forevvermb

[forevvermb]

hi everyone, this is just a quick reminder that hate and negativity will not be tolerated on my account ! I want this account to be a safe place for anyone and everyone, so in other words, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it at all.

simple as that.

but aside from that I hope you all are having an amazing time and don’t forget to live your life like tomorrow isn’t promised!

love you all!!

xoxo, truly

[forevvermb]

yearning for a man who doesn’t know I exist

he’s just too damn sexy



[forevvermb]

this is too dang cute 🥹

── ⌗ frat!chris + dancer!reader ⋆˚࿔

chris does dolly’s lipstick for her before a performance.

۶ৎ

the distinct scent of hairspray is still flowing throughout chris’ dorm. chris was stood between your legs, fixing up the tiny pieces of hair with a bit of gel. he’s gotten pretty damn good at all this hair and makeup stuff.

you sit on the counter, holding onto chris’ shirt for balance, making sure not to fall into the sink. chris hummed as he continued to fix your hair up a little, pushing one more bobby pin into your little bun.

small feet kicked against the counter, anxious and somewhat excited for another day of performances. chris lived closer to the competition, hence why you’ve spent the night at his place.

chris then finished up your hair, moving over to your makeup bag. “your lipstick still in here?” he asks, digging through the bag. “should be.” you mumble, humming along to the song playing off chris’ phone.

eventually he finds it, a little red tube of lipstick. “you sure you can do it?” you ask, pursing your lips together, raising an eyebrow at him. “i’ve done it plenty,” chris scoffs.

you open your lips just enough, chris gently moving the lipstick across your lips. “open a little wider for me, dolly.” he says, and you oblige. giving him just enough room to get into the corners of your lips.

after a little more concentration and scolding you for moving too much, he’s all done. he closes the tube of lipstick and gives you your tiny mirror to approve of your red lips. “ooh! looks good!” you say, smiling at your reflection.

chris gives you a small peck on your forehead, and in return you give him a kiss on his cheek. a red lipstick stain clear as day on his face. “dear lord, don’t mess up your makeup.” chris says, and all you can do it respond in giggles.

“c’mon, we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.” he tells you, urging you to grab your bag and head out the door.

and the rest of the day, he doesn’t wash the lipstick stain off. he wears it like a badge of honor.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝓜el is talking . . . woah look at that! the first actual piece of writing for these cuties :D

⤷ ⌗ taglist ⸝⸝ . . . @lilyswirly @viviansturns-side @delilahsturniolo @sturnsflirt @viviansturns @k-pevensie28 @sturniolo-szn2 @h3arts4nat @silenceb3tweensongs @matties-angel @edu4rdo20 @matts-babytomatoes

© chrisbambi all rights reserved ᵎᵎ

[forevvermb]

⚠︎︎: slight suggestive content (just a tad bit), kissing, touching, literally pure fluff

shy bf!matt- he fake sleeps so you’ll play with his hair. you catch him peeking sometimes, smirking under his lashes when your fingers brush through his hair.

shy bf!matt- he brags about you to anyone who will listen, telling his brothers about how smart you are, sending pictures of your matching outfits to nick with hearts and sparkles 💖✨

shy bf!matt- he has a “you’re home!” voice, the moment you walk in his tone changes, softer, sweeter

shy bf!matt- you got a new outfit?? he gasps like you’ve just walked off a runway

shy bf!matt- he can be salty with his brothers for a week if they joke to hard, but if you hurt his feelings, he folds fast. one soft apology from you and he’s tucking himself into your arms like he never pretended to be mad

shy bf!matt- before you fall asleep, he often traces patterns on your arm or plays with your hair quietly

shy bf!matt- he'll drape himself on your chest and scroll on his phone, occasionally holding it up to show you funny posts. every now and then, he'll tilt his head and ask, "you still okay? need anything baby?"

shy bf!matt- he falls asleep touching you somehow. arm around your waist, fingers tangled in yours, legs tucked close

shy bf!matt- quick kisses are rare, he takes his time, presses his lips to yours, temple, cheek, knuckles, sometimes he just kisses the back of your hand and holds it there for a second

shy bf!matt- he's a maaaajorrrr thigh guy

shy bf!matt- his kisses are slow, focused, his hands usually cradle your jaw or rest at your hips

shy bf!matt- there are nights where he gets home, exhausted from filming, eyes low, voice husky and he just doesn't say anything at all. he just drops to his knees between your legs like you're his lifeline

shy bf!matt- he loves the feeling of your body against his, running his hands over your thighs and hips, pressing you close as he whispers how much he wants you

im OBSESSED with shy matt, he's just the cutest!!! i hope you lovely people enjoyed these headcanons, i cant wait to post more!!

xoxo, truly

[forevvermb]

looks like I’m writing shy boyfriend!matt headcanons!! I can’t wait! it should be up tmrw morning!

thank you for your help love, can’t wait to get to writing! 😉

[forevvermb]

HELLO!???? you’re so talented!!!

I think i forgor how to draw but this is a wip :>

[forevvermb]

thank you for your help love, can’t wait to get to writing! 😉

[forevvermb]

⚠︎︎: suggestive content (smut), mentions of weed and sex, fluff?

dealer!chris isn't loud or vocal during sex, he mostly lets out low, sharp inhales or gritted groans (mainly because he's so high he barely feels a thing)

dealer!chris absolutely livesssss for teasing you

dealer!chris lovelovelovelovessss the sight of fucking you while casually smoking a blunt

dealer!chris watches everything during sex, he doesn't close his eyes, doesn't let himself get lost in the moment—because the best part for him is see every expression you make

dealer!chris loves your attention during sex, the last thing he wants is you to look away—if you do, he'll gently grab your chin and turn your head back to him

dealer!chris moves his hips in slow, torturous rolls, keeping you on the edge during sex

dealer!chris isn't reckless, he's deliberate. he drags things out, making you feel every inch, every moment

dealer!chris will pause just to hear you whimper, to make you feel desperate before starting again

dealer!chris does NOT kiss gently, his lips always press hard and demand against yours, deeply, hungrily, like he's trying to consume you

dealer!chris doesn't coo or cuddle you after sex, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. he fixes the blanket without saying a word before pulling you close, he murmurs a soft "you did so good f'me, ma" and if you're really tired, he'll scoff but his arms tighten around you instinctively. he won't admit it, but he like the closeness

tehe i absolutely loved making this! i also have a taglist now so if you would like to be added to it, don't be afraid to ask!!

xoxo, truly

💌 @bernardsbendystraws @mi-co-uk

[forevvermb]

you’re so freaking cute 😌✨

sober or not, I love you

dealer!chris x reader

matt's text is short and desperate: "chris's being cocky and handsy. save us"

you sigh, toss on your hoodie, and head to the house where the party's been going on for hours.

when you walk in, it's loud, the lighting's weirdly purple, and someone's already passed out on the stairs. you weaved your way through the crowd until you spotted him.

chris is leaning back against the kitchen counter, long legs crossed, drink in hand, eyes low. there are two girls standing close, clearly testing the limits of "friendly."

one of them playfully taps his chest. "you sure you're taken?"

chris just raises an eyebrow, tilting his head like it's the dumbest question he's heard all night. "very."

"what's her name?" the other one challenges.

that smug little smile spreads across his face, "wouldn't give it to you even if you asked nicely."

and then, like clockwork, his red eyes flick up, right over their heads and land on you.

his whole posture shifts. he stands straighter, subtly pushing off the counter, and without a word to the girls, starts walking straight towards you like gravity is dragging him.

you barely open your mouth before he's already in front of you, tall and unapologetically smug.

"hey," he says, voice smooth and low.

"you're drunk? and high?"

he shrugs, "and you're late."

he then leans in, no hesitation, hands finding your waist as he bends down just enough to nuzzle your cheek. his breath smells like lemon-lime soda and something sharper underneath.

"took you long enough."

you roll your eyes, pretending your not melting, "You've got groupies tonight?"

he hums lazily against your skin. "didn't even look at them. waste of time." his fingers slide just under the hem of your hoodie, settling at your hips like it's the most casual thing in the world. "why would I entertain that when I've got you?"

you glare at him, weakly. "you're really drunk."

"im really high," he corrects. "and a little drunk, which makes me honest."

matt walks past with two red solo cups and mutters, "he's been like this for hours."

you sigh, looping an arm around chris's waist to guide him toward the door. He didn't protest, just presses in closer, fingers tapping slow patterns against your side like he can't stop touching you now that your here.

he holds the door open for you, drunkenly bumping into the frame in the process. He then wraps both arms around you from behind as you step into the cool night air.

"i like my hoodie on you," he says into your neck. "even from across the room you looked hot. still do."

you scoff, "you're such a child."

he smirks, lips brushing your ear. "you love it."

and God, maybe you do. especially when he's this warm, this soft, this gentle, even when he smells like cheap vodka and weed.

he doesn't let go of you the entire walk to the car.

not even a little.

one arm wrapped around your waist, the other playing with the strings of your hoodie.

trailing up and down your side like he's memorizing the texture. he's humming under his breath, some random tune you don't recognize, and every couple of steps, he pulls you closer like he's making sure you don't disappear.

you open the passenger door for him and he grins, cocky and loose.

"you're so nice to me, ma," he drawls, leaning in close before getting in. "How'd I land you again?"

"years of being tolerable..and pre-rolls" you deadpan.

he just laughs, low and gravelly, head tilted back as he settles into the seat.

his hand immediately finds your thigh as you start the car— fingers warm through the fabric of your sweats, palm heavy, and claiming. you shoot him a glance.

"you good?"

"mhm," he says, turning his head to stare at you.

"you're so hot when you drive, ma. like—distractingly hot."

you let out a slow breath, "chris,"

"no, no, hear me out," he says, already sliding his hand higher. "you're doing the whole one-hand-on-the-wheel thing? absolute cinema."

you reach over to shove his hand back down—not too hard, but firm. he groans dramatically, flopping his head against the seat.

"rude."

"you're going to forget all of this in the morning."

"nope." he looks at you again, smiling. "burning it into my brain. my girlfriend. my uber driver. my soulmate."

you shake your head. soulmate? well that's a new one.

-

The moment you unlock the apartment door, he's on you again.

shoes kicked off haphazardly, jacket halfway unzipped, cheeks still flushed from the party. he closes the door behind you, then cages you against it without saying a word.

he leans in, lips barely brushing your temple. "you gonna tuck me in, sweetheart?"

"you're a big boy, you can handle yourself," you mutter, trying to breathe normally.

"you're so mean to me," he says, but he's smiling. his hands find your hips again, thumbs slipping under your shirt to press into your bare skin. "s'like you want me to beg."

"you are insufferable when you're drunk."

"but I'm still cute, right?" he asks, dipping down to kiss your neck, slow and lazy. "i love you so much, ma."

you open your mouth to respond, but he's already pulling you toward the couch, still touchy, still attached. he collapses onto it and drags you into his lap like he expected you to follow.

you don't even get a chance to adjust before he's wrapped around you like a human blanket, arms around your waist, face tucked into the crook of your neck, legs tangled with yours.

he exhales deeply.

you snort, "you're ridiculous."

"im in love," he mumbles into your shoulder, tightening his grip just slightly. "with the smartest, hottest, most patient girl in the world. and she came to pick me up like a knight in shining armor. you should get a sword."

"you're gonna be mortified tomorrow."

he grins, eyes closed, completely unbothered, "only if you don't stay here all night."

you go still for a second, then glance down at him, brushing the hair from his forehead.

"...you're already falling asleep."

he hums. "only 'cause you're warm, and pretty, and my spine is melting."

you stay there for a while--him clingy and drunk and too high for his own good. his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, drifting over your sides every so often like he can't help it. even as his breathing slows and his words blur, he doesn't let go.

you run your hands through his hair, take out the pre-rolled blunts and lighter from his pocket and drift off into a comfortable sleep.

-

you wake up to weight.

warm, heavy weight. long limbs tangled with yours, a lazy hand splayed over your stomach, and a slow, groggy breath against the back of your neck.

chris.

you shift slightly and feel him stir behind you, groaning into your shoulder, his voice scratchy and wrecked.

"ugh. what time is it?"

you check the phone beside you. "ten."

he groans louder, "that's disgusting."

"then go back to sleep."

you expect him to roll away, maybe throw the blanket over his face dramatically, but instead he tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

his hand skims beneath your shirt with a kind of sleepy confidence, palm warm on your bare skin. "mmm, no. this is fine. im good right here."

you snort, "you remember anything from last night, or did it all blur out around the second shot of vodka?"

he hums, "i remember..being amazing. rejecting two girls. saying some very romantic things."

you twist in his arms to face him. he looks like a mess, bed hair, puffy eyes, and a light hicky blooming beneath his jaw, probably your fault.

he blinks slowly at you, then smirks.

"and i remember thinking, very clearly, that my girlfriend is stupidly hot when she's mad at me."

you raise an eyebrow, "you literally climbed me like a tree in the hallway. i had to hold you up while unlocking the door."

"efficient," he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lips. "i was multitasking, admiring you and keeping you warm."

"you made out with my hoodie sleeve,"

he grins, unapologetic. "you were wearing it, that counts."

you press your fingers into his ribs. "chris, you're shameless."

he leans in closer, voice low and unbothered, "i told you i love you last night, didn't i?"

you pause, heart skipping once.

"...you did,"

he hums again, sleepy but smug. "then i meant it."

you blink, "you remember that?"

he nods against your pillow, brushing his nose against yours. "why wouldn't i remember telling you that?"

"because you were drunk,"

"yeah, but i wasn't lying." his voice softens a little, "i don't say stuff like that unless i mean it, you know that."

your heart twists. he's still warm, still a little sleepy and clingy, but there's something steady behind the lazy smile this time.

you push a hand through his hair and he leans into the touch automatically, eyelids fluttering shut like you're the cure to his hangover.

"i love you too," you whisper.

he smirks without opening his eyes. "i know."

he grumbles, burying his face in your chest. "still not moving, though." you give up trying to move at all.

as the day progressed you honestly thought he'd be more flustered.

you expected groaning, maybe hiding under your sheets for two hours, muttering things like "don't look at me" and "i didn't really say soulmate, right?"

but no.

chris rolls out of bed like he didn't practically confess his entire soul twelve hours ago, brushes his teeth, rolls a blunt, and steals a kiss before you can stop him.

-

it's noon now and he's been... weirdly calm.

too calm.

you're on the couch scrolling through your phone when he casually walks by, pretends like he's just going to the kitchen, then backpedals, bends down, and kisses the top of your head.

"what was that for?"

“felt like it,”

ten minutes later, he "accidentally" drops his phone beside you and leans over to grab it, with both arms beside your head, before kissing your cheek like it's nothing.

you narrow your eyes.

"chris,”

"what?" he says, blank-faced.

"you've kissed me three times in the past twenty minutes."

"correction," he says, pressing one to your jaw now. "four."

you blink.

"are you okay?"

"im great," he shrugs, now leaning against the couch like he doesn't have plans at all.

"my girlfriend picked me up from a party, let me fall asleep on her, and told me she loved me. i think im allowed to be annoying for at least twenty-four hours."

"you're being clingy."

he raises a brow. "if i was clingy i'd be-"

he cuts himself off by literally crawling into your lap.

"—doing this."

you laugh. "you're unbelievable."

"mhm." his arms wrap loosely around your waist, his head fitting under your chin as he sighs, all smug and sleepy and completely satisfied. "so you're saying i shouldn't keep kissing you every time I walk past?"

"im saying you're being obvious."

"so?"

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are sharp now, but soft around the edges in that way he only ever is with you.

"I like you," he says, quietly. "a lot."

"i know," you tease, brushing his hair back. "you said it last night, loudly. in front of two girls who were definitely flirting with you."

"yeah." he grins, unrepentant. "that was kind of fun."

you're about to reply when he cuts you off, again, with a kiss. this time slower, deeper, hands cradling your jaw like he's not letting you go for anything.

you melt a little, maybe a lot.

when he pulls you back, he's annoyingly smug.

"you weren't complaining then either,"

you stare at him, dazed. "chris."

he tilts his head, already leaning back in. "just one more,"

you roll your eyes but let him kiss you again anyway. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's gonna keep doing it all day.

hellooo?? I finally wrote something?? yayayayyayay!! big ol' thank you to my dearest rose @bernardsbendystraws for giving me a second opinion, love ya!!

xoxo, truly

[forevvermb]

Most recent HERE

@bernardsbendystraws @mi-co-uk @trulymb

[forevvermb]

i WILLLLL be brainstorming more fluff for dealer chris, oh just you wait 😉

sober or not, I love you

dealer!chris x reader

matt's text is short and desperate: "chris's being cocky and handsy. save us"

you sigh, toss on your hoodie, and head to the house where the party's been going on for hours.

when you walk in, it's loud, the lighting's weirdly purple, and someone's already passed out on the stairs. you weaved your way through the crowd until you spotted him.

chris is leaning back against the kitchen counter, long legs crossed, drink in hand, eyes low. there are two girls standing close, clearly testing the limits of "friendly."

one of them playfully taps his chest. "you sure you're taken?"

chris just raises an eyebrow, tilting his head like it's the dumbest question he's heard all night. "very."

"what's her name?" the other one challenges.

that smug little smile spreads across his face, "wouldn't give it to you even if you asked nicely."

and then, like clockwork, his red eyes flick up, right over their heads and land on you.

his whole posture shifts. he stands straighter, subtly pushing off the counter, and without a word to the girls, starts walking straight towards you like gravity is dragging him.

you barely open your mouth before he's already in front of you, tall and unapologetically smug.

"hey," he says, voice smooth and low.

"you're drunk? and high?"

he shrugs, "and you're late."

he then leans in, no hesitation, hands finding your waist as he bends down just enough to nuzzle your cheek. his breath smells like lemon-lime soda and something sharper underneath.

"took you long enough."

you roll your eyes, pretending your not melting, "You've got groupies tonight?"

he hums lazily against your skin. "didn't even look at them. waste of time." his fingers slide just under the hem of your hoodie, settling at your hips like it's the most casual thing in the world. "why would I entertain that when I've got you?"

you glare at him, weakly. "you're really drunk."

"im really high," he corrects. "and a little drunk, which makes me honest."

matt walks past with two red solo cups and mutters, "he's been like this for hours."

you sigh, looping an arm around chris's waist to guide him toward the door. He didn't protest, just presses in closer, fingers tapping slow patterns against your side like he can't stop touching you now that your here.

he holds the door open for you, drunkenly bumping into the frame in the process. He then wraps both arms around you from behind as you step into the cool night air.

"i like my hoodie on you," he says into your neck. "even from across the room you looked hot. still do."

you scoff, "you're such a child."

he smirks, lips brushing your ear. "you love it."

and God, maybe you do. especially when he's this warm, this soft, this gentle, even when he smells like cheap vodka and weed.

he doesn't let go of you the entire walk to the car.

not even a little.

one arm wrapped around your waist, the other playing with the strings of your hoodie.

trailing up and down your side like he's memorizing the texture. he's humming under his breath, some random tune you don't recognize, and every couple of steps, he pulls you closer like he's making sure you don't disappear.

you open the passenger door for him and he grins, cocky and loose.

"you're so nice to me, ma," he drawls, leaning in close before getting in. "How'd I land you again?"

"years of being tolerable..and pre-rolls" you deadpan.

he just laughs, low and gravelly, head tilted back as he settles into the seat.

his hand immediately finds your thigh as you start the car— fingers warm through the fabric of your sweats, palm heavy, and claiming. you shoot him a glance.

"you good?"

"mhm," he says, turning his head to stare at you.

"you're so hot when you drive, ma. like—distractingly hot."

you let out a slow breath, "chris,"

"no, no, hear me out," he says, already sliding his hand higher. "you're doing the whole one-hand-on-the-wheel thing? absolute cinema."

you reach over to shove his hand back down—not too hard, but firm. he groans dramatically, flopping his head against the seat.

"rude."

"you're going to forget all of this in the morning."

"nope." he looks at you again, smiling. "burning it into my brain. my girlfriend. my uber driver. my soulmate."

you shake your head. soulmate? well that's a new one.

-

The moment you unlock the apartment door, he's on you again.

shoes kicked off haphazardly, jacket halfway unzipped, cheeks still flushed from the party. he closes the door behind you, then cages you against it without saying a word.

he leans in, lips barely brushing your temple. "you gonna tuck me in, sweetheart?"

"you're a big boy, you can handle yourself," you mutter, trying to breathe normally.

"you're so mean to me," he says, but he's smiling. his hands find your hips again, thumbs slipping under your shirt to press into your bare skin. "s'like you want me to beg."

"you are insufferable when you're drunk."

"but I'm still cute, right?" he asks, dipping down to kiss your neck, slow and lazy. "i love you so much, ma."

you open your mouth to respond, but he's already pulling you toward the couch, still touchy, still attached. he collapses onto it and drags you into his lap like he expected you to follow.

you don't even get a chance to adjust before he's wrapped around you like a human blanket, arms around your waist, face tucked into the crook of your neck, legs tangled with yours.

he exhales deeply.

you snort, "you're ridiculous."

"im in love," he mumbles into your shoulder, tightening his grip just slightly. "with the smartest, hottest, most patient girl in the world. and she came to pick me up like a knight in shining armor. you should get a sword."

"you're gonna be mortified tomorrow."

he grins, eyes closed, completely unbothered, "only if you don't stay here all night."

you go still for a second, then glance down at him, brushing the hair from his forehead.

"...you're already falling asleep."

he hums. "only 'cause you're warm, and pretty, and my spine is melting."

you stay there for a while--him clingy and drunk and too high for his own good. his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, drifting over your sides every so often like he can't help it. even as his breathing slows and his words blur, he doesn't let go.

you run your hands through his hair, take out the pre-rolled blunts and lighter from his pocket and drift off into a comfortable sleep.

-

you wake up to weight.

warm, heavy weight. long limbs tangled with yours, a lazy hand splayed over your stomach, and a slow, groggy breath against the back of your neck.

chris.

you shift slightly and feel him stir behind you, groaning into your shoulder, his voice scratchy and wrecked.

"ugh. what time is it?"

you check the phone beside you. "ten."

he groans louder, "that's disgusting."

"then go back to sleep."

you expect him to roll away, maybe throw the blanket over his face dramatically, but instead he tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

his hand skims beneath your shirt with a kind of sleepy confidence, palm warm on your bare skin. "mmm, no. this is fine. im good right here."

you snort, "you remember anything from last night, or did it all blur out around the second shot of vodka?"

he hums, "i remember..being amazing. rejecting two girls. saying some very romantic things."

you twist in his arms to face him. he looks like a mess, bed hair, puffy eyes, and a light hicky blooming beneath his jaw, probably your fault.

he blinks slowly at you, then smirks.

"and i remember thinking, very clearly, that my girlfriend is stupidly hot when she's mad at me."

you raise an eyebrow, "you literally climbed me like a tree in the hallway. i had to hold you up while unlocking the door."

"efficient," he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lips. "i was multitasking, admiring you and keeping you warm."

"you made out with my hoodie sleeve,"

he grins, unapologetic. "you were wearing it, that counts."

you press your fingers into his ribs. "chris, you're shameless."

he leans in closer, voice low and unbothered, "i told you i love you last night, didn't i?"

you pause, heart skipping once.

"...you did,"

he hums again, sleepy but smug. "then i meant it."

you blink, "you remember that?"

he nods against your pillow, brushing his nose against yours. "why wouldn't i remember telling you that?"

"because you were drunk,"

"yeah, but i wasn't lying." his voice softens a little, "i don't say stuff like that unless i mean it, you know that."

your heart twists. he's still warm, still a little sleepy and clingy, but there's something steady behind the lazy smile this time.

you push a hand through his hair and he leans into the touch automatically, eyelids fluttering shut like you're the cure to his hangover.

"i love you too," you whisper.

he smirks without opening his eyes. "i know."

he grumbles, burying his face in your chest. "still not moving, though." you give up trying to move at all.

as the day progressed you honestly thought he'd be more flustered.

you expected groaning, maybe hiding under your sheets for two hours, muttering things like "don't look at me" and "i didn't really say soulmate, right?"

but no.

chris rolls out of bed like he didn't practically confess his entire soul twelve hours ago, brushes his teeth, rolls a blunt, and steals a kiss before you can stop him.

-

it's noon now and he's been... weirdly calm.

too calm.

you're on the couch scrolling through your phone when he casually walks by, pretends like he's just going to the kitchen, then backpedals, bends down, and kisses the top of your head.

"what was that for?"

“felt like it,”

ten minutes later, he "accidentally" drops his phone beside you and leans over to grab it, with both arms beside your head, before kissing your cheek like it's nothing.

you narrow your eyes.

"chris,”

"what?" he says, blank-faced.

"you've kissed me three times in the past twenty minutes."

"correction," he says, pressing one to your jaw now. "four."

you blink.

"are you okay?"

"im great," he shrugs, now leaning against the couch like he doesn't have plans at all.

"my girlfriend picked me up from a party, let me fall asleep on her, and told me she loved me. i think im allowed to be annoying for at least twenty-four hours."

"you're being clingy."

he raises a brow. "if i was clingy i'd be-"

he cuts himself off by literally crawling into your lap.

"—doing this."

you laugh. "you're unbelievable."

"mhm." his arms wrap loosely around your waist, his head fitting under your chin as he sighs, all smug and sleepy and completely satisfied. "so you're saying i shouldn't keep kissing you every time I walk past?"

"im saying you're being obvious."

"so?"

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are sharp now, but soft around the edges in that way he only ever is with you.

"I like you," he says, quietly. "a lot."

"i know," you tease, brushing his hair back. "you said it last night, loudly. in front of two girls who were definitely flirting with you."

"yeah." he grins, unrepentant. "that was kind of fun."

you're about to reply when he cuts you off, again, with a kiss. this time slower, deeper, hands cradling your jaw like he's not letting you go for anything.

you melt a little, maybe a lot.

when he pulls you back, he's annoyingly smug.

"you weren't complaining then either,"

you stare at him, dazed. "chris."

he tilts his head, already leaning back in. "just one more,"

you roll your eyes but let him kiss you again anyway. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's gonna keep doing it all day.

hellooo?? I finally wrote something?? yayayayyayay!! big ol' thank you to my dearest rose @bernardsbendystraws for giving me a second opinion, love ya!!

xoxo, truly

[forevvermb]

sober or not, I love you

dealer!chris x reader

matt's text is short and desperate: "chris's being cocky and handsy. save us"

you sigh, toss on your hoodie, and head to the house where the party's been going on for hours.

when you walk in, it's loud, the lighting's weirdly purple, and someone's already passed out on the stairs. you weaved your way through the crowd until you spotted him.

chris is leaning back against the kitchen counter, long legs crossed, drink in hand, eyes low. there are two girls standing close, clearly testing the limits of "friendly."

one of them playfully taps his chest. "you sure you're taken?"

chris just raises an eyebrow, tilting his head like it's the dumbest question he's heard all night. "very."

"what's her name?" the other one challenges.

that smug little smile spreads across his face, "wouldn't give it to you even if you asked nicely."

and then, like clockwork, his red eyes flick up, right over their heads and land on you.

his whole posture shifts. he stands straighter, subtly pushing off the counter, and without a word to the girls, starts walking straight towards you like gravity is dragging him.

you barely open your mouth before he's already in front of you, tall and unapologetically smug.

"hey," he says, voice smooth and low.

"you're drunk? and high?"

he shrugs, "and you're late."

he then leans in, no hesitation, hands finding your waist as he bends down just enough to nuzzle your cheek. his breath smells like lemon-lime soda and something sharper underneath.

"took you long enough."

you roll your eyes, pretending your not melting, "You've got groupies tonight?"

he hums lazily against your skin. "didn't even look at them. waste of time." his fingers slide just under the hem of your hoodie, settling at your hips like it's the most casual thing in the world. "why would I entertain that when I've got you?"

you glare at him, weakly. "you're really drunk."

"im really high," he corrects. "and a little drunk, which makes me honest."

matt walks past with two red solo cups and mutters, "he's been like this for hours."

you sigh, looping an arm around chris's waist to guide him toward the door. He didn't protest, just presses in closer, fingers tapping slow patterns against your side like he can't stop touching you now that your here.

he holds the door open for you, drunkenly bumping into the frame in the process. He then wraps both arms around you from behind as you step into the cool night air.

"i like my hoodie on you," he says into your neck. "even from across the room you looked hot. still do."

you scoff, "you're such a child."

he smirks, lips brushing your ear. "you love it."

and God, maybe you do. especially when he's this warm, this soft, this gentle, even when he smells like cheap vodka and weed.

he doesn't let go of you the entire walk to the car.

not even a little.

one arm wrapped around your waist, the other playing with the strings of your hoodie.

trailing up and down your side like he's memorizing the texture. he's humming under his breath, some random tune you don't recognize, and every couple of steps, he pulls you closer like he's making sure you don't disappear.

you open the passenger door for him and he grins, cocky and loose.

"you're so nice to me, ma," he drawls, leaning in close before getting in. "How'd I land you again?"

"years of being tolerable..and pre-rolls" you deadpan.

he just laughs, low and gravelly, head tilted back as he settles into the seat.

his hand immediately finds your thigh as you start the car— fingers warm through the fabric of your sweats, palm heavy, and claiming. you shoot him a glance.

"you good?"

"mhm," he says, turning his head to stare at you.

"you're so hot when you drive, ma. like—distractingly hot."

you let out a slow breath, "chris,"

"no, no, hear me out," he says, already sliding his hand higher. "you're doing the whole one-hand-on-the-wheel thing? absolute cinema."

you reach over to shove his hand back down—not too hard, but firm. he groans dramatically, flopping his head against the seat.

"rude."

"you're going to forget all of this in the morning."

"nope." he looks at you again, smiling. "burning it into my brain. my girlfriend. my uber driver. my soulmate."

you shake your head. soulmate? well that's a new one.

-

The moment you unlock the apartment door, he's on you again.

shoes kicked off haphazardly, jacket halfway unzipped, cheeks still flushed from the party. he closes the door behind you, then cages you against it without saying a word.

he leans in, lips barely brushing your temple. "you gonna tuck me in, sweetheart?"

"you're a big boy, you can handle yourself," you mutter, trying to breathe normally.

"you're so mean to me," he says, but he's smiling. his hands find your hips again, thumbs slipping under your shirt to press into your bare skin. "s'like you want me to beg."

"you are insufferable when you're drunk."

"but I'm still cute, right?" he asks, dipping down to kiss your neck, slow and lazy. "i love you so much, ma."

you open your mouth to respond, but he's already pulling you toward the couch, still touchy, still attached. he collapses onto it and drags you into his lap like he expected you to follow.

you don't even get a chance to adjust before he's wrapped around you like a human blanket, arms around your waist, face tucked into the crook of your neck, legs tangled with yours.

he exhales deeply.

you snort, "you're ridiculous."

"im in love," he mumbles into your shoulder, tightening his grip just slightly. "with the smartest, hottest, most patient girl in the world. and she came to pick me up like a knight in shining armor. you should get a sword."

"you're gonna be mortified tomorrow."

he grins, eyes closed, completely unbothered, "only if you don't stay here all night."

you go still for a second, then glance down at him, brushing the hair from his forehead.

"...you're already falling asleep."

he hums. "only 'cause you're warm, and pretty, and my spine is melting."

you stay there for a while--him clingy and drunk and too high for his own good. his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, drifting over your sides every so often like he can't help it. even as his breathing slows and his words blur, he doesn't let go.

you run your hands through his hair, take out the pre-rolled blunts and lighter from his pocket and drift off into a comfortable sleep.

-

you wake up to weight.

warm, heavy weight. long limbs tangled with yours, a lazy hand splayed over your stomach, and a slow, groggy breath against the back of your neck.

chris.

you shift slightly and feel him stir behind you, groaning into your shoulder, his voice scratchy and wrecked.

"ugh. what time is it?"

you check the phone beside you. "ten."

he groans louder, "that's disgusting."

"then go back to sleep."

you expect him to roll away, maybe throw the blanket over his face dramatically, but instead he tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

his hand skims beneath your shirt with a kind of sleepy confidence, palm warm on your bare skin. "mmm, no. this is fine. im good right here."

you snort, "you remember anything from last night, or did it all blur out around the second shot of vodka?"

he hums, "i remember..being amazing. rejecting two girls. saying some very romantic things."

you twist in his arms to face him. he looks like a mess, bed hair, puffy eyes, and a light hicky blooming beneath his jaw, probably your fault.

he blinks slowly at you, then smirks.

"and i remember thinking, very clearly, that my girlfriend is stupidly hot when she's mad at me."

you raise an eyebrow, "you literally climbed me like a tree in the hallway. i had to hold you up while unlocking the door."

"efficient," he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lips. "i was multitasking, admiring you and keeping you warm."

"you made out with my hoodie sleeve,"

he grins, unapologetic. "you were wearing it, that counts."

you press your fingers into his ribs. "chris, you're shameless."

he leans in closer, voice low and unbothered, "i told you i love you last night, didn't i?"

you pause, heart skipping once.

"...you did,"

he hums again, sleepy but smug. "then i meant it."

you blink, "you remember that?"

he nods against your pillow, brushing his nose against yours. "why wouldn't i remember telling you that?"

"because you were drunk,"

"yeah, but i wasn't lying." his voice softens a little, "i don't say stuff like that unless i mean it, you know that."

your heart twists. he's still warm, still a little sleepy and clingy, but there's something steady behind the lazy smile this time.

you push a hand through his hair and he leans into the touch automatically, eyelids fluttering shut like you're the cure to his hangover.

"i love you too," you whisper.

he smirks without opening his eyes. "i know."

he grumbles, burying his face in your chest. "still not moving, though." you give up trying to move at all.

as the day progressed you honestly thought he'd be more flustered.

you expected groaning, maybe hiding under your sheets for two hours, muttering things like "don't look at me" and "i didn't really say soulmate, right?"

but no.

chris rolls out of bed like he didn't practically confess his entire soul twelve hours ago, brushes his teeth, rolls a blunt, and steals a kiss before you can stop him.

-

it's noon now and he's been... weirdly calm.

too calm.

you're on the couch scrolling through your phone when he casually walks by, pretends like he's just going to the kitchen, then backpedals, bends down, and kisses the top of your head.

"what was that for?"

“felt like it,”

ten minutes later, he "accidentally" drops his phone beside you and leans over to grab it, with both arms beside your head, before kissing your cheek like it's nothing.

you narrow your eyes.

"chris,”

"what?" he says, blank-faced.

"you've kissed me three times in the past twenty minutes."

"correction," he says, pressing one to your jaw now. "four."

you blink.

"are you okay?"

"im great," he shrugs, now leaning against the couch like he doesn't have plans at all.

"my girlfriend picked me up from a party, let me fall asleep on her, and told me she loved me. i think im allowed to be annoying for at least twenty-four hours."

"you're being clingy."

he raises a brow. "if i was clingy i'd be-"

he cuts himself off by literally crawling into your lap.

"—doing this."

you laugh. "you're unbelievable."

"mhm." his arms wrap loosely around your waist, his head fitting under your chin as he sighs, all smug and sleepy and completely satisfied. "so you're saying i shouldn't keep kissing you every time I walk past?"

"im saying you're being obvious."

"so?"

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are sharp now, but soft around the edges in that way he only ever is with you.

"I like you," he says, quietly. "a lot."

"i know," you tease, brushing his hair back. "you said it last night, loudly. in front of two girls who were definitely flirting with you."

"yeah." he grins, unrepentant. "that was kind of fun."

you're about to reply when he cuts you off, again, with a kiss. this time slower, deeper, hands cradling your jaw like he's not letting you go for anything.

you melt a little, maybe a lot.

when he pulls you back, he's annoyingly smug.

"you weren't complaining then either,"

you stare at him, dazed. "chris."

he tilts his head, already leaning back in. "just one more,"

you roll your eyes but let him kiss you again anyway. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's gonna keep doing it all day.

hellooo?? I finally wrote something?? yayayayyayay!! big ol' thank you to my dearest rose @bernardsbendystraws for giving me a second opinion, love ya!!

xoxo, truly

[forevvermb]

short, yet I felt so much reading this

Chris' scalp is gonna be sore...but so are you...

⚠︎ smut, FIFLTH, i cried writing this, why is he so hot, hair pulling, slight pain kink, lots of spelling errors im literally ?!!!? PUSSY DEVORING.

You were used to his long hair, used to tugging and pulling at the long locks as he straight up devoured you. But that wasn't the case. Not now.

"Fuckin' hell..." he mumbles, his words sluggish and slurred as he licks a stripe through your puffy folds. "-drenched for me, huh?"

The taunt makes something in your stomach curl with excitement. You arch your back further off the bed as he plunges his tongue inside of you, wiggling his nose against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure.

You can't help it. The adjustment to his new hair is different, but it's driving you both insane.

"Oh my, my god, Chris!"

Your scream blisters his skin with a lingering pride. He pulls your thighs tighter around his head, nudging his face impossibly closer to reach even deeper inside of you with his tongue.

"Tastes so fuckin' good, you---god, fuck," he hisses as you tug on his hair. His short hair. The pressure feels a lot more intense, a lot more eurphoric.

He can feel how needy you are.

The desperation in your grip is inspiring.

"Oh my-oh my-oh my god," you cry, your hips flexing and lifting off the bed with pure instinct.

It hurts, but it hurts so good.

His scalp is gonna be sore.

You're both gonna be sore...

short like his hair. i’m genuinely crying why is he so hot. with love and tits covered with tears or wtv tf ROSE 😭💗

[forevvermb]

HELLOOOO??? the biceps???? OH YESSSSS PLEASE 👀👀

[forevvermb]

ugh I hate how I’m so late to this, but FUCK, you never fail to make me feel so much emotions rose, I really started to ball my eyes out thinking that this is my life. I love you rose oh em gee 🥹

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. crying, emotional, angst, fluff, and more

A/N: I’m not ready to let go 😭💔

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ FINAL ] P31: You Don't Own Me

I feel fucking clueless.

Our final project is done. Shawn and I finished it throughout this past week, trying to rush through all the procrastinated work which left me little to no time to think—which I desperately needed to.

There’s not much time to really do anything but panic. I have to make a decision. Only a week left before I have to choose if I’m packing my bags to move with Chris or not.

And I just don’t know.

“Hey, you good?” Matt asks, his voice layered with concern as he stares up at me from his phone. Mia’s sitting with her legs across his lap, the living room full of three of us on both couches.

“Yeah, um,” I nod hesitantly. The anxiety pulses through my veins, the sight of the sun sinking below the horizon outside making my stomach churn. “-’m fine.”

Mia’s lips slide into a subtle pout, her eyes analyzing me with precision as I grow stiff under her gaze. She knows. I don’t have to hear it to understand that she sees how utterly clueless I feel.

“You sure?” Mia chirps, narrowing her eyes as I nod again.

Somehow that girl could just read me—she could read anyone. Chris hates it. She’s called him out a couple times.

One time, he was just…off. I couldn’t explain it, but she called him out for being all sad, saying he should stay out in the living room so all four of us could hang out.

Chris surprisingly didn’t snap back. He nodded, pulling me into his lap while we all nestled in the living room and played random games.

It’s become a routine now. My favorite games are the stupid ones—the random questions of ‘would you rather’ that made us all rally up with the most bizarre explanations.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back,” Matt says, brushing off his jeans as he stands before walking down the hallway.

My hands fiddle in my lap. I hear the bathroom door shut softly, taking a glance up to see Mia fully leaned forward, her eyebrows lifted as she tilts her head to the side.

“So…” Her eyes dart around the room. I hear the click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, wincing as she lets out a heavy sigh. “-you gonna talk or am I gonna have to pry?” she questions.

“It’s just…ugh.” I huff, my eyes squinting shut as I try to block out the overwhelming thoughts that had been echoing in my mind every minute of every day.

“I don’t know what to do. Nothing…nothing seems like the right thing to do. Staying here without Chris…like…why? What’s the point? I’d have his family but that…I don’t know…it doesn’t…ugh.” 

My words roll off my tongue with a loud sigh. Mia squints her eyes at me, rolling her lips together before shrugging. “-well—what’s holding you back?” she asks. 

“I…I don’t wanna feel like this is it for me—like I’m only doing it for him, you know?” Mia nods at my words, her eyes full of compassion as she offers a sympathetic smile. “-I just…I think I need to talk to some people first.” 

“Yeah,” she puffs, planting her hands on her knees as she lets out a heavy breath, “-I agree. Go talk, go think—really think for yourself, then make a decision.”

___

He’s rambling. Baylen has been speaking for at least five minutes, telling me the perfect option instead of going with Chris. 

“-Ryan probably won’t mind—we have a spare room in our apartment, you could stay–”

“Baylen.” 

His name falling off my lips in a sullen tone makes his lips fall open wordlessly. I twiddle my fingers together, my eyes darting out the living room window as I feel Trevor scoot closer against my thigh. 

The sunlight beams in through the windows. It feels odd to haven Baylen over here, but Chris said it was better if I invited him over here to talk. He was right. I couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the house I grew up in—I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to give another bittersweet goodbye to everything within those walls. 

I roll my lips together. My nose twitches as I feel Baylen’s gaze burn into me. “Ryan…he’s my ex. We dated years ago.” I mention.

His face drops. He shakes his head, his lips smacking open and shut before he lets out a dry laugh. “Wow…I…I really don’t know you, huh?” he tuts, his voice strained. 

I reach over, placing my hand on his shoulder. He stays deathly still. His hands stay rested in his lap, his gaze trained towards the floor as he stares blankly. 

“It’s not your fault, I didn’t tell you—”

“He’s right—Chris.” 

My eyes narrow. Baylen moves, his hand resting on top of mine before he pulls my hand off his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“You…you should go with him, I…” he shakes his head, turning towards me with sad eyes, “-I don’t get to try and swoop in and act like I deserve to be there for you now. You…he’s proven himself a lot. He—he deserves to have you—you deserve to heal.” 

My bottom lip wobbles. I feel a wave of warmth crawl over my face, my cheeks growing hot as my vision starts to blur. 

“Baylen, you tried your best—”

“No. I didn’t.” he says, a soft smile etched over his features. “-I tried my best for me, not for you. Chris…he can take care of you—he has taken care of you. I’m here when you need me, but,” his eyes flicker over my face, his lips tugging into a sympathetic frown, “-but you deserve to feel safe and heal. I…I can’t give that to you right now. He can.” 

His hand squeezes mine. I feel the tears in my eyes flooding my sight, my eyes squinting as I feel a warm streak of wetness glide down my cheek. Baylen tugs my hand tighter, pulling me into his chest before wrapping his arms around me tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks, his arms cradling me closer, “-’m sorry and…and…I hope I can be the brother you deserve one day.” 

A sharp cry leaves my lips. My hands are pressed between both of us as he tightens his arms around me. 

Years of confusion, years of feeling so alone, so hurt. I finally feel validated. All of it was for a reason. He didn’t just stop loving me one day—it wasn’t my fault. It all makes sense. 

And even though it hurts, there’s still hope. 

___

“I’ll get it, just…just sit down.” 

Chris is anxiously pulling any box I try to lift into his own arms. Jimmy and Matt helped us bring over a bunch of stuff yesterday, we had yet to unpack the stacks and piles of everything.

The vacation home was filled with new stuff. My own picture of Baylen and I is sitting on top of the fireplace mantle. It’s a photo of us in his room from a week ago. We tried to recreate the blanket of forts we used to make, he insisted on capturing a good moment so I would have a reminder of him. 

I really liked it.

My hands latch onto a small bin. The plastic handles are snatched from my grip before I can even comprehend what’s going on. I look up with a shocked expression. Chris spares me a quick smile, turning with the box in his own hands before carrying it down the hallway. 

Looking around, I shake my head, rolling my eyes as I see the lack of boxes. I had yet to even carry one successfully. Chris had taken care of every single one, practically running back and forth so there would be no opportunity for me to pitch in and help.

“Here let me—oh? That’s all of them?” Chris pants, out of breath as he scratches the back of his neck. 

I shake my head with disbelief, plopping down on the couch. Chris sits next to me. His weight dibbets the sofa cushions, making me lean into him more. 

A wave of silence beams over us. I look over to see his eyes glazed over, concern laced in his features as he stares forward with his brows scrunched together. 

Moving, I swing my leg over his lap, plopping myself on his thighs. His hands immediately latch onto my waist. Chris stares up at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, his fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of my shirt. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks. 

I tilt my head, cocking an eyebrow as I let out a huff. “Are you?” I quip. 

“Um, I…” He lets out a sigh as I comb my hands through his hair. His eyes shut as he lets out a shaky breath. 

“What’s wrong, Chris?” I interrogate, worried as his eyes fall with a sullen glaze of sadness. 

“Are you…are you sure about this? I mean, it’s a lot, we’re moving in together—”

“Chris.” I cut off, watching as his eyes drift back up to mine with uncertainty, “-I want this, I want to be with you. Why are you still overthinking so much? I chose to come.” 

He sighs. His hands grip my hips tighter, swarming up to my waist before he lets out a shaky breath. “I just…I don’t want you to feel like I’m controlling you—or like I own you—”

I place my hands on his shoulders. Leaning forward, I let my lips press against his gently. The kiss is brutally soft, a gentle pucker echoing. 

Pulling away, I laugh at his dazed expression. His lashes slowly flutter open, his eyes darting into mine with a glow of adoration. 

“I know you don’t control me, Chris, I…” I cup his cheek, my lips tugging into a smile as he leans into my touch, “-you don’t own me—but…but my heart belongs to you.” 

His face brightens with joy. I smile as he tugs me in a tight embrace, laughing as he peppers kisses on the side of my head. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips over my jawline and towards the corner of my mouth, “-I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

The chanted mantra makes my heart flutter in my chest. I let myself melt in his hold, smiling as he continues to mutter the same words under his breath. 

“Chris,” I giggle. 

He pulls away just enough for our eyes to meet. The shit-eating grin on his face makes it hard for me to bite back a painful smile. 

“Can you say that again?” he asks. 

“Hmmm….” I pretend to wonder, looking aimlessly around the room before feeling his hands squeeze my waist to pull my attention back to him. He looks into my eyes with hope and pure devotion. I feel my cheeks ache, my smile growing as I bathe in his dreamy eyes. “-what did I say?” 

Chris bites lightly onto his bottom lip. “You know…” His tongue prods from the inside of his cheek, his eyes glowing with love. “-you don’t own me, but…” 

He repeats my words, his gaze searching into my own while his hands give a reassuring squeeze on my waist. 

I let my vision blur, my eyes only blurring everything except for him. Biting back a smile, I let the words float off my lips;

“You don’t own me…but my heart belongs to you.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading along and showing any sort of support! I've adored writing this series and I hope you enjoyed reading! Thank you <333

with love and big tits, rose

[forevvermb]

୨⎯ 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⎯୧

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

dealer!chris x reader

y/n and chris don’t post on Instagram much, especially each other but it’s adorable when they do. It’s kinda like a soft launch, but they obviously they aren’t dating, right?

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

y/n.y/l/n

liked by christophersturniolo, matthew.sturniolo and others

y/n.y/l/n starting to bloom

matthew.sturniolo:so that’s where my rings went ♥︎ by author

christophersturniolo: i like flowers too yk ♥︎ by author

y/n.y/l/n: you like weed, I like lilies we’re not the same 😔

sturniologirl_37: stunning as always y/n ♥︎ by author

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

christophersturniolo

liked by y/n.y/l/n, nicolassturniolo and 867,479 others

christophersturniolo dream blunt rotation

y/n.y/l/n: never tried weed b4 👀

christophersturniolo: nice try gorgeous

freshlovelover: and they say they’re just friends 🤨

nicolassturniolo: that dress looks phenomenal on y/n

y/n.y/l/n: thank you king 😇

christophersturniolo: I bought it so you should be thanking me

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

fans always think that theres somthing between y/n and chris, something that goes on behind the cameras, behind social media. I guess no one knows but y/n and chris.

haii!! tysm for 200 followers!! here’s more dealer!chris for you guys, yall seemed to really like the intro so here’s some insta posts that were made by chris and reader!! Also lmk if any of yall wanna be added to the dealer!chris au taglist! :3

tags: @owensbabygirl

[forevvermb]

introducing..dealer!chris

Chris. - hotboxes his car right before he picks you up, the smell of Dior sauvage and weed all over him, always blazing in the morning, lovessssss jewelry, in love with y/n but only ever shows it when they're alone.

dealer!chris who looooooovesssss high sex.

dealer!chris who always has pre-rolled blunts on his nightstand.

dealer!chris who is either super hyper or super sleepy when high.

dealer!chris who has y/n face printed on his lighter.

dealer!chris who always has an 'emergency bunt' on him.

dealer!chris who has the most insane munchies after a smoke sesh.

dealer!chris who has to stay away from sativa strains because he always ends up being horny 24/7.

dealer!chris who is both book smart and street smart.

dealer!chris who never lets y/n come with him on deliveries but always ends up letting her go, he cant say no to her pretty face.

dealer!chris who has a sticker that says 'passenger princess' in cursive on the passenger side mirror.

i literally cannot wait to write more of dealer!chris, but for right now, here's his introduction. :3