matthewsbrowserhistory - Tumblr blog

matthewsbrowserhistory · 24 days ago

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— ᥫ᭡ say so . . . chris and matt sturniolo

where . . . Chris and Matt both spot you at an influencer party they'd gone to, and now they need to see who can bag you for the night. But what happens when, to their surprise, you want them both?

contains . . . smut, build-up to the smut, threesome (absolutely ZERO incest), Eiffel Tower position, oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, dirty talk, degrading and praising, heavy chratt bickering

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #5

It was one of those nights in L.A. — every room lit by ring lights and camera flashes, every corner filled with people who lived for the scroll, swipe, and algorithm.

The lights at the party were dim and dreamlike, flickering between pink and gold. The pool out back shimmered beneath strings of fairy lights, dotted with floating roses that looked like someone’s aesthetic choice purely for Instagram. Voices blended into an intoxicating hum of flirtation, clout-chasing, and alcohol-fueled egos.

Having already downed a few drinks and chatted up multiple people, Matt and Chris had been scanning the party for some real fun to get their hands on.

That was when they spotted you.

You were standing by the glass railing, drink in hand, watching the crowd like a cat in a room full of mice. You looked like you didn’t belong — but in the best way. Like the party was orbiting you, not the other way around. Eyes that held secrets. A smile that could break careers. Legs for days.

Matt nudged Chris with his elbow, low and sharp. “There. The one by the railing.”

Chris followed his gaze, and his eyes instantly lit with that telltale look — like a kid eyeing a locked candy store. “Yeah,” he said slowly, almost reverently. “She’s… wow.”

“I’m going over.”

“You? I don’t think so. You’ll scare her off with your fake-deep ‘I do yoga and listen to The Weeknd on vinyl’ bullshit.”

“At least I don’t wear the same cologne as every crypto bro in this zip code.” Matt adjusted his shirt, the top three buttons undone, chest lightly glistening under the party lights. “Let’s see who she actually wants.”

Chris scoffed, fixing his hat on his head before smirking and following his brother, the both of them approaching like wolves in heat wearing designer sneakers.

Chris got to you first, his hand landing gently on the railing beside yours as he leaned in close, just enough for you to catch his cologne — clean, spicy, intentional. “So tell me something,” he said with a smooth, tilted grin, “are you always the most interesting person in the room, or is tonight special?”

You turned your head slowly, meeting his eyes with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that your opener?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

Before you could answer, Matt appeared on your other side like a scene change. He handed you a drink—something pale pink and artfully garnished. “She already has a drink,” Chris muttered even as you took the glass from him.

“This one actually tastes good,” Matt said with a wink. “Trust me.”

You took a sip out of sheer curiosity. He wasn’t wrong.

You raised an eyebrow as you took the drink away from your lips, looking between the both of them, curious as to what exactly had pulled them both over to you. “And you two are…?”

“Brothers,” they said at the same time. Then immediately glared at each other.

“Twins?” you asked.

“Triplets,” Chris corrected.

“Our brother, Nick, bailed on us to hang out with a girl in an outfit made entirely of glitter,” Matt added.

Ah, Tara, you thought, snickering and shaking your head as you took another drink, not noticing how they both looked over you and gave challenging glares once more.

Chris tried the classic charm offensive — eye contact that lingered too long, compliments that felt tailored just for you. “You’ve got this vibe,” he said, watching you closely, “like you know you’re hot, but you’re not annoying about it. It's refreshing.”

Matt countered by leaning into humor and empathy. “Ignore him. He probably says that to any girl who orders oat milk at Starbucks.”

Chris rolled his eyes before scoffing. “You fuckin' order oat milk at Starbucks, dumbass.”

You laughed, warm and unfiltered. They both visibly lit up like they’d won something. And now the game was far from over.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

They pulled out every trick in the book throughout the night.

Chris took you to the dance floor, guiding you with one hand on the small of your back, showing off the rhythm he usually showed off in tiktok videos. “I could do this all night,” he murmured in your ear as the beat dropped. You felt his confidence like static against your skin, making your laugh and just feel yourself as you swayed your body to the music with him.

Matt waited for his moment and found it when you took a break, lounging on a cushioned daybed near the pool. He sat beside you, just close enough to graze your leg. “You know,” he said, voice lower now, more serious, “most of the people here only care about how many followers you have. But I was watching the way you look at people. You see through them. That’s rare.”

Chris walked out to join the two of you, more drinks in his hands as he gave you a toothy grin, adding onto what Matt had said. "Yeah, it's like you're out of this damn world,"

You tilted your head at them both, scoffing softly. “You guys rehearsed these lines or something?”

“Absolutely not,” they both said at the same time.

Which made you laugh again. Damn them. They were too good at this.

As you all drank the shots of expensive tequila Chris had got, he told a story about them that had you nearly spitting out your drink laughing, Matt unable to not snicker along with it as well, the environment warm and thick.

By now, the tension between them towards you was crackling like the edge of a storm.

“So,” Matt said, tapping his glass, glancing over it at you as if he wasn't losing his mind hoping that you'd pick him, “who’s winning?”

You looked at both of them, smile teasing.

Chris leaned in, smug. “Come on, we both know you’ve already picked.”

You bit your lip, leaned back into the cushions, stretched your legs like a queen waiting for her court to bow. “Actually…”

Their eyes locked on you, anticipation tight in their jaws.

“…I was thinking maybe I don’t have to choose.”

Silence. Then a synchronized blink.

Chris was the first to speak. “You’re joking.”

Matt tilted his head. “Wait. Are you serious?”

You just smiled, sultry and slow. “Why pick one when I can have both?”

Their smugness melted into something else—surprise, intrigue, hunger.

“Damn...” Chris said finally, breaking into a crooked grin. “I like you.”

Matt laughed, a little breathless. “Dangerous.”

You smirked at their reactions before you stood, glancing over your shoulder to look down at both of them, raising an eyebrow. “Are you coming, or do I need to find someone else to entertain me?”

They scrambled up like excited puppies, speechless, for once outmatched.

And you? You walked ahead, knowing they’d follow.

Because they were players. But tonight? You were the game.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The bass thudded through the marble floors of the house like a heartbeat too fast from too much tequila and attention, thankfully making noise to cover up the obscene sounds coming from the bathroom you, Chris, and Matt snuck in to finally have some fun.

"Fuuuuck—" Chris groaned out as his grip tightened around the makeshift ponytail he'd made for your hair in his hand, looking down and watching the way you took his cock in your mouth like it was meant to be there.

Your nails dug into his thighs as you gripped them to hold yourself steady, your eyes glossy and fluttering a bit as you looked up at him, being met with that smirking grin on his lips.

"Look like such a pretty fuckin' slut for us, huh Matt?" Chris cooed to you, reminding your of the deliciously thick cock that was Matt's, sliding in and out of your sopping wet pussy from behind.

"Shit— Yeah she does.." He breathily responded, but his eyes stayed trained on how his cock disappeared into your cunt before he'd pull back and repeat, your warm, gooey walls making him bite his bottom lip hard, especially as you clenched around him each time Chris got a little rough with your mouth.

You moaned around Chris's cock as you felt Matt's hands on you, one gripping your hip tightly and the other sliding up your arched back underneath your scrunched up dress around your waist, your tits freed from your earlier make out sesh with Chris as Matt had been busy getting off your panties.

"Goddamn baby, you're just loving this, aren't you?" Chris groaned, his free hand holding his shirt up to his torso so that he had a clearer view of you. He chuckled at your slurred "mhmm" around his cock, your responses muffled by your full mouth.

Chris couldn't help as he gripped your hair harder, thrusting his cock a bit more into your mouth, making small gags and noises spill from you as you let him fuck your mouth, his groans mixing into the noises that filled this dimly lit bathroom.

"Fuckin' hell— y' gonna make me cum, baby—" Chris panted, earning a chuckle from Matt for not holding out as long as he was, but Chris ignored him as you gripped his thighs harder, his other hand nearly tearing his shirt with how hard he was holding it. His breathing became shaky, his legs trembling a bit as his hips sputtered against your mouth.

"I'm gonna— Gonna cum— Holy fuuuuck—" Chris gasped out, groaning loudly as you felt his cock twitch against your tongue before pumping his thick, warm cum down your throat, making tears fall down your already mascara stained cheeks, but you held out, especially with his hand keeping your head in place.

"Told you I'd last longer," Matt snickered, though groaning at the way your pussy clenched around his cock due to you swallowing Chris's sperm, missing the way Chris flipped him off.

"You try fuckin' her mouth next time, then we'll see if you're tough shit," Chris snipped back, looking down at you as he pulled his cock from your mouth, smirking at how your tongue licked up the rest of his residing cum on your lips, before helping you stand up just a bit.

"Fuck— Next time? You hear that, ma?" Matt breathily asked, watching the way you put your hands on Chris's chest to keep you upright before turning your head to look back at him, your pink, glossy lips parted as you face already looked fucked out, making him groan. "You wanna see us again?"

You nodded before moaning as Matt started thrusting harder, deeper into your cunt, suddenly feeling as Chris grasped your jaw and turned your face back to him, his lips brushing against yours.

"Good, cause I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," He purred low, earning a slurred giggle from you before your lips met in a messy, passionate kiss, your nails digging into his shirt as Matt hit that perfect spot within you, your moan swallowed into the kiss.

"Jesus, ma— This pussy's fuckin' amazing— Gonna get me addicted to this shit—" Matt groaned, his body leaning forward to press his chest against your back, in turn, making your chest press against Chris's as you continued to make out.

Your eyes rolled back as Chris's tongue slipped into your mouth, tangling with your tongue as you felt like you were getting drunk off of Matt's dick. God, this was fucking heaven.

One of your shaky hands reached back to meet Matt's that still held your hip, gripping it in an attempt to tell him you were close.

"Y' gonna cum, mama? Yeah? This dick that fuckin' good?" Matt cooed, chuckling as Chris pulled from the kiss to glare at him before delving back in to kiss you harder, your moans and whines spilling into his mouth and in between breaths, his hands palming at your tits.

As that burning ecstasy built in your abdomen, you felt as Matt kissed at your shoulder and neck, biting and kissing over the hickies both of them had made during the make out sesh earlier. The sensation of everything felt like too much, Chris's hands kneading your tits, Matt's dick pounding your sweet cunt, both of their mouths on you.

"'M gonna cum ma— Cum with me— Fuck, please cum with me—"

It hardly took much of Matt's begging to make that pleasure snap within you, your back arching hard, your legs shaking, your hands gripping Chris's shirt like a life line, your lips parting from his to let out a loud, gorgeous moan, especially as you felt Matt's hips stutter before pumping your pussy full of his cum, thick spurts painting you gummy walls.

After a few more moments of Matt riding out your highs, he stilled, all three of you panting in near unison, spent and blissed out. Matt chuckled breathlessly at your face, loving the way you looked completely fucked out now.

"Was that good for you, ma?" He asked, earning a nod and a slurred "mhmm" from you before he leaned in to kiss you, soft and deep, before parting, feeling as Chris pressed his lips to your ear, whispering sultrily into it.

"So, who was better?"

You huffed as you rolled your eyes, your voice a bit strained and tired as you answered back. "Both of you were fucking good.."

"Yeah, but I was better, right?" Chris asked like a puppy looking for validation to boost his ego.

"C'mon dude, she was moaning all over my dick," Matt protested.

"Yeah? Well, she was cryin' all over mine."

"That was cause of me."

"Like hell it was! Did you see the way she was drooling on my dick??"

You huffed as they bickered, too tired to tell them to knock it off, just resting your head on Chris's chest and closing your eyes.

Oh you were definitely going to do this again.

☆ : this one's also not proofread, so i'm really sorry if it's bad, i'm so tired chat 😭 I fuckin started my bloodbath this morning and i'm in pain- BUT IM PULLING THROUGH THE BEST I CAN FOR YALL- hope y'all enjoy, mwah <33

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 24 days ago

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the best | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader x fem!bestfriend

summary: you and your best friend surprise chris with the ride of his life

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT; srsly this is pure filth; threesome; established friendships; unprotected p in v; oral (f and m receiving); switch!chris; fingering; face riding; cream pie; squirting; dirty talk; scissoring; 18+

notes: happy pride divas ;)

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

You’re perched on the edge of Chris’s bed, ankles neatly crossed, nerves crackling just beneath your skin like static. Beside you, Gracie shifts slightly — her knee brushing yours again and again, a steady rhythm you’re both pretending not to notice. There’s a shine to her lip gloss that catches the light deliberately, her eyeliner smoked out enough to make her eyes rich with seduction. Nothing about her looks casual, and neither do you. Your appearance is too curated, too purposefully sexy. You look like someone who knows what she wants.

The room smells like him — like cedar soap and boyish laundry and a hint of Dior Sauvge that you tease him for using — and that alone is enough to make your stomach flutter. You glance at the time again. Any minute now, he would be getting home from his meeting. He has no idea you’re here, and that’s the best part.

Gracie nudges you with her shoulder, seeming to be feeling the same anticipation as you, “You think he’s gonna freak?”

You grin, “Absolutely.”

The two of you dissolve into quiet giggles, muffled by the hush of shared anticipation. You’ve done a lot of crazy shit with Gracie over the last year of your friendship, but never this. This feels different. Charged. The kind of thing you could never take back, even if you tried. You, Gracie and Chris met exactly a year ago tonight — at a party with warm beer, fairy lights strung through a stranger’s backyard, and a shitty playlist you’ll never forget. Gracie had been shy and nervous and overly-drunk by nine o’clock. Chris had been obnoxious and charming and a little too good at flip cup.

And somehow, ever since that night, he’s belonged to both of you. A year of late-night drives and hungover brunches and watching shitty movies sprawled across his sectional. A year of teasing jokes and inside looks and arguments over superficial things. And now, tonight, this.

Above you, the sound of the front door opening. Muffled laughter — voices overlapping. You hear Chris long before you see him, threatening Nick and Matt if they eat all of his leftovers. One of his brothers says something back. You can’t make it out — just the cadence of familiarity, the rhythm of voices you had heard nearly every day for the past year. And then, footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, unmistakably his.

You and Gracie exchanged a glance. Both of you straighten at once, slipping into place like pieces of a prank too well-planned. Sitting side by side at the edge of his bed, facing the door. Silent. Smiling. The doorknob turned. There was a click. The door swings open, and Chris stops cold in the doorway.

His eyebrows shoot up. He’s still wearing his jacket, backpack slung halfway off one shoulder. His eyes scan you, then Gracie, then back to you. “What the fuck,” He says, grinning but visibly freaked, “What are you two doing?”

Gracie tilts her head, slow and sly but wasting little time, “Check your washroom.”

He looks between the two of you, immediately growing suspicious, “What?”

“Just do it,” You say, trying to keep the tremor of excitement from your voice.

Still confused — albeit more curious now than nervous — he disappears into the en suite. The light switched on, then there was a pause. After a pause, his voice comes from inside, “What the fuck…” Low. Distant. You can picture it exactly — the way he stands there, reading the post-it note you stuck to the mirror first in confusion, and then in understanding.

Remember that joke you made last weekend? We do.

It was a joke he had made, six beers in, about how he figured the three of you would have hooked up by now. You remember how his voice dipped when he said it, half-laughing, half-not. How Gracie had raised an eyebrow, subtly intrigued. How your heart stuttered in your chest and you played it off with a sip of your drink. It had been a joke. But you remembered. Gracie remembered. And by the tone of his voice, clearly so did he.

He steps out of the washroom slowly, like he’s not sure what world he just walked into. His jaw is slack — and now, now he sees you both again. Except you’re not sitting up at the foot of his bed anymore. You’ve reclined against the pillows, limbs tangled lazily with Gracie’s. Your shirt is gone, tossed to the floor like an afterthought. Gracie’s is too. The glow from his lamp hits the swell of her barely covered tits just right. Your skin buzzes at the sight, at the feeling of his eyes on you both.

And for a moment, he just stares. Like he’s forgotten how to speak. You watch as the understanding moves through him like a storm cloud, shifting the air in the room. He swallows. “Are you guys serious?” Gracie shrugs, casual. “You started it.” He opens his mouth, then closes it as he steps closer. “I — okay. What is this?”

You look at him. At the pink creeping up his neck. At the way he’s suddenly cautious, like he might be dreaming this and afraid to say the wrong thing. “It’s our Friendiversary,” You reply simply, eyes not leaving his. From beside you, Gracie hums in agreement, the sound smooth like butter to your ears, “A year,” She echoes, her voice low, “Since we met at that party.”

He looks at you both like you’ve rearranged the laws of his universe. He’s not touching you yet, not even moving closer. But you can see it all happening in his head — the calculation, the confusion, the temptation. “Is this…for real?” He asks, voice dry like gravel.

“Only if you want it to be,” You murmur, bringing a finger to Gracie’s stomach and drawing slow circles against her smooth skin. She sucks in a sharp breath, exhaling slowly in a way that makes your own stomach flip. Silence stretches; heavy, breathless. Then Chris finally drops his backpack to the floor.

He steps forward. Toward you. Toward Gracie. His voice comes softer now, a little stunned. “You two are fucking insane.” You giggle, heart thumping, “Took you this long to figure that out?”

He laughs once — a sharp, disbelieving sound — and climbs slowly onto the bed; the mattress sinking beneath his weight. He moves like someone caught between instinct and nerve, and when his knees hit the bed, he lingers there for a moment — hands planted on either side of your legs, eyes scanning your face, then Gracie’s, as if trying to memorize something. You can tell he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know where to touch.

“Tell me if this is a joke,” He murmurs with a nervous laugh, “I need to know no one’s gonna jump out of my closet with a camera.” You laugh in response, grabbing his forearm and gently tugging him forward, “No joke,” You kept your voice steady, though your throat feels tight from the effort, “No cameras.” Chris glances towards Gracie as though for reassurance, who raises her brows at him and gently tugs at the hem of his jacket. “You gonna take this off and join us or keep hovering like a perv?”

The corner of his mouth lifts, crooked and still slightly uncertain. “Still not convinced I didn’t die in the car on the way home.” You chuckle, “You didn’t,” You whisper, and lift a hand to his chest. His breath hitches the moment your fingers make contact with the fabric of his t-shirt, just above where his heartbeat is. Fast, heavy. Matching yours. “I can feel you. Right here.”

He swallows again, Adam’s apple bobbing, and shifts his weight to pull of his jacket. It slides from his arms and puddles next to the bed like it doesn’t matter anymore. Gracie reaches up next, brushing her fingertips just barely against the waistband of his jeans. Not tugging — not yet — just feeling him, drawing him in. He settles onto the bed, on his knees, before you both.

Silence fills the room, the three of you watching one another, deciding what the first move should be, and who should make it. But there was a slow-burning desire within you, one so powerful you could barely wait another second, one that only grew stronger when your eyes fell onto Gracie beside you; her eyes already filled with that hazy film of arousal. The strap of her bra slides down her shoulder, and you dropped your mouth to the soft, buttery skin there.

Gracie gasps softly as you begin to kiss her shoulder, hand tangling in your hair to pull your lips up to her own. Her mouth moves against yours with a growing sense of urgency. She tastes like candy and something richer, something human, and her hand in your hair tugs tighter, pulling you closer to her as you undid her bra.

You feel Chris watching you both with rapt attention, certain his eyes had grown dark with desire as your hands slide along Gracie’s body. He shifts on the bed, and gently places a hand on your hip. His touch is immediately electrifying, each brush of his fingers sending shivers through your body. Gracie’s hand finds your tits, popping them free from your thin bra; running her thumb against your pebbled nipple.

Hands are everywhere, traveling haphazardly across your skin. Chris’s touch grows more sure, almost urgent, as it moves from your hip up your spine, stopping only once he reaches the back of your neck. His fingers dig hungrily into your skin there before using the grasp to pull your mouth from Gracie’s and onto his own.

Not a hurried kiss. Not frenzied or fuelled by the rush of surprise. It was slow, intentional. His tongue slips between your lips, the strong muscle torturing you with greedy flicks. His hand curls behind your neck, pulling you in deeper, and your hand fists in the fabric of his shirt. You moan softly into his mouth, body aching for more.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only because Gracie’s hand is now on his cheek, coaxing him toward her. You watch — spellbound — as he turns, eyes heavy-lidded, and kisses her too. Slow. Messy. Your stomach flips. Watching their swollen lips mesh together is like watching light refract. Something unnameable rises in your chest. You lie back against the pillows, breath caught in your throat, and trail your hand to your own breast, squeezing, grounding yourself. Your thighs press together instinctively, trying to relieve the throb of heat building between them.

Chris breaks from Gracie, blown out pupils glancing at you — checking in. You nod, silently telling him to keep going. Please. His hand finds yours and he guides it across Gracies stomach, over the curve of her hip, between her thighs where her grey shorts were already soaked through with arousal. Gracie gasps, the sound caught between surprise and need. Her pink nipple brushes your lips, and you kiss it reverently before pressing slow circles through the fabric of her shorts.

Chris’s mouth finds Gracie’s again, swallows her pretty gasp at the contact. Your eyes travel between dancing tongues, your trembling fingers, and Chris’s bulge in his pants. You then feel his hand move again, this time slipping up your skirt and between your own thighs. His thumb finds your clit through the thin lace of your underwear. You cry out, and the world narrows.

His touch is gentle, firm, precise. His breath against Gracie’s lips grows ragged, in sync with your own. Your thighs instinctively tighten around his hand, though his thumb stays steady — circling slow and sure through the damp fabric of your thong. You feel your hips start to move on their own, small, eager pulses toward his touch.

Your fingers play with Gracie in sync with Chris’s rhythm now, and she moans into his mouth — a sound so soft and aching that it ripples straight through you. Hungry for more, your fingers push beneath the waistband of her shorts, the fabric stretching just enough to grant you access. She’s warm, soaked — slick against your fingers — and when you brush your index finger along the seam of her, her whole body shutters.

Chris pulls back from her just enough to watch. His mouth glistens, his chest heaves. His right hand stays at your core, thumb still circling tauntingly, but he uses his free hand to pull Gracie’s shorts to the side so that he can see the way your fingers slip through her weeping folds, see how Gracie reacts to you — how her breath catches, how her core pulses around nothing.

“Fuck,” He groans, almost like a prayer.

You glance at him — cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, jaw tight with restraint. Something about how undone he looks without yet being touched makes heat roll low in your stomach. He wants this, both of you, and yet he still holds back. Watching for cues, for confirmation. You reach for his face and gently guide him toward Gracie’s chest, where your mouth had just been.

“Here,” You whisper, and he obeys with closed eyes and without a word.

His lips close around her nipple, tongue meeting skin first, and Gracie gasps — head falling back, hand fisting in the sheets. Your hand is still between her legs, fingers curling and teasing her with careful pressure. You feel her growing wetter with each passing second, hear the filthy squelching as you slip two fingers into her — biting your lower lips as she rocks her hips into your hand like she can’t help it.

Chris groans against her skin. The sound vibrates through her; through you. Your eyes flutter shut, hips rolling in wild rhythm with his touch. You’re both giving and receiving at once — dizzy with sensation; every cell inside of you alive. Then Gracie shifts, one hand gripping your thigh, the other reaching for Chris. Her touch is impatient, seeking. Wordlessly, she tugs at the waistband of his jeans. He removes his mouth from her tit with a satisfying pop and straightens up instinctively, breathless, and she works the button free, then the zipper — then her small hand is inside.

The sound Chris makes isn’t loud — it’s raw. His head drops down to Gracie’s shoulder, his whole body tensing as she strokes him through his boxers. He bites down gently at the curve of her neck, and she moans; eyes flying to yours. “He’s so big, Y/n,” She murmurs, her voice a breath against his skin. You whine at her words, still working her with your fingers, curling them inside of her slowly. Her muscles flutter around you and her eyes slip closed.

Chris lifts his head, blinking like he’s surfacing from underwater. His hand slides beneath the waistband of your underwear without hesitation now, expert fingers parting your folds, exploring briefly before finding the sensitive bundle of nerves he had only been teasing. His touch deepens, becomes more deliberate, and your entire body arches off the bed — a choked sound escaping your throat.

Gracie leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Let him make you cum baby,” She murmurs, her voice electric and pitched in desire, “Want to see you fall apart.” And you almost do, right there, just from her words. Chris leans into you, his mouth finding your neck, pressing kisses down your throat, across your collarbone, all while his fingers never stop. He murmurs something against your skin — maybe your name — but you’re too incoherent to register it.

Your free hand is still on Gracie’s thigh. You slide it higher, spread her legs further apart, keep your fingers moving inside of her in time with the slow thrust of your hips against Chris’s palm. You’re shaking. All three of you are trembling with it now — sensation, anticipation, something heavier that hums beneath it.

You feel Gracie begin to tense. Her thighs flex, pussy clenches around your fingers, her hand still stroking Chris beneath his boxers. Her breath is stuttering, her jaw slack. “Oh my God,” She gasps, and the way she says it — like she’s surrendering — pushes you closer too. Chris watches you both, eyes wide, jaw clenched, like he himself is trying not to cum just from the sight alone.

“Please,” You whisper, not even sure who you’re talking to. Chris kisses you, open-mouthed, desperate, all tongue and teeth and hunger. And with his other hand, reaches for Gracie again. He tugs her forward so that she’s half-draped across your chest, and he kisses her too while your fingers keep working her toward the edge.

The three of you are tangled now — limbs and mouths and heat — and there’s no telling where one body ends and another begins. And in that suspended moment, just before the elastic band in your stomach snaps, you open your eyes and see Gracie’s lips on Chris’s neck. Her eyes squeezed shut, her body twitching around your soaked fingers, and everything hits at once.

You reach your orgasm with a gasp, muffled against Chris’s flexing shoulder. Your body trembles as his fingers coax the spray of your juices from your core. His eyes drop between your legs, watching as you soak your thong and the sheets beneath you. Gracie follows seconds later — clutching you both, mouth open in a silent cry, her whole body tensing around your hand.

Chris is panting, hard and aching in his jeans. He removes his fingers from your core, slipping his middle finger into his mouth to get a taste of you before bringing his pointer finger to Gracie’s puffy lips. She looks up at him through fluttering lashes, opens her mouth and swirls her tongue around his digit — moaning delicately as she laps up your juices.

Eventually, Gracie manages to lift her head and gather herself. She looks back up at him, eyes glazed. “Okay,” She says hoarsely, “Now we wanna play with you.” You smile up at him, chest still heaving as you take in his lustful expression, “Lie back.”

Chris hesitates for half a breath — as if committing this version of you both to memory before surrendering to it — then finally obeys, settling back against the pillows in the middle of the bed. His chest rises and falls in rapid rhythm, hands momentarily suspended at his sides; unsure where things were about to go. You crawl forward first, slow and steady, palms dragging up the soft fabric of his shirt as you go. His eyes track your every move. He’s flushed to the neck, hair mussed from your fingers, lips still red from kissing you both.

“You’re so quiet now,” Gracie teases, slipping off her damp shorts and tucking herself next to him. Her hand ghosts over his abdomen, then lower — not claiming him just yet, but letting him feel her taunting proximity. “Still think you’re in a coma or somethin’?” He lets out a ragged laugh, shaky and low. “If I am, I never wanna wake up.”

You smile, your hand landing over his heart. It pounds hard against your palm and you lean in, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat where his pulse flutters like a live wire. “Don’t worry,” You whispered against his skin, tugging off your skirt and panties in one fluid motion “We’re gonna make you feel good.” Gracie’s fingers trail teasingly over the unbuttoned waistband of his jeans, just enough to make him twitch. “So, so good Chris,” She adds, voice smooth as silk.

Chris groans softly, eyes fluttering shut. His fists twist in the sheets, trying not to buck into the touch, trying to hold still under the attention of two pairs of hands. But you can feel him trembling — the way his restraint is fraying under the warmth of your breath, your mouths, your fingers. You and Gracie exchange a glance — wordless but charged. You both know he’s right there, right at the edge of something. And you both have a plan to bring him to that place slowly, together. Gracie bends down and kisses the centre of his chest. You dip lower, pressing kisses along his hips. Your fingers tug at his waistband while hers slide beneath his shirt, mapping out the warmth of his skin, the ridges of his stomach, before pulling it over his head.

When you finally free him from his jeans, he’s straining hard against the fabric of his boxers, the outline of him unmistakable. You pause, just for a second, to admire the shape — the way you can see his veins bulge through the thin material. You lean in, brushing your lips just barely against his pelvis, and he exhales sharply; hips jerking in spite of himself. Gracie follows you down, tongue running against the elastic of his boxers before easing them down slowly. He lets out a strangled sound, head falling back, one arm slung over his eyes as if even the light might be too much. But he lifts it again when he feels two pairs of swollen lips wrapping around either side of his base, wonderment and desire visible in the way he looks down at you.

He’s solid against your tongue, warm. You memorize the ridges of his length, hum when your tongue connects with Gracie’s on the other side of him. You have a brief moment of selfishness, a raw desire to take all of him in your mouth; keep all eight inches for yourself. But that wasn’t the plan. You and Gracie have something much better in mind for him. For all three of you. As if on cue, Gracie’s gaze meets yours and you recognize the glimmer of excitement within them. And as though you are two parts of the same woman, you lift yourself up and each place a leg on one another’s hip; straddling Chris’s lap and cocooning his swollen cock between both of your drooling folds.

His breath punches from his lungs — hard, like the air has been sucked straight out of him. His hands instinctively rise to grip both your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh; trying to ground himself in the heat, the slick, the impossible pleasure of being cradled between the two of you.

Your thighs tremble as your folds press against his length, sliding slowly against Gracie’s. The friction is unbearable in its softness — a velvet heat that leaves you dizzy. Gracie moans low in her throat, forehead glistening as you roll together, slowly, deliberately, letting his throbbing cock ride the space between you. His hand twitches on your waist. You can feel the tension radiating off him — every breath a struggle to hold on.

The room is practically quiet except for the wet, obscene sound of your bodies moving in tandem, and your mutual ragged breathing. Chris’s eyes are wide, reverent, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You’re both on either side of him, naked skin flushed and glistening, lips parted, pupils blown wide. He looks like he wants to speak — as though he needs to know if this is real — but the words die on his tongue the moment you shift your hips and grind against him just right.

“F-fuck,” He stammers, voice hoarse, almost broken. His eyes flutter shut, head tilting back into the pillows. “I’m gonna—” But he stops himself, groans instead, and tightens his grip against your skin like he’s barely hanging on. Gracie shifts slightly, presses a kiss to your shoulder; sweat-slick and trembling. “Not yet,” She whispers, breathless, and you echo her in a nearly-inaudible chorus, “Not yet.”

You both slow again, each roll of your hips now almost torturous. The ridge of his cock catches just beneath your clits with every pass, and your thighs clench, your breath hitching on every grind. You’re soaked — both of you — his entire length painted with your arousal, each slide through your slick warmth drawing a fresh moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

When your heavy-lidded eyes meet with Gracie’s again, something in you both shifts. Another unspoken cue. She reaches between you, fingers brushing against your reactive heat as she wraps her hand around his base, guiding him towards your opening with a certainty that makes your breath stutter. Your body aches — not just with lust, but with the weight of this moment, the sheer addiction found in being shared like this.

Chris opens his eyes just as he feels the warmth of your centre kissing his tip, blinking up at you like you have both eclipsed the entire sky. “Fuck, please,” He begs, voice gravelly with lust, “Need to f-feel you.” Gracie keeps her grip on his base firm, uses it to slide his satin-smooth tip against your dripping core. “That what you want, Y/n?” She asks, her voice as warm and seductive as honey. You answer by reaching for him. By tilting your hips. By guiding her hand — and his cock — to where you’re dripping and desperate.

He sinks into you slowly — one single, devastating inch at a time — and your body arches to meet him, mouth parting in a breathless gasp that never quite makes it into sound. He’s thick and impossibly warm, stretching you open in ways you never thought possible. You grip his wrist, the one still anchored at your waist, and press your forehead to Gracie’s. Her breath catches too, caught in the quiet storm building between your bodies. Her hand is still wrapped around his base, fingers brushing against you both, sticky with shared arousal. She moans in satisfaction, as though she can feel him through you, and leans in to kiss the hinge of your jaw, slow and adoring.

Chris lets out a low, wounded sound — a kind of awe-struck moan — as he finally bottoms out inside of you. His hand stills on your hip, trembling slightly, like he’s trying to memorize the way your body takes him in so greedily; like it’s where he was always meant to be. You can feel the throb of him, the pulsing ache of your own pleasure wrapped tightly around his length. The fullness is almost too much.

You roll your hips once, just to watch his eyes shudder closed, jaw clenching. “Jesus, Y/n,” He whispers, as if speaking your name too loudly might undo him. Gracie’s free hand strokes up your spine, soothing and grounding, “You’re taking him so well, baby. Look so pretty filled up like that.” Her filthy words brush the shell of your ear, and all you do is nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak. Instead, you lean forward to kiss her — soft, deep. Her mouth opens against yours, familiar yet endlessly new, and you begin to move — shallow at first, experimental — and the three of you groan in unison.

The rhythm builds naturally, without words, as though your bodies had rehearsed this in dreams. You ride him slowly, matching your bounces perfectly to the way Gracie’s hand strokes the base of his cock. Her free hand trails along your chest, your thighs, her tongue sliding across your bottom lip as your hips began to move more insistently.

Chris is gasping now, wrecked and intoxicating beneath you. “You feel — God — you feel insane,” He pants, brows pulled together, one hand drifting from Gracie’s thigh up to her centre. You watch the way she lets him touch her, her plump lip caught between her teeth, her pupils blown wide. Then her voice, sweet and dark and bordering on breathless, “Think you can let me taste, pretty girl?”

Your answer is immediate. “Yes.”

And then she’s shifting beside Chris, sliding closer, her breasts plush against his leg as she arches her back and brings her mouth between your legs — not to replace him, but to make you feel it all. The way you stretch around him. The way your swollen clit pulses with every slow thrust. She kisses your bundle of nerves before savagely flicking her tongue against it, and it’s almost too much. You body clenches around him, tight, needy, barely able to keep from spiralling all the way over.

Chris moans beneath you, his fingers once again finding Gracie’s core and sinking two fingers into it — pumping them in and out of her fervently, “I’m not gonna last — not if you — Jesus, Gracie, y-your tongue —” You can feel Gracie smile against your folds, gliding her tongue in long strokes to make both your and Chris’s heads spin. And your body burns with it — every muscle wound tight, every inch of skin alive with hands, mouths, heat. You’re drowning in sensation. All of you are. Yet none of you want to come up for air.

You’re shaking. You’re melting. You’re nothing but raw nerve endings. Gracie’s mouth is heaven and fire, her tongue both gentle and merciless, circling your clit in time with every bounce along Chris’s length. Your body bucks once, instinctive, hips jerking forward — but Chris catches you, free hand tight at your waist. His voice breaks beneath you, gritty and indulgent, “Fuck, Y/n.”

You clench again at the desperation in his tone, the way his hips stutter as he fights the brink of collapse. Gracie moans into you, the vibration of it sending a lightning bolt through your spine. Her fingers dig into your thighs, parting you further, deeper, her mouth insatiable. It’s addiction and ruin all at once. You cry out, the sound ripped from your chest raw and helpless.

“Cum for us,” Chris groans, voice thick and ragged, “Please, baby — wanna feel—God!” And that’s what breaks you. The pleasure crests, then crashes — a white-hot bloom of sensation that overtakes your whole body, radiating outward from where Gracie’s tongue and Chris’s cock are fucking you relentlessly. Your body trembles, weakened by the waves of pleasure. Your cunt still pulses around him when he grabs your hips, lifting you off of him with a pop and guiding you up to his face. Just before wrapping his mouth around your overstimulated clit, he practically groans out with urgency: “Get on me, Gracie.”

He wraps one arm around your waist, steadying you as he guides your dripping core onto his mouth. The instant heat of him — warm, wet, insistent — presses against your spent clit. His tongue begins a fierce, deliberate dance to finish pushing you through your orgasm. Each flick and swirl is relentless, sucking on your overstimulated nerves until your moans practically turns to screams and your body convulses.

Your fingers dig into the headboard behind Chris as he releases a breathy moan against your clit, his muscles tightening beneath you. Behind you, you feel Gracie settle onto his length. Feel her tits pressing against your back, her hips aligning with his in a hungry rhythm. The heat of her skin against his is driving him wild, grounding the lust in his body even as his mouth devours you.

You let your head drop back and watch her glimmering body writhe behind you. Her movements are steady, insistent — slow at first, then growing more urgent; riding him with a growing desperation that matches the fire burning through your veins. You can almost feel every inch of him as she meets him, almost feel the pressure building in her stomach like it’s your own.

The room is charged — thick with the sound of ragged breathing, the slick glide of skin on skin. The intimate, hungry chorus of moans. Your senses reel from the intensity, the exquisite ache of being so completely claimed and desired. Another orgasm threatens to overtake you, powerful and intimidating.

Chris’s arm tightens around your waist, pulling you down harder, deepening his mouth’s worship. His free fingers snake between Gracie’s thighs, rubbing in time with her hips; driving her closer to the edge. His voice breaks through the haze, rough and needy. “Give me another. Both of you.”

Your body arches instinctively, melting into his mouth as the pleasure of your third orgasm surges through you in a cascade of burning heat. Your legs shake on either side of his head, your core pulses and gushes against his chin, and you can’t hold back the guttural sounds escaping your throat — moans and gasps tangled with the overwhelming release flooding every fibre of your being.

Meanwhile, Gracie rides Chris with reckless abandon, her hips rolling and pressing with a steady insistence that mirrors the frantic devotion of his tongue. You hear her breath hitch, catch the whiny gasps she releases. Your senses reel from the intensity, the exquisite ache forming between your legs.

You turn your head just in time to watch Gracie begin to come apart. Her lips part with a stuttering gasp, a tremble rushing through her clenched thighs. Her eyes flutter shut, then snap open again — as if she didn’t want to miss a second. One hand slides to her own breast, fingers pinching her flushed nipple, and she chokes out profanities like a broken prayer. Chris groans against your core, snaps his hips up to meet hers, and her whole body jerks like a live wire. She throws her head back with a strangled cry, pleasure ripping through her like a wave.

Her hips stutter, rhythm faltering as Chris’s groans become more insistent. “Fuck—gonna cum.” He gasps, the words torn from him as he breaks contact with your spent body just long enough to cry out, chest nearly arching off the bed. His release hits him like a wave he has been fighting for too long. His whole body locks up beneath you both, abs clenching, jaw tight, and a guttural, involuntary moan burst from deep in his throat. You feel it beneath you — the way his chest shudders, the way his fingers tremble, the way he releases a string of gasps like he’s been holding his breath since the moment this started.

Gracie lets out another soft moan, eyes wide with awe as his cock pulses inside of her. You watch, gloriously, as she slowly lifts herself off of his length and lets his cum drip from her swollen folds in thick, hot ropes. You reach towards her, unable to resist, and run your finger against her slit before bringing it to your mouth for a taste. You hum at the sweetness of both their releases coating your tastebuds, satisfaction flooding your exhausted body.

Chris’s body collapses back onto the bed, arms falling limp at his sides, his expression dazed and open. He looks between the two of you, spent and glowing, and then lets out a shaky, breathless laugh. “You’re both gonna kill me,” He murmurs, eyes slipping closed for a moment as if to collect himself, “What a fucking way to go that would be.”

You chuckle, flopping down beside Chris, limbs loose and heavy, skin still tingling from the intensity. Gracie lets out a dramatic groan as she collapses in the opposite direction, flinging an arm across Chris’s legs like she’s just finished running a marathon. His breath is still uneven between both of you, chest rising and falling. “Be honest,” You begin, turning your head to grin up at him, “Was this the best Friendiversary gift ever?”

Chris glances between you two, like he still can’t believe you’re both really here, sprawled beside him, naked and glowing with shared satisfaction. Then he lets out another quiet laugh — softer this time, touched with something like gratitude. “Yeah,” He says, eyes drifting closed, “Yeah, this was the best Friendiversary gift ever.” There’s a pause. Then Gracie sighs dramatically. “Guess we’re gonna have to figure out a way to top it next year.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

ps: i tried writing in present tense instead of past tense to test if it reads better so pls let me know which u prefer!! love u guys <3

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 29 days ago

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˗ˏˋboyfriend!matt lovesss playing with his girl´ˎ˗

warnings; smut. dj w the vj. needy!reader.

p!link that gave me this idea at the end😋

it’s barely morning.

The kind of quiet, gray light that seeps in through the curtains and makes everything feel slower, softer. The world is still asleep, and so is Matt—mostly.

You’re curled up under the covers with him behind you, his arm around your waist, warm breath steady against the back of your neck. Everything is still. Peaceful. Except you.

You shift just a little, thighs rubbing together, trying not to wake him—but your body’s aching. You had a wet dream and it’s been hell since you woke up.

You try to ignore it. Breathe through it. But Matt stirs behind you.

His voice is low, rough with sleep. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You don’t answer right away. Embarrassed. Shy.

Matt presses a kiss to your shoulder, the tip of his nose nudging your skin. “Talk to me,” he murmurs, even softer this time. “Why’s my sweet girl so squirmy this morning?”

Your voice is barely a whisper. “I need you…”

His hand tightens around your waist just slightly, thumb stroking lazy circles against your hip. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “Need me how, baby?”

You shift again, arching back into him just slightly, your thighs rubbing. He feels it instantly—how warm you are, how wet. His hand slides down, slow and deliberate, cupping your pussy over your panties. You whimper, breath catching in your throat.

“Oh, baby” Matt groans softly, kissing behind your ear. “You’re soaked.”

You nod, still not trusting your voice, and Matt smiles gently against your skin. “So needy, even half-asleep.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s no mocking in it—just love.

“C’mere,” he whispers, guiding you carefully onto your side and then pulling you up into his lap, your back to his chest. His legs stretch out behind yours under the covers as he shifts his hand back down, tucking it between your thighs again.

“You’re okay like this?” he checks gently, mouth close to your ear. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, already trembling with anticipation. “Please…”

Matt kisses the side of your head and slips his hand into your panties, two fingers gliding through your soaked folds. You gasp, clinging to his wrist as he finds your clit right away, stroking it in slow, soft circles—just the way you like.

“Right there?” he asks quietly.

You nod, breath hitching. “Yes… don’t stop, Matt.”

His free hand curls around your stomach, holding you still against him, your back flush with his chest. His lips never leave your skin—whispering praise, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder as his fingers keep moving with that soft, perfect rhythm.

“You’re so good for me,” he breathes. “Letting me touch you like this first thing in the morning. So sweet. So fuckin’ wet, baby.”

You whimper, your thighs trembling as the heat builds—slow and steady, that warm wave rising until your whole body is tight, every nerve drawn toward the center of you.

Matt feels it.

His hold tightens just slightly, his hand still steady. “You’re close, huh? I can feel it—feel y’clit twitchin’ in my fingers. You gonna cum for me, sweet girl?”

You nod, helpless. “M’gonna—Matt, I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby,” he whispers. “I got you.”

And you do—your whole body jerking softly in his lap as the orgasm crashes through you like warm lightning. You gasp his name, grabbing at his arm, your back arching into his chest as you fall apart in his hands.

Matt holds you through it, his fingers slowing but never leaving, rubbing you through every last tremble. He kisses your temple, then your cheek, his voice low and soothing in your ear.

“There you go. That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

You melt into him, boneless and shaking, your breathing slow and uneven.

“Still with me?” he murmurs, smiling against your skin.

You nod, barely able to form words.

He slips his hand out of your panties gently and pulls the covers back over both of you, wrapping his arms tight around your waist again. “You did so good, baby. So perfect.”

You nuzzle back into his chest, legs still twitching slightly. “T-thank you…”

Matt kisses your hair and chuckles softly. “Always, love helpin my girl.”

——————————

link this was inspired by HERE

^warning!! this is an nsfw p-link!! you also need to be logged into twitter to see it!!^

tags; @emely9274 @courta13 @sturniolo-szn2 @chrislover696969 @sophand4n4 @lezleeferguson-120 @slvt4chriss @ivysturnss @auttysturnz @riasturns @iloveduckssm @tezzzzzzzz

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 30 days ago

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your presence — chris sturniolo

pairing: perv!chris x bsf!reader

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

it was never supposed to happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

but you knew what chris was doing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s so fucking embarrassed.

gif credits: @vxnitra

credits to whoever made this au idk who made it!

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 1 month ago

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stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy stepsibling kink, blackmail/dubcon (kinda), begging, edging, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex, sub!chris????

🖤 summary: 🖤 after chris throws a party while your parents are out of town, you talk chris into letting you do something he wouldn't normally let you do in exchange for not ratting him out.

hiii it's @ariestrxsh reporting from my second account so i don't get canceled. you know the drill! don't like? don't read! sorry mom, sorry god, and sorry chris sturniolo. hope y'all never see this!

dividers by @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

The next morning, you woke up to the sun pouring into your window through your sheer curtains, Chris' arms were still wrapped around you as he softly snored beside you. Your head felt fuzzy from the weed the night before, and you had this groggy feeling that would take all morning to shake.

You heard a shuffling downstairs and sat up quickly, causing Chris to stir beside you. "Chris! I think our parents are home!" You hoarsely whispered, pulling the blanket off of you in a swift motion and staring wide-eyed at your door, ready for one or both of them to burst through any minute.

Your heart hammered away, ready for them to reprimand the two of you, first for the state of the house - and then for being in bed together.

"Don't worry. I told some buddies I'd give 'em free weed if they helped clean up from the party," he grumbled in a tired voice, completely unbothered.

You took a deep breath, the panicked feeling dwindling away and your heart returning to a normal rate, but you still felt a bit of unease. What would keep his friends from coming up and walking in on the two of you?

You'd just die if anyone you knew found out you were sleeping with your stepbrother.

"I told them a girl stayed over. They won't be bothering us at all," Chris told you as if reading your mind. He flashed you a smile before he yawned, stretching his arms overhead.

Your gaze met his for a moment after his perfect blue eyes fluttered open, but he glanced away almost immediately, worried you'd be able to see how soft he'd gotten for you.

You admired his full, pink lips, his disheveled hair, and the bit of stubble that was coming in on his face after a few days of not shaving. That's when a diabolical idea popped into your head.

"You know, you're still an asshole for throwing a party," you huffed, throwing your legs over the side of your bed and standing to your feet.

"You had fun," Chris chuckled, rubbing his eyes and replaying the events from the night before.

"You know, I should tell on you. Your mom would be pissed," you replied, giving him a mischevious grin.

"You wouldn't dare," Chris narrowed his gaze at you, trying to figure out what your angle was.

"I mean, I won't tell... if you can give me something I want," you replied, throwing a fresh shirt on over your head and shooting a smirk in his direction. Chris sighed, running his fingers through his messy, brown hair.

"And what would that be?" He hesitantly asked you. You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to assess what he'd do to avoid getting caught. He gave a deadpan stare, knowing you weren't just going to ask for a normal favor.

Regardless of what the favor was, he was inclined to do it. He'd been on thin ice with your parents lately, and he knew he'd be in major trouble if you ratted on him.

"Let me dom you," you demanded, placing your hand on your left hip and leaning into it. Chris scoffed loudly.

"You're outta your damn mind. I'm not gonna be your fuckin' pet you can do whatever ya want to." Chris crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Then you know who's gonna be outta their minds when they get back in town?" You retorted, fighting the smirk starting in the corner of your lip. Chris groaned, knowing it was in his best interest to give in to what you wanted.

"What's it gonna be, Chris? You gonna give me what I want? Or am I telling our parents about the little party you threw?" You wondered, tilting your head to the side and giving him an inquisitive look.

"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked as if he were considering it, his face completely devoid of emotion.

"Whatever I tell you to do," you giggled.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're sick."

"Come on, Chris. I know you'd do anything for me," you replied, slithering back into your bed.

"I don't know about anything."

"Well, you'd do anything to save your own ass," you responded, climbing on top of your stepbrother's lap and straddling him. He let out a groan as you shifted your weight around on his erection that was pinned to his stomach, a sound he made partially out of pain and partially out of pleasure.

"Oh, my god. See? You're already hard just at the thought of me dominating you," you teased him, pinning his wrists above his head and rolling your hips forward. He made another noise, this time a little more desperate.

His cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment, realizing that whiny, pathetic sound did, in fact, come from him. You were surprised when he didn't immediately wiggle free from your grasp even though he easily could have.

"That's not why I'm hard, fuckin' slut," Chris rasped, lifting his hips up and pressing his cock into your clothed cunt. "I'm hard thinkin' about all the ways I'm gonna punish you after you have your fun."

"You ever been dominated by a girl before?" You questioned him, arching your brow and taking control of the conversation again.

"No," he responded, sounding agitated.

"Awh. Poor baby. You must be so scared right now," you said in a faux sympathetic voice as you stuck out your bottom lip in a fake pout.

"Scared? Of what?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Scared because you might like it," you poked fun at him. Chris' lip twitched, threatening a contemptuous smile at your accusation. His wrists strained against your hold, but not enough to break free.

"I ain't afraid of nothin'."

"Nothing, huh? Not even afraid of your friends hearing you whimper for me?" You cooed in a soft voice, still grinding against him. He tightened his jaw, fighting back the noises that threatened to spill from his lips. "I bet you're just dying for me to put it in my mouth, aren't you?" You purred, smiling down at him.

He flared his nostrils in frustration. "Do it then, slut, and quit talkin' about it," he huffed back.

"Not with that attitude. Come on, pretty boy. Ask nicely," you taunted him, leaning in and nudging his head to the side with your nose before your lips latched onto a vulnerable spot on his neck.

"Not a fuckin' chance," Chris whispered, hoping you couldn't hear the desire in his voice.

"That's too bad then. I guess I'll just kiss your neck and grind against you until you choose to be nice," you softly spoke, your lip tickling his earlobe. He swallowed hard. He could feel goosebumps forming on his warm skin.

"Works for me," he said in a cocky manner, trying to fight the urge to give into you. You noticed that he hadn't budged once from the position you had him in, his wrists still secured in your grip. There was something about the way that he was just letting you that was so hot.

You started sucking on his sensitive flesh, gently biting down and causing him to shudder and gasp. His dominant mask was slipping.

Never in a million years did Chris picture himself allowing some girl to dominate him and for him to like it. To be fair, though, you weren't just some girl.

"Such a good boy. So responsive for me," you whispered into the crook of his neck, your hot breath hitting his skin. You could feel the tension leave his body as he started to submit to you. "I bet you want me to suck on it so bad, don't you?" You seductively mewled, pulling away from his neck to admire his facial features.

His hooded eyes stared back at you with lust. His cheeks were flushed and pink with embarrassment and desire, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. "Mhmm," he softly hummed, nodding his head eagerly. "Suck on it."

"Ask nicely," you reiterated.

"Please suck on it."

"Beg for it," you told him.

Chris loudly sighed, preparing to make a fool of himself. "Fuck. Please, please suck on it. You're killin' me here," Chris whined, wetting his lips that were pink with arousal.

"I don't think you want it bad enough," you teased, rolling your hips once more and grinding against him.

"Fuck. It's fuckin' aching. Please put it in your mouth," Chris demanded in a breathy voice, squirming beneath you. You tightened your grasp on his wrists, giving him a look like you knew he could do better than that. "Fuck. Please. I'm desperate," he pleaded with you.

"Keep going, baby," you softly replied.

"I need it. P-please. Put it in your mouth," he begged.

A smile crept into the corner of your lip in satisfaction with how pathetic he finally looked and sounded. "That's it. Good boy," you complimented him, releasing his wrists and scooting down further onto the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbows, peering down at the way you slowly slithered off his lap and positioned yourself on your knees between his legs. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pajama pants and his underwear, slowly pulling them down. He slightly raised his hips, and his hard cock sprung out, slapping his stomach as you set it free.

"Awh. Look. He's so pretty.. all shiny," you whispered, grabbing his shaft and admiring the clear fluid coating his tip.

"Don't... talk about my dick like that," Chris protested.

"Don't talk about him like what?" You asked, sneering at him as you circled his tip with the pad of your finger. This simple contact made Chris quietly moan, but he cleared his throat, trying to cover the sound.

"Callin' it cute names and talkin' about it like it isn't fuckin' attached to me. God, there's somethin' the matter with ya," Chris snarled, but the look on his face gave him away. He was secretly loving this, and you could tell.

"What? You don't want me telling you how pretty he is?" You cooed, looking into his eyes. He rolled his eyes, his chest rising and falling at a faster rate as his breathing pattern sped up. You leaned forward, your mouth hovering less an inch above his cock. You blew cold air over his glistening tip, causing him to shudder.

"Fuck," he moaned, tipping his head back. You tightened your hold on his length and started slowly stroking him up and down. He gazed back down at you, biting down on his lip. He wondered how long you were going to tease him for, and there was a part of him that didn't totally mind it - a part that maybe was even looking forward to it just a little bit.

You leaned in a little more and placed a tender peck on his swollen tip, causing his cock to twitch. "Awh. He's so sensitive," you cooed, kissing it again.

"Oh, my god," Chris groaned beneath you, trying to sound annoyed, but he was grasping at the sheets. You started working down his length, gently brushing your lips over his shaft and giving him soft kisses. Then, you worked your way back up, nearing his head with your mouth, and with every inch you moved closer, his breath grew more shallow.

You finally closed your lips down around his leaking tip and slurped up the shiny fluid. His hand flew up, and he tenderly ran his fingers through your hair. "Oh, shit," he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as they rolled back. His neck craned back, and his head softly hit your pillow.

"If you try to take control and push my head down, I'll stop, and we'll start from the beginning," you threatened him as you felt his grasp on your hair tighten. He picked his head back up, glanced down at you, and nodded.

He kept his hand there, but he loosened his grip, soothingly stroking your hair. He didn't use any force, but he was fighting the urge the whole time.

You were moving painfully slow - gently licking, tenderly sucking, lightly kissing. He started to whimper under the feeling of your mouth. The pace was driving him crazy. He was always used to making you submit, but being on the receiving end, patiently waiting for you to make your next move was so difficult for him.

You finally took him into your mouth, wrapping your plump lips around him and sinking down his length. He smiled down at you, using every bit of self-restraint he had to keep himself from forcing your head down and making you gag on him.

You hummed around his cock, and he had to bite back a loud moan. "I think you're liking this a little too much," you accused him, giving him a smirk. He didn't say a word, but his silence spoke volumes.

You went back to slowly stroking him while your mouth worked on his tip. Moans poured effortlessly from him again as he grew more sensitive due to your teasing. You bobbed up and down on his cock, drawing him closer to the edge.

You flicked your gaze up at him, his desperate blue eyes staring back. You could see the pleasure engraved in his expression, his pinched together brows, his slacked jaw, and his parted lips. You could hear his breathing turn into panting.

He curled his toes, trying to remain composed and attempting to keep his whimpering from getting too out of hand, but he was miserably failing.

Just when you thought he couldn't take anymore, you withdrew all sensation. Chris let out a defeated sigh. "I was so close..." He fussed, but he quickly cleared his throat when he heard how whiny he sounded.

"I know you were. I bet your friends could tell, too. You're being so loud. You trying to get us caught?" You giggled.

His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "Shut up," he barked back.

"That's not very nice, Chris. You wanna cum, don't you? Only good boys get to finish," you mocked him in a condescending tone. Chris nodded, his eyes silently begging you to put your mouth back on him.

"Tell me what you want, Christopher," you cooed, biting back a satisfied smile as you watched him struggle to uphold his collected facade. You'd never seem him so vulnerable and submissive before. It was driving you crazy.

"Please let me cum," he whimpered. You shook your head no with a glint in your eye, still lazily stroking him. Little did he know, you were just getting started.

He was growing more and more impatient, little whines slipping past his lips as you placed your thumb on his tip and started rubbing it. Your touch was heavenly and no matter how hard he tried to seem indifferent to it, he couldn't hide the pure pleasure he felt.

"God, you're falling apart," you smirked, your hungry stare fixed on him. You took him into your mouth again, repeating the pattern, starting off slow and then going faster until he was writhing beneath you in desperation. Then you withdrew all sensation again, earning a frustrated sigh from Chris.

You did this a few more times, watching him as he struggled, knuckles growing white as he tugged at the sheets, toes curling, screwing his eyes shut, and tightening his jaw. Then you'd stop, give him a smirk, and listen to him beg.

Chris usually needed really rough, really fast, constant stimulation in order to finish, but with how expertly you'd edged him, he felt like he could cum if you simply breathed on his cock a certain way.

"I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, please, please," he whimpered, his voice breaking into sobs, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, a smile curling on your lips as you savored the sight, knowing it probably would never happen again.

Your gaze fell to his pretty cock, and you watched his precum mixed with your saliva leak out of his swollen tip and down his length. "That's it," you purred, twisting your wrist as you stroked him, his pretty sounds encouraging you.

You abruptly stopped when you felt his member pulse in your grasp, withholding all stimulation again. You weren't going to let him get off that easily. "You're gonna fuckin' kill me," Chris whispered, anticipation eating him alive.

You gave him a smile as you sat up and slowly started to remove your panties. Chris let out a sigh of relief, eager to feel your cunt wrapped around him, but you continued to move rather unhurriedly, slinking your underwear down your thighs like you were giving a striptease.

Chris watched hungrily as you slowly spread your legs, feeling the cool air hit your glistening folds. You teased him further, reaching between your thighs and rubbing your clit in circles. "How bad do you want it?" You asked, holding eye contact.

"I want it so bad. Please," he whimpered. You giggled at his desperation, and then you straddled him, lining him up with your entrance. However, instead of putting it in right away, you took your time, slowly dragging his swollen head over your slit a few times, taunting him even more.

A few more strangled moans passed through his lips as you slipped just the tip into your hole. He looked up at you with his needy blue eyes, waiting patiently as you started to slowly suck him in.

"Fuck," he whispered, reaching up and brushing away the sweat from his brow. You sunk down on him inch by inch, watching him further lose his composure.

Once you were completely stretched around him, you paused all movement, pinning his arms above his head again. "You want me to ride you, don't you?" You cooed, staying completely still.

"Yes. Please," he responded, his voice cracking in desperation as his wrists strained against your hold.

You figured you'd tortured the boy enough already, so you decided to finally see it through, giving him a bit of relief from your teasing.

You grinned and watched his eyes roll back as you worked at an unhurried pace, drawing circles with your waist and massaging him with your walls as you slid up and down on him. He relished in the sensation, a guttural moan passed through his lips. He throbbed inside of you, the knot in his stomach threatening to come undone any moment.

You sped up the motion of your hips, grinding on his cock as you peered down at his face, his features saturated with pleasure. "Be a good boy and finish for me, hmm?" You cooed. He nodded in response, a slew of pathetic whimpers filling the air.

You felt the muscles in his wrists tighten against your palms as his long-awaited release crashed over him like a tidal wave. His length pulsed inside of you, flooding your cunt with his thick, hot cum. His whole body shook at the feeling, adrenaline and dopamine coursing through him.

He looked beautiful panting beneath you, staring back with glossed over eyes and a blissful smile, his face turning an ever deeper shade of red as he realized how foolish and pathetic he must have appeared to you in his most desperate moments. He couldn't believe how he'd begged you to let him cum and then busted at you purring the words, good boy.

You smirked down at him, catching your breath as you finally let go of his wrists. His hands immediately flew up, and he buried his face in them, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"If you ever tell anyone I liked that, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a fuckin' week," Chris chuckled once his shyness subsided, running his long, thin fingers through his disheveled hair that was sticking up in all directions.

"Ooh, fun. Don't threaten me with a good time," you teased. In one swift motion, he swung you off of him and pinned you to the bed underneath him, earning a squeal from you in response.

"Okay, you kinky little slut. What I meant to say is, if ya tell anyone I liked that, I'll never fuck you again. How 'bout that?" He replied, but there was no bite to his tone.

"Even if you weren't my stepbrother, I'd never tell anyone the things we do. That's private. Just between us," you told him with a bit of seriousness, your eyes locked on his.

Chris almost felt a deeper sense of connection and security with you after sharing such a vulnerable part of himself and knowing he wouldn't have to worry that the details surrounding it getting out.

He laid his head on your chest that rose and fell with your breath, listening to the sound of your heartbeat slow as you recovered. You played with his messy hair, gently sifting through each strand. "So, you won't tell our parents about me throwing a party while they were out of town?" He asked quietly, tracing circles with his fingertips over the top of your thigh.

"Hmmm. I think I just need one more thing from you before I can promise that," you smugly responded, softly scratching his head.

"What?" Chris groaned, anticipating the worst as he looked up at you with a pout on his perfect pink lips.

"Well, a cup of coffee would be nice," you chuckled. Chris gave you a relieved sigh and rolled his tired blue eyes in annoyance, but he nodded, thankful that your next request was much simpler than the first.

He kissed you before he slipped out of your bed and into his sweatpants from the night before that were balled up on your floor, and he trudged downstairs.

He made two cups of coffee, one for you and one for himself while his friends grilled him about who the girl was he had upstairs with him.

They all gave each other puzzled looks when he remained tight-lipped about it. It wasn't like Chris to withhold information like that. He was usually an open book with them about his sex life, probably giving too much detail. However, this time, he kept the conversation with them vague, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lip.

It was kind of hard for him to not brag to them about banging his own stepsister, especially because he knew it would earn him high fives, praises, and envious looks, all gestures that would stroke his ego, but he held his tongue.

"Well, whoever you have up there, she sounds like she's enjoying herself," one of his friends commented, slapping him on the back. He avoided eye contact, his cheeks turning a rosy pink color as he suspected that the sounds his friend heard probably came from him, not the girl he had upstairs.

He composed himself, laughing along and playing it off while waiting for the coffee to brew. He gave each of them a joint to keep them satisfied without answering any of their questions, and he made his way back up to your bedroom with a mug in each hand, the whole time thinking about all the ways he was going to ruin you for humiliating him in front of his friends.

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 1 month ago

Text

EARN IT

PAIRING: NERD!MATT x ADHD!READER

IN WHICH: your adhd brain won’t stay on track during study night, so matt slides between your thighs with his glasses still on and tells you he’ll only keep going if you get the answers right WC: 1.2K

matt was seated beside you on the floor, cross-legged in his usual perfect posture, a stack of color-coded flashcards in one hand and your shared laptop open in front of him. the two of you had been reviewing exam content for nearly half an hour, though only five minutes of that time could actually be counted as productive. he was wearing a fitted gray t-shirt, glasses slightly low on the bridge of his nose as he scrolled through the quiz doc he’d made for you—organized, annotated, and completely wasted on the way your brain had started to short circuit the moment he pushed his sleeves up.

you were sitting on your knees beside him, trying to focus. trying, honestly, so hard. but it was a losing battle. his forearms looked too good. his voice was too steady. the way he spoke—confident, calm, patient—made it hard to focus on anything but the sound of it, the shape of it. you weren’t looking at the laptop anymore. you were looking at his mouth. and when he turned to ask you a question, you realized, too late, that you hadn’t been listening for at least the last few minutes.

“did you catch that?” he asked, holding up a flashcard. his voice was gentle but clearly suspicious.

you blinked. “uhh... sort of?”

matt sighed softly through his nose, not in frustration, but in that familiar “you’re mine and I know exactly what you’re doing” way. he set the flashcard aside and turned his body toward you fully now, arm draped casually over his bent knee. “what part of the question did you ‘sort of’ catch?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was fighting back a smirk.

“I got the part where you said... 'what enzyme'... and then I got distracted because I was wondering if your reading glasses are real or just a kink accessory.” you smiled sweetly. “are they prescription, matthew?”

his jaw twitched like he was trying not to laugh, or break. “you are, without a doubt, the most infuriating 'student' I’ve ever had.”

“good thing I’m your girlfriend and not your student, huh?”

he shook his head slowly and shifted closer, his hand sliding over your bare thigh like a warning. his touch wasnt rough—jst firm enough to get your attention, to pull you back into your body. “you can’t go five minutes without zoning out.”

you shrugged. “to be fair, you're really hot. you make it hard to think.”

that was when matt’s eyes changed—still soft, still familiar, but darker now. more deliberate. he sat up on his knees and cupped your jaw with one hand, thumb brushing just under your lip like he was deciding something. “you wanna come tonight?” he asked, voice casual—too casual.

your breath hitched. “um. yes?”

“then earn it,” he said simply.

you barely had time to react before he was guiding you backward, his palm warm against your chest as he pushed you gently down against the rug. he was methodical as he kissed your collarbone, then the line of your neck, then tugged your shorts down with steady hands, slow and deliberate like he had all the time in the world. his glasses stayed on. his eyes never left you.

you spread your legs for him instinctively, your thighs already slick with anticipation, but he didn’t go for your cunt right away. instead, he kissed down your sternum, then your belly, pausing to mouth at the soft skin just above your waistband before sliding your panties down, too. when he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh—warm, open-mouthed, wet—you exhaled hard, already arching toward him.

“matt,” you breathed. “please.”

he settled between your thighs, hands sliding underneath to grip the backs, pulling you closer with a quiet grunt. his lips hovered, not touching, just breathing heat against you. “answer the question I asked,” he murmured, eyes flicking up over the rim of his glasses.

your brain stalled. “I—what?”

“the one about the enzyme,” he said, and you felt his lips brush your skin when he spoke. “if you get it right, I’ll keep going.”

you were dizzy already. “matt. I can’t—”

he dipped his head and licked a single, slow stroke up your cunt, just once, his tongue dragging through your slick like he already knew how desperate you were for more. then he pulled away again. “you can,” he said softly. “you just have to try.”

and then he kissed you — just above your clit — lips warm and soft, tongue flicking gently before he went lower. you moaned, instantly arching toward him, already wet from the slow pressure of his voice and the threat of what he’d promised. his tongue flattened against you, slow and unhurried, dragging upward in one perfect, measured stroke. he kept going, lips locking over your clit now, tongue flicking in small, devastating circles. you tried to think — really, you did — but your mind was pure static.

his hands slid under your ass, holding you steady, thumbs pressing into your thighs to keep them open. the cold metal of his watch brushed your skin — a little chill against your fevered body. his glasses were still on, just barely slipping down his nose, and it was unfair how focused he looked even like this, like he was reading you the same way he read textbooks: deeply, without flinching.

“matt—” you gasped, legs already trembling. “holy shit—don’t stop—”

he pulled back slightly, mouth glistening, chin wet, breath warm against your slick heat. “answer the question.”

you forced your eyes open. “phosphofructokinase.”

matt smiled, slow and pleased, and this time when he lowered his head, he didn’t hold back.

hismouth locked over your clit with devastating intent, tongue flicking just enough to make your thighs tense, then circling, wet and firm and rhythmic. he groaned low in his throat, like he loved the way you tasted, and the sound made you shudder. his grip on your thighs tightened just slightly when you started to buck against his face, and the way he moaned into you only made it worse—made it better—made it impossible to stay quiet.

you were already close, already panting, your hands tangled in his hair as he worked you open, devouring you with slow precision. he alternated between gentle sucks and faster flicks, the wet sound of it filling the room, your own breath breaking in uneven gasps.

just as your legs began to shake, just as you arched up, teetering on the edge—matt stopped.

you nearly sobbed. “no—no, matt, please—”

he pressed his mouth against your inner thigh, lips soft and damp, breath hot. “what enzyme breaks glycogen into glucose-1 phosphate?”

you choked on a moan. “G-glycogen phosphorylase.”

he grinned against your skin. “good girl.”

and then his mouth was back on you, tongue firm and fast now, no teasing. his glasses pressed against your lower stomach as he held you steady, his tongue never faltering as your orgasm ripped through you—tight, hot, and overwhelming. you came with a gasp, legs trembling, fingers clutching at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself as he licked you through it, refusing to stop until your hips stuttered and your muscles gave out completely.

when he finally pulled back, his plush lips were swollen, his face glistening, and he looked up at you like he was studying a masterpiece. “now,” he said, adjusting his glasses with two fingers, “are we ready to focus?”

tags: @zenithsturniolo @sturnsblogs @sirensdollesque @adoremattsturns @espressqe

requested by: @sturnsblogs cee cee… so sorry this ended up being smutty. I swear I didn’t mean for it to go there but once I started… I genuinely couldn’t stop myself. it spiraled. please forgive me LMAO <3

a/n: thank you so much for reading, seriously. it means the world that you took the time to engage with this fic. I appreciate every like, reblog, comment, and message more than I can even explain.

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 1 month ago

Text

⌗ . . . YOU LIKE IT OR NAH?

WARNINGS : SMUT. THIGH KISSING. ORAL (f & m receiving). 69 POSITION. and more?

matt had been gone on tour for weeks with his brothers. you’d facetime him here and there when he had the time too—but really it wasn’t ever enough for you.

you hadn’t facetimed him in a week or two. so when matt had shown up at your place after getting back home from tour—you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off of him.

he had let his beard grow out.

he never let it get to the length it was right now, always shaving it before it became too much. but now? you couldn’t deny that it was turning you on—seeing the dark hair line his jaw, the way his hand came up to rub at it. and god you couldn’t help but to think about his face between your thighs, feeling it rub against you.

it had been so long that you were ready to snap. the sexual tension in your body becoming too much—your fingers and toys weren’t enough while he was away.

so that’s how you ended up here—your legs on either side of him, straddling his lap. your mouths were on one another, teeth clashing and tongues fighting over one another until you gave in and let him take over.

he smirked against your lips, his arms wrapping around you and leaning you back. you gasped into his mouth, your hands coming up to thread into his hair as he laid you flat on your back against the sheets.

when he pulled away you were breathless. your lips pink and swollen, teeth already digging into your bottom lip as matt’s eyes raked over your figure. “it’s been so long sweetheart,” he whispered, his body already leaning down to trail light kisses along your stomach, down to your thighs. “did y’miss me that bad?” he already knew the answer to that—could feel the answer to it with how soaked your panties were.

“shut up.” you breathed, your body arching into the feeling of his lips against your already warm skin. your hands were still in his hair, tugging the strands lightly as he moved lower, his lips finally kissing along your thighs. you could feel the way his beard was already rubbing against you—and fuck it felt amazing.

matt chuckled, letting his teeth nip at the sensitive flesh making you yelp. “y’like it? or nah?” he asked, placing another kiss to your inner thigh, allowing you time to answer. you nod quickly, “yes. fuck—i love it.” you admit.

he hums, poking his tongue out to run over his lips. “knew you would.” he muttered before going back down, this time placing his lips higher and closer to your soaked pussy. gently he brought a hand up, letting his fingers ghost against the edge of your panties before slowly dipping them underneath and tugging them to the side.

“look at you.” he cooed, his eyes now staring at your bare core. his thumbs come up, one pressing onto your clit, rubbing in small circles before pulling away just as fast as his touch came. you whined, hips bucking up toward him, but he just laughed—letting his thumbs trail down, spreading your folds apart. he licked his lips before putting them together, blowing cold air against your pussy, making you jolt.

“matt!” you squeaked, your legs trying to close around his head from the sensation. but his body was in the way, his arms wrapping around your thighs and holding you open. before you could let out another word, his tongue found your clit. the wet muscle moving in slow circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. a moan slipped from your lips, your hips rolling up slowly to create more friction.

his eyes watched the way your face contorted, sucking in sharp breaths when his tongue found the right spot. he was going so slow, like he wanted to savor this moment between your thighs forever. your mind began to go blank from his tongue, not having a care in the world except how good he felt.

your head lifted, eyes peering down at him as he buried himself deeper into your cunt. you bit your lip, gripped his hair harder and pulling him closer to you. he looked so good—you wish he could stay there forever, but really you wanted something else.

you wanted to suck him off.

your hand tugs his hair again, but not closer, no. but to tug him up. reluctantly he let you drag him back, not wanting to leave your fold so soon. he was panting, eyes dark and blown, his mouth shiny with your slick. your fingers trailed his jaw, watching the way it clenched until your eyes tracked further down, eyeing the hard outline of his cock that was still trapped in his sweats.

you couldn’t help but to stare for a moment, licking your own lips at the sight of it. you could feel how much you ached for him. “matt..” you mumbled, your eyes coming up to lock with his. “i wanna—I wanna suck you off while you eat me out.” and his eyes go wide. “what?” is all he said. and you look at him. “i want you to lay back. i wanna sit on your face while I suck your cock, please.” you begged, but you didn’t need to say more, matt’s head was already nodding. you bit your lip, grinning.

“take these off.” you breathed, your hand coming forward, tugging at his waistband. “now.” he wasted no time, sitting up just long enough to drag his pants and boxers down—his cock already flushed and leaking and big. next came his shirt, he tugged it over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room before moving back on the bed to lay down for you.

“c’mon get up here.” he said, leaning forward and reaching for your waist. he helped guide you forward, turning you around and setting yourself over him. and the moment your thighs straddled his face—your body stretched out over him, your own mouth hovering over his cock. you felt his hands on your ass. squeezing the flesh and giving you a light smack before positioning you just right, pulling you down onto his mouth moments later.

you gasped at the sudden contact, the sound quickly turned into a moan—high-pitched and needy as his tongue began to slid between your folds again. his beard rubbing against your skin once more, only adding to how sensitive you were.

your lips finally wrapped around the head of his cock, your tongue flicking against the slit, and he groaned loud into your cunt, hips bucking up toward your mouth. he slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat in one stroke, the sound of his groan sent vibrations right through you—straight to your core—and you had to brace yourself with both hands on his thighs.

“mmph—just like that sweetheart, doing so good.” he rasped between your folds, his mouth then moving up to suck your clit between his lips, making your body tremble more. you tried to focus on your task, moaning around his length as you took more of him in, letting your spit drip down the sides. your hand gripping what you couldn’t fit, stroking him in rhythm with your mouth. but every time his tongue pressed in deeper into you—your mouth stopped, letting him rest in your mouth as you ground your hips against his face—practically humping him.

but his grip on your hips tightened, holding you still and stopping your movements before landing a smack to your ass, a signal to tell you to keep going. his tongue everywhere. lips wrapped around your clit, face buried in your pussy like it was his last meal. your thighs were beginning to shake—moans muffled around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut with each drag of his mouth. it was filthy—the sounds of you both moaning into each other, wet and obscene, and desperate.

“can’t believe how fuckin’ sweet you taste.” he breathed, pulling back just to watch as you clenched around nothing. “missed this pussy so much, baby—swear I almost lost my mind.” and he was right back between your folds. you whimpered against the base of his cock, licking and sucking him deeper, your hand now working what your mouth couldn’t handle.

you could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, your stomach beginning to draw taut. your head bobbed up and down faster, pulling all the way up to suck on the tip of his cock before moving back down, letting the tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly. you gagged around him, your eyes rolling back as he started to fuck you faster with his tongue, matching the speed you were going.

your back arched, mouth falling off his cock with a broken gasp, your hips grinding your pussy against his tongue once more until you came. your thighs locked around his head and he just kept going, eating you through it, his beard rubbing against your swollen cunt, your cries muffled against his stomach.

you laid there for a moment, absolutely spent. but you didn’t want to leave him like this. so it wasn’t long before you were leaning back down, mouth finding him again. “your turn.” you whispered, voice hoarse. and you took him in again—feeding the head of his cock into your mouth until he was deep in your throat. you relaxed around him, your hand tight at the base. you wanted to taste him.

you continued the same pace from before, feeling him slide against your tongue. you didn’t care how messy you were, letting all your spit drip from the corners of your mouth—you just wanted him to cum. he was panting into your pussy now, his tongue dragging lazily between your folds, but his hips started twitching. you could feel how close he was—how badly he wanted to cum.

you hollowed your cheeks and moaned around him, fingers reaching down and gently cupping his balls, moving them in your hand. he moaned, head tipping back as his fingers dig into your skin. “f-fuck—gonna cum.”

you didn’t stop. you kept going. your mouth and hands working his cock until his balls drew taut, his hips pushing up deep one last time as came with a load groan. ropes of cum spilled down your throat—his hips stuttering beneath you. and you pulled away slowly, swallowing everything, then kissed the tip sweetly before moving away.

when you finally moved off him, you both collapsed onto the bed next to one another—sweaty, panting, ruined. you shifted, draping half of your body over his own and his arms came out to wrap around your waist, dragging you closer to him. he pressed a kiss to your head, tucking you into his neck.

“does this mean i should keep it?” he asked, chuckling slightly. you nodded into the crook of his neck, pressing a light kiss there in return. “definitely.”

a/n : in honor of matt’s beard (this seems rushed i am SORRY)

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 1 month ago

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--- 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 ---

tw .... edging, severe overstimulating, vibrator, squirting, dom!matt, HOT SHIT

You had been an ass all day— ignoring him, rolling your eyes, and giving him all the attitude. And that's how you ended up here.

You look up with both fear and pure arousal, at matt standing above you with a grin on his face.

Your arms are bound by soft satin ribbon to the posts of the bed near the top, and your legs are equally constrained and spread apart.

You’re completely stripped naked from head to toe, and you are fucking drenched. For the past half hour matt’s been teasing you— sucking on your tits and leaving hickeys all over your body, licking every single fold except for where you need it the most.

You’re desperate, sweating, and clenching around nothing. Every time his mouth or finger approaches your core, you buck your hips wildly to get some friction, but he never once touches your clit.

“N-ng, p- please, matt,” you cry out as he licks a stripe up your slit, stopping right before your clit while he massages your breast with his hands.

His eyes darken as you continue to beg, straining against the ribbons holding you down. All you want right now is him— his mouth, his fingers, his dick— anything.

He’d never edged you for half an hour straight and you’ve never felt like this before— this desperate and primal.

“You’ve been pretty uncooperative,” he says, tsking. “Always moving around.” You feel a tear slip past your eyes as he licks you again.

“N-no please, I’ll be good, please,” you whine, trying to refrain from moving around. With a devious smirk, he stopped and stepped away.

You groan in frustration and try craning your neck to see what he’s doing. Matt walks over to the night stand and opens the bottom drawer. At first you're confused, then your heart practically drops.

In his hand is a vibrator— the kind that goes into you and rests on your clit at the same time. Matt has a practically evil look on his face as he walks back over, a hand resting on your slippery thigh.

Slowly, he inserts it into your leaking cunt, and you moan out loud from the feeling of finally being penetrated.

“Since you want it so bad—” he whispers. “You’re going to get it. Over, and over, and over.”

You whine and buck your hips into the toy, begging him to turn it on. With a chuckle, he reaches for the remote, turning it on medium.

Almost immediately, you cry out and arch your back fully off the bed, moaning.

“F-fuck matt!” you scream. You explode in a hot wet mess all over the bed, unable to control the noises falling out of you.

Matt dives in, slurping all your juices up while turning down the vibrator go to give you a moment. He groans loudly, and struggles to not cum himself.

Then, without pause, he turns it back on medium. With a cry, you resist against the ribbons tying you down.

“T-too much! Matt, too much,” you beg, but he doesn’t let up, he knows you have a safe word.

“But you were being so bratty today…” he says, grinning. “and I haven’t heard a sorry yet.”

“S-sorry!” you yell, the overstimulation feeling so painful and so good at the same time.

“Not good enough…” he whispers.

“Now, I’ve got to go run some errands, yeah? See you in 30 minutes baby.” you cry out as he leaves the room, the vibrator still embedded in you and on medium— just as you approach your orgasm, squirting yet again.

And then, the door clicks shut, leaving you a heaving, crying, wet mess on the bed.

- - - 20 minutes later - - -

Matt’s POV

You come back quickly— you’d gone to take a walk for 30 minutes, but the straining boner in your pants and the thought of y/n a mess in your bedroom had just convinced you to come back earlier.

The second you open the front door, you can hear her moans. Loud, desperate, and the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard. Your dick immediately rehardened— not that it softened much in the first place.

You practically run over to your room, and open the door.

On your bed is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever fucking seen. Your perfect girlfriend is layed on the bed, arms and legs beautifully tied and bound to the edges of the bed. Her whole body and face is flushed, sweat on every surface of her.

Her undone hair is sticking to her face— and her face— oh god her face was fucked dumb. Her eyes were fully rolled to the back of her head, mouth open and slobbering. Tears fell down her face and you could tell she was reaching another orgasm— who knew how many she had already had.

Her thighs, practically her whole legs down to her knees, and the bed beneath her were soaked through completely, all with her own release.

“Hnngg-ngg,” was all she could get out— so fucked dumb that she couldn’t even greet you.

“Oh baby,” you growl, closing the door and coming over to help her reach her last climax. She responds with a sharp cry as you take the toy out.

The part that was previously inside her was taken out, and the release that was kept inside spilled out, adding more liquid to the mess.

It’s such an erotic scene that you can feel yourself about to cum. Without hesitation and as fast as possible, you pull down your pants and whip out your leaking cock— your boxers soaked in precum and the tip angry and red.

With a quick motion, you shove yourself inside her walls. She’s so soaked that it just slides right in, but still so tight. Her warm walls clamp hard around you, sucking your dick in.

With one last cry, she cums, wrapped around you. With a final gush, she squirts yet again, triggering your orgasm. It's all so strong that you swear to god you lose vision for a second, flopping onto her.

She’s breathing heavily, barely conscious and letting out little whimpers from the aftershocks.

With a slow motion, you take yourself out, her liquids following.

“F-fuck matt,” she whimpers, just laying there. The sight of her is so stunning that you’re literally rock hard again, but you ignore it to care for her.

You grab a tissue box from your nightstand and clean her off bit by bit, wiping her legs and body down.

“Hey, was that ok babe?” you mumble— the two of you had never done something that extreme before

“Mylugyou,” she mumbles. You look over confused.

“What? You good baby?”

“I love you,” she mumbles again, smiling softly.

With a sigh of relief you reply, “I love you too baby.”

ik i've posted this but literally only 10 people saw it cause i was shadowbanned then.

@sturnbrooke @emely9274 @arianna1342 @gemzyy @namelesssav @chestersturn @ellieluvssturniolos @tits4matt @vanteguccir @luke8989 @matt-sturnioloo @glee2skkii @riggysworld @sturnslux3 @cass-sturn @auttysturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @chrismakesmewet @whore4chris @sturns-mermaid @eeyoresturnz @httpssturns @chrxsprettygirl @bernardsbendystraws @chrisbratt333 @aurorasturnz @iluvchr1s @sturniolosymphony @slvt4subchratt @sturn-ath3na @chrispycremedonut @matts-hersheys-kisses @starstrucktyrantinfluencer

yahoo!

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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The backwards hat and the purple lighting 😩 sedate me now (my video)

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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heyyy are you a livie(olivia rodrigo fan) bc on ur asking this idk what it’s called it says “ spill ur guts” like idk if it’s a reference or not but yah🩷

Hi!! I wasn’t referencing her album, but I do love Olivia Rodrigo! 💕

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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Envy The Leaves

Chapter 12

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As my eyes flutter open, the warm sunlight pours in through the windows, casting a golden glow across the room. I shift slightly, feeling an emptiness beside me that was once filled with the familiar warmth and comfort of Matt. A hint of disappointment washes over me at his absence, but I quickly brush it aside; I wouldn’t want anyone walking in on us cuddled up together on the couch. He chose to sneak away while I was still asleep, and that thought comforts me.

Just as I settle into the quiet of the morning, the peaceful silence is quickly disturbed by the sound of yelling.

“Okay, motherfuckers! Who’s ready for some fun today?!” Chris’s booming voice echoes down the staircase, accompanied by the rhythmic clapping of his hands.

“I’m tired of all this laziness! Get up, get up, get up!” he exclaims, bounding down the stairs with an infectious energy.

He spots me, still half-asleep and snuggled under a blanket on the couch, and his grin widens.

“Come on, Mills, get your jumping pants on!” Jumping pants? What is he up to now?

Chris races down the hall towards Matt and Ethan’s bedrooms, his footsteps pounding against the floor. He begins banging on doors, his laughter ringing out as he swiftly runs away to avoid any retaliation from Matt.

Next, he scampers downstairs to do the same to Madison, his excitement filling the house.

Before long, we’re all gathered on the couch, our curious faces turned towards Chris, eagerly awaiting his big reveal.

“What the hell is going on, Chris?” Madison asks, her voice a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

I can see the dread etched on her features; she knows all too well that Chris always has something up his sleeve.

“Seriously? Did you really have to wake everyone in the house for this?” Matt responds, his irritation evident as he rakes a hand through his morning hair.

I glance at Nick. He’s sitting upright, his eyes closed, a blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. The sight is so funny that I can’t help but stifle a quiet giggle, watching as his eyes open and close slowly.

While the rest of the group looks pissed, I can’t help but feel intrigued. This is the first time I’ve ever been part of a friend group like this, vibrant and full of life. When it was just Madison and I, our time was exclusively spent together, we didn't have any other friends. Her departures always left a lingering void that was hard to bear. During high school, my lunches were often spent alone. After graduating, my life has revolved around work.

But now, having these people around me feels like a healing balm, mending the loneliness.

“Oh, stop whining! Put your jumping pants on, and let's go!” Chris yells, his bright smile radiating joy.

His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can’t help but grin at his energy.

“Go where?!” Nick, Matt, and Madison question in unison.

Without missing a beat, Chris leaps down the staircase, laughter bubbling up like a fountain behind him.

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We all tumble into the car, set off to discover the mystery destination Chris has chosen for us today.

Outside, the world glows under the September sun, a warmth that suggests summer isn’t quite finished yet. The brilliant blue sky stretches overhead, and the sun spills through the windows, bathing us in its golden light.

I’m still adjusting to the sight of palm trees lining the streets—it’s such a stark contrast to what I’ve known, a reminder of how much my life has changed.

With the sunroof wide open, the fresh breeze whips through the car, playfully tugging at our hair.

The song, “Wonderwall” by Oasis burst from the speakers, the familiar sound washes over us like a warm wave, instantly uplifting.

I take a moment to look around at everyone, feeling nothing but joy as I see them dancing in their seats, singing their hearts out, completely lost in the moment.

“Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you,” echoes off the car's walls, blending with Chris’s attempt at singing.

Matt, in the passenger seat, breaks from the music to face me, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

He forms a fist, mimicking a microphone, eyes wide with the thrill of the performance, as if he’s preparing to serenade an audience.

His energy draws me in.

“By now, you should’ve somehow realized what you gotta do.” His face twists comically, a mixture of enthusiasm and passion as he loses himself in the lyrics.

With an exaggerated gesture, he points directly at me, a clear invitation to take the next lyric. Taking a deep breath, I form my hand into a fist, trying to channel the energy radiating from everyone in the car.

Matt’s eyes are locked on me, waiting for my turn.

“I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do, about you now.” I give it my all, attempting to match the energy surrounding me.

Thank goodness the music blares loud enough that my actual singing voice gets lost in the chaos—let’s leave the real vocal talent to Madison.

As we continue our concert, the car walls are filled with laughter, until Chris reaches over to turn the volume down, as we pull into the bustling parking lot of Sky Park.

“You brought us to an indoor trampoline park?” Nick questions, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“No! It’s not just a trampoline park; it also has an obstacle course!” Chris fires back with a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Wait, I’m actually excited,” Matt announces.

Madison turns towards me, “Okay, let’s go!” she declares, unbuckling her seatbelt with determination, her infectious energy convincing me that this day is about to get even better.

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We all walk inside the indoor jump park to see the space filled with trampolines, soft foam pits, and a challenging obstacle course just off to the left.

As everyone gets their grippy socks, I can feel the child in me bubbling at the surface. We make our way toward the obstacle course.

“Alright, everyone,” Matt announces, his hands rubbing together.

“Are you ready to get smoked?” There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“I’ve been training my whole life for this moment,” he says dramatically, casting a gaze over the course as if plotting every move he’ll make.

Madison bursts into laughter at his seriousness. “What, training how to fold clothes doesn't count, Matt?”

Chris lets out a hearty laugh, “If there’s a clothes-hanging section, Matt’s definitely got that covered!”

We erupt into fits of laughter, Matt joining in despite the mockery.

“Okay, let’s make this more interesting,” I chime in, a competitive glint in my eyes.

“Three rounds of two people each! The winners of their rounds will face off individually for the fastest time, while the loser treats everyone to slushies.”

I can’t help but smirk, confident that I can leave them all in the dust.

“Game on!” Nick responds, cracking his knuckles.

“I’ve been doing push-ups all week for this.” He flexes dramatically, but clearly, he’s all talk.

“One push-up a day doesn’t really count, Nick,” Chris replies, shaking his head.

Rolling his eyes, Nick shoots back, “One quality push-up, thank you very much.”

Laughter fills the air again.

Matt takes charge of picking teams. It’s going to be me versus Matt. Nick pairs up with Madison, while Chris is set to race against Ethan.

The first round begins with Nick and Madison.

Matt adopts a mock announcer's voice, deepening it theatrically, “Nick versus Madison! Who will win in this battle to the death? Nick is fueled by nothing but one push-up and an entire bag of gummy bears, while Madison is conditioned to sing and dance on stage for hours. It’s looking grim for our underdog, folks!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Nick yells back.

As the timer starts, they’re off.

Within a mere five seconds, Nick tumbles headfirst into the foam pit, disappearing beneath a mountain.

“I meant to do that!” he yells, laughter echoing back from the foam.

Madison wins the round.

Next is Chris and Ethan.

Ethan falls from the monkey bars, losing his grip and disqualifying himself.

Now it’s my turn against Matt.

The moment the timer starts, I bolt forward. I dash past the foam pit, with Matt heavy-breathing hard on my heels.

Desperate to slow me down, Matt grabs handfuls of foam cubes and hurls them at me.

“Stop cheating!” I shout.

“It’s called being creative with what you have!” he laughs, still launching debris in my direction while keeping pace.

I make it past the monkey bars, heart pounding in my chest at what comes next—a rope I need to grab onto it and hope I don’t fall.

Gaining self-assurance, I muster the courage to jump and miraculously grab onto the rope, swinging across and landing safely on the other side.

No one has made it this far yet.

A towering wall looms ahead. I sprint toward it, the sound of Matt’s footsteps echoing behind me. My feet catch on the wall as I leap upward, gripping its edge.

My heart races, and in that instant, I notice Matt’s hand reaching for the edge next to me, panting hard as he tries to find his footing.

I pull myself up and over the ledge.

I look down at Matt still wrestling with the wall. Reaching out, I offer my hand, helping him up so he sits beside me, both of us breathless and exhilarated, our backs resting against the wall behind us.

“How are you so good at that?” he gasps, still catching his breath, admiration flickering in his eyes.

With a playful smirk and a casual shrug, I reply without words, exuding the confidence that I’m just as surprised as he is.

The sound of footsteps echoes as the others come sprinting toward us, their cheers amplifying the victory.

��And Millie takes the win! If only Matt would have folded clothes a little faster!” Chris chimes in, bringing out his mock-announcer voice once again.

“Alright! Time for the final round!” Madison’s voice cuts through the laughter, rallying us for whatever comes next.

The three winners prepare to race the course individually for the fastest time.

I’m exhausted so I don’t give my full effort a second time.

Chris ultimately takes home the title.

“Looks like Nick is the loser with the fastest fall in history!” Chris shouts, the laughter contagious.

“Matt should get time taken away for cheating!” Nick protests, defending himself.

“Style points,” Matt shrugs nonchalantly.

“Whatever, slushies on me. But next time, we’re doing a speed-eating competition, and I’ll smoke all of you,” Nick calls out confidently.

“Oh, I bet you will,” Matt replies, laughter edging his voice. As I sit among the joyous chaos, watching everyone bicker and tease each other, a wave of happiness washes over me. In that moment, surrounded by friends who feel like family, I realize how I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. The love I feel for each of them is overwhelming. If I had to endure my past just to feel this again, I would do it all over.

Tag list:

@lezleeferguson-120 @courta13 @sturn-ath3na @sturniolo-szn2

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #fanfic #madison beer #sturniolo triplets #Spotify

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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I should just be a Nick girl at this point.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #tiktok

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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I wish I could go back. Seeing this in person was life changing. Slowly exposing my TikTok part 2 LMAO

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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I need this man more than I need anything else in life😫

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #tiktok

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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Taglist

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Comment on this post to be added to my taglist!!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #fanfic #madison beer #sturniolo triplets

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matthewsbrowserhistory · 2 months ago

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something bad | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

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

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

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

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you didn’t close the gap.

You were leaving it up to him.

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

Instead, you met him halfway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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