#ᯓ꒰asks꒱

[sturnioz]

shy!reader getting fucked by chris so good that she gets caught up and let’s something dirty slip out of her mouth. fratboy!chris is surprised but INSANELY into it and proud to say the least.😮‍💨

"thaaats it — fuckin' take it." chris grunts from above, relishing in the sounds of your broken cries and whines as he fucks you against his bed, the wooden frame rocking against the floor.

your bodies are pressed together, sweaty and sticky, and your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your fingernails digging into his back, creating small, red indents.

he's hitting all the spots deep within, causing you to squeeze around him as more pathetic noises tumble from your lips. chris hisses at the tightness of your cunt, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he picks up his pace, the wet, squelching noises of your cunt making you feel a little embarrassed — but its nothing you haven't heard before, not with him.

its when his head drops down to your neck, his lips nipping at your skin that the words resting on the tip of your tongue come spilling out;

"you fuh... fuck me s'good."

chris stills above you, and it takes a few moments for your brain to fully register what you just said, and the embarrassment hits you ten times harder than before, immediately squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face as chris leans up, repositioning himself to sit up between your legs.

you hate how quiet it is between you both now — apart from chris' laboured breaths. you peek through your fingers to see chris staring down at you with a surprised look sketched on his face, and his head slowly tilts to the side, squinting his eyes as his hands squeeze your hips.

"yeah?" he hums his first words, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. "do i fuck you that good? can't get enough of this fuckin' dick? s'that right?"

you whine softly, bottom lip formed into a pout as you weakly whack his arm. "chris.."

"heard you, bun — heard you loud 'n fuckin' clear," chris grins, moving his hand to press down firmly on your stomach, rolling his hips forward, feeling his cock move beneath the skin and you gasp. "didn't uh... didn't think you would say some shit like that, y'know? ever. but... i'm into it. don't stop on my account, yeah? let it alll out f'me. know you can now."

[sturnioz]

wait pls blurb of bun grinding on chris’ lap when she’s on her period. i do it with my bf 10/10 honestly

your face scrunches up, focussing on the gentle roll of your hips over the bulge in chris’ boxers, trying your best to relieve the cramps that settle in the pit of your tummy.

chris leans back against his headboard, one hand holding a joint between his fingers while the other hand rests on your plump bottom, squeezing the covered flesh as he bucks up against your panty-clad pussy.

the friction against your sensitive clit sends jolts of pleasure through you, momentarily distracting you from the subtle agony of your cramps—muffled moans escaping your lips as you ground your hips faster.

“there we go…” chris drawls, taking a hit of his joint as he watches you move through hooded lids, his lips curling into a smirk as smoke blows out in long tendrils. “feels good, yeah? none of that whinin’ ‘n complainin’ anymore. all you needed was to rub that greedy pussy against me—”

“stop…” you whine softly, your cheeks burning in embarrassment at his words as your head drops down, lips parting with a gasp as you watch yourself roll against him—seeing his cock strain in his boxers, the tip nudging against your clit with each movement.

“stop?” chris hums as he immediately grabs your ass in a tight grip, stopping all movements. your eyes widen as they flit up to meet his gaze, filled with desperation and need. “want to stop, bun?”

“n-no.. no—that’s not what i meant!” you ramble, your hands gliding up his chest to grab at his shirt, fisting the material as you shake your head repeatedly. “please.. please let me move.”

“say it again, bun,” chris smirks, putting his joint in a ashtray resting on his bedside table before his other hand grabs your hip, pressing his thumb to your flesh. “beg me.”

divider credits. @issysh3ll

[sturnioz]

i feel like chris gets almost taken aback when bun is the one initiating heavy…

like i can just picture her a little tipsy bc kitty said she deserved the break for acing her finals or something and she’s giving chris the eyes and he’s like tf…. but he just lets her go to see what the hell she does and she’s like caressing him every chance she gets and he’ll catch her squeezing her thighs or rubbing her legs tg when he glares at her for touching him…..

like she wants him BAAAAAAAAD and for once he doesn’t know what to do w all of that so when they’re finally in bed he cums way faster than normal bc she’s not being shy at all for once… like it’s her who is grabbing his hand n bringing it over her panties so he can feel how warm and wet she is for him and he’s all like “shit, bun…” immediately hard as a rock

she’s whining and softly touching herself while he’s taking his clothes off bc she’s so impatient n he can’t believe this is the same shy girl he’s been fucking for all these weeks/months .. WHEW give it to me now !

oh ok. oh.

chris is in his own world as he does his usual business for the night: sliding pills of varying colours into waiting hands, passing pre-rolls, and thumbing through dollar bills. he counts silently, each number ticking off in his hand, making sure he's been paid in full.

he's already in a foul mood, so the thought of possibility being underpaid might actually make him crash out.

he doesn't even notice you at first. not until you flop down beside him, the movement jarring enough to grab a little bit of his attention.

but his body stiffens when he feels your chin brush against his shoulder, and he leans back sharply, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your expression—lips parted in a sluggish smile, and that obvious tipsy glaze in your eyes.

chris opens his mouth to speak, ready to lay into you and snap at you for drinking too much (and for accepting kitty's drinks), but he stops himself, his brows knitting together as he notices the way you're looking at him.

your eyes are half-lidded and glossy, wispy lashes flattering as if you're fighting to keep them open. a quiet giggle escapes your lips as your hand drifts to rest on his thigh, and it lingers there, warm and heavy, before your fingers squeeze gently.

chris grunts, low and annoyed, his jaw tightening. he glares down at your hand, then back up to meet your eyes, but he doesn't push you away.

not yet.

you don't seem to care or notice, which is rare for chris to witness, and you inch closer, your body tilting toward him as you continue to squeeze his thigh.

you're too close—too fucking close for him and he hates it.

and yet, he still doesn't stop you.

maybe it's his curiosity preventing him from doing so. maybe it's because he's never seen you like this before, so needy with your touches, and he even catches the way you rub your thighs together as he continues glaring at you for touching him. (are you liking him glare at you? what the fuck?)

whatever it is, he stays still, his body tense and his glare unwavering, watching you carefully is if waiting for you to cross some line for him to shut you down and put you in your place.

chris doesn't really know what to make of all of this, and that alone is enough to piss him off.

it when the party is over and you're both finally alone in his room that he's about to snap, to scold you for real this time for being all touchy feeling with him unprovoked, but the words get caught in the back of his throat as he hears you whine and grab his hand.

he goes to yank himself out of your grip until you guide his hand beneath your skirt to press over your panties, and fuck, he feels it—how warm and wet the fabric is, sticky with your arousal.

his jaw is locked, and he watches with wide eyes as you mewl drunkenly, rolling your hips over his hand with a slur of his name, needy and desperate.

"shit, bun..." chris murmurs softly, completely taken aback, and he feels his cock chub up in his jeans, straining so painfully against the material that he needs to take them off.

he's already yanking your underwear down and throwing you on the bed ready for him, and he takes off his clothing, piece by piece, fumbling with the button on his jeans as he catches you touching yourself—slipping your fingers through your glistening puffy folds to circle your hole, grinding your clit against your palm.

"what the fuck..." he can't help but curse at the sight, struggling to believe that this is the shy girl he's been fucking all this time.

he's used to that shy girl—the one that gets too shy and whiney to part her legs for him to shove his head in between for a taste, the one that struggles to meet his eyes sometimes unless he demands for it, the one that always waits for him to make the first move to initiate sex.

for the first time in a long time, chris is embarrassed.

not because of the way you're reacting, no, despite being confused as fuck, he finds it a little hot, seeing you being so desperate and in need of him without him having to make you use your words.

it's because of his performance.

he's always prided himself in holding back, and even when he does cum fast, it's always at a reasonable time.

but to slip his cock inside of you, to bury himself to the hilt of your gushing cunt from behind and to hear the squelch between your thighs along with the noises you make, and the way you rut yourself back against him, he cums.

so quick.

so fast.

filling you up with long, rapid spurts.

chris stills above you, his eyes comically wide, his fingers twisting in the pillows as his gaze drifts down your back to your ass that ripples against him with your own needy thrusts, completely unknowing, too lost in your own desperate need.

he sees the creamy rings forming around his base, his own cum dripping down his balls and making a mess on the sheets below.

what. the. fuck.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

[sturnioz]

so what about chris edging bun or like..bun accidentally edging chris because everybodys home and shes scared of getting caught so she’ll just stop right before he cums and he gets all pissed off.

you're whining softly, your eyebrows furrowed as you roll your hips down on chris' cock, your hands splayed across his chest and gripping the shirt he's forgotten to take off to ground yourself, the pleasure building up in your tummy with each deep stroke against your slick walls.

chris grunts below you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth with his head on his pillow, hands firmly on your ass to grab at the plush flesh, his muscles bulging in his shirt as he pulls you, controlling your movements as you meekly ride him — even though he feels his balls draw up tight, his cock pulsing as he nears closer and closer and...

but you stop again, heart thumping rapidly in your chest as you peer over your shoulder with wide, anxious eyes, hearing voices outside the door as the frat brothers roam the hallways—talking among themselves and laughing.

"bun," chris hisses through his teeth, and you quickly turn your head back around to look at him, blinking down at him as he looks at you through his lashes, glaring, his jaw tense and nostrils flaring. "what—what you doin' huh? what are you doin'? you tryin' to make me pissed off? 'cos it's fuckin' workin'."

"i'm... they might hear, and—"

"i don't care, kid. m'tryin' to fuckin' nut, like—" you let out a surprised yelp when chris grabs your arm and yanks you down, your face shoved into his neck as he adjusts his grip on you, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into your pussy, causing you to squeal loudly in his ears, completely forgetting about the others in the house.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris having an explicit polaroid photo of shy!reader without her face in it (just her ass in a thong or something) in his wallet and it falls out when he’s going to count money or something and she sees it and forgets that it’s her so she gets all pouty about it and he’s like “that’s literally fuckin you kid - in those pretty black panties that i bought you? from that night you were begging f’me to keep going until you couldn’t even speak? yeaaaaaaah - that’s you”

you're exhausted, your eyelids heavy from the frat party that just wrapped up, the sounds of laughter and thumping music still ringing in your ears.

as the last stragglers begin to drunkenly shuffle out the door, you find yourself slumping against chris' side, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, barely keeping your eyes open as you tiredly blink, watching him count his money.

his eyebrows furrow tightly, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration — the rustling of cash filling the air, mingling with the sounds of frat brothers dragging their feet across creaky floorboards. some collect empty beer bottles and scattered plastic cups that litter the ground, while others grumble and moan about going to bed, opting to clean up the mess in the morning.

you bring your tired gaze back to chris' hands when you feel him shift. he reaches into his jeans, pulling out his wallet to shove the crumpled dollar bills inside, but suddenly, something slips out and flutters to the floor, catching your attention.

your head lifts off his shoulder, feeling a lot more awake now as you lean down to inspect the polaroid picture that has fallen. your heart sinks as you see the image — a picture of a woman's ass, clad in a black lacy thong.

the sight makes your stomach twist and a frown spreads across your face, instinctively creating a distance between you, shifting away from him.

chris' head turns at your sudden movement, his eyebrow raising as he bends to retrieve the polaroid. "why you givin' me that face?"

"why do you have something like that?" the words escape your lips before you can stop them, and you hate how hurt your voice sounds.

the sight of him holding a picture like that in his wallet twists something deep inside you. who is she? is she someone you know? someone you don't know? why is that in his wallet?

so many questions flood your mind, and you feel your throat tighten as chris suddenly snorts, giving you an incredulous look.

"that... that's literally fuckin' you, kid. are you dumb?" chris tells you, and you immediately recoil, shock washes over you, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "i bought you these fuckin' panties — made you wear 'em the other night when you were beggin' f'me, remember?"

heat rushes to your face as the realisation sinks in, a mix of embarrassment and shyness flooding through your system, causing you to turn away from him to stare at the ground, unable to meet his gaze.

"yeaaaaaah... you remember," his knuckles knock lightly against your warm cheek, a touch that intensifies your flustered state. "that's you."

[sturnioz]

ok you def don’t have to answer or go along with this idea but… imagine like bun and kitty and whoever are all having a convo about faking orgasms and chris is there not really contributing just barely listening and kitty asks bun if she’s ever faked one and she just kinda timidly shrugs and tries to change the topic. well that catches his attention and later when they’re alone chris asks if she’s ever faked with him and she just sorta shrugs again. then he makes it his mission to make her cum as many times as possible.

"i faked it, like, once or twice," you hear bee admit to kitty one morning, her voice cutting through the quietness of the kitchen. you glance up from your cereal bowl, spoon halfway to your mouth, blinking at them both with little curiosity as bee continues. "sometimes i can't be bothered, y'know? like, just wrap it up already."

kitty lets out a soft laugh, her fingers curled around a steaming mug of coffee. she takes a sip before she nods in agreement. "it takes me longer to finish, and sometimes matt knows what he's doing but other times? i just need it to be over 'cos i'm not getting anything out of it."

you remain quiet as you watch them, slowly chewing on your cereal, unsure if you should talk or not. the thought of talking about your own sexual experiences makes your cheeks feel hot, and you don't really want to embarrass yourself so early in the morning.

kitty notices your silence, and she raises an eyebrow at you. "what about you, bun? ever faked it?"

the question aimed at you catches you completely off guard, and you almost choke on your cereal. you quickly swallow as your eyes dart toward chris, who's lounging on the couch in the living room.

"uh..." you stammer, struggling to find your words. instead, you opt for the safest response possible—a slow and noncommittal shrug.

kitty grins over the rim of her mug, "is that a yes, or a no?"

your cheeks burn hotter, and you quickly drop your gaze back to your cereal bowl, stirring the milk absently. desperate to change the subject, you quickly ask, "a-are you, um... are you both doing anything later? are you still going to the store?"

"OH!" bee gasps dramatically, smacking her palm against the counter as if you've just reminded her of something. she digs into the pocket of nate's oversized hoodie, pulling out her phone and unlocking it with rapid taps as she rambles about the list of things she needs to get that's in her notes app.

the weight on your chest lifts as the conversations shifts, grateful the attention is no longer on you. kitty joins bee in a discussion about running errands, and you take the opportunity to sneak a quick, cautious glance toward chris.

he's sitting sitting on the couch, manspreading, his face buried in his phone as he scrolls mindlessly. relief washes over you in waves, thankful that he wasn't listening in.

or so you think.

it's when you're in his room, rummaging through clothes in search for something to wear to join kitty and bee on their day, you hear the door click shut behind you.

you glance over your shoulder to see chris leaning against the doorframe, his eyes trained on you. he doesn't say anything at first, he just tosses his lighter onto the desk with a dull thud.

searching for something to wear to join kitty and bee on their day out, that you hear chris walk in, his eyes trained on you as he closes the door behind himself.

"have you?" he finally asks.

your brows knit together as you turn to face him fully, blinking in innocent confusion. "have i what?"

"faked it, kid."

the question hits you like a slap, and your face heats up instantly as the realisation sets in. when you thought he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings... he did hear.

your lips part as you try to come up with something—anything to say—but all that comes out is a jumble of stuttered words that make absolutely no sense. completely incoherent.

finally, you resort to the same answer you gave before—a slow shrug of your shoulders.

chris huffs out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head as he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightens as he keeps his eyes on you, his sharp gaze making pulse quicken.

"right," he mutters, his voice low and unreadable.

it all happens so fast—one moment you’re being stared at, and the next you're pressed against the bed with a sticky mess between your thighs.

you're gripping the bedsheets tightly between trembling fingers, a choked squeal leaving your drooling lips as his hips smack harshly against your ass he he fucks into you brutally, giving you what seems to be your third or fourth or fifth orgasm.

honestly, you have no idea. you've lost count.

"c-chris! mmph—i ca—ah!!" you're unable to form a coherent sentence, your body bouncing against the bed with each thrust, your thighs flailing as his grip on your hips tighten, pulling you back repeatedly against him, driving his cock further into your snug warmth.

"shruggin' your shoulders," he scoffs to himself with a shake of his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth as one of his hand dips around the front of your body, pressing his thumb against your sore, swollen clit. "y'funny if you think you can fake shit with me, bun."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

[sturnioz]

shy!reader saying shes gonna ride fratboy!matt and he thinks his dick but really she js rides his face 🫣🫣🫣

oh god oh god oh yum. note. dont forget this written piece is in the fratboy!matt x shy!reader universe. completely separate !!

"i wanna ride you.." is what you shyly whisper in matt's ear, clinging to his arm as you both lay in bed. your chin is resting on his shoulder, and you're blinking up at him with wispy lashes — a silent plea.

matt raises his eyebrow as he processes your words, and a grin spreads across his face as his hand moves from your waist to his lap, patting his thigh invitingly as he clearly assumes you mean to straddle him and sit on his cock.

your face heats up, your heart pounding at the misinterpretation as you mumble embarrassingly, "not.. not like that. i meant your face.."

it mortifies you how silly you must sound, especially when matt just blinks at you for a moment before he hums, his tongue rolling across his cheek. he shuffles further down the bed without a word, laying on his back with his head propped against the pillow, his eyes staring up at the ceiling before they flit to you.

"c'mon then, bun. hop on."

your cheeks continue to heat up as you awkwardly pull your panties down your legs, laying the dampened material to the side as you hesitantly straddle his chest, moving upwards to position yourself over his mouth.

matt's arms curl around your thighs as you slowly settle down on his face, a gasp fleeting past your lips when you feel his warm breath against your slick folds.

with a shaky exhale, you begin to rock your hips, grinding your pussy against matt's mouth as he parts his lips, allowing your clit to brush against his tongue.

you moan quietly at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure even as the embarrassment still lingers within, especially when you meet his gaze from between your thighs — but you start to forget when you feel his tongue flick repeatedly at your clit.

"good girl, bun. keep ridin' like that," you hear him murmur his muffled praises, and you mewl in response, keeping the same steady pace of your hips as matt's arms tighten around you, your inner walls clenching around nothing as you ground your pussy against his working mouth.

your head falls back, another moan slipping as your trembling hands reach down to tangle your fingers in matt's hair, holding him in place and he groans softly, his hands sliding up to cup your ass, squeezing the skin as he pulls you even harder against his face.

"m-matt.." you cry out, your thighs trembling as the pressure builds inside.

"i know, bun. i know.." matt croons, alternating between kisses and kitten licks to your sensitive skin, teetering closer and closer to your pending orgasm. "cum on my face, bun. wanna taste my sweet girl."

[sturnioz]

Maybe I’m crazy but I feel like fratboy!Chris would make shy!reader talk about her day while he fucks her, amused by how much she struggles to keep her thoughts in line

"right, right... 'n then what happened? huh?" chris' hands push at your thighs, spreading them apart further as he thrusts his hips forward, grinding himself against you in a way that makes you gasp loudly when you feel his cock press deeper inside. "tell me."

"i uh, i... i.." you struggle to form a coherent sentence, panting between moans as your hands fist at the sheets, head thrown back against the pillows. "ah.. i... i just.."

your mind is a jumbled mess, unable to focus on what had happened throughout the day as you squirm beneath him, your body jolting with each thrust of his hips. it's hard to conjure up words, especially when you feel his cock slide repeatedly between your gummy walls.

chris grins down at you, tilting his head to the side condescendingly as he sees you struggle, "c'mon. use y'words."

he angles his hips, grinding his pelvis against yours, rubbing against your clit as the tip of his cock hits that spot deep within that causes your legs to tremble and you whine loudly.

"i uh.. i-i stu-studied.." you manage to stammer out, your voice high-pitched and breathless, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

"and?" chris prompts, pulling back almost all the way before slamming back in, and a cry tumbles from your lips, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure zips down your spine.

"i.. i don't remember," you whimper, tossing your head side-to-side on the pillow as chris fucks into you, the sounds of your pussy squelching around his cock with each thrust echoes in your ears.

"yeah you do," chris laughs as your walls flutter around him involuntarily, squeezing him. "c'mon... supposed t'be fuckin' smart, kid — now look at you... droolin' over some dick, fuckin' dumb in the head."

you mewl pathetically, "chris..."

"m'not stoppin'," he drawls as his hand slides from your thigh to your sensitive clit, his thumb rubbing slow circles and you writher, choking on your moans. "gonna... gonna keep goin' until you finish tellin' me all about your day. m'feelin' generous."

[sturnioz]

bun cumming harder when fb!chris wraps his hand around her throat and he gets all cocky about it.... 😵‍💫

you're embarrassed by the noises you're making; the desperate whines and mewls that leave your lips blending in with the lewd slapping sounds of flesh meeting flesh as chris pounds into you from above, his grip tight on your hips to fuck into you harder—and faster.

your pussy squeezes around his cock that bullies your cervix, and you struggle to keep your dazed, glassy eyes open, your mouth falling slack when he wets his thumb with his tongue to rub your clit in circular motions.

"s'too... chriiiis..." you wail pathetically, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your arch your back, breathing laboured. "i can't.. i can't—ah.. ah!"

chris grips the back of your legs to pull your body down the bed closer to him, and the new angle allows his cock to slide deeper into your gummy walls, causing you to wail louder as you feel that knot in your stomach tighten.

you're on the verge of cumming, but you're taken aback when you feel chris' hand slide up your body, his fingers wrapping around your neck. you gasp for a moment, choke, and your head spins dizzily before the added pressure on your throat seems to intensify everything around you.

your body convulses, and clear liquid gushes from your spasming cunt as you cum around his cock with a choked cry of his name, soaking the sheets beneath you, and overwhelming tears spilling down your cheeks as your hips buck.

"fuuuuck, would y'look at that..." chris hisses through his teeth, his dark eyes flitting down to where your bodies are joined, burying himself to the hilt inside your fluttering walls. "shit. you like bein' choked, bun? huh? think this is the hardest you've fuckin' squirting f'me... all 'cos i wrapped my fingers around your throat. you like that?"

you're unable to form a coherent sentence, stuck by the mind-numbing pleasure that zaps through your veins, your body trembling. air creeps back into your lungs when chris loosens his grip on your neck, and you whine when he pats your hot cheek condescendingly.

"back t'me, kid, c'mon," he says, giving your cheek another tap, and you can just make out the cocky smirk spreading across his lips through your blurred vision. "hm... gonna have to do this more often if it makes you this fuckin' gone."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

[sturnioz]

blurb/fic where chris is making edibles and bun is over his shoulder being nosy/asking questions but he entertains it cause drugs are his pride and joy as he mindlessly responds???

-🌙

the rich smell of brownie batter is the first thing that grabs your attention the second you step into the frat house on a late wednesday afternoon, and you immediately follow the scent into the kitchen, scanning the area for the chocolatey treat until you spot chris.

he's hunched forward slightly, one palm pressed flat against the countertop while the other hand works a whisk diligently through the bowl of batter—a lot more calm and nonchalant than you have ever seen him before.

you step closer, your jacket slipping from your shoulders and your phone landing on the table as you make your way toward him. you're behind him now, peering over his shoulder with interest, seeing how the batter looks.

it's perfect—thick, smooth and gooey. your mouth waters at the sight, desperate for a taste, and without thinking, you reach out, aiming for the edge of the bowl to sneakily swipe some with your finger until a sharp sting snaps across the top of your hand.

"no," chris murmurs, his tone flat, barely even looking at you. "don't touch."

you flinch and pull your hand back quickly, cradling it against your chest with a frown. "i just... wanted to try it."

"well, you're not goin' to," he says bluntly, giving you a quick glance before looking back down at the bowl. "these are edibles, kid. s'not for you, yeah?"

the way he says it—like you're some child with sticky fingers and no-self control, much like some family members of yours—makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment and nose scrunch.

but instead of moving away, which you assumed he was hoping for, you stay in your spot, your curiosity outweighing all your other emotions as you peer down once again.

"so... you're making weed brownies?" you ask quietly, your head tilting to the side as you're unable to tear your gaze away from the gooey texture. "like, there's weed in there? the stuff you put in the bags?"

"it's cannabutter," he murmurs without looking up as he continues working. but when is response is met with silence, he pauses, turning his head just enough to glance at you to see the blank look on your face. he sighs, clarifying. "cannabis butter."

"ah." your lips part slightly in understanding as you nod, though you're still unsure. "do you buy it?"

chris lets out a slow, exasperated exhale as if he's forcing himself to muster the patience to deal with your questions right now. "you can, but i make it."

"how do you do that?" you press. you're too far into your nosiness to back off now, even as you catch the faintest twitch in chris' eyebrow.

"i uh," he stops whisking for a moment, the handle of the whisk clinking against the side of the bowl as he sets it down to scratch his cheek. "i measure the buds, grind 'em up. simmer it with the butter, nice 'n slow. then strain it 'cos nobody wants that lumpy shit."

you nod slowly, trying to absorb his explanation, though most of it does fly right over your head. you're no expert when it comes to working with cannabis, but one part sticks out to you—the one you're familiar with in your own baking life. "lumpy shit bad?"

he hums, replying flatly. "lumpy shit bad, yeah."

"how do you know how much to put in, though? is it hard to get right?"

"no," he scoffs softly, shaking his head. "jus' gotta know what you're doin'. and i know what i'm doin', alright? done it thousands of times already. can probably do this shit blindfolded if i want to."

"would you?" you ask, leaning in, a flicker of genuine interest lighting up your expression at the thought of seeing something like that.

but the look he gives you is blank—deadpan—the kind of look that makes your lips press together instantly, silencing yourself.

"shit," he drawls, picking up the whisk again and turning back to the bowl. "all these questions are a little cop-like. you gatherin' your information to rat me out, kid?"

"no," you answer, stifling a grin at his ridiculous accusation. for a moment, it's funny—his tone and choice of words. but as the weight of what he actually said sinks in, your amusement fades, replaced with a flicker of worry.

what if he actually thinks that?

you begin to take it too literally, and your expression shifts, leaning forward to get in his line of sight as you insist. "no, i'm not. i promise. i'm just curious, i swear—"

"i know," chris cuts off your rambling. he glances at you, blinking once, twice, before his lips curl in the most faintest of smirks. "it was a joke, bun."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

©STURNIOZ 𐔌 . all rights reserved.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader squirting on fratboy!chris face for the 1st time

you can feel the pressure build up in the pit of your belly, high-pitched moans leaving your lips as your chest rises and falls with heavy pants, head thrown back against the pillow. chris is between your legs, lips suckling at your clit messily with two fingers dipped inside your dripping pussy.

the wet, squelching sound coming from you has you heating with embarrassment, throwing an arm over your face as your hips pathetically rut against his face and hand, unable to stop your body from chasing the feeling.

chris grins against your pussy, the pace of his fingers increasing and you wail loudly, hips raising off the bed, legs trembling as the pressure if your belly becomes too much, and you can feel the unfamiliar liquid squirt out of you in waves.

chris groans loudly, his chest rumbling as he continues pumping in his fingers in and out of your sensitive cunt, still mouthing at your clit as you moan his name repeatedly, eyes squeezing shut as you drench his hand and mouth.

"chris!!" you cry out, body thrashing against the wet sheets. "s'too much!!! too much!!"

chris hums softly and pulls his fingers out from your pussy, sucking on them greedily as he climbs up your body. you can see his flushed cheeks, his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal and your own face gets hot, averting your gaze away from him and turning you head — only for him to grip your chin and bring your attention back to him.

"don't look away from me," chris drawls, tutting as he gently pats your cheek. "not when y'made a pretty little mess on m'face."

[sturnioz]

Bun standing on the table or counter to hang Xmas decorations and Chris holding her waist bc he doesn’t want her to fall but he’s complaining the whole time too

perched on your tiptoes on top of the kitchen counter, you feel the cool surface beneath your feet as you concentrate, your tongue poking out slightly as you carefully drape the green tinsel shimmering with tiny lights over the top of the cabinets, making sure that every piece is secure and won't fall down to ruin that festive idea you had in mind.

beside you, nate stands with a cardboard box in hand, filled to the brim with christmas decorations and he glances up at you expectantly, a goofy turkey hat sitting on his head as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, ready to follow your quiet instructions.

with a quick gesture towards the box, he immediately hands you a cluster of red bows, and you begin to clip them to the strands of tinsel, spacing them out evenly to your desire.

"y'should hang the mistletoe in 'ere too," nate suggests with a murmur as he pulls out a mistletoe branch from the box, holding it up like a trophy with a grin on his face. "right there, on the light. all danglin' 'n shit."

"mistletoe?" you repeat quietly, glancing over your shoulder to follow his gaze to the overhead light. "why?"

"do you know how many people stand in this kitchen? think about how funny that'll be."

you blink, thinking about it for a moment, and your lip twitches slightly. "but what happens if you stand under it with one of the other brothers?"

"i'll kiss the bros." he answers without missing a beat, and you giggle softly, shaking your head as you turn back to your decorating.

he tucks the mistletoe back into the box, and once you finish clipping the last red bow, you carefully navigate across the counter, reaching out for another piece of tinsel that nate holds out for you.

just then, a loud curse fills your ears, and you glance over to see chris rubbing his forehead, his expression grumpy after it collides with some hanging baubles you'd placed earlier in the day.

his tired eyes narrow when they land on you, and his brow furrows deep as he snaps, "fuck you doin'? get down."

"i'm decorating." comes your refusal, a frown settling on your face as chris trudges over, pushing nate aside who stumbles, almost dropping the cardboard box and the turkey hat on his head.

"you wanna break your neck or somethin'? get down, m'not playin' around, kid."

you shake your head a little stubbornly, determined to finish the kitchen just like you envisioned. there's no way you're leaving this room half-decorated.

turning back to the cabinets, you resume draping the tinsel over the empty spots, your focus unwavering. suddenly, you feel chris' hands slide up to your waist, his grip tight, and you brace yourself for him to yank you down — but instead, he stays there, keeping you still as you continue your work.

"you piss me off, y'know that? big time," chris grumbles under his breath, his thumbs digging into your flesh. "standin' on the fuckin' counter bare foot too—y'know how gross that is? we eat here, kid."

you frown at that, unable to stop yourself from muttering, "you've done worse on this counter—"

your retort is cut off as chris suddenly moves his hand and pinches your ass in warning, and the surprise causes you to wobble, your heart thrumming in your chest as you almost slip off the counter. if it weren't for his steady grip resuming on your waist, you would have toppled over completely, landing in a possible broken mess on the floor.

"careful," he drawls, his voice dripping with feigned concern, as if he wasn't the one who nearly sent you flying. you can hear the smirk in his tone too, and it makes your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "and watch your attitude, kid."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[sturnioz]

Bun whining until fb!chris holds her hand while fucking her silly 🫣

(can not get this though out of my head)

chris looms over you, his grip tight on your hips as heavy grunts leave his lips, pounding into you against his bed, his cock spearing deep into your puffy folds and stretching out your walls.

you let out a string of moans and whimpers, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and back arching as you feel every inch of him fill your guts, drool trickling down your chin as your mouth remains stuck open.

the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your high-pitched wails as chris pistons in and out of you, his hands tightening their grip on your hips to use as leverage, sending a shiver up your spine.

sweat glistens on chris' skin as he drives himself deeper inside you, hitting your cervix with each stroke, the squelching being made making your cheeks burn, and you whine at how easy it is for him to slide in and out of your pussy due to how wet you feel.

you inner walls squeeze around him, your tits bouncing with each thrust and you gasp when chris leans down to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping as he continues to pound into you.

your hands flail helplessly, unsure how to touch chris or yourself in the midst of the overwhelming sensations you're experiencing. but before you can even think, chris pins your wrists beside your head, pressing them firmly against the pillow and sliding his palm against yours, lacing his fingers through your own and gripping tightly as he continues to suck and nibble at your nipple, swirling and flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub.

your whines slowly morph into airy moans, turning breathy and needy as your body arches into his touch, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as you squeeze his hand, unable to keep your eyes open.

"ah... ah... chri—chris..." you mewl quietly, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. "i can't.. i can't ah.. ah—"

"shhh," chris growls lowly around your nipple, his eyes flitting up to meet your watery ones, the ache between your thighs intensifying as he continues his relentless pace, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "just take it, bun."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[sturnioz]

https://www.tumblr.com/sturnioz/781090491701903360/is-there-anything-specific-chris-does-that-bun

omg we need a blurb on this.. yk how she will take the lollipop from his mouth and suck on it…. chris’ fingers being sticky with something and her not being able to help herself and just bringing two of his fingers to her mouth :3

you're in a trance, watching chris fiddle around with the jello shots that are covering the kitchen counter, pouring the liquid into small little plastic cups to shove into the fridge for the weekend.

his hands are sticky—strawberry gelatine liquidized and dripping down his fingers messily, the sweet scent filling your nostrils. you're mouths watering badly, and you have half the mind to snatch the bowl to taste it for yourself.

you know you shouldn't, he'll get mad—they all would get mad.

having been doing this for the majority of the day, making sure they have double, maybe even triple, the amount of jello shots to satisfy everyone at the upcoming party... it'll be wrong of you to take a sneaky sip.

but you're eager, desperate even.

you've always had a sweet tooth, one that you struggle to contain. you're always stealing chris' lollipops that he uses for his 'molly jaw', and you've politely asked many frat brothers if you could have a piece of their candy or chocolate when they open the bag.

you can't be contained. it's a problem. a big one.

but truthfully, it's one that you have no issue with and have no reason to fix any time soon. you love sweet things, it makes you happy, it brings a smile to your face... which is why you're quick to grab chris' wrist when he goes to put his hands under the tap in the sink.

you're not even fully aware of what you're doing, and you don't really register that you have chris' index and middle finger in your mouth, swirling your tongue around, allowing yourself to taste the sweet flavour of strawberry with the most tiniest hint of vodka until chris' two fingers press down hard on your tongue, causing you to falter.

"really?" he grumbles, his eyes staring into yours as he scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching upward into an amused smirk. he tilts his head to the side, his gaze drifting toward your mouth before suddenly pushing his fingers further down your throat, causing you to gag.

you pull back in surprise, coughing and spluttering as you catch your breath—face growing hot as the frat brothers turn to face you with their eyebrow raised, glancing between you and chris.

they all wear knowing looks which causes you to become even more embarrassed than you already are, especially when chris reaches out toward you with his sticky fingers, his face deadpanned despite him wiggling his digits teasingly in front of your face.

"what? don't tell me you're all shy now?" a smirk slowly spreads across chris lips as he dips down to your eye level. "seemed fine suckin' on my fingers earlier, kid."

[sturnioz]

please write a fic where she finds them. please.

PANTY 'STEALING' THIEF.

you're rushing up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time as you bolt toward chris' bedroom. the summer heat clings to your skin, and all you can think about is changing into something more comfortable—something less suffocating—to join the girls, and some of the boys, in the backyard to relax.

you push open the door quickly and step inside, closing it with a soft click behind you for privacy. you drop your backpack onto the bed and immediately start rummaging through it, your fingers brushing past your things until you finally pull out the clothes you've been searching for; a pair of denim shorts and a pretty camisole with ruffled edges and a small ribbon tied at the front.

as you straighten up, your jeans now removed and denim shorts on, you grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it off and change, but something catches the corner of your eye. you spot a sliver of lace peeking out from the edge of chris' dresser drawer—barely noticeable, but impossible to miss with your curious eyes.

your brows knit together as you paus, still clutching the hem of your shirt as you step closer to the dress, your head tilted to the side as you try to figure out what it could possibly be.

but you're too curious and nosy to be left guessing, so you let go of your shirt to reach out and brush your fingers against the fabric, giving it a few gentle tugs before the lace slips free from the drawer's grip.

this... is yours?

you blink down at the lacy panties in your hands, your lips pursing in deep thought as you trace your thumb over the pattern. yes, you recognise this now. this is definitely yours. you remember kitty dragging you into that lingerie store and insisting that you buy it.

you don't remember leaving it here, though.

in fact, you thought you'd lost it entirely.

your gaze flits back to the drawer again, and with a new wave of genuine curiosity, you pull open the drawer fully. your face remains neutral for just a split second before your composure crumbles—your lips parting in surprise and eyes widening as you take in the sight, seeing more lacy lingerie tucked messily inside.

most of it is from chris, pieces that he had bought for you to wear for him during sex, others are bought from the cash in your own purse. and just like the pair in your hand, you figured you'd lost them somewhere in your own home.

but no, they've been here all along... hidden away?

you're too busy sifting through your lingerie to not hear the bedroom door creak open behind you. it's only when the loud thud of something heavy hitting the desk breaks the silence that your head snaps up in alarm—like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

chris is standing there beside his desk, his blank stare meeting your wide-eyed one, and for a moment, neither of you says a word. he's shirtless, his chest damp and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. a cap sits backwards snugly over his messy hair, and his baggy shorts hang low on his hips, revealing just enough to make your eyes stay focused on his upper body.

"the fuck you doin'?" he drawls finally, his tone flat and uninterested as he dips his hand into his pocket, fishing out his lighter and keys, tossing them careless onto his desk beside his phone. "why're you goin' through my shit?"

"your..." you trail off, tone uncertain as you blink at him. slowly, you lift the lace between your fingers, pointing at it as if to prove your point. "but this is mine?"

"yeah," he says simply, shrugging his shoulders. "what about it?"

"but why—this is—" you stammer, struggling with your words as you have a difficult time forming a coherent sentence. you take a deep breath, your eyebrow raising as you pry. "are you stealing my underwear?"

chris lets out a scoff, scratching the corner of his lips as his eyes lock onto yours, his expression unreadable. "stea—a'ight, bun."

"this is stealing!" you gape, still shocked by your recent discovery by finding amusement in the absurdity of it all. "you... you panty stealing thief!"

"panty stealin' thie—" chris cuts himself off, dragging a hand down his face as if you're exhausting him out already. he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a huff, clearly irritated by your choice of words. "you're bein' dramatic. you realise that, yeah?... panty stealin' thief— have you even noticed your shit gone?"

"well... no, but—"

"'kay," he interrupts, folding his arms across his chest. "'n have you even cared or bothered to fuckin' ask where it's gone?"

"...no."

he gives you a pointed look, one brow raised, as if to say 'case closed'. in his mind, he's just made a fool proof argument, but to you, it's ridiculous. you're a little dumbfounded by his logic, and a light giggle slips from your lips.

this situation is so silly that you can't help but laugh, "that's still stealing, chris."

"yeah? well i bought most of 'em," he replies with a lazy shrug, "m'just takin' my shit back."

you watch as he moves around his desk, pulling open those drawers to grab a few pre-made joints to take outside, and you purse your lips, genuine curiosity hitting you once again as you decide to probe further.

"why do you even have these anyway?" you ask, glancing down at the lacy fabric in your hand before looking back up at him. "what do you even do with them?"

chris raises a brow at your question, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he runs his tongue across his teeth, not even bothering to look at you fully as he answers, "y'know what i do with 'em, bun. use your big girl brain."

you use exactly that, sifting through your mind before your breath hitches, eyes widening as his words sink in. heat rushes up your check and burns your face, and you clutch the lace tighter in your hands as if it'll somehow protect you from the embarrassment you're currently feeling.

before you can find the courage to say anything, he's already pushing himself off the desk, re-pocketing his phone and lighter along with the joints as he glances at you.

"hurry up 'n get dressed," he says, tone shifting to something impatient. "kitty 'n bee wont stop fuckin' askin' where you're at downstairs."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris who lazily fingers shy!reader because he’s sick of her rolling in the bed whenever she can’t sleep lowkey whispering in her ear how annoying she is when she gets needy

"will you stop fuckin' movin'?" chris grumbles from his side of the bed tiredly, feeling you shift restlessly beside him, unable to calm your racing thoughts and settle into sleep as you had intended.

a frown tugs at your lips, and you murmur a quiet apology, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in your cheeks as chris buries his head deeper into the pillows, his bare back rising and falling calmly with each breath.

stealing a glance at him, you take in the softness of his features as he tries to drift back to sleep; stands of curly hair falls across his forehead, framing his face, while his lips rest in a slight pout — lips that make your heart race with a need you struggle to suppress. the thought of kissing him flits through your mind, warmth pooling in your stomach and sending an ache between your thighs.

you shift again, trying to find a comfortable position, but the ache only intensifies with each subtle rub of your thighs, leaving you feeling frustrated, and with each look you glance his way, the feeling swells, making it harder for you to focus on anything else.

a strangled noise leaves your lips as you feel your nipples hardening under the thin fabric of your shirt, the heat between your legs coming unbearable to the point that your hand wanders down towards your pussy.

"are you.. are you serious?" you jump at the sound of chris' scoff, your head snapping to the side to find him propped up on his elbows, his brows furrowed in disbelief. "you — you're like this 'cos you're fuckin' needy?"

your heart thumps rapidly, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as his words hit like a harsh splash of cold water. "i-i.." the words stumble from your lips, trapped by the sudden heat flooding to your cheeks. you quickly avert your gaze, unable to look at him. "i'm sorry, i just—"

"yeah, yeah, whatever," chris drawls as he shifts on the bed, his arm reaching out to lay his palm across your stomach, before he moves south, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

your lips part in surprise with a soft whimper, your body arching into his touch as you feel his fingers creep closer to your pussy, stroking your clit in slow, deliberate circles. your hips buck up, gripping the bedsheets as your walls clench tightly around nothing, feeling a pool of wetness between your legs, soaking through the material of your panties.

"you're annoyin', y'know.." chris murmurs, his gaze glued to the side of your face as his thumb presses firmly against your clit while his two fingers probe teasingly at your entrance. "it's 1am.. 'n here you are, all fuckin' needy — desperate t'be touched, yeah? s'all you want?"

your head falls back against the pillow, your breath caught in your throat as chris' fingers slide inside your heat, stretching you open before pumping in and out lazily, curling them to hit that sweet, spongy spot that has your hips instinctively rocking against his hand.

"yeah, look at you.." chris tuts quietly, adjusting his head on the pillow, his eyes flitting down to where his hand his buried inside your panties, watching your hips move. "s'kinda pathetic, kid."

you moan loudly as chris increases the pace of his fingers subtly, hearing the sounds of your wet cunt squelching around him has your cheeks and neck burning with heat, and your hand flies down to grasp at his wrist in hopes to speed up his movements to drive you closer and closer to the release you've been craving.

"let go of me," chris demands and you whimper softly, glancing at him through your hazy vision, seeing a smug grin spreading across his lips. "you woke me up, s'now you get to lay here 'n take what i give you.. slowly."