry about that yall but i hope you liked it. i had this idea for a few days now and decided to write it up because i love fanfics where the s/o is in a yt vid

[calciumcryptid]

Fuck it, We Are Internet Famous AU. Let's go-

After his grandfather passed, Q entered a major depressive episode. He was close with his grandfather, a famous artist, who taught him everything he knew. In a way, he was raised more by his grandfather than his parents (although they deeply loved him). Q retains his desire to paint, to make art, but now it is bittersweet and his grandfather's shadow hangs over every studio session.

He starts streaming to the core five group chat to try and get into the groove. Tan, perpetual recorder, recorded the streams. One night, while bored, Tan edited one with inside jokes and references the group found funny. After a collective viewing experience, Chain suggested uploading the video to YouTube and its how Q's YouTube channel (MaestroQ) was born.

Q has two channels. One is for edited down and planned content, while the other contains his live streams. He gains a bit of a reputation as a semi-anti Bob Ross due to his more sarcastic and snarky remarks despite remaining calm throughout. The live streams gain popularity because people use them to fall asleep, and the shorter videos are edited down down to a process-video and a condensed highlight reel. Art has become fun for Q again.

Meanwhile, Fang and Phum have become popular because they are rich and attractive young men who do some modeling on the side. It doesn't help Phum (accidentally) befriended royalty (Damn Beer) and a popular streamer known for gaming (Mick), which increased the brothers fame.

Matt is another popular streamer known for gaming and art streams, and Toey is his roommate who is known through association. The two have been roommates for years, and Toey crashes Matt's streams constantly (which lead to an iconic series where Matt makes Toey play horror games, except Toey is completely unaffected). Toey finds Q's painting streams relaxing and falls asleep to them.

Now where do the ships fit into this?

Simple: TanFang.

In this universe, TanFang met when they were adults, post-graduation. While I don't have the exact details, their first meeting comes about because Tan approaches Fang due to Fang being vaguely familiar to him. Naturally, Tan assumes Fang went to high school wit him and thought he should say hi. Fang didn't, and is displeased about being interrupted for the fifth time that week. Naturally, this leads to some punches being thrown.

Of course, they get passive aggressive about it.

[ Pun here! Q is sorry about the delay, but we had to take Tan to the doctor. He got punched. Don't worry! He is fine! While he is out of commission, I thought I'd show him up with my editing skills! :D ]

Phum makes a post about taking his older brother to the doctor, and Fang follows up about making a smooth recovery.

Tan and Fang end up having their followup checkups on the same day, where they figure out the misunderstanding. Fang offers to treat Tan to lunch since he was the aggressor, and Tan agrees. Soon they are texting everyday, and a month later they are dating.

They soft launch their relationship and everyone in Fang's comments are commenting about it being the "Maestro Q Editor Guy".

It was a moment in social media.

Out of protectiveness and curiosity, Phum looks up the channel Tan edits for. He watches a couple of videos, but doesn't get that far into the catalogue before he goes to play football with Tan. If Phum got a little farther in the catalogue, he might have seen Peem's little side series where he goes to scenic water locations and does landscape paintings alongside Q.

Instead, Phum finds out about Peem the canon way where he accidentally destroys a painting Q and Peem finished for a video (or maybe a video card). Q and Tan watch in awe as Peem loses it on Phum, kicking him in the nuts, then running off.

Cue more passive aggressive vague posting.

(I think it would be funny if Phum and Q had Internet beef but their fans were unable to figure out why. Randomly one day this accidental influencer and the painter started to quote tweet each other.)

At this point, Toey is friends with Fang and Phum (through MickMatt) and gasps when he realizes Phum is why the latest video has been delayed and bullies his pseudo-older brother into apologizing ("I had a restless night of sleep. Why would you do that to me? *lethal puppy eyes*"). Phum, begrudgingly, does through Tan. Peem mocks him a little ("Now was that so hard?") and says Phum will be forgiven if he helps Peem with a video idea.

Phum agrees ("Whatever you say gorgeous.") and Peem uses Phum as a model for a portrait. Afterwards, Phum asks Peem on a date ("Since I am forgiven, can I take you on a date? *lethal puppy eyes*). Peem agrees because he thought Phum wasn't serious only to be thoroughly swept off his feet. Phum can't stop taking pictures of Peem, and he hard launches Peem as his boyfriend. Peem is pretty, and people need to know Phum scored.

It was also a moment in social media.

Afterwards, Peem becomes fond of Toey, and it (finally) clicks for Toey that he can meet Q through Peem and Tan. Tan is ecstatic for their friend groups to officially meet, unaware of Toey's mission. At the meet-up, Toey harnesses the power of the sun directly at Q. Q, naturally, becomes romantically constipated about this.

Toey suggest Matt should do an art stream with Q, and Matt agrees. The live stream goes well, and Q leaves. Toey notices Q left his pencil box behind, and rushes to give it back. After staring at his pencil box for a bit, Q admits he knows Toey has feelings for him but he has never returned anyones romantic desire before (oh no, where did these demiromantic feelings come from?) and he doesn't know what to do. The two promise to take it slow together, and start dating.

Chain and Pun were the first ones who got together in this timeline, because the viewers picked up on the undertones between and it opened Pun's eyes to his feelings being returned.

Mick and Matt were the second couple to get together in this timeline, as they were online gaming rivals who were teamed-up at a convention's live gaming event. After they won, they started dating. Toey has never third-wheeled harder.

[freelancearsonist]

Sensation

Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Rated MA for 2k of pure porn with barely any plot, consensual blindfolding, dom/sub dynamics (Matt punishing reader), oral sex, piv sex, all the sex

1,975 Words

A/N: as always thank you to my love @shakespeareanwannabe for being my best beta reader (and for the prompt ofc) 🖤 i wrote this in one sitting at like 10PM so sorry if it sucks LMAO

“This is a punishment,” Matt reminds you, his breath heavy enough against your ear to send a shiver down your spine. He knows it, of course–if your eyes weren’t firmly covered with his tie, you’d be able to see the smirk that slowly spreads across his full lips.

In your defense, you’re not sure how exactly he expected you to behave tonight. He had you get all dolled up so he could take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner, and of course he was the most edible thing in the entire establishment. It’s his own fault for looking so damned fine, really. If he hadn’t worn that sleek, form-fitting suit with that blood-red tie (the exact one now being used as your punishment blindfold), you wouldn’t have had to misbehave. And really, kissing him deeply in front of the whole restaurant wasn’t that bad. Even if you did grab his ass a little a lot. How could you possibly be expected to keep your hands to yourself?

Not that you’re really complaining about this punishment. Your eyes may have been the thing to get you into trouble in the first place, but every sensation is heightened so much further without their use

For instance, the way his hands trace down your thighs. Normally it’s nothing more than a touch to you, a mark of the journey on his way to where you really want him. Tonight, it’s more than that. It makes your body jolt ever so slightly when his hands first make contact, and then you notice the intention of his feather-light pressure as they move. It’s meant to drive you crazy, and it works perfectly. Normally, it would take more effort to get you squirming. Yet this simple touch rips a completely involuntary whine from your throat. You hear him chuckle, and you know he’s eating this up. Part of you wants to rebel, to not give him the satisfaction of witnessing you enjoy your punishment. But the other–larger–part of you wants nothing more than for his touch to continue.

You don’t have to ask–he’s gracious in that aspect. This time his hands work their way up, gliding over the smooth expanse of your stomach to his target. He revels in the gasp you emit when his fingertips dance under the curves of your breasts, almost but not quite touching in a way that makes you want to growl and beg for more.

But begging isn’t what’s on his mind tonight. He’ll give you anything you want without making you ask–Matt’s goal is stimulation.

And that’s why he wastes no time cupping your breasts in his hands, running the roughly calloused pads of his thumbs over your taut nipples. It feels divine; the perfect mix of friction and pressure. 

You’ve known from your first romp in the sheets together that your boyfriend is talented, especially when it comes to bedroom activities. He’s never failed to make you feel euphoria beyond your wildest dreams. But you’ve never appreciated his skilled hands as much as you do in this moment.

And then his mouth takes over for the hand that slides up to idly hold your neck–not applying pressure, just resting there as a subtle reminder of his power over you–and you swear you’re dying. You must be halfway out of your body and on the way to heaven because nothing should be able to feel this good. Especially not something as simple as his ever-so-soft and wet tongue gliding smoothly in a tight circle before laving directly over your nipple.

You jolt from the sensation and his hand is quick to shoot down to your hip, a steadying pressure to keep you in place as he continues the assault with his mouth.

It’s a lot, the combination of his hands and his mouth on your delicate skin. Especially with your senses tuned and stretched tight as piano wire. But it’s not too much, and he knows it. He knows he can keep pushing, and he wants to. He’s curious exactly what your breaking point will be.

Matt is rarely impatient, but he is now. The feeling of your trembling muscles, the scent of your neglected arousal, the sound of your panted breaths–it all drives him wild with desire. He’s aching and desperate for you in a way that he’s tried to train himself never to be. Patience is a virtue, after all; but there’s nothing virtuous about Matthew Murdock when he has you like this.

He trails his tongue down, down, down; only pausing for a moment to suck a deep velvet mark into the flesh of your stomach. It’s worth the reaction that comes from you–simultaneously trying to squirm away yet push closer to him. He loves you like this, so carnally unraveled. There’s not a thought in your head–a head that’s normally swirling with genius and creativity–which is such a luxurious rarity. He’s proud of himself, really, for his ability to unwind you so easily. 

He takes a moment for himself, soaking in your scent and sounds as he settles himself between your spread thighs. There are few places he loves to be more than right here, with your legs wrapped around his head and his tongue buried in you.

There are few places you love for him to be more, too. Especially like this, with every nerve in your body on high alert. The anticipation is deadly–without your sight, you never know when his next touch is coming. It’s maddening, entrancing, arousing. You don’t even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed of how wet you are; not that he would ever expect you to be. Matt is never quite satisfied until he has you dripping enough to necessitate a sheet change once he’s done ruining you.

You’re halfway there already, and he can’t deny himself any longer. You owe him, really–he had to skip dessert after your little display at the restaurant so he could drag you home.

Maybe he has a thing for your possessive nature. He doesn’t really feel the need to put a label on it.

The first light flick of his tongue against your waiting core is hardly enough to feel. Perhaps under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel it at all. But like this, with every ounce of your being wound tight with anticipation, it feels like a hot bullet of pleasure slicing through your cunt. It makes you whine and squirm, necessitating his large hands to come to your hips so he can hold his dessert in place.

The second flick of his tongue isn’t really a flick but more of a drag. Hot and languid, savoring the sweetness of your want for him. It’s Matt who moans this time–deep in his throat, completely unconscious. He can’t help it, not when you taste this good.

He really does want to drag this out. He wants to take his time making a meal of you, savor every second of your taste on his tongue. But he’s desperate, and teasing is out the door when he gets like this. There’s no time for you to prepare before he’s delving in, drinking from you like you’re his fountain of youth. 

It’s harsh, the sudden overload of sensation. It makes you writhe under his strong grip and gasp for breath as you try not to shatter into a billion pieces. It makes your thighs clamp around his head, holding him into place as a plea for him to not stop, to never stop. It makes your stomach churn, muscles aching from how tightly your internal coil is wound.

It makes you tumble over the edge with barely a second’s notice.

A fresh wave of wetness meets his greedy tongue as he basks in the sound of your moans and sobs, and suddenly he’s starting to wonder if this punishment isn’t for him. It must be, because the deep ache in his balls and the way his pants have tightened so unbearably can’t be anything but a punishment.

He’s eager to remedy this situation as his soft lips trace gentle kisses into the meat of your thighs, giving you a short reprieve from the onslaught of stimulation. Emphasis on short–all the while he’s unbuckling his belt and hastily shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs, too desperate to take the time to bare himself for you.

“Ready?” He asks, taking the time and attention to set a gentle kiss on your chin as he positions himself between your legs.

You nod, but it’s not enough.

“Words, baby.” That stern tone of his could make you do literally anything.

“Yes,” you say, and he’s balls deep before you’ve even finished the word.

It’s nothing short of overwhelming. The sheer size of him, which is already daunting on a regular day, is nearly unbearable. He’s stretching seemingly every inch of you, bullying your body into accommodating his girth. You feel his tip kiss your cervix, and it makes tears of pleasure prickle at the corners of your eyes.

In his favor, he does give you a moment to recover from the sudden shock of his intrusion. And then he rolls his hips–not even pulling out, but somehow managing to get even deeper. You feel him so completely it’s almost as if he’s in your god damned throat. And he relishes it; the salt of your tears, the hitch of your breath, the tremble of your chest.

He draws out almost completely, then bullies his way back in. Your cunt squeezes so tight around him that he actually swears–your good, sweet, church-going Matt curses the heavens for making you so tight and wet and willing. Because even as he sets his harsh pace, slamming into you with something akin to ferocity, you don’t complain. You take every inch of him with gratitude, nails scratching down his back because your blissed-out mind needs some form of purchase.

The blindfold really isn’t doing anything for you at this point; your eyes are squeezed so tightly shut that you hardly even register it’s there anymore. Your mind can’t focus on a single sensation, but it processes everything–the slick glide of his cock pounding into you, the slap of his thighs against yours, his mouth trailing panted kisses over your neck. There’s so much sensation that it overwhelms you, turns you numb as you clench even tighter around him.

He almost asks if it’s too much, although the thought of stopping now makes his gut ache. But there’s no need–as soon as his thumb sweeps lightly over your clit, you’re shattering. The pleasure of it makes you shake and cough, like your engine’s on its last leg and you’re about to break down on the side of the road. Your cunt weeps with the stimulation, soaking down your thighs and his until there’s no hope of redeeming these sheets. 

Matt doesn’t let up until your contracting muscles go limp, just in time for him to spill deep inside of you with a final harsh thrust of his hips. It’s warm and hot and the perfect sensation to end on, even as he slowly eases his length out of you so he can flop down next to you.

There’s nothing but the sound of heavy panting for a moment or two, and then Matt’s fingers find your face so he can undo the tie wrapped over your eyes. Then his lips are on you again; this time pressing gentle kisses over your sore eyelids.

“You okay?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You’re not quite sure how to express just how okay you are. You decide on, “The only punishing part of that will be if we never do that again.”

He laughs as he pulls you to cuddle against his chest, because he’s thinking the same exact thing.

THE END

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[thefallennightmare]

Matty brain rot has been real so please enjoy this little smutty blurb.

Best Friend!Matt x Reader

NSFW BELOW THE CUT. 18+

The pounding nosies of the drums brought a sense of calm throughout you as you internally danced to the song Matt had been playing. While Kooter had already finished setting up Folio’s drums, Matt wanted to run through a song just to make sure it sounded fine.

Everyone knew it was mostly because Matt secretly missed drumming.

Adjusting the strap of the camera on your shoulder, you smoothed out your sundress as you let the hot Arizona heat blast against your bare shoulders and watched your best friend slam the sticks against the drums.

Wonder what that would feel like.

Shaking those thoughts about your best friend out of your head, knowing he didn’t feel the same, you watched with a smile on your face as you picked up on the familiar beats of your favorite Bloodline song.

Same Stories.

But what really made you break out in a smile is when you saw Matt trying so hard to keep his long locks of hair out of his face, ultimately falling. Since your camera bag was on the stage next to you, you rummaged through it to pull out a hair brush and a hair tie.

You were always prepared.

Your shoes smacked against the stage as you walked up the mini stage towards the drums where Matt let out a frustrated groan, dropping the sticks so he could run a ran through his hair yet again.

“I can’t believe I forgot my hat,” he muttered.

“You could just cut your hair,” you teasingly shrugged which earned you an ice cold flare from him.

You held up both hands, still holding the hair tie and brush. “It was a joke, Matthew. No need to go feral on me.”

Please do.

His eyes softened as they grazed over every inch of my body and suddenly I wasn’t warm from the sun any longer.

“What’s that?” He pointed a drum stick towards my hands.

“Don’t mind me, I’m going to fix your hair for you. It’s way to hot to leave it down, even with a hat,” you replied while maneuvering yourself behind him.

Matt had been wearing a cut off shirt, his muscles glistening with sweat and you bit your lip at the sight of him. You’d had feelings for him for a long as you could remember but always kept it to yourself after over hearing a conversation of him and Noah where Matt admitted six words that made your heart sink.

“I don’t do relationships. Never will.”

And it was true. You’d been around Matt and the Bad Omens crew for the last two years and never seen Matt in one single relationship. Not even a fling.

But the two of you were incredibly close, the best of friends and he proved it more than once he cared and loved you. Just not in that way. So you swallowed the way you felt in order to keep your best friend.

“You don’t have to always take care of me, you know?” Matt’s question pulled you out of your thoughts and you merely hummed, running the brush through his long golden locks.

“If I don’t then who will?” You retorted back with a wink as you peered your head around to face him.

His dark eyes traced your tongue as it darted out to wet your lips. Then followed a single bead of sweat as it trailed down between the valley of your breasts that were peaking out over the top of your dress.

Behind him once again, you finished brushing his hair and let the comb fall to the floor as you gathered all of it in a low bun.

“Please don’t braid it,” he pleaded while kicking his feet slowly on the pedals of the drums.

You snorted after finishing tying all of his hair out of his face and walked to the side of him. “I think you would look really cute in braids, Matthew.”

Something flashed in his eyes as his hands shot out to grab your hips, pulling you into his lap as he still sat on the stool. Your giggles echoed into the blue sky as his fingers gently tickled your sides.

“You think so huh, baby? I’d look cute?” He teased with a low voice.

You sucked in a breath at not only hearing his pet name for you but also what you felt brush against your semi wet core.

Matt’s cock was hard underneath his sweat shorts making you bit your lip as he raised his hips up against you when he noticed how much it turned you on.

“Oh, what this? Did you forget how to speak?” Matt grazed his lips gently over your collar bone.

This wasn’t anything new, you two teasing each other like this. But what was new was how hard you felt his cock pushing against your pussy. The thin material of your panties doing nothing to stop you from staining his grey shorts with your arousal.

“I-I,” you panted, him practically forcing you to jump him while on the drum set.

“You’re so cock drunk and I haven’t even slipped it inside of you, baby girl.” Matt bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out.

Thankfully everyone was in the back hang out area of the outdoor venue and couldn’t see you nearly falling apart.

His fingers lifted up the end of your dress so your ass was exposed to the sun, him kneeding the sensitive flesh.

“I’ve been dreaming of fucking you against a drum set,” Matt admitted while leaving a deep red mark against your neck.

Your pussy was on fire now so close to falling over that edge of bliss and you dug your nails into the exposed flesh of his arms, Matt still forcing your hips back and forth against him.

“What-what happened to you not doing relationships?” You breathed your question, so close to your release.

He wrapped your pony tail around his hand to yank your head back, exposing more of your neck to him.

“That’s for everyone else. For you, baby. I’m all yours.”

Your heart leaped into your throat at his admission and you let out a silent scream of agreement as your body exploded with pure euphoria.

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 1/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This is technically a combination of two ideas--one that I've had for a bit written in my idea notebook, and another I got about a week ago (mildly induced by me watching Gossip Girl for the first time despite knowing all of the major plot points). I don't usually do angst, but boy is it here in this series. Enjoy, and I apologize in advance if I make anyone sad.

Summary: You and Matt Murdock come from different worlds: Matt, the son of a prize boxer from Hell’s Kitchen, you the daughter of a clothing designer and doctor on Park Ave. Meeting in law school was just chance, just was much as you falling for your friend. But fate had different paths for the two of you that pulled you apart, and you felt pain with each tear. Now, just over ten years later, you two meet again by chance, and everything and nothing has changed.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, lingering love and fondness, canon-typical arguments, language, mentions of death (reader is a widow)

Other Characters: Elektra Natchios

Word Count: 1,807

To say that Matt was annoyed with Elektra was an understatement. Pulling him away from a date was one thing, but pulling him away from a date to go to a ritzy gala? He was pissed. Maybe he wouldn’t mind it if he liked that kind of stuff, but he absolutely hates large crowds, people pretending to be things they’re not to look better than others. It’s just a place for the upper crust to brag. One of these things was the reason that he met Elektra in the first place; while their relationship had its moments in college, that is a moment he repeatedly visits in his mind with regret. There was absolutely no reason for Foggy and him to be there at that event—they were just two stupid college kids crashing a party, and it changed the course of his life. 

Even though Elektra made sure to get him a soft tux, it still felt like it was suffocating him. It was too much, and it was only adding to his discomfort and annoyance. He knows there’s a mission to focus on, but he can’t keep his mind on track. Matt half-listens to the plan Elektra is talking at him about as they stand with champagne flutes in hand, and just as she slips away into the crowd, he hones in on something that has to be a mistake. He puts down his untouched drink on a tray, slowly tapping over toward what has to be an anger-endured hallucination. But as he gets closer had he picks up a familiar scent, he knows he’s not imagining anything. Oh God, he’d never forget that smell. How could he the it’s attached to every memory he has of you?

“Angel,” he breathes. 

He can tell that it catches you off guard by how your posture changes, how your heart skips, and how your breathing increases. You turn slowly and Matt can sense how your eyes widen softly in surprise and something more. Matt listens to your heart flutter like a hummingbird’s as you try to keep calm and dull your buzzing senses.

“Matty,” you breathes, color rushing to your cheeks. His name sounds like honey dripping from your lips. He’s missed that sound. He’s missed you. So, so much. You clear your throat to regain your composure. “What a surprise. It’s lovely to see you here.”

“(Y/N/N),” he murmurs. Matt is simply shocked by meeting you here after ten years—he doesn’t believe his senses that it’s actually you. But it is. 

“Please,” you whisper, mildly embarrassed and suddenly very conscious of yourself as you dip your head and smooth your gown. “No one has called me that in years. (Y/N) is fine.” You sound as if you’re going to cry from nerves—definitely not how you had been just a minute earlier speaking with someone in the crowd. It might slip past someone else, but not Matt. He knows you, no matter how long you’ve been apart.

Matt’s face shifts from surprise to something he can tell you can’t quite put your finger on. “You . . . How have you been? I mean, I’d assume well judging by the scale of tonight and your role in it all.”

“‘Well’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe it.”

His brows furrow. “C’mon, (Y/N/N). Everyone that’s here is because of you and the work you’ve done. This . . . This is more than you could’ve ever dreamed of when we were at Columbia. You’re doing more than Foggy and I could hope to achieve in our entire career.”

“‘Well’ isn’t happy.”

“You’re not happy?”

You give him a sad smile. “I fit into the mold of the perfect Upper East Side darling: went to private schools, society debut, got my degree, worked to established a successful career, got married. Unlike my fellow wives of the Upper East Side, though, my marriage ended in death instead of divorce. Besides, this isn’t anywhere near the work I hoped I’d be doing. ‘Well’ is just a mask I have the burden of putting on everyday.”

Matt’s eyebrows pull down, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not happy,” he breathes softly, pain and sadness painted all over his face.

“I’m not,” you admit, holding back tears to save face. “I haven’t been in years. We talked about it at Columbia—this life wasn’t what I wanted. I was naive to think I could have anything different. But at some point . . . My happiness stopped mattering. It wasn’t important. I just needed to become the woman I was expected to be, and I did.”

“Angel.” He moistens his lips. “Your happiness does matter. When you’re happy . . . (Y/N/N), it lights up the people around you. It’s infectious, it’s like sunshine, it’s . . . It’s why I fell in love with you in law school.”

That sentence is a knife to the heart, and the slight shift in your stance tells Matt that he knows what he just did was not the best move.

“It’s a shame it wasn’t enough to keep us together, then.”

Your words kill him, but no matter how they hurt, he knows they’re true. “(Y/N/N)—.”

“Do you know when I first fell in love with you, Matt?” He just looks at you as he holds on to his cane. Nervous. Fragile, even. “Two weeks in, fall semester, first year of Columbia. We were studying in the library, and it was late. You could tell I was losing steam and giving up, and you took my mind off things and cheered me up by balancing a ruler on that huge, beautiful nose of yours like a goddamn otter. The way you smiled when I laughed . . . That man who had a passion for the law, wanted to help those that needed it most, fiercely loyal, he’s who I fell in love with. He’s who I thought would stand beside me through anything. He just never felt the same, no matter much I wished he did.” That salt Matt tastes in the air tells him that you desperately want to cry right there in the middle of the party no matter who is around, but you catch the eye of someone else in the room—a silent savior in the conversation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go mingle with guests. It was lovely to see you tonight, Matthew.”

“(Y/N/N), wait, please—.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Matt’s frozen as he listens to you walk away, interacting with the people at the party as if your conversation never happened. He feels a hand rest on his shoulder before it slowly runs down his arm and hooks in the crook of his elbow. 

“We need to go,” Elektra whispers. “Now.”

Gently tugging him along, Matt feels like he’s having an out of body experience. He doesn’t want to leave, not with you here, not when every fiber in his being is telling him to stay and catch up, talk, try and fix what was lost—what he broke—during your last year at Columbia. Unfortunately, his shock and awe at seeing you again is perfect for Elektra to use to drag him out of the building and into the car waiting for them, giving the driver a new address. 

“Well, I was only able to recover part of the files, thanks to someone getting distracted. But, I read some notes on a desk calendar, and the portion of the files that we really need are—.”

“Did you know this was (Y/N)’s company’s party? Did—.” His blood runs cold at the thought that crosses his mind. “Does she know what she’s involved in?”

“She’s not involved at all. One of the charities that her company supports is involved—someone higher than her has their signature all over the paperwork. She is in the dark.”

“Then we need to protect her. We—.”

“The best way to protect her is to take down the Hand. She’s fine, Matthew.”

“No, she’s not. (Y/N/N) . . . Tonight, she was like a ghost of the woman I knew in law school,” Matt tells Elektra. 

“She’s fine.”

“She’s not.”

“She made choices and is living with them. She’s fine.”

He feels shell shocked. Everything is telling him that that couldn’t have been you, even though all signs point to yes. “Those weren’t her choices. I could’ve been there for her—I should’ve been there for her to tell her that what she wanted was important and mattered more than what her parents thought. I . . .” He hangs his head in shame. “I let myself get distracted by something that didn’t matter.”

“Matthew—.”

“Her life could’ve been so different if I stayed with her. My life could’ve been different.”

“It would have been a life you hate. When you have someone like that . . . it doesn’t matter what you do. Their status will take precedence. Any life different than that that tries to mesh with it . . . It would go up in flames, no matter how hard one tries.”

“I could’ve made her happy, Elektra. I could have at least made sure that she was okay all these years, something. But I abandoned her. And I never told her why.”

“It’s not like she didn’t land on her feet. Besides, it never would have worked between you two.”

There’s something different in her voice that Matt can’t quite put his finger on, but it fills him with rage.

“You don’t know her like I do—did. We would have made it work, we could have done it. Status be damned, she—.”

“Your big heart is blinding you more than you already are. You don’t get it. It’s not just her social standing. You’re too different personality wise. Do you really think she could handle what you do in your spare time? Don’t you think that would shatter her, tear you two apart?”

“She’s part of the reason I started doing this!” Matt snaps. “She . . . Having any kind of relationship doing what I do is difficult. It wouldn’t matter if she was completely in the dark or out with me every night. (Y/N) would stay. It would work with us. I know it. She wouldn’t give up on me.”

He senses Elektra’s 180 shift in her demeanor. “Fine. You can have your movie moment with her, but you finish this with me first.“ She shifts in her seat. “I’m telling you it won’t last. You say I don’t know her, but I do, Matthew. And she will leave you broken because she never will be able to accept all of you.”

“You know, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe it wouldn’t last. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I never tried to repair that bridge.”

“Your heart will always be your Kryptonite, Matthew. Mark my words.”

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