prissyhs

[prissyhs]

This was like a religious experience

Learning pleasure 🌸˚˖⋆ M.Sturniolo

“I know I might be awkward at first, and I know it might not feel good. But I want to. I want to learn. I want to make you feel good the way you always do for me.”

⟢ NSFW AHEAD!!! smut, beard matt, oral sex (f reciving), matt being slightly inexperienced...kinda. brief handjobs, matt the munch, camgirl!reader. if i missed anything, let me know.this fic can be read alone or it could be read as an additional part to my series cyber sex.

This was in fact demanded by someone...they held me at gunpoint and threatened to ruin me....

divider cred @enchanthings

The end of the school year had pulled them in opposite directions — stress, finals, crammed notes, and rescheduled streams swallowing up every free moment. Life had been chaos, even with just one floor of distance between their apartments. They hadn’t even had time to see each other.

But now that the pressure had eased, finals were done, and the air had softened, they could finally breathe again — and feel again. Touch, talk, kiss. All the things they’d been missing.

Matt barely waited a beat after knocking before the door creaked open. And there she was.

Exactly as he’d imagined her a hundred times over — except better.

Her eyes widened when they met his. Then they dipped, landing squarely on the full-grown beard he hadn’t shaved during the chaos.

She’d seen him with scruff before, light and patchy, the kind he usually shaved off after a couple of days. But this?

This was different.

He looked...older. A little rougher. More lived-in.

Not unkempt — just changed.

Grown.

Before he could get a word out, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him inside. The door slammed shut behind them, echoing through the apartment like a gunshot.

He barely had time to catch his breath before she was pushing him backward, guiding him toward the couch with quick, purposeful steps. He landed with a grunt, and she climbed into his lap like she belonged there — because she did.

Her mouth was on his before he could speak — fierce, hungry, unapologetic. She kissed like she meant it, like she’d been waiting days to taste him again.

A soft laugh rumbled from his chest, his hands sliding instinctively to her waist.

“Hello to you too—”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi. Hello,” she muttered, already pulling him back in. “Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

She leaned in again, lips brushing his, but he stopped her, brows pinching gently.

“Hey... slow down. I’m not going anywhere.” His tone was light, curious. “What’s gotten into you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s gotten into me? Matt, I haven’t seen you in a week, and you show up with a full-grown beard while I’m ovulating.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Not to sound crude, but I’m about to suck the soul out of you, and then fuck you until we’re both crying.”

He burst into laughter, leaning his forehead against hers, breath catching.

“The beard has you this worked up?” he teased, running his fingers along his jawline, scratching lazily at the coarse hair.

Her eyes tracked the movement like they were tethered to it — dark, fascinated, hungry. She didn’t even try to hide it.

His grin faded just slightly. Not gone, but softened — touched with something nervous, almost shy.

“Let’s just sit for a minute,” he said gently. “We hav—”

“You’re stalling.”

Her voice was sharp but knowing, cutting through the moment. “Why are you stalling?”

His hands dropped to her thighs, thumbs tracing slow circles — a nervous habit dressed up as affection.

“I was just thinking…” he murmured. “Maybe we could try something different tonight.”

She tilted her head, curiosity blooming in the silence. “Like what?”

His eyes flicked to hers, then dropped. A flush colored his cheeks as he stared at her legs instead of her face.

“Maybe… I could eat you out.”

A beat of silence followed. Not tense — just startled.

“You want to eat me out?” she repeated, blinking.

Matt nodded slowly, eyes unsure but sincere. She hesitated. She wanted him to — god, did she want him to — but then reality crept in.

He’d never done it before. What if it didn’t feel good?

“Matt… I don’t know. You know I don’t care about you being inexper—”

“Just let me try,” he interrupted, eyes wide, voice tinged with pleading. “I know I might be awkward at first, and I know it might not feel good. But I want to. I want to learn. I want to make you feel good the way you always do for me.”

That look — all soft edges and open hope — cracked her hesitation clean in two.

So now, here they were.

Her thighs cradled Matt’s head as he lay between them, eyes blown wide, breath shallow. He kissed the inside of her thigh, then bit down gently, pulling a sharp shiver from her.

She helped him out of her shorts, tossing them carelessly across the room. He gripped her thighs firmly, spreading her open, and paused.

She was already wet — for him. Just the sight of him, the weight of him, had her aching.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She blinked down at him, brow raised. “Close my eyes? Matt—”

“Just do it.”

She sighed but obliged, letting him take the lead.

His breath ghosted over her center, the tip of his nose brushing the soft skin before he leaned in and—

Her breath caught sharply as he dragged a slow, deliberate stripe up her folds.

And then he did it again.

And again.

And again — so sure of his actions.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t shy away. He dove in like he meant it — tongue eager, lips wrapping around her clit with a soft, wet suction that made her moan so loud it startled even her.

She gasped, fingers curling into the sheets, her legs trembling as he kept going — learning her, listening to her, loving her with every lick.

She gasped again, louder this time, her back arching instinctively as his mouth moved with growing confidence. Whatever nervous energy he’d carried into this — it was clearly a facade. He was focused, devoted.

He was hungry.

Matt groaned against her, the sound low and needy, like he was tasting something he didn’t know he’d been craving. His tongue flattened, then curled, lapping through her folds before flicking up to her clit in short, practiced strokes.

Her hands shot to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she tried to steady herself. “Fuck, Matt—”

He hummed against her, and the vibration shot through her like a live wire.

Every pass of his tongue had her thighs twitching, tightening around his head — but he just gripped her harder, pulling her open like he needed more access, more room to work.

He licked again — deeper now, more pressure — before sucking her clit into his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from her throat. She clutched him tighter, her hips rolling without permission, chasing the rhythm he was giving her.

He was messy. He was wet. His beard was slick with her arousal, jaw working in slow, sinful circles as he mouthed at her pussy like it was his fucking job.

And god — he loved it.

Every moan she gave him, every sharp gasp or tremble of her legs only fueled him more. He adjusted his grip, thumbs pressing into the crease of her thighs, spreading her even wider. His nose brushed her just above where his tongue was working, adding the tiniest bit of pressure in all the right places.

Her head dropped back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut, mouth slack. Her chest heaved, nipples hard under the thin fabric of her shirt, body completely overwhelmed.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed. “Matt—oh my god, right there—don’t stop—”

He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

Not when she tasted so good.

He slipped one hand away from her thigh, slowly dragging two fingers down, letting them tease her entrance. He circled once — twice — before sliding them inside with an ease that had her gasping his name like it was holy.

“Matt—fuck, yes—just like that—”

Her walls clenched around his fingers as he pumped them slow and deep, tongue still working her clit in wet, hungry circles. His beard scratched at her sensitive skin, adding just enough burn to make the pleasure sting.

“Fucking—God, I’m gonna—” she panted, hips jerking uncontrollably.

He didn’t say anything — didn’t need to. His eyes flicked up once, just to see her face twist in pleasure, her bottom lip trembling, fingers tightening in his hair.

And then she came.

Hard.

Her thighs squeezed around his head as she cried out, a loud, raw sound that echoed off the bedroom walls, mixing in with the sound of her juices splashing against the bed. Her body convulsed, chest heaving as her orgasm tore through her, legs shaking and toes curling and—

Matt didn’t stop.

He kept going, drawing it out, lapping up everything she gave him, licking through the aftershocks like he was addicted.

When she finally came down, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts, he slowed. Gently. Reverently. Pressing one last soft kiss to her swollen clit before pulling back.

Matt’s mouth glistened, beard damp, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile — or like he'd just lived through something sacred.

She lay there breathless, legs still parted, trembling in the aftermath. Her hand reached down, brushing his cheek, her thumb dragging gently over the soaked edge of his beard.

He looked up at her — lips swollen, pupils blown, waiting.

She swallowed, still reeling, and let out a soft laugh — part disbelief, part dazed praise. “You’re the best eater I’ve experienced,” she whispered.

Matt froze, the words hitting him harder than they probably should have. His brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering behind the confidence he wore so well a minute ago.

“No, seriously,” she said, voice low and wrecked. “That wasn’t just good, Matt. That was... fuck. That was everything.”

His lips parted, like he wanted to say something — maybe joke, maybe brush it off — but he didn’t. Not this time. He just let the praise soak in, slow and warm, a flush rising high on his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that just because it’s my first time—”

“I’m not,” she cut in, firm. “You earned that.”

A pause.

Then, softly, she reached for him, her fingers curling around the collar of his shirt as she guided him up, up, until his body hovered over hers — all heat and tension and need.

He braced himself above her, arms shaking slightly from everything they’d just shared. Her thighs were still parted around his hips, the heat between them still pulsing in the silence.

She smiled, slow and soft, like she was letting him see every bit of affection she carried.

“You did so well for me,” she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

Matt let out a soft, broken sound — part whimper, part moan — as her hand slipped down between their bodies, pressing against the hard, aching bulge straining in his jeans.

“You liked hearing that, didn’t you?” She murmured, thumb brushing the thick outline of him through his pants. He whimpered again, burying his face in the crook of her neck as his hips rolled helplessly into her touch.

“I-I can’t… god, I need—”

“I know,” she whispered, slipping her hand beneath the waistband of his jeans. “I’ve got you.”

Her fingers wrapped around him — hot, hard, and twitching in her palm. She stroked him once, slow and steady, feeling him throb against her skin.

“You’re already leaking,” she whispered, her thumb swiping over his tip. “That turned you on that much?”

“I couldn’t fucking help it,” he breathed. “You taste so fucking good…like heaven. I think I blacked out for a second. I—God-" His breath shuddered. His hands clutched the sheets beside her head, desperate to ground himself.

She kissed the side of his neck, soft and lingering. “I want to make you fall apart now,” she said, voice thick with promise.

“Please…” he breathed, already undone.

[prissyhs]

i’m creaming

ᥫ᭡You know you wanna [Chratt] ᥫ᭡

You’re standing in Matt’s kitchen, barefoot on the cool tile, one of his t-shirts hanging just low enough to cover your thighs.

You’re making eggs in one pan, bacon in another. Hair messy, music playing low, the house still quiet in that hazy late-morning calm.

Matt’s sitting at the table behind you, scrolling on his phone. Chris is leaning against the counter near the fridge, sipping coffee and half-watching you move around the kitchen. You can feel the eyes on you.

Not Matt’s. His are always on you, that’s nothing new.

But Chris’s? That’s different.

You catch him watching when you bend over to grab a plate. He flicks his gaze away too fast, pretends like he wasn’t, but he absolutely was. You don’t say anything, but your stomach flips a little.

You turn to grab the pepper and catch Matt looking up from his phone. Not at you. At Chris.

Something unreadable passes over Matt’s face. Then he leans back in his chair slowly, arms crossing over his chest.

“Yo,” he says casually, but his voice cuts through the quiet like a knife. “You checking her out?”

Chris chokes slightly on his coffee. “What?”

Matt lifts a brow. “You heard me.”

“Uh I what? Of course not” Chris laughs, awkward. “No. I was just… she’s cooking. I was looking at the food.”

Matt tilts his head. “Sure you were.”

You freeze mid-stir, spatula hovering in the eggs. “Matt,” you say quietly, giving him a warning look over your shoulder. But he doesn’t stop.

“I mean,” Matt goes on, cool as hell, “I get it. She looks good in my shirt. Doesn’t she?”

Chris rubs the back of his neck, not sure whether to laugh or leave. “Bro.”

“What? You’re acting like I’m mad.” Matt stands up and walks over, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m not.”

You lean back against him instinctively, but your heart is racing now. “You’re being weird.”

“No I’m not,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m being honest.”

His hands slip under the hem of his shirt on your body, fingers grazing the skin just above your thighs. “He looked. I noticed. I’m not mad. He’s my brother. You’re hot. Not exactly shocking.”

Chris shifts uncomfortably, pretending to look at the fridge magnets. “Okay. You’re trying to mess with me.”

Matt grins against your neck. “Nah, I just think it’s funny that you’re acting like you weren’t thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t—” Chris starts.

Matt interrupts. “It’s okay, man. I’d look too. If I were you.”

You twist in his arms, turning halfway toward him. “Matt, seriously, what are you doing right now?”

His hand stays low on your hip. Possessive. Like he’s reminding both you and Chris that you’re his, even if he’s being way too casual about it. That’s the thing about Matt, his tone stays light, but his eyes are locked in, dark and focused. He’s watching every reaction.

You glance at Chris again. He’s trying so hard not to look at your legs. Or your thighs. Or the way Matt’s fingers are slipping just slightly beneath the hem.

And something in you shifts. Not exactly permission. But… curiosity.

Matt sees it. Of course he does.

You open your mouth to say something, to ask what the hell this is turning into, but Matt cuts you off with a whisper against your jaw.

“You ever wonder?” he murmurs. “If someone else wanted you? You swallow.

Chris clears his throat again, clearly on edge. “Okay, I’m gonna go—”

“You’re not gonna go,” Matt says, still soft but firm. “You’re gonna stay. Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

Chris looks at you. Just for a second. Just long enough to make your skin burn.

You should stop this. You know you should.

But Matt’s hands are still on you, and there’s something electric crawling up your spine now. Something wrong but fascinating. He’s making you feel this, making him feel this.

Matt kisses just under your ear. “You want me to stop?” You don’t answer. Because you’re not sure you do.

The sizzle of the pan, the music humming low from the speaker, the mid-morning sun creeping in through the kitchen window, all of it fades. Because Matt’s behind you now, hands slipping lower beneath the hem of his t-shirt, slow like he’s proving a point.

You glance at Chris again.

He hasn’t moved. Not toward the door. Not toward you. His knuckles are white around the edge of the counter.

Matt’s lips ghost along your jaw, soft and unhurried, like he’s done it a thousand times. Like this is any normal morning. But it’s not. His voice is smooth, almost amused.

“You like this?” he murmurs, just for you. “The way he looks at you?”

You suck in a breath. “Matt…”

He lifts the back of the shirt just slightly, dragging the hem up your thighs, exposing more skin than before.

Chris turns away for a second, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, man, this is—”

“What?” Matt asks, his tone still calm. “You can’t handle it?”

He trails his mouth down your neck, biting lightly at your collarbone while holding eye contact with Chris over your shoulder.

“She looks good, doesn’t she?” he says, lifting the shirt a little higher so your lower back and the curve of your hips are bare now. “You wanna touch her?”

You grip the counter tighter, thighs pressing together. This is insane. This is beyond insane. But Matt’s hand is steady on your skin, and his voice is low and steady and dark.

Chris swallows hard. “You’re being serious?”

Matt hums. “Why wouldn’t I be? You clearly want to. I don’t mind.”

He kisses your shoulder, then nips at your jaw again, speaking into your skin.

“C’mon,” he says to Chris. “Touch her.”

Silence. You don’t move. You don’t breathe.

Then, slowly,so slowly you feel Chris’s hand. Just fingertips at first, brushing the outside of your thigh like he’s not sure he’s really doing it. Your heart is hammering. You can’t look at either of them.

Matt shifts behind you, mouth curving into a smirk. “Don’t be shy now. She likes it soft. Right there… yeah.”

Chris’s fingers glide upward, hesitant but steady, tracing the outside of your thigh, then your hip. Up your side. Over your ribs.

Matt watches it all.

He lifts your shirt just enough so Chris’s hand slides under it, until his knuckles brush the bare skin of your stomach. You shiver.

Chris’s palm flattens lightly over your skin. He’s not groping. He’s exploring. Barely touching, but enough to make your knees wobble. And then, he brushes his fingertips up, trailing toward your chest.

Matt’s voice is lower now. Rougher. “Up. All the way.” Chris brings his hand up until his fingers graze your lips.

You part them without thinking, breath shaking, eyes still fixed on the counter.

Matt presses a kiss under your ear again, watching you fall apart under someone else’s touch.Then he says it.“Go ahead,” Matt whispers. “Kiss her. You know you wanna.”

You don’t move, don’t breathe. You just look at Chris and the look in his eyes is something you’ve never seen before. Hesitation tangled with hunger. Like he’s balancing on the edge of a cliff, and Matt just gave him permission to fall.

Matt’s hands haven’t left your body. One on your hip, holding you steady, the other still lifting the hem of his shirt to expose you. His mouth is against your neck again.

Chris’s thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, slow and tentative. Testing. Then his hand drops just slightly, cradling the side of your jaw. And his face inches closer.

Matt doesn’t stop him. He watches.

You feel Chris’s breath first, warm, shallow, then his mouth barely touches yours. A ghost of a kiss. Gentle. Too gentle. Like he’s waiting for someone to pull him back.

No one does. Matt’s hand slips lower, down your front, fingers brushing just beneath your navel. “You can do better than that.”

Chris pauses. His eyes flick to Matt, unsure.

“Don’t make me say it twice,” Matt says, voice darker now. “Kiss her.” So he does.

This time fully, mouth pressing into yours with more pressure, more heat. One hand cupping your cheek, the other sliding down to your waist. It’s soft at first, unsure, but when you sigh against his lips, something changes. His fingers dig into your skin. The kiss deepens. Matt’s still behind you, his breath hot on your neck, his body firm against your back. He’s not kissing you now. He’s watching you be kissed. His hand slides up your stomach, slow and deliberate, palm flattening between your breasts like he’s reminding you, you’re still his.

The kiss breaks for air, but Chris stays close, lips brushing yours.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Matt…”

“I told you,” Matt says calmly, like his heart isn’t slamming in his chest. “I’m not mad.”

His hand moves again, teasing, exploring, and his mouth finds the back of your neck. You tremble in between them, legs unsteady, caught in a place that feels wrong and dizzying and impossibly good.

The moment stretches—heavy, breathless—Chris’s lips still brushing yours, his hand gripping your waist like he’s afraid to go any further unless Matt says the word again.

But Matt doesn’t say anything at first. He just shifts behind you, pressing himself tighter against your back. His palm slides up your torso under the shirt, stopping between your breasts again like he’s claiming space. Chris’s hand is still at your jaw, thumb stroking lightly across your cheekbone, his eyes locked on your mouth.

You can feel your own heartbeat in everywhere now.

Then Matt moves. One hand still gripping your hip, the other slowly trails down your stomach again, fingertips ghosting lower and lower. His voice is low, dangerously soft in your ear.

“You want me to touch you while he watches?”

You can’t speak. Your lips part like you might try, but all that comes out is a soft gasp as his fingers slide past your waistband and settle between your thighs.

Chris swears under his breath. His eyes fall to your body. “Jesus.” Matt just smirks.

“Look at her,” he murmurs, fingers beginning to move, slow and deliberate. “Already so wet.”

You nearly buckle, gripping the edge of the counter, head tipping back against Matt’s shoulder. He curls his fingers slightly and your whole body reacts, hips twitching, mouth falling open, a quiet sound escaping your throat. Chris leans in again, kissing you slower this time. A little deeper. One of his hands trails up, brushing the side of your breast, testing the waters. When you don’t stop him, he cups it fully, thumbing over your nipple through the shirt, and your back arches between them.

Matt hums in approval, mouth still against your jaw.

“Yeah, she likes that. Don’t you sweetheart?” You moan as a response.

Chris’s hand dips beneath the shirt now, skin to skin, palming your breast more firmly while still kissing you, your lips, your jaw, down to your collarbone. Every kiss more confident now, more desperate.

Matt’s fingers speed up slightly inside you, every movement precise, focused like he knows exactly how far he can take you without letting you fall. Chris starts to shift his other hand lower, like he’s about to follow Matt’s lead but Matt’s voice sharpens instantly.

“Not there.” Matt says and Chris freezes.

Matt’s fingers don’t stop. “You can touch her anywhere else. But this—” he curls his fingers deliberately and rubs your clot, you gasp again— “this is mine.”

Chris nods quickly, breath catching.

Matt relaxes again, kissing your shoulder with something that feels like praise. “Good.” You whimper softly from the overstimulation, the possessiveness, the way Chris’s mouth is back on yours while Matt ruins you from behind. The contradiction of it all. How wrong it is. How fucking good it feels.

Chris keeps kissing you, his thumb flicking over your nipple, his other hand buried in your hair now, holding you there. Matt’s fingers don’t slow down. If anything, he curls them deeper, dragging them exactly where you need, letting you get closer and closer without mercy.Your legs shake.

Matt growls low in your ear, “You gonna come while he watches?”

You can barely breathe. “Yes—fuck—yes—”

He chuckles, dark and sweet. “Good girl.”

And then everything tips as You fall apart between them.

Chris holding your face, kissing you but you struggle to kiss back while Matt’s fingers work you through it every twitch, every moan, every second of it completely, shamelessly exposed. When it finally fades and your knees nearly give out, Matt wraps both arms around your waist, catching you against his chest. Chris steps back just slightly, breathing hard, watching you with something between shock and awe.

Matt presses one last kiss to your neck, smug as hell. “Told you she was something else.” He says licking his lips

A/N: This has been on my drafts since forever! I hope you like it … And just remember this is fanfiction not fantruth so ofc this wouldn’t happen irl , don’t come for me ✨

©girliemattitude

[prissyhs]

just posted | c.s

— chris sturniolo x fem! reader

— warnings: smut, head (m! receiving), dom-ish Chris, filming/photography kink, exhibitionistic teasing, filthy talk, possessiveness, reader’s mouth full the whole damn time, implied creampie, minor social media scandal energy, smut with zero plot and zero shame.

in which!... chris posts a thrist trap mid-blowjob

requested by anon! | dividers by @enchanthings

It’s all because of the damn photo.

The one he took mid-moan, eyes heavy, jaw slack, lips parted like he just saw God. You saw it flash for half a second—his front camera catching the reflection of your head in his lap before it angled up. And you didn’t stop, of course not. Not when he looked that fucked-out and he hadn’t even come yet.

You just moaned around him, spit dribbling down your chin as you worked your mouth over him, letting him feel the shape of your tongue and the tight pull of your throat, watching the way his knuckles whitened around the steering wheel.

It started with a drive. Just a quick trip for coffee.

But Chris had been teasing you the whole time, palm resting a little too high on your thigh, that smug smirk tugging at his mouth every time you shifted in your seat. And when he parked, leaned back, and said, “Get over here, pretty girl,” in that low gravel voice?

Yeah. You obeyed.

Now your knees are digging into the floor mat and he’s unraveling in the driver’s seat.

“Holy fuck—” he chokes out, voice cracking as your hand wraps around the base of his cock and strokes in time with your mouth. “You’re too good at this, y’know that?”

Your response is a soft whimper, muffled around the weight of him. He twitches on your tongue.

Then comes the click.

You hear it again—definite. Deliberate.

You pull back slightly, just enough to murmur against the flushed head of his cock. “Did you just take another—”

“Mmhmm,” he grunts, lifting his phone. “Couldn’t help myself. Look at you.”

The screen flashes. Your blurry outline reflected in the glass, mouth open, lips swollen, eyes glassy. You watch him swipe through the shots—most of them just of his face, but that doesn’t make it less obscene.

You groan, wrapping your lips around him again. Chris’s breath catches.

He tilts the phone again. “This one’s perfect.”

You hum in question, sucking a little harder, and his hips jerk.

“You can’t even see anything,” he pants. “Just me—lookin’ like I’m in heaven. Bet they’ll all wonder what got me like this.”

He taps Post to story. You feel it go live—like a tremor in the air.

“You didn’t.” Your mouth leaves him with a soft pop, lips shiny with spit, breath hot and ragged.

“Oh, I fuckin’ did,” he groans. “Captioned it ‘Friday feels’ or some shit. Wanna see how many swipe-ups I get.”

You blink up at him. “You’re actually insane.”

Chris just grins, thumb swiping across your bottom lip. “Insane for you.”

And before you can sass him, he shifts—tilts your face up with one hand and pushes your head gently back down with the other.

“Now be good and finish what you started.”

You moan, sinking down again.

He’s so deep in your throat your eyes water, but that only makes him buck his hips, breath shuddering. His hands go to your hair, gentle but tight, guiding you faster, filthier, with purpose.

“Shit—shit—I’m not gonna last, baby,” he gasps, head thunking back against the seat. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, all messy and mine—”

You moan around him, and he loses it.

“Fuck, yes—don’t stop—right there, pretty girl, c’mon—”

You hollow your cheeks, tongue flicking right under the head the way you know drives him crazy, and he groans deep from his chest. His thighs tense.

“Oh my God, that’s it, I’m—baby, I’m gonna—”

He spills down your throat with a hoarse, broken moan, holding your head still as he trembles beneath your touch. You don’t stop until his whole body jerks, his hand flying to the door like he needs to steady himself.

You pull back slowly, gasping for air, lips pink and wet, and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Chris looks completely fucked out. Shirt slightly askew. Hat backwards. Eyes barely open. His phone buzzes in the cupholder with a fresh wave of reactions to the story.

“Bet they all wish they were you,” he murmurs, tugging you up by the collar and kissing you like he’s starved. “Too bad they don’t know you’re the one who broke me today.”

You smirk, breathless. “I should start charging for that head.”

He chuckles darkly, hands sliding to your waist. “I’d tip like a fuckin’ billionaire.”

Another buzz, Chris swipes his phone again. “Wanna do round two but make it a live photo?”

Your jaw drops. “Chris.”

“I’m kidding.” (…You’re not sure he is.)

not the best smut i've written but i hope you enjoyed it :)

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[prissyhs]

genuinely in tears i need him so bad

[prissyhs]

this, to me, is basically like hearing how mona lisa was painted by the way

Wait you’re writing something,somehow,someday??? Anyways if you are even just starting to write the first paragraph take all the time you need especially since your fics of them always seem so thought out and perfect so take your time I’m super excited for it tho. You’re literally the best writer on tumblr

~🍃

thank you so much for the compliment !! i've written a little for 'something, somehow, someday' before but i had lost the motivation for it and was stuck on 4k-5k words for ages. but surprisingly, my inspiration kicked in last night and i'm currently at 9k !! so i may be inactive, or at least lingering around here and there answering asks, while i try and stick with this motivation cos its been so fun.

i'm 100% taking my time with this as the first part is basically chris' whole backstory to how he became the person he is and i need that to be perfect.

my plan (not sure if i've spoken abt this before) is that i'm going through his timeline. so far, i've completed: the scene when he was born, the scene when he was four-years-old, the scene when he was six-years-old, the scene when he was ten-years-old, the scene when he was fourteen-years-old, and i'm currently writing the scenes when he was sixteen-years-old.

i'm really (and finally) fucking happy with how everything is going so far !!

[prissyhs]

Breaking The Male Code: After Steubenville, A Call To Action

 (Left to Right): Peter Buffett, Jimmie Briggs, Joe Ehrmann, Tony Porter,  Dave Zirin and Moderator Eve Ensler.

[prissyhs]

I’m shaking like actually

p u s s y t r a i n i n g c . s

i n w h i c h . . . chris comes home frustrated, and the only thing on his mind is fucking the anger away.

w a r n i n g s . . . smut, p in v, fem receiving oral, male receiving oral, pressuring, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, gagging, crying, creampie, aftercare, pussy spanking, rough language and handling, derogatory language (slut, whore, etc.)

it was unusual for chris to be annoyed with you, let alone be annoyed by your sounds. it was long day. it was clear in the sharp set of his jaw, the stubble decorating his cheekbones, and mostly the way his fingers twitched. oh, not to mention he nearly slammed the apartment door off its hinges. he was itching to take his anger out on something, and you sitting there all pretty drew in his attention.

it made your stomach turn—not with fear, but with a kind of electricity. because even though chris was quiet when he was angry, there was a weight to it. a pressure. like the air shifted. like your body instinctively braced, not because you thought he’d hurt you, but because you knew exactly what he needed.

he didn’t say hi when he walked in. didn’t kiss you like he usually did. just kicked his shoes off with a grunt and tossed his keys onto the counter so hard they skidded. his chest was rising fast. he paced once, twice, before his eyes cut to you on the couch like you were the one thing in the room still breathing too calmly.

you blinked up at him, lips parted, legs tucked underneath you, the blanket slipping off your shoulder.

“gonna look at m’like that?” his voice was low. rough. dangerous in a way that made heat pool in your stomach.

you swallowed. “like what?”

his jaw ticked. “like you want me to fuck y’dumb.”

your breath caught.

then—like a switch—he was walking toward you, slow but certain. a shadow of something wild in his eyes.

you didn’t move. couldn’t. didn’t want to.

“long fuckin’ day,” he muttered, stopping just in front of you. his hand slid into your hair, gentle for half a second before gripping tighter. “and you’re sittin’ here making those little sounds like you don’t know what that does to me.”

your thighs clenched. “i didn’t mean—”

“yeah, you did,” he snapped. but not angry with you. angry at everything else. and needing you to fix it.

he pushed the blanket off you fully, let his eyes drag over your bare legs, the tank top you wore without a bra, the softness of your skin. he exhaled like it hurt to hold back.

“you just gonna sit there,” he whispered, “or you gonna help me feel better?”

you bit your lip, heart pounding. “what do you want me to do?”

his answer was immediate. raw.

“get on y’knees.”

and you did—slowly, letting him see the way you obeyed, the way you ached to be good for him. he watched you, his hands fisting at his sides, chest heaving. his hoodie fell to the floor. the zipper hit the tile. his belt followed.

he stepped closer. tilted your chin up with two fingers. “open your mouth,” he breathed.

he paused his movements, brushing his thumb against your lips, which instinctively wrapped around it. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you stayed still, let him press his thumb deeper until it brushed the back of your throat, until tears pricked in your lashes and your thighs rubbed together because the helplessness—the need—was already simmering through you.

then, finally, he undid his jeans.

you heard the clink of the buckle, the sharp hiss of fabric dragged down fast. his cock was already hard, flushed at the tip, and when he wrapped one hand around the base and stroked, just once, you could see the tension ripple down his forearm like he was barely holding it together.

“gonna let me use your mouth, baby?” he rasped, voice darker now. “i don’t even wanna think about today.”

you nodded, breath shaky, lips parting again.

he didn’t ask again. didn’t hesitate.

the first thrust was shallow—just the head, just enough to feel your lips wrap tight around him, to hear the wet click of spit when he pulled back. but the second? deeper. his hand cradled the back of your head and he fed it to you inch by inch, slow and deliberate. punishing in its control.

“that’s it,” he grunted, watching your eyes. “take it. open up for me.”

you hollowed your cheeks, let him slide deeper, let your tongue flatten underneath. he groaned, low and guttural, head tipping back for a split second before he looked down again, eyes locked on yours.

your hands gripped his thighs for balance, fingers digging into the denim around his knees. spit was already beginning to drip down your chin, and he fucking loved it—his hips rolled forward, just once, deeper than before, until you gagged around him.

“fuck, baby—just like that. let me use you.”

he didn’t stop.

he fucked your mouth like he needed it. like it was therapy. rough, rhythmic thrusts that made your eyes tear up and your core ache with every single pass of his cock over your tongue. you could hear yourself—wet, obscene sounds filling the quiet apartment along with his ragged breath and the muttered curses he kept spitting through clenched teeth.

“such a pretty little mouth. made to suck cock, huh?” he groaned.

you whimpered around him—both from the intensity and the way your thighs were soaked now, squirming for relief. and he noticed.

he pulled back suddenly, letting his cock slide free with a thick, wet sound. a string of spit stayed connected between you, and he wiped it away with his thumb, smearing it across your bottom lip like it was something holy.

you were gasping, flushed, mouth swollen. and still so fucking needy.

“get on the couch,” he said. “spread your legs. i’m not done with you.”

you scrambled back onto the couch, heart racing, legs shaking a little as you reclined against the cushions. chris’s eyes never left you—dark and glassy, like he was barely hanging on.

you pulled your tank top off first. no bra. his gaze dragged over your chest, the way your nipples were already hard from how wrecked he’d gotten you with just his voice and the weight of him in your mouth. he looked possessed.

“shorts too,” he muttered. “now.”

you shimmied them down, no underwear beneath. he groaned when he saw the slick mess between your thighs—your folds glistening, the soft little quiver in your thighs as they spread wider, like your body was begging for him.

“jesus christ,” he whispered, dragging a hand down his face before climbing between your legs on the couch. “you dripping for me already, baby? all that from sucking my cock?”

you nodded, breathless. “please—chris, i need—”

but you didn’t get to finish. because his mouth was on you.

no teasing. no warning. he dove in like he was starved, tongue dragging a thick stripe up your slit before his lips closed around your clit and sucked hard enough to make your whole body jolt. your back arched off the couch, a desperate cry ripping from your throat as your fingers shot into his hair, holding on.

he groaned into you—deep and filthy—as he licked, sucked, devoured you like he was mad about it. like tasting you was the only thing anchoring him after a shit day. and when he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, your thighs snapped around his head like instinct.

“fuck—chris, please—”

“shut up.” he didn’t stop. didn’t even slow. his fingers fucked into you fast and deep while his tongue circled your clit in tight, hungry patterns. you could hear the slick sounds between your legs, feel the obscene heat building in your gut, your whole body trembling under the force of it.

you were gonna come. and he knew it.

he pulled back just enough to speak—his mouth shiny, chin wet, voice low and raw.

“you gonna come for me, baby? on my fuckin’ face?”

“yes,” you gasped. “yes, chris—please, i’m gonna—”

“then fuckin’ come.”

and you did. hard.

your legs locked around his head, your body convulsing with it, loud and desperate and messy as everything cracked open inside you. he didn’t stop until you were twitching, whimpering, pulling at his hair to make him stop because it was too much.

but even then—he didn’t give you a break.

he climbed up your body, still hard, still leaking. lined himself up and looked at you like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“you want me to fuck you now?” he rasped.

you nodded, dazed, soaked, spent but aching for more. “please.”

and then he was inside you.

no condom. no pause. just a deep, brutal thrust that had your eyes rolling back as he buried himself to the hilt. you felt everything—the way he stretched you open, the way he filled you so completely you could hardly breathe.

he started to move—deep and punishing, slow at first just to watch the way your face crumpled, then faster, rougher, fucking you like he owned you.

“tight as ever,” he growled into your ear. “so fucking wet. you needed this, whore? needed me to fuck it outta you?”

“uh- uh huh.” you whimpered, a little too loud for comfort.

“too loud,” he cooed, voice laced with mock sympathy as his hips drove into you again, deeper this time. “be a little quieter.”

and sure, you tried.

and sure, you failed. miserably.

because how could you be quiet when he was fucking you like this? when your back was arched, legs hooked over his shoulders, his cock slamming into you so perfectly, so brutally, that your vision blurred? every stroke knocked another breath out of your lungs, dragged another sound from your throat—whimpers, gasps, cries that bordered on sobs.

“mm-mm,” he tutted, not slowing at all. his hand slid up your throat, not choking but holding, thumb pressing just beneath your jaw as your head lolled back. “you don’t listen. always so fuckin’ loud when i tell you to be good.”

your mouth hung open, but no words came—just a broken little moan as he shifted his angle and hit something dangerous inside you. your nails clawed at the cushions, your hips twitching against his grip.

“what’s that?” he whispered, leaning closer so his lips brushed your ear. “gonna come again?”

you nodded frantically, body trembling, throat too tight to speak.

“huh. ‘course you are.” he gave a sharp thrust that made you cry out again. “can’t even help yourself, can you? so fuckin’ needy. you like this? getting ruined on my cock while you make all those pretty little sounds?”

you sobbed out a yes, not even caring how pathetic you sounded. you were gone—fucked dumb, so deep in it your body barely felt like your own.

his grip tightened around your throat.

“come then,” he growled. “and keep your eyes on me while you do it.”

and somehow, somehow, you managed it—staring up at him with tears on your lashes and his name breaking on your lips as your whole body shattered beneath him. your muscles clamped around his cock, spasming hard, your moans spilling out no matter how hard you tried to bite them back.

and he loved it.

because a second later, he was losing it too—hips stuttering, a filthy groan dragged from his chest as he spilled into you, deep and hot, holding you open with both hands as he came with a force that left him trembling.

he stayed there for a moment, still inside you, breath hot against your cheek.

“you really don’t know how to shut up,” he murmured, smirking against your jaw. “guess i’ll just have to keep fuckin’ you ‘til you learn.”

you took in deep breaths, trying to blink the stars from your vision, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. every nerve felt like it was on fire. every breath tasted like chris.

but just when you thought you’d come down from your high—

smack.

a hard slap landed square against your already soaked, overstimulated pussy. the sound echoed off the walls, sharp and wet, and your whole body jolted with a strangled cry.

“fuck!—chris—” you gasped, hips twitching away instinctively, only for his arm to hook around your thigh and yank you right back where he wanted you.

“mm-mm, shhh,” he hummed, low and dangerous as he knelt between your legs, his voice thick with post-orgasm haze but laced with something hungrier now. “gotta train this pussy to be quiet.”

he ran two fingers through your folds—slow, almost gentle—and you whimpered at the contact. you were so sensitive you couldn’t think straight. he watched your hips jerk, your thighs tremble, and his grin deepened.

“look at this messy little cunt,” he muttered, dragging your arousal—his cum—down to your clit, circling it until your back arched off the couch again. “still so fuckin’ wet. still leaking for me.”

“chris—too much, i can’t—”

“you can,” he said calmly. “and you will.”

and then his mouth was back on you.

no mercy. no patience. just relentless, obscene suction on your clit while two fingers curled deep inside you again, stretching your swollen walls and dragging moans from your lips that you couldn’t even begin to hold back.

you thrashed, breath catching, tears slipping down your cheeks from how intense it was—your thighs trying to close, your hands scrambling for something to grip, something to ground you.

but he held you open. forced you to take it.

“you said you’d be good,” he growled against your skin. “so fucking be good.”

your body betrayed you. despite the overstimulation, despite the ache—your orgasm was already building again, terrifying in its speed, the pressure crushing.

“no—chris, i’m gonna—i can’t—please—”

“shut up. yes. yes you can,” he snapped, rubbing hard circles over your clit while his fingers fucked you fast and deep and relentlessly. “you’re gonna come for me again. right now.”

and you did.

you came harder than before—louder, wetter, your entire body locking up as a gush of release flooded his hand and the couch cushions below. you sobbed through it, shaking uncontrollably, legs twitching as he kept going just a second longer, milking it out of you, letting you writhe and cry and fall completely apart.

only then—only then—did he slow, pulling his fingers out, slick and glistening, before sucking them clean with a low, satisfied hum.

he leaned over you, gaze molten, his voice barely above a whisper.

“that,” he breathed, “was for making all those sounds.”

your whole body was trembling, soaked and flushed, your chest rising in frantic little pants as you tried to ground yourself—but chris wasn’t done.

not even close.

you barely had time to blink before he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over—face pressed into the cushions, ass up, legs spread wide.

“look at this mess,” he muttered, dragging his fingers down your slick folds again, letting your wetness drip down your thighs. “you’re fucking dripping. ruined my couch already.”

you whined into the cushion, heat blooming in your cheeks at how wrecked you were, at the way your body was betraying you—still aching, still needy.

he gave your pussy another hard slap.

smack.

“quiet. stay just like that,” he growled. “don’t fuckin’ move.”

you nodded, barely managing a broken little yes before the blunt head of his cock was back at your entrance. he didn’t ease in this time—he slammed into you, hard and deep, making you cry out into the pillow, your body jolting forward from the sheer force of it.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, gripping your hips so tight you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. “this pussy’s never felt so good. all wet and twitchy for me. greedy fuckin’ thing.”

you couldn’t speak. you could only moan, every sharp thrust driving you higher again, overstimulation and desire colliding until you felt like you might explode.

he leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, one hand coming up to fist in your hair and yank your head back, forcing you to arch.

“you like getting fucked like this?” he rasped against your ear. “like a little toy? used until you can’t think?”

you whimpered—yes, a thousand times yes—but all that came out was a gasping, wrecked little moan.

“that’s what i thought,” he muttered, pounding into you harder. faster. the couch creaked beneath you, the wet sounds between your bodies obscene. “you’re fucking perfect. made for this. made for me.”

he reached around, fingers finding your clit again, and you screamed—your whole body jerking, pleasure sparking up your spine like lightning.

“no, no—chris, i can’t—”

“shhh. it’s okay. you can,” he growled. “one more. give me one more.”

you were sobbing into the cushions, eyes rolling back as your body spiraled out of control. every nerve was on fire, every part of you begging for relief. he rubbed tight, relentless circles over your clit while his cock pistoned into you, deeper and harder and faster.

“come on, baby,” he grunted. “be a good fuckin’ girl. come for me.”

and you did.

your orgasm hit like a fucking bomb—your body clenching around him so hard he shouted, thick ropes of cum spilling into you as he fucked you through it, your legs trembling, your voice hoarse from screaming his name.

he collapsed over you, still buried deep, breath ragged against your neck.

your bodies were a mess of sweat, slick, and sex—his cum leaking down your thighs, your skin sticky with heat and every inch of you raw from how good it felt.

you stayed like that, both of you catching your breath.

for a moment, neither of you moved.

not because you didn’t want to—but because you couldn’t.

your body was limp, twitching with the last echoes of your orgasm, and chris’s weight on top of you was grounding in a way that made your heart ache. your breath came in short, shaky bursts, your cheek pressed into the cushion, legs splayed open, thighs sticky with slick and cum and sweat.

then, slowly, he softened inside you and let out a quiet, exhausted breath.

you felt him press a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade. another to your spine. then he whispered, “you okay?”

your throat was dry, but you nodded. “mmhmm.”

he was already moving—slipping out of you carefully, fingers brushing down your sides like he didn’t want to let go just yet. he helped you shift, cradling you gently into your back as your body trembled, and when he looked at you, the cocky edge was gone.

now, it was just him.

your chris.

the one who made sure you were breathing. who checked your pulse. who brushed the hair from your damp forehead with the back of his hand and kissed your temple like it was the only thing keeping him calm.

“too much?” he asked softly, voice thick with something real now—guilt, maybe. or just love.

you shook your head, curling into him.

he exhaled like he needed to hear that. then he stood, only for a second, disappearing into the bathroom. you heard the faucet run, the sound of a towel being soaked, rung out. he came back and knelt beside the couch, warm washcloth in hand.

“spread for me,” he said, but this time, there was no demand. no teasing.

you did, cheeks flushed, and he cleaned you gently—every swipe careful, reverent. he wiped away the mess between your thighs, his cum dripping down your skin, and kissed your knee once he was done.

“you’re so good,” he murmured. “such a sweet girl.”

you smiled, hazy and warm, and reached for him. he wrapped you up in his arms, pulling the blanket over both of you, burying his face in your neck like he wanted to disappear into your skin.

“sorry i came in all pissed n’ shit,” he said after a minute. “you didn’t deserve that.”

you carded your fingers through his messy hair. “you didn’t take it out on me. you let me take it from you.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you.

and then he kissed you—soft, slow, open-mouthed. nothing hungry now. just grateful.

“you always do,” he whispered.

“i always will,” you promised. he held you tighter.

he couldn’t even remember why he was mad earlier.

a / n . . . if this flops theres no point to live on

[prissyhs]

. . . matt, your best friend—gets drunk, whispers your name like a prayer and eats you out like a sinner.

drunk!matt x soft!reader | smut oral (f receiving), messy face-sitting vibes, praise, slurred begging, overstimulation potential

The bass thumps faintly through the walls, but up here, in the bedroom, the air feels thick and slow. Like the world stopped moving the second you let Matt press you down against the bed, eyes glassy, lips swollen, drunk off cheap whiskey and the thought of getting you like this—under him. For him.

Or more accurately, above him.

He’s on his knees between your thighs, flushed and mouthy, palms pushing up under your skirt like he’s impatient just to feel where you’re warm. Your panties hit the floor ages ago, somewhere between breathy giggles and him whispering “C'mere– l– let me...please, I...i need it– haah...”

Now? His face is buried in you like he means it.

“Fuck– baby,” he groans against your inner thigh, kissing it sloppily, tongue dragging a line up toward your heat. “You’re so soft. Can’t stop thinkin’ about this. Can’t—”

He doesn’t finish. Just licks again, slower this time, his tongue flat and warm as it presses into your folds, collecting slick with a deep, hungry sound in his throat. He buries his mouth against you, breath hot and wet, tongue working through the mess like he’s savoring every inch.

Your hips twitch. You’re already dizzy.

“Wanted you all night,” he mutters, kissing the top of your mound like it’s something sacred. “And you’ve been sittin’ there, bein’ sooo sweet—lookin’ at me like that…”

You don’t even realize how tight you’re gripping his hair until he groans again, tongue dipping down low to circle your entrance. He noses deeper like he wants to drown in it, breath dragging out in a ragged, half-drunk moan when your thighs try to clamp around his head.

“M- matt...” you whimper. You can barely think. His jaw is working so messily between your legs, and his nose—fuck, it presses up right against your clit every time he licks upward, slick building with every pass of his tongue.

He doesn’t wait for permission. Doesn’t tease or slow down. He spreads you open with both thumbs & devours—broad, greedy strokes from base to tip, then quick little flicks right over your clit like he knows it’ll make you jump.

“Don’t care,” he says into you, slurring it a little, voice sticky and full of praise. “I’ll be good. Just—lemme taste. Please.”

He’s so drunk. And it’s making him reckless. He kisses your pussy like he doesn’t know what shame is—mouth open, chin wet, tongue messy and constant. He moans again when your hips grind up into his face, and he fuckin' ruts against the mattress like the taste of you is getting him off.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, licking harder now, rougher. “Could stay here all night. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Sweet girl like you…”

His mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling it sloppily while his nose bumps against it with every twitch of his head. You cry out, legs tightening, trying to run—but he grips your hips, growling low, and buries himself deeper.

“That’s it...baby–let me have it.”

And with the way his mouth is moving—wet, hot, tongue stroking fast and needy—you do. You come shaking against his face, back arching, moaning something close to a sob as his name stutters off your lips.

And Matt? He moans too. Like you did something to him.

ㅤ⠀ㅤㅤ⊹ㅤ⠀© RENESSAㅤㅤ⠀࣭ ㅤㅤ do not steal nor copy!Lil note; need this so bad.

[prissyhs]

maybe im delulu but this all sounds like something chris would actually do

affirmations 𝜗𝜚 christopher sturniolo

cw—smut, dom!chris, unprotected sex, choking?

chris’s hand brought you out of your trance as he grabbed your chin, making you look at yourself in the black full-body mirror. “none of that lookin’ away shit” he grunts, hips smaking your ass harshly as he thursts into you. “say how fucking pretty you are.” your eyes roll into the back of your head at his command, his grip, and how hard he was fucking you. it was driving you mad. your hair stuck uncomfortably to your neck, and sweat dripped down your face. you didn't feel or see the prettiness that chris described but you didn't want him to stop fucking you. stabilizing yourself with a sigh, you fix your lips to speak. “i am pretty, so fucking pretty”

his soft motions contrast his sharp thrusts, fingers gently caressing your face and his dick brusing your insides. his darkened eyes meet yours as he watches your face contort, the high in pitch moans falling out of your mouth effortlessly. “you’re so perfect it’s fucking ridicoulus” he groans, hand wandering all over your lower body. your silence irritated him. so bad that his eyebrows furrowed, and he gave you a light smack on the ass. “cmon, mama, you know the drill.” “i am—” “all of me is perfect.” “i am perfection.”

your words were almost convincing, but there was a hint of uncertainty in your tone, and chris picked it up. fast. his actions spoke for him. he was putting in more work now, more effort to get you to understand. his hand wrapped around your throat, almost cutting off your airways. “say it like you fucking mean it.” “m not fucking around anymore.” his pointed tone and tight grip sent shivers down your spine. your body reacted quickly to his dominance, back arching and mouth falling open to form words that he wanted to hear. “my–my body is beautiful my face isperfect i am perfect–”

the mirror shook with each aggressive thrust from him, the glass threatening to break. his hold on your neck loosened, but his hand remained in the same place. you watched as a smug smirk painted his features as he listened to you praise yourself, the words being music to his ears. “atta girl” he soothes, going momentarily easy on you. “now keep em’ coming or you won’t cum”

[prissyhs]

it’s ALL over the screen

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ chris is such an asshole when it comes to nathan’s girlfriend, duh. you steal his best friend from him all the time! so when you text nathan pictures to post on instagram with your ass all out, he calls you every name under the goddamn sun: says you look like you snuck onto earth with that ugly ass face. ironic of him, really, considering his favorite position to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend in is missionary. needing to see your pretty face, because it’s his only weakness.

“nahhhh.” chris exhaled through his nose, watching you falter. “so motherfuckin’ confident sending your boyfriend those ass pics, but now you’re here tremblin’, can’t even get it to bounce on me?” your thighs burned. your arms were too weak to hold you up anymore. you were trembling so hard your teeth chattered. you didn’t know how many times he’d pushed you to the edge, dragged you there by the throat only to let you dangle. never letting you fall. never letting you cum. he was mean about it. he enjoyed it.

it started with the photos. cute little shots in that tight little mini skirt. you knew what you were doing, you had sent them to nathan, but you knew chris was there. you knew he’d see them. you wanted him to. now, you were straddling him, body damped in sweat, nipples swollen from how many times he’d bitten them, twisted them. your pussy was so overstimulated it throbbed even untouched, leaking onto his thighs, your wetness pooling under you as if you’d spilled your guts out. but still. still. he wouldn’t let you finish.

every time he’d sense your orgasm building, your stomach tensing, your hips stuttering, he’d rip it away. pull his cock out of you. snatch his fingers from your clit. leave you with that horrible emptiness. that ache. that annoying pressure that refused to leave your body.

chris’s hand slid from your waist where he’d been guiding you like his own personal sex doll, to your tits. his fingers grabbed your brown, sensitive nipples and rolled them slowly, watching your jaw clench from the sting. your hips jerked up desperately. “fuck—” you choked, already gasping. your hair stuck to your sweaty face, your head dropping to the side. you couldn’t even look at him anymore. you couldn’t bear to see the satisfaction on his fuckin’ face. he could tell you were close again. he always knew.

chris grabbed your waist again, this time not to steady, but to lift you. he threw you off his lap. your body hit the bed hard, soooo sore and dizzy, your cunt painfully clenching around nothing. you whimpered. he climbed over you slowly. his knees pinned your thighs open. he was fully in control, leaned over you, sweat dripping from his jaw as he reached down to grip his cock, fat and twitching in his hand.

he lined it up with your entrance. you spread your legs, twitching violently as they opened wider. your pussy fluttered. you were so soaked it was nasty. your thighs were trembling, your chest stuttered with each breath, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stay present, trying not to collapse from the desperation of needing him inside you. he laughed under his breath. you were falling apart for him and he loved it so badly. “chris, please,” you whispered. “i need to…” your words broke as your lip trembled. your body was betraying you, crying without permission. your eyes watering with heat. your thighs closed tighter around his hips, not to trap him, but to grasp yourself into reality.

chris rubbed his swollen tip against your urethral, dragging it up and down soooo slowly. your cunt twitched around nothing, your clit throbbing. then the tears came. three hot tears dripped down your cheeks. two from the left. one from the right. chris tilted his head. “look at you fuckin’ cryin’.” he sounded delighted. however, because he loves when you cry for him, he pushed inside.

your back arched off the bed, he slid in so deep, so fast, your whole body jerked. the fullness making you scream, your pussy clamped down around him hard, the overstimulation felt like pain. “aughh—chris! please. please, please—” you sobbed. his thrusts were heavenly. dragging against every sensitive nerve, every edge inside you. it felt like your body was breaking apart and you loved it. hated it. needed it. chris wiped your tears with his thumb as he fucked into you. then he licked it. sucked the salt off the thumb of his skin.

“i wonder what nathan would think,” he whispered, “if he saw his girl like this. sobbing. begging me to fuck her.” you could barely hear him. you were somewhere else. somewhere floating. you moved your hips on instinct, trying to meet his thrusts, knowing he had to be close too, he hadn’t cum yet either. you could feel how hard he was. how swollen. how angry he was inside you.

“he…he’d be mad,” you choked out. “so so so mad…” chris gripped the bedpost above your head and fucked into you. your body jolted upward with each thrust. the headboard slammed the wall. the sheets were soaked beneath you. you were about to cum. finally. after all of it. your whole body tightened around him. it was finally fuckin’ happening. it was going to hit…

and then it didn’t. a ringtone. loud. so fuckin’ loud.

chris stopped his movements. you screamed. “no, no—please!” your voice cracked, completely gone. your body thrashed under him, hips chasing anything. you were right there. you could feel the delicious feeling. but chris had already pulled out. you whimpered, throat dry, tears streaming again. you tried to close your thighs, tried to press your palm to your clit but he caught your wrist mid air and pushed it away. he climbed off the bed. “might be important,” he said. “you never know…” you lay there, legs still spread open, shaking uncontrollably. you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t think.

chris picked up his phone. paused. stared. then looked at you, a mean, mean smirk spreading at his thin lips as he held up the screen. “what are the fuckin’ odds,” he muttered. “it’s your boyfriend.”

[prissyhs]

⇢ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓

you cheat on your bf with chris — i do not condone cheating!! ⚸ audio

you told yourself you were done.

done with the late night texts, the secrets, the guilt curling hot and heavy in your stomach every time your boyfriend’s name lit up your phone while your panties were stuffed in chris’s pocket. you said you were over it— over him — and you meant it, right up until tonight. right up until your voice found the comfort of his name again, your feet took you straight to his door, and your conscience, as always, got left behind in the hallway.

you knock once, your heart in your throat. he opens the door like he already knew you’d be there.

bare chest, sweats hanging low on his hips, sleepy grin twisting into something smug the second his eyes land on you. he doesn’t say anything at first, just leans against the frame, looking at you like a problem he loves having.

“couldn’t stay away, hm?” he finally mutters, voice low, a little rough, like he was half asleep before you got here. “was wonderin’ how long it’d take.”

you shift on your feet. “i didn’t mean to… i just…”

he tilts his head. “just what?”

you swallow hard. “just missed you.”

his eyes drop to the dress you’re wearing. short, tight, no bra, just enough to make his jaw set and his crotch twitch. he hums under his breath, tongue swiping the inside of his cheek.

“so much for feelin’ guilty,” he says, stepping back to let you in.

you hesitate. not because you’re unsure, but because it still feels like a sin to want him this bad. especially when someone else’s name is still saved next to yours in your phone.

but that doesn’t stop you. it never does. you step inside.

the door shuts behind you with a quiet click that sounds too final, like the lock slipping into place means something more than it should. he doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath.

his hands are on you instantly— one at your hip, the other sliding up your bare arm, over your collarbone, curling around your throat with just enough pressure to make your head tip back.

“you miss me that bad, baby?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he pulls you closer. “couldn’t go a full week without gettin’ stuffed full of my cock?”

“no,” you breathe, voice barely there. “need you.”

his fingers tighten.

“or did he not fuck you right again?” chris continues, like he’s trying to make you admit it. “poor baby. always runnin’ back to me for the real shit.”

“he doesn’t— he never—” you blink hard, dazed already. “he doesn’t fuck me like you do.”

he watches you squirm.

“god, you’re so fuckin’ easy for me,” he whispers. “come here in the middle of the night like a little whore with no self control. dress short, mouth shut. what were you expecting, hmm? you think i’m just gonna be nice to you now?”

he laughs, soft but mean, and you swear you feel it down your spine. “turn around.”

your body follows before your brain catches up. palms against the nearest wall, chest heaving, dress hiked up over your ass in one slow push of his hand. he steps in behind you, cock already hard through his sweats, rubbing against the thin lace of your panties with a lazy pressure that makes your knees buckle.

“fuck,” he groans. “already soaked. fuckin’ knew you missed me.”

“’s all for you, chris,” you whimper. “only for you.”

his hand slides down between your thighs, fingers dragging through your folds like he’s savoring it. the groan he lets out is filthy, possessive. he doesn’t bother pulling your panties off, just yanks them to the side and dips two fingers in your cunt like he owns it.

you gasp, hips jerking. “fuck— chris—”

“take it, baby,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper before pulling them out, letting them trail up your stomach, over your lips. “open.”

you part your lips for him, already gone. he pushes them in and you moan around them, tasting yourself, wet and messy.

“so sweet when you’re quiet like this,” he murmurs. “when you shut the fuck up and let me do what i want.”

you feel the heat of his cock nudging at your entrance, heavy, hard, unrelenting. he pushes in slow until he’s bottomed out, your walls clenching around him, already too tight, too full.

“jesus christ,” he hisses, one hand braced on your hip, the other sliding up to wrap around your throat again. “this pussy doesn’t feel guilty at all.”

his thrusts start slow, deep, controlled. you feel every inch of him stretch you open, feel him drag against spots that make you dizzy. he fucks like he’s trying to remind you of who you belong to.

“he doesn’t fuck you like this,” he mutters, speeding up, the slap of skin echoing through the room. “he doesn’t even know what you sound like when you’re getting ruined.”

you whimper, “i fuckin’ hate him.”

“nah, you just love me more.”

your hand claws at the wall. your legs shake. he presses his chest to your back, voice in your ear, filthy and low.

“gonna fill you up,” he growls. “gonna make you go home dripping my cum all over his fuckin’ sheets. maybe he’ll kiss you after. taste what you did. you like that?”

“yes,” you cry. “fuck, chris, yes.”

he laughs, breathless, cock throbbing inside you.

“fuckin’ slut,” he mutters. “say it. say you like it.”

“i like it,” you gasp. “i like cheating on him. i like it when it’s you.”

“that’s my girl.”

he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back against him as he starts to fuck you harder, rougher. your moans turn to choked sobs, every thrust deep enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“i own this pussy, understand? ’s all mine,” he hisses, fists tightening around your hair.

“yes, fuck, it’s all yours — i’m all yours—” you choke out.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

your eyes roll back. it’s too much. it’s perfect.

“you hear that?” he pants, one hand pressing over your mouth, the other sliding down to rub fast circles over your clit. “that’s the sound of your pussy takin’ my cock. that’s the sound he never gets to hear.”

suddenly, your body snaps, pleasure ripping through you like fire. you cum hard, walls fluttering around him, clenching down like you’re trying to keep him inside. chris groans, low and wrecked, and then he’s cumming too, hot, thick, deep, spilling into you with one last thrust that makes your whole body go limp.

he stays inside you. breathing heavy. chest to your back, hand still around your throat.

and then he says it, so quiet it barely registers.

“you’re never gonna stop comin’ back.”

you don’t say anything. you know he’s right.

a/n: thank you anon for the request! two fics in one day hellooo 😛 also ion fully fw the audio but it’s alr

find my masterlist here

🏷: @thicknick19 @sturnslutz @viviansturns @cayleeuhithinknott @briizysturn @devotedlyteenagemusic @drewswife @sturnsblogs @auttysturnz @mattspillowprincess @adoremattsturns @dolliraez @sturniolo1trips @sturns-mermaid @sophsturns @444sturns @adorechris @rriverscuomo @megameatymatt @izzylovesmatt @y2kstarr @owensbabygirl @courta13 @ribbonlovergirl @passionfruitchris @sophand4n4 @slvtf0rchr1s @matts-wife @slutformatt17 @mattsplaything @slut4chrisloads @ariheartsmatt @surprisecurlyfriess @drewswife @chrismoans

© zenithsturniolo

[prissyhs]

I’m literally begging yall to get a life— if the triplets don’t want to post a video or even a post saying there will be no video— they don’t have to😭😭 Please stop assuming they owe us anything just because they’re influencers. Maybe they just didn’t feel like it this week, it’s not that deep

[prissyhs]

CELEBRATING YOUR BDAY WITH

GHOSTFACE!CHRIS

[ smut, eating pussy] — requested by anon.

it started like any other night with your half-sarcastic texts, the usual back-and-forth. with one difference— chris was sitting in his car, observing your house for what felt like hours, waiting for a good moment that finally came.

chris stared at the screen for a second, thumb hovering like he might send something else— but didn’t. instead, he dropped his phone onto the passenger seat beside him and looked up at your bedroom window across the street.

lights still on.

he sat there in the dark for a bit, chewing the inside of his cheek. you hadn’t told him where you were going tonight. no mention of any big party, nothing. besides it was the middle of the week so he assumed that you're staying at home, in your room that he knew way too well by now.

you were always taking forever in the shower, so it was his chance. he grabbed his stuff, leaving his car before he could talk himself out of it.

a few minutes later, he climbed through the window like muscle memory, landing silently on the floor. the room was warm, dimly lit by your bedside lamp, and soft music played from the speaker on your dresser— some song he recognized but couldn’t name. you always did that, always had something playing, even when you weren't in the room.

the bathroom door was closed, a faint glow spilling out from underneath. chris could hear the water running as he stood there for a second, looking around, noticing the book you told him about laying on your nightstand, or his hoodie hanging off your chair like it belonged here. he never asked you to give it back.

he sat on the edge of your bed, twirling the black folding knife between his fingers, fidgeting in the only way he allowed himself. it wasn’t really a gift, just something cool. functional. the idea of doing this— showing up, giving you anything, made something twist in his chest, but he ignored it. after a moment he set the knife into the small black box with a little bow on it, closing the lid and putting it on his lap.

chris waited for a long while until finally, he heard the bathroom door creak open, the soft thud of your feet as you stepped into the room, wearing some oversized shirt and panties, casually drying your damp hair with the towel you had in your hands. but then you froze, your heart jolted. you actually jumped, letting the towel fall onto the ground, a sharp gasp catching in your throat as your eyes locked onto the figure sitting on your bed like he lived there. for half a second, instinct kicked in— fight, scream, anything, before your brain caught up and recognized him. chris. no matter how many times he would do it, sometimes you still got scared.

you pressed a hand to your chest, pulse racing, eyes narrowing. "holy fuck— what the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, trying to sound annoyed instead of shaken.

"took you long enough," he smirked, pulling the hood off his head.

"you scared the shit out of me, you psycho."

chris shrugged, "you're the one who leaves your window open."

you rolled your eyes, walking over to him. "yeah, but it's not exactly an invitation for you. doors exist, y'know? you don't have to break in through my window."

“technically, i broke in to give you something. so…” he tossed the small box to you, more abrupt than he meant to. you caught it, suspicious. “give me something?" a frown appears between your eyebrows as you look at the box. did he...? nah, no way.

"yeah, open it."

you give him a glance, "if this explodes, i swear—”

"kid, c'mon. you think i would put a bomb in it while i'm still in the room?" he mutters sarcastically, leaning back on his hands, remaining nonchalant. "just open."

you sigh unamused and finally flipping the box open to reveal the matte black knife inside— sleek, cold. beautiful, in that twisted way you understood. your eyebrows lifted. “what is this?”

he replies as it was the most normal thing in the world, "a knife."

"i know it’s a knife, genius.” you take the knife out of the box, putting it on the nightstand beside your book, and looking at the knife from all sides. it was similar to the one chris had, and you had seen many times before. "what, no bloodstains?" you joked.

"thought i'd let you christen it," he said sarcastically, but his body was still a little tense.

"why are you giving me this?" your eyes meet his.

chris shrugs again, stretching like it was no big deal, but his eyes remain on your face, searching for your reaction. "figured you’d want somethin' practical. use it on me if i ever get all soft and start writin' you poems or some crap.”

a small smile appears on your face, surprise clear in your expression. your fingers lingered on the handle longer than you probably meant to. "it's actually…cool.”

“i know."

then there was a pause— a weird one. you put the knife back in the box just as chris clears his throat, and without looking at you, he pulled the rest of his gift out of his hoodie pocket. he handed it to you with a muttered, “here.”

it was a ziplock bag of your favorite candy— hard to find, the kind you once mentioned in the past, but didn't know he was listening.

a polaroid, creased at the corners. it was you, snapped mid-laugh months ago, hoodie half-off your shoulder, sun in your hair. you didn’t even know he took it.

and a small red USB. no label.

your eyes move over everything that was there, placing the candy on the bed, your fingers running over the polaroid. it was a nice shot, capturing the way he sees you. but your attention is caught by the red USB. "and what is that?" you glance at him curiously.

“just some music. stuff that doesn’t suck,” he shrugged. “don't get all weird 'bout it.”

you picked it up and after his words something shifted behind your eyes. "you made me a playlist?” you ask with a hint of disbelief, just in time as some song starts playing from your speaker— a song he knows. one of the ones he'd thrown onto that USB like it was nothing.

have you got colour in your cheeks?

do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type?

that sticks around like summer in your teeth?

"it's not— not really a playlist, just... music. that i happened to put together.”

are these some aces up your sleeve?

you were aware that it's a gift for your birthday, which is really surprising because you haven't expected anything from him— especially not this. but the small red USB you hold in your hand, and the rest of the gift throws you off. it's so casual, but knowing chris nothing he does is ever just that.

have you no idea that you're in deep?

the fact that he had to put effort into this was making your stomach twist. he had to thought about it, which track was gonna be first, which last, what songs to add, what it'd say without using words. it was making chris feel exposed and uncomfortable, and he knew you weren't expecting it.

i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week.

he finally looked at you, there was hesitation under the way he held his jaw tight, like he regretted bringing the whole damn thing. this wasn’t his kind of thing and he knew it, but at the same time it was worth it.

how many secrets can you keep?

“you didn’t have to do this,” you said, voice quieter now, as you stand right in front of him, putting the red USB on your nightstand. chris's eyes roam all over your body.

'cause there's this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow

“yeah, well. but i did.” he cleared his throat, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. "you ain't gonna start cryin' or anything, right?” he asks sarcastically, pulling you onto his lap. you straddle his thighs, hands wrapping around his shoulders immediately as you let out a small chuckle, rolling your eyes.

"nah, i'm good." you shake your head, while chris's hands move under your big shirt, brushing against the skin on your waist.

and i play it on repeat until i fall asleep

“happy birthday,” he said, barely above a murmur. "or whatever."

the smile on your face makes him sick. "thanks. or whatever." he smirked, hiding the relief that cracked through him.

spillin' drinks on my settee

(do i wanna know?) if this feelin' flows both ways?

his breath hitched at the intensity of your gaze, the air pulsed between you two, thick with everything unsaid. chris leans in, crashing his lips against yours, getting a hum in approval. all heat and hesitation he felt the whole day, became one desperate kiss as your tongue dances with his, your hands clutching at the fabric of his hoodie, dragging him closer like space itself was enemy.

(sad to see you go) was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

his hands move higher up underneath your shirt, every touch stoked the fire higher— fingers threading through hair, a low gasp swallowed between kisses, the edge of a moan bitten back.

his hand found your jaw, tilting your face to the side slightly, and his lips dragged down your neck, sucking and biting on your skin.

(baby, we both know) that the nights were mainly made

for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

he flips you over so that your back hits the mattress and he's on top now, his hands already taking off your shirt and throwing it somewhere aside. you gasp softly when his weight settled over you, his lips just beneath your ear where your pulse betrayed you, sending shivers down your spine. then he moves lower, each kiss leaving a scorch behind, breath catching in your throat when his tongue barely traced your hardening nipple.

crawlin' back to you

you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs while he plays with your tits, getting a whimper from you. his lips give attention to every inch of your skin but your most sensitive area, avoiding it intentionally to build a slow burn within you.

ever thought of callin' when you've had a few?

'cause i always do

"chris..." you whine, watching as he moves downwards, gently biting on your inner thigh while his fingers keep playing with your breasts.

"ah, ah, ah," he cooed, feeling your hand in his hair, trying to push his head towards your core. "be patient," he murmurs, his breath fanning across your lower abdomen. his eyes move to the clear wet spot on your panties, a smirk appearing on his face. "this is just another one of my birthday gifts for ya," he looks up at you from between your legs, eyes dark with desire. "but you gotta stay still."

maybe i'm too

busy being yours to fall for somebody new

his fingers trace the edge of your panties before he hooks one under, slowly pulling them down. you're laying there with your chest falling and raising rapidly, hair spilled across the pillow, watching him purposely teasing you and knowing you're completely at his mercy. his hands gently spread your thighs wide, looking at your glistening pussy and he feels his pants growing tighter.

"fuck, you're drippin'," he growls, placing small, feather-light kisses close to your center, torturing you intentionally and drawing out the moment.

now i've thought it through

crawlin' back to you...

your voice slightly shaky with desire as you mumble, "it's my birthday and— and you're being cruel to me...."

chris' smirk grows, his fingers spreading your folds, pressing a gentle kiss, his tongue just barely grazing your heat. "i think m'being really generous, actually." he avoids any contact with your clit, instead using the top of his tongue to tease the edge of your folds.

"that's unfair—" you whine, hips twitching upwards but he presses them back down with his hand.

"i don't think it is," he mutters, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "it'd be if i just pulled back now, but i assume–"

"no!" you immediately say panicked.

yeah, thats what he thought.

"no?" he slowly repeats, driving you crazy with his little satisfied smirk and the look in his eyes. "you don't want that? should i make you beg for it?"

he puts your trembling legs on his shoulders, dragging the flat of his tongue up one side of your entrance, then down the other. a low groan leaves his mouth, his dick uncomfortably straining against his pants. your fingers tighten in his hair as the frustration and desperation keeps building up within you. the wetness starts pooling beneath you, soaking the sheets and it's incredibly hot for him.

"please, chris." you mewl, clenching around nothing.

"please eat you out? please make you come with my tongue?" his tone is mocking, he clearly enjoys making you struggle and that makes your stomach flip. his eyes flash with triumph and desire when finally he gives your clit a quick flick with his tongue before slightly pulling back, being a cruel tease on purpose.

you're losing your mind.

"what else do you want me to say?! yes, i want whatever you give me. i'd get on my knees if i could just for you to—"

a loud moan is ripped from you when he suddenly gives in to your desperate pleas and dives in, sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around it while pushing two fingers inside of you. he curls them upward, hitting that sweet spot deep within.

your mouth goes slack, eyes roll back when he finally gives you what you craved. chris growls against your pussy, the vibration sending shockwaves through your entire body. his fingers fuck you slow and deep while his tongue laps at your clit mercilessly, and you're already embarrassed, knowing you won't last long.

"holy— shitt..." you whine, looking down at him with your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure.

the sloppy, wet slurring fill the room as he devours you like a starving man, redoubling his efforts when he feels your legs trying to close around his head. his fingers dig onto your thigh as he keeps your legs spread on his shoulders, his cock twitching at the sounds you were making. "chris, i— fuckk, oh my god—" the grip on your sheets gets tighter as you grow closer and closer to the edge. he hums, eyes locked on your face, letting you grind against his face while his tongue skillfully swirls around your clit. he can sense your walls sucking his fingers in, causing him to go even faster and deeper.

he has you right where he wants you, a moaning mess, squirming around on your bed and pulling on his hair as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

"so close— gonna... c— oh!" he sucks on you even harder, his fingers hitting your g-spot, making you come undone into his mouth. he licks and swallows every single drop as your juices flood his tongue, savoring the taste of you and letting you ride out your orgasm.

your vision goes blurry at the intensity of your release, your body slightly shaking as you gasp softly for air.

he pulls back moments later, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean, making sure you watch him. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself and by the look on his face you can tell that there's a long night ahead of you.

"happy birthday, princess," he says again, followed by the sound of his belt hitting the floor.

a/n; look at this romantic fella 😻

taglist; @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @brazyturtleneck @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10 @chriss-slutt @icrazy106 @ribbonlovergirl @izzylovesmatt @trevorsgodmother @sturniolo101 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @bernardsbendystraws @loser41ifee @cleolovespepsi @joanakaulitz @oopsiedaisydeer

[prissyhs]

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜— 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

matt enjoys watching you on your knees acting so needy and whiny.

contains: smut (no p in v), oral (male receiving), praise kink, slight dumbification kink, softdom!matt.

“please matt… wanna suck you off so bad.” you whisper, your hands running up and down his legs as your wide eyes plead into his with desperation. he looked so good tonight, a black t-shirt paired with black jeans and a backwards cap on as an accessory, your pussy ached with need from how bad you want him in your mouth, it was almost pathetic.

matt sheepishly grins down at you, you always did look so pretty on your knees between his legs for him, so eager and happy to please him for your own pleasure. he reaches out, petting your soft hair before he runs his finger through your locks, cooing at you in a mocking manner.

"what a whiny girl you are, sweetheart." he chuckles, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your bottom lip, watching the muscle glisten with your shiny lip gloss. "so needy f'my cock, huh?"

you nod eagerly, pressing your face against his thigh and fluttering your wispy lashes, gaining another laugh from him at your desperate attempts to have his cock shoved down your throat. you couldn't help it, you needed him.

"gonna make it messy? just how i like it?" he cocks his head, wanting to get a rise out of you for the fun of it. the sight of you yearning for him made his dick twitch, you were so willing, such a good girl.

"i promise."

he grins once more, showing off his pearly white teeth this time. his palm leaves your pouty face and makes a beeline towards his zipper, taunting you by pulling it down slowly, lifting his hips to pool his jeans and briefs around his knees.

matt grips himself tightly, using his free hand to tug you closer by your hair, gently slapping his cock against your pink toned cheek, humming softly at the sight of you closing your pretty eyes.

"you look so pretty like this." he whispers, brushing his mushroom tip over your lips, watching your lashes flutter open, looking up at him so wide and hungry. "such a pretty girl with my cock against her face."

you whine softly, parting your lips only to fed his cockhead, though you take it like a good girl and wrap them around him, swirling your tongue before letting go with a 'pop', gently kissing his slit.

he curses under his breath, letting his hands drop besides him on each side as you took him in once again, this time swallowing him deeper.

a tiny tear drop rolled down your puffy cheek once you felt him hit the back of your throat, he gently wipes it away, purposefully bucking his hips upwards. "cryin' already? is it too much f'you, baby? hm?" he teases, letting out a chuckle that quickly gets replaced by a groan.

you pick up your pace, bobbing your head as spit drools down his balls, your hand reaching upwards to cup them and smear your saliva over his sensitive skin. you were a mess, making slurping noises and moaning around his thick shaft to send him vibrations, just the way he likes it.

"good fuckin' girl, all drooly and dumb over my cock." he remarks, pushing your head down, your nose touching his pelvis for a few seconds before he lets you come up for air, gasping and inhaling sharply while you pumped him with your hands.

"cum... please cum for me." you softly rasp out, your vison blurred out as you flicked your gaze up at him, craning your neck to kiss his loaded balls, eventually sucking them as you continued to stroke his glistening cock.

a tiny bead of precum forms at the tip solely based off your request, as much as he wanted the feeling to last longer, he couldn’t hold back anymore, he wanted to add to your teary face by making a mess of himself.

“yeah?” his rhetoric ask comes out shaky and breathless, losing his cocky persona as he throws his head back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down his moans. in a matter of seconds he pulls your mouth off him, taking his dick in one hand and the other keeping your head still. “c’mere then.”

you watch with a blur as he milks himself with a firm grip, twisting and squeezing his wrist ever so slightly, tapping his messy cockhead against your lips, letting out a soft ‘mhm’ as you opened wide.

“shit, baby, m’cummin all over you.” he warns before a loud groan rips through his throat, coating your pink muscle with spurts of his warm load, a few ropes of cum landing on your cheek, igniting a few moans from you. “shit, shit, shit.”

pumping every little drop out, his chest heaves with exhaustion, lazily sweeping his cum off your cheek to your mouth, smirking tiredly as you licked it off.

“you look so sexy with my cum on your face, sweetheart.” he mutters as he leans forward towards you, brushing away your sweaty strands. “such a pretty girl.”

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

note ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ heavily inspired by this post !! he’s sooo sexy i need him. i hope u guys like this >_<

[prissyhs]

neeeeeeed more of this au

「 sneaking around with besfriendsbf!chris ᵎᵎ 」

smut, cheating, oral (male receiving), cursing, petnames

“i gotta run to the drug store, do either of you wanna come?” your best friend announced as she stood up from her sofa, looking between you and chris.

you shook your head politely murmuring softly about how you were tired and didn’t want to get up.

“chris?” she asked, raising a brow.

“nah,” he sighed, standing up and stretching, “i lowkey need to go to the bathroom.”

your best friend rolled her eyes, grabbing her keys and leaving her apartment. you and chris stayed still, waiting until you heard the sound of her car start and pull out of the parking lot. chris turned to you, a smirk on his pink lips

“wanna help me with something?” he grinned, plopping back down onto the couch. he spread his legs slightly, his armed sprawled across the top of the cushions.

your eyes widened. “chris she just left.”

“all the more reason to,” chris hummed, settling into the couch more.

as wrong and horrible as it was, you couldn’t help the throbbing between your legs. chris looked a little too good. his jeans hung low on his hips, his plaid boxers peaking out a bit underneath his faded t shirt. before you could think twice, you were on your knees in front of him, toying with his belt buckle.

chris’ jeans were at his ankles in no time, the front of his boxers dark from the precum leaking from his dick. you slowly dipped your hands below the elastic, pulling down his underwear as his cock sprung free.

you watched with widened eyes, peering over the lenses of your large glasses as chris slowly pumped himself, maintaining eye contact with you. his hand steadily moved from his cock to your head, tangling your hair in his fist as he guided you down onto him.

you wrapped your lips around chris’ length, taking him as far in your mouth as you possibly could, jerking off what you couldn’t fit. your tongue swirled around him, bobbing your head up and down

“shiiiit,” chris groaned lowly, “takin’ my dick so well huh?”

you moaned in response around him, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. chris tilted his head back across the back of the couch cushions, his hands still guiding your head on his dick.

“that’s it baby, ‘s so good i gotta fuck around with my girls best friend,” he murmured, his eyes screwing shut.

you continued you suck him off, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you took his entire length, your nose pressing to his lower tummy. between the way you looked with his dick in your mouth and your pretty little sounds, chris was a mess. his orgasm grew closer and closer, his grip on you getting tighter.

your nails dug into his thighs, steadying yourself as chris repeatedly fucked your face. you peered up at him, mascara running down your cheeks as he came hard. you practically milked him dry, pulling off and opening your mouth to show chris you swallowed every last drop.

he smirked down at you, leaning forward to peck your lips before pulling his boxers up. you heard your best friend’s car pull back into the parking lot, the both of you freezing. chris hurriedly yanked his pants up as you scrambled back to your original spot of the sofa.

chris stood up abruptly, heading down the hall. “if she asks, i’ve been in the bathroom since she left.”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ i really don’t like this to be honest </3 anyway pls lmk ur thoughts and let me know what u would like to see from me !! requests and asks are open for this au (same for cowboy!matt) so don’t hesitate to send anything :) love you all and thanks for 600!

[prissyhs]

literally wtf i’m screaming

[prissyhs]

Hooooooooly

mean!chris x shy!reader

✰ content warning: smut, getting caught, pornography, mutual masturbation, vouyerism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, sneaking around, enemies to lovers

✰ summary: while staying the night with nick and matt, you accidentally stumble upon chris jerking off to porn, and in the heat of the moment, despite the fact that neither of you get along, he invites you to join him

idk who first wrote mean!chris or shy!reader, so I can't give proper credits, but I feel like it's definitely been written before, so credits to everyone who did it before me!

dividers by @/anitalenia

Lights Turned On

chapters: | 1 |

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" Chris demanded, silencing his mic as he sat shirtless in front of his laptop, gaming with his friends. He didn't even bother looking up at you, continuing to tap away on his controller. However, he could see your silhouette slip into his room out of the corner of his vision.

His room was dark, the only light coming from the glow of his screen, giving his blue eyes an almost ethereal look. He smelled faintly of aftershave and body wash, and the damp look of his hair indicated to you that he had just taken a shower.

Despite the close bond you'd had with his two brothers, Chris had never warmed up to you in the same way Matt and Nick had. He was always acting cold towards you, making snide comments, and doing just about anything he could to get under your skin.

It might not have bothered you so much if you hadn't been secretly crushing on him since you met him. Despite how painfully obvious it was, it was something that none of the brothers had picked up on, including Chris.

In some ways, you were disgusted with yourself for finding Chris attractive. He was messy, loud, inconsiderate, and rather mean to you most of the time. You just couldn't help but always want to be around him and look at him. You just wanted him to notice you and pay attention to you, even if he was poking fun at you.

"Spit it out. You lost or somethin'?" He asked, slipping a headphone off his ear and peering up at you over his computer with a mixture of annoyance and frustration that you hadn't answered his question. "I'm looking for some extra pillows and blankets. We're having a movie night downstairs. Matt and Nick said you might have some."

Chris rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, check that closet. Should be some in there." You made your way over to his closet door, resting your hand on the cold metal of the knob and tugging it open. Just like Chris had said, he had both extra blankets and pillows neatly placed on the top shelf.

As you stood on your tippy toes, trying to reach them, just barely grazing the wool fabric with the tips of your fingers, you heard a chuckle from behind you. Then Chris said something into his mic about stepping away from the game for a second, and he took off his headphones, placing them on the edge of his desk before he approached you, seeming even more irritated now.

Your heart raced as you felt the warmth of his body as he came up behind you, his chest nearly touching your back as he retrieved the bedding from the top shelf of his closet with ease. You spun around, and Chris was shoving the blankets into your arms with an unamused look on his face that you could barely make out in the dark.

"You're fuckin' helpless, you know that?" He rasped before making his way back over to his gaming chair. You could feel blood rush to your cheeks as you stood in place, your heartbeat hammering away in your chest and your stomach fluttering from how close he had just been to you.

Your gaze danced over his flared nostrils, his pouty lips, and his concentrated expression that were all lit up by the blue light of his computer. You didn't mean to gawk, but God, he looked so pretty when he was annoyed. "You need somethin' else?" He asked, his eyes locked onto you from above the screen of his laptop again.

You dumbly shook your head no, not moving from where you stood, clutching the blankets in your arms. "Then scram. I'm busy," he huffed, his eyes dropping back down to his game. Embarrassed by how flustered he had gotten you and hoping that he hadn't noticed, you fled without saying another word.

Downstairs, you and the other brothers were bundled up under the blankets with a bag of popcorn sitting between the three of you as the movie started. You, Nick, and Matt stayed up late, whispering and laughing amongst yourselves until your voices started to drop off and were replaced by the sounds of rhythmic breathing and quiet snoring.

By the time the movie had ended and the credits were rolling, both Matt and Nick were sound asleep on either side of you, and you were fluttering in and out of consciousness. You contemplated joining them in their slumber, giving yourself over to sleep and cocooning yourself up in the mess of blankets that Chris had given you earlier in the night.

However, the light from the TV made that nearly impossible, and as you reached up to rub your tired eyes, you felt the old, dry mascara that was still caked to your lashes. You let out a sigh, knowing you couldn't sleep like this, at least not comfortably.

You quietly stood to your feet, carefully stepping over one of the boys to go shut off the source of the bright light. It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, and before nestling back into the bedding strewn across the floor, you decided to head up to Nick's room to grab your toothbrush and facewash.

You tiptoed up the stairs, hoping not to wake anyone as you slowly guided yourself through the darkness with the rail of the banister. You reached the top of the steps, and as you started to head towards Nick's bedroom, you heard a sound that made your stomach flip. It was coming from Chris' room.

You silently approached his cracked door, and the closer you got, the more clearly the lewd noises came through. You heard heavy breathing and soft moaning, whimpering almost. You peered in, taking in the sight of Chris leaning back against his headboard, still shirtless, one hand holding his phone sideways and the other moving rapidly beneath his blanket.

Your breath caught in your throat as it dawned on you what he was doing. The brightness of his phone lit up his face, giving you a view of every detail - his hooded blue eyes, his softened facial features, and his pink lips curling into a blissful smile. He looked more attractive now than ever.

You could hear the sound of him furiously pumping his length and the sound of his moans escaping him complimented by the noises that played from his phone. "Fuck," he whispered, his breath and the stroke of his hand both speeding up rapidly.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't take your eyes off of him, and you could tell he was nearing the edge. You lingered in his doorway, biting down on your lip as you felt a familiar warmth spreading in your lower stomach. A wetness pooled between your legs, and you squeezed your thighs together to relieve some of the built-up tension.

You were so enthralled by the scenery, sticking your head so far in through the door that you didn't notice how close you were to touching it until your hand brushing against it made it creak open wider. The sound startled him, snapping him back to reality and pulling him out of his sexual fantasies.

Chris immediately ceased the motion of his hand and shut off his phone screen. You gasped, too stunned to move. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw your silhouette in the doorway. "Jesus! You scared the fuck out of me," Chris chuckled, realizing he'd definitely been caught.

"I-I'm sorry. I was just going to Nick's room," you managed to squeak out, completely embarrassed you'd been caught peeping on him. "You forget which room was his or somethin'?" He teased you, his voice lower and softer this time.

He continued to slowly stroke himself under his blanket, thinking it was too dark for you to see, but you knew what he was doing. "What? You want a private show or somethin'?" Chris snickered, his voice laced with sarcasm, but you didn't pick up on the joke.

You swallowed hard, your words caught in your throat. You bit down on your lip and curled your fingers tightly around the edge of the door as you silently waited in the entry way for what felt like an eternity.

"Jesus, kid. Either come in and close the door or fuck off," he responded in a hushed voice, sounding a bit annoyed that you'd interrupted him, but you figured if he were that annoyed with you, he would've only given you one option - fuck off.

You took a step forward, officially crossing the barrier between the hallway and his bedroom. You pushed the door closed, sounding the faint click of the latch as it locked into place.

His eyebrows flew up in shock, realizing you really did want a private show. He'd given you the first option half-heartedly, certainly not expecting you to take him up on it, but the realization that you wanted to stay made his cock pulse in his grasp.

His breath was soft and quiet, but you could hear it becoming more shallow as he continued to pump his length. "C'mere. I won't bite. Unless you want me to," he hissed, his voice low and full of lust as he patted the bed beside him, inviting you to come closer.

You slowly approached him, half-expecting him to start teasing you for wanting to watch or pull some kind of mean prank on you. "Light on?" He asked, making your stomach flip even more. "Sure," you quietly mumbled. Chris switched on the lamp on his bedside table, the soft yellow glow lighting up the one corner of his room that you two were in.

His eyes met yours before your gaze traveled back down to his hand, moving slowly beneath the blanket. Chris' eyes followed you as you sat down next to him, and the way he looked at you starting to shift.

He always just saw you as his brothers' annoying friend who was around all the time, always needing something. However, he found himself getting excited by the idea of you being interested in what he was doing beneath the covers. He never expected this scenario to play out, especially not with you.

The air between the two of you was thick with tension, and Chris waited in anticipation for you to make the next move. "What were you watchin'?" You asked, curiously glancing at his phone that was resting on his chest facedown.

An expression of both interest and surprise crossed his face at your question. He chuckled, reaching for his phone and picking it up with his free hand. "You mean what was I watchin' before you barged in here and interrupted me?" He laughed. "Porn. Obviously," he sneered, his snarky attitude never faltering.

"No shit. What kind?" You wondered aloud, growing more confident and more curious as Chris responded with vague answers. "I mean, it must have been really hot with the way you were going at it." His lips curled into a smug smile, realizing why you were asking.

"Why? Wanna watch with me?" He wondered, searching your face for a reaction. Your eyes subtly widened, and you slowly nodded. You couldn't believe Chris was going to share with you the kinds of things he liked to get off to. The vulnerability of the moment had you more turned on than you'd ever been in your life.

He unlocked his phone, turning the screen so that both of you could see it. "Just this slutty little redhead taking two cocks at once," Chris lustfully responded, continuing to stroke himself under the blanket.

Of course, even in the way he described the video, he couldn't help but talk about the woman in a degrading manner. Typical.

You hated that you found that kind of hot.

When you felt yourself clenching around nothing at the way he described the scene, you wondered where the hell your self-respect had gone, and then you started to wonder if you'd had any at all to begin with, considering you were getting wet over a jerk like Chris.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the video that Chris played, picking back up where he had left off. It was a woman on all fours, bent over the arm of a couch while one guy was pounding into her from behind, smacking her ass, and the other guy was fucking her mouth, gently running his fingers through her hair and pushing her head down to take more of him.

The volume was low, but you could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and the sound of the woman moaning around the second man's cock. She looked like she was really enjoying herself, being the center of their attention.

You found your hand wandering south and slipping into the waistband of your shorts. As if you had no control over it, you began to soothe the aching feeling between your legs, your middle finger gently tracing your folds and teasing your slit, your gaze locked onto the scene that played out in front of you.

"If you're not into this, you don't have to watch it, but I'm not changing it," Chris replied, his voice trailing off at the end as his eyes left the screen for a moment and wandered over towards you. His breath hitched as he noticed the placement of your right hand, telling him all he needed to know about what you thought of the video.

You were gently tracing circles over your clit with your fingertips as you bit down on your lip to keep your moans from escaping. When you became aware that his eyes were on you, you grew self-conscious and brought your movements to an abrupt stop.

"Oh, so you do like this? You wish that were you, huh?" He teased, nudging you in the arm. Your cheeks grew warm at his accusation. "C'mon. Don't be shy. Keep going," he quietly encouraged you. He kept his gaze on you, enthralled by the way you looked while you pleasured yourself.

At first, you were just watching the video, but you couldn't help that your focus started to shift from Chris' phone screen to his hand that was rapidly moving under the blankets. You couldn't keep yourself from picturing what it looked like. A smirk played in the corner of his lip as he realized where your attention was.

"You wanna see it, don't you?" Chris purred, reading the look of desire that was written all over your face and the way your eyes lit up when he offered. You swallowed the lump in your throat and silently nodded. Chris chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. He pulled back the blanket, revealing himself to you.

He let it fall flat against his stomach, gently running his fingertips along the backside as he glanced over at you, searching for your reaction. You were mesmerized. It was a little bigger than average, a few veins decorating his length.

He gripped his shaft and pointed his tip towards the sky, giving you a different perspective. The head was a perfect mushroom shape and bright pink from how swollen it was. A bit of precum glistened, pearling at his slit as he continued manhandling himself.

"I have kind of a strange request," Chris told you, wetting his lips as he stared at your own. "Sure. What is it?" You innocently asked, but your mind was racing with what the next words that were going to leave his mouth would be. He'd been going back and forth for the past several minutes, debating on whether he should ask or not, and he'd finally decided that he couldn't help himself.

"The only downside to just using my hand is, it gets a little dry after a while," he started to say, his voice low and full of lust, hoping you understood where he was going with this. "Do you think you could like.. spit on it?" He nibbled on his lower lip as he waited in anticipation for you to answer. Your eyes widened, his question sparking your interest.

Whether Chris knew it or not, given the circumstances you were in right now, there wasn't a single thing he could ask you for that you wouldn't give to him in this moment. You certainly weren't going to say no to that. "Of course I can," you responded. His facial features softened, surprised by your enthusiasm.

You leaned forward so that you were hovering just a couple of inches above his cock. You gathered some saliva in your mouth, pursed your lips, and let your spit slowly drip out onto his throbbing cock head. He let out a satisfied sigh as your saliva mixed with his clear fluid and slowly spilled down his tip and onto his length.

"Fuck. That's it," he huskily moaned, tossing his head back for a moment, his eyes fluttering closed as he spread it around. You watched the scene before you unfold, Chris massaging the wetness you provided him with into his cockhead.

You slipped your hand back into your waistband, touching yourself alongside him. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and started gently squeezing it, making a twisting motion with his wrist every time he dragged his hand back up his length.

The video was still playing in the background, and the two of you would periodically glance over at it, enjoying the way it heightened the experience. However, you each found your eyes wandering back over towards the other person.

Chris' gaze flicked back and forth between your hand in your shorts and your face, and you did the same, glancing back and forth between Chris' cock and his pleasured expressions, every once in a while, the two of you meeting each other's stare.

"You wanna know a secret?" Chris asked in between his staggered breaths. "Mhmm," you replied in a soft moan, nodding your head. He leaned in a little closer to you, lowering his voice to a volume just above a whisper.

"I love jerking off with an audience. The way you're looking at my cock right now makes it so much hotter than if I were just doing it alone," he admitted, emphasizing every stroke for your benefit. Your eyes widened at his confession.

"You know what else I love?" He asked, a soft moan unfurling from his lips before he licked them. "What?" You asked, excited to hear what incredibly hot thing he was gonna say next. "I really like talking dirty to someone while I jerk off for them," he disclosed, smirking over at you.

"Let's hear it then," you replied with your eyes locked onto his. Chris was taken aback by your boldness, a stark contrast from the seemingly innocent, shy, and reserved demeanor you approached him with in your everyday life.

"You're a very naughty girl for spying on me, you know that?" Chris purred under his breath. "See how hard I am for you? See how hard I get from you watching me? Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep looking at it like that.."

His words sent a pulsing to your clit, and you started to rub it faster. He softly moaned, mirroring you and speeding up his strokes. "You like watching me jerk off for you, don't you?" He taunted you, leaning in a bit closer to you again. "I do," you quietly replied.

"I bet if I hadn't caught you, you would've watched me from my doorway until I busted all over my hand," he accused you. You didn't confirm nor deny his claim, but the look on your face said it all. "You've fantasized about this before, haven't you? Watching me stroke my cock for you.." He cooed, his voice trailing off as his breath quickened.

"How do you know that?" You asked, continuing to rub your clit in small, fast circles while the two of you gazed into each other's eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip as he bit down on it. "It was just a shot in the dark, but the fact that you just admitted to it.. fuck.. that's so hot," he whispered.

It was getting harder for each of you to hold back. The sound of each of you whimpering filled the room, along with the lewd, wet sounds of each of you pleasuring yourselves. You could feel the knot in your stomach forming and threatening to come undone any moment now.

That's when you heard your name unfurl from Chris' lips, followed by him saying in a gravelly voice, "Fuck. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna bust all over my hand just for you." His words made your pussy throb, immediately sending you over the edge. Your whole body started to shake, the muscles in your core spasming.

"Chris.." you softly whined, gazing into his eyes as you came all over your fingers and his sheets that you were clutching onto tightly with your free hand. "Fuck," Chris moaned as he reached his own climax beside you. You peered down at his cock just in time to admire the pearly white substance that had shot all over his stomach and his chest.

Your gaze fell to his hand that was still steadily pumping his length, completely coated in a thick layer of his fluid. You watched as a few final ropes of cum ejected from his swollen tip and started to drip down the sides of his cock.

A guttural sound fell from his lips as he slowed down his strokes, draining every last drop. You each stared at each other, breathlessly, both of your chests heaving in unison. A look of bliss and satisfaction crossed both of your faces as you each sat there, processing what had just happened while you each tried to recover from your respective orgasms.

Chris reached for a dirty shirt that was on the floor to clean his mess up with. He glanced back over at you, still calling his breath back to him as he let out a soft chuckle. "This stays between us, okay? All of it. If you ever tell anyone, I'll deny it and tell them it was some weird, sick dream you had."

You nodded in agreement. You didn't want a single soul knowing that you and Chris had watched porn and gotten off together, and you certainly didn't want them knowing it had happened because you were peeping on him.

"Get back downstairs before one of my brothers wakes up," Chris replied, his intense blue eyes lingering on you. You got up and headed for the door, your heart racing when you realized the two of you had moaned each other's names rather loudly as you'd both finished. You prayed that it hadn't woken anybody up as you reached for Chris' door knob.

"You're so fuckin' pretty when you cum by the way," Chris mumbled from behind you. You stopped for a moment and glanced over your shoulder. "So are you," you said in response, watching Chris scroll through his phone, avoiding eye contact with you.

He chuckled, finding it both comical and endearing that 'pretty' was the descriptor you wanted to go with. "Thanks." Chris switched off his lamp, and you left his room, completely forgetting your toothpaste and facewash in Nick's room.

You tiptoed back downstairs, grateful that everyone was still sleeping soundly.