chrxsprettygirlbookshelf

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇: you think chris’s too tired to touch you—until he catches you trying to do it yourself and shows you exactly why his fingers are better. | WC: 1.7K

The room was almost silent—only the low hum of the heater and the quiet breaths of the man sleeping beside you filled the space. Chris laid beside you on his back, one arm loosely draped over the blanket, lips parted just slightly, his lashes brushing the top of his cheeks. He looked serene like that, completely undone by exhaustion, the usual lines of tension in his brow softened to nothing. His hair was still damp from the shower he’d taken just before collapsing into bed, and the scent of his shampoo lingered faintly between the sheets.

You’d watched him fall asleep only moments after his head hit the pillow, his fingers twitching slightly before stilling. God, he was beautiful when he slept—too beautiful. And maybe it was that stillness, or the softness of his breath on your shoulder, or the warmth of his body beside yours, but your chest ached with quiet longing, a pulse of desire humming low in your stomach before you could stop it.

You hadn’t meant to let yourself get worked up tonight. Chris had been so tired — he’d spent the whole day helping Nick clean out the garage, carried boxes up and down the stairs for hours, and spent the evening helping Matt build new shelves for his room, all without complaint, despite how his shoulders ached and his eyelids drooped by dinner. You hadn’t even dared to initiate anything earlier; it would’ve felt selfish, you thought.

You’d kissed his temple, run your fingers through his hair, and told him how proud you were of him before he fell asleep in your shared bed. That should have been enough. And yet—now that you were lying next to him, wrapped in the heat of his presence, surrounded by the familiar weight of his scent and the shape of his body under the sheets—you couldn’t help the way your thighs pressed together, the way your skin burned with need. Watching him sleep only made it worse. The soft rise and fall of his chest, the slight part in his lips, the muscle twitch in his jaw—it all felt unfair, how easily he could turn you on without even trying.

You tried to ignore it, biting your lip and shifting onto your side to create a little space between your hips and his. But the ache only grew more pronounced. It felt like a kind of cruel irony—how badly you wanted him when he was clearly too tired to give. So, without fully thinking it through, you slid your hand beneath the covers and down between your legs, fingers hesitant at first, brushing over the waistband of your sleep shorts. You waited—listened to make sure his breathing stayed even—before slipping your hand inside. You gasped softly at how wet you already were, slick pooling between your thighs, your body too eager for your mind to keep up. Your fingertips found your clit and circled gently, trying to mimic the pace Chris usually used, trying to channel the memory of his longer fingers moving between your legs in those unhurried, devastating strokes. But it wasn’t the same.

Your hand felt too small, your reach too short. You arched your hips slightly for better access, biting your lip hard enough to leave an imprint, trying to keep quiet. But the pressure wasn’t deep enough, and you couldn’t quite get the right rhythm. You rubbed faster, trying to make up for it, and a small, helpless moan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it. You stilled instantly, heart thundering, listening. Chris hadn’t stirred. At least, not at first. Encouraged, you kept going—whimpering softly now, frustrated by how close you felt and how far away release remained. You slipped your fingers lower, trying to push inside, but again—your hand wasn’t enough. And then you felt it—the slow shift of movement beside you.

Chris stirred. His hand twitched against the mattress, and a second later, his head turned toward you. His voice, thick with sleep, murmured low and quiet: “...Baby?”

You froze like you’d been caught doing something shameful, eyes wide, cheeks burning. Your hand stayed buried between your legs, fingers still slick and needy, but you didn’t move. Slowly, he blinked open his eyes, pupils adjusting to the dark, gaze finding your flushed face and the way your hips were subtly tilted toward him beneath the sheets. His brow furrowed, just slightly, and then his hand reached toward you, searching, warm—and settled over your belly.

“Are you…?” he started, but the realization came fast. His fingers tightened slightly, and his voice shifted—deeper, more awake. “Were you touching yourself?”

You nodded, throat dry, suddenly embarrassed. “You were asleep,” you murmured. “I didn’t want to wake you. You’ve been so tired, and—” You hesitated, glancing down. “—mine aren’t as long. I couldn’t reach the way you do.”

Chris stared at you for a moment longer, his breath catching quietly in his throat. His expression softened into something unreadable—something between love and possession and stunned, tender awe. And then he was moving, slowly pushing himself up onto one elbow, the other hand sliding beneath the covers without hesitation. “Say that again,” he whispered, voice rough. His hand found yours between your legs and gently coaxed it away. “Tell me what you said.”

You swallowed, your voice barely audible now. “Yours are longer.”

A low, breathless sound left his throat—half groan, half chuckle—and then his fingers were pushing into the wet heat between your legs like they belonged there. “Damn right they are,” he murmured, his mouth brushing against your ear now, his hand moving slow against your clit. “You should’ve woken me, baby. You think I wouldn’t want to take care of you? Even in my sleep, I’d want to touch you.”

Your head tipped back against the pillow, legs parting further beneath the blankets. He curled his fingers inside you and dragged a moan straight from your chest, the sound muffled against his shoulder as he shifted closer. “You’re already soaked,” he breathed, almost in disbelief. “All for me, huh?” You nodded, barely coherent now as his fingers thrust deeper, working you open with that perfect pressure you’d tried and failed to replicate yourself. His lips brushed down your neck, open-mouthed kisses replacing apology. “Next time,” he whispered, “you wake me. No matter how tired I am. I’ll always want to touch you.”

Chris’s fingers moved with the kind of slow certainty that made your mind go soft and your body tighten with need. He knew you too well—knew exactly how to angle his hand, how to stroke your clit with the perfect rhythm while his other fingers curled inside you in slow, deliberate thrusts. He didn’t rush. Even now, with sleep still thick in his voice and his body heavy with fatigue, his entire focus was you—your breathy whimpers, the way your hips rolled helplessly into his hand, the way your thighs trembled under the duvet. He kissed your shoulder, soft and open-mouthed, while his wrist flexed between your legs, every stroke deeper than the last. “There,” he murmured, almost reverently, when he felt the way you clenched around him. “Right there, yeah? That’s your spot, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You could barely answer. Your fingers scrabbled to hold onto something—anything—and landed on his wrist, the one wearing that familiar metal bracelet he never took off. The chain was cold, biting against your inner thigh, a delicious contrast to the heat pooling low in your belly. Your hand gripped him tightly, not to stop him—God, no—but to ground yourself as his fingers dragged across that devastating spot again and again. You moaned brokenly into his neck, thighs falling wider apart, completely unable to control the sounds spilling from your lips. His bracelet shifted slightly with each thrust, dragging a shiver across your skin, the metal brushing against your sensitive flesh like a brand. It was a reminder that it was him doing this—Christopher—the man who’d fallen asleep beside you and still woke up just to take care of your body like it was the only thing he lived for.

He didn’t stop. If anything, his pace got more focused—two fingers curling hard, perfectly inside you, pressing into that exact bundle of nerves that made your legs shake. “That’s it, baby,” he rasped, lips against your jaw now, voice gravel-edged from sleep and arousal. “You feel that? Right there. I want you to come for me—come on my fingers. Let me feel you.” The tone in his voice had shifted—still loving, still tender—but deeper now, laced with that possessive edge he only ever let show when he was making you fall apart. The pleasure crested fast and high, your back arching, thighs clenching around his hand as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave. You sobbed his name, your hand gripping his bracelet tighter as your walls pulsed around his fingers, helpless and wrung out, entirely lost in the moment.

Chris held you through it, slowing his hand but never pulling away, working you gently through the aftershocks until your hips stopped twitching and your breathing leveled into shaky exhales. He pressed kisses to your face, your temple, your cheek, your lips—soft murmurs falling between each one. “Good girl… so good for me… always so pretty when you come,” he whispered, the praise low and endless. His hand finally slid from between your legs, soaked and glistening, and he didn’t hesitate to lick his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste of you before pulling you flush against his chest. The bracelet on his wrist clinked faintly against your thigh again as he wrapped his arm around you, the metal still cool, a silent echo of the pleasure it had accompanied.

You melted into him, face tucked into his neck, legs tangled with his under the sheets. Chris’s hand rubbed lazy, comforting circles on your back now, his other arm tight around your waist like he never wanted to let you go. He kissed your forehead, a deep, slow breath exhaling against your hair. “next time,” he murmured, voice sleepy again, “you wake me sooner. Deal?” And all you could do was nod into his skin, your heart still racing, your body still humming from the feeling of him inside you—even if it was just his fingers.

snoopy divider by: @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: this took forever to finish omg thank you so much for reading, it genuinely means the world. i seriously appreciate every interaction—likes, comments, reblogs, anything. i proofread this over and over (probably to an obsessive degree lol), so i really hope it comes across the way i imagined.

also! i ended up separating the paragraphs more and making them a bit longer in this one—if that made it harder to engage with, i’ll definitely keep that in mind and avoid doing it in the future. this is my first long-form fic on this account, so thank you again for being here <3

tags: @emeraldsturns @zenithsturniolo @sturnsblogs @sirensdollesque

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

— dom!matt puts his camera to a different use. . .

“holy fuck…” matt hisses, voice raspy as he tips his head back in ecstasy. he knows if he looks down into the viewfinder of the camera, he’s absolutely fucked.

it was his idea in the first place. to record you while you sucked him off. said he wanted you to know sexy you looked on your knees with his cock in your mouth. and who are you to turn down an opportunity like that?

so, here you are, on your knees, lips stretched around matt’s length. he’s already cum down your throat once, hence the tear stains on your cheeks and the abundant amount of drool seeping past your lips.

matt’s got one hand positioned on the back of your head, the other shakily holding the camera peering down at you. both of your hands are firmly planted on his thighs for support.

he thrusts his hips forward at a faster pace now, tip hitting the bruised spot in the back of your throat again and again. this elicits a deep groan from matt and a pathetically strangled, garbled noise from you.

“shit—take this cock so well, hm, baby?” matt mocks, his voice shaky with pleasure. “yeah, you do…little cockslut,” he adds, earning a choked whine from you, which is cut off when his tip bumps the back of your throat once again. matt chuckles, “knew you wouldn’t turn down my idea. i know how—fuck—how much you love having my dick stuffed down your throat.”

your face burns to the hue of a cherry, and your eyes fleet up to the camera, then up to his face—which is turned away. he knew if he took one look down at you, he’d cum. and he wanted this to last a little longer.

matt brutally thrusts his hips forward, to which you choke on a whimper. “shit. i-i’m sorry, baby, i just gotta—fuck,” his hips stutter momentarily, before he picks his pace back up, “just tap my thigh if s’too much.”

and that’s when you knew he was gonna start getting rough.

he holds your head still, forcefully jamming his cock in and out of your mouth. and you were loving it. “such a slut…gettin’ your face fucked for the camera.” he growls raspily. more saliva drips down your chin, mingling with the tears streaming down your face, dripping down onto your bare chest.

you’re completely soaked, feeling yourself throbbing as matt brutally face fucks you. “fuuuck, gonna cum all over that pretty face, baby,” matt pulls out, and before you can take a breath, “tongue out.”

you do as your told, sticking your tongue out and looking up at his face. matt’s eyes finally land on you as he tilts the camera down at your face. he jerks his cock a few times before feeling his balls draw tight, spurts of cum landing mostly on your face, very little of it actually making it onto your tongue. you swallow what you can.

“so pretty with my cum all over your face,” matt comments in adoration, making you giggle. “smile for the camera, baby.”

and you do, your lips curling up into a cheeky smile as you stick your tongue out once more and hear a click from the camera, followed by a soft beep.

author’s note. . . hi enjoy this short nonsense while i write some other stuff! i have written so much sub!matt that im really bad at writing dom!matt now…thanks to bae @strnilolover for the idea!! sorry this sucks and is literally so short

🏷️ : @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @paisleyy22 @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams @matts-wife @courta13 @cherryswifeyy @adorechris @elenayzxsturn @mattybsgroupie @zenithsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @bluestriips @grace-sturnz @sturnboos @owenstar @ribbonlovergirl @tweetybaird @tezzzzzzzz @vanteguccir

© cayleeuhithinknott

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

just one more - matt sturniolo

saying goodnight should be easy, but matt makes it impossible—especially when he keeps asking for just one more kiss. fluff, excessive kissing, playful teasing, soft and clingy matt

it starts with one kiss.

soft, slow, and lingering, like he’s trying to make it last forever. his hands rest gently on your waist, fingers barely pressing into the fabric of your (his) hoodie, warm against your skin. he hums contentedly as his lips move lazily against yours, not in any rush, like he has all the time in the world.

when he finally pulls back, you take a second to catch your breath, eyes fluttering open to find him already watching you with that familiar, love-struck look in his eyes.

you’re both already in bed, tangled together beneath the blankets, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamp on your nightstand. it’s late, and exhaustion is settling into your bones, making your limbs feel heavy and warm.

"i’m tired," you murmur, resting a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips.

matt doesn’t move.

instead, he leans back in, his nose brushing against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, then another, and another. each one is softer than the last, like he’s memorizing the way you feel, the way you taste, the way your lips part so easily for him every time.

"just one more," he whispers between kisses.

you let out a small laugh, pulling back just enough to look at him properly. "you said that twenty kisses ago."

he grins, unapologetic. "okay, but i mean it this time."

you arch an eyebrow, unconvinced. "do you?"

he hesitates for a second, his lips twitching like he’s fighting back a smile. "no," he admits, then kisses you again before you can call him out for it.

you try to act annoyed, but it’s hard when he’s kissing you like this, so soft and sweet, like he never wants to stop. his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer, and you melt into him like you always do.

"matt," you sigh against his lips. "i’m really sleepy."

"mm, i know," he mumbles, but he doesn’t let go. instead, he trails his lips along your jaw, down to the curve of your neck, pressing feather-light kisses against your skin. "just… one more."

you shiver at the feeling, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of his hoodie. "you’re ridiculous."

"you love it," he says, voice muffled as he buries his face against your shoulder.

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. "maybe."

he smiles against your skin, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his hands slide up your sides, his thumbs brushing gentle circles against your ribs. "so… one more?"

"matt," you groan, trying to sound stern, but your resolve is already crumbling.

he tilts his head, giving you the softest, most pleading look. "please?"

and how are you supposed to say no to that?

you sigh, feigning exasperation. "fine. but after that, we’re going to sleep."

"yeah, yeah," he mumbles, already leaning in.

except one more turns into two. then three. then four.

because matt is impossible. and you love it.

but at some point, exhaustion starts to creep in. you feel it in the way your eyelids grow heavier, in the way your body relaxes more against him, in the way your head naturally tilts into the crook of his neck. matt notices immediately, his hands stilling on your waist as he glances down at you.

"tired?" he asks softly, his voice quieter now, gentler.

you nod, your words slurring slightly as you mumble, "you wore me out with all your 'just one more' kisses."

he chuckles, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your temple. "sorry, baby."

"no, you’re not," you say sleepily.

he grins, adjusting his hold on you. "okay, maybe not. but you still love me."

"unfortunately," you tease, but the warmth in your voice gives you away.

he hums, pulling the blanket up over both of you before wrapping his arms around you again. his body is warm, solid, comforting, and the steady rhythm of his breathing is already lulling you to sleep.

"goodnight, baby," he whispers, pressing one last kiss to your forehead.

you hum softly in response, too tired to say anything else.

and just before sleep fully takes over, you feel him press one last kiss to your shoulder.

because he really is impossible.

and you really, really love it.

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

inspo writers if you’re experiencing writer’s block

we all get tired of writing and struggle to find inspiration. when Pinterest and tik tok stop working, where else do you go? well I have to say there’s nowhere better to get inspiration than from the talented, hard-working people on this very app. so here’s a carefully crafted list of writers I’ve found really helpful when it comes to upping my pen drive.

@mattluvr I’m a mattlluvr-luvr because every single piece of writing is amazing. I can never get bored on her account. polly, seriously let me give you head.

@waitforyrlove first of all, the AESTHETICS of this account. but no, the quality of the fanfics are undeniable. ik she’s currently on a hiatus but I had to mention it. go binge rn if you can’t write.

@sturnsrecord matilda is my favourite writer oat. also her theme rn is really great if you’re reading at night for some inspiration. istg sometimes i have dreams based off her writing.

@bernardsbendystraws i swear every time i need to get my motivation back i read through rose’s blurbs and fics. the genuine talent shines through on her page. there’s nothing she can’t write.

@ifwdominicfike please please please we need to make sure this queen never leaves. some nights I don’t think I would have survived if it weren’t for her works. avery is also just so sweet so leave her a nice message after binging.

@luvs4matt i actually have a dilf!matt blurb in the drafts based off her version of the au. cherry you are such an inspiration to me, and if anyone is reading this looking for daddy Matt motivation…

@delilahsturniolo bro. delilah is the fucking cutest. and I love her album marathon to pieces. also wanna say I love the theme. I have definitely scrolled through her account for inspiration.

@mattybsgroupie personally, I’d suck and fuck maria. anyway, yeah if you want some examples of well-structured smut that manages to be original and still interesting GO TO HER.

@55sturn star has the coolest aus. they are all structured so nicely and I’m star’s no.1 little sister. she’s also very open to giving advice so send her your questions.

@hysteria-things a sturniolo token writer. I’m literally haleigh and Chris’ love child. her masterlist is my home. and I’m willing to share so if you are bored or losing interest in wtv you’re writing, go read.

@darksturnz sol is so fucking cool, i mean just look at her account. she has the best takes and I am very fucking loyal to artist!chris. something in her writing is unique and it’s so easy to read while being entertaining.

@vanteguccir layout? check. skill? check. personality? check. lele checks all the boxes. her ability to write coherent storylines is something i look up to. if you want long, varied fics, her blog is the place you need to be.

@strnilolover has got to be the most supportive person ever. you can count on her to hype you up but also to write like Shakespeare with a keyboard and a viagra. do i need to say more?

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

Ride -c.s

warnings: Dom!Chris, sub!reader, begging, orgasm denial, thigh riding, lowk(highk) mean!Chris, pet names(brat, slut, whore), lmk if i missed anything !!

⇩by @anitalenia

It was nearing 2:00 a.m., and the only light in the room came from the glowing TV screen and Chris’s headset blinking softly as he played another round of Fortnite.

You were curled up beside him on the couch, wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie and your underwear, bare legs stretched across his lap. You’d been patient. For hours. Every brush of his hand on your thigh, every low groan he let out into his mic had driven you closer to the edge, and he knew it.

You shifted again, pressing your thighs together, hoping he’d finally notice. Or care.

He didn’t.

Not until you let out a quiet whimper.

His hand paused on the controller. His voice dropped just low enough for only you to hear.

“Don’t start.”

You blinked up at him. “Chris…”

His jaw twitched. His eyes stayed glued to the screen. “I’m in the middle of a match, baby. You’ll wait.”

“But I can’t.” Your voice cracked, breathy and soft. “Please.”

Chris let out a quiet, cruel little laugh. “You’ve been squirming like a desperate little slut for hours. Thought you’d last longer than this.”

Your cheeks burned.

“C’mere,” he said, finally turning to face you, voice sharp with command.

You practically jumped to climb into his lap, expecting his mouth, his fingers, something to ease the ache between your legs. But instead, he spread his knees and patted the thick muscle of his thigh.

“There. Ride it.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You want to cum so bad?” he said, voice low, dark. “You don’t get my cock, you get my thigh. If you need it bad enough, you can work for it.”

Your mouth went dry.

But your core was already soaked, and your hips moved without thinking. You straddled his thigh, settling into the firm muscle under you. The friction made your breath hitch instantly.

Chris sat back with a smirk, hands behind his head, watching you. “Go ahead. Let’s see how pathetic you look when you fuck yourself on my leg.”

You rolled your hips slowly at first, testing the feeling. The denim of his jeans was rough, textured, the perfect pressure. The friction against your clit had your toes curling.

Chris let out a low, amused hum. “Already whining like a baby, huh? Thought you were tougher than that.”

You whined, grinding harder, need taking over. His thigh flexed beneath you as he tensed, giving you even more to press against and pulling a moan from the back of your throat.

“I’ve been good all night,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders for leverage.

Chris tilted his head. “No, baby. You’ve been a brat. Pouting, whining, trying to distract me. This is what brats get.”

You whined louder, the coil in your stomach tightening fast. You were so close, grinding helplessly, moaning softly as the slick soaked through your panties.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with condescension “So desperate you’re humpin’ my leg like a dog in fuckin heat. That needy little pussy can’t even wait for my cock?”

You whimpered, nodding, tears prickling your eyes from the intensity.

Chris’s hands came up — not to help you, but to tug your panties to the side. His fingers traced the soaked line of you, but didn’t push in.

“Messy little thing. You’re soaking me.”

“Chris, please—”

“Not yet.”

You gasped again as you rubbed harder, your clit dragging over the muscle of his thigh just right.

“Say it,” Chris growled. “Say what you are.”

“I’m—” you moaned, trembling. “I’m your needy slut. J-just wanna cum—please—”

His grip finally tightened on your hips, holding you down as you moved faster, chasing it.

“That’s it, baby. Use me. Cum like a pathetic little whore on my thigh.”

And when it hit, it hit hard. Your body shook, orgasm ripping through you with a broken moan as Chris held you in place, his thigh soaked, your panties ruined. You collapsed forward into his chest, breathing hard.

Chris leaned in, voice low in your ear. “Next time, you ask once. Or I’ll make you beg even longer, maybe not even cum at all.”

⇧by @bernardsbendystraws

mel speaks; lowk trash im just doing a dump to clear my drafts 😝

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

I love to see her in my ib

—ᜊ⋱—chris making you dry hump his thigh while you tell him about your day —ᜊ⋱—

#dryhumpingsupremacy

“thaaaats it—just like that baby, cmon’ “ he praises as he looks at the distressed look on your overworked face. work had kicked your ass today and you wanted nothing more then for chris to help you forget, but he had other plans.

your hips grind softly against his thigh as you coo softly, “my coworker heather…she..” you whine as he presses your hips further down on his thigh, giving you more pressure. “mhm—tell me about her” he instructs as he caresses your hair. “what’d she do to my baby, hm?” he pouts, gripping your hips.

your hips grind on him harder, faster, picking up the pace as you try your hardest to utter sentences from your mouth. “she was so mean, chris!” you whine as you squeeze your eyes closed, your hips grinding on chris harder. “tell me about it baby—y’can do it” he urges, kissing your neck softly, your pussy drenched. “chris—can’t…” you frown as your grinds become more sloppier the more he kisses your neck. “why can’t you, hm? goin’ dumb on my thigh are we?” he chuckles lowly, moving his head up from your neck to gaze into your lust drunk eyes.

your underwear was completely soaked through, making a wet spot on chris’s jeans, amusing him greatly. “is my girl close? hm?” he coos, bouncing his thigh slightly making your sensitive cunt practically come undone from that alone. “mhm..” you look at him, eyes wide and naive. “yeah?” he tilts his head to the side, his mouth slightly agape as he reaches his hand down to rub slow circles around your clit. “yeah…so close” you bite your lip as you grind your hips against his finger, hiding your head in his neck as you let out soft whimpers and pleas.

“cum f’me, sweetheart—you deserve it” he says as you finally let go, your body trembling as you continue to grind on his fingers, euphoria crashing over your entire body. “chris—sso good..” you whimper as he slows down his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. “y’did so good, mama” he praises as he kisses you on your open mouth, pulling away soon after.

“let’s go get ourselves clean, baby…” he smiles as he stands up, never letting you go as he cradles you in his arms, taking you to the bathroom.

a/n: bring back dry humping pls🙏

tags: @starrii-sturns @sturns-mermaid @emely9274 @hjvi @chrepsi @chrisstomach @izzylovesmatt @mattssslutbby @chrisslut04 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnsxbitvh @grace-sturnz @divinesturn @sturniolo-szn2 @riasturns @whore4chris @jensturnss @riggysworld @h3arts4nat @sophand4n4 @lvrsturniolo @trustinsturniolos @chrxsprettygirl @mialovesyouchris @fictionalboysstuff @iloveduckssm

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

Ho why is you playing my with my heartstrings 💔

𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖔𝖔 𝕭𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖘 - 𝕸.𝕾.

(ex)situationship!Matt X Reader

Content: Breakup, swearing, mentions of arguments and slightly-mean!Matt, not proofread, my first fic in like a year so go easy on me lmao

Summery: Matt tries to focus on anything other than his failed situationship, but the problem is; he cant. To simply put it, she's everywhere. Everything reminds him of what he pushed away. He was planning on going radio silent until she came crawling back, but that was a hell of a lot easier said than done.

"Baby, how fucked is this?" Matt whispered to no one but himself as he got out of the shower. He'd been doing pretty damn well with the whole... 'No contact, she'll come crawling back to you' thing... That was, until he'd remind himself of her.

He'd ran out of his shampoo, and, well, call it insensitive, call it him being sentimental and feeling nauseous at the very thought of throwing her stuff away, but the only other shampoo he could find was the one she'd left, back almost two weeks ago when she'd been too busy yelling at him, calling him a manwhore, and grabbing her phone and keys to remember to take anything else. The shampoo itself was some organic shit with rosemary and some other herb he didn't care to look up, she'd claimed that it grew her hair faster, he'd claimed that she was delusional. God, the scent brought him back to the time spent by her side, though.

He stood in front of the mirror, towel low on his hips in the way he always wore it just to tease her. He winced as he reached for his toothbrush, trying desperately to ignore her light pink one sitting right next to his on the countertop. God. He needed help. Hadn't he initiated this whole breakup thing? Could he even call it a breakup when he'd never gotten off his ass and asked her to be exclusive with him? Anyways, he was better than that. And he had his own shit to do. He pulled on his clothes and in a few minutes he was gone. He relaxed when he got into his car. Nick and Chris were having him pick up some groceries for a video, and he needed so desperately to get out of that house, so it was a win-win. As he pulled into the parking lot, his breath caught in his thought as he saw it. Her red corolla, it had to be. But then, no, it wasn't, he quickly realized. She always had some hippy shit hanging on the rear view mirror, and this car didn't. he'd always complained that it was annoying, her various trinkets cluttering her car, though he secretly thought it was the cutest thing he'd ever- No no no. He was thinking about her again. Stop it, Matt, God damn it. He took a breath, loosening his grip on the steering wheel.

Walking into the store with his usual uninterested look that he forced on whenever it was taking everything in him not to freak out or break down, his eyes scanned the isles and as he picked up what he needed, he felt his heart drop as he realized that grocery store trips used to take so much longer, since she was always there, pulling him down unnecessary isles just for the fun of browsing, checking out tvs that neither of them could afford, just for the fun of walking around the store. Shit, it felt wrong to do anything without her around.

When he got home, Matt all-but collapsed onto the couch, Chris was talking to him but he wasn't paying attention, who knew ignoring someone was so hard? Nick was mindlessly trying to find something to watch on the tv, and, of course, he just had to decide on one of Larray's videos. Which, of course, Matt always watched with y/n.

"Y'know what? Fuck it." Matt scoffed, pulling out his phone, his brothers shot him confused looks but quickly went back to ignoring him. He scrolled through his contacts until he reached it, "My dumbass" as he'd nicknamed her. He prayed to God that she hadn't blocked him, quickly typing out a message and sending it before he could stop himself.

"Hey, want to get together for coffee sometime?"

So much for radio silence.

AN: welp I loathe this. I really think I could've written it better, but oh well. It didn't really convey emotion, but IG it's not the worst thing ever. Ehhhhhhh I hate this.

@chrxsprettygirl @starrii-sturns @chrissleftshoe

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

CONTROL OVER LOVE

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

—

You had been around Matt every day that week—showing up early, letting yourself in with the spare key Chris gave you a long time ago, tiptoeing through the quiet house to Matt’s room. You always woke him up the same way—soft, patient, gentle.

You’d sit on the edge of his bed and lean close, brushing your fingers through his messy curls. “Matt… c’mon, wake up,” you’d whisper, your voice like a breeze against his skin. You’d rub slow circles on his back until he stirred, groaning and flipping to the other side, burying his face into the pillow like a stubborn child.

You didn’t push. You just sighed with a small smile and headed to the kitchen.

Cutting up some fruit, cracking eggs into the pan, the soft sound of the stove heating filled the quiet. It had become a little routine. You didn’t even know why you kept showing up—not really. Maybe guilt. Maybe love. Maybe something in between.

Nick padded out in sweats, rubbing his eyes. “He doing better?” he mumbled, voice still raspy with sleep.

You glanced up from the stove, unsure how to answer. “I think—”

“—This is your fault, by the way.”

Chris’s voice cut through the kitchen, flat but sharp. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His hair was a mess, but his eyes were sharp and burning.

You blinked, a little stunned. “Chris…”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, walking forward now. “He hasn’t been like this since middle school. And that was bad—like, therapy bad. But he was getting better. And then you…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You let Noah treat you like shit while Matt watched it happen. You chose him. And now look.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your throat tightened.

Nick gave Chris a look. “Dude. Chill.”

Chris ignored him. “You broke him. And now you’re here every day acting like fruit and eggs are gonna fix what you did.”

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” you whispered.

Chris scoffed under his breath. “Yeah? Well, you did. And if you’re gonna keep coming around, maybe think about what kind of message that sends. ‘Cause this—” he pointed toward Matt’s room—“this is not sustainable. You don’t get to keep him warm while sleeping in someone else’s bed.”

You stood frozen, tears slipping down your cheeks as the eggs crackled behind you.

Nick reached out, putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Enough, bro. Seriously.”

Chris stared at you for another second, then turned and walked away.

You didn’t move. You just turned back to the stove and kept cooking, even though your hands were trembling. Because even if Chris was right… Matt still needed you.

You carried the plate into his room quietly, the smell of warm eggs and fruit drifting through the air. Matt was already sitting up in bed, blankets pooled around his waist, hoodie rumpled and hair pushed back like he’d been up for a bit. You paused for a second in the doorway when you noticed.

He was awake.

And he looked… off. Like he had something to say, but wasn’t sure how to start. His eyes were red—not puffy, not like he’d cried, but tired. Emotionally tired. The kind of tired you couldn’t fix with sleep.

You gave him a soft smile, though it barely reached your eyes, and crossed the room. “I, um… made eggs. And some fruit.” You set the plate on his nightstand and sat at the edge of the bed, a little farther away than usual.

He didn’t reach for the food.

Instead, he reached for you.

“Hey,” he said softly, fingers brushing against your wrist. “I heard what Chris said.”

You froze. Your heart sank. “Matt—”

“He’s just upset,” he cut in gently, like he already knew what you were about to say. “Don’t let it get to you.”

You swallowed hard, eyes focused on the pattern of his blanket. “But he’s not wrong.”

Matt leaned in a little closer, his voice low. “Maybe. Maybe not. But none of that matters right now.” He let out a small breath, his hand finding yours and giving it a squeeze. “You’re here. And that’s enough for me.”

Your lip trembled. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know you didn’t.”

You finally looked up at him, and the way his eyes searched yours—it broke you. He looked at you like you were still everything he wanted, even when it hurt. Even when Chris was yelling in the kitchen and your heart was a tangled mess.

He nudged the plate toward himself and picked up a fork, quietly starting to eat—more for your sake than his.

And for a while, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the soft clink of metal on ceramic and the occasional breath between sentences neither of you had the strength to say just yet.

You were still in Matt’s room, holding your phone in your hand, screen lit up with message after message from Noah.

NOAH: “I was gonna pick you up but guess what the fuck I found out?”

NOAH: “You’re with Matt? Are you fucking serious right now?”

NOAH: “Tell him to enjoy it while it lasts.”

NOAH: “Get outside. Now.”

Matt looked over at you, sitting at the edge of his bed, his expression clouded with concern. “You don’t have to go, you know…” he said quietly.

You gave him a small, forced smile and shook your head. “It’s fine. I’ll text him later. It’s just Noah being—Noah.”

Matt sat up more. “He doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“I’ll handle it, Matt.” Your voice cracked at the end, and you hated that he noticed.

You left the house a few minutes later, walking down the porch steps slowly, trying to steady your breath. Noah was already waiting in his car, engine running. You climbed in, pulling the door shut gently behind you. He didn’t say a word for the first minute. Just drove—fast.

“Really?” he finally muttered, jaw tense. “Matt’s house? Again?”

“I was just helping—he’s been going through stuff, Noah—”

He hit the brakes harder than needed at a red light. “You think I don’t see what’s going on? You think I’m stupid?”

“No, I—Noah, please just listen to me,” you said, reaching over, your voice trembling slightly.

“No. You’re gonna listen to me now.” He looked over, eyes dark. “If you ever pull that shit again—going behind my back to be with him—I swear to God, I’ll tell your dad about the time I had to sneak you back in drunk after Ava’s party. You remember that night, right?”

Your throat tightened.

“You think he’d be okay knowing his perfect little girl was throwing up in my car and couldn’t even walk straight?” he sneered. “You think he’d let you out of the house again after that?”

Tears burned behind your eyes. “Noah…please don’t. That wasn’t—don’t do that.”

He leaned closer, his voice low and cruel. “Then don’t make me.”

You nodded quickly, swallowing back the tears, voice breaking as you whispered, “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Noah. I didn’t mean to upset you. I promise I won’t go back.”

“Good girl,” he muttered coldly, sitting back in his seat as the light turned green. “Just remember who actually gives a fuck about you.”

And you just nodded again, looking down at your hands, heart pounding, too scared to say anything else.

You got home after school, your body heavy with everything that had happened. You didn’t even bother taking your shoes off—just dropped your bag by the door and made your way upstairs. You felt like you could still hear Noah’s voice in your head, laced with anger and manipulation, and you hated how small it made you feel.

Your phone lit up just as you flopped down on your bed. Matt. You stared at his name for a second before answering, lifting the phone to your ear with a soft, “Hey…”

“Hey,” he breathed, his voice a little hesitant at first. “I just wanted to check in. You okay?”

You hesitated. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” There was a pause, then, “You didn’t seem fine when you left.”

You swallowed hard, turning onto your side. “It’s nothing, Matt.”

“I don’t believe that.”

You didn’t answer.

“I’m serious,” he said, more firm this time. “What happened? What did he say to you?”

“Matt—”

“No. You’re not gonna shut down on me. Tell me what he said.”

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, heart pounding. And then, like a dam breaking, your voice cracked. “He said… if I kept going to see you, he’d tell my dad about Ava’s party. About when I came home drunk.”

You could hear the silence on the other end of the line, the way Matt’s breathing suddenly slowed and thickened like he was holding in a hundred words.

“He used it against me, Matt,” you said, voice small. “He threatened me with it. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do.”

Matt finally spoke, his tone tight and sharp. “That’s not normal. That’s not okay. You know that, right?”

You blinked up at the ceiling, eyes stinging. “I just… I didn’t want to fight. I wanted it to stop.”

“No,” Matt said firmly. “You can’t let him treat you like that. That’s not love. That’s control. You shouldn’t ever feel scared of someone who’s supposed to care about you.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“No, I don’t think you do,” he said, softer now, but still steady. “You’re so used to people walking all over you that you think it’s just part of being in a relationship. It’s not.”

You stayed quiet again, his words echoing in your head.

“I would never do that to you,” he added. “Ever.”

“I know,” you whispered again, tears now slipping down your cheeks. “I know, Matt.”

There was a long pause, and then he said, “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know? Even if you don’t want to be with me, I’m still gonna be here. Because I care. So much more than you realize.”

And this time, you didn’t say anything—you just cried.

—

A/N- FINALLY SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THEM.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn @ivysturnss @ilovemenwithlonghairr @whore4-chrissturniolo

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

What if I just sat on ur face

AMARAAAAA

ADIRAAAAAAA HI BABYY

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝒐𝒗𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 - day 1

... in which you teach chris about the menstrual cycle, and he takes advantage of it <3333 ... cw smut, eating out, p in v, fluff

You’re sitting on Chris’s bed, legs crossed, doing your nails, while he scrolls through something on his phone next to you. You’re in the kind of mood where you feel like narrating everything out loud.

“I think I’m in my follicular phase right now. My brain's been so clear and focused all day,” you mumble, not really paying attention to him.

Chris glances over. “Your what phase?” 

You look at him like… seriously? “Follicular. It’s part of the menstrual cycle.”

He shifts to sit up a bit, setting his phone down. “What? There’s like different phases? I thought it was like– period or not period,” he says, chuckling.

You raise a brow. “The education system might’ve failed you then, the fuck? Do some research, then talk to me seriously.”

“No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. Can you tell me about it? I should’ve known,” he says, feeling pretty bad. “I didn’t know there were… phases.”

You lean back on your hands. “Fine. There are four. First one’s menstrual— that’s the actual period, obviously. Hormones, everything hurts, I feel like shit, and everyone feels stupid and annoying.

Chris nods. “Okay yeah. That one I know,” he says meaningfully, but jokingly. You wack him in the shoulder, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m a mess on my period.” 

“Second is follicular,” you continue. “That’s right after. Estrogen starts rising again, so I start feeling more normal, more energy, more focus, less emotional. I actually get stuff done and feel kind of okay being alive.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “So you’re in that one now?”

You nod. “Yeah. I cleaned my room, finished like three assignments, and didn’t cry over anything dumb. That’s pretty rare if you ask me.”

He smiles a little at that. “Nice. What’s next?”

“Ovulation,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Hormones spike. It’s when the egg drops, so your body goes into reproduction mode. Which basically means I feel confident, really flirty… and umm…”

You pause, trying to phrase it right, then you give up. “Kind of stupidly horny for five days straight.” 

Chris blinks. “Wait. Horny for five days?”

You just stare at him. “Yes.”

He squints, thinking really hard. “So you get, like… scheduled freak mode.”

You smirk, shrugging. “I can’t help it. My body just... gets ideas.”

He nods slowly, grin widening. “That explains so much. Is that why you’re always all up on me wh–”

You grab a pillow and launch it at him. “Shut up!” 

It hits him in the face, but he tosses it away, still grinning. “I’m just saying! This is useful information. You should’ve told me earlier,” he continues, wiggling his eyebrows.

You cringe jokingly, but you swear your face turns 5 shades darker. “You’re so annoying”

He grins. “You’re getting flustered.”

You scoff. “I am not flustered.”

He leans in a little, smug. “Mhm.”

Then he pauses, thinking. “Wait, so if you’re in your follicular thing now… ovulation’s in, like, a few days, right?”

You squint at him. “Yeah… why?”

He shrugs, totally unfazed. “I dunno. You always get kinda clingy around this time of the month. All makes sense now.”

You stare. “You tracked my cycle without even knowing what it was?”

He just smirks. “I pay attention.”

You shake your head in disbelief, grabbing your stuff to go shower. “And here I was thinking you were just an uneducated idiot,” you mutter on your way out.

____________________________________________________________________________

DAY 1

It's been a couple days since that uh— educational conversation with him, and you’ve forgotten all about it, along with the fact that you were just starting to ovulate. But Chris– he hasn’t. He’s been plotting since, and he’s got you right where he wants you.

It’s 10PM-ish, and you just got home from a night out with you and Chris’ friend group. The night was still young, but the two of you figured you’d call it early and go home. You just finished showering, and you sit on in his bed, on your phone

He walks out of the bathroom with damp hair, water dripping from the ends, and a towel wrapped low around his waist. The sight makes you glance up instinctively, and for a second, you freeze—your eyes trailing from his bare chest to the towel just barely hanging on. His v lines and prominent, leaving not much for imagination

Your mind goes to the most diabolical, filthy places—woah—you snap out of it, trying to focus somewhere else.

He notices the way you stop scrolling and look at him. Grinning, he leans against the doorframe, watching you with amusement. “What?” he asks, voice teasing, like he already knows exactly what’s going through your mind.

You try to act normal, but your brain is short-circuiting. “Uh, nothing,” you say quickly, trying to shift your gaze back to your phone. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Just tired?” he repeats, standing straight up and walking towards you on the bed. His tone has heavy undertones, and you swear to god you have a visceral reaction. 

All your muscles clench, and you feel shivers climb up your spine. Your eyes go from scanning his body up and down to looking into his eyes, then scanning him up and down again, then back to his eyes.

He just knowingly grins, stopping right at the edge of the bed where you sat, looking up at him. His hand reaches out to cradle your face, snaking around to brush hair out of your face. 

“Today was a long day, wasn’t it,” he murmurs, voice low and quiet. You sigh into his touch, unable to look anywhere but his eyes right now, as they bored into you with dark passion.

You nod quietly, lifting your hands up to rest on his hips. It’s almost absurd how much lust you feel pulsing through your core, your insides clenching around nothing.

Silently, Chris smirks and fiddles with the bottom of your tank top, asking permission to take it off.

Without hesitation, you lift your arms up for him to take it off. It's night, so you’re not wearing a bra, and his eyes darken at the sight. 

Your hands roam around his waist and the rim of his towel, trailing your nails on the side.

You feel like you’re on some kind of drug, the way your breathing stalls and hitches. The bulge in front of your face is growing, and you gently reach out to trace around it, earning a sigh from Chris.

Gently, he pushes you back onto the bed until he’s resting on top of you, in between your legs. He bends down to your breasts, sucking and nipping on the delicate skin while keeping eye contact with you.

His piercing blue eyes do nothing to help the wetness pooling in your core as he swirls a tongue around a nipple, his hand coming up to massage your other breast.

“Chris…” you practically moan, watching him desperately. “Please, I’m so—” you stop yourself and look away with embarrassment, though one particular flick of his tongue makes you gasp, your hand flying to his hair.

You’re usually never this sensitive, and you can’t help but love it. He chuckles darkly at your state, then helps you pull your pajama shorts and panties down, lifting your hips to help.

With a quick motion, he unfastens his towel from his waist, his dick springing up.

You eye it down with lust, staring at the glistening tip and the precum that gathered on his tip, and you let out an involuntary whimper.

He, unlike the look in his eyes, gently parts your legs by your knees and lifts them up, staring straight at your core. 

You can feel every desperate pulse of yourself, and he can practically see it too. Without warning, he dives his face in, licking a strip up your slit.

You let out a shocked gasp at the contact and arch into it, immediately grinding your hips into his face.

He expertly sucks and licks around your clit, one hand coming to grope your tits again. His other hand goes down to your core, inserting two fingers into you.

He curls it perfectly, hitting your g spot as he continues to sloppily eat you out, spit and arousal dripping down his chin.

You moan loudly as you shove your hands in his hair, both tugging it and trying to bring it closer. He groans in delight, sucking and lapping harder into each fold.

All the while, he’s rubbing his own length against the mattress of the bed, desperately searching for more friction.

You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, but your body isn’t satisfied. You crave even more, and you find yourself sitting up so you can reach forwards and hold his length, bringing it closer to your entrance.

With a chuckle at your desperateness, he lines it up and pushes his mushroom tip in slowly, You sigh with relief, arching your back into him and pulling him closer with your legs.

With a painfully slow motion, he slides fully in, until you feel like you’re so stuffed full you couldn’t talk.

Your walls pulse and clench around him as you adjust to his size— a challenge every time.

“F-fuck chris,” you cry out, trying to rock back and forth and get more friction. He lets out a barely there whimper at the clamping of your pussy around him, rutting back and forth to start the slow pace.

Every time he bottoms out you let out a loud whimper, completely fucked dumb. You’re almost there, but you can tell he needs more by the sweat on his forehead and the groans he’s letting out.

“F-faster, please,” you say breathily, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as he hovered over you.

He abides with no hesitation, giving you one quick thrust that hits your g-stop so deliciously you let out a guttural cry, your walls greedily pulling him in for more.

Giving you no time to recover, he pushes straight into you again, continuing at a pace that leaves you crying and gasping for breath. Your eyes are screwed shut in ecstacy, but you force yourself to open them just to watch him above you.

His mouth is slightly parted, cheeks flushed, and eyes so full of lust you practically come right then and there.

His becomes harder and more erratic as he reaches his high, his nails digging into your shoulders.

“Oh my– fuck, where do you want me,” he whines, screwing his eyes shut to hold off his orgasm. 

“Inside,” you respond, barely audible through the moans you can’t stop from coming out of your mouth.

The band in your stomach gets tighter and tighter, and one last look at his face pushes you over the edge. Your body seizes up and clenches around him impossibly tight.

With one last grunt, he imbeds himself deep into you, painting your walls. His arms collapse and his face falls into the crook of your neck.

He lets out the loudest sequence of whimpers and right into your ear, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever done in his life. 

The two of you sort of just melt into each other, aftershocks still passing through your body. He presses little nips and kisses onto your shoulder.

“That was the best fuckin— fuck, I love you,” he mumbles into your skin.

Chris gently pulls out of you, and you feel fluids practically spill out of you.

You whimper from the sensitivity, then just lay there, breathing heavily.

“Jesus. y/n,” Chris groans, getting up to help you stand up. You protest briefly, and he shushes you.

“Let's go shower, m’kay?” you nod dumbly, unable to form coherent sentences.

As you walk over to the washroom, you find it in yourself to speak. 

“Chris, I don’t think I’ve ever needed you that bad,” you say, in awe and laughing. “I must be—”

He looks over with a laugh at your discovery. “Oh my god I’m ovulating aren’t I? You freak!” you yell, slapping him on the shoulder.

“I told you it was useful information,” he says while grinning, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Day 1,” he adds, winking. 

this is going to be a 3 part smut/fluff series where y/n is just ovulating the whole time <3

taglist - @sturniolosrtewsexy @sturnbrooke @emely9274 @babytomatoes21 @arianna1342 @gemzyy @namelesssav @chestersturn @ellieluvssturniolos @tits4matt @vanteguccir @luke8989 @matt-sturnioloo @glee2skkii @riggysworld @sturnslux3 @cass-sturn @auttysturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @chrismakesmewet @whore4chris @sturns-mermaid @eeyoresturnz

yay!

dividers by @enchanthings 

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

「 matt loves overstimulating you with his tongue ᵎᵎ 」

smut, eating out, cursing, pet names, overstimulation

lewd noises of matt’s tongue against your wet pussy filled the sounds of his bedroom, his mouth working your aching hole relentlessly as you desperately clawed at the white sheets beneath you.

he was perched between your legs, kneeling on the floor and holding you down by your hips as you laid back flat against his bed, squirming and writhing beneath his grip.

“c’mon sweetheart, you’ve been so good f’me,” he muttered into your cunt, his blue eyes darkening with lust as he flicked them upwards to yours.

you peered down at him, your expression fucked out as your jaw hung agape, obscene noises escaping your throat as his lips found their way to your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive nerves.

“matt,” you managed to gasp out, “feels good.”

“mhmmm,” he purred against your folds, tilting his head to get a better angle, his face practically buried in your pussy just how he liked, “always make my girl feel good, don’t i?”

you nodded in response, the sensation and heat pooling in your stomach taking over your ability to speak. instead, loud cried and moans left your parted lips, bouncing off the bedroom walls.

he had been in between your legs for god only knows how long, getting you to cum on his tongue over and over again. if you let him, matt could probably spend the rest of his life in between your plush thighs with his face in your cunt.

“fuck,” you whined as a particular flick of his tongue had you seeing stars, “think ‘m gonna cum again.”

“go ahead,” matt grunted, keeping up the pace, “i’ll stay here all night.”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ wrote this a few days ago and decided to post after lurking so long 🫣 hope everyone likes!

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

chris fucking you rough

the bed creaks with every rough thrust of chris’s hips slamming into yours.

his hands grip your hips as you moan pathetically into the pillow, his grunts accompanying your noises. he leans over, his chest pressing against your back. his pace doesn’t slow as he whispers shakily into your ear. “feels—feels good huh?”

all you can do is nod briefly, your eyes squeezed shut as your jaw falls slack.

his pace slows, and he snakes one of his hands to grab your jaw, tilting your head back slightly to look at him. you look up at him a bit dazed. “wha—why’d you stop?” “need y’to tell me how it feels.” he says, his eyes boring into yours.

“chris—cmon—“ you begin to mumble out, your eyebrows knitting together before you interrupt yourself. “it feels good, really good.”

as soon as you say that he smirks, his hand dropping your face back to the bed. his pace picks up, rougher and faster than before.

your eyes squeeze shut as the tip of his dick repeatedly hits the spot that makes you see stars. he leans back up, both of his hands on your hips again.

“y’feel so—fuckk—so good,” chris groans, his eyelids fluttering when he feels your walls clench around him.

the noises are lewd—his hips slapping against yours with reckless abandon. tears of pleasure fall from your eyes. “shh, shh, s’alright,” chris hushes you weakly, clearly struggling himself. he’s panting lightly, each breath coming out more as a moan.

“chris—mm fuck i’m close—“ you stammer out, barley able to form a sentence.

“i—i know baby, fu-fuck, cmon,” chris almost whimpers out before reaching a hand down to rub tight circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge. you practically wail out at the extra stimulation and your legs shake uncontrollably as you cum around his dick.

chris groans at the sight, his pace never faltering. he can’t hold back anymore; his hips still and his dick buried deep inside you, releasing warm ropes of hot cum in your pussy.

a/n: this is ass so sorry

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

❝ Take it All ❞

SUMMARY . . . Chris and Matt want you to take them both, they want you to take it all.

CONTAINS . . . Smut, p n v, unprotected sex, 3some, Matt x Chris x Reader, blowjobs, gagging

You’re stuffed full, from both ends.

Chris has his dick nuzzled in your mouth, the ridges of his cock gliding against the roof of your mouth as you hum with delight. You can feel the pleasure between your legs. Matt is pumping himself in and out of you, grasping your hips tightly as he drags your body to meet each of his thrusts. 

“God, baby,” Chris husks, his head thrown back as the words strain out of his mouth. The sensation of your drool pooling all over the base of his dick makes everything feel more intense, like there’s nothing to exist for besides being a vessel of pleasure. And you’re not far behind. 

On all fours, you’re settled in the middle of the bed, your elbows planted on the mattress as your hands grasp onto Chris’ thighs. You gag while trying to take more of his length down your throat, the sheer force of Matt’s relentless hips making you fall further forward than intended. 

“Oh, fuck!” Chris gasps, the sheer determination of your actions making his hand twist painfully tight in your hair. He loosens the grip within an instant, trying to massage over the area as he keeps moaning louder and louder. 

It’s hard to focus on anything. Chris has a face that’s heavenly when contorted with such euphoria, but the feeling of Matt drilling into your pussy makes you weak—so weak that your knees start to slide, your legs buckling before nearly falling flat on the bed.

“Ah-ah,” Matt tuts, tapping your hips before gripping them tighter, dragging them back up into the perfect position, “-c’mon, princess. Take it. You’re doing so good for us, just a little longer, yeah?”

You nod dumbly, gagging as Chris’ cock drives to the back of your throat way too quickly. He’s unable to keep his hips still, the overwhelming pleasure making him helpless as he chases the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him. 

And you’re taking it—you’re taking it all. 

Comment to be added to the taglist, follow along for more, and let me know your thoughts <333

Find more of my work here.

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

「 cockwarming chris on stream ᵎᵎ 」

smut, slight exhibitionism, pet names

“right there! right there! chris behind you!” matt’s voice was loud through chris’ headset, his gaze focused on the computer monitor in front of him. the soft blue glow of the screen cast a cool light over chris’ sharp facial features, his focused expression making your panties pool with anticipation.

you slowly sauntered over to chris from his bed, standing behind him as you ducked your head down to be in frame of the stream, the chat immediately lighting up upon your arrival.

“hi baby,” chris muttered up at you, giving you a warm smile before turning back to the game, “we’re streaming duos, wanna come watch?”

you nodded, plopping yourself down onto his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his embrace. his arms stayed put on your waist, his grip on firm while he continued his game.

with each jerk and sudden movement, you began to grow more and more desperate until you couldn’t take it anymore. chris wasn’t doing too well either, you on his lap in your little pajama set causing his dick to strain against his sweats.

after a couple more minutes of playing, chris was sniped, leaving matt to finish out the round himself.

“chat i’m going to the bathroom, i’ll be back,” chris announced to the stream, turning off his mic and camera before burying his face into your neck, mouthing at the exposed skin.

“wan’ you so bad right now baby,” he mumbled as he pressed kisses to the crevices of where your neck and shoulder met.

you hummed in response, tilting your head to allow better access. “i want you too,” you sighed softly.

“here,” he grumbled, lifting you up and shimmying your shorts down, leaving you in your soaked panties, “come sit.”

he was quick to free himself of his sweats and boxers, his dick springing, his tip red and leaking. you nodded as he moved your panties to the side, guiding you to sink down on his cock, your gummy walls squeezing around his length.

he switched the camera and microphone back on, his demeanor doing a complete turn as he returned back to his game, acting as if he dick wasn’t inside of you with twenty thousand people watching.

you watched some more as chris and matt played round after round, any movement of your hips against his driving you both crazy. you kept trying to motion to chris to get off the game and do something, but he continued his game like no big deal.

after one particular round was over, you were practically grinding down on his cock, desperate for any sort of relief.

“baby,” he whispered into your ear, “sit and be a good girl, i’ll take care of you later, ‘kay?”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ need this soo bad.

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

brat!reader teases dilf!brat tamer!chris over the phone.⟢

“hello?” you answered sweetly, swinging your legs back and forth as you laid on top of the fluffy sheets of your bed on your tummy, grinning from ear to ear as you heard the voice on the other side of the phone speak.

“hi, dollie.” chris smirked, adjusting his sitting position, manspreading his legs and resting his back against the couch, letting out a long sigh. “how was your day, baby?”

he closes his eyes as he listens to you ramble about your day. chuckling softly as you went on about the bakery near the campus, imagining you prancing around in the newest skirt he had bought you over the weekend.

“oh! and i tried out their coffee…” he pictured your lips on the cup, leaving behind a glossy kiss print, making him throw his head back, his free hand running down to rub the growing tent in his sweatpants.

a soft sound left his lips, stroking and squeezing himself through the layers of fabric. your ears perked up at the sound of his sighs, biting your glossy bottom lip and feeling your heat ache with need.

“also went to our favorite store today.” you spoke in that honey-like tone of yours, twirling a piece of hair around your manicured finger, then dragging it down the valley of your breasts as you settled yourself onto your back.

“oh yeah?” he began tugging down his sweatpants, pulling his calvin kleins along with them, groaning as his eyes lingered on his throbbing cock that sprung up, resting against his t-shirt covered stomach. “what did you buy, hm?”

“a new lace thong… it’s pink and it’s got a bunny tail.” your giggle sent a shiver down his spine, wrapping his hand firmly around his cock, shakingly sighing as he began pumping his shaft, his lower tummy tense.

“yeah? you gonna wear it f’me next time?” he gave his leaking dick deliberate strokes, hissing at the torture he was putting himself through by twisting his wrist, applying pressure to his mushroom shaped head.

“yes daddy.” your soft whines and gasps made his cock twitch. he let go, his eyes lingering on his throbbing dick, watching as he messingily came all over himself, grunting and groaning.

his eyebrows furrowed, mouth dry and open, confused at how fucking fast he came by just the sound of your voice. he scoffed, shaking his head— he had it bad for you.

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

note ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ this was written back in early march… lwk ass my bad.

for. the biggest dilf!chris lover @ifwdominicfike and huge brat tamer freak (lover in kind words) @delilahsturniolo 😽

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

STAR GIRL .ᐟ

sub reader x dom chris, chris helps you relieve some stress from studying

based on this ask | pet names, oral (f receiving), chris puts gold stars on reader

You were currently having a study session at Chris’ house, sitting on his bed with a course book on your lap as you ran your finger over the words, trying to comprehend the subject. Chris, on the other hand, was bored of scrolling on his phone, his head leaning over your shoulder, nuzzling against you. “Ma, come on…don’t you wanna take a break?” he whispered, his hand moving to try and close the book you held. “Chris, I have to focus,” you said, your eyes not leaving the book as you squirmed, adjusting your position. Chris scoffed dramatically as he sat up, moving your hair to the side, baring your bare neck to him. “Baby, you've been at that for hours,” he whispers, peppering kisses along your skin. You tried to focus on your studies, but his touch was so addictive that you felt the textbook slipping from your fingers as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

“My beautiful girl…” he said between kisses, his lips attaching to your collarbone as he marked you. “You’re so smart, ma.” his hands traveled under your shirt, caressing the underside of your breasts. Letting out a soft moan, you relaxed into the mattress, you hated to admit, but you needed this; you had been studying all day. “I'm going to take such good care of you baby,” his hands moved under your shirt massaging your boobs. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he whispered after he had you all undressed, lying in front of his hungry gaze. “Chris, please…” You whined as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs. His hands move to spread your legs wider. “Gonna make you forget all about your studying,” he whispered, dragging his tongue along your wet slit. Groaning in satisfaction at your taste, his tongue swirled around your aching clit. “Taste so sweet ma,” he murmed his lips closing over your bud as he gently sucked. You were on cloud nine, the stress of the day left your body immediately after he started eating you out. He always knew just what you needed and when you needed it, he moved his tongue down your slit as he teased your entrance.

His hands prying your legs open further, thumbs tracing soothing circles on your thighs. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmured against your skin. Your face was flushed, eyes rolled back to the back of your head, as he slid his tongue into your entrance. “Fuck…” you gasped your hands finding their way into his brunette locks tugging gently. The growing stubble on his face was scratching against your soft skin, but you didn’t care, not when he was making you feel this good. You subtly grinned your hips against his face feeling his thumb applying pleasure on your clit. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, pressing kisses on your inner thighs where they were slight red marks from his stubble rubbing against you. His fingers were deep inside you, tongue circling your clit, your legs shaking slightly. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered, coming up and hovering over you to place a wet kiss on your flushed lips. “See how sweet you taste?” he asked, pushing his fingers even deeper inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. 

A few minutes later, you had come all over his fingers. Your body felt limp as you lay there trying to catch your breath. Chris pulled his fingers from inside you and rubbed your slick over your lips, causing you to taste yourself. “Did so well…” he trailed off, helping you sit up and straddle his lap. “Want a sticker, baby?” he asked, seeing you bury your face in his shoulder. He lifted your head slightly, pressing a few kisses all over your flushed face. “Here’s a star for my good girl,” he whispered, placing a gold star on the tip of your nose. You were too tired to say anything, just gave him a small smile before snuggling up to him once more.

note: cleaning out my drafts

tags: @itsmaddielouis @oliviasthatgirl @scorpio1205 @brianna-grace12 @mattsplaything @courta13 @conspiracy-ash @anyaa2s @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @immaqulate @t0riiiis @heartsonlyforchris @blushsturns @hearts4werka @chrisfawns @sweetshuga @leoslaboratory @pair-of-pantaloons @riasturns @lezleeferguson-120 @sturnsflirt @sturnsblogs @fratbrochrisgf @mi-co-uk @sturniolohohoho @tezzzzzzzz

[chrxsprettygirlbookshelf]

something bad | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after months of built up frustration, chris is dying for relief - and y/n is willing to help.

warnings: SMUT; established friendship; unprotected p in v; oral (f and m receiving); handjob; teasing; dirty talk; mentions of jorking it; biting; cream pie; 18+

notes: teehee im ovulating and my roster is weak rn so my only solution is to read smutty books and write even smuttier one shots. this one actually had me giggling and kicking my feet as i was writing it bc i tried to include some of chris's POV (holy shit i am SO down bad for him rn) so i hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it ;) LOVE U ALL SO MUCH <3

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

He hadn’t meant to end up in this situation. Not strung out, touch starved, and half-hard just from the soft brush of his pyjama pants against his front as he slipped them on. But that’s exactly where he was. Walking back into his bedroom after getting changed in his washroom while you, his best friend, curled up in his bed wearing an oversized t-shirt that kept riding up your thighs. Your soft legs were bare, and even in the shadowed room he could see the silhouette of your pebbled nipples beneath your shirt — a clear indicator that you weren’t wearing a bra.

The past few months had been brutal for Chris. He hadn’t touched a woman, hadn’t been touched by a woman since his last situationship ended in a fiery wreck. It had been months of sexual frustration with no outlet besides nights spent alone with his fist clenched desperately around himself, thinking about things he shouldn’t. Something he could barely admit to himself was that sometimes those thoughts involved you. A lot of times, actually. Especially after nights just like this one, where you laid innocently just inches from him.

This night had been especially trying, because his eyes kept catching on parts of you he should never notice. The plush curve of your ass when you bent over to retrieve a fallen blanket. The sliver of your lower stomach, the soft cotton material of your pink boy shorts as you stretched. Even the feminine silhouette of your collarbone as it protruded from the stretched collar of your t-shirt made his head spin. Each time he noticed these things, he dragged his eyes away and cursed himself. He would never act on these thoughts. He couldn’t. You two were best friends, and crossing that line would lead to risking everything.

Yet somehow, each time his eyes were inevitably pulled back to you, that line kept blurring.

With a soft sigh, he slipped into his side of the bed, forcing his eyes to focus on the television screen as you flipped through movies on Netflix. Still focused on the screen, you subconsciously slid closer to him for warmth, your thigh pressing lightly against his. Casual, he reminded himself as his mouth dried. Except, every inch of your soft skin burned against his like a red-hot brand. His cock twitched in his pants, and with another sigh he shifted slightly, trying to adjust himself without being obvious.

“I swear to god, if you sigh one more time,” Your voice made him jump, “I’m just gonna have to assume you’re dying.” He shot a quick glance your way, trying to determine whether your body language showed you knew what was wrong with him. It didn’t seem to give anything away, however, as you hadn’t even looked away from the TV. Satisfied and slightly relieved, he huffed out a soft laugh, rubbing a trembling hand across his face. “Not dying,” He replied with a strained chuckle, “Just, suffering.” Your eyes darted to him quickly, before returning to the screen. “Oh good,” You deadpanned, “That’s not vague at all.”

He shot you another sideways glance, except this time it was caught by you. There was a small fire burning behind his blue eyes, a fire that you weren’t used to seeing. “Am I supposed to beg you to explain or…” The tone of your voice made his cock leap once again, this time followed by an anxious flip of his stomach. He knew you were relentless when you wanted to get information from him — particularly information about any issues he may be going through, as he had a tendency to try to keep them bottled up — but could he really have this conversation with you right now, with his cock pressing against his thigh; its length so hard he could cry out in pain?

You had turned all of your attention to him now, and he felt as though your gaze was piercing through his inner-most being. There was no way you were going to back down now, so with a deep breath, he decided to share at least part of the truth as nonchalant as he possibly could. “You ever go so long without sex that you start having actual withdrawal symptoms?” Once the words left his mouth, he felt his heart rate spike as your brows lifted, the small smirk pulling at the corner your plush lips showing your amusement. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

He rolled his eyes. “I wish I wasn’t serious,” He leaned back against the headboard, letting all the air out of his lungs as he gave in to the humiliation of this conversation. “It’s been months, Y/n. Like, actual calendar months.” You let out a soft giggle, causing him to groan. “You seriously haven’t gotten laid since…” You let your sentence trail off, knowing that he didn’t need the reminder. “Don’t do that,” He groaned, scrubbing his eyes awkwardly, “You’ll make it worse.”

Another laugh fell from your lips as you took in his embarrassment. Enjoying this moment maybe too much, you continued poking fun at him. “Well yeah. That’s kinda what happens when you’re as emotionally unavailable as you are.” He pinched one eye open to glare at you. “Thanks,” He muttered dryly, “That makes me feel a lot better.” With another laugh, you nudged him softly with your knee, “I’m sorry Chris, you’re the one who brought it up.”

He let out a short, bitter chuckle. “I know, it’s just…” He paused, and you sat in silence as you waited for him to continue, “I don’t know. I just feel like a horny teenager lately, like I’m crawling out of my skin. Like I need something bad, just to take the edge off.” Another silence passed between you, and very slowly, you felt the mood begin to shift in the room. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You finally asked, your voice softer than before. He replied in the form of a shrug. “What was I supposed to say to you? ‘Hey, I’m so horny that jerking off three times a night isn’t even cutting it’? We’re best friends, Y/n, but we don’t exactly make it a habit to talk to each other about our sexual frustration.”

Your throat had dried up, and all you could reply with was a simple hum in acknowledgement. The mood had shifted even more as you watched Chris’s bare chest rise and fall on the bed beside you. It was the kind of shift you feel more than you see. You adjusted slightly, straightening yourself and chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. After clearing your throat, you spoke in a thin voice. “You know, I could help you with that.”

He scoffed, but he hoped you couldn’t see his length jump under the covers. “Don’t joke like that.” You rolled your eyes, already feeling your body react in anticipation. “Who’s joking?” You replied, your serious expression unchanging. He pulled his hands away from his face and looked at you — really looked at you — and for a second, all of the playful banter between you two faded into silence. He recognized a soft look of playfulness in your eyes, but there was something else laced within them, too. Something much more daring. Much more dangerous.

“You’re serious.” It was an honest question, but it came out like a statement. You shrugged, tilting your head to the side slightly. “You’re my best friend, and you’re obviously going through it.” His breath hitched, and he released a nervous chuckle. “That’s not exactly a casual offer, Y/n.” His eyes dropped to your lips for just a moment, but you kept your gaze on him. “I didn’t make it casually.”

He watched in awe as you shifted closer to him just a little, your bent knees brushing gently against his leg. “You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it before?” You added, your voice a low and tempting whisper. He didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked down from your mouth to your chest, to the curve of your bare thighs folded gingerly beneath you, back up to your steady gaze.

“I’ve thought about it,” He replied after an agonizing pause, his voice rough, “Too many times.” He watched as your lips turned up in a tempting smile from his confession, and with a pounding chest he waited, wild eyed, for you to reply. “Maybe I’ve thought about it too.” You replied, slow and honest. That made him pause. Really pause. He looked at you again, drank you in. The dim light from the television cut delicate shadows across your exposed skin, and the loose collar of your shirt had slipped slightly off of one shoulder. You were his best friend, he saw the familiarity in all of your features, but the air between you both had grown so charged that he felt as though he was in the presence of a goddess, and that realization sucked the air right out of his chest.

“You have?” He finally managed to croak out. You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. “Sure I have. You’re pretty easy on the eyes, Chris.” He choked out a laugh, before letting out a low groan from the tempting proposition. “Oh Jesus,” He dragged a hand down his face. “What if it makes everything weird?” He asked, though he already knew he had traveled too close to the sun, and there was no way he was going to be able to back down. “What if it makes things better?” You countered, voice soft.

For just a moment, you two just stared at each other, gauging just how far you were going to take this. And then slowly — so, so slowly — you leaned forward, just a little. Not enough to touch, just enough to let him feel the warmth of your body. His breath quickened as he watched your eyes flick to his lips, then back to his eyes.

Still, you didn’t close the gap.

You were leaving it up to him.

His fingers curled into the sheets, each digit needy for the feeling of your skin under them. “Fuck,” He whispered, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He heard your breath catch from the hunger in his tone, felt the smallest shift in your posture as you struggled to keep him at arms length. You were hovering above him now, your lips so close to his own that he felt them curl into a smirk. “I think I do.”

His dilated eyes searched yours — and something unspoken passed between you. He reached up and tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear, letting his fingers slowly brush against your cheek. You allowed yourself to lean into his touch, eyes fluttering shut, before asking in an almost-whisper, “What are you waiting for?”

His breath hitched in his throat. For another second, he hesitated. Not out of doubt, but rather to savour the look of needy anticipation across your face, just centimetres from his own. He wanted that image of your flushed cheeks and knit brows burned into his memory forever. So when he finally leaned in, it was slow — deliberate. No matter how badly he wanted you, needed you, he felt the need to give you the chance to change your mind.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you met him halfway.

His lips brushed against yours — just a test. The kiss was soft, hesitant, and foreign. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that it was your lips that he held against his own, your taste against his tongue. And it scared him. Not because it felt wrong. Not at all. It scared him because it felt right. So when you pressed in, he responded as if he’d been holding his breath for months. One of his hands knit into your hair, and the other cupped your jaw as he pulled you down on him fully.

In the blink of an eye, the kiss deepened. No more caution. No more nerves. It quickly turned into the kind of kiss that spoke louder than words ever could. You released a soft moan into his mouth, satisfied by how much pleasure he was giving you. He groaned low in response, his thumb brushing against your cheek softly as he shifted closer; his body pressing harshly against yours. You parted your lips and he took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth and swallowing your soft whines of approval.

He allowed his hands to explore your trembling body as his mouth, hot and hungry, consumed you. You melted into his touch, letting your body relax against his and releasing another soft moan at the feeling of his strained hardness pressing against your core. Your breath hitched as his hand slid along the curve of your spine, reaching your plush ass and pressing it down against his front — his moan as your ass slid against his length fuelled you.

He broke the kiss first, gasping for air as you rolled your hips gently against him. When he looked at you, he released a strained laugh at your messy hair; mussed from where his fingers had slid into it. “You look crazy.” His voice was shaky, the arousal pumping through his veins at full force. You snorted, dropping your forehead against his as you continued to slowly rock your hips; his hands subconsciously guiding your movements. “Great, you bully me after pulling me into your lap.” He arched a brow at you before peppering soft kisses against your jaw, down your neck. “Did I pull, or did you climb?”

Soft moans floated from your mouth as his lips danced across your skin. “I think it was mutual.” You replied breathlessly, losing yourself in the pleasure. His lips trapped yours once more. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your swollen lips meshed with his. But you knew he needed more. Needed your lips to make him feel good elsewhere. So you lowered your mouth to his sharp jaw, taking your time as you dragged your tongue along his body until you reached his protruding hip bones.

He stayed as still as he possibly could, terrified that one wrong movement would put a stop to everything, as you gripped the waistband of his pyjamas and tugged. He lifted his hips without saying a word, eyes locked hungrily on yours, and let you strip him. Once you removed his boxers, his cock sprang free — thick, leaking, and pressed taut against his stomach. You paused to look at him, really look at him, and bit your lip at the sight.

“Jesus, Chris, you’ve been holding out on me here.”

He laughed breathlessly, feeling a wave of pride at the sheer lust hidden behind your comment. “I would have shown you it anytime, if you asked sooner.” Your smile was slow and wicked as he watched you sit on your knees in between his legs. “Well if I had known what you were working with down here I just might have,” You wrapped your hand around his thick length, making him hiss in relief, “Should’ve told me.” You added in a low whisper.

“I didn’t think I could have you.” He replied honestly, watching with a slacked jaw as you slowly worked his length. “You still don’t,” You replied with a teasing glance up at his flushed face, “I’m letting you borrow me.” He was about to roll his eyes and fire back something cocky when you wrapped your warm mouth around the head of his cock — killing the words before they could pass his lips.

“Fuck,” He groaned softly, his hips immediately jerking upwards. You took him slowly at first, tongue circling his tip while one hand stayed wrapped against his base where it pumped in time with your mouth. Your free hand rested against his thigh, grounding him as you relaxed your throat to allow him to reach deeper into you, inch by inch. The sight of you, mouth filled with his cock, was almost too much for him to handle. With a deep groan, his head dropped back against the pillow while his hands rested limply in your gathered hair.

Coming up for air, you looked up at his angular features with a smirk. You ran your lips against the underside of his shaft, stifling a groan from the feeling of its velvety skin. “Is it everything you dreamed of?” You asked, cracking a sarcastic joke to hide your own desires. He looked down at you and laughed — shaky — stunned by the pleasure and your mockery all at once. “You’re evil.” He groaned, dying for the warmth of your mouth. You giggled softly. “Shut up, I’m generous.”

Before he could reply, you took him deep again, humming around him, making his head spin. His hands involuntarily tightened in your hair, and you took it as a sign to go faster. Hollowed cheeks, you began bobbing your head with intent. He watched as your eyes flicked up and locked with his own, and the glint of danger within them nearly undid him.

“Fuck, I — I’m close,” He gasped, feeling his cock swell in your mouth. As soon as he spoke, you pulled off of him with a wet pop, wiping your mouth quickly before climbing back onto his lap before he could react. “Not yet.” You replied, voice gritty with lust. His hands fell to your thighs as you quickly peeled off your shirt, revealing to him parts of you that he had never seen before. His eyes dragged down your body — every new inch somehow familiar and new all at once — and attached his mouth to your hardened nipple as you rolled your warm heat against him in slow, taunting circles.

His hands moved to the back of your thighs, lifting you slightly off of him so that he could run two digits across your clothed centre. “You’re soaked,” He muttered against your tit, voice wrecked, as he felt the slippery fluid that had soaked through your boy shorts. You gasped as he bit down against the sensitive bud before allowing him to slip your underwear off. “I told you,” You panted, the cool air against your heat sending a shiver down your spine, “You weren’t the only one who wanted this.”

And then, in one fluid movement, you sank down onto him.

You both moaned — yours high and breathy, his deep and guttural — as you took him all the way in, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside of you. You were paralyzed for a moment, unable to move as your eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck, Chris. You f-feel —” Your words were caught in your throat as he gripped tightly onto your hips, struggling to stay still as he let your tight walls adjust to his size.

After a moment, you finally began to move — slow, grinding rolls of your hips drew gasps from his parted mouth. Your hands were planted against his chest, nails biting into his skin caused his pleasure to intensify as you rode him. With each rhythmic bounce, a gruff curse fell from his lips. Your heart raced at the sight of Chris so unraveled beneath you, so willing to allow the pleasure you were giving him to show through his knit brows, glazed eyes, and deep moans.

You began riding him in earnest — hips snapping, thighs flexed around his waist. His eyes traveled to your breasts as they bounced in front of him with every movement, and his hands — buried in the plush of your ass — reached up to grab onto them. You leaned forward, allowing him to wrap his mouth around one hungrily, as your pleasure built in your lower stomach. Your moans turned sharper, pleasure breaking through your determination. The sounds you made went straight to his cock as it slipped in and out of your spongey cunt at a pace that pulled him closer and closer to his orgasm.

His hands moved back to your ass, where his fingers dug into your flesh in desperation — to keep you right there, to get you to slow down, he had no idea. “Fuck, Y/n, I’m —” You didn’t even let him finish his strained sentence before slowing your pace back to a slow grind. His eyes shot open, wild and desperate, looking up into your much darker pair. “You’re not gonna cum, are you?” You tilted your head menacingly as you spoke, and the power you had over him in that moment almost scared him. Not because he didn’t trust you. But because he didn’t trust himself.

A groan that came deep from within him spilled from his lips as you continued to barely move on top of him. His cock throbbed inside of you, begging for a release. His hands traveled along your naked body, taking their time on your hips where they attempted to press you harder against him. Looking up at you, he noticed a different look in your eye. The arrogance was still there, but brewing underneath that seemed to be a hint of desperation. Of raw need. Just as he realized that you were torturing yourself just as much as him, that your teasing wasn’t intended to be a tactic of control, your walls seemed to slip for a moment and he saw the silent plea in your eyes.

As if to confirm it further, your hand slid between your thighs, fingers working your clit as he watched you writhe. “D-don’t you dare c-cum.” Your demand came out strained and breathless as you tried to hold onto the control, and although the sight of you struggling made his head spin, he decided to do everything in his power to play along with your little game. “So what,” He began, each word coming out with a struggle, “You wanna cum all over my cock, make a mess while your tight pussy wraps around me? Huh?” His filthy words were a shock to your system, yet your response was nothing more than a sharp moan as they drove you closer to the edge.

Your reaction pulled him even closer, but still you weren’t granting him the release his aching cock needed. Each time he thought he was going to reach that rush of his orgasm, you lifted yourself off of him to keep your own at bay, drawing out the pleasure for both of you to the point of near-pain. This torture continued for what felt like hours until, after one particularly close call, you lifted yourself completely off of his length, trembling in the air where your slick heat was just inches from his face. His eyes locked into the glistening, pink bead, and without a thought he attached his mouth to your swollen clit to keep himself from begging — unwilling to give you the satisfaction.

As his tongue swirled in hungry circles against your bundle of nerves, a sharp cry fell from your lips. Hands raked through his hair, your body detached from your mind as you rolled your hips against his face. Releasing a moan that vibrated against your core, Chris grabbed onto your ass and pulled you up so that you were now straddling his face. Your juices melted against his tastebuds, and he devoured you like he could never get enough. One hand digging into the head board, the other laced through his wavy hair, your legs trembled on either side of him as the threat of your orgasm loomed closer and closer.

Chris felt it in the way your clit swelled against his tongue. Heard it in the way your moans turned animalistic. Saw it in the way your limbs went slack. And just as you were about to give in to the need to come undone, he removed his mouth from your clit and spoke, “Don’t you dare cum.” You looked down at him, shock written all over your face from his use of your words against you as you took in his taunting expression. Your cunt throbbed from the lack of contact, but the look in his eyes that told you he knew exactly what you had been doing caused your stomach to do an excited flip. You had been taunting him, pushing him to his breaking point, so that he could destroy you.

And just like that, once you both locked eyes, he did exactly that.

In a single, fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. “Oh fuck,” Was the last thing that left your lips before he drove his cock into you, hard and deep, drawing a shocked cry from your throat. His strong hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head as he slammed relentlessly into you — done with the teasing, done with the games. He dropped his mouth to your ear, nibbling the lobe before speaking gruffly, “You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”

You released a sharp moan upon each of his thrusts, and practically screamed out once he dug his knees into the mattress, adjusting his angle to make sure that you felt every inch of him. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groaned against your damp skin, already feeling like he could fall apart from the way your walls enveloped him so perfectly. Your back arched at his words, and when he lifted his head to look at you he noticed that the smirk that was previously plastered on your face had been replaced by an overwhelmingly desperate, hungry expression.

Your body was no longer your own. You fell into the trance you had been craving since you first slipped him inside of you. The feeling of being pinned down by him, of allowing him to use you the way he wanted, was intoxicating. And he knew it. As if reading your mind, his mouth dropped to your ear once more. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He licked a stripe from your ear down your neck as you nodded greedily. His hips snapped into you harshly, causing you to release a sharp squeak.

“Tell me how bad.” His voice had dropped an octave since flipping you onto your back, and the sound of it made the hair raise on the back of your neck. A long-winded moan fell from your lips as pressure continued to build in your lower stomach, his cock traveling up inside of you, hitting that spot again and again. “S-so fucking bad.” You replied, each word coming out strained and punctuated by his thrusts. He sucked your neck hungrily, releasing a grunt from your honest admission. His own orgasm was threatening to run through him at any moment, yet he refused to slow down his pace.

“Shit,” He moaned, his voice dragged out in lust. You felt his cock swell inside of you just as he felt your cunt flex around him. His fingers found your clit, where he rubbed tight, frantic circles that made you buck beneath him. “I need you to cum for me. Now.” His words were clipped, his movements wavering slightly though he managed to keep the same speed. The demand, so raw and guttural, was all that you needed to get over the edge. Your eyes snapped open — meeting with his — and your legs tightened around his waist as you cried out; your body jerking beneath him as your orgasm tore through your restrained body.

As you tensed around him, milking his cock so perfectly, he refused to stop. Instead, the sight of you writhing beneath him was enough to grant him the energy to fuck you harder; pushing you through it until you melted into a puddle. He felt his balls tighten as he watched your powerless fingers claw into the head board — imagining them tugging at the roots of his hair or burying themselves into his back. He felt his cock stiffen as his eyes trailed down to your full chest — watching as your tits danced to the rhythm of his thrusts. And then, as you rode the waves of your orgasm, the delicate sound of his name on your lips pushed him over the edge.

He groaned, finally losing all control. “Where do you want me?” His voice was nothing more than a whisper. He was unable to manage anything more than that. But still, through your high, you heard him. Looking into his eyes, you slurred, “Inside me, please.” At your words, he pulled back to slam into you one last time, filling you completely before his throbbing cock painted your trembling walls white. His body jerked with the force of his release, and his harsh thrusts shifted to soft rolls of his hips as he let his orgasm overtake him.

He moaned out your name in broken whispers as he tightened his grip on you, finally reaching the release he had been craving for months, buried deep inside the warm pussy that he had spent many nights fantasizing about. The satisfaction within that realization sent one final wave of pleasure through him, before he finally let his body collapse on top of yours.

You both lay there, sticky bodies tangled together as your heaving chests and spiralling brains slowed down into a gentle lull. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savoured the feeling of Chris’s release as it slowly dripped from you, and, if you really focused, you could still feel him pulsing inside of you. Eventually, he pulled himself off of you and kissed you on your forehead. A soft, lingering touch that contrasted with everything that had just happened between you both.

He flopped beside you on the bed before immediately pulling you closer. You both laid in the quiet room, the air around you like a warm blanket. Your head rested on his chest, one hand tracing circles along his stomach. You felt the comfort of his breathing as he let out a long, slow breath, his hand running up and down the curve of your hip in lazy strokes. You lifted your head eventually, looking down at his face with a smile.

“You okay? You’re being suspiciously quiet.” You teased. He glanced up at you, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m having a moment.” He replied, sparkly blue eyes dancing across your face. “Oh, sorry,” You replied, mock-solemnly, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your existential crisis.” He let out a soft laugh, smacking your ass playfully. “No no, I’m good. Just…trying to catch up with the fact that that just happened.” You dropped your head onto him again, chin propped against his chest. “You’re feeling better.” You remarked, noticing his once tense muscles had seemed to relax into the comforter beneath you both. He stayed quiet for a beat, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, then said, “Yeah, I am.”

The words hung there a moment, heavier than they sounded. Uncertainty seemed to cross over you both simultaneously, before you spoke up again softly. “So…no identity crisis? Should I be expecting any panicked texts by tomorrow?” He met your eyes, raising a brow with a smirk. “Only if you start acting weird.” He replied, to which you scoffed. “Me? Never.” He chuckled and ran a gentle hand through your hair, soaking in the sight of you before him in this way. The room fell into comfortable silence once again, before Chris took another deep breath, this one slightly more charged.

“So…this was a one-time thing, right?” You lifted your head from his chest, letting out a small laugh. “Is this your attempt at letting me down softly?” He snorted, rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. “Actually, I was hoping the opposite.” You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip. “Ah, I see,” You propped yourself on your elbow, “Already trying to schedule round two, hm?” He turned to look at you, noticing the pleased expression across your face and admiring the way that you seemed to glow post-sex. “Just wondering if the offer could ever extend beyond emergency treatment for soul crushing sexual build-up.”

You squinted your eyes at him playfully, running your hand along his stomach. “So, what I’m hearing is you want to do this again, no sexual crisis required?” He grabbed his bottom lip between his teeth, shrugging. “I’m just wondering if I’m allowed to hope, or if I need to go back to rubbing one out to you every night.” Your eyes widened from his choice of words, but after gently poking his ribs you crawled back onto him; wrapping your arms around him and letting yourself feel his skin against yours. After another beat of silence, you spoke softly against his neck. “You’re allowed to hope.”

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