Matt Miller X Reader: Love Me

Trembling before the mercy of the Saints, Matt wonders if this is the end. For all he’s worth, he refuses to beg to be pardoned as the Saints’ leader hovers over him.
Hands on her hips, Esfir Volkmann glares cruelly into the pitiful, blue irises of the former Deckers’ leader.
“Where is he?” demands Esfir, her platinum-blonde hair cascading down her back.
“U-um, who do you mean?” chokes out Matt meekly.
Her frown turns sour as the Boss bends down to look Matt in the eye. Deep purple eyes penetrate into his skull and he finds he’s unable to look away.
“I don’t have time for this, Miller,” she growls an inch from his face.
“I don’t know, I swear!” blurts out Matt in despair.
Wearing the Saints’ purple jacket over a white undershirt, the Boss crosses her arms, obviously not satisfied with his answer.
“Do you play me for a fool, Matt?” she asks, her Russian accent seeping through.
“No, I don’t! Honestly!”
“Then where is Killbane?!” demands the Boss, eyes ablaze.
Shaking even harder than before, Matt cups his hands together tightly. There’s nothing he can say that will make the Saints’ Boss content, for he truly doesn’t know where Killbane has fled to.
“Boss, we’re not getting anything out of him, so let’s leave ‘em and go,” suggests Pierce, his skin a caramel-brown in the bright sunlight instead of the usual chocolate shade.
“No, we should kill him and hunt down Killbane! I’m sick and tired of these wannabe gang leaders f***ing with us!” argues Shaundi, her way too tight pants a shiny violet.
Straightening her back, the Boss eyes Matt like a predator sizing up her prey. Apparently, he must not be her taste, for she shakes her head.
“Throw his a** in the trash and we’ll call it done,” she declares.
“W-wait! Don’t-“ Sinking up to his chest in filth, Matt wrinkles his nose at the stench.
Glancing up, he catches a glimpse of the Saints dark faces as they toss in his broken iPad and shattered gear.
“Consider this an act of mercy on behalf of the Saints,” points out the Boss.
Suddenly, the dumpster door is shut and Matt is thrown into darkness. He listens as their foot-steps fade away before he groans.
“They’re like my high school bullies,” he complains.
It takes him a few tries to climb out of the garbage and even longer to pick the banana peels and paper shreds from his clothes. Stepping out of the alley, Matt tries to ignore the reactions of the passerby to his smell. His eye shadow has faded, his lipstick smeared, and his jacket torn.
“Yep, just like my high school bullies…” he sighs, downcast.
”What do I do now? I’ve lost my gang, my home, my tech…h***, even Killbane. How am I supposed to survive in this retched city now?” he wonders miserably.
Decisively, Matt returns to an apartment complex and rummages through his pockets for a key. Unlocking the door of Apartment B5, Matt enters the shabby room and coughs as he inhales the growing layer of dust.
“Ugh, I had hoped to never return here,” he complains in between coughing fits.
Walking over to his desk, a bright orange sticky note catches his eye. Snatching it up, he reads: ”Hello Matt. Your world has suddenly become so lonely, hasn’t it?”
Frowning, Matt ignores the lonely pang in his heart as he realizes how alone he is now; no Killbane, no Viola or Kiki, no Deckers…
“I have brought you the perfect solution. Would you like to see? Of course you do. Look in the drawer to your right and you’ll find my gift to you.”
Muttering curses, he rips up the sticky note into unreadable pieces. Someone must have broken into his apartment in the year since he’s lived there. Now they are trolling him. Well, he wouldn’t fall for such an obvious trap.
Still….he is curious…
Sighing in defeat, he slides open the drawer and reaches inside to pull out a CD labeled ‘Soulmate’. Staring at the shiny disk, he ponders what in the world is programmed onto it.
Luckily, he manages to find his spare laptop inside a desk drawer. Wiping it clean, he boots it up, pops in the CD, and stares dumbfounded at the screen.
He is expecting some kind of virtual-dating game or something ridiculous.
Instead, he stares at the figure of a young woman curled up with her eyes closed. Scrolling through the menu options, Matt finds a list of customization features. He can change her hair, skin, and eye color to whatever he pleased. He is able to alter her body proportions and he blushes darkly as his mouse hovers over her chest.
”What kind of program is this?!” he wonders, feeling like a pervert or a dirty, old man.
Leaning back in his chair, he debates on whether he should destroy the CD now or later. Unable to bring himself to exit the program, Matt rubs the back of his hands anxiously. Eventually, he returns his fingers to the keyboard.
Changing her hair to (h/c), he cuts her hair to just passed her shoulders and gives it a slight curl. Dragging the color slider, he makes her eyes (e/c). Applying a bare minimum of make-up to enhance her facial features, Matt plays with her face until her nose and cheek bones satisfy him.
Admittedly, this ‘game’ is strangely addicting. Matt feels like he’s playing God, when he created Eve.
Moving on to her clothes, Matt almost forgets to give her underwear as he picks out a leather jacket and some cargo pants.  Blushing furiously as he sifts through the line of panties, he gives up and randomly clicks one.
Slapping on a pair of heeled boots and a corset under the jacket, he gives her outfit a blue and black color scheme.
Finally, he clicks ‘done’ and a text box pops up prompting him to name her.
Typing in ______, he presses enter.
Remarkably, she opens her (e/c) eyes as if she’s waking up from an extended sleep. Blinking drowsily, she yawns and stretches, her belly nearly showing beneath her corset. Turning her attention to Matt, her eyes widen in surprise.
Then a wide smile appears on her face and she bounces from foot-to-foot. Doing some sort of excited dance, she stops to gaze at him adoringly.
Unnerved, Matt pushes away from the desk. It feels as if she’s actually looking directly at him.
Her lips move to form words, but no sound erupts from the computer.
Matt checks the speakers, yet the program doesn’t support sound.
Instead, her voice appears as a typed message on the screen.
“HELLO BELOVED. MAY I ASK FOR YOUR NAME?”
Unsure of how to respond, Matt absent-mindedly types in his name.
“MATT…I SHALL CHERISH THE SOUND OF IT ON MY TONGUE…”
_______ closes her eyes and sighs longingly. A light dusting of pink adorns her cheeks as she mouths Matt’s name.
”Okaaaay, this is getting a bit creepy,” thinks Matt, uncomfortable.
Opening her eyes, she smiles warmly at him through the screen. Brushing a strand of her (h/c) hair out of her face, ______ tilts her head curiously to the side.
“CAN YOU TURN ON YOUR WEBCAM, SO THAT I MAY GAZE UPON YOUR FACE?”
Matt shakes his head until he realizes she can’t see him. Wait…but then how does she know he’s there? Deciding to play along for now, Matt checks the box for his webcam and a tiny light signals it’s been turned on.
Covering her mouth with her hands, she gasps before squealing in delight. Removing her hands, she blushes lightly as she gazes at him hypnotized.
“WOW…YOU ARE SO CUTE, MATT!”
Shrugging, Matt turns away. Why is he embarrassed by a compliment from a simulation?
“I’m not cute,” he mutters quietly.
“OH, BUT YOU ARE! AND SO HANDSOME!” ______ swoons like a love-sick school girl and her (h/c) swishes from side-to-side.
”She can hear me?” wonders Matt, surprised.
“Who are you?” he asks, leaning closer to the screen.
“MY NAME IS _______,” she answers.
“No, what are you?” he sighs.
“YOUR SOULMATE.”