estrellawicz

[estrellawicz]

𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒘 𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓

… dealer!chris x buyer!reader. you hook up with a dealer while both in jail

cw: jail, walking in while in shower, p in v, sex?

!warning, this is highly unrealistic. purely for entertainment!

day 3 - one year anniversary special masterlist

The first time Chris saw her, she was cuffed and bleeding from the lip, refusing to sit down even as two guards barked in her face. He watched from behind the glass of the holding tank, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The room pulsed with the usual low buzz of defeat, but she—she stood out like a fuse still lit.

Rumor was she got picked up during a raid—wrong house, wrong time, wrong backpack on her shoulders. “Possession with intent,” they called it. Everyone had their own theory. Chris didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. He recognized the look in her eyes. Not fear, nor regret.

They ended up in the same block two days later. Same cell tier, same shitty routine. They didn't talk much—a bit about why they were in, but that was it. Just shared those lingering, loaded glances that lasted too long to mean nothing and too little to be anything yet.

Chris had his own rep. He was known—sharp hands, sharp tongue, no patience for anyone’s bullshit. He moved weight for someone big on the outside, and they all knew he wasn’t just some street-corner kid slinging dime bags. You didn’t mess with him unless you had a death wish.

But her? She didn’t flinch. Didn’t try to impress him, either. She just was, and that made her more dangerous than half the guys locked up with them.

Still, nothing had happened.

Until tonight.

The showers were supposed to be empty after lights out. That’s what made it the best time—when the guards stopped caring and the cameras “glitched.” Everyone knew the deal. You wanted privacy, you paid for it.

She hadn’t paid. And yet she was there, steam curling up her bare arms, eyes closed under the spray like the world didn’t exist outside that exact moment. He stepped into the tiled block before thinking twice.

Maybe he was tired of thinking.

Maybe he was tired of pretending he didn’t look at her like a problem he wanted to solve with his hands.

She didn’t flinch when he walked in. Just opened her eyes slow, like she knew it was him before she turned.

“You’re not scheduled,” she said, voice low, steady, amused.

“Neither are you,” he said back.

She tilted her head, blinking water from her lashes. “Guess we’re both breaking rules tonight.”

He stepped closer, jaw tight, heart ticking in his chest like a countdown. “You always shower in the dark?”

“You always follow girls into the shower?”

“I don’t follow anyone.”

Her eyes met his. Unblinking. “Good. I don’t like followers.”

Another step. The tile was cold beneath his feet, but the air was thick—hot from the steam and whatever coiled between them.

“You know they talk about you,” she said.

Chris’s mouth twitched. “They talk about you more.”

“I’m not the one they think I am.”

“You neither.”

That silenced them both for a second—because it was true. They both had stories scribbled in crooked handwriting on police reports, but none of them knew the real shit. Not the desperation. Not the mistakes. Not the choices that felt like the only way out when your back was already against the wall.

The steam clung to her skin. His throat felt dry.

She leaned against the slick tile, chin lifted just a little. Testing him. Teasing. Daring.

“What do you want, Chris?”

His name in her mouth sounded like a challenge. Like a line she’d just drawn, daring him to step over.

He stepped.

“You,” he said simply.

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile.

Just said, “Then come take me.”

“You sure?” he mutters, but his voice is already hoarse like he knows the answer.

She nods once—sharp, firm.

That’s all he needs.

His lips crash into hers, hard and hungry, all teeth and tension and the days they’ve spent pretending this wasn’t inevitable. She tastes like salt and steel and defiance. Her fingers twist in the front of his shirt, yanking him closer, and his body slots against hers like it’s been waiting to do this since the moment they locked eyes through holding cell glass.

He deepens the kiss, teeth scraping her bottom lip, tongue sliding past as she parts for him. It's messy, frantic, and so damn hot it borders on dangerous. The sound she makes—choked and quiet—punches straight through his control.

His hands slide down, fingers dragging across slick, heated skin until they find her hips. She gasps when he grips them tight, lifting her just enough to pin her higher against the wall. Her legs wrap around his waist without hesitation, heel digging into the back of his thigh.

“Fuck,” he breathes against her neck, voice all gravel and restraint fraying by the second.

“You talk too much,” she mutters, but she’s breathless too, nails raking down his shoulders as he rocks his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he is through his boxers.

Her head drops back against the tile with a soft thunk, eyes fluttering shut. The sound of water hitting the floor mixes with the slick slide of skin against skin, with the softest moans she’s trying not to let out.

He grins into her neck, smug and a little vicious. “Gonna keep quiet, sweetheart?”

Her reply is a sharp bite to his shoulder.

And then he’s dragging his mouth down her throat, over the curve of her collarbone, down farther—licking, tasting, biting as she squirms in his grip. 

His fingers dip between her legs, sliding through slick heat, and he curses under his breath—low and rough, like it knocks the air out of him.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.”

She huffs a breathless laugh, but her voice shakes when she says, “No shit, genius. You gonna do something about it?”

And he does.

Two fingers sink into her, slow at first, testing. She’s hot, tight, walls clenching around him almost instantly. Her head drops back again, a soft moan escaping her lips as he curls his fingers just right.

“Oh my—”

He swallows the rest with a kiss, filthy and deep, his thumb sliding up to circle her clit, slow and steady. Her hips jerk in response, grinding down against his hand like she’s starving for it. Every movement drags a new sound from her throat, and Chris drinks them in like water after a drought.

“Been thinkin’ about this,” he mutters against her jaw, pace quickening. “Since the day you walked in. You have no fuckin’ idea.”

She moans again, louder this time, nails digging into his shoulders, legs tightening around his waist.

“You’re not the only one,” she breathes out. “Been dreaming about this. About you—”

That shatters him.

He pulls back just long enough to yank his boxers down, cock springing free, already leaking. She looks down, eyes dark and wanting, and then back up at him with a smirk that’s pure sin.

“Don’t tease,” she says, wrapping a hand around him, stroking once, twice, making his whole body stutter. “You’ll break.”

He growls, grabbing her wrist and slamming her back against the wall again, a little harder this time. “You like it rough, huh?”

She grins. “I like it real.”

And that’s all it takes.

He lines himself up, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, and then pushes in with one slow, unforgiving thrust. She gasps—loud and raw—and her hands fly to his back, gripping like she’s anchoring herself.

He groans, deep and wrecked. “Shit, you feel—fuck—you feel perfect.”

He doesn’t start pounding into her right away. He savors it. Pulls out slow, almost all the way, then pushes back in deeper than before. Her hands claw at his back, and he watches her face, eyes locked on the way her mouth falls open.

“You feel that?” he grits out, voice tight. “Every inch?”

She nods frantically, trying to roll her hips, but he pins her tighter to the tile.

“Nuh-uh. You wanted it? You’re gonna take it.”

And she does.

He builds the pace slowly, hips rolling with purpose, grinding against her with every thrust. The angle’s punishing, perfect—she’s gasping into his neck now, teeth sinking into his skin just to muffle the sounds.

Then out of nowhere, he changes up the pace. Hard, deep, and fast.

The slap of skin on skin echoes in the shower, water running down their bodies as he fucks her against the tile wall like he’s been dying to do it for years. Every thrust pulls a sound from her that’s downright obscene—whimpers, moans, his name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

Her thighs tremble around him, back arching off the wall as he hits that spot over and over.

He cups her face, fingers sliding through the wet strands of her hair, holding her steady while his hips drive into her with raw need. The way she clings to him, the way her body responds so desperately, twists something inside him.

“Fuck, you so good,” he groans, voice rough and low.

She gasps, pressing a shaky kiss to his jaw.

The rhythm shifts, becoming more urgent, more desperate, like they’re trying to squeeze every last second out of this stolen moment. His thumb slides down, tracing lazy circles over her hip before darting between them again, seeking the spot that makes her shatter.

Then, with a wicked grin, he suddenly slides a finger inside her mouth. She barely has time to blink before he presses it deep, dragging it slowly across her tongue, commanding her to suck. She moans out loud, then does as he says.

Her eyes flutter shut for a second, and when they open again, they roll back to the very edge of her control as she clenches fiercely around him.

He groans loudly and smirks. “You like that huh?”

“I’m—Chris, I’m—”

He doesn’t let up. Just reaches between them again, thumb finding her clit, rubbing tight circles until she’s unraveling in his arms, choking on a moan as her orgasm hits like a tidal wave.

He fucks her through it, not stopping until he’s right there with her, hips stuttering, face buried in her neck as he groans her name and spills inside her, heat flooding between them.

For a second, neither of them move.

Just the sound of the water. Just the sound of their breathing.

Then, softly, she mutters, “Well, damn.”

Chris laughs, exhausted. “Yeah. Damn.”

logically this is the most stupid thing ive every written. idek man. uhhh i want chris' babies? idk. also do we fw the new banner?? pls tell me guys i need to be cool

𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆

comment 2 be added 2 taglist

[estrellawicz]

Wisteria - M. S.

Warning: angst (I think)

Sweet.

The moments with him were painted sweet...

Not like candy... Like honey... He's like Midas... Everything he touches turns into gold... But this time... It's honey.

Thick. Slow.

Lingering long after it's gone.

I watch as he opens the door for a girl. A girl so pretty I don’t think I can compare... Wondering who it is?

Me.

I stand here.

Stuck.

Like stone carved in longing.Reminiscing. Of the past. With him.

I watch myself turn to marble—a statue with glass eyes and a heart that still beats, as my feet bury themselves into the ground—like it’s eating me whole.

Wisteria grows around me. Climbing my arms, curling around my ribs, chaining me to a moment I can’t move on from.

Time has passed, but I’m still here.

Still standing in that memory. Still watching that scene.

The moment I’ll cherish because what happened next ruined it.

Ruined me.

And once I see it all begin to fall apart… Once I feel the crack forming under my feet…

I reset the memory.

I wake up.

His arms around me. Pulling me a little closer. A little tighter.

A little too tight.

Like he’s trying to hold back something inside him—and I’m the only thing keeping it from spilling out.

Sweetness is the lens of the lonely’s glasses.

It’s intimate… Safe… Real… That’s what I thought it was.

That’s what I still whisper to myself at night.

But deep down I knew.

I knew.

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t safe.

Sure, it was intimate to me—but to him?

I was just something easy. Easy to have. Easy to convince. Easy to keep around.

Easy to leave behind.

And he did.

But only in the ways that mattered.

He stayed enough to haunt me.

Left enough to hollow me.

Now, everything reminds me of him.

The hoodie I don’t wear anymore.

The toothpaste he liked.

The playlist he made—still tucked in a corner of my phone like a ghost with soft hands and sharp teeth.

I don’t delete it.

I tell myself I will.

But I don’t.

Because if I let go of that—what’s left of him in me?

Wisteria still wraps around my chest, tightening when I breathe too deep.

Sometimes, I catch myself smiling at nothing. At a memory that isn’t even mine anymore. At a version of him that never really existed outside my head.

And I hate it.

I hate how my love for him was poetry.

And his for me—was punctuation.

An afterthought.

A pause.

A breath between better things.

I still sleep facing the side he used to lie on. The mattress remembers his shape even if he doesn’t.

I still flinch when someone says his name. Still walk like my heart is breakable glass and every step shakes something loose.

I don’t think I know how to love again—not without hearing his voice in my head,whispering,It’s not real.

You’re not worth staying for.

No matter how sweet you were…you were never enough to keep.

And I wonder—when I finally shatter, when I finally stop pretending the statue can breathe—will the wisteria bloom from the cracks, or bury me whole?

Because I’m still there.

Still standing in the past.

Still sweet.

Still stone.

Still his.

Even when he never really was mine.

A/N: search through my words... Deeper meaning lies here... If you can't see it it's not for you...

May or may not be taking a break from writing... So expect less fics from me guys!!! Dw I'll try to answer asks as much as possible but yeah... I haven't really been in that writing zone... So... Bleep bloop!!!

TAGLIST: @thenickgirl @sturns-mermaid @sarahsturnn @jacksonsturniolo @certifiednickboy @nickssidewitch @fentiesturns @oopsiedaisydeer @messi10-fcb @nickscoconutwater @lilyswirly @ev1ldeadboy @mattsfrenchtoast @sweetshuga @chriss-slutt @izzylovesmatt @mattsdiva

Dividers by THE @bernardsbendystraws

[estrellawicz]

Volume up !!!

For my freaks 🤗

Tags: @zenithsturniolo-deactivated2025 @courta13

[estrellawicz]

okay like so many things to go over.

1. him in blue is my weakness.

2. his fucking hair.

3. his jawline.

4. he’s talking to softly which is HAWTTTT

5. “fuck me” i mean since you asked so nicely

6. the way his nose scrunched.

@sllutty-sturniolo @garfieldlovesu @pvssychicken @mattsglassezx @ivysturnss @hjvi @jensturnss @emely9274 @sheluvsthesturniolos @sturnl0ve @hereforshitsandgiggles @sturnl0ve @matts-wife @whosthatrandomgirl @glee2skkii @sarahsturnn @sturnioloslut101 @isasflorals

[estrellawicz]

do you guys believe the triplets are still virgins?

[estrellawicz]

this whole stalker situation is insane.

[estrellawicz]

— ᥫ᭡ addiction . . . matt sturniolo

where . . . matt thinks it's a good idea to take some 'sex chocolates' and soon can't help but be fucking addicted to your pussy

contains . . . pure smut, mentions of sex drugs, riding, overstimulation, sub!matt, slight dom!reader, (this one's a lil filthy-).

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #8

You knew the moment Matt had brought up the stupid idea of trying cheap sex chocolate he'd found online together that it would be dumb. You didn't know that they'd actually fucking work.

Matt watched as you bounced on his cock, his lips parted in a slack jaw type of way, his hands that were once gripping your hips tight, now weak in their attempt to hold you down and stop your ministrations.

"Fuck– ma, I– shittt–" He groaned out at the sight of your cream leaving a ring around the base of his cock from how long you two had been fucking — more-or-less, how long you'd been fucking him. His head fell back against the pillow underneath him, a choked out moan leaving him as you clenched around his twitching cock. "Ba– baby, I can't keep this up much longer—"

"Please, please just one more– I promise, one more and I'm done—" You begged him, your skin glistening a bit with sweat from how long you'd been at it, your thighs starting to weaken, but your need for his cock was so much stronger than the tiring of your body. "It just feels so fucking good—"

Your cunt was already filled with his thick, warm cum from the amount of times you'd made him cum already, but it just wasn't enough. What the fuck was in these damn chocolates? At least you knew they weren't false advertising at all.

Your body moved with a fervor that seemed to defy human limitations, your hips undulating in a relentless rhythm as you rode him with wild abandon, the bed creaking with each shake, the headboard practically slamming against the wall at this point.

The wet sounds of your coupling filled the air, the obscene squelching of your arousal coating his shaft and dripping down onto his balls. Matt let out a guttural moan, his hips bucking up to meet your downward thrusts, albeit trembling from the overstimulation.

"S-Shit, ma... you're gonna... kill me at this rate..." Matt whimpered out, his voice a breathy and whiny cry, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain. The stimulation was intense, borderline too much for him to handle. He could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing inch of his cock as it stretched your walls, filling you completely.

It was almost too much for you as well, the sensation bordering on painful as you rode him like your life depended upon it. Yet, you couldn't stop, driven by a primal need to chase your own release, to milk him for every last drop of his seed.

You leaned down, pressing your sweat-dampened breasts against his chest as you captured his lips in a searing kiss. Your tongue delved into his mouth, tasting the remnants of the chocolate on his tongue. "Don't you dare stop now—" you panted against his lips. "I need more. I need you to — fuck — fill me up until I can't take anymore."

"B–baby, fuck," Matt gasped, his head thrashing back against the pillow as you lifted yourself back up to continue riding him with wild abandon. "Your cunt is fucking devouring my cock. It's like a fucking furnace in there, so hot and fucking tight. I can't — I don't know how much longer I can last."

But even as he spoke, Matt's hands gripped your ass, pulling you down harder onto his throbbing shaft. His hips pistoned up to meet yours, the force of his thrusts lifting you off the bed. The room filled with the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by your wanton moans and Matt's increasingly desperate grunts.

"Fuck! Yes! Oh my god—" You gasped out, your hands scrambling to grip the headboard as he fucked up into you at a speed and harshness that had stars spotting your vision. "Ri–right there, Matt— Ohh fuck—!" You practically cried out, eyes rolling back at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through you, returning that burning pleasure you'd felt so many times already tonight.

"Whose pussy do you love, baby—" You moaned out as you bit your bottom lip.

"Y–yours—" Matt whined out, panting harshly beneath you.

"Whose fucking pussy do you love, Matt—"

"Yours mama! F–fuck— your pussy—!" He nearly babbled out, so fucked dumb from your cunt at this point.

Matt's grunted and panted out, his breathy almost squeaky with his whines. His body started to shudder beneath you, his cock pulsing erratically inside your clenching heat. "I... I'm about to fucking... c-cum—!," he stuttered out, his voice cracking with desperation. "Oh god, ma, your p-pussy... it's too much. I can't... I'm gonna..."

"That's it baby, that's it— fuck yes!— c'mon— cum for me, Matt— please fucking cum—" You breathlessly begged him, before your mouth fell open in a silent scream, eyes rolling back as you felt his cock twitch before pumping your cunt full of his seed one more time, a moan leaving your lips as you gushed all over his cock in unison.

Your ground your hips as your pussy milked every last drop of his essence, riding out the intense waves of your shared orgasm. The sensation of your combined releases, your juices mingling with his, only amplified the mind-blowing ecstasy that consumed you both.

Your bodies both trembled as yours highs finally came down, shaking limps and tensed muscles becoming weak as you collapsed on his chest, pulling a soft "oomph" from Matt before he breathlessly chuckled, holding you tightly against him.

"H–holy shit... that's was..." He panted out in near awe.

"Fucking amazing..." You finished for him, giggling weakly as your breathing patterns matched up, your face snuggling into his neck as you just lay there, soaking in the way your body finally let you rest, albeit leaving you beyond weak and exhausted.

You could feel his soft kisses on your shoulder before they pressed against the side of your face, making you lift your head up to meet him in a sweet kiss, the both of you feeling completely blissed out as Matt whispered against your lips.

"I'm 100% buying more..."

☆ : sorry this one was shorter than normal, it was mainly just smut so I didn't have much buildup to write at the beginning 😭 idk– but i hope you guys enjoy!!

taglist 🏷️

[estrellawicz]

your presence — chris sturniolo

pairing: perv!chris x bsf!reader

includes: m!masturbation, chris getting caught, chris having sexual thoughts/fantasies, lowkey sub!chris, idk what else

it was never supposed to happen.

he was never supposed to feel this way about you. his best friend.

you’re hanging out with him, nick, and matt in their living room. the four of you are sitting on the couch, watching and commenting on the show love island. your sat next to nick, chris and matt on the other couch. chris keeps glancing over at you as if he needs to tell you something. but you don’t pay any mind to it, giving him a small smile before returning your attention to the show. nick and matt are engrossed in it, acting like they’re actually in the show and yelling at the screen.

chris’s eyes trail over you despite how hard he tries not to let them. first, his eyes trail over your eyes. watching how they move subtly. then your lips, noticing how plump and perfect they look. how much better they’d look wrapped around his—

then his eyes then go down to your cleavage. he didn’t mean to be weird. he didn’t want to. he didn’t even want to be thinking of you like this. but he just couldn’t help it. the way your tank top outlines your curves even sitting down, the way your hair falls over your shoulders, the way your boobs practically spill out of your black tank top…

he swallows thickly, shifting in his seat. he forces his gaze to go back to the tv screen as he adjusts himself somewhat discreetly. he forces himself not to look at you. but it’s like your engraved in his mind right now. his breathing gets heavier and shallower. he couldn’t be more grateful for the blanket covering his sweatpants.

matt looks over at chris, noticing his quietness. usually matt is quieter than chris. but not this time. “hey, y’alright?” he questions, looking chris up and down, taking note of his flushed and almost panicked state.

chris looks over at him, nodding a little too fast. “yeah, i’m just really hot.” he breathes out, shifting the blanket.

matt raises his eyebrows, not believing him but not caring enough to pry. “alright.” he mumbles, turning his attention back to the tv and giggling at nicks comments.

you glance over at chris, noticing his state too. his eyes meet yours, and he whimpers under his breath, swallowing thickly. he doesn’t even care how he looks right now—he needs to rub one out real quick.

he stands up abruptly, adjusting his grey sweatpants as he does so. you watch him, and immediately notice the huge bulge in his sweatpants. your face flushes as you look up and see his eyes staring at you. “i—i have to use the bathroom.” chris mumbles before practically jogging out of the room, running upstairs to his bedroom. not the bathroom like he said.

“the fuck is his deal?” matt says, looking at you and nick.

“kid probably has to shit real bad.” nick jokes, making you giggle. you turn back to watch the tv, but you can’t stop thinking about what you saw. how big his bulge was, how he was breathing so heavy, how his face looked so desperate and flushed…

chris goes in the bedroom, not even bothering to fully close the door. he lays on his bed, his back resting against the headboard of his bed. he lifts his hips slightly to take off his sweatpants and his boxers in one go. his hard dick slaps against his abdomen, and he hisses slightly at the feeling and the cold air hitting him.

he lays back against the bed before he slowly wraps his hand around the base of his dick. he starts slow—he strokes himself gently, going from the base of his dick and to his tip, occasionally rubbing his thumb along his slit. he moans at the feeling of finally being able to touch himself.

he squeezes his dick slightly, adding more pressure. “o—oh fuck-“ he stammers out. his hips buck instinctively, chasing the feeling.

he can’t help but imagine your lips wrapped around his dick. how you’d take it all, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly face-fucks you. how beautiful you’d look with his length down your throat, his balls slapping your chin with every rough thrust of his hips.

he gets to the tip of his dick, and runs the pad of his thumb over his slit. he shudders, his head tilting back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut.

“m’so close…oh my—fuck—“ he whines, his brows pinching together. his hips buck, practically fucking his fist now.

—

“where is chris? it’s been like.. five minutes.” nick comments as he looks over at you.

“i know right.” you comment, “i’m gonna check on him, actually.” you say before standing up. nick and matt just nod in response, not thinking about it too much.

but you knew what chris was doing.

you go upstairs, checking the bathroom only to see no one in there. you walk towards his room, to which you hear muffled whimpers and moans. you walk into his room, acting like you don’t know he’s jerking off. you’re not sure where the confidence came from yourself, as you really only saw chris as your best friend.

“hey, chris, matt and nick wanted me to check up on y—“ you begin, opening the door. you stop when you see him. the sight is even more beautiful than you could’ve imagined.

his face is so fucked out, hair messy, brows pinched together, jaw slack, panting and whimpering like a puppy.

his eyes open when he hears you, his hand never stopping its motions.

“get out—fuck—“ he begins to respond, but gets interrupted by a moan. he whines, his head tilts back against the headboard. you stand there almost dumbly. he tries to cover himself, he tries to come back to reality. he really did try to stop, but the knot in his stomach is so taut.

he’s about to take his hand off of his dick. to try to act somewhat casual. but as soon as his eyes focus on you—actually focuses—he cums right then and there uncontrollably.

he cries out, spasms taking over his body as spurts of cum cover his hand and abdomen. his hips buck as he tries to cover himself poorly. “f—fuck! get out—“ he struggles to say as his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly, the feeling overwhelming but not stopping as it rushes through his body.

you step back, watching his body practically go limp as his orgasm ends. your faced is flushed, your panties soaked. “chris i’m sorry—“ you begins to apologize, but he just shakes his head.

“it’s fine. just get out and don’t tell anyone.” he pants, finally bringing a blanket over his lower half. you simply nod, walking back downstairs.

he’s so fucking embarrassed.

gif credits: @vxnitra

credits to whoever made this au idk who made it!

[estrellawicz]

— ᥫ᭡ talk dirty . . . chris sturniolo

where . . . Chris dirty talks you into finally sitting on his face and letting him eat you out like he's never before.

contains . . . smut, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), face sitting/riding, sub!reader, soft dom!chris, praising, pussy drunk!chris

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #7

You’re curled into Chris on his bed, half-watching some movie neither of you are actually paying attention to. His arm’s around your waist, fingertips trailing lazy circles against the skin just under your sleep shirt. There’s a heat there — a warmth that’s been growing, slow and steady, the way it always does when you two are this close for this long.

You shift slightly, and his hand slides higher. Not by much. Just enough to make you aware of it.

“You keep moving like that,” he murmurs near your ear, “and I’m gonna start thinking you’re doing it on purpose.”

You scoff under your breath, smiling, but your cheeks are already warm with blush.

“I’m not doing anything." You respond in a slight mutter.

Chris tilts his head, pressing his lips to your shoulder, his voice low, almost playful in your ear.

“You sure?” he coos. “Because the way your thighs keep squeezing around me is driving me a little crazy.”

You look away, cheeks flooding with heat, and he grins.

“God, I love when you get all shy like that,” he murmurs, voice thick with affection and want. “It’s cute. And really fucking hot.”

His hand dips beneath your shorts, palm resting warm on your upper thigh. You don’t stop him.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about all day?” he asks.

You swallow. You don’t answer.

He chuckles softly. “I’ve been thinking about you...” he begins, voice lower now, lips grazing against your jaw in a teasing manner. “On top of me. Your thighs on either side of my head. Your hands in my hair. Your hips grinding down on my face while I make you fall apart over and over.”

You make a quiet, embarrassed sound — half protested squeak, half embarrassed whimper — and bury your face in the crook of his neck as if to hide away.

“Chrisss..." you whimper against his skin.

“Mhm?” he hums like it’s an innocent question, as if he didn't just paint the hottest, most erotic pictures for you, but the hand on your thigh is anything but.

“You can’t just—say that stuff out of nowhere—" you pout as you move your head from out of his neck to look up at him.

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your neck, slow and lingering, making your breath catch in your throat and heat to pool between your thighs, need and demanding for attention.

“Why not? It’s true.” His lips trail up to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “You sitting on my face? That’s not even a fantasy anymore, baby. That’s a need.”

You shift again without meaning to, thighs instinctively tightening as you let out another pathetic whimper as you imagine it in your head, and he grins against your skin.

“Yeah… like that,” he whispers. “You’d look so pretty like that. All flushed and trembling, trying not to moan too loud while I hold your hips down and make you take everything I give you.”

Your breath catches. You can feel your heart thudding against your ribs.

“Chris—”

“You’d lose it, wouldn’t you?” he murmurs. “You’d try so hard to stay quiet, but the second I really start eating you out—” he groans softly at the thought, “you’d be shaking. Whimpering. Riding my face because you can’t help it.”

You try to hide your face again, heat crawling all the way down your chest, but he gently tugs your chin so you’re looking at him.

His gaze is soft — but intense. Loving, but burning. His sweet blues, now darkening with lust, meeting your adorable doe eyes, and it was as if he could read right through you, a smirk coming to his lips.

“You want to,” he whispers low and teasingly. “I can tell.”

You open your mouth to argue, but no words come. He kisses you instead — slow and sweet at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against yours like he’s already imagining exactly how you’ll taste, and it pulls a needy mewl from you, your hands grasping at his shirt as you feel your arousal seep through your panties.

When he finally pulls away, his voice is nothing but a whisper against your lips, almost begging if it wasn't for his teasing, low tone. “Let me have you like that, baby. Please... Let me love you like that. Just sit on my face.”

You hesitate, breathless. “…You really want that?” you ask.

His answer is instant, voice thick with desire, nearly groaning at the prospect of you saying yes. “More than anything.”

And after one shaky exhale, your thighs aching from being squeezed together for so long, and the feeling of your soaked panties underneath your shorts, you finally nod. “…Okay.”

His grin is immediate — wicked and boyish all at once, his voice a low coo that makes a shiver rush up your spine. “There’s my girl.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Are you sure about this?"

Your voice was hesitant as you looked down at Chris, thighs pressed together as you sat next to him in his bed with nothing on except for one of his baggy shirts, the movie nothing but background noise for the two of you.

"Baby, I promise, I've never been more sure of something in my entire life," He chuckled, already lying flat on his back, completely prepared for you as he looked up at you with almost excited eyes. "I'm seriously going to lose my mind if you keep making me wait."

You couldn't help a soft giggle before you exhaled quietly, working up you courage as you moved your legs to hook one over his head, your knees pressing into the mattress as you hovered over his face.

"Jesus... look at this fuckin' pussy, ma..." Chris groaned, bringing a hand up to drag his finger through your already drooling folds, making a soft gasp leave your lips as your hands held the hem of your shirt up a bit for him.

"I-is this ok?" You asked as blush covered your cheeks already, whimpering at the way his hands palmed over your thick thighs, before feeling him slowly hook his arms under them.

"Yeah... but it'd be even better if you actually sat on my face, baby," He cooed playfully, making a moan slip from your lips as he leaned up, running his tongue along your slit in a slow, savoring lick.  "Y' making me strain my neck just to taste you."

"But what if..." You trailed off.

"What if what?" Chris asked, his blue eyes peaking up at you from underneath as you swallowed a lump in your throat.

"What if I'm too heavy for you..?" You couldn't help but meekly whimper out, your nerves taking over you, but as you heard Chris huff out a chuckle, you suddenly felt his arms tugging you down, a gasp leaving your lips as he held you down against his face.

"C–chris!" You yelped, blush burning the tips of your ears before a pleasurable moan fell from your lips at him lapping at your pussy already, groaning against your folds as he held you in place, leaving you unable to lift yourself up.

"Just relax, baby," he murmurs against your slick folds, his hot breath making you shiver. "Let me take care of you. I want to taste every inch of this sweet little pussy."

You gasp as he begins to eat you out like it's his last meal, your back arching as jolts of pleasure course through you, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips.

Your thighs quake and tremble, the muscles taut with tension as you fight the urge to close them around his head, but he holds you steady, not letting you squirm away from the intense sensations.

Chris groans in approval as he laps at your dripping arousal, relishing your unique taste, a taste he could get addicted to without even trying.

"Fuck, you taste incredible," he growls against your cunt, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. His tongue delves deeper, probing your entrance whilst you feel one of his hands move, his thumb rubbing firm circles against your sensitive clit.

You toss your head back, your hair falling in disarray as you moan wantonly above him, whining as one hand shoots up to grip the headboard of his bed harshly to help steady yourself.

"C–chris! Mmm— Oh god, yes!" you mewl, your hips bucking instinctively against his face, getting lost in the pleasure and forgetting about your previous worries. He holds you firmly in place, his strong hand kneading the plush of your thigh as he devours your pussy with unrestrained hunger.

"D–don't stop, please don't stop!" You begged him, pleasure building rapidly as he works your pussy like never before, his thumb keeping that mind numbing rhythm whilst his tongue fucks into your clenching hole, making your mind fuzzy as that familiar knot pulls tighter and tighter within you.

And the moment he groans against your pussy, as if telling you to cum for him, you feel your orgasm hit you like a train, gasping out as you moan his name loud, back arching, hands gripping tight, and eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.

Your hips ground against his mouth as you gushed all over his tongue, whines and whimpers leaving you as you rode out your high, before you finally slowed your movements, panting as trembling above Chris until you finally came to.

"S-shit— 'M sorry—" You whimpered, lifting yourself up and off of his face, blushing at the sight of him, cheeks pink, mouth and chin covered in your juices, his eyes full of pure bliss as he looked up at you, chuckling as he looked almost equally as fucked out as you.

"Do.. do you want me to help you out now?" You asked sweetly, before watching as his cheeks reddened, a huffed out, almost embarrassed chuckle leaving his lips.

"Well, uh— I don't think you need to, baby—" He murmured, but as you gave him a confused face, you watched as his eyes glanced down, yours following his gaze before you gasped softly, seeing the big wet stain on his boxers, showing that he'd cum purely just from eating you out.

Your eyes met his again, a beat of a moment before the two of you giggled and chuckled, you leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his lips, whimpering softly at the taste of you on him before he whispered against your lips, his voice sounding like he was completely drunk from your pussy, and it made newfound arousal shoot through your body once more.

"Can we please do that again?"

☆ : that man is a muncher 4 LIFE, i just know it man...i can feel it in my nuggets (i have a coin slot 😔) idk if i like this one much— loved doing the dirty talking part but i feel like I flopped with the actual smut part, im sorry 😭 hope you guys still enjoy tho!!

taglist 🏷️

[estrellawicz]

okay but can we talk about matts new insta post?

HELLO

I’m so wet.

[estrellawicz]

sʜᴏᴡᴇʀ sᴇx

Warnings: smut, p in v, shower head play, f receiving

Summary: you were taking a shower in Chris’s shower, when he decided to join you.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Water trickled down your back as you stood under the warm spray in Chris’s shower, lathering shampoo through your hair. The sweet scent of vanilla lingered in the steamy air.

The warmth on your back felt incredible, comforting and soothing. You always loved the way hot showers wrapped around you, melting away every bit of tension.

Chris was lying in bed, half-watching a movie while you showered. Suddenly, he turned off the screen and got up, drawn toward the bathroom. Through the fogged up glass, he caught the hazy outline of your naked body, the steam blurring every detail.

He made sure you knew he was there, his voice soft and warm. “How’s your shower, baby?”, careful not to startle you with the sudden sound. As he began peeling off his clothes, a playful smile tugged at his lips. “Can I join you?”

“Absolutely, come on in,” you purred, your voice soft and teasing. He stepped into the shower with you, his eyes roaming hungrily over your curves, drinking in every inch as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair.

He stepped closer, his eyes locking with yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips. His hands found your hips, warm and steady, and your breath instantly hitched. The sight of his bare body so close, so real, sent a wave of heat through you. And the second he touched you, that excitement flared, your skin tingling with anticipation.

He began whispering how beautiful you were, his voice low and full of admiration. His fingers gently tucked the wet strands of hair behind your ear before trailing down to your hips, gliding slowly up and down, savoring the feel of you. His hands started to wander, exploring every inch of your body. Then he leaned in, eyes dark with desire, and pulled you in by the back of your neck, crashing his lips to yours in a deep, intense kiss that stole your breath.

He slid one hand between your thighs, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub slow, deliberate circles. All the while, his mouth stayed on yours, kissing you deeply, hungrily, like he couldn’t get enough. Your body responded instantly, your pussy throbbing with need, aching for more, aching for him.

You moaned into the kiss, your body giving away just how good it felt. He smiled against your lips, that confident, knowing grin, completely satisfied, because he could tell exactly how turned on you were, and he loved it.

He reached up, grabbing the detachable shower head and twisting it to the most intense setting. The water pulsed powerfully in his hand as he looked at you with dark, hungry eyes. “Can I use this on you?” he asked, his voice low and breathy. Without waiting for an answer, he gently lifted one of your legs, placing your foot on the ledge of the shower, opening you up to him completely.

All you could do was nod, breath caught in your throat, you already knew how good this was going to feel. He started by spraying the warm water across your thighs, teasing you, dragging it out. The ache between your legs grew unbearable. You looked at him, eyes wide and desperate.

“Please” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I need it, please, put it on my clit.”

Chris slowly guided the shower head between your legs, and the second the hot stream hit just right, you jolted, your body reacting instantly to the intense wave of pleasure. Moans spilled from your lips, echoing softly off the shower walls. It felt incredible. Your hands moved instinctively, rising to your chest as you played with your nipples, chasing even more stimulation.

When you looked down, Chris was already rock hard, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. The tension between you was electric. You needed him desperately.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, completely mesmerized as you gave in to the pleasure. Something about seeing you like that drove him wild. He reached up, his hand wrapping around your neck with a perfect mix of control and tenderness, pulling you in for an intense, breath stealing kiss. It was hungry, possessive, like he needed to feel every bit of you all at once.

You felt the pressure building fast, your body trembling as you whimpered, “Chris… I’m so close.” But just as you teetered on the edge, he pulled the shower head away, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss of contact. A needy whine escaped your lips, but before you could protest, he turned you around, guiding you to face the wall. His hands gripped your hips as he bent you over gently, arching your back until your ass was perfectly presented to him, your legs spread.

He slid into you effortlessly, slick and wet, the ease making the connection all the more electric. His hand tangled in your damp hair, pulling it back into a loose ponytail as he began thrusting fast and hard. Your moans grew louder, filling the steamy bathroom.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmured against your ear, voice low and teasing. “I know, I know it feels good, but my brothers are upstairs. Keep it down, yeah?”

You quickly threw a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds spilling out, no way did you want his brothers hearing just how good Chris was making you feel. Your body clenched around him, hips trembling as your orgasm surged closer, fast and impossible to hold back.

He lifted one of your legs, adjusting his angle to sink deeper inside you. The shift pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you in waves, your body trembling uncontrollably in Chris’s arms. Not far behind, he released inside you, warm ropes spilling deep, filling you completely.

Chris was right in your ear, his breath ragged and moans spilling out in a messy, desperate rhythm. Hearing how much your pussy was driving him wild sent a shiver down your spine, you were completely undone by the sound of him losing control because of you.

Chris slowly pulled out of you, his breath hitching as he watched his release drip down the shower drain, slipping out of you in slow, warm drops. “That felt so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction. Without hesitation, he spun you around and crushed his lips to yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

You both stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in warm, soft towels. In the middle of the bathroom, you melted into each other’s arms, holding tight and sharing the heat of your bodies, an embrace full of quiet tenderness and the lingering warmth between you.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Taglist❤︎:

@courta13 @riggysworld @heartsonlyforchris @mattssidepiece @matthewsangel @whore4chris @mattsturniolofuckingsexy @sturkneeohloww @leila-marie4 @sturniolo-szn2 @tezzzzzzzz @fictionalboysstuff @sturnixblogger @vall67 @chrissbxby @sturniolobananas1 @sophand4n4 @stvvrn1olo @mattspillowprincess @moond0llie @emely9274 @briizysturn @sturniolooluvv @kenziesturniolo54

[estrellawicz]

“Caught”

Blurb of Chris walking in on you masturbating

TW: smut, fingering, self pleasure

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You thought Chris wouldn’t be home for another hour. His meeting was running late, and you figured you'd have just enough time to take care of that lingering tension building all day.

You slipped into your bedroom with your heart pounding and just a little from anticipation. Fingers slipped down between your legs, slowing exploring your wet clit before sinking into your tight cunt. Your eyes began fluttering shut as you sank into the rhythm. The soft creak of the mattress, the quiet whimper of your name on your lips.

Until you heard the door click.

Chris.

You froze, but it was too late and he was already standing there, caught between shock and something darker, more intense. His eyes met yours, wide at first… then narrowing with interest.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, voice low, heat curling in every word. “But… don’t stop on my account.”

Your breath hitched. Embarrassment and arousal clashed hard in your chest as his eyes raked over you, hungry. He stepped inside, slowly closing the door behind him.

At this point you didn’t even bother covering up.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” he said with a smirk, walking closer. “Mind if I join?”

[estrellawicz]

“Titanic”

Matt sturniolo X reader

(This was requested)

Tw: slow burn, death, fluff, angst

The grand staircase gleamed beneath the soft glow of crystal chandeliers as I stepped aboard the RMS Titanic, heart pounding beneath the weight of my silk gown. The polished brass, the ornate woodwork, the gentle hum of excited voices—all of it was supposed to feel like a dream. Instead, it felt like a gilded cage.

I was Lady Y/L/N engaged to a man whose name meant power but whose presence chilled me more than the North Atlantic air. I was expected to be perfect—smile politely, keep my thoughts to myself, bow to the unspoken rules of a world that valued appearances over truth.

But as I stood there, a quiet storm shifted everything.

I saw him.

Matt Sturniolo.

His hair was tousled by the sea breeze, and his worn jacket did little to hide the strength in his lean frame. He moved through the crowd like he didn’t belong, a wild note in a symphony of polished grace. His eyes, dark and fierce, caught mine for just a moment, and I felt something like breathlessness—an invitation, a challenge.

Later that evening, I found myself retreating to the deck, seeking the solace of the cold night air, the vastness of the ocean stretching out like a promise. There, leaning against the railing, was Matt.

“You look like you don’t belong either,” he said without turning.

I hesitated, then said, “Neither do you.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Maybe that’s why we fit.”

He held out his hand, and without fully understanding why, I took it.

He pulled me down the narrow stairs, away from the first-class opulence to where the third-class passengers laughed and danced under strings of lanterns. The smell of salt and wood smoke mixed with the roughness of their voices. The music was lively, raw, and intoxicating.

Matt spun me into the dance, his grin wild. “Forget the rules for a while,” he whispered.

I laughed, something free and unfamiliar bubbling up inside me.

We danced barefoot on the deck beneath a blanket of stars, and for the first time in my life, I felt alive.

Over the next days, Matt showed me the world beyond my walls—the messy, beautiful world of dreams and struggle. He told me stories of his life, of street corners and stolen sketches, of hope clawing through hardship.

I told him of my loneliness, the suffocating expectation of a future planned and sealed.

“You’re more than your title,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “You’re alive, and you deserve to live.

We talked until the stars faded, sitting on the bow, watching the sea swallow the night.

But the weight of my world pressed down. My fiancé’s shadow darkened every corner, his promises a chain I wasn’t sure I could break.

One afternoon, Matt took my hand and led me to the prow. “Look,” he said, arms spread wide as if he could hold the ocean itself. “This is freedom.”

I closed my eyes, the wind tearing through my hair, and for a moment, I believed him.

Then the iceberg hit.

The shudder rolled through the ship like thunder, the world tilting in chaos. Panic seized the decks; orders screamed through the air.

I found Matt almost immediately, his hands steady as he pulled me toward the lifeboats. The cold sea air stung my lungs as we waited, the terrified faces around us blurring.

“Stay close,” he whispered.

But the lifeboats filled too quickly.

He pulled me back to the deck, to a piece of wreckage floating amid the freezing sea.

“Hold on,” he urged, gripping my hand as the water rose.

Hours passed like an eternity. The cold crept into my bones, but Matt’s hand in mine was the only warmth I had.

“Promise me you’ll live,” he said, voice barely audible.

“I promise,” I whispered, tears freezing on my cheeks.

He smiled, the last light in a dark sea, before slipping beneath the waves.

Rescued but broken, I carried him in my heart.

The boy who showed me freedom, who taught me to live beyond the cages.

Years later, when the ocean wind whispers and the stars glitter cold above, I still hear his laugh—wild, free, and forever mine.

A/N: idk how i feel abt this one it was so rushed 😭😭

Hope it was what u wanted!!

Tags:

[estrellawicz]

IM OUT OF IDEAS I NEED REQUESTS!!!

[estrellawicz]

“Hate (fuck) me harder”

Fwb!Chris X Brat!Reader

WARNING: arguing, smut, rough sex, slapping, choking, degrading kink, size kink, toxic

He storms through the front door like he’s ready to break something—maybe you. Your stomach coils the second you lock eyes.

“You done talking shit?” Chris spits, voice sharp as a blade.

You laugh bitterly, arms crossed. “Are you done playing the victim? Grow the fuck up, Chris.”

He’s across the room in seconds, grabbing you by the throat—not tight, just enough to make your breath catch and your heart spike.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he growls, eyes blazing. “You talk like you want me gone. But your legs say different every time I touch you.”

You shove him back, hard. “I hate you.”

“Then hate me with your legs spread,” he snaps, pinning you to the wall, body flush against yours.

The kiss isn’t a kiss—it’s a fight. Teeth, tongue, spit. He bites your bottom lip until it swells, until you whimper, and that sound drives him fucking insane.

“Gonna shut that mouth one way or another,” he mutters, dragging your shirt up over your head and tossing it. You’re stripped down fast—no tenderness, just hands that grip too tight, leave marks.

“Get on your knees,” he commands.

“No.” You spit the word like venom.

He smiles darkly. “Didn’t ask.”

His hand finds your throat again, not enough to stop air, just enough to make you feel how much he is in control. And you fucking love it. Still holding you by the neck, he turns you around and shoves your front against the wall. He tugs your shorts and underwear down, baring you, making you gasp as the cool air hits your skin. You feel him behind you—already rock hard—rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds.

“So wet for someone you ‘hate,’” he mocks, slapping your ass hard. “You're fucking pathetic.”

“Shut up and do it already,” you hiss.

Chris grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back, his lips brushing your ear.

“You want it rough, huh?” he growls. “You want me to ruin you.”

Then he slams into you in one brutal thrust. No warning. No build-up. Just pure possession. You cry out, fingernails clawing the wall, but he doesn’t let you breathe. He fucks into you like he’s angry—like he means to break you in half. His hand slides from your hip to your throat again, squeezing harder this time.

“Tell me how much you hate me now,” he snarls, thrusts deep and sharp.

You choke out a gasp, body trembling. “I hate you—I fucking hate—”

He tightens his grip. “Louder.”

“I hate—hate you—”

Your words dissolve into moans as he reaches down to rub your clit with two fingers, fast and punishing. You clench around him, legs shaking, climax ripping through you like a scream you can’t get out. You’re undone. Sprawled against the wall. Ruined and raw.

Chris groans deep, shoving his big cock into you, and thrusts harder—one, two, three more times before he buries himself deep and finishes inside you, panting against your back. His hand loosens from your neck and slides down your spine, lingering for a moment.

He pulls out and steps back, chest rising and falling.

You slowly turn around, wrecked, eyes dark

Neither of you says a word.

You just stare.

Breathing hard.

Sweat. Bruises. Hate. Lust.

The line between them?

Long gone.

A/N: first smut i cringed so hard writing this lmao but i wanna write another post argument smut maybe one with aftercare idk

ChatGPT used for PUNCTUATION and SPELLING ONLY. (English is not my first language)

[estrellawicz]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝒃𝒔𝒇!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝒃𝒔𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷

you complain about your shoulders being sore for two seconds. two. and suddenly chris is perched on the edge of your bed, cracking his knuckles like he’s about to perform surgery.

“take your hoodie off,” he says casually, like it’s not a weird thing to say to your best friend. girl best friend.

you shoot him a look. “excuse me?”

“i’m giving you a massage. you said your shoulders feel like cement.”

you hesitate. he raises an eyebrow. “c’mon. i swear i won’t make it weird.”

you grumble something under your breath but sit down anyway, facing away. the hoodie comes off. you’re in a tank top. his fingers are warm when they land on your shoulders.

“jesus,” he mutters. “you’re tense as hell.”

something about the way he says it makes you freeze, but you pull it together. “gee. thanks.”

he starts slow, thumbs digging gently into the knots just beneath your shoulder blades. you try not to melt into a puddle of goo immediately. but oh, god—he’s good. his hands are strong, confident. like he knows what he’s doing.

and then—completely involuntary—you let out a tiny sound. part groan, part whimper. barely audible, but definitely there.

his hands freeze.

“sorry,” you mutter, face burning.

he doesn’t move for a second. just breathes. and then, like he’s forcing himself to speak normally: “you okay?”

you nod quickly. “yeah. yeah, just—hurts.”

his hands start moving again, slower now. gentler. like he’s afraid of what else might slip out of you if he pushes too hard.

you let out a half-laugh, half-breath. “damn you’re good at this… or are you just looking for excuses to get your hands on me?”

his fingers still for a beat—then dig in a little deeper, deliberate. “if i wanted that, this isn’t how i’d go about it.”

You hiss and your muscles tense at the added pressure

his thumb drags slow over your shoulder again. “nah,” he says, a little softer now. “i just like taking care of you.”

“as friends.” you add, half whisper

“as friends,” he whispers.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷

buddy is BALLS deep in the friend zone

guys should i make this an actual au... i lwk love writing blurbs where chris yearns and y/n tells him to shut up

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

tell me why i always feel bad tagging ppl i feel embarassed that im bugging you guys lmao

[estrellawicz]

“stay”

part 2

reader X Chris

Warning: slight angst and fluff

The car ride home was suffocatingly quiet. Your phone sat face down in your lap not that anyone had texted. Not the so-called “friends” who ditched you. Not the people who watched without saying a word. No apologies. No explanations. Just you and chis

His knuckles were white around the steering wheel. His jaw tight. His eyes, though still kind, had gone cold with focus. Controlled fury. He hadn’t said a word since you got in the car, but the silence was louder than yelling. You sat still, wrapped in the borrowed warmth of his jacket, the lingering taste of fear still thick in your mouth. You wanted to say something. Anything. But everything felt too small

When he pulled into his driveway, the engine cut off with a sharp click. You didn’t move.

Chris got out, walked around, and opened your door before you could even reach for the handle. You looked up at him, blinking fast, unsure if it was leftover tears or guilt making your vision blur.

“Come on,” he said softly.

No edge. Just that calm, steady voice that somehow made it all worse. You nodded wordlessly and followed him inside.

His apartment was dim, quiet — like it knew not to speak. Chris tossed his keys on the counter, kicked off his shoes, and walked straight to his bedroom without waiting for you. Not coldly. Just… knowing you’d come. And you did.

When he handed you his hoodie, your hands trembled as you took it.

You went to the bathroom, peeled off the party clothes you now hated yourself for wearing, and stared at your reflection. Mascara smudged. Lipstick faded. The girl in the mirror looked like she’d been running not physically, but emotionally, constantly trying to outrun the truth.

You didn’t even know what you were chasing anymore.

You slipped on the hoodie. It swallowed you whole not just in size, but in safety. In memory. In the smell of something stable. You padded back to his room. Chris was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, legs stretched out, arms resting in his lap. He looked at you, really looked and your breath caught in your throat.

He didn’t look angry.

He looked hurt.

You sat at the edge of the bed like you didn’t deserve to be closer.

“I’m sorry,” you said. It cracked in the middle. “I know that doesn’t fix anything. But I am.”

Chris was quiet for a second, then exhaled. “I wasn’t mad that you went,” he said. “I was mad because I knew they’d do exactly what they did. And I couldn’t protect you.”

You blinked hard. “But you did. You came.”

“I came too late.”

You turned toward him. “No, you didn’t.”

His eyes lifted to yours, raw and red around the edges. “Do you know what it felt like, getting that call from you? Hearing your voice like that?” His hand curled into a fist. “And knowing I wasn’t there when you needed me the most?”

“You were there,” you whispered, crawling toward him on your knees. “You were the only one who showed up.”

Chris reached for you then, gently pulling you into his arms like you were made of glass. You curled against him, nose buried in the hollow of his neck, and let yourself fall apart.

“I was so scared,” you sobbed. “I wanted to leave so bad. But I didn’t want you to be right. I didn’t want to prove you right about them.”

Chris’s arms tightened around you like a shield. “I don’t care about being right,” he whispered against your hair. “I just care about you.”

You clung to him harder. “I felt disgusting. I felt like no one wanted me there. And when they left me, I realized… I didn’t even want to be there. I just didn’t want to disappoint people who wouldn’t think twice about disappointing me.

Chris pulled back just enough to cup your face, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“You listen to me,” he said, voice trembling now. “They abandoned you. I won’t.”

“But I didn’t listen. I treated you like the enemy. I made you feel like your love was control.”

“You were angry. And scared. I get that. I just…” He paused. “I need you to stop putting yourself in situations where I can’t get to you fast enough.”

You nodded, tears silently falling again. “I will. I promise. No more trying to prove a point at the cost of my own safety.”

Chris leaned in then, resting his forehead against yours. “Good,” he whispered. “Because next time, I don’t want to be racing against something worse.”

You didn’t kiss. Not yet. It wasn’t about that.

It was about breathing again. Together. In sync. Forgiving.

It was about the quiet hum of his heartbeat in your ear and the way his hands stayed steady even as yours shook.

And when he finally pulled the blanket over both of you and whispered, “You’re safe now,” you knew he meant it in a way no one ever had.

Not just safe in his arms.

But safe being loved even when you didn’t think you deserved it.

A/N: DAMN THIS IS LONG! i actually love this i might do a part 3 but idk what to put it in 😭

also I’m on summer break so i have alot of free time to write!!