#chris

[tulipsimss]

Generation 9🏝️

[whor3ing]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐖? | 𝐂.𝐁 , 𝐂.𝐒 & 𝐌.𝐒 ― 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌, 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ COMING DOWN , THE WEEKND

colby brock, chris sturniolo & matt sturniolo x ghost!reader

WARNINGS : smut, three-man, oral (fem & male receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, praise, completely reader focused worship, (no weird incest shit or contact between the boys ofc ew!) , usage of slut

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+

It starts like it always does—with boots on cracked linoleum, flashlights sweeping over peeling wallpaper, and laughter too loud for a place that remembers suffering.

But this time, the air feels different.

You’re hovering in the corner of the old surgical wing, the same place your body once failed you, your soul never quite able to leave.

You’ve watched dozens pass through.

Paranormal investigators. Skeptics. Ghost hunters.

None of them ever really saw you.

Until now.

Chris steps into the room first. He slows almost immediately, brows drawing tight as his flashlight flickers. His breath hitches.

“There’s something here,” he mutters, but it’s not with fear. It’s reverence.

You move toward him, out of habit more than hope. Your energy brushes his shoulder—and he turns to you like he felt it.

“Holy shit…” His flashlight clatters to the ground.

Because he sees you. Really sees you. His mouth parts, chest rising and falling in stuttered awe.

Behind him, Matt and Colby file in, mid-laugh—until Matt looks where Chris is staring.

“Wait,” Matt whispers. “Is that—?”

“I see her too,” Colby breathes, stunned. “That’s not… that’s not a trick.”

You float closer, cautious, trembling at the edges. Three pairs of eyes on you. Three living bodies. Three heartbeats you haven’t felt in a hundred years—and now you’re surrounded by them.

Chris lifts a hand. His fingers shake as they reach for you, expecting air.

But you let him touch.

When his fingertips meet your skin, his eyes widen with a desperate sound caught in his throat.

“She’s warm,” he says, almost dazed. “She’s fuckin' warm.”

You shudder. The sensation—contact—rushes through you like lightning in water.

“Can you feel this?” Matt asks, stepping in close. His hands glide over your hips like he’s handling something sacred—fragile, forbidden.

His breath is warm against your cheek, and when your eyes meet, there’s reverence there. Awe.

You nod.

It’s not just sensation—it’s need. You have to feel it.

Because ghosts aren’t supposed to feel this much.

Because ever since your body gave out in this room, you’ve been trapped in the dull hum between dimensions. Cold. Numb. Existing without living. Until now.

And Colby? Colby just watches. That hungry, fascinated look like he’s not just seeing you—he’s studying you. Like you’re the one variable in a case that’s never added up.

“She’s responding to touch,” he says more to himself than to them. “Heart rate’s increasing. Expression shift. Eye dilation. You want us.”

It’s not a question.

You don’t remember the last time you wanted anything.

The last time you felt heat curling in your gut like smoke, your thighs aching, a slick pulse building between your legs like your body remembers what to crave—even in death.

Chris swears softly, almost reverently. “Fuck,” he breathes, stepping forward and cupping your face. His thumb brushes your cheekbone, grounding you. “You’re here. I can feel you.”

His lips crash into yours, and it’s not gentle—it’s a collision of everything you’ve been aching for. His tongue teases your lower lip before plunging into your mouth, tasting you, breathing you in, as though you need to be cared for properly.

Matt groans, voice thick with lust and something else—longing, maybe—and drops to his knees in front of you.

His warm palms trail up your thighs, thumbs pressing into the crease where hip meets pelvis. “She’s already trembling,” he says, awe in his voice. “Like she’s overheating.”

“She is,” Colby murmurs from behind the camera, still recording. Not for content—for research.

For answers. “Residual energy spikes with tactile stimulation. But—Jesus—she’s glowing.” His voice softens, loses its clinical edge. “She’s beautiful.”

Your breath catches when Matt’s lips brush your inner thigh, right over the place where your blood once ran warm. Now, it's almost like you’re buzzing. Alive.

He mouths higher, nosing the hem of the skirt you’re trapped in from the moment you died, like lifting it will release something ancient.

And maybe it will.

“Let us take care of you,” Chris whispers against your cheek, hand sliding down your neck, fingers trailing the slope of your spine like he’s tracing your outline to memory. “All of us. You need this, don’t you?”

You do. God, you do.

It’s not just about touch—it’s healing. Their hands ground you. Their mouths ignite something buried in your spirit.

You’ve been invisible, unfelt, forgotten for years. But now? Now you’re real to them. You’re tangible.

Colby sets the camera aside. His hands are warm when they cradle your face. He’s not as frantic as the others—he’s controlled, deliberate. “I need to see how far it goes,” he murmurs, and there’s genuine care in his voice. “How much you can take.”

You whimper, thighs clenching. “As much as you’ll give me.”

Matt lets out a broken sound. “Fuck, baby…”

He pushes your legs apart gently, reverently. Then his mouth is there—lips wrapping around your clit, tongue stroking you with soft, slow flicks that turn desperate in seconds.

Your back arches, arms trembling, pulse fluttering like a bird trapped in your ribs.

“Look at her,” Chris murmurs, stepping back so Colby can drop beside Matt. “Look how perfect she looks like this.”

Colby’s fingers ghost over your stomach, your hips, your chest—curious, reverent. “She’s sensitive… Her skin—fuck, it’s like touching lightning.” Then lower. “Tell me if you need more,” he whispers, sliding two fingers between your legs while Matt’s tongue still circles your clit.

You cry out, head falling back against the wall. Chris catches you. He’s behind you now, lips grazing your neck. “That’s it. Let them make you feel it. You deserve to feel all of it, sweetheart, that's fuckin' right.”

You’ve never felt this much. Not even alive.

You moan, high and helpless, and Colby catches your face between his hands. “Pretty thing,” he says, voice husky. “You sound so damn good when you fall apart, so fuckin' special.”

His cock is already hard when he pulls it free, flushed and leaking at the tip. He strokes it slowly as he watches you melt under Matt’s tongue.

“I want her mouth,” he says, not even asking—knowing.

Chris turns your body gently, guiding you to your knees like you’re fragile glass. Your knees hit cracked tile, but you don’t feel it—not when Colby’s cock is right in front of your lips, not when Matt lays down beneath your body, his tongue is still inside you, lapping at your pretty cunt.

You open your mouth without hesitation and Colby groans the second you wrap your lips around him, head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut. “That’s it. Just like that. Take me, baby, suck my fuckin' cock for me—mmmh good fuckin' slut."

His hands slide into your hair, holding your head still while he gently rocks into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, tongue swirling beneath his shaft as your moans vibrate around him.

Behind you, Matt doesn’t slow. His tongue is relentless—circling your clit, pushing inside you, coaxing sounds from your throat you didn’t know you could make.

“Look at her,” Chris murmurs. “Taking cock in her mouth and tongue in her cunt like she was made for this.”

You cry out around Colby’s cock, the sound messy, muffled, obscene. Spit drips from your lips, down your chin, over your chest. You can’t stop trembling.

“You’re shaking,” Matt murmurs, breathless, pulling away from your pussy for just a second. “You gonna come on my tongue already?”

You nod—frantic, overwhelmed.

Colby curses and pulls out of your mouth, fisting and pumping his cock himself, so fast as he watches. “Come for him. Come with my cum on your tongue.”

You do. Hard.

It rips through you, violent and pure.

Your thighs quake as Matt groans against your cunt, dragging it out with slow licks while Colby paints your mouth and chin with hot, thick ropes of his warm cum.

You’re sobbing by the end of it—head swimming, mouth open, body thrumming with overstimulated heat.

Chris catches you before you fall, lifting you effortlessly into his lap. His cock presses against your soaked entrance, hot and heavy.

“Still with us, baby?” he murmurs, brushing hair out of your eyes.

You nod, dazed. “Please.”

Chris pushes inside you with a groan—deep and slow, stretching you open. You gasp at the pressure, the fullness, the way he fills every inch.

“You’re so warm, how are you so fucking warm for us?” he breathes, kissing your temple. “Pussy's so perfect. So fucking tight.”

You cry out as he starts to move—long thrusts that make your whole body jolt in his arms.

And before you know it, Matt is beside you again, kissing your shoulder, your jaw, murmuring soft praise.

“You’re doing so good, such a pretty fucking girl for us,” he says, hand resting over your throat. “Taking him so deep, baby. We’re not done yet.”

Chris fucks you with rhythm, with purpose—each snap of his hips forcing his cock deeper, brushing against that sensitive spot inside that makes your eyes just fucking roll back.

You’re close—so close again, already—your body fluttering around Chris’s cock.

“Gonna come for me, pretty ghost?” he grits, one hand gripping your ass tight. “Let me feel you pulse on my cock. Let me fill you.”

You shatter.

Your second orgasm crashes through you like a storm. You scream, legs locking around Chris’s waist as he fucks you through it, chasing his own high.

He comes with a strangled moan, hips jerking, cock pulsing deep inside you as he fills you with his sticky come. You feel it. All of it.

You feel the way his cock pushes against your cervix as he finishes, his come covering your walls and soaking your pussy even more.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers against your skin.

You can’t think. Can’t breathe. You’re limp, boneless.

And then Matt lifts you again.

You cry out from the sensitivity, but he hushes you gently, cradling you against his chest, reminding you that it's all okay. “One more, baby. Just one.”

His fingers slide inside with ease, your pussy so fucking messy against Matt's fingers.

“So wet. So fucking wrecked.”'

He fucks you slow with his hands—luxurious, sensual, like he’s savoring you.

Each thrust makes you whimper. Your body is spent, but your cunt clenches around his large veiny fingers like it can’t let go.

“You’re a dream,” he whispers. “You’re everything, such a pretty fucking cunt taking my fingers like that..”

Within no time, you come again, your cunt spasming against Matt's soaked fingers as they relentlessly move in and out of you, sliding against every nerve of your soaked cunt, savoring every moment inside of your sopping pussy.

When it’s over, they don’t speak, they only hold you.

Chris pulls you into his lap, wrapping you in his hoodie. Matt strokes your cheek. Colby wipes your thighs clean with the edge of his shirt, kisses your knee.

You’re not weightless anymore. Not trapped.

You’re held.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Chris murmurs.

You nod slowly, nestled against his chest.

“Still glowing,” Matt says with a soft smile. “Still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You blink slowly. You’re raw. Fucked-out. Worshipped.

And for the first time in over a century, you feel alive.

happy the video was delayed tbh !! I wanted to get this out around the same time <33

🍒 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘-𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @ivydre4ms @raes-library @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pip4444chris @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @courta13 @divinesturn @aaliyahsturniolo @chris-hallelujah @mi-co-uk @ivysturnss @sweetpeabreezyree @christophersgf @bluestriips @angelic-sturniolos111 @shadowthesim237 @moond0llie @eeyoresturnz @ellssturn @fratbrochrisgf @teddystvrns @pvssychicken @ribbonlovergirl @chrisspussygang @vanteguccir @tits4matt @bambisturns @luvs4matt @delilahsturniolo @fadedstvrn @ariieeesworld @oopsiedaisydeer @rubyychriss @babyt0matoes @kenah-sturniolo @desturns @ifwdominicfike @sturns-mermaid @pair-of-pantaloons @bbgirlmatt @backwardshatnick @gregs-child @sturnlovematt22 @tezzzzzzzz

credit to anyone with any ghost!reader au's !! I am unaware of any and this is just a one shot but I do not claim the au itself <33

[pankowcrumbs]

hi! I rly love your flics ur taking request right now, would it be alright if you could make one it's a Chris Evans x fem wife reader where Chris’s arms are kind of like reader’s safe place? Like reader kind of rly loves to sleep in his arms or just hold one of his when they’re walking together or even eating beside each other. basically she likes to hold his arms in any given occasion, and peter likes it and is really sweet about it :) just some fluffy sweet intimate stuff

MasterList

Marvel MasterList

There’s a moment, every single morning, when I wake up and realise I’m not alone. Not because of the warmth in the bed or the faint scent of cologne still clinging to the pillow. But because of his arms.

Strong, solid, and always wrapped around me.

I don’t know exactly when it started that need to be tangled up with him. I used to be a sprawled-out, limbs-everywhere kind of sleeper. But with Chris, it’s like my body learned that the best place it could possibly be… was held tight in his arms.

This morning is no different.

I blink slowly, sunlight creeping through the curtains, and I feel it first his arm, heavy across my waist, hand resting gently on my stomach. His thumb moves, the softest stroke against my skin, and I know he’s awake.

“Morning,” I mumble, my voice still scratchy with sleep.

He shifts behind me, pressing a kiss just beneath my ear. “Morning, sweetheart.”

God, that voice. The way it rumbles through my back when he’s this close. I smile into the pillow.

“Comfortable?” he asks, amused.

I nod, pressing my hand over his forearm. “I’m always comfortable with you.”

His arms have always been my favourite place. Not just in bed, but everywhere. There’s something so grounding about them whether we’re walking down the street or curled up on the sofa or sat at some fancy event. It’s like the moment I hold onto his arm, everything else melts away.

And he never complains. In fact, I think he loves it.

Later that morning, we head out for brunch. Nothing fancy, just a little café around the corner with strong coffee and the fluffiest pancakes I’ve ever tasted.

Chris drives, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. I reach across and slip my fingers around his forearm. He glances over briefly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You do realise you hold onto me like I might float away, right?” he teases, voice soft.

“Maybe I’m just making sure I don’t float away,” I reply, giving him a mock-serious look.

He laughs quietly, and with one hand still on the wheel, he lifts his other just enough to lace his fingers with mine.

“You’re not going anywhere. Not if I can help it.”

At the café, we slide into a corner booth and I sit beside him not across from him, like normal people might but right next to him so I can tuck myself into his side. I rest my hand on his arm while we wait for our food, tracing slow lines over the fabric of his sleeve.

He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, halfway through talking about something his brother said the other day, he pauses to tilt his head toward mine.

“Comfy?”

“Mmm.”

He smiles. “You’re like a sleepy little koala sometimes, you know that?”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He chuckles, leans in, and presses a kiss to my temple. “You should.”

The thing is, Chris is a solid person. Not just physically though, yes, his arms are distracting in the best way possible but emotionally. He’s… constant. Safe. When the world gets too loud or work gets too overwhelming or my own thoughts spiral into something sharp and tangled, I always find myself gravitating toward him.

And I think he knows that.

Sometimes he doesn’t say a word he just opens his arms like he’s been waiting all day to hold me.

Once, after a particularly rubbish meeting that had me doubting everything, I came home and found him on the sofa, reading. I didn’t say anything I just walked over, curled into his side, and held onto his arm like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

He didn’t ask what was wrong. He just kissed the top of my head and held me until I could breathe again.

Later that day, after brunch and a quiet stroll through the park where, yes, I clung to his arm the whole time we stop at a bookshop. Chris lets go of my hand to look at some vintage travel books, and for a second, I feel oddly untethered.

I wander around a bit, fingers trailing over spines, but my eyes keep flicking back to him. He’s crouched down, brows furrowed in thought, arms flexed ever so slightly as he flips through pages.

I don’t even try to resist. I walk over and wrap my arm around one of his from behind, resting my chin on his shoulder.

“Find anything good?” I murmur.

He grins. “Only the best travel tips from 1973.”

I giggle into his jumper, nuzzling a little closer. “Sounds promising.”

He turns his head just enough to kiss my cheek. “You okay?”

“Now I am.”

That night, we stay in. Chinese takeaway, a bottle of wine, and some film Chris has already seen three times but insists I’ll love.

We curl up on the sofa, and before the opening credits even finish, I’ve tucked my feet beneath me and wrapped my arms around his once more.

He shifts slightly, pulling me closer until my head’s against his chest and his arm is around me properly. His fingers start drawing slow circles on my arm like he knows how to soothe me without a word.

“You’re clingy tonight,” he says gently, not unkindly.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He tilts my chin up so I have to look at him. “I like when you hold onto me.”

My throat tightens a bit. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Makes me feel… needed. Like I get to be your safe place too.”

“You are.”

There’s a pause. The quiet hum of the TV in the background. And then he says, almost like he’s been holding it in all day:

“You can always hold onto me, love. As much as you want. As long as you need.”

Later, when I’m half-asleep in his arms again, I feel him adjust slightly, tucking the blanket around me, brushing a kiss across my forehead.

“You know,” he murmurs against my skin, “I used to think strength meant standing tall. Being the one holding everyone else up.”

I blink sleepily. “You are.”

He smiles. “Maybe. But now I think strength can also look like this. Like quiet moments. Like knowing someone trusts you enough to fall asleep on your arm.”

My voice is soft, slurred with sleep. “You make it easy.”

[dadmelvindelgado]

Melvin: Do you send people there?

Christopher: As fairly as possible.

[skzjiiiii]

Boyfriend Stories with Bang Chan 🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮

genre: fluff! idol bang chan x reader, instagram stories of you and your boyfriend Bang Chan

[raspberrighost]

... big metal wife

[mattsmedusa]

✎ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬 『 +𝟏𝟖 』

ⓘ best friends? ᚐ sexual tension ᚐ blowjob ᚐ etc. + intended lowercase. 𝐰𝐜. 𝟐.𝟐𝐤

it had been an overall good day for you. you were out with a friend of yours, having gotten your nails done and now eating lunch with her. your friend started to talk about her recent little hook up. it wasn’t anything unusual, you were used to hearing your friends talk about stuff like that, but today... something in you was more curious than ever.

your friend went on and on about how good it was and how more guys should be like the one that she fucked at that party two days ago. she suddenly nudged your arm and leaned in to whisper in a hushed tone. "he was huge, like, quite literally choked me with it—it was definitely an experience." she laughed, immediately switching to a different topic but you couldn’t shake off the sudden flicker of curiosity.

blowjob. you had never done it before and all because you were intimidated by the idea of having a dick in your mouth. now though, the intimidation was gone, only leaving curiosity behind. the curiousity was persistent enough to keep lurking in the back of your mind, even as you stepped foot inside the triplets place later that day.

chris, your best friend, was sitting on his gaming chair—his back facing you—when you walked into his room. he was so concentrated on his game that he didn’t even notice you at first. you shrugged it off and immediately plopped on his bed, sprawled out like a starfish as you closed your eyes, relaxing on his bed like you owned it.

after a few minutes, chris stretched, taking off his headset and stood up to probably get something to drink and that’s when he noticed you. his eyes widened and he recoiled, putting a hand over his heart, not having expected to see you—or anyone in that matter—on his bed.

"kid- you fucking scared me, when did you even get here?" he shook his head, laughing despite his initial surprise. "laying on my bed like you own the shit, get up." he walked over to you with a silly grin, probably plotting something, but you sat up right as he approached the bed, making him jolt in surprise at your sudden movement.

"what’s wrong with you toda-" "how do you give someone a blowjob?" chris immediately paused, mouth still agape from the word he was about to say before you cut him off. he stared at you blankly and you stared back at him, determined. a part of you regretted your words, but you were too far gone into the curiosity to take it back. "what does it feel like?" you pressed on, leaning forward towards him.

"what did you say?" chris blinked at you, not sure if he heard it right or if he was just hearing shit. "did you just- did you seriously just ask me how to give someone head?" he burst out laughing, plopping on the bed beside you as he lost his shit—not believing what he was hearing.

"you didn’t just ask me that." he said in disbelief as his shoulders trembled with laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. but when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he realised that you were dead serious. his laughter subsided, surprise flickering in his expression since you never brought something like this up—never sounded interested when he did.

"wait for real? you really wanna know?" he gave you a teasing grin, his eyebrows rising. "well, it’s not like i’ve sucked dick before so i can’t really tell you how, but i have gotten a blowjob before..." he trailed off, his grin widening as he leaned closer. "you want me to teach you or something?" he joked, but the joke fell flat as you nodded your head.

his eyes widened by a fraction before he let out a small chuckle, leaning back on his hands. he didn’t expect you to actually say yes, and well, why would he refuse? it’s nothing serious—or so he thinks.

chris swallowed down the worries and what if’s and slowly nodded, muttering a bit too breathless "alright" as he adjusted his position on the bed, watching your wide-eyed expression with a small smirk. "you wanna learn or no?" he teased putting a small pillow that he had on his bed on the floor in between his spread legs.

you blinked, staring at him for a good minute, not expecting him to actually go through with it. after a few seconds, you slowly stood up and walked towards him until you were right in front of him before kneeling down on the pillow. looking up at him, you noticed the way his pupils seemed slightly more enlarged than usual.

"you’ve a hairband or something?" he leaned back slightly, casually, trying to hide the fact that your proximity got his breath hitching. "so your hair won’t get in the way." he explained, watching as you leaned to the side to rummage through your bag, pulling out a hairband and tying your hair in a low ponytail with it.

"alright now..." he cursed internally at how breathless he sounded. he spread his legs wider, almost unconsciously as he felt his dick swell at the imagery his mind created of you sucking his dick with those doe eyes looking up at him. he was already half-hard and you hadn’t even done anything yet. you were just sitting in front of him looking so edible...

what is he thinking?

chris cleared his throat, finding his voice hoarse and undeniably needy. "you gotta, uh, get me fully hard first." he said. "don’t worry, i’ll guide you through it- just do what feels right." he reassured. he was starting to finally understand the gravity of the situation, but as per usual, he pushed the thoughts away.

you tentatively touched his boner straining against his sweatpants and your breath hitched at the warmth and hardness. your gaze flickered up to watch his reaction as you palmed his dick, swallowing thickly when you felt him swell further under your attention.

chris helped you pull down his sweatpants, his cock springing free and slapping his stomach before standing upright, precum already gathering on the tip. he stared down at his dick, then back at you, a small chuckle escaping when he saw your heated glance at his cock.

"staring at it like you wanna eat it." he mumbled with another chuckle. "huh?" you snapped out of your small trance and looked up at him. "you’re staring at my dick like you wanna eat it." he repeated, giving you a knowing smirk—which earned him a slap on his thigh, causing him to giggle.

"so do i just... lick it?" you questioned, ignoring the comment he made, tentatively reaching out to wrap your fingers around his base and feeling how girthy he was. he was big and long, causing you to feel that primal need to be filled. you shifted slightly, trying to will your body to behave, but fuck, he was easily bigger than any of the guys you’ve slept with before.

chris nodded subtly. "yeah... lick it like you would with an ice cream cone." he gently guided your head closer to his cock, the tip almost pulsing as a fresh bead of precum formed on the slit before slowly sliding down his shaft and onto your fingers.

you leaned closer and slowly licked up the underside of his length, from the base to the tip, with your tongue flattened—all while looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours. chris’ dick jumped in your hand, his breath hitching at the sudden warmth and wetness of your tongue. the way you were looking up at him so prettily got him feeling all types of ways.

you saw his reaction and interpreted it as you doing a good job and started to slowly become bolder, moving your hand in a twisting motion up and down his shaft while you kissed and licked his tip.

"f-fuck--" chris moaned quietly, his eyes closing briefly at the pleasure shooting through his whole body as your mouth focused solely on the head of his cock. his hand left your head to clutch onto the sheets beside his thigh. his hips twitched and jolted when you wrapped your lips around his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it.

you knew some things about a blowjob. the knowledge came from hearing about it from your friends, porn and some freaky reels you got recommended while doom scrolling on instagram. it’s not like you were completely innocent—you just hadn’t tried it out on anyone. but you were nervous nonetheless, seeking approval from him as you kept gazing up at him.

chris’ eyes snapped open when you took him deeper in your mouth. "wait- fuck, you sure this is your first time?" he breathed out, completely in awe at how good you were doing. he barely held himself back from rolling his eyes back when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked up his length, letting it go with a wet pop.

"y-yeah, is it bad?" you asked panting softly, feeling insecure about your inexperience. your hand halted its motion on his dick, waiting for his reply.

chris quickly shook his head, "no, fuck no, you’re so fucking good at it... that’s why i asked," he explained, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, dick twitching subtly in your hand. he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes silently pleading with yours to keep going.

you let out a quiet sigh of relief and went back to what you were doing. getting bolder the more chris reacted. every small moan, whine or groan made your stomach flip. your panties were now uncomfortably wet, clinging to your pussy as you eased one more inch of his length into your mouth, gagging slightly before pulling off to pump him with your hand.

chris was so close to the edge already, finding it difficult to stay coherent so he simply stuck to letting you do your own thing as he leaned back on both hands. his head was thrown back, brows knitted together in pleasure and lips parted as soft moans fell freely from it.

you watched as chris’ breathing grew increasingly shallow, his hips jerking upwards and thighs trembling ever so slightly. that’s when you understood that he was about to come undone. the sudden realisation left your stomach doing somersaults and you immediately redoubled your efforts.

"wait, fuck- i’m gonna cum... if you don’t want—mmfhh—if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth then pull off." he said urgently. his breath hitched more frequently now as the bands in his stomach grew more and more taut.

you didn’t pull away though—you went faster, bobbing your head more enthusiastically as your hand took care of what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking insistently before slowly going down and taking as much as you could.

that’s when chris suddenly held your head still between his hands, his hips giving a sharp thrust up and burying himself completely in your mouth as he came, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as breathy moans and profanities left his mouth. you felt his cock twitch and spurt out warm cum right down your throat.

chris’ hips jerked against your face, slowly riding out his high. he didn’t release your head until you slapped his thigh repeatedly, coughing as you tried your best to swallow down his release. he quickly let go of your head, mumbling a breathless "sorry" before slumping back on his bed. his chest heaved and body shuddered with aftershocks.

it took him a good minute to recover and when he did, he sat up, pulling his sweats up and looking at you like you had grown a second head. you simply chuckled at his surprised expression, wiping your mouth with a tissue from the tissue box beside his bed.

"you’re fucking insane." chris suddenly said. he was in disbelief that his inexperienced best friend just gave him the best blowjob he has ever received... and mind you, he has had his fair share of heads so when he thinks it’s good—it’s really fucking good.

"was it good?" you gave him a small grin, knowing the answer but not wanting to sound too full of yourself. your words made chris stare at you like you just told him something ridiculous.

"was it good?" he repeated your question with a laugh. "c’mon, you’re really gonna ask me that after making me moan and cum in like 2 minutes?" he teased, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he helped you stand up from your kneeling position in front of him.

"so, anything else you want me to teach you? ’cause i’m more than willing to be your personal instructor if you’re gonna do that good." he grinned shamelessly, laughing softly when you shoved him to the side.

"kid, don’t even try anything with me." you rolled your eyes, even as a small smile formed on your lips. you didn’t respond to his question, changing the subject as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, but you knew something shifted between you two after that. every little touch felt more than just a touch.

it’s probably just your imagination... right?

୨୧

✩ ˙˖˚᮫ ⁱˢᵃ ᮭ ᮭ.ᐟ i apologise for taking so long, hope you enjoy this nonetheless anon<3

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns @gwennybenny @whore4mattsturniolo @sturns-mermaid @il0vey0um0st @summersturni @ashleysturn @unknvhx @natesfavoritehoe @lizzymacdonald06 @sleepiibunniiii @plrlvssnz @patchy-icey @greekgirldreaming @moosegirl96 @sllutty-sturniolo @rinnsgalaxy @urfavvbilliemunch @pasteldreams @heartsonlyforchris @jas06sposts @elizabeth8483 @starkeysturniolo @chrisissobabygirl @emely9274 @matts-wife @courta13 @p1nkm6tter @jocelyncsblog @bamsblooming @malsmind

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

[tulipsimss]

Chris was just having fun with Penny when a stranger started scolding her, sometimes it’s great to be a spellcaster🤭

[silversturn]

Bros adjusting it

[ecstasturns]

giving bsf!chris a bubble bath after a nasty hockey match

error—tw: descriptions of injuries

“careful, you’re spillin’ that shit everywhere.” you chuckled, leaning back against the wall and admiring him.

his messy, wet hair that clung to the cut and bruised skin of his neck. the way his lips remained slightly parted, body engulfed by the white foam piled on the surface of the bath water.

he hummed, reaching out a drenched arm in your direction, whiny voice urging you to come closer. “come here, please.” you hesitated, you told yourself you were doing this as a friend. nothing else.

he’d caught some pretty nasty blows on the pitch an hour ago. Chris was always the first to defend a teammate during games. he was team captain.

you knew the exact moment he’d lost it, watching one of his players hit the ground hard after being hit in the ankle with a hockey stick. fury burned behind his eyes as he made his way over, shaking with adrenaline. you remembered it so clearly.

a hiss emerged from the other end of the room. “y/n please, it hurts. don’t make me beg.”

with a sigh, you stood up, slowly moving closer to Chris and hovering above him. swishing some of the foam to the side revealed the dark red line cutting clean across his torso.

dipping them into the water, feeling the heat slowly creep up your fingers, you pressed a hand to the irritated skin beneath the cut. Chris’ head fell back, biting his lip tight to suppress a pained whimper.

“dude messed you up bad, huh?” you teased, dragging a stray thumb down his ab muscles, caressing the boy’s soft, pale skin. Chris nodded, opening his eyes to find yours already staring back at him.

the two of you stayed like that for a prolonged moment. basking in the comfort each other’s gaze. you could tell Chris’ mind was drifting off when his sung grin became more prominent.

“what are you thinking about?”

“you. wet—” his hand climbed its way up your arm, other one reaching around your hip as he began to tug you down. “—with all your clothes on.”

“no. no—chris.” you were to weak to resist, before you knew it, you were laying on top of him, shorts soaked all the way through, white tank top glued to your skin, revealing everything that was happening underneath.

his plush pinks planted wet kisses all over your chest, humming with pleasure. you were worried your body weight was pressing down on his injuries. “Chris I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“no this is better.”

“you sure?”

“wan’ me to prove it?”

𐔌 file.an — comment a tongue emoji if you want part 2 ! thank you for all the love so far. and thank you to awake 2007 for inspiring this blurb. clay beresford >>> anakin skywalker (kill me)

© ecstasturns

[sweetshuga]

「 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 ’𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝑪.𝑺 」

ᯓ 𝑰𝒅𝒆𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 + 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒃𝒚 @malsmind «𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏» ────

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ strangers to something ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ pet names ⋆ pussy eating ⋆ munch!chris ⋆ (kinda) mean!chris ⋆ dom!chris ⋆ fingering ⋆ degradation kink? ⋆ praise kink ⋆ edging? ⋆ squirting + more.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑 𝒌

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: This is a collab with @malsmind (aka my baby momma) It took me 3 business days to write this ’cause I’m so fucking slow like that (ty for being patient Mal, luv uuu).

𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑰𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅: English is not my first language!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: What happens when Chris actually ends up reading your anonymous confession out loud?

Act 1: Chris is definitely not a munch...

You sat on one of the seats in the third row from the front, nibbling on your bottom lip as you smoothed out your pink t-shirt that had "Certified Munch" written in capital letters on the front. You had incorporated the tee so well in your outfit that no one paid much attention to it—not like they could with all the excitement buzzing in the air.

Your heart thumped against your ribcage in anticipation as you waited for the triplets to appear. The countdown began and everyone went crazy, screaming the numbers as it decreased down to 1.

The cheers were loud when the triplets appeared. Screams of excitement filled the air when they laughed and talked on the microphone, greeting their fans before making themselves comfortable on the sofas.

About 15 minutes in, Chris stood up and brought a briefcase to the table in between the two sofas as Nick and Matt talked about the anonymous confessions from the last tour. Chris handed Nick a few q-cards before walking over to the sofa Matt sat at, handing him half of the remainder of the cards before sitting down beside him.

Nick had the honour to read out the first confession, then it was Chris’ turn.

"It might seem like a hot take and I might be wrong but Chris is definitely not a munch..." As Chris began reading the confession, his brows furrowed, voice getting more quieter with each word as his brain worked to comprehend what he just read out loud.

Your eyes widened slowly when you heard what you wrote being read out loud by none other than Chris himself. You were not expecting him to read yours. You had written the anonymous confession as a joke, thinking they would never read it in front of a whole damn crowd.

The triplets exchanged a glance, confused as to how the card was in there even though they had sorted out which ones to read and which ones to not.

The auditorium filled with giggles from those that understood what it meant and small murmurs from people that weren’t quite getting it.

After a few awkward seconds, Chris burst out laughing, reading the card again as he shook his head in amusement. "Wow... Who even wrote this?" He chuckled, eyes raking the crowd until it landed on you—he knew immediately that it was you.

What gave it away? C’mon now, you were wearing such a bold t-shirt—it’s too much of a coincidence not to be you.

You quickly shook your head no when they asked if you wanted to elaborate. Even though you were the one that wrote such a crude thing, you weren’t ready to confront it or be confronted about it.

Nick and Matt made some jokes here and there before it was Matt’s turn to read out a confession. Chris, however, had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at the crowd before shifting his attention back to Matt when he started to read the next confession.

Act 2: Meet Chris backstage?

After the show ended, people were getting ready to leave and so were you. That’s when a security guard – you saw when you first entered the stadium – suddenly approached you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood up from your seat with your bag, afraid that you had gotten into trouble from the stunt you pulled with the anonymous confession.

The security guard spoke before you could ask him what was wrong. "Chris asked me to bring you backstage." You froze, blinking rapidly as you muttered out a very confused "what?" making the guy repeat himself.

You couldn’t believe it.

Chris? As in the Christopher Sturniolo asking you to come backstage? Yeah, it had to be a sick joke. But the security guard didn’t look like he was joking and that was messing with your head.

In the end, you followed the security guard backstage, still very much confused and nervous, but now with growing excitement.

As you walked further down a corridor and towards a room labelled "personnel only", the realization that you were indeed meeting Chris was heavy, enough to take your breath away.

As you entered the room, there he was; Chris Sturniolo. Your heart was beating so hard that you could hear it in your ears when he looked up from his phone. A slow smirk plastered on his lips as he stood up from the couch he was sitting on and walked towards you.

The security guard walked out of the room, leaving you two alone in the room. The room felt so small even though it was spacious enough. The air felt thick, enough to make you feel like you were suffocating as you swallowed hard.

"So..." Chris drawled, his head tilting slightly as his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. "You’re the one who wrote that munch shit?" He barely hid his amusement, his voice thick with unspent laughter.

You could only nod your head, embarrassed by the sudden unexpected confrontation. Chris’ smirk widened when he took in your nervousness—it only emboldened him.

"What did you mean by that?" He asked on purpose, knowing exactly what you meant but it wouldn’t be so fun to just let it go that easily now would it?

"By what?" You asked back dumbly, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to comprehend the fact that you were talking to Chris. He didn’t even give you a moment to collect yourself as he moved closer, standing so close that you could feel his body heat.

"What did you mean by... not a munch?" His voice was slightly quieter, more intimate as he held eye contact—obviously testing you, wanting to see your reaction.

"You, um, just don’t seem like the type to enjoy giving head...?" Your words came out more as a question, as if you were doubting it yourself. Cursing internally, you let out a barely audible sigh, slightly annoyed by how much you were stammering.

You weren’t usually this nervous or quiet when talking to people, but something about the way he was looking at you; the way he was smirking smugly like he could read your thoughts; the way there was a hint of blatant teasing in his tone—it all left your knees weak.

"Tell me." He began, pausing to make you squirm—which he succeeded in doing. "How do you know if I enjoy eating pussy or not?" He asked bluntly, causing your breath to stutter.

"I don’t know..." You mumbled, feeling wetness pool in your panties from the way he was talking to you. You were getting so damned turned on and Chris wasn’t even doing anything, just asking you a few simple questions.

It was almost laughable how affected you were.

"Well, now I wanna prove to you that I do in fact enjoy it a lot." His smirk widened, knowing damn well what he was doing to you.

He stepped closer until his body touched yours, slowly backing you towards the nearest wall as you blinked rapidly, stumbling slightly as your breath hitched again. "Wha-" The words you tried to say died in your throat before you could say them.

"Jus’ wanna prove you wrong, baby." He said, tilting your face slightly up with his hand and leaning down as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His breath ghosted over your lips, causing them to part subtly.

"Or are you gonna be stubborn and go around spreading bullshit about me when you don’t know shit?" He whispered harshly against your lips and you quickly shook your head no, making him smirk smugly.

"Good girl."

Act 3: Prove ’em wrong

Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, eyes rolling back in your skull as Chris’ mouth devoured your cunt. Your fingers curled in his hair, tugging at the strands as your thighs trembled subtly where it sat on his shoulders.

Chris moaned against your pussy, his fingers digging possessively in the supple flesh of your ass as he pulled you closer to his face.

"So fucking good." He groaned as he pulled back, sitting up. His fingers replaced his mouth, two long digits slowly sliding inside your greedy cunt and curling upwards to rub against that spongy spot that made your eyes roll back involuntarily.

"Here?" He smirked, pressing harder against your sweet spot, eliciting a needy moan from you. "Feels soo good doesn’t it?" He taunted as he started to finger-fuck you, holding your hips down with his free hand to stop you from bucking your hips.

Chris let out an airy chuckle when he heard the desperate noises slipping past your lips. "You’ve to be a little quieter, ma..." He trailed off, his smirk widening as he continued. "Unless you want people to hear what a fucking whore you are."

Your face burned with embarrassment and humiliation, but there was a spark of what seemed like... excitement? The degrading words only succeeded in doubling your pleasure, getting you closer and closer to the edge as you clutched onto the couch cushions for dear life.

"Fuuck, y’hear that?" He groaned, referring to the wet squelches from his fingers ramming into your sopping pussy over and over again. "S’fucking wet... All because of me." He breathed out, trying to hide how much this was affecting him.

He felt your inner muscles flutter around his fingers, your moans growing in both volume and desperation as you got closer to coming undone, but Chris wasn’t done with you yet.

A pathetic whine escaped you when he pulled out his fingers, sucking your juices off of them with a delighted hum. His lips curled at the corners and you knew that he was well aware of what he was doing to you.

"So pretty." He ran his thumb over your swollen, pulsating clit, making you jump slightly from how sensitive you were, a needy whimper tumbling out before you could stop it.

"Such pretty noises," he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to hear and it sent shivers down your spine. You were sure that Chris felt your body tremble, judging by the way his smirk widened into a smug grin.

"You want more?" He asked, his hands now caressing your thighs as he waited for your reply even though he knew the answer already, but he wanted to hear you say it.

Chris clicked his tongue when you nodded. "Ah-ah, words baby, use your words." You were too far gone to care about how desperate you sounded as you whimpered. "Please, Chris... I need you- your fingers, your mouth- anything, please..."

"Theere you go." He drawled. "Wasn’t so hard now was it?"

His head dipped down again, arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you closer to him. His tongue flattened out to lick stripes up your slit before his thumbs spread open your folds. The sight of your glistening pussy made him salivate as he swallowed hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He leaned in and closed his lips around your clit, sucking gently as his fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping inside again. A whiny sound ripped from your throat as your eyes rolled back briefly before closing shut. You were seeing stars from the suction on your clit from his mouth.

Your increasingly loud moans spurred him on, making him redouble his efforts to push you over the edge.

Your body tensed, thighs trembling slightly as your breath hitched—coming in short gasps. Chris groaned against your pussy when he felt your insides contract around his fingers, pulsing rhythmically all while greedily pulling him in deeper.

"Ch-chris-- I’m gonna—ffuuuck--" Your breath hitched, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your eyes snapped open, landing on the delicious sight between your legs.

A low drawn out moan left your lips when the pressure in your stomach finally burst—white-hot pleasure running through your whole body.

Chris gasped softly when a clear liquid sprayed out, making him recoil back from surprise. He blinked, brain short-circuiting as his fingers stilled inside you before finally realising that you were squirting.

"Fuuck, did you just squirt? That’s so fucking sexy." He groaned as his fingers started to pound into you without waiting for a response, purposely curling up to hit your g-spot in hopes to make you squirt again.

You were so sensitive from orgasming that you could feel your second release approaching terrifyingly quickly. Your eyes widened as you clutched onto his arm—trying to ground yourself from the intense pleasure and also to distract yourself to not cum so quickly.

Chris’ head was in between your thighs before you knew it, eating you out like you were his last fucking meal. Your hips bucked—only to get held down by his free hand. You could only lay there and take it as his mouth and fingers worked you to the edge again.

It was a matter of seconds before you were cumming all over his face—quite literally. He wasn’t surprised this time around, just kept eating you out even as you gushed all over him, lapping up your release like it was his favourite ice cream.

You nearly forgot where you were as you moaned loudly until Chris’ hand left your hip and clamped over your mouth instead, effectively muffling your cries of pleasure.

He kept licking and sucking your sensitive bundle of nerves all while his fingers petted your gummy walls until you were boneless, small whimpers being muffled by his hand.

Chris pulled back to admire the sight of your trembling body, proud of his handiwork. His hand and face were coated in your release and the sight made your stomach do somersaults.

He didn’t even need you to tell him that you were wrong with your anonymous confession—he already knew your answer since your body answered it for him. A satisfied smirk plastered on his lips as he walked over to the small table in the corner of the room to retrieve tissues and wet wipes.

He began cleaning up your inner thighs when he came back, making sure you were clean before cleaning up his face, hand and the couch, from your release, watching with a mischievous gleam in his eyes as you shakily wore your lace panties back on.

"Cute shit you got there." He commented, tossing the used wet wipes and tissues in the trash can. "You into that? Cute lacy sets?" He teased, chuckling softly to himself when you nodded, finding you more and more adorable.

Chris was painfully hard, adjusting himself in his pants as he manspread, trying to relieve the tension. He saw you looking at his lap, making him spread his legs more without even realising it.

"You need... um, help? With that?" You gestured vaguely at his lap, running a hand through your hair as you tried to fix it.

Chris just shook his head with a soft chuckle. "Nah, I’m fine, you jus’ worry about fixing your clothes, can’t go around looking so edible." He grinned, and you couldn’t help a chuckle at his words.

Fuck, how much you loved this man.

As you two sat on the couch – fixing yourselves and drinking water – you suddenly remembered that you had an instant film camera in your bag. You quickly walked over to the table to get it as Chris raised an eyebrow at your enthusiasm.

"Can we take a picture?" You asked as you walked back to the couch where Chris was.

"Now? After I ate you out like my life depended on it?" He teased, but didn’t say no as he stood up, running a hand through his hair to fix it but only succeeded in making it messier instead.

Chris took the camera from you as he pulled you into his side, his arm wrapping around your waist before angling the camera to capture you both.

You smiled for the picture, relaxing against him. A short shuttering sound came from the camera before a small picture slowly slid up from the top. Chris took it when it was fully out, shaking it firmly before he held it still in his hand, watching as the ink slowly darkened.

"Can you write your signature too?" You decided to use the opportunity to ask for his signature as well—which he gladly wrote down on the back. He wrote something else after his signature, but you were too dazed from the whole experience to notice it.

Chris handed you the picture and your camera, his fingers lingering on yours for a beat before he took his hand away, looking away as he cleared his throat.

After a few seconds, he looked back at you again with a friendly smile on his face, but his gaze lingered on your lips like he was longing for it—telling a very different story from the smile he was giving you.

You put the picture and camera in your bag, fixing your t-shirt one last time, not even noticing the way he was looking at you.

"Well..." He paused, looking into your eyes when you looked at him, searching yours with his blue ones. "It was a pleasure to meet you-" Before he could say anything else, his phone rang, breaking the moment between you two.

Chris let out a soft sigh when he saw the caller id.

"Nick’s calling me, probably wondering where I am... I gotta go." He flashed you an apologetic smile. "See you around." He pulled you into a quick hug before walking towards the door.

Chris looked back and waved slightly, flashing you a teasing smirk before he walked out of the room, leaving your heart beating rapidly from the encounter.

See you around, huh?

As you walked out of the stadium a few minutes later, you rummaged through your bag and took out the picture, biting back a wide grin as you looked at it. Your heart skipped a beat when you turned the picture around, seeing a phone number written below Chris’ signature with "Let’s keep in touch :)" written beside it.

No. Fucking. Way.

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒂

[phone4pills]

the muscle on this skinny boy is crazy

(did someone say sleeper build?)

[whor3ing]

𝑺𝒂𝒚 𝑰𝒕 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 1 | 𝑪.𝑺

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ SHOW ME , BURY & BENELD

Chris Sturniolo x f!reader

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

IN WHICH.. You meet Chris Sturniolo at a meet-and-greet, where a seemingly innocent interaction quickly turns into something more backstage. Later that evening, you post about the experience on your Tumblr blog, never expecting that Chris would find it.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

part one , part two , part three

word count : 6k ♡

00 : Behind the Velvet Rope

The moment you’ve been waiting for, dreamed about, counted to, has finally arrived.

Those words echo through your head, but they do nothing to calm the anticipation curling tight in your chest. The feeling is overwhelming, almost suffocating, as you stand amongst the crowd, your eyes scanning the room, your heart hammering harder with each passing second.

As much as it feels like a fever dream to be here, to be seconds away from meeting the Sturniolo's, the sight of their names and their faces plastered everywhere remind you just how real this truly is.

Pictures of them are scattered across the venue, some candid, some posed, their names bolded in dark black ink, all so familiar that it almost feels unreal to be surrounded by them like this.

You’ve seen these faces a thousand times before, in their videos, in edits you’ve replayed more times than you can admit.

But never like this, never with the knowledge that just beyond the crowd, just past the last few people in line, they’re actually here; about to meet you.

Every so often, you catch glimpses between the shifting bodies of your peers, an all too familiar hand running through hair, a quick turn of a head, the flash of a grin. It makes your stomach flip, a rush of nerves tightening in your chest as the distance between you and them continues to shrink. You tug at the hem of your shirt, shifting on your feet, the denim of your jeans stiff against your legs, grounding you as anticipation builds.

The line stretches ahead, absolutely packed with fans, voices bubbling with excitement, nervous laughter breaking through the hum of conversation. Their energy mirrors your own, their wide smiles, restless hands, the jittery edge of absolute shock laced with their every movement.

And then suddenly, it’s your turn.

Your breath catches in your throat as you step forward, your legs unsteady beneath you. Every second leading up to this moment had felt like a blur, but now, time slows to an unbearable crawl.

Christopher Sturniolo is right there.

Sitting at the table, arms resting lazily against it, he glances up at you, and for the first time tonight, your mind goes completely blank.

Chris looks even better in person, somehow sharper and softer all at once. His dark hair is tousled, the strands falling perfectly into place and his blue eyes are piercing under the bright venue lights, playful yet sharp as they lock onto yours, like he’s already figured you out before you’ve even spoken.

He’s wearing a hoodie, the fabric bunched slightly at his elbows, exposing his forearms as he lazily rests them on the table. His fingers tap idly against the surface, the few rings on his fingers catching the light with every slow movement.

Beside him, Matt is just as relaxed, leaning back slightly in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his lips curved into an easy smile as he chats with the fan in front of him. Nick, on the other hand, is laughing at something someone said, his eyes shining and his smile wide.

There’s something about the way he’s sitting, about the way they all are sitting—it's relaxed, confident, like they are all completely at ease despite the constant buzz of excitement around him.

The silver chain around his neck glints as he shifts slightly, and the scent of his cologne lingers in the air between you—clean, warm, something undeniably him.

His lips twitch up into that familiar, teasing smirk, like he already knows the effect he has on you, like he’s waiting to see just how flustered you’ll get.

“Yo, what’s up?” His voice is smooth, casual, like this is just any other conversation, like he’s not the one you’ve been waiting to meet for months, like he's not the one you write about, dream about.

He leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, fingers idly drumming against the surface. “You doin’ good? You look kinda—” He pauses, tilting his head, eyes scanning your face before a knowing grin spreads across his lips. “Nervous as hell.”

Your stomach flips, heat creeping up your neck as you let out a shaky laugh. “I mean… yeah, kinda.”

He huffs out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, you’re good. We’re just guys, y’know? No need to be nervous.” He gestures between himself and his brothers. “Well, except maybe around Matt. He’s kinda weird.”

“Dude, what?” Matt scoffs from beside him, shooting Chris an offended glare, but Chris just laughs, his eyes flicking back to you.

“So, what’s your name?” he asks, his fingers lazily spinning the Sharpie in his hand.

You tell him, and he repeats it back, testing it out, letting it roll off his tongue.

“Yeah, that’s a cool name.” He grins, then nods toward your phone still clutched tightly in your hand. “You wanna take a picture or somethin’?”

You nod quickly, almost too eagerly, and Chris chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head as he reaches out for your phone. His fingers brush against yours as he takes it from you, and the contact is brief, but it’s enough to drive you wild.

“Alright, c’mere,” he says, shifting slightly in his seat to make space for you.

Your heart pounds as you step closer, slipping into the small space between him and Nick, Matt at your other side.

Chris slings an arm around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his grip easy, warm, familiar despite the fact that you’ve never met before. The scent of his cologne lingers stronger now, mixing with the faint hint of whatever detergent clings to his hoodie.

Matt leans in on the other side, grinning as Nick holds up the phone to snap the picture. “Alright, say something dumb,” Nick teases, hovering his thumb over the button.

Chris hums like he’s actually thinking about it before, at the last second, he rolls his eyes, “Matt’s ugly.”

The camera clicks right as Matt shoves him, nearly knocking you into Chris’ chest as everyone bursts into laughter.

“Dude, you’re literally an idiot,” Matt groans, shaking his head, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips.

You can’t even process what just happened, can’t believe how easy this all feels, how comfortable they all are. Chris is still laughing, arm still draped over you, and when he looks down, catching the dazed smile on your face, his grin seems to shift to almost a smirk.

“You good?” he teases, voice low enough that only you can hear it. His fingers squeeze your shoulder lightly before he drops his arm, wiping his hand on his jeans before turning back to the table as he reaches for a poster to sign.

Behind him, Matt and Nick settle back into their spots, effortlessly slipping back into their interactions. Matt flashes a playful smile at a girl just a few feet away, ruffling his hair before signing something for her, while Nick cracks a joke with a fan, making them laugh easily.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

He chuckles, uncapping the Sharpie with his teeth before scribbling something down, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

It’s such a simple action, but there’s something effortlessly hot about the way he does it—his lips parting just enough to hold the cap between his teeth, jaw tightening slightly as he focuses on the paper in front of him. His fingers move lazily, gripping the marker with practiced ease, veins subtly visible beneath the skin of his forearm as he writes. He smiles, his eyes flashing up to you, "You sure about that?”

Chris slides the signed poster toward you, but instead of looking away like he’s already moving on to the next person, his eyes linger on you. He’s watching you again—really watching, like he’s trying to figure you out. Like he knows something you don’t.

“You from around here?” he asks, his tone still light, still teasing, but there’s an edge of curiosity beneath it.

You shake your head. “Nah, I drove a few hours for this.”

He raises an eyebrow, an amused sort of interest flashing across his face. “Damn. Dedication.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he leans in just a little.

“Worth it?”

You let out a breathy laugh, trying to ignore how warm your face is. “I mean… yeah.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, tapping the Sharpie against his ring covered fingers. “I dunno, you don’t sound too sure.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you’re pretty sure he knows it. “No, it’s definitely worth it.”

Chris huffs a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leans back again. His gaze flickers down for a split second—your skirt, the way your fingers brush at the hem, grounding yourself.

He tilts his head toward the side of the venue, where a roped-off area leads toward the backstage doors. “You in a rush?”

You blink. “What?”

His smirk deepens, like he’s enjoying how easily you get flustered. “You got time to hang for a bit?”

Your stomach flips. “Backstage?”

Chris shrugs, tapping the marker against his lip like he’s pretending to think about it. “I mean, unless you’d rather go stand in the crowd again.”

It’s not a serious question. He knows the answer before you even say it.

You nod, pulse racing. “Yeah. I—I have time.”

His grin widens as he pushes back from the table, his brothers still occupied with other fans, not paying much attention. He gestures for you to follow. “Aight, c’mon then.”

01 : Sex & Souvenirs

Your heart pounds in your chest as you follow him, trying to keep your steps steady even though everything inside of you feels like it's on fire.

You follow close behind, your heart thumping faster with every step. The sound of your shoes against the floor is drowned by the hum of conversations and the distant music, but it doesn’t matter.

All you can focus on is Chris in front of you, the way he moves through the queue, the way his hands rest at his side as he walks, the relaxed yet confident sway in his step. He glances back occasionally, flashing you that same teasing grin, as if he’s fully aware of how you’re trying to steady your breath.

As you both make your way to the backstage area, the excitement of the venue fades, replaced by a quiet hum in the background.

The hallways here are quieter, cooler, and the lights are dimmer, casting long shadows along the walls. Chris takes it all in stride, leading the way with that calm ease of someone who’s used to this world, before leading you down the hall, stopping at a door that's slightly ajar, the light from inside spilling out onto the floor.

He nudges it open with his shoulder, revealing a small, dimly lit room.

Inside, the carpet underfoot is a muted gray, plush enough to sink into, but it’s clear it’s been well-worn, the fibers flattened from frequent use.

It contrasts with the polished wood of the coffee table and the sleek metal of the film equipment scattered around. A few stray cords snake across the floor, leading to the cameras and tripods, adding to the sense of controlled messiness in the room.

A couch sits against the wall, an old leather piece that’s seen better days but still looks inviting with its deep, rich color. A couple of water bottles and a half-empty snack bowl rest on the coffee table, along with a remote control for the TV on the wall, currently switched off, silent in the background.

Walking over to the couch, Chris takes a seat, casually throwing one arm across the back, looking relaxed. He pats the spot beside him, the gesture almost casual, but you can tell from the way his eyes lock onto yours that it’s more than just an invitation to sit.

“You sure your good?” he asks again, his voice low, his gaze never leaving you. The smirk is still there, but it feels different now, like there’s something else beneath it, something personal.

You sit beside him, feeling the heat of his body next to yours, but your mind’s still buzzing with the moment you’re actually here. Something else crosses your mind, and the words slip out before you can stop them. “Won’t your other fans miss you?”

You tilt your head slightly, your fingers tracing the edge of the coffee table, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. “I mean, you’re kinda skipping out on the meet and greet, right?”

Chris’ eyes twinkle with amusement, a grin tugging at his lips as he leans back, one hand still draped across the back of the couch, his body angled toward you.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” he says smoothly, almost nonchalant. “They’ll get their turn. I’m just taking a little break, y’know?”

His gaze softens as he glances down at you, that smirk still playing at the corner of his mouth. “But right now? I’m more focused on you than them.”

He leans in a little closer, his arm brushing against yours as he shifts his weight, the space between you narrowing just enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him.

Chris leans back into the couch, his eyes still locked on you with that same teasing glint, his smirk never quite leaving.

There’s something in the way he looks at you now, something sharper, as if he’s watching every little movement, every breath you take.

“So…” he starts, the word drawn out like he’s savoring it. “Why you so nervous all of a sudden? You were calm enough to follow me back here.” His voice drops, quieter now, almost too casual, like he's testing you. “Came all the way back here with me, no hesitation. But now you’re acting like I’m gonna bite your head off or somethin’.”

You swallow, heart pounding as the tension between you thickens. "I didn’t think it’d be like this," you admit, your voice quieter now, your words almost coming out in a breathless rush. "Like, I didn’t think I’d end up… here. With you. Alone."

Chris’ smirk widens, but there's something deeper in his expression now, like he’s enjoying this subtle game you’re playing. "So, what, you thought this was all just gonna stay... innocent?" His voice drops a little, the teasing edge still there but laced with something else, something more intent. "You came all the way back here with me, and now you’re telling me you didn’t expect it to get... this close?"

You hesitate for a second, your pulse quickening under his gaze. "I didn’t know what to expect."

Chris raises an eyebrow at your words, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. "But you knew something would happen, right?"

His voice drops even lower, more deliberate now, like he’s trying to draw you in further with his velvety tone. "You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t expect something to change." You didn’t follow me back just to sit and chat."

As he speaks, his fingers move absentmindedly, toying with the rings on his hands, twisting them between his fingers like he has all the time in the world.

The veins running along the backs of his hands stand out subtly, shifting each time his fingers flex, his knuckles prominent as he rolls the metal around. It’s distracting—too distracting—because all you can think about is how good those hands would feel against you. How easily those fingers could wrap around your wrist, your throat, your waist.

Your breath catches slightly as your eyes flicker from his hands back up to his face, only to find him watching you, smirking like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind.

"What, you’re telling me you didn’t want it to be different? Didn’t want things to get a little… closer?" His eyes catch yours again, unrelenting, like he’s daring you to say something, to make a move.

"I guess I do want it to be different," You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Chris leans back just a bit, his eyes glinting. "So, you’re not just here for the meet and greet anymore, huh?" he teases, his tone dripping with intent.

You swallow hard, your heart racing at the way he’s looking at you, at the way his words hang in the air between you.

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of his gaze making it hard to think clearly. "I guess not," you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his blue eyes again, feeling the tension between you thicken as he smiles, his tongue darting into his cheek.

His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, that same playful challenge lingering in his expression. "You know," he says, his voice quiet, almost a purr, "you don’t have to act like you’re unsure. I can tell what you want."

Chris smirks as his fingers lightly circle your neck, not squeezing, just resting there—taunting. "Look at you," he murmurs, tilting his head. His thumb traces the line of your jaw before tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.

As Chris’s thumb presses gently against your pulse, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the way his hand against your neck teases you. "'All worked up already, and I'm only just talking.."

Before you can respond, his lips crash into yours, hungry and impatient. This kiss is sloppy, all consuming. Chris' hungry mouth moving against yours, his grip on your neck keeping you in place as his other hand wanders down onto your thighs, drifting to firmly hold your hip, his hands rubbing themselves against the skin just above your pants.

You can feel his tongue slip against yours, rough and demanding, his lips moving in sync with your own, his hands on your neck gripping even tighter.

"You wanna get more comfortable, sweetheart?" he murmurs, breaking the kiss, his breath hot against your ear instead, "these jeans look a little tight on you."

His grip on your hip tightens as he urges you to take them off, his thumb slipping under the hem of your pants, brushing against your lower abdomen, as if to temp you out of them, not that you need much motivation.

Chris grins at you with how fast you slip off your jeans, letting them pool at your feet as you sit on the couch with him, putting your panties on display for him.

"I knew those pants were too tight on you," he murmurs, his hand moving to rest on your thigh, his palm searingly hot against your skin, just as hot as the one against your throat.. You watch as he trails his fingers up and down your inner thigh, you can feel the cold metal of his rings against your bare skin, making you shiver against him.

"C'mere, lean against the arm of the couch ma," he murmurs, his eyes filled with absolute desire.

His words are a command you can't refuse, his tone both gentle and dominant, making your insides twist with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. You obey, leaning back against the arm of the couch, your body arched toward him, your position leaving you completely exposed to him.

"God look at how wet that pussy is..." He trails off, "Can see it right through these useless panties.." Chris whispers, his fingers brushing against the fabric right above your cunt, the coldness of his rings pressing into you, only slightly.

"Can’t believe you were so soaked just from a fucking meet-and-greet," he murmurs, a sarcastic laugh escaping his lips. "You must’ve really been holding out on me."

His smirk grows, and he leans in, his lips grazing your ear, his hands mercilessly finding the waistband of your underwear. Chris' fingers brush against the fabric as he slowly pulls them down, chuckling "I bet you were dripping the whole time, huh? Couldn’t even keep it together in front of all those people."

“You’re so fucking needy,” he whispers, voice rougher now, right next to your head, but still laced with that mocking sweetness. “Didn’t think I’d be the one to make you lose it, huh? Here you are, all wet for me before we’ve even done anything."

You can feel the way that he rubs your thighs, the muscles in his hands flexing as he moves them against you. You can feel the strength in his fingers, how they wrap around you with ease, how his veins look like they're about to pop the harder he rubs against the skin of your neck.

“You like that, don’t you?” Chris mutters, breaking your thoughts. “You like the way my hands feel on you… so fucking strong, you don’t want me to stop.”

Suddenly, before you can respond, you feel his fingers reach your clit. The movement is slow as he traces gentle circles around your most sensitive spot, his fingers toying and teasing with where you need him most.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear, his fingers continuing their slow, torturous rhythm.

“Could feel it the second I touched you. All this for me, huh?” His thumb applies just enough pressure to make you gasp, pushing you closer to the edge with every stroke, while his other hand holds you steady, the veins in his wrist and forearm flexing as he moves.

"God— Chris, oh fuck.." You moan, your pussy feeling so sensitive from his touch. Instinctively, you can feel your hands reach up to cover your mouth, remembering where you are, your moans becoming muffled through the skin of your palm against your lips.

"Yeah? You like that?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, his touch growing rougher as he feels you shiver under his touch, his rings pressing into your mound above your pussy as his fingers work against your clit.

"You like it when I touch you like this? Yeah baby?"

Chris notices your covered mouth immediately, his lips curling into a smirk as he pulls back slightly from your ear to meet your eyes. "Don’t hide it," he murmurs, voice dark with authority. “I want to hear you. Every fucking sound. No holding back.”

Before you can protest or pull your hand to cover your mouth, his grip on your jaw tightens, his hand leaves your neck to remove your hand, and his thumb presses against your bottom lip, forcing it to part.

“You don’t get to hide from me,” he growls, eyes narrowing. “Let me hear how much you fucking like this, how much that fucking pussy wants me to make it feel good."

His demands only cause you to moan more, your mouth opening and your tongue snaking around his fingers that rest on your lips. Your tongue maneuvers around them, pulling his index finger into your mouth, your moans stifled against the skin of his finger. "God, Chris.. right fucking there—yes.."

Chris' fingers dig into your neck, pressing firmer as his fingers leave your clit. You whine, instinctively, the sound loud and laced with so much want. “Chris, please…” You barely manage to get the words out, your voice thick with need and frustration.

He leans back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches your reaction. “Shhh.” His finger gently presses against your lips, silencing you. “I’m not done yet,” he murmurs, voice low, amused.

You whimper, your frustration building, the absence of his touch making everything feel even more intense. You try to shift, to pull him back, but he’s not having it.

“I said, I’m not done,” he repeats, his voice like silk, but with a command in it that makes your whole body tingle. His eyes flicker down to you, seeing your desperation, and he chuckles darkly. "Patience, baby. You’ll get what you want, just not yet."

With a slow, deliberate motion, he shifts his body, positioning his thigh firmly between your legs. He presses it against you, just enough to make you gasp, but not enough to give you what you want.

“Shhh, be quiet,” he murmurs, his lips curling into that wicked smirk as he watches you squirm, his thigh resting perfectly against your pussy. "Go ahead," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, "Rub yourself on me. I know you need it. Don't be shy." He shifts slightly, giving you just enough space to grind against his thigh, his hand resting casually on the back of your neck.

"You’re not getting away with holding back anymore," he continues, the teasing in his voice only making the whole situation more intense. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips, dragging your wet pussy against the dark denim of his jeans, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Chris watches you closely, his smirk never fading, his eyes dark with amusement as you begin to ride his thigh harder, unable to stop the need coursing through you. "I know you want to feel it. Go ahead, baby, take what you need."

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his voice rough as you grind against him. "You’re so fucking wet, I can feel it." His hand grips your waist, helping guide your movements, but you can tell he’s enjoying watching you take control, even if just for a moment.

You moan, your eyes closing as you feel one of his hands grip around your hips, rubbing at the skin. He bends his neck, craning to rest his lips against the side of your neck.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this, makin' a mess on my thigh," You can feel the way Chris' lips slide against your skin, the way he sucks at your neck, biting and licking at your soft skin. “You like that, huh?” he murmurs, his teeth grazing against your skin before he sucks lightly, marking you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, can’t resist leaving my mark on you, say that you're mine— fuck.."

"I'm yours—mm, yes Chris."

He smirks, "Say it again, say that you're fucking mine."

"I'm fucking yours, Chris—God, please don't stop."

He smirks, satisfied, then moves to the other side of your neck, his lips pressing harder, teeth scraping gently before his mouth opens wider, leaving a dark, purple bruise beneath your skin. "There," he whispers, voice rough. "You’ll wear this for me, won’t you? Everywhere you go, people will know who made you feel this good."

The mixture of his hands on your thighs, guiding your hips up against his, and the way that his lips suck against your neck is enough to drive you to that edge.

Your body trembles, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle as your hips moves faster, harder, pressing down just the right way onto his thigh. You try to bite back your moans, but it’s impossible.

“Look at you,” Chris growls, his voice rough as he watches you unravel. “So fucking close, huh? Don’t even try to hide it.”

"Chris—please, I'm gonna come."

“Fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your waist, his fingers rubbing against your hips, slapping them gently, urging you to rub your cunt against him faster. “Let go for me, come all over my thigh baby."

You can’t stop it now. The buildup is too much, too overwhelming. Your breath hitches as the first wave of pleasure crashes over you, the tight knot in your stomach unraveling as you gasp for air, completely at his mercy.

As soon as you come, Chris slows your movements, his hand still gripping your waist as he pulls you gently away from him, the two of you breathing heavily. He chuckles, smiling at you, his lips detaching from your neck so that he can sit up straight, your pussy still directly in front of him, nearly twitching.

Chris tilts his head, watching you with that same cocky smirk, his fingers still teasing over your soaked skin. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “So fucked out already, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

His thumb brushes over your clit, the sensitivity making you jolt, and he grins. “Still twitching for me,” he muses, dragging his fingers down your clit, spreading the wetness just to tease you. “You want more, don’t you?”

Your breath is shaky, your body still coming down from the high, but you can’t deny the way you ache for more. You nod, unable to form words, but Chris just tuts, shaking his head.

“Use your words,” he instructs, his fingers pausing right at your entrance, the anticipation making your head spin. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin as his lips ghost over the marks he left on your neck. His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread open for him.

“I already made you come once,” he murmurs, teasing the tip of one finger inside you, barely pushing in. “You think you deserve another?”

Chris watches you squirm beneath him, his smirk deepening as he drags his fingers all along your cunt, barely touching where you need him most. His rings are cold against your heated skin, the metal sending a shiver up your spine as they trail closer to your aching pussy.

“Still shaking,” he mutters, amused. “That sensitive already slut?”

Before you can respond, he presses two fingers inside you, slow but deep, stretching you open. The coolness of his rings contrasting sharply with the absolute heat and wetness between your legs, making you gasp, your body tensing at the sensation.

Chris groans at the feeling, watching your reaction like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers curling just right, the chilled metal pressing against your walls. “Feel that? Bet you’ve never had anything this good inside you before, and it's just my fingers, ma.” He pumps his fingers lazily, just enough to make you whimper.

His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him, his thumb pressing possessively into your skin. “You’re so fucking warm,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his fingers moving deeper, twisting slightly so the pads press against that perfect spot inside you. “And so goddamn tight.”

Your hips jerk, chasing the friction, but Chris holds you down with ease, his grip tightening as he smirks. “Nah,” he chuckles, slowing his movements on purpose, flicking his head to shake the brown hair out of his eyes.

“You take what I give you. Nothing more.”

He pulls his fingers almost all the way out, letting the cold bands of his rings drag against your entrance before pushing them back in again, deliberately slow, as he murmurs, “You love it, don’t you?”

“The way my rings feel inside you. Fucking you open, stretching you out, while you just lay there and take it.”

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles as he curls his fingers again, the mix of cold and heat driving you insane. “Come on, baby,” he purrs, his lips brushing your ear. “Give me another. I want to feel you come all over my fingers.”

"Oh fuck— I—" Chris is relentless, his fingers curling inside you with precision, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit.

“That’s it,” Chris murmurs, watching you, his smirk dripping with satisfaction. “You gonna come for me again? Gonna make a mess all over my fingers baby?”

You can barely think, barely breathe, your body tightening around him, you're so damn close you can feel it about to snap. You reach your hands up, your nails digging into his shoulders, your breath catching as he fucks you with his fingers.

But then—

“Chris?”

The voice is muffled but close, floating in from just outside the door. Your entire body tenses, the haze of pleasure shattered in an instant. Your eyes snap open, panic flashing through you as another voice chimes in.

“Yo, Chris, you in there?”

Chris freezes for half a second, his jaw clenching, his fingers still pumping inside of you. “Shhh,” he hums, brushing his mouth against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw before leaning back, whispering, "You gotta be fuckin' kidding.."

His eyes flicker toward the door as another knock sounds.

“Yo, Chris, come on, man!”

Chris sighs, shaking his head as he looks at you, still spread out in front of him, still trembling, still desperate. He smirks.

“Guess they really need me,” he muses, pumping his fingers into you for the last few times, sighing. "God this pussy is so fuckin' good.. I don't wanna leave without filling it all up.."

“Fuck, Chris,” you whimper, barely even aware of how loud you sound, too lost in the feeling of his fingers still working you open. You don’t care if they hear—you just need him to keep going, need him to push you over the edge before it’s too late.

Chris groans, his jaw clenching like he’s just as frustrated as you are. “Shit, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb swiping over your clit in one last, devastating motion. “You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg.”

You let out a desperate, frustrated whine, clenching around him, your body so close to breaking. But before you can even think about falling over that edge, he pulls his fingers out completely, leaving you empty, aching, throbbing with need.

Chris brings his slick fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean with a smirk before leaning down, his lips barely lingering over yours. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before getting up, adjusting himself, running a hand through his hair as if to wipe the sex off of him.

The knocking at the door grows more impatient, voices calling his name again. Chris sighs, shaking his head before glancing back at you one last time.

“Dunno if I’ll see you again,” he mutters, almost like he’s thinking out loud. Then his smirk returns, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess we’ll see, huh?”

And with that, he’s gone, leaving you panting, soaked, and completely in shock.

02 : Confession

You’re still in bed, the only light in the room coming from your phone screen as you hover over the post button.

Your breath is uneven, pulse pounding in your ears. The memory is still so sharp,his hands on you, his breath against your ear, the way he left you hanging, knowing exactly what he was doing. The way he smirked before walking out that door, leaving you desperate, wrecked, ruined.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you scroll through the story you just typed out, everything so fresh in your head as if it had happened just a few seconds ago.

No one would ever think that this was anything different than your usual posts about Chris or Matt, nothing different than the usual smut and fluff you wrote; not one of your followers would ever imagine that this all could be true, that all of this truly happened just a few days ago at their tour.

Your legs press together just thinking about him again, a dull ache still lingering between them as the memory rushes back—his thigh between yours, his fingers digging into your hips, his voice murmuring filth into your ear. The way he left you breathless, trembling, on the edge of something devastating, only to walk away at the very last second.

Your teeth sink into your lip, a shaky exhale slipping past them as your thumb lingers over the post button.

And then, before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers press that shiny blue buttton.

Post uploaded.

thank you for reading ! ♡

part two here!

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

first mini series! tried to make it so immersive for us tumblr girlies because god i wish this would happen to me