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luvjaeeee · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 | 𝐂.𝐒 & 𝐌.𝐒 ― 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ P power , GUNNA & Drake

chris sturniolo! & matt sturniolo! x f!reader

WARNINGS : smut, dom!chratt, kinda eiffel tower, p in v, unprotected sex, tittyfucking, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, spitting, creampie, aftercare, (no incest obv, usage of "slut" and talk of "milking"

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+

You’re on all fours—back arched, chest slick with spit, thighs trembling from how long they’ve had you like this.

Chris is behind you, one hand planted on the small of your back, the other gripping your hip tight enough to bruise. His cock is buried deep, thick and pulsing inside your soaked cunt as he fucks you with long, punishing thrusts. He drags out slowly until only the swollen head sits inside you, then slams back in—sharp, deep, possessive.

“Listen to that,” he groans, hips slapping into your ass hard, over and over, obscene squelching filling the room as your pussy clenches around him. “Fucking messy, baby. You hear how wet you are for me?”

Each thrust punches a moan out of you, your arms shaking beneath you, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth as Chris uses you like he owns you. His cock hits every perfect spot inside, your body twitching when the head of him brushes your cervix just right.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, sweat dripping from his brow. “Gripping me like a fuckin’ vice, baby god—”

In front of you, Matt is lounging—shirt open, belt undone, cock hard and twitching as you squeeze your tits around it. He’s been letting you work him with your chest while Chris destroys your pussy from behind, and he looks wrecked. Face flushed, chest rising in sharp breaths, eyes glued to the sight of your tits bouncing while his cock slides through them, wet with your spit.

“Fuuck,” Matt groans, his hips twitching up gently into the softness of your breasts. “Do that again. Spit on it, baby.”

You glance up at him, breathless, then tilt your head and let a slow string of spit fall right onto the head of his cock. It drips down, thick and warm, mixing with the sheen already smeared across your chest. He hisses, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“That’s it. Shit—makes it slide so easy,” he pants, fucking his cock through your tits harder now, your cleavage hugging every inch. “So fuckin’ hot. You like my cock between these pretty tits?”

Your smile is lazy, fucked out. “You tell me,” you whisper, then lean forward just enough to drag your tongue over the leaking tip.

Matt groans like he’s been punched, eyes fluttering shut. “Jesus Christ, you're fuckin' perfect—our fuckin' pretty good girl, huh?”

Behind you, Chris is panting harder, pace turning feral. His thrusts are brutal now, fucking up into you with loud, wet slaps, cock bullying your cunt deeper with each snap of his hips.

“You gonna come on my cock again?” he growls, leaning forward to slap your ass once—then again, harder.

“You feel that? Feel how deep I am in this tight fucking pretty pussy?”

You choke on a moan, body jolting forward. Your legs are shaking, cunt fluttering around him. He can feel you starting to lose it—starting to fall apart completely, all around him.

Matt pulls his cock from your tits, eyes dark with hunger. “Open that mouth, baby. Wanna feel that sweet throat.”

Your mouth falls open immediately, still leaking spit from the mess you made earlier, and Matt wastes no time. He grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock forward, pressing past your lips and into the tight heat of your throat with one deep, smooth thrust.

You gag—just slightly—but take him anyway, relaxing around the intrusion, tongue pressing against the underside of him as he holds you there.

“Fuck—fuck yes,” he hisses, hips trembling. “So warm… fuckin’ perfect mouth. Don’t move. Let me use it.”

Chris growls low at the sight, slowing just enough to watch Matt fuck your throat while he drives into your cunt. He stares at the way your face looks stretched and ruined around Matt’s cock, your spit clinging to his shaft every time he drags it out before thrusting right back in.

“She’s gagging on it,” Chris groans, grabbing your ass tighter. “You’re making her choke.”

“Good,” Matt spits. “She can take it.”

You’re moaning nonstop now—muffled around Matt’s cock, back arching as Chris pounds into your soaked cunt harder, deeper, rougher. Your pussy clenches, your throat tightens, and your whole body burns.

Chris leans forward, breath hot on your spine. “You want it?” he grunts. “Want us to fucking fill you up?”

You nod as best you can with Matt buried down your throat, a soft whimper slipping from your lips.

Matt thrusts once more, then pulls out just enough to let you breathe—only to shove back in, rough and deep, groaning as he hits the back of your throat.

Your lips stretch wide around him, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth as you gag softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t slow down—his grip tightens in your hair, controlling the angle of your head, hips rolling forward with practiced force.

“Fuck—yeah, just like that,” he pants, watching your throat bulge around the thickness of him. “God, you’re fucking choking on it.”

Your fingers dig into his thighs for stability, body shaking from the force of it—Chris still pounding into your dripping cunt from behind while Matt ruins your throat from the front.

You’re caught between them, filled in every way, stretched and fucked and held in place like their favorite toy.

Matt groans low in his chest, teeth clenched, eyes glued to your flushed, tear-streaked face. “You love it, huh? Mouth so goddamn wet for me. So pretty with your throat stuffed full.”

Chris loses it first.

“Fuck, fuck—I’m gonna come,” he growls, hips slamming into you one last time as his cock throbs, spilling inside you. His cum fills your pussy in hot, heavy spurts, dripping around his cock and down your thighs. “Take it. Take all of it, fuck.”

You scream around Matt’s cock, shaking, sobbing, coming again as Chris fucks his warm come deeper and deeper into your cunt, covering your walls.

Matt jerks out of your mouth, fisting himself fast and messy. “Open up,” he pants. “Tongue out.”

You do—eyes half-lidded, tongue coated in spit—and Matt groans as he comes hard, thick ropes hitting your mouth, chin, tits, even your throat. “Fuckfuck, take it—just like that.”

You swallow what you can, dazed, messy, gasping for air.

Chris spreads your pussy with two fingers to watch his cum leak out of you, while Matt smears the last of his release over your tongue with the tip of his cock.

They both stare at you, wrecked and perfect on your knees, your mouth and pussy used, your chest painted in spit and cum.

“Fuck,” Chris breathes. “She was made for this.”

Matt smirks, voice low and wrecked. “Gonna keep her like this.”

Your limbs feel boneless—shoulders slumped, thighs trembling, mouth raw, cunt aching, every inch of your skin humming from where they touched you.

“Shit,” Chris breathes, voice much softer now as he brushes a hand down your spine. “You okay, baby?”

You nod faintly, cheek resting against the cool pillow beneath you, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

You’re wrecked—thoroughly fucked-out—but you’re okay. More than okay.

Matt’s already tucking himself back in, but not before grabbing a warm towel from the bathroom. You barely notice until something soft and wet presses to your chest, wiping away the mess he left behind with slow, careful strokes.

“Still breathing?” he teases lightly, crouching in front of you, his free hand cupping your jaw. “You did so fuckin’ good.”

You hum weakly, letting your eyes open enough to meet his. His gaze is calmer now, still intense—but not hungry. Just focused. Attentive. Like he’s trying to see if he pushed too far.

Behind you, Chris eases his cock from your pussy, exhaling low through his nose when he sees just how much of him spills out with the motion. He watches it for a moment, then reaches for another towel, gently parting your legs to clean you up with quiet reverence.

“You’re shaking,” he says softly. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t ask—you’re already reaching for him before he finishes speaking. He helps flip you over gently and pulls you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist as he rocks you close. His lips brush your temple. “That was a lot,” he murmurs. “You were so good for us.”

Matt slides in beside you on the bed, arms folded behind his head as he watches you snuggle into Chris’s chest. Then he lifts one hand, brushing some hair out of your face. “Gotta say… never seen someone take both of us like that before.”

You laugh hoarsely—just a breath of sound—and Matt smirks.

Chris rests his chin on top of your head. “We’re not done with you,” he says, voice low but gentle. “But right now? You just stay here. Let us take care of you.”

You nod against him, completely limp and content, body sore and blissful.

Matt leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder. “We’ll get you some water, baby,” he says. “Then we’ll hold you all fucking night.”

And they do.

well good morning from me everyone !! noticed a weird lack of chratt fics lately soo..

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

🐚 - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @ivydre4ms @raes-library @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pip4444chris @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @courta13 @divinesturn @aaliyahsturniolo @chris-hallelujah @mi-co-uk @ivysturnss @sweetpeabreezyree @christophersgf @bluestriips @angelic-sturniolos111 @shadowthesim237 @moond0llie @eeyoresturnz @ellssturn @fratbrochrisgf @teddystvrns @pvssychicken @ribbonlovergirl @chrisspussygang @vanteguccir @tits4matt @bambisturns @luvs4matt @delilahsturniolo @fadedstvrn @ariieeesworld @oopsiedaisydeer @rubyychriss @babyt0matoes @kenah-sturniolo @desturns @ifwdominicfike @sturns-mermaid @pair-of-pantaloons @bbgirlmatt @backwardshatnick @gregs-child <3

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luvjaeeee · 2 days ago

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m e a n i e c . s

i n w h i c h . . . chris prolongs your release when you whine, and then gives you four more.

w a r n i n g s . . . orgasm prolonging, multiple orgasms, smut, stomach bulge, degradation, crying, comfort

the sex felt mindless. detached. it was frankly pissing chris off, his movements sloppy and lazy.

your body was trembling, every nerve frayed from how close you were — how unfairly close — when he pulled out without warning. just like that. gone. empty. aching.

you gasped, eyes snapping open, chest heaving as your thighs instinctively tried to close, to hold onto something that wasn’t there anymore. but all you got was the sting of abandonment and the unbearable throb of denied pleasure.

“what the fuck,” you breathed, voice shaking more from betrayal than from exhaustion. “are you serious right now?”

he just stared down at you, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling like he was the one on edge. like he was the one about to break.

“you think you get to come that easy after the shit you pulled?” he muttered, low and cutting. his voice was calm — terrifyingly so — and it made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

your jaw dropped. “i didn’t even—”

“exactly.” he leaned in, nose brushing yours, that stupid, infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you didn’t do anything. didn’t apologize. didn’t beg. didn’t even say my name the way i like.” he tilted his head. “why would i let you finish?”

your hands clenched the sheets. tears of frustration welled in your eyes — not from hurt, but from the sheer tension knotted in your stomach, throbbing between your legs like a cruel punishment. “you’re such an asshole.”

“mhmm.” he pressed a single kiss to your lips. “but you like that.”

“i hate you.”

“no, baby,” he cooed, thumbing your swollen bottom lip. “you hate that you need me to cum. and i’m not gonna give it to you.”

you stared at him, burning, furious, unbearably needy — and he was already backing away, wiping himself off like he hadn’t just wrecked you without mercy.

“chris,” you warned, voice breaking. “don’t you fucking walk away.”

he paused at the door. glanced back.

“then don’t give me a reason to,” he said simply, and disappeared into the hallway.

you screamed into the pillow. and shit, you hated how much you still wanted him.

you laid there for a long moment, body still trembling, thighs clenched so tight it hurt. the silence in the room was deafening — not peaceful, not calm, but taunting. it mocked you. echoed your pulse. pulsed in sync with the empty ache between your legs.

your hand twitched at your side. you considered finishing yourself — just out of spite. just to feel something other than the shameful burn of need.

but it wouldn’t be the same. it never was. not after chris. so you didn’t.

you wrapped the sheet around your chest and stumbled off the bed, legs wobbly and weak, more from rage than anything. padding into the hallway, you found him in the kitchen — shirtless, sipping water like he hadn’t just ruined you on purpose. like he hadn’t just played god with your orgasm and walked away whistling.

“you think that was funny?” your voice cracked. you hated that it cracked.

he didn’t even look at you at first. just set the glass down and turned, slow, deliberate, leaning back on the counter. “wasn’t meant to be funny,” he said. “meant to teach you a lesson.”

“about what?” you hissed. “about how to become a fucking lunatic? congrats, chris. i’m there.”

his eyes flicked over you — the sheet, the flushed cheeks, the unsteady posture. “lesson about how actions have consequences,” he said smoothly, walking toward you. “and that maybe next time, you’ll think twice before pretending you don’t care.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but he was already there, tilting your chin up with a single finger.

“you came in here looking to argue. as usual.” he said, voice low, “but all i see is someone who still wants to cum, huh?”

you slapped his hand away. “you don’t get to control me like this.”

“i’m not controlling you,” he murmured. “i’m making you honest.”

and before you could reply — before you could say another word — he grabbed your wrist, spun you around, and bent you over the counter.

“chris—” you gasped, the sheet slipping off your body, heat flooding every nerve.

“you think i don’t want you?” he growled into your ear. “you think it doesn’t kill me not to cum in this messy cunt?”

he pushed just the head in, slow, punishing, and you whimpered.

“this time,” he said through clenched teeth, “you’ll fucking scream for it.”

he didn’t move.

just the tip — barely nestled inside, stretched enough to ache but not enough to satisfy. your fingers gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white, breath coming in sharp little gasps as your thighs trembled.

“chris,” you whimpered, trying to push back against him, just enough to take more, to pull him deeper.

his hand came down hard across your ass. a sharp smack. you yelped.

“don’t,” he warned. “you don’t get to set the pace.”

he rocked his hips — shallow, infuriatingly slow — just enough for the head to slip in and out, dragging against that first ring of resistance. you choked on a moan, back arching, your body betraying you completely.

“this is what you wanted, right?” he murmured, voice low and cruel. “wanted to be put in your place. wanted to be reminded who you belong to.”

“you’re such a dick,” you gasped, eyes stinging from frustration, from pleasure that refused to peak.

he leaned down, chest against your back, one hand wrapping around your throat as he pushed in just a little deeper—then pulled out again.

“and,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear, “you’re dripping all over me.”

you could feel it — the mess between your thighs, the humiliating slickness he was smearing all over with nothing more than the head of his cock. every time he rocked forward, it dragged through you, hot and swollen and soaked.

“please,” you breathed, and hated how desperate it sounded. “chris, please.”

he stilled. stayed right at the edge. unmoving. cock twitching against you.

“you gonna be good?” he asked.

you nodded furiously.

“say it.”

“i’ll be good,” you whispered. “i’ll be so fucking good, i swear—”

but he didn’t move.

he just pulled out again, rubbing himself through your folds like he wasn’t wrecking you slowly, deliberately.

“you think you deserve it?” he asked, now lazily trailing the tip up toward your clit and back down again.

“yes—“

he pressed the head in again. just the head. you bit your lip so hard you tasted blood.

“you haven’t earned it yet,” he said simply, cruelly, and god—you might’ve cried.

he was merciless.

he didn’t push in. didn’t give you what you were aching for, what your body screamed for. no — all he gave you was the thick, swollen head of his cock, nudging just barely past your entrance, then pulling out again. slow. calculated. cruel.

“c’mon,” he murmured, thumb brushing the base of your spine as he kept you bent over the counter. “you’re the one who said you didn’t need me.”

you were shaking, chest pressed to the cold marble, cheek turned, lips parted as you panted. “chris,” you whimpered, the name leaving you like a sob. “please—i can’t—”

“you can.” his voice was low, cruelly gentle. “you will.”

he rocked forward again, just enough for the tip to slip in, warm and thick and teasing right against that oversensitive entrance. he held it there, hands gripping your hips so tight it left bruises.

and then he started to move.

not fully — just that inch, back and forth, shallow thrusts that barely scraped at your walls but somehow still had your legs buckling. the friction built fast. too fast. too much.

“fuck,” you moaned, high and broken, your voice echoing in the kitchen. “it’s not enough—”

“then why are you already close?” he growled.

his grip on your hips tightened, and he kept that brutal rhythm — shallow, deliberate, precise. the tip hit just right, again and again, your swollen, aching walls gripping for more that never came. but it didn’t matter. it was too much and not enough all at once.

he reached forward and slipped his fingers between your thighs, finding your clit with practiced ease. rubbed tight circles, slow and filthy, while his cock teased you open just barely.

“gonna come just like this,” he muttered. “just on the tip.”

“i c-can’t—” your whole body was shaking, voice trembling as tears pricked your lashes. “chris, please—”

“look at you,” he cooed, “crying over a cock that’s not even inside you.”

and that broke you.

your body seized, thighs quivering as the orgasm hit — sudden, sharp, and humiliatingly intense. you cried out, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open and trembling as your walls clamped down around nothing. around just the tip.

he held you through it, fingers working you through every last wave, until you were a gasping, twitching mess against the counter.

and still — he didn’t push in.

“that’s one,” he said softly, brushing your hair from your damp face. “now beg me for the next.”

your breath caught on a sob, your thighs trembling, your core still pulsing around the emptiness he left inside you — or worse, almost inside you. it felt cruel, unnatural, unbearable. you couldn’t stop shaking, body still wracked with aftershocks that hadn’t fully ebbed, and he hadn’t even given you more than the tip.

and now he was standing behind you again, lazily stroking himself, your slick still shining on his skin.

“you feel that?” he whispered, running the head along your overstimulated folds, dragging slow. “you’re still soaking. messier than before.”

“chris,” you whimpered, face turned against the cold marble. “don’t—don’t make me beg.”

“i’m not making you do anything,” he murmured, leaning in. his lips ghosted over your ear, slow and low. “but if you want to come again? you will beg. and if you want me to fuck you—really fuck you? you’ll forget your pride.”

you stayed quiet.

and he pulled back.

“wait—wait!” you gasped, twisting around, reaching for him, tears in your eyes now. frustration, yes. but more than that. shame. need. aching need. “please,” you whispered. “please, chris. i need more. i can’t take just the tip anymore, i swear—i’ll do anything.”

he tilted his head, eyes dark with something mean and satisfied.

“then show me,” he said simply.

you dropped to your knees.

your palms hit the kitchen floor. knees spread, forehead pressed to the tile. it was humiliating. it was desperate. it was exactly what he wanted.

“good girl,” he breathed, stepping behind you again. he dragged himself along your folds one more time, the swollen head catching your entrance. “stay just like that.”

and he did it again.

just the tip.

back in, slow and shallow. dragging, teasing. and now you were so sensitive, your whole body twitched with every motion.

you let out a noise — something between a moan and a cry — as he picked up the rhythm, still not fully inside you, but fast enough to drive you insane. his fingers dug into your hips. your knees started to slide. the sounds were obscene.

“you gonna come again?” he asked, and you hated how proud he sounded. “gonna fall apart with just this?”

you nodded, face still against the floor. “yes—yes, chris, i’m—”

your voice caught again.

this one was even worse than the first. you shattered with a scream, legs collapsing, body going limp as wave after wave tore through you. and still he didn’t push in. still he didn’t finish.

you were crying now. overwhelmed. destroyed.

he leaned over you, kissed the back of your neck.

“that’s two,” he whispered. “you still want the rest?”

you nodded, broken.

he smiled, slow and wicked.

“then get back on the counter.”

your legs barely worked. they shook beneath you, slick with sweat and tears and everything he’d pulled from you without even giving you what you needed. your body throbbed with overstimulation, your thighs sticking together as you tried to move. but you did. because you had to. because when chris told you to get back on the counter, there wasn’t another choice.

you reached up, pulling yourself onto the marble, chest heaving, arms trembling under your weight. your cheek pressed to the cold surface, and your legs dangled, spread open behind you as you barely managed to stay propped on your knees.

you heard him behind you. the quiet smack of skin against skin as he stroked himself, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

he came closer.

his hand smoothed up your spine. his other gripped your hip, guiding you into place. “look at you,” he murmured. “ruined. still begging.”

you didn’t speak.

you couldn’t.

and he didn’t wait.

this time, there was no warning. no teasing. no more mercy.

he slammed into you in one sharp thrust, burying himself to the hilt — and your scream was raw, high-pitched, completely involuntary. your back arched, body locking up as the stretch hit like lightning. finally. he was inside. thick, deep, pulsing.

“there she is,” he groaned into your ear, his hand fisting your hair. “this what you needed? is this what you begged for?”

you sobbed out something that might’ve been a yes, your hands scrambling for grip on the counter as he pulled back and rammed into you again. and again. and again.

his pace was brutal. merciless. all control was gone now — his, yours — and he fucked into you like he had something to prove.

your body, already sensitive, couldn’t handle it. everything was white-hot. your vision blurred. your skin flushed. and the noises — the slick, filthy slap of skin on skin, the way you couldn’t stop moaning his name, the way he kept whispering how tight you were, how good you felt around him — it all pushed you higher.

“chris, i—i’m—” you choked out, tears running down your cheeks. “again, i’m gonna—”

“good,” he growled. “you’re not done ‘til i say you’re done.”

and then he brought his hand to your throat again, pulling you up by it, your back pressed to his chest now as he fucked you from behind, fully in, deep and fast and relentless.

your orgasm hit like a fucking explosion.

your scream echoed through the kitchen, loud and desperate and cracked, as your body convulsed around him, squeezing him so tight he cursed under his breath.

he didn’t stop.

not even when you collapsed onto the counter.

not even when you begged.

he just leaned over you, lips at your ear, and said—

“that’s three. now take one more for good measure.”

his hand slid from your throat, down your chest, over your stomach — hot and firm, fingers splayed as he pressed, slow and deliberate, right over that soft, swollen bulge.

“feel that?” he murmured darkly against your ear. “that’s me. that’s how deep i am.”

your eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping your lips as the pressure made everything worse — or better — you couldn’t tell anymore. your stomach twitched under his touch, your body already so wrecked you didn’t know where the pain ended and the pleasure began.

he pushed a little harder, palm digging in, and you felt it — the way his cock nudged something deep inside you, the faintest resistance, the unbearable fullness. it was obscene. intimate. wrong, maybe — but your body responded with a helpless clench around him anyway.

“look how far you’re letting me in,” he whispered, lips brushing your neck, his hips still snapping into yours, slower now, but deeper. filthier. “you’re taking all of me. like you were made for it.”

you sobbed something — a yes, maybe. a plea. a prayer.

his thumb circled the spot on your stomach, watching how your body tensed every time he pressed down and moved his hips in sync. like he owned your insides. like you were his to rearrange.

and god, he was so fucking deep.

“i can feel myself inside you,” he groaned, pressing just a little harder. “right here. stretching you out from the inside.”

you were gone. eyes unfocused. jaw slack. nothing in you had the strength to pretend anymore — not to fight, not to protest, not even to beg.

and he knew it.

he slid his other hand between your legs again, two fingers working your clit as he pushed up into you with a devastating roll of his hips, thumb still holding that soft bulge in your belly like he could mark you from the inside.

“one more,” he murmured. “you can give me one more. i want you to come while you feel how deep i am.”

and with his cock buried to the hilt, his hand pressing against your belly, and his fingers rubbing perfect circles over your clit — you did.

your body shattered around him, trembling and clenching and sobbing as the orgasm hit you harder than any before, your thighs twitching, stomach jumping beneath his palm. and even as you screamed, even as your body went limp — chris was still fucking you through it.

your body gave out before your voice did.

you were sobbing — not dramatic or performative, just real, guttural, raw. it tore from your chest before you could stop it, hiccuping around your breath as your limbs trembled against the counter, your face wet with tears, your body wrecked in every way imaginable.

“chris,” you choked out, broken and small. “i can’t—i can’t anymore.”

and instantly, everything changed.

his rhythm stilled. the grip on your waist loosened. and then, so gently it made the tears come harder, he slipped out of you and caught you before you could fully collapse.

“shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he lowered both of you to the floor, letting your back rest against his chest. his hand cradled your head. his lips pressed to your temple, over and over. “i’ve got you. i’ve got you, baby.”

you sobbed into his shoulder, hands clinging to his arms like you were afraid he’d disappear. your body still trembled, overwhelmed and spent, but now the ache was emotional — too much, too fast, too deep.

he rocked you slowly, whispering soft apologies, his voice a stark contrast to the one that had ruined you minutes ago. “i’m sorry. i pushed too far. i’m so sorry.”

you shook your head against him. “no… i just… i don’t know why i’m crying.”

“it’s okay,” he murmured. “you don’t have to know. you don’t have to explain anything.”

he pulled a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around both of you, tucking you into his lap like something fragile. his hand smoothed over your thigh, your back, your ribs — grounding you with touch.

“you’re okay,” he said softly. “you’re safe. i’ve got you now. you did so good.”

you hiccuped. “i felt everything. it was too much—”

“i know,” he whispered. “i know, baby. you held it in for so long.”

you curled into him tighter, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, like a balm. and for a long, long while, he just held you. no teasing. no games. just warmth and steady breath, chest to chest, skin to skin.

and when your tears finally started to slow, when the trembling dulled into something quieter, he kissed your damp cheek and whispered again—

“i love you,” he said, barely audible. “even when i have to be mean. even when you cry.”

and somehow, that made you cry a little more. but it didn’t hurt this time.

not with him holding you like that.

you didn’t answer at first.

you couldn’t.

you just let yourself melt into him, boneless and quiet, his warmth pressed against every trembling part of you. your breath hitched now and then, like your body hadn’t fully caught up to the calm. your eyes were sore, your cheeks flushed, and your thighs still ached from how hard they’d clenched. but none of it mattered now. not with the way he was holding you — like you were glass and he hated himself for even nudging a crack.

“say something,” he whispered, voice hoarse, nose buried in your hair.

you swallowed hard.

“you love me?” you asked, voice barely above a breath.

his arms tightened instantly. he shifted just enough to pull you fully into his lap, both of your bodies tucked into the oversized blanket now. he looked down at you with eyes that weren’t cocky or taunting — just stripped. open. bare.

“yeah,” he said, no hesitation. “i do. even when you drive me crazy. even when i get in my own head and pull shit like that.”

your lip wobbled. “you… you were so mean.”

he closed his eyes. exhaled sharp through his nose. “i know. i was trying to prove something. trying to get you to feel how much i need you, even when i don’t know how to say it.”

you pressed your cheek to his chest. “there are softer ways to say it.”

his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “i’ll learn ‘em. if you let me. i just—i get scared sometimes. scared you’ll stop needing me back.”

you looked up at him, eyes still glossy. “chris. i don’t think you realize what you do to me.”

“i didn’t cry because you hurt me. i cried because i couldn’t handle how much i felt. because you don’t just fuck me, you undo me.”

something in his expression broke — softened. he reached up and cradled your jaw, brushing his thumb along your cheek like he needed to memorize every part of you.

“i don’t ever want to make you cry unless it’s from feeling too much love,” he whispered.

you let out a soft, tired laugh. “then you succeeded. idiot.”

he kissed you then. slow. grounding. nothing like earlier — no dominance, no teasing. just lips against lips, like an apology and a promise rolled into one.

you sighed into it, and when he pulled back, you stayed close.

“you want a bath?” he murmured. “or to lie down?”

“just you,” you whispered. “for a little while. just this.”

he nodded, resting his forehead against yours, arms wrapped tightly around your body. “then you’ve got me. all night.”

and this time, when your eyes welled again, it wasn’t from pain or frustration or overload.

it was relief.

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luvjaeeee · 3 days ago

Text

𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝐜.𝐬.

now playing: GUESS - charli xcx & billie eilish

warnings: rough sex, dom!chris, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), light choking, spanking (once)

word count: 1.7k

chris hums, staring at you sitting on the bed in front of him. “the pink ones?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head as if he could see through the oversized t-shirt you were wearing.

“nope!” you giggle, hugging your legs tighter to your chest, your grin smug.

he sighs dramatically and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “hmm… the white ones with the lace trim?”

you shake your head, biting your lip as his eyes drop to your bare thighs. “wrong again.”

chris pouts, reaching out to tug at the hem of your shirt playfully. “c’mon, baby, give me a hint.”

you arch a brow. “what do i get if you lose?”

he smirks. “what do you want?”

you crawl toward him just a little, voice dropping lower, teasing. “something rough.”

his eyes flicker, jaw tightening slightly. “then i hope i get it wrong again,” he murmurs, but then he pauses. tilts his head. grins. “oh, wait.. i just remembered. i don’t have to guess.”

you blink. “huh?”

he leans in close, his voice soft but wicked. “i don’t have to guess, baby. i saw it. it’s the lacy black pair with the little bows… the ones i picked out for you when i was in milan.” he murmurs, his voice deep, eyes darkening as he stares at you

your eyes widen slightly.

he nods, smug. “yeah. i saw them when you sat down on the couch before. the were peeking out juuust a little bit.” his hands suddenly wrap around your calves, dragging you closer until you’re between his legs, staring up at him. “you think i wouldn’t notice that pair? god, they’re all ive been thinking about.”

you try to keep up the innocent act, but he’s already tugging the shirt up over your hips, exposing the exact panties he described.

“thought i bought these for you,” he murmurs, running a finger just under the waistband, “but now i think i bought them for me.”

you open your mouth, maybe to tease him back, but the words don’t come. his lips crash against yours with no warning, all teeth and tongue and want. he presses you back onto the mattress, hands slipping under your thighs, pulling them apart without hesitation.

“you said you wanted something rough,” chris growls, kneeling between your legs, eyes fixed on the wet patch darkening the delicate lace. “then don’t you dare act shy now.”

your breath hitches.

he smirks again, lowering his mouth to your stomach. “these are coming off,” he mutters, teeth hooking in the waistband. “and you’re not leaving this bed until i say so.”

he pulls them down your legs with his teeth, carefully putting them on display right next to you.

he presses a kiss to your soaked clit, licking his lips in satisfaction. he pushes your shirt all the way up, exposing your chest to the cool air, and to him.

chris lets out a quiet, reverent breath as his palms slide slowly up your sides, rough thumbs brushing just beneath your breasts before he finally cups them, kneading gently, like he’s taking his time to commit every inch of you to memory.

"perfect," he mutters, dragging his tongue from the center of your waist, up to right between your tits. “mine.”

you gasp when he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking just hard enough to make your back arch off the bed. his free hand trails down your stomach, teasing just above where you want him most.

“look at you,” he breathes against your skin. “so worked up already, and i’ve barely touched you.”

you whimper, hips lifting instinctively as his fingers finally dip between your legs, brushing lightly over your soaked folds. he hums in approval, smirking at the way your breath stutters.

“you like those panties, huh?” he teases, sliding one finger inside you with agonizing slowness. “you gotta wear 'em more often, if this is the reaction i get.”

you manage a shaky laugh, but it turns into a moan when he adds another finger, curling them just right. he watches your face closely, his expression dark with focus and desire.

then he leans in again, voice low and rough at your ear. “still want it rough, baby??”

you whimper, looking up at him as your eyes flutter. “still want it.”

“good.”

and just like that, his fingers are gone. you barely have time to protest before he's flipping you over onto your stomach. he stands, pulling off his tshirt, tossing it aside. he pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, staring at you look back at him.

he lines himself up with you, dragging his tip through your sopping folds. he brings a hand to cup your chin, tapping your cheek. “spit.” he commands, and you allow saliva to drop from your lips, drooling down your chin and into his palm.

he strokes himself with your saliva, then lining himself up with you.

“you started this,” chris growls, one hand pressing into the small of your back, the other resting on your ass. “now i’m gonna finish it.”

he slams his hips into you, causing you to let out a deep moan. his thrusts are deep and relentless from the start, like he’s got something to prove. to you, to himself, to the way you looked at him with that teasing smirk earlier. your hands fist the sheets, your breath catching with every powerful snap of his hips.

“fuck” chris groans, voice wrecked and low as he watches himself disappear inside you over and over. “you feel so good. so tight. always so perfect for me.”

you can only whimper in response, overwhelmed, your body trembling beneath him. he leans over you, his chest brushing your back, hand wrapping around your throat from behind. not choking, just holding, anchoring, controlling. “you wanted it like this,” he grits out, lips right against your ear. “don’t you dare forget that.”

he shifts his angle, hips slamming up against the sweet spot inside you with brutal precision. your cry is instant, high and needy, legs spreading wider as your body arches into him involuntarily.

he chuckles darkly. “yeah, there. right fuckin' there. that’s the spot, huh?”

you nod frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, your fingers scrabbling for anything to hold onto. he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, his other still firm at your lower back, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“you look so pretty like this,” chris growls. “fucked out and ruined. mine.”

his pace doesn’t falter, and neither does his grip. the only sounds in the room are the slap of skin against skin, your moans, his grunts, rough, raw, and needy. you can feel your orgasm building fast, coiling hot and tight in your belly, threatening to snap with every deep thrust.

he notices. of course he does. he can feel it. see it in the way your body shakes, hear it in your whimpering gasps.

“you gonna cum for me, baby?” he pants, hips driving harder. “gonna let me feel you lose it all over my cock?”

“yes! please, i’m so close-” you sob, voice broken.

his grip on your wrists tightens. “then give it to me.”

and when you do, when your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, tearing a cry from your throat and making your vision blur, chris doesn’t let up. if anything, he fucks you harder through it, chasing his own release.

he brings his hand up from your lower back, slamming it down onto your right ass cheek, then rubbing over the spot with his palm. you sob, moaning.

“fuck- fuck, i’m gonna..” he groans, pulling out just in time to pump himself to the edge. he cums with a deep growl, hot and thick against your lower back, his hand stroking himself through the high. his breathing is ragged, uneven, as he finally slows down, bending over you to kiss the back of your shoulder gently.

“fuck,” he mutters, still catching his breath. he sits next to you on the bed, rubbing your upper back. “you okay?”

you nod weakly, lips curling into a satisfied smile. “perfect.”

he chuckles, brushing your hair away from your face and kissing the side of your temple. “you better be,” he murmurs, shifting you to lay on your back, positioning his face between your legs. “because we’re not done yet.”

he hooks your knees over his shoulders, spreading you open again with gentle but unrelenting hands. your thighs are still trembling, your body oversensitive, but he doesn’t hesitate. just flattens his tongue against your soaked folds and groans like he’s starving for it.

your back arches off the bed as he laps at your clit, slow and deliberate at first, savoring every shudder, every twitch of your hips.

“chris” you gasp, voice shaky, fingers threading into his hair.

“mm?” he hums against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure rolling through your core. “too much?”

you shake your head desperately, even as your legs try to close around his head. “n-no, just… fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

he pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, chin soaked with your arousal. “nah, baby. i’m gonna make you live for this.”

and then he dives back in, his tongue flicking and circling your clit in perfect rhythm, one hand snaking down to slide two fingers inside you again. fast, deep, practiced. he curls them just right, right where he knows you need it, and your hips buck hard against his face.

“that’s it,” he growls, voice muffled against your cunt. “give me another, pretty girl.”

you’re already unraveling, already close to the edge, and the moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, it tips you straight over. your orgasm hits like lightning, sharp and overwhelming, and you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head.

chris doesn’t stop.

not even when your legs shake violently, not even when your voice cracks. he keeps licking you through it, slowing only when your hand tugs sharply at his hair in overstimulation.

finally, he pulls back, kissing the inside of your thigh before crawling up your body and collapsing beside you, breathing just as hard as you are.

you’re absolutely wrecked, spread out on his sheets and barely coherent, but your fingers still find his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss. he kisses you slow this time, reverent, like he’s saying thank you with every brush of his lips.

“still think you won that game?” you whisper, smiling

he grins, wide and proud. “baby, i never lose.”

────────────୨ৎ────────────

aurora's notes: for my lilah girl <3 @delilahsturniolo

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

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luvjaeeee · 4 days ago

Text

— 𝜗ৎ brat tamer!matt loves being called daddy

matt bends you over his lap, your ass up in the air, putting you in the perfect position for what's to come. "you know what happens to bad girls, don't you baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with dark promise. you shiver, knowing all too well the delicious torment he has in store for you, matt flips your skirt up.

the first spank lands with a loud sound, pain but pleasure blossoming across your tender flesh. "say it," matt demands. "oh—oh my—i’ve been a bad girl, daddy," you whimper, feeling so small and vulnerable bent over his strong thighs. this only spurs him on. "that's right, you have. and ‘m going to make sure you don't forget it." his hand comes down again and again, each smack stinging more than the last.

your ass is soon burning, throbbing an angry red. tears streak your cheeks, but you don't want him to stop. you need this, crave the exquisite punishment only he can give you. matt pauses, rubbing your scorching skin soothingly. "are you going to be a good girl for me?" he asks. "y—yes daddy, i'll be good," you sniffle, meaning it with all your heart. "good." he sounds pleased. he pushes you off his lap, down onto the floor on your hands and knees. "you're going to be a good little slut for daddy, aren't you?"

the crude words make you flush with shame and arousal. "y—yes daddy!" you moan out. he positions himself behind you, the fhead of his cock nudging against your entrance. "beg me for it," he commands. "please daddy, i need you inside me, fuck me please!" you babble frantically. with a growl, he thrusts deep, impaling you on his considerable length. you cry out at the intensity of it, feeling split open and thoroughly mounted.

matt fucks you hard, his hips slamming against your spank-warmed cheeks. the room is filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your moans. "you like that sweetheart? like being punished?" he grunts. "y—yes, oh my gosh—" you whine, lost in subspace. he brings you to the brink again and again, only to deny you each time. you're mindless with need, tears of frustration streaming down your face. you'd beg but you can't find the words, can only sob and moan piteously.

finally, matt takes pity on you. "cum for me, babygirl," he coos and with a few rubs of your clit you're hurtling into oblivion, screaming his name. with a roar, he spills inside you, his seed painting your insides white. afterwards, he gathers you in his arms, stroking your hair and crooning endearments while you shudder and cry. "my sweet, perfect girl," he breathes worshipfully. "all mine."

💌: i cringed so hard writing this im sorry 😭 anyway happy fathers day!!!!

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luvjaeeee · 6 days ago

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In love with stepbrother Matt! Also a big fan of him being mean lol. I’m imagining them on a family road trip. Three row van. Them all the way in the back. Music up loud. Matt initiating since it’s been a week since they’ve messed around. Reader being scared since their parents are up front. He keeps his hand around over her mouth to keep her quiet. Him threatening to get them caught if she doesn’t stop holding back her orgasm. Also results in her squirting for the first time as he cream pies her.

⌗ . . . ON THE ROAD

WARNINGS : PUBLIC (in the car with other people in it). SMUT. THREATENING TO GET CAUGHT. FINGERING. HAND JOB.

i changed this just a little bit cause i already had an idea in mind for something like this, and i feel like them fucking with everyone in there might be more obvious and such.

the backseat was too cramped. you had a few things to your left side—things that didn’t fit anywhere else in the car which made you get pushed closer to matt.

your leg was touching his, the blanket you had brought was draped over both of your laps. initially you wanted the blanket because of the ac and how chilly it was getting in the car—but—matt decided he wanted to share.

which you were okay with—but the thought of being this close with your whole family in the car made your brain short circuit. no one had figured out you and matt were sleeping with one another, and that was a good thing.

that didn’t mean your nerves weren’t racing anytime you were too close to him, afraid your mom or his dad would take one good look at you both and know what was going on.

you could feel how warm his body was against yours, the place where your leg was touching his felt like it was on fire. and honestly—you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about what happened your last family trip. when he touched you and let his hands wander everywhere.

you tried to ignore the growing heat curling inside your stomach—right now wasn’t the time for that. i mean you couldn’t—right?—not with everyone in here. so you looked out the window, listening to the hum of the tires on the highway being drowned out by smaller sounds. the music up front keeping your mom and step dad distracted.

you took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the feeling. but you felt matt shifted just slightly next to you—and it was like your whole focus shattered. his thigh was pressed harder into yours under the blanket. you turned your head to look at him, finding his gaze looking forward and not at you. but then… your eyes caught the way his hand landed on your knee.

and you froze.

he didn’t even look at you. he just kept his gaze looking forward, watching whatever thing passed by next. he was acting as if he wasn’t doing anything wrong—like his fingers weren’t slowly starting to slide up your leg, moving to the inside of your thigh.

your whole body reacted quickly—the heat blooming in your stomach like a match to gasoline. you flicked your eyes up front quickly, afraid someone’s eyes might catch what was going on, even if it was so subtle. but your mom was bobbing her head to the music and your step dad was focused on the road. chris was in the middle row with his headphones in, scrolling on his phone, not paying attention to anyone.

still, even after making sure no one was watching—your heart raced like you were about to get caught red-handed. “matt.” you hissed as his hand went higher, and you turned your head just slightly toward him.

his lips were curled into a dirty grin. he knew what you were feeling—could feel how tense you were under his hand. but he didn’t turn his head until a moment later, cocking a brow at you. “you gonna stop me?” he mocked, knowing damn well you couldn’t and didn’t want to already.

matt watched as your gaze flicked away for a moment and he hummed, giving you a silent answer of ‘that’s what i thought’ before his hand made its way hight to the waistband of your shorts. his fingers slipped under the band of your shorts—under the blanket, hidden from view. gently his fingers inched closer and closer until he pressed them right over your soaked panties.

the lacy material wet and clinging to your folds. matt hissed at the feelings, pressing his fingers down a little. “so wet sweetheart.” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

“I—I,” you stammered, the words dying on your tongue your hips shifted into his hand, grinding down on it. you were embarrassed at how easily he could make you wet, even when he wasn’t touching you. he loved how easily you caved for him, it was like you couldn’t resist having his hands all over you.

he quickly slipped two fingers under the damp fabric, finding your clit with practiced ease. your hands clenched the edge of the blanket, teeth biting your bottom lip so hard you swore you’d break skin. you couldn’t help but let your gaze dart up again. chris was still on his phone.

and when your gaze shifted to your mom—she turned around slightly to ask something, and you immediately sat straighter, heart pounding against your chest. but she didn’t seem to notice anything—just smiled and asked chris to pass you a water bottle before turning back.

matt’s fingers hadn’t stopped when chris grabbed a bottle from the cold bag you guys had brought with for snacks and drinks. in fact, he moved down to push two fingers deeper into you as soon as chris looked at you.

your lips had parted slightly, a small noise almost escaping your lips but you held it together. you let a shaky hand come up, grabbing the bottle from chris and giving him and smile the best you could before he turned back around.

his fingers moved slow, curling up with that perfect drag that made your legs jerk. you whimpered quietly, the noise barely audible unless you were listening for it. which matt was—he knew you had a hard time staying quiet sometimes.

“shhh.” he cooed, leaning his body towards yours just a little more than it already was. “you want them to hear you back here, sweetheart?” you shook your head, but your eyes fluttered shut. it was pathetic that you were so close already, your body rocking against his hand in tiny, desperate movements. you could feel the orgasm building.

matt noticed, watching how you humped his hand now, rubbing your clit against the palm of his hand as his fingers fucked you deep. but he wasn’t gonna let you cum yet—so he stilled his fingers, removing them from you.

you gasped, eye snapping open and blinking wide at him in disbelief. he leaned in, a smile on his face—not the nice kind, no—he was being mean and he knew it. “not yet. want you to help me now, baby. want us to finish together. can y’do that baby?”

and your heart punched your ribcage. just the thought of having your hand wrapped around him while his fingers were buried inside you made you flush—your hips grinding down against the seat a little. and so you nodded, panting softly as you waited.

gently his hand moved to your own, guiding it over to his lap beneath the blanket. you hadn’t even realized how hard he’d gotten—his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. your eyes flicked up front again. everyone still looked distracted. the music was loud enough. and you took that as a good enough sign that you guys were okay.

when your attention turned back to matt, your hand fumbled for just a second with the button on his jeans, then unzipped him, freeing his cock into your hand. he was already leaking onto your hand and the first swipe of your thumb across his tip, the action making him hiss quietly.

“stroke me.” he whispered, before moving his hand back into your shorts, into your panties before curling two of his fingers back into your cunt. you whined softly, sucking in a breath. “match me, okay? we cum together, or I make you wait till we get to the motel.”

your breath hitched at that—the motel was still two hours away—surely he wouldn’t do that? but it was matt. you knew how mean he could be. you wouldn’t put it past him to not stick to his word.

so you started to move your hand in time with the rhythm of his fingers—slow but tight, your thumb teasing the sensitive head of him with every stroke. it was the hottest thing, watching the way his teeth dug into his bottom lip when you squeezed your hand just tight enough around him and when you gave the head of his cock more attention.

by now you were both panting—barely audible but frantic. your eyes flicking up to everyone every once in a while to make sure no one would catch what you guys were doing. but every time you did—your walls clamped down around his fingers more. you did like the idea of getting caught, just the thought of it was making the band in your stomach tighter with each passing minute.

“i can feel you clenching.” he murmured. “you gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl while you jerk me off? hm?” and You nodded fast, your lips parting in silent gasps. still—you looked forward once again. chris had changed songs. your mom and step dad were arguing over directions.

it was still safe—barely.

your attention was drawn back to matt when you felt the way he throbbed in your hold. feeling the way his body began to tense under your hand. “don’t stop.” matt gritted, his lips parting as he looked down at his lap where your hand was moving under the blanket—he wished he could lift it up and watch. “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

so you sped up, moving your hand faster over his cock as his fingers sped up inside you, hitting your spot over and over again until your thighs began to shake. the band in your stomach became incredibly tight, your free hand coming up to your mouth as you bit your knuckles to stay silent as you came around his fingers. your eyes rolling back. but that didn’t slow your hand.

matt hissed, his hips twitching up to fuck your fist as he cursed under his breath. quiet “fuckfuckfuck” slipping past his lips before his cock twitched in your hand and hot spurts of cum spilled over your fingers as he came.

you both sat there for a moment, flushed and gasping, the air around you thick with heat and adrenaline. your eyes were growing heavy, flicking between matt and everyone else—making sure no one was looking still.

it was a moment before matt leaned in, mouth barely grazing your temple in a light kiss. he couldn’t not give you a kiss—you did so well for him. gently he took the blanket and used it to wipe up whatever mess that was made and you. you’ll just have to wash it later, but you didn’t mind.

and then—just like that—he zipped himself back up. moving the blanket to an area that wasn’t between you two and opened his arms up.

surely they wouldn’t mind if you cuddled him—he is your step brother after all…they’d see it as getting along.

a/n : need him now.

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