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asmine · 28 days ago

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YOU'LL GET SICK ୨ৎ matthew sturniolo

in which. . .you're matt's favorite medicine➜inspired by the we had covid :( vlog!

warnings: smut, sub!matt, brat!matt, p in v, cowgirl, sex while sick (guys this is fiction), fluff!!

wc: 1.6k

*originally posted on bratzforchris in spring 2024*

you sighed as you stirred the pot of chicken noodle soup that was currently simmering on the stove. both matt and nick were home sick with COVID, and by extension, so were you and chris. despite knowing that you should be making matt quarantine, you hadn’t done very well with being apart from your boyfriend. not only did your heart long to care for him, but matt was a bit…whiny when he was sick. you found it rather endearing, the way he would whine and grab for things, and the way he would absolutely beg you to lay with him and cuddle him until he felt better. he claimed that the snuggles and you scratching his scalp softly with your nails was better than any amount of dayquil.

just because matt was your boyfriend wouldn’t stop you from caring for the other two triplets, though. you quickly turned off the stove and divided the soup into three bowls, placing them on a tray and starting the trek throughout the house to deliver the food like the boy's personal door-dasher. your first stop was chris’ room in the basement. you felt rather bad for the youngest triplet; he had never liked sleeping or even being alone, and now he was basically holed up in his room all by himself for days.

“knock knock!” you said cheerfully, announcing your arrival at his bedroom door.

chris opened his door a few moments later, looking bleary-eyed with messy hair. “hello?”

“i brought soup!” you explained happily.

“i’m not the sick one,” chris grumbled. “but thank you.”

you and Chris continued to chat for a few moments, with you making sure you kept your distance since you had been around matt, before you spoke. “well, i guess i should go finish playing doordash and make sure the toddler is alright.”

“the toddler?”

“someone's whiny when he’s sick.” you snorted.

chris laughed as well, knowing exactly who you were referencing. after bidding the youngest triplet goodbye, you picked up your tray and headed to nick’s room. seeing as how the oldest was still contagious, you shot him a quick text to let him know that his food was outside. finally, you made your way to your and matt’s shared room with one bowl of soup left. pushing open the door, you were met with a sight that you were not expecting at all. matt was on the ground doing push ups, still in pajamas and vlogging the whole thing.

“matt!” you exclaimed, setting his bowl down on his desk. “what are you doing? you’re supposed to be resting.”

“i’m bored,” your boy whined, sitting up and leaning against the wall. “and i need physical activity.”

“baby, you’re sick. you need to be resting.” you said, rolling your eyes playfully and offering him your hand to stand up.

“i took less than 100 steps yesterday. that’s sickening–” matt groaned, being cut off by a barking cough as you helped him lay down once more.

you pulled your boyfriend into your chest as you laid down beside him, running your nails through his fluffy, brown hair. matt let out a content little sigh, curling into your chest and sniffling. he was still feverish, but he was already doing loads better than he had been yesterday. at this point, he was mostly just bored and eager to do something other than watch movies, play fortnite, and sleep, despite his pounding headache.

you looked down at the boy resting on your chest as matt snuck his hand between your thighs. “what are you doing?” you asked, raising a brow.

“nothing,” matt said with faux innocence, blinking his glassy, blue eyes at you. “jus’ getting comfy.”

“you need your hand between my thighs to be comfortable?”

“mhm.”

you rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the brunette’s head. “you know you’re not a good liar, sweetheart.”

matt groaned softly, scooting his hips closer to your own as he began to rub soft circles over the fabric that covered your pussy. “‘m bored and i need that physical activity i mentioned earlier.”

“you’re also sick. when was the last time you brushed your teeth and showered?”

matt huffed cutely, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. “you’re being mean.”

before he could speak again, you turned and pressed a kiss to matt’s plump, pink lips. the boy moaned softly into the kiss, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth, making out with him as you moved yourself to straddle his waist.

“you’re gonna get sick.” matt whined softly, making no move to push you off.

“i don’t care.” you replied in a cliché manner, a dopey smile on your face as you pulled back to look at him.

matt let out a soft grunt, rutting his hips up to meet your own. “i need you,” he whimpered, already arching his back against the pillows even though you hadn’t really done anything. “gonna make me feel better.”

“you’re so whiny when you’re sick.” you tsked, running your hands along the soft skin of his abdomen to pull his white pajama shirt up and over his head.

“i am not.” he sniffled, voice gravelly from the congestion.

“are so.” you hummed back teasingly, leaving soft kisses on his warm tummy.

you could feel matt’s cock hardening beneath you, making him blush and whine as he tugged at your leggings. you pressed soft kisses to his chest and stomach as you tugged his pajama bottoms off, smirking at the way he was already hard for you, pink tip glistening with precum. matt moaned softly as he blushed harder, letting out little coughs and sniffles as he futilely attempted to cover himself.

“ah ah,” you purred, batting his hands away. “what happened to all that ‘i need physical activity’ from earlier?” you said, pulling off your shirt and bra.

“you’re a bully.” matt grumbled, hissing from the combination of the way you began to stroke his cock and the sight of your now-bare tits bouncing in his face as you got yourself worked up on his thigh.

you broke the connection for a moment to slide off your leggings and already soaked panties. you continued to palm your boyfriend's cock, leaving him whimpering and moaning as you reached into the nightstand and retrieved a condom.

“are you sure you feel okay? we don’t have to.” you assured matt, brushing some of the messy hair off of his forehead as he sneezed.

“i want to. it’ll make me feel better.” matt pouted, thrusting his dick into your hand, desperate to chase his orgasm.

“so needy.” you shook your head with a laugh, ripping open the condom and replacing your hand with the rubber on his throbbing cock.

your boyfriend hissed as you slid onto him, the feeling of your cunt clenching against him making him whimper. you began to ride Matt slowly, allowing his aching, feverish joints to get used to the feeling of you being on top. it was clear that illness or not, he was beyond needy. matt loved the feeling of you being in charge, telling him what to do and calling him a pretty boy. he was, by definition, your pillow prince, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“i thought this was supposed to be physical activity for you.” you panted with a small giggle as you began to speed up your rhythm.

matt had a lazy, sleepy smile on his face as you rode him, every now and then letting out little whimpers and moans. “my heart rate elevates every time i look at you.” he smiled cheesily and then hissed when you hit a particularly good angle, brown, feathery curls fanning out against the silken pillow cases as he arched his back.

your lower stomach began to clench with the need to orgasm at your boyfriend's sensual noises. the added gravel to his voice from the sickness was just turning you on more, making you grip matt’s shoulders shakily.

“i’m…gonna cum.” you groaned, your pussy clenching as matt whimpered again.

matt nodded, letting out loud, sexual noises as you rode him harder than you had previously. “want you to cum with me.” he pouted, looking up at you through his lashes.

you two really didn’t have a chance to say anything else as both of your climaxes overtook you. in spite of his incredibly sore throat, Matt was practically screaming your name as your orgasm clenched against his dick, making him fill the condom quickly. by the time you had regained your senses, your boyfriend had softened inside of you. you slid off of matt easily, helping him pull the condom off and dispose of it in the trash can beside the bed.

“was that enough physical activity for you?” you asked with a sly chuckle, kissing his cheek softly.

matt nodded sleepily, coughing into his arm roughly. “i feel so much better now.” he said with a watery grin.

“do you?” you asked skeptically.

“...well no, but now i’m content and no longer bored.” the brunette informed you matter-of-factly, his bratty, subby side still showing despite the fact that you were no longer fucking.

“so you aren’t going to complain about sleeping and taking medicine, right?” you murmured, grabbing a pack of baby wipes off the nightstand and wiping both yourself and matt down.

“medicine tastes like ass and i’ve slept so much in the past two days.”

you hummed in acknowledgement, pulling the comforter over the both of you until you shot up, just now remembering the bowl on matt’s desk. “fuck. your soup’s gone cold.”

“you bought me soup?” matt cocked his head and blew his nose, unaware that you had ‘left’ the house.

“i made it. i made you homemade chicken noodle soup and forgot about it because you jumped my bones.” you joked.

“you didn’t stop me,” matt pointed out, another chesty cough escaping his mouth. “but if the soup’s already cold…round two?”

“matthew.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

lilah yaps ⋆. 𐙚 ˚: hey hey hey! reposting this because i'm sick and lowkey dying and craving chicken noodle soup rn :( if you have an old fic of mine that you want me to repost, inbox me!!

tags: @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @heartsonlyforchris @mattsdiamonds @iconiccolo

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asmine · 1 month ago

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practice makes perfect! | c.s

— bf! chris sturniolo x fem! reader

— warnings: none! just FUFFY FLUFF, boyfriend!Chris, featuring matt and nick!! Japan trip, chopstick lesson, soft teasing, hand-on-hand moment, culture-sharing fluff, chaotic brothers, clingy!Chris, romantic tension, mutual adoration, flustered boy, supportive!reader, travel romance

Chris is great at a lot of things—using chopsticks just isn’t one of them. But in a cozy barbecue spot in the middle of Tokyo, with the lights low and the grill sizzling, he doesn’t mind letting you teach him. Especially when you’re this close.

dividers by @huraxy

The restaurant is warm and cozy—low golden lights, wooden walls, the soft crackle of meat sizzling on the tabletop grill.

Outside the window, Tokyo glimmers. Inside, it’s chaos.

“Okay, but hear me out,” Nick says, already unwrapping his wet napkin like it’s a prize. “What if we order everything and just… rotate bites?”

“That’s called dinner, Nick,” Matt mutters, squinting at the laminated menu like it personally wronged him.

You smile, tucking your legs underneath you on the booth bench. The little grill in the middle of the table crackles gently, filling the air with the smell of sesame, soy, and grilled garlic.

Chris is sitting beside you. His knee’s bumping yours every so often, like he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t want to stop. His hoodie sleeves are pushed up, rings glinting as he picks up the chopsticks with all the confidence in the world.

And then immediately drops them.

You try to stifle your giggle.

“I got it,” he says quickly, like he knows he didn’t.

Nick leans across the table, deadpan. “You definitely don’t got it.”

Chris ignores him. “Just slipped. These ones are… slick.”

You tilt your head, biting your lip. “Slick?”

“They’re a little rounder than the ones at sushi places back home,” he says, frowning like he’s crafting an excuse. “Slicker. Different wood. Japanese friction ratios.”

Matt nearly chokes on his water and you’re full-on laughing now.

“Okay, Mr. Physics,” you say. “Need a lesson?” Chris squints. “Only if it comes with hand-holding.”

You lean closer. “It does.” That shuts him up.

You gently reach for his hand, warm and familiar. His fingers twitch when you touch him, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he moves closer—knee against yours, shoulder brushing yours, like he wants to memorize the way this moment feels.

“Alright,” you whisper, voice playful. “This stick rests here…” You position it between his thumb and index finger. “This one’s your mover. You just pivot with the top.”

He watches your hands carefully—but not as carefully as he watches you.

“You’re not even paying attention,” you murmur, eyes still on his fingers.

“I am,” he says, lips tilted up. “Just not to the chopsticks.”

You shoot him a look. He shrugs, not even sorry. “Try picking up the meat,” you say.

He attempts. The beef slips from his grip and flops back into the plate with a wet little plop.

Matt groans. “Bro.”

Chris huffs. “It’s slippery, okay?!”

“Let me help,” you say again, gently guiding his fingers. “Light pressure. Just enough to hold it. No stabbing. No chaos.”

With your hand still over his, Chris tries again. Slowly. Gently.

This time, it lifts and he gasps. “I’m amazing.”

You clap softly. “A prodigy.”

He grins, proudly holding the bite out to you.

“For you.” You blink. “What?”

“You heard me. Open up.”

So you do. You lean forward and take the bite from his chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully, trying not to smile as he watches you like you’re the only person in the room.

Nick groans from across the table. “I’m so serious, I’m going to throw myself into the grill.”

“Jealous?” Chris grins, turning to you again. “She’s proud of me. That’s all that matters.”

You laugh. “I am proud.”

“And grateful?” he asks. “For the food and the romantic gesture?”

“Very.” Chris beams.

The rest of the dinner is full of laughter—Chris gets better with the chopsticks, and you keep helping when he fumbles. Nick makes a game out of flipping the meat perfectly, and Matt tries to translate the dipping sauces without Google.

Chris leans into you the whole time, brushing shoulders, nudging your knee, stealing glances like he can’t help himself.

When dessert comes (mochi and little caramel custards), Chris cuts his in half and slides it onto your plate. You raise an eyebrow.

“I thought you said that one was yours.”

“It was,” he says. “Now it’s ours.”

You kiss his cheek before you can think twice. He blushes.

Later that night… Back at the hotel, Chris collapses face-down on the bed, limbs sprawled, hoodie riding up his back.

“I think I burned my fingers on the grill.”

You laugh softly. “You also dropped three pieces of meat and made the waitress giggle when you tried to order.”

“Yeah,” he says, muffled into a pillow. “But I got you to feed me.”

You crawl onto the bed beside him, resting your chin on his back. “And I’d do it again.”

He turns his head to look at you. His hair’s a little messy, eyes sleepy and soft.

“Hey,” he says, quiet now. “Thanks for showing me.”

“Of course.”

“No—I mean…” He reaches back for your hand. “For coming with us. For making this trip feel like more than just a trip.”

Your chest tightens in that good, full way. You squeeze his hand. “You’re my favorite view.”

He grins. “Even more than the Tokyo skyline?”

You nod. “You’re brighter.” Chris blinks like he wasn’t ready for that.

Then he rolls onto his side, pulling you close until your face is tucked against his chest and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay,” he murmurs, hugging you tight. “But tomorrow, I’m learning how to use those little soy sauce dishes. And I’m gonna crush it.”

You laugh into his hoodie. “I believe in you.”

And that night, wrapped in his arms with the soft glow of Tokyo outside the window, you fall asleep smiling.

Because practice doesn’t just make perfect, sometimes, it makes everything.

after watching the vlog i literally needed to write about it like its such a cute ideaa <3

click here to be added to my taglist and here for masterlist <3

taglist 1 ✎ @chrisissobabygirl @sturnzwrld @strnilolover @sweetshuga @mattslilies @sirensdollesque @slxtarchive @heartsonlyforchris @sturns-mermaid @bluessturniolo @pasteldreams @endereies @solarsturniolo @drewswife @conspiracy-ash @courta13 @ivytthew @blushsturns @surprisecurlyfriess @mazzystarrysky @eclipsturns @riasturns @mattsgirl4ever @elisesturnz @ribbonlovergirl @chrisslut04 @pair-of-pantaloons @obxfansstuff @poppetbaby02 @bgfshai @kalel2005 @sturniszn @leahfaith @rafespuppyy @babciaala13 @whump-loverz @chrispycremedonut @mattsdiva

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asmine · 2 months ago

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The Underdog - Chris Sturniolo

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Y/n

Summary: Chris is a rising star in the MLS - talented, charming, and known for being a player, both on and off the pitch. He’s never had a girlfriend, but always had a soft spot for Y/n, the girl who knew him before the fame but never took him seriously. Once their paths cross again, will history repeat itself or start to feel like potential?

It’s Thursday evening, and my apartment smells like takeout with a hint of unserious stress. A pile of open textbooks and empty pizza boxes are scattered across my bedroom floor, all of us pretending to study while slowly drifting into talk of playoffs. That’s what happens when you live in Houston and the Dynamo’s make the final, nothing else really matters for a few days. Not even our looming exams.

We’re all future biology teachers in theory, but tonight? We're just soccer fans, buzzing like the rest of the city.

“Anyone got a spare jersey?” Liv asks, digging through a drawer like one might magically appear.

“Yeah I’ve got one” Tasha says. “You can wear my orange home kit, it says Herrera on the back of it.”

“I’m just excited for the night out after if I’m honest” Liv grins, turning as she closes the drawer. “The city’s gonna be wild whether we win or lose.”

“Oh we’re gonna win!” I say without thinking, leaning back against my beds headboard. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

“Oh okay Ms.Manifestation, lets hope you’re right.” Tasha smirks. “So, who do you think’s going to start?”

Liv gives me a look. A slow, smug kind of smirk that makes me want to throw a pillow at her before she even opens her mouth. I know where she’s going with this.

“I think Chris Sturniolo will be in the starting 11.” she says, way too casually.

I roll my eyes immediately. “Please stop.”

“What?” she grins, “It’s a valid take.”

“I swear, if you lot start this again-”

Maya, who’s only just moved in from Utah this semester is still catching up with everything, so she raises a brow. “Wait, what’s the deal with Chris Sturniolo?”

The girls all look at me, waiting for me to explain.

I sigh. “We knew each other a few years ago. We were in the same school year, he used to try it with me constantly. Like.. wouldn’t let it go. But I never gave in. Ever.”

Tasha sniggers. “Yeah keyword is tried. Girl was made of stone.”

I laugh, because it’s true. Chris was.. persistent, to say the least. Always smiling like he knew one day he’d get what he wanted.

But he’s a pro footballer now. One of Houston’s most talked about rising stars, considered a wonderkid. But to me? He’s still that same guy who never took no for an answer, and always thought he could change my mind.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if he’s actually starting Sunday.

“I actually don’t hear much about him anymore, like.. on a personal level” I say, almost more to myself than anyone else. “Soccer fans absolutely idolise him now, but it’s weird not seeing him pop up anywhere else.”

Maya tilts her head, as she looks up from her phone. “Does he have a girlfriend?.. I mean.. he is a goodlooking boy.”

The rest of us shake our heads in sync like it’s a reflex.

“Nope.”

“Never.”

“Not a real one anyway” Liv adds, stretching her legs over the edge of the bed. “Chris was one for hookups and hookups only.”

I shrug, grabbing my cup off the floor. “That’s why I never went for him. Even back then, he just seemed like one big player. Flashy smile, smooth talk, always surrounded by people, and never the same girl twice.”

“Sounds like half the team then” Maya mutters, making us laugh.

“But seriously..” I continue, “he was the kind of guy who made you feel like you were the only one in the room.. and then did the exact same thing with someone else five minutes later.”

Maya whistles. “Yikes.”

“Exactly, I’m not falling for that one.”

Still, part of me wonders if he’s changed. Fame does that to people, sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the better. Or maybe he just got better at hiding it.

I shake the thought off. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t spoken to him in years, and after Sunday’s final, he’ll be off doing whatever pro soccer players do in the off season. Probably in Miami, probably surrounded by beautiful women.

But all in the same breath, curiosity gets the better of me.

While the others argue over who’s going to score first on Sunday, I quietly grab my phone and search Chris on Instagram.

It doesn’t take long, his account pops right up, verified tick and everything.

His page is exactly what I expect. Clean, posed, very.. athlete. Rows of football photos, in uniform, mid training, post match grins with a mix of gym selfies.

As much of a player as he was, I have to admit it, it’s nice seeing someone from here actually make it.

Houston raised. Houston playing.

It’s not often a local boy gets the opportunity to be the hometown hero.

I scroll a bit more. He’s gained a ton of followers, influencers, fitness pages, fans from all over the league. Probably girls from everywhere too, which is why I tell myself if I hit follow, it’ll go completely unnoticed.

So I do.

Just a little harmless follow.

Nothing more.

I zone back into the conversation, locking my phone and tossing it to the side like I hadn’t just deep dived into Chris Sturniolo’s highlight reel.

The girls are still chatting, this time full swing into pregame plans.

“I’m thinking we start at Liv’s place” Tasha says, already listing off who’s bringing what. “She’s closest to the stadium anyway.”

“I’ll have shots ready before we leave” Liv nods with full commitment.

“And where are we going after?” I ask, taking a swig of my water and trying to act like I hadn’t mentally wandered off for five minutes.

Maya lights up. “Oh actually! My cousin said if they win, the team’s hitting Fire.”

“Fire Fire?” I repeat, eyebrows raised.

She grins. “Yup. Fire Nightclub. The whole team’s planning to go with the cup and everything. Shots, DJ, bottle girls, the works.”

“Oh we’re definitely going then” Liv says, already pulling out her phone to make sure her outfit's still sitting in her cart.

“Imagine getting a pic with the cup” Maya laughs.

“Or with Chris Sturniolo” Liv teases, looking directly at me.

I roll my eyes hard enough to see my own brain. “Don’t start.”

But part of me knows.. if Houston wins and Chris ends up at Fire that night.. the chances of running into him just got very real.

Just as Livs finishing her smug little smirk, I hear it.

Ding.

I glance down at my phone, lighting up beside me on my bed.

I look down.

Chris Sturniolo followed you.

Then, ding again.

Two notifications in such a short time.

A message.

Chris Sturniolo: “What’s up Y/n”

There's no way he’s just text me.

a/n : before we start i dont know how the MLS truly works and calling it soccer is making me SICK

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit @mattswrinkleton @asmine @sagesturns

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asmine · 2 months ago

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More than a toothbrush | chris sturniolo

Chris had been dropping hints for weeks.

Little nudges like, “You know you don’t have to bring your bag every single time,” or, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you left your favorite hoodie here instead of packing it back and forth?” But every time, she’d wave it off with a quiet smile and a soft, “I don’t want to intrude.”

Chris hated that word. Intrude. Like she wasn’t already one of the most comforting, important, loved parts of his life. Like she wasn’t already someone who curled into his side like she belonged there—because she did.

It finally hit him one Thursday night.

She was standing at his bathroom sink, balancing her skincare bag on the edge of the counter. Face wash, serum, moisturizer—all her little products lined up for the five minutes she’d need before they’d crawl into bed.

“Why don’t you just leave it here?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the tub, shirtless and barefoot, watching her apply something with a dropper like it was a science experiment.

She blinked at him through the mirror. “What?”

“Your face wash. Your serum. Your…eye goo, whatever it is. Just leave it. Keep it here.”

She shook her head with a soft laugh. “Chris…”

“No, I mean it.” He stood up, walking behind her and resting his chin on her shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around her waist. “I hate that you keep acting like this isn’t your space too.”

“It’s your apartment,” she said gently. “You share it with your brothers. I’m already here all the time. I don’t want to overstep.”

Chris turned her to face him, hands warm on her hips. “You’re not overstepping, baby. You’re home. I want you here more. I like seeing your stuff in my bathroom. I like when your sweater’s on my desk chair or your socks are mixed in with mine. And I love when your toothbrush is next to mine.” His voice softened even more. “I wanna see more than that.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, the weight of his words settling into her chest.

“Chris…”

“Look,” he said, brushing a hand down her arm. “Leave a couple outfits here. Your face stuff. Your fuzzy pajama pants that I boughtl anyway. You already spend most nights here. Let yourself exist here without it feeling like you’re on borrowed time.”

She looked up at him, eyes glassy in that tender-overwhelm way he’d come to recognize.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want this—us—to feel permanent. I don’t want it to feel like you’re visiting. I want it to feel like you’re just…home.”

A long silence passed. Then, slowly, her lips curled into the softest smile.

“Okay,” she whispered.

The next day, she showed up with a little duffle bag. Chris didn’t make a big deal out of it—just helped her unpack like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She lined up her face products in the corner of the bathroom counter. Hung a hoodie or two in his closet. Left a drawer half-filled with sweats, jeans, and oversized tees. And when she noticed him gently folding her socks into the top drawer next to his own, her heart cracked wide open.

Later that night, they were tangled on the couch watching a movie when she whispered, “I like having my stuff here.”

Chris kissed the top of her head, arm snug around her. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I plan on organizing all of it anyway.”

She laughed, leaning closer, and it felt—finally, fully—like hers too. Like more than just a visit.

Like home.

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asmine · 2 months ago

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𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝐚/𝐧- this is just a silly fluffy thing, im out of smut ideas, i need requests!

------------------------------------------------------------

its not uncommon for matt to be throwing punches at cameras or thin air. i dont know why he does it. is he practicing to be a future boxer? or does he just think he looks cool?

after spending the night round my boyfriends house, i walk into his bathroom to take a shower and im met with the sight of him looking into the mirror and throwing punches at.. his reflection? in nothing but his boxers by the way.

and he’s really getting into it, grunting softly as his fists stop a couple centimetres away from the mirror. he doesn’t look at all cool, with his tongue slightly poking out between his pink lips to focus, and the slight furrow of his brows. the only thing that’s remotely cool is the way his biceps flex with each jab, but he doesn’t pay any mind to that.

however, the moment he hears the door creak open he stops dead in his tracks, staring at me through the mirror.

“oh, hi” he murmurs, a flushed embarrassed expression on his face as he realises how stupid he must have looked.

“the fuck are you doing?” i tease with a chuckle and smirk at him through the mirror.

his cheeks grow a deeper shade of pink as he turns around slowly, running a hand through his messy hair. “uhm… practicing? obviously.”

“for what exactly? a street fight with your own reflection?” i laugh, stepping into the bathroom with him and tracing my fingers along his bicep.

he looks down at me with that cute look in his eyes, the one that always makes my stomach flip. “you never know,” he shrugs. “might wake up one day and my evil twin tries to steal my beautiful girlfriend.”

“and by evil twin you mean chris?” i giggle and roll my eyes.

“wha- no! just-“ he groans dramatically. “if you didn’t interrupt i would’ve knocked my reflection out.”

my fingers continue their path up and down his upperarm, feeling the muscles relax under my touch. “you’re lucky your reflection didn’t hit you back, weirdo”

his blue eyes watch my digits graze against his skin. he wraps his arms around my waist and brings a hand up to brush a strand of hair out of my face.

“admit it,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine, “you liked the bicep thing a little?”

i bite my lip and scratch my head, pretending to think. “maybe just a little,” i whisper. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

he grins, lowering his mouth down and lingering a kiss on my forehead.

“you know,” i start “if you ever do fight your reflection, i think you’d win”

“you’re damn right i would,” he chuckles “now what do you want?”

“to shower?” i frown.

“let me come, will you?” he asks pleadingly, “punching the mirror works up more of a sweat than you’d think”

i laugh but agree nonetheless, starting to strip my pjs off, “fine, but you better not throw any punches in there. i dont wanna get knocked out mid-shampoo”

he snorts. “no promises.”

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@gabssturniolo @h8aaz @l0s3rhaha @courta13 @bernardsbendystraws @ilovesturniolozz @sturns-mermaid @mf-divaaa-08 @sturniolo-szn2

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asmine · 2 months ago

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why does everyone hate matts actual beard💔💔💔 i think its so sexy. like dont get me wrong hes always sexy and i love the stubble but LORD the beard has me feral.

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asmine · 2 months ago

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mean!chris x shy!reader

✰ content warning: smut, sneaking around, pornography, masturbation, oral(m & f!receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, enemies to lovers

✰ summary: the morning after you and chris share a mutual masturbation session together, you both have to act normal around his suspicious brothers. the tension grows even thicker when the two of you are left alone all afternoon.

Idk who first wrote mean!chris or shy!reader, so I can't give proper credits, but I feel like it's been done before. I can't claim this is an original AU, but I hope you enjoy the fic! Credits to everyone who did it before me! ✰

dividers by @/anitalenia

Lights Turned On

chapters: | 1 | 2 |

The next morning, the sound of the heater kicking on woke you up around 9 a.m. You were on the hard living room floor with Matt to your right, beginning to stir. Nick was already up and making coffee in the other room, the aromatic scent drifting through the air.

You shivered, tugging your wool blanket up to your chin. Sunlight was beginning to pour in through the big window, lighting up the front of the house. You yawned, the detailed memories from the night before flooding back to you - Chris, walking in on him, seeing him naked for the first time, finishing beside him.

You almost had to ask yourself if it was all a dream, but when your tired eyes fluttered opened, Chris was descending the stairs. He was in a sweater and flannel pajama pants, and he was holding a laundry basket with his sheets in it. There was a part of you that felt hurt when he didn't even glance in your direction.

"You piss the bed or something?" Matt teased Chris, motioning towards the basket full of his bedding.

"Fuck off," Chris hastily mumbled under his breath on his way to the laundry room. You quickly turned away and blushed, knowing he was probably washing them because of the mess you made on them. It definitely wasn't a dream, but you were better off pretending it was, that way you didn't bring any attention to the situation.

Matt shifted around in the blankets, rubbing his eyes and turning to face you. "Hey, did you go upstairs last night?" He casually asked you. Your eyes subtly widened, and your heartrate started to quicken.

"Yeah, I went to go wash off my makeup," you shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Why was he asking?

"Then why didn't you?" He asked, furrowing his brow and letting out a chuckle as he motioned towards the smeared eyeliner on your eye lids and your crusty day-old mascara. "You look like a damn racoon."

Blood rushed to your cheeks, realizing you were going to have to think on your feet and lie, because after you'd gotten caught up in your little side quest with Chris, you completely forgot the main objective of going upstairs in the first place.

"Yeah, turns out I forgot my makeup wipes and my face wash at home," you shrugged, rolling your eyes at yourself and shooting a weak smile in his direction.

"You could've used my face wash," Matt narrowed his gaze at you. "Or Nick's."

"I just didn't feel right about using it without asking first," you lied, shrugging a shoulder and glancing over at Matt's face to see if he bought it.

"You're always welcome to our stuff. You know that," Matt said, giving you a skeptical look. You could feel the awkward tension growing between the two of you. You could tell that Matt could tell that you were hiding something.

"Why'd you ask?" You wondered out loud, taking control of the conversation. You tried to make your question sound as nonchalant as possible, trying to figure out what he already knew without seeming like you were trying to gather information.

"Well, I woke up last night, and you were gone. I stayed up for like twenty minutes before I fell back asleep, but you never came back down. I almost went upstairs looking for you, but I dozed off," Matt replied.

Your heart dropped at his words. The thought of him stumbling upon you and Chris and your intimate moment sent a rush of panic through you.

"So, why were you upstairs for that long? Were you alright?" Matt inquired with an almost concerned look on his face. You had to come up with something quickly that would either answer all his questions or keep him from asking them.

"God, Matt! I was having lady issues. Do you have to pry so hard?" You snapped back defensively, knowing he wouldn't want to press further. You threw the blanket off in annoyance as Matt mumbled an apology to you.

You almost felt bad for being snippy with him, but you didn't know any other way to handle the situation in the moment without incriminating yourself, so you doubled down. You got up with a huff and headed to the kitchen to join Nick.

"Coffee?" Nick offered, glancing over at you, already refilling his Keurig with water in anticipation that you were going to say yes. You weren't the type to ever turn down a cup of coffee.

"Sure, thanks," you accepted, giving him a warm smile. Nick grabbed you a french vanilla kcup and your favorite mug out of the cabinet and started brewing a cup for you.

You peered through the doorway that connected the kitchen to the laundry room as Chris pulled his sweater off over his head and tossed it into the wash with his bedding. His intense blue eyes met yours for just a moment, but his expression was completely unreadable.

You loved how mysterious he was, but you also hated it, and you especially hated how much you loved it. You were usually good at reading people, but Chris' mannerisms, his expressions, and his tone, all left you with more questions than answers.

He went back to loading up the washing machine, but he started subtly flexing, enjoying the attention you were giving him even if he was really good at acting like he didn't notice. You dropped your gaze to the way his pajama pants hung low on his hips, revealing the waistband of his black Calvin Klein underwear. Your eyes wandered to the bulge in his pants.

"Did you hear me?" Nick inquired, breaking you out of your dirty thoughts that you were entertaining about his brother.

"Huh?" You asked, not realizing he had been speaking to you or that you had been subconsciously holding your breath the whole time. Nick glanced at where you were looking and back at you, giving you a confused look as if he could tell what you were thinking.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about all the laundry I have to get done," you nervously responded, quickly pulling your gaze away from Chris' bulge.

"You're good," Nick replied. "I was just letting you know I'm leaving for my Space Camp meeting soon, and Matt's coming with me if he ever gets his ass up," Nick chuckled, looking over his shoulder into the living room where Matt still laying on the floor on his phone. You snorted at Nick's comment.

"You can come if you want, but it might be a little boring. You're also free to just hang out here as long as you don't mind being stuck here with Chris."

You shrugged, trying to act like you weren't dying to stay back. "I don't mind hanging out here," you told Nick, taking your cup of coffee from him once it was done brewing. Nick took his mug with him into the living room, saying something to Matt about him being the laziest person he's ever met.

You wandered over to the boys' fridge to get some milk for your coffee. You reached down and picked up the carton, and when you turned to close the fridge door, Chris' blue eyes met yours as he was preparing his own cup of coffee a few feet away.

He shook his head and let out a soft scoff. "Gonna stay and hang out here with me all day? Thought you had laundry to do," he joked, giving you a smirk to let you know that he'd noticed you checking him out.

Your palms began to sweat, nearly losing your grasp on the milk in your hand. You could hardly hear Nick and Matt arguing or the sound of the Keurig brewing over your heart hammering away. Chris leaned up against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he licked his lips.

"You better put your eyes back in your head before one of my brothers catches you staring at me like that," Chris warned you, reaching down the front of his underwear and adjusting his hardening cock. Your gaze followed his wandering hand for just a moment before you caught yourself staring.

You blushed, averting your eyes to the two boys in the other room. Matt was still laying on the floor, bickering back and forth with Nick about how long it would take him to get ready.

"I've already called the Uber. They're like ten minutes away!" Nick rolled his eyes, standing over Matt with one hand on his hip, and his other hand looped through the handle of his ceramic mug. "You think I can't get ready in ten minutes?" Matt scoffed, finally climbing to his feet.

You turned your attention back to Chris, who was taking a step towards you, your stomach fluttering as he got close to you, thinking for a moment that he might kiss you. "You gonna do something with it or just stand there?" He smirked, towering over you.

"Do something with it?" You reiterated, your breath growing shallow as you peered up into his perfect blue eyes. Was he asking you to..?

"The milk, you little pervert," he chuckled, looking down at the carton you still held in your trembling hand. He took it from you without waiting for you to answer. He poured a bit into his steaming hot coffee and turned back to you, handing you back the milk. He brought his mug to his lips and took a sip from it, holding eye contact with you. You'd never been so jealous of a cup of coffee before.

"I had fun last night," he said, finally addressing the elephant in the room, "but if you're hoping for another show, just know, the first one may have been free, but the next one's gonna cost ya." Chris winked, gently brushing past you as he walked off in the other direction, heading towards his room.

Your jaw dropped, and you peered back over your shoulder at Chris as he ascended the stairs, admiring his back muscles. You could hardly wait for Nick and Matt to leave to figure out exactly what Chris meant by that little comment.

A few minutes later, you said your goodbyes to Nick and Matt, wishing Nick luck with his brand deal and apologizing to Matt for snapping on him earlier.

You took a shower in the upstairs bathroom after they left, finally washing the old makeup from your face and letting the hot water run down your back. The whole time you stood under the shower head, rinsing the shampoo from your hair, your mind was swimming with thoughts of Chris, replaying last night's events and anticipating what today would be like now that the two of you had the house to yourselves.

You spent a little extra time in the shower, scrubbing yourself and shaving all your body hair, trying to convince yourself you weren't doing it in case Chris wanted to have sex with you, even though you knew you were.

Suddenly, you heard the bathroom door open and close, which startled you and caused you to knick your ankle with your razor. "Shit," you whispered, watching the bit of blood color the water before swirling down the drain.

"Gonna use up all the hot water before I can get a shower in, huh?" Chris snorted as you heard the sound of the faucet running.

"W-What are you doing in here?" You managed to get out, stumbling over your words.

"Using my bathroom," he scoffed as if it weren't the most obvious answer in the world.

"You can't just barge in here," you argued, peeking out from behind the shower curtain at the shirtless boy who was applying some toothpaste to his toothbrush.

"You mean, like you did to me last night?" Chris winked at you and started brushing his teeth. You pulled the curtain closed again with a huff and went back to shaving your legs.

A couple minutes later, you heard Chris spit into the sink, rinse off his toothbrush, and knock the excess water off of it. You thought he was just about to leave when you heard the toilet lid open and the sound of Chris emptying his bladder just a few feet from you.

"Ew, are you peeing in here right now!?" You exclaimed.

"Yeah? So?" He nonchalantly asked, shrugging.

"You're disgusting," you shot back, rolling your eyes.

"If I'm so disgusting, why do you want me so bad then?" He teased you. You couldn't even think of a witty comeback. Instead, you scoffed at him loudly and waited for him to flush before you shut off the water. At least he washes his hands, you thought as you heard the faucet running again.

"Can you hurry up?" You asked. "I'm done with my shower. I'm ready to get out now."

"Then get out," he responded. You poked your head out from behind the shower curtain and gave him an unamused look. "What? You got to see every inch of me last night." Chris leaned up against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your gaze flickered between him and your towel that was slung over the rack across the room. He smirked at you and reached for your towel, handing it to you. You snatched it out of his hand and started drying off behind the curtain. You wrapped the towel around your chest and stepped out onto the bath mat, your eyes meeting Chris'.

"Why are you still in here?" You retorted, glaring.

"Just waitin' for my turn to use the shower. Didn't expect ya to take all damn day," Chris sneered back. His gaze danced over you, eyeing you up and down as you wiped away the condensation on the mirror with your hand.

"You're bleeding," Chris observed. You glanced down at your ankle and the drop of blood that was slowly running down your skin. "Here, hop up on the counter," he told you, moving closer towards you, grabbing you by your waist and spinning you around.

He lifted you by your hips, propping you up on the ledge of the granite countertop, your heart skipping a beat. Your gaze met his for a moment. He reached around you to grab a bandaid out of the drawer and a tissue from the kleenex box beside you.

He kneeled down in front of you, wiping away the bit of blood that dripped down your the side of your foot and carefully placed a bandaid on your cut. His hand gently brushed over your freshly shaven leg as he stood back up.

"There," he softly cooed, both of his hands resting on the countertop and his face just inches from yours. "I'm gonna go take a shower. By the time I'm done, I want you completely naked on my bed, legs spread, touching yourself to your favorite kind of porn," he lowered his voice, searching your face for a reaction.

Your heart pounded in your ears, your eyes widened, and you could feel your cheeks flush as he spoke. You turned your head away, avoiding eye contact. "You hear me?" He wondered aloud, tipping your chin up to face him again. "You got to watch me last night. Now it's my turn to watch you." His intense blue eyes bore into yours.

Your breath was caught in your throat. Any boldness you had the night before was completely diminished when he spoke to you like that, his body draping over yours as you sat there in your towel. All you could do was nod.

Chris took a step back, dropping his bottoms with a smirk. You glanced down almost as a reflex but quickly turned away to leave the room. You heard the shower kick on behind you.

You walked down the hall, completely embarrassed by what Chris had asked you to do - and admittedly, a little turned on by it at the same time. When you walked into Chris' room, you noticed a vanilla-scented candle lit on his bedside table next to his lamp.

Your eyes wandered to the new, fresh sheet he had on his bed. You finished drying off, letting your towel drop to the floor. You laid on the clean linen, propping yourself up against his headboard with a soft pillow behind you. You nervously bit down on your lip, preparing to do what Chris had told you he wanted you to be doing when he walked in.

Your palms started sweating, and your face grew hot. You opened your phone, scrolling through some porn when a lesbian video caught your eye. You clicked on it, your stare locked onto the two women and the way they started kissing and undressing each other.

Your hand wandered south, your fingers drawing closer to your heat as the scene played out in front of you. After the two of them made out for a few minutes, the video started to get even more steamy. Their hands roamed each other's bodies and their mouths, too.

You watched as one woman started sucking on the other woman's neck, slowly moving down to her collarbone and then to her breast. She took the woman's nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. She trailed kisses down her stomach, parting her thighs, and started gently licking her between her legs.

A soft moan unfurled from your lips as you started gently rubbing your clit in circles. You were so enthralled with the hot scene and how good your hand felt that you nearly forgot you were in Chris' bed or that he could walk in on you any minute.

You started going at it faster now, your breath quickening and your fingers making tighter, more fervent circles as you listened to the heavenly sounds the girl made while she was being eaten out. That's when Chris appeared in the doorway, leaning up against the doorframe with his towel hung loosely around his hips as he watched in awe.

You didn't notice him yet, too caught up in what you were doing, your body squirming beneath your own touch. His voice startled you when he finally spoke. "Look at you," he quietly said, smirking, his gaze fixed on you. He stepped forward, running his fingers through his damp hair, a few water droplets rolling down his chest.

He approached the side of the bed and gently brushed the back of his hand against your flushed cheek. "What do we have here?" He inquired, peeking over at your phone screen and raising an eyebrow at what he saw. You immediately grew self-conscious and started to close your legs. "Ah, ah, ah," Chris cooed, "keep 'em open."

He gently wedged your knees apart again with his strong hands, his eyes dancing over your breasts and your glistening pussy that you continued to toy with. "You're watchin' girls, huh?" He sweetly asked, his voice laced with a hint of jealousy.

You bit down on your lip and nodded, still drawing lazy, slow circles on your clit. "What do you like about girls?" He asked, brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face as he watched the video alongside you.

"They're soft and sensual, and they just know what they're doing more than boys do," you admitted, your eyes still fixed on your phone screen and the way the two girls were interacting with one another.

"They know what they're doing more than boys do, hmm?" Chris repeatedly you, sounding skeptical. "You really believe that?" You nodded, your eyes flickering up at his. He let out a low chuckle.

"We'll see about that," he smirked, taking your phone from you, shutting off the screen, and tossing it to the side. "C'mon. I'm your entertainment now. Let's put that mouth of yours to good use, hmm?" Chris softly purred, dropping his towel.

His hard cock sprung out at eye-level with you, and he gently placed his palm on the back of your head, his fingers combing through your locks. He gripped you by the underside of your hair, guiding you towards his swollen tip. He pressed it up against your full lips, watching it slowly disappear behind them.

He let out a relieved sigh, a smile curling on his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, too nervous to look directly at him. He softly chuckled at your timid nature.

"C'mon. Look at me, pretty girl. Don't get all shy on me," he softly whispered, coaxing you to meet his gaze with yours. "That's it," he hissed as you slowly peered up at him, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes. He looked like a God, standing over you, his perfect skin glistening from his shower.

You softly moaned around his length, the vibration causing him to twitch in your mouth and involuntarily tighten the grip on your head. He watched you through heavy lidded eyes, his jaw dropping as you took him further.

He reveled in the sight of you looking up at him with his cock buried behind your soft, wet lips. "Good fuckin' girl," he rasped, gently rocking his hips forward, taking in the view.

His gaze travelled between your legs, admiring the way your fingers traced your clit. "Fuck, you look so good like this," Chris hoarsely whispered. "Wonder what Matt and Nick would think if they knew I had you like this right now," he smirked, his words causing you to clench around nothing.

You hummed around his perfect cock, feeling it spasm against your lips. He tipped his head back for a moment, his blue eyes rolling back as a few pleasured sounds poured from him. You could feel him throbbing as your tongue traced every vein.

You could tell he was already close, and it took every ounce of willpower for him to hold his hips still. He grabbed you by your hair and slowly pulled you off of him. "Fuck," he whispered, his cock twitching at the loss of contact.

He brought his attention back to the way your hand was moving fervently between your legs. He slowly paced over towards the foot of the bed to get a better view of you touching yourself for him. "So wet, aren't you?" He purred, slowly lowering his head between your thighs. Your heart raced, anticipating his next move.

"Put your fingers inside," Chris ordered you, his hot breath hitting your cunt as he spoke, causing your toes to curl. "You heard me. Put them inside," he repeated. You nodded, taking two of your fingers, placing them at your entrance, and slowly pushing them in. A soft whimper escaped your lips as your knuckles disappeared into your hole. "Fuck yeah. That's it. Now fuck yourself with them. Hard."

You did as he said, pistoning your fingers in and out of your pussy, the wet, languid sounds filling the room. Your breath grew ragged and your moans grew louder. Chris licked his lips, his gaze fixed on your glistening cunt.

"Stop," he said suddenly. You halted your movements, giving him an inquisitive look as you slowly removed your fingers. He hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling your heat closer to his face. He placed his strong hands on the back of your legs, pinning your knees to your chest and nearly folding you in half.

Without warning, he started slowly and seductively tracing your folds with his tongue. You pinched your eyebrows together, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against his soft pillow. "Oh, no you don't. Eyes on me," he ordered you.

You peered down at him with a glazed over expression, eager to do whatever he said even if it was out of your comfort zone. You watched his tongue slither out from behind his lips once more, and he started flicking it against your clit. "Oh!" You whimpered, your body jolting at the sensation.

He chuckled against your heat, watching you writhe around. He closed his lips down around your sensitive bud, alternating between tenderly suckling on it and licking it. He rolled his soft and velvety tongue against you, your wetness starting to drip down his chin.

"Chris.." you squealed. He hummed against you, vibrations reverberating through your whole body. You kept your eyes fixed on him the whole time, his blue eyes that were staring into your soul and his quick tongue that were just about to fall apart on. He pulled away just before you could.

You let out a disappointed sigh, your climax ripped out from under you before you could reach the point of no return.

You watched Chris position his length at your entrance. Your eyes and your mouth widened as he started slowly dragging his pink tip up and down your folds, teasing your slit. He shot you a smirk as he finally sunk it in, ripping a few satisfied sounds from your core.

Your walls enveloped him, accepting him and sucking him in as he pushed a bit deeper. A guttural sound left his lips as you stretched around his throbbing member. "God, your pussy is perfect," he purred, slowly rolling his hips back and forth. "Takin' me like a good girl, aren't you?" He grabbed your left leg and slung your ankle over his shoulder to get a deeper stroke.

"Oh, my god," you sharply gasped, feeling his tip kissing your cervix over and over again. It wasn't just his size, but the way he fucked - the way he stirred his hips into you, the way he angled himself inside of you, and the way his thrusts were sensual and slow but incredibly powerful nonetheless.

"Feel that? You like that?" He seductively asked you, his fingertips gliding over your thigh as he pushed into you once more.

"Yes! Right there," you moaned, not worrying about your volume, considering the two of you had the house to yourselves. Each restrained movement he made drove you crazy. You knew he was holding back - taunting you. You grasped for Chris' soft sheets beneath you, desperate for something to anchor you.

Chris bent your knee and pressed it into your chest as he burrowed himself deeper, using all his body weight with each skillful plunge. "So fuckin' pretty when you're about to fall apart on my cock," he told you through his breathlessness, tenderly placing a hand on your face as he pressed his forehead to yours.

You could feel your cheek grow warm under his touch. You giggled, breaking eye contact and turning away. "C'mon, eyes right here. I wanna see your pretty face when you finish on me," Chris whispered, tilting your chin to face him again.

As if there were a magnet drawing you each closer to one another, the space between your lips and his started to close in on itself. He moaned into your mouth, his breath mixing with yours. The sloppy sound of you two kissing filled the room, complimented by skin slapping against skin as Chris sped up his thrusts.

Chris broke away from the kiss, feeling you start to tremble beneath him. "That's it. C'mon," he cooed, his gaze locked onto your blissed out expression. You could feel the knot forming in your core, threatening to snap any second now. "Be a good girl and finish for me," he grunted, his own finish line approaching.

"Chris.." His name slipped from your lips as more of a breathy whisper. You came unraveled, your pussy pulsating around him, moans and profanities streaming from your throat as your climax was ripped from you.

Chris continued bucking his hips forward at an unwavering pace, his fingertips digging into the top of your thigh. He fucked you steadily through your orgasm and the aftershocks, chasing his own. He stared down at the complete mess you were beneath him, admiring how beautiful you looked right after finishing.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned you, his facial expression saturated with lust and pleasure, his eyebrows pinched together and his eyes locked on yours. You could feel him starting to twitch inside of you, teetering on the point of no return.

He pulled out at the last second, ropes of cum squirting onto your lower stomach and your pussy. He let out a satisfied sigh before collapsing beside you, his cheeks flushed and sweat dropping down the sides of his face. He turned to face you, a smile spread across his lip, still clearly out of breath but trying to muster up enough strength to tease you one last time.

"So. Do I do it better than girls do?" Chris chuckled, grabbing a towel and cleaning the evidence of what he's just done to you off of your skin. You blushed, your chest rising and falling as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Better than the ones I've been with, yeah," you admitted breathlessly.

"What about the other guys you've been with?" Chris asked, narrowing his gaze.

"Okay, fine. Yeah, better than them, too. Happy?" You shot back, rolling your eyes and trying to hold back a smirk.

Chris climbed to his feet, unable to control the fact that your comment went straight to his head. "That's what I thought," he responded, wandering over to his closet to grab a change of clothes.

"You know, I would have liked more foreplay, though," you admitted.

"More foreplay, huh?" He asked, glancing back at you and giving you a lustful grin. "Noted. I'll do that next time."

Your heart fluttered at the promise of a next time.

You threw your legs over the side of his bed, glancing down at the wet spot the two of you left behind on the bed. You blushed, reaching for your towel and draping it around your body as you started to head out of the room. "I'm gonna go change," you told Chris.

"Good luck," he mumbled.

You glanced over your shoulder, giving him a suspicious look as you stepped out into the hallway. You walked a few doors down and entered Nick's room, pausing when you saw that your bag was left unzipped. You made your way over, kneeled on the carpet, and started rifling through its contents in search of your change of clothes.

Of course, Chris was messing with you. You just knew he had something to do with this.

"Chris!" You shouted, getting up from the ground and heading towards the bathroom. You peeked in there for the outfit you'd worn the night before, which, of course, was also missing.

"Chris!" You exclaimed again after he didn't answer the first time. You marched down the hall and back into his bedroom. "What did you do with my clothes?" You asked accusingly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Why do you assume I have them?" He snorted from his gaming chair, his headset already on. "Because they're not where I left them, and you're the only other person here," you retorted, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

"Guess you'd better start looking for them because all you have to wear is that towel until you find them," he smirked, glancing up at you from his laptop.

"Ugh!" You stomped, growing impatient. "I'm serious. Where are they, Chris?" You hissed.

"I'm serious - you'd better start lookin' for them, because I'm not tellin'. You're gonna walk around in that little towel of yours until you find them," he repeated, giving you a sharp look.

He had done this on purpose - hidden your clothes throughout the house. He wanted you like this. He wanted you vulnerable and desperate, in nothing but a flimsy towel while you took part in his little demented scavenger hunt.

The only saving grace was that the house was much warmer than it was when you'd first gotten up, so being in a towel wasn't completely uncomfortable despite how exposed you felt. You rolled your eyes one last time before you left the room again.

You shuffled downstairs, rifling through the pantry for something to eat while you silently asked yourself, if you were Chris, where would you hide someone's clothes? You made yourself another cup of coffee, holding your towel closed with one hand.

You figured you'd either find them or he'd give them back to you before his brothers got home. Surely, he wouldn't leave you stranded in a towel for Nick and Matt to come home to - right?

633 notes · View notes

asmine · 2 months ago

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ 💌 everything but goodbye . . . c.s

in which . . . you can’t help but keep living in denial

warnings . . . grief, loss, hallucinations due to trauma, heavy and emotional distress & angst, death of a partner, mentions of a car crash, mental health struggles, slight panic attack, no happy ending, plot twist. please read with discretion and remember this is only fiction. i am in absolutely no way romanticizing any of these topics, this is simply for writing purposes, please scroll if you are uncomfortable.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

you don’t remember the first time he came back, only that one day you were alone, and the next, chris was there. he’d always been gentle with you. hands warm, voice quieter than usual. you thought it was because of how broken you were, because of the panic attacks, the way you woke up crying without knowing why, the long silences where your chest ached and your heart pounded and you couldn’t breathe.

but chris never made you feel ashamed. he’d stroke your hair, press kisses to your knuckles. whisper, “it’s okay. i’ve got you.” and you believed him, you always do. even when you couldn’t remember the last time he texted you first. even when his calls never showed up in your logs.

you told yourself, grief messes with time. trauma makes memory fuzzy. maybe you’re just healing slowly. he was here now. that’s what mattered.

every day, you woke up just after sunrise and found his hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. he always left before you opened your eyes, something about “early meetings,” but his scent lingered on your pillow. sometimes he’d show up at night, knocking softly, eyes tired, rain dripping from his hair.

you never asked questions. you were just so glad he kept coming back to you. you have a box of keepsakes you don’t open anymore. photos. love notes. polaroids of the two of you from that summer in hawaii, your legs over his lap, sand in your hair, sunburn on his nose.

you don’t open the box because it hurts. but more than that, you don’t open it because you don’t need to. because he’s still here.

the day everything unravels, you wake up with a strange feeling in your chest. like static. like something important is shifting, and your body knows before your mind catches up. it’s storming outside. thunder rolls low and heavy, and the windows rattle with wind. you wrap yourself in a blanket and pad into the kitchen, hoping chris left a note or a cup of coffee warming in the pot.

there’s nothing. your stomach sinks.

you try calling him, something you haven’t done in a while, because he always just…shows up. but the number doesn’t ring. disconnected. you frown, try again. same thing.

you check his socials. haven’t been updated in almost a year.

weird.

your fingers tremble as you open the box you swore you’d never touch again.

inside, everything’s just as you left it, except now you’re seeing it like it’s brand new. a photo, creased down the middle. chris’s handwriting on the back.

our last beach trip. best weekend of my life.

you turn it over. you’re in his arms. his lips on your cheek. but there’s a date written in the corner. almost a year ago.

almost exactly the same week the dreams started. no. you flip through the stack. ticket stubs. a dried flower from the bouquet he gave you on your birthday. a ripped envelope.

and then, at the very bottom, a folded piece of paper you don’t remember ever seeing before. it has your name on it. in his handwriting.

hey love,

i’m writing this because sometimes words spoken aren’t enough. sometimes, life feels too heavy, too unpredictable. i don’t know if i’ll get to say all of this out loud again, so here it is

you are everything. every quiet moment, every laugh we shared, they’re all pieces of my heart.

if tonight is the last time i get to come home to you, please don’t carry any blame.

this isn’t on you. it’s on fate, on chance, on something neither of us could control.

promise me you’ll keep fighting, keep living in color, for the both of us.

i’ll be watching, in every breeze, every shadow that dances with you.

and i’ll be loving you, forever.

so don’t give up on yourself. don’t give up on us.

please.

all my love,

chris.

your vision blurs. your whole body goes cold.

you drop the letter.

and then it all comes back at once.

the sirens.

the hospital call.

his car getting flipped over, all because the rain was too heavy, he went off the road. the letter…he had a feeling of what was going to happen. he knew, his gut told him to write that letter. and that’s why he gave you an extra long hug, and deeper kiss before he left. he only wrote the letter just in case he didn’t come back, little did you both know, he didn’t come back.

all because he was in a rush, picking up flowers for you because you were upset that day. the moment doctors pulled you into a sterile room with shaking hands and quiet eyes and said, “we’re so sorry…we did the best we could..”

you fell apart. and then…you forgot. you forced yourself to forget. and your mind, aching for him, started stitching together pieces of what used to be. it pulled his voice from voicemails. it built his silhouette out of shadows and old clothes. it conjured the ghost of a boy who’d never let you cry alone.

you didn’t heal. you hallucinated love.

and now, now that you remember, he’s gone. really gone. no more footsteps in the hallway. no more kisses to your shoulder. no more “i’ll be back soon.” just silence. you sit on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, as the storm crashes against the windows. and for the first time in almost a year, you truly cry for him.

not a ghost. not a dream. just the boy you loved. and lost. you sit up, frantically shaking your head, dusting yourself off. no no no, what are you thinking!? he’s not gone, he’s still here, obviously.

right…?

💌: i was afraid to post this

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