sillysturns

[sillysturns]

blurb of jj rough fucking you in his new bed

includes… heavy smut, unprotected p in v (don’t do that) oral, (fem!receiving) overstimulation, ROUGHHH sex

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“thought you said you were waiting until you asked me to be your girlfriend hm?” jj pounds into you mercilessly as you moan louder. “couldn’t- fuck… FUCK baby- couldn’t hold back..” jj muttered and railed you even harder.

jj suddenly pulls out, before you could whine, jj connects his lips to your puffy clit and eats you out with abandon. as you reach your high, he plunges his two digits into your sopping pussy roughly, earning another orgasm out of you. “baby.. too much” you whimpered.

“not done yet mama.” he smirked as he suddenly rammed back into your cunt, fucking you rougher and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “you’re so tight and wet… fuck- tell me where you want my nut at baby.” he lifted your legs over his shoulders, making his cock hit magic spots you didn’t even know existed.

jj kept hitting those spots with each thrust until he brung you to the edge. “FUCK JJ!” you screamed and came on his cock, hard. he fucked you roughly through your orgasm, causing you to have another one and let out gushing liquid from your spasming pussy.

“fuck baby that’s all i need, shit that’s it right there.” his thrusts became more erratic as he neared his climax. “where you want it at sweet girl?”

“i-inside…” without another word, jj went harder and faster until his cock erupted, spurts of cum shooting from his twitching tip. “fuck baby, did you like that?”

“yeah, i did”

“good girl, you made a mess.”

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taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @masongetinmybed @ethanthequeefqueen @aaliyahsturniolo @sophand4n4 @kieeslove @bee-43 @chalahyung01 @eddxemxnson @always-reading

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more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here

[sillysturns]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 18+, MDNI

Imagine best friend!JJ being in the middle of jacking off to photos of you when you call him. His cock is hard and pre-cum leaks from the tip as he scrolls through your instagram feed. Mainly clicking on the photos of you in bikinis.

A desperate whimper escapes him as he imagines it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

JJ is quickly irritated when his phone first goes off and sets him off pace, but his demeanor changes once he sees that it’s your name lit up on the screen.

The right thing to do would be to let it go to voicemail. It would be disgusting, perverted, even, to pick it up… but he knows he’ll do it anyway. Since when did JJ ever do the right thing? He needs to hear your voice.

“Jayj?” you say when the line picks up and he instantly feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.

“H-hey!” He chokes out, his voice on the brink of inaudibility.

“Hey Jay.”

Fuck. Your voice is perfect, he thinks.

“Um, what’s up?” He stutters as he continues to glide his hand over his thick cock, tugging at it harsher now than before.

“The boys mentioned they hadn’t heard from you yet today, so I wanted to let you know we’ll be down at the boneyard later.”

“Yeah? A party?” he asks coolly as he attempts to keep his composure, a sheen veil of sweat beading on his forehead.

“Mhm, and I need someone to protect me from those douchey, frat boy, kooks,” you flirt innocently, “so I was hoping you’d wanna come?”

Yes, he wanted to cum.

He wanted to cum on your stomach, in your mouth, inside your pussy. Just hearing you say the word nearly sent him over the edge. For a split second he was unable to respond, too focused on his pleasure.

He was close. Too close. It didn’t take much for JJ to cum these days — especially not when the pent up lust he had for you had reached new heights. He just needed you to talk to him some more with that sweet, angelic voice of yours.

As if you read his mind, you let out a deep sigh into the phone.

“Well, JJ? Are you coming or not?” you huff and that is all he needs to be sent over the edge.

“Fuck,” your best friend groans out.

“Yes! I’m— I’m coming,” he chokes into the phone, practically moaning at you as he pumps his cock a few more times, squeezing at the tip before spilling himself into his palm.

“I—I’ll be there,” he reassures you through bated breaths.

“Sheesh, Jay,” you giggle at his enthusiasm, oblivious to the situation. God, you were so fucking innocent.

“I’m glad to know you’re excited, I am too! I’ll see you there! Bye!”

JJ lets out a deep breath as the line disconnects down on your end.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, “I’ll see you there.”

He could consider himself totally fucked.

[sillysturns]

Try Me - C.S.

"yeah? let me give it a shot." or... the one where you've never been able to squirt, and cocky!fratboy!chris takes pride in his ability to make it happen for you. warnings: top!chris, bottom!reader, fingering, little bit of kissing, little bit of praise, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, squirtingword count: 1.1k a/n: this is just a lil thought i had! i don't own fratboy chris yall this image just gave that aesthetic. divider credit to @junabuggy!

you whined, your back arching as the pads of chris' long fingers pressed directly against your sweet spot, the pressure making you feel like you were going to sob. you reached down, grabbing his wrist, your nails digging crescents into his skin as you moaned, cunt clenching tight around him.

chris smiled, not faltering at your reactions, continuing his movements as he drew you closer and closer to the edge.

"that's it, baby, give it to me."

you shook your head, tears beginning to stream down your face.

"i-i can't!"

chris tsked, shaking his head.

"yes you can, baby. stop thinking so much, hm?"

chris had dragged you through two climaxes already, making your whole body feel tense, hot, and sensitive, but you loved every minute of it.

you had been sexually frustrated for a little while now, and chris had been doing everything possible to keep you satisfied. it wasn't that he didn't make you feel good, it was just that you wanted more.

you were very open about your sex life with your friends, and so were they. one of your friends had brought up in conversation how good her boyfriend was in bed, and upon divulging into further details, she gushed about how he always made her feel so good that she squirted.

you were always engrossed in the conversations, bringing up your own stories, good or bad, but you couldn't deny how much jealousy ran through you when you thought about your friend being able to squirt while you never could get there.

it wasn't really that serious, but you just couldn't get it off of your mind. every orgasm felt unsatisfying when you thought about how much better it could have felt. but, you didn't say anything about it. instead, you tried everything by yourself, desperately wanting to feel that gush of relief, and nothing seemed to work. you spent so much time on the internet, searching for answers, but it was all in vain. you weren't getting anywhere.

you and chris weren't dating, not technically. you were really in a friends with benefits situation, but it was bordering on becoming more than that. he often spent time over at your place, as your best friends normally would, and he happened to walk in at a terrible time. you had left your phone out with your google searches open on the couch, and he grabbed it before you could shut it off.

"chris! stop! give me that!"

this only encouraged him more, giggling as his eyes fell on the lit up screen, scrolling as he read, eyes slowly widening. he looked up, a smirk on his face as he spoke in a slightly mocking tone.

"so this is what you get up to when i'm not around?"

"shut up."

he walked towards you, handing you your phone back.

"no, seriously, do you? cause that shit's hot."

you rolled your eyes, hitting the power button on the side to turn your phone off.

"no. i don't."

he raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not buying it.

"you sure? cause that looks like you do."

you sighed, exasperated.

"no, chris, i don't. i can't figure out how. i've never done it."

his face reeled in shock, clearly not expecting that being your answer.

"wait, really? you're serious?"

you glared at him.

"i don't feel like being made fun of, chris."

he rapidly shook his head, his expression defensive.

"no, no, i'm not making fun of you. i'm just surprised. you've really never squirted?"

you cringed at his bluntness, your face blooming red. hearing it said aloud just made it feel so much more real.

"no. i just can't get there."

"i can get you there."

chris blurted it out before he thought a second about it. your head snapped to him, a laugh escaping you before you could stop it.

"no offense, chris, you always make me feel amazing, but if i can't make it happen for myself, i doubt you can make me squirt."

his face drew up, taking a slight bit of offense.

"yeah? let me give it a shot."

and give it a shot he did. chris seemed to know every way to get your body more and more riled up, the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightening every time he fingered you through another orgasm. you'd begged, moaned, and cried through it, hypersensitive but willing to let chris take a try at getting you to that intense high of euphoria.

his two middle fingers are still prodding at your sweet spot, and tears were pricking your eyes, your legs shaking around his arm.

"relax, baby. you're worrying too much. just feel."

you cried out as his thumb connected with your clit, the added pleasure hurtling you towards an orgasm faster than you could ever imagine. it felt different this time, and that gave you hope, so you tried not to think about the possibility of it, not wanting to psyche yourself out.

"doin' so good for me, baby. i've got you, just focus on how it feels."

it felt overwhelming.

chris was gently coaching you through it, his fingers working you as close to a climax as he possibly could, whispering praise the whole time.

"chris-!"

you sobbed out as you felt yourself about to fall off the edge of the cliff, chris placing gentle pressure over top of your lower stomach. you nearly screamed, your pussy fluttering around him as your eyes rolled back into your head.

"go on, baby, cum for me. bear down, honey, try to push me out."

you mindlessly followed his instructions, pleasure-drunk, as your vision went white. your climax burned through your entire body, waves of it skyrocketing through every part of you as you clenched down around chris, hard.

he groaned as your orgasm hit you, liquid squirting out of you and drenching his entire hand. he could have cum in his pants just from the sight. he continued to finger-fuck you through it, stopping when he could tell your pleasure was tinging on overstimulated pain.

you were gasping, eyes closed, head titled back, and he calmly stroked your inner thighs as he waited for you to come back to him.

"did so good for me, baby, so proud of you."

sweet nothings fell from his lips as you slowly roused, head lifting up and looking down at his hands, your jaw falling open.

"d-did i just-?"

he nodded, a cocky smirk on his face.

"you did. hottest thing i've ever fuckin' seen."

he moved up your body, kissing you deeply before giving you another minute to catch your breath.

"told you i could do it."

you could've smacked him if you had the energy.

"shut the fuck up."

he shook his head, laughing.

"never. you're gonna do that every time we have sex."

you dropped your head back down, groaning.

"what did i get myself into with you?"

"fun, baby. so much fun."

[sillysturns]

content warnings: smut (+18), pet names, squirting for the first time, grinding maybe, english is not my first language.

𝙬 𝙝 𝙚 𝙧 𝙚 . . .

𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

You’re bent over the table again, the familiar coolness of the wood pressing into your stomach and breasts, grounding you as your body hums with heat and exhaustion from what’s already happened. Your arms tremble as your hands clutch the edges, fingers digging into the grain, your knuckles whitening with the effort to hold yourself steady. Your ass is high in the air, soft and round, quivering slightly from the tension in your muscles. Chris stands behind you, his presence a solid, commanding weight. His hands find your hips, fingers pressing into your flesh with a grip that’s both possessive and steadying, anchoring you in place. The air around you is thick, heavy with the musky scent of sweat and sex, your breaths mingling in sharp, uneven gasps. His cock, hard and insistent, brushes against the curve of your ass, teasing for just a moment before he shifts, guiding it downward to nudge at your slick, swollen entrance.

He doesn’t rush. “You good, baby?” he asks, his voice a low growl, rough around the edges from exertion and arousal. His breath fans hot against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth radiating from your skin.

You nod, though your voice betrays you, coming out shaky and desperate. “Yeah—God, Chris, just—please.” You can barely form the words, your mind already fraying at the edges, overwhelmed by the lingering echoes of pleasure from before.

He chuckles, dark and rich, the sound vibrating through you as he presses the tip of his cock against you. Then, with a slow, deliberate push, he slides into you. It’s deep, unhurried, every inch stretching you open as your walls clench around him, adjusting to his size. The sensation is overwhelming—full, almost too much, your body still hypersensitive from the last round. He sinks in all the way, his hips flush against your ass, and pauses there, letting you feel him, letting the weight of him settle inside you. His hands roam up your back, tracing the dip of your spine with a touch that’s both tender and possessive, before sliding back to grip your hips again.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice thick with reverence. “You’re so damn perfect—tight, wet, gripping me like you were made for this.” His words sink into you, stoking the fire already burning low in your belly.

You moan, the sound spilling out unbidden, raw and needy. Your hips twitch back against him instinctively, urging him on. “Chris—move, please, I—I need it.”

He doesn’t give in to your plea for speed. Instead, he starts to move with that same maddening slowness, pulling out until just the tip remains, then thrusting back in, deep and controlled. Each stroke is precise, his cock dragging along your inner walls, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you. Your ass jiggles with every thrust, the soft flesh bouncing in rhythm with his movements, and you can feel his gaze on it, heavy and hungry. His hands slide to your cheeks, kneading them, spreading them apart as he watches himself disappear into you.

“Shit, look at that,” he says, voice dripping with lust. “Your ass—so fucking gorgeous, bouncing like that while I fuck you slow. Could watch this all day.”

The pace is torturous, each thrust building a slow, simmering pressure inside you. Your toes curl against the floor, your breath hitching as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter. It’s not the frantic, crashing release you’re used to—this is something else, something deeper, more consuming. Your body starts to tremble, a fine tremor running through your thighs and up your spine. You don’t understand it, this strange, overwhelming sensation bubbling up inside you, different from anything you’ve felt before.

“Chris—” you gasp, your voice shaking, barely coherent. “Fuck, it—it feels different. Too much, I—I don’t know what it is—”

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his skin searing into yours. His lips brush your ear, his voice low and soothing despite the roughness of his breathing. “Shh, baby, just let it come. Whatever it is, I’ve got you. Trust me.”

You whimper, nodding weakly, trying to surrender to the feeling even as it scares you. His thrusts don’t waver—slow, deep, relentless—each one pushing that pressure higher, stretching it taut like a wire about to snap. Your moans turn sharper, more desperate, your body arching, ass lifting higher as you instinctively chase the sensation. His cock hits that spot inside you, again and again, with a precision that makes your vision blur.

“Oh God—Chris, it’s—it’s too intense, I—I think I’m—” Your words dissolve into a cry, your mind too scrambled to finish the thought. You don’t know what’s happening, only that it’s building, unstoppable, a tidal wave rising inside you.

He growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on your hips. “Yeah, baby, that’s it. Let it out—give it to me. Wanna feel you lose it.”

And then it happens. The pressure breaks, shattering through you with a force that steals your breath. A gush of warmth floods from you, sudden and powerful, soaking your thighs, his cock, the table beneath you. You squirt, hard and unrestrained, the liquid spilling out in a rush as your body convulses, a scream ripping from your throat. The orgasm is blinding, raw, tearing through you in waves that leave you trembling and gasping, your mind wiped blank by the intensity.

Chris stills, buried deep inside you, his breath catching audibly. “Holy—fuck, did you just—?” His voice is thick with shock, his hands frozen on your hips as he processes what just happened.

You’re shaking, panting, your body still clenching around him as aftershocks ripple through you. “I—I didn’t know—I didn’t know I could—” Your voice is small, dazed, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

He pulls out slowly, almost reverently, and you feel another trickle of liquid escape you, dripping down your legs. He stares, eyes wide, his cock still hard and glistening with your release. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes, a mix of awe and disbelief in his tone. “That was—you’re fucking unreal.”

You collapse forward onto the table, your chest heaving, your legs too weak to hold you up. He steps closer, his hands gentle now as they stroke your back, your thighs. “You okay?” he asks, softer this time, concern threading through the lingering heat in his voice.

“Yeah,” you manage, though your voice is barely a whisper. “I just—fuck, I’ve never felt anything like that.”

He laughs, low and rough, still sounding a little stunned. “Me neither. Didn’t even know you had that in you. Shit, I didn’t know I could get you there like that.”

You turn your head to look at him, catching the mix of pride and amazement in his eyes. “You—you didn’t expect that either?”

“Hell no,” he says, shaking his head. “Thought you were just gonna come like usual. Didn’t know you were gonna fucking explode like that. That was—fuck, that was insane.”

Your lips twitch into a weak smirk, your body still buzzing. “Guess we’re both surprised.”

He grins, but there’s a glint in his eyes, a spark of something hungry and determined. “Oh, we’re not done figuring this out,” he says, his voice dropping lower. He steps between your legs again, nudging them apart with his knee. “Gonna see if I can make you do it again. Wanna feel that all over me one more time.”

a/n : yeah.

[sillysturns]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 | 𝐂.𝐒

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ OFTEN , THE WEEKND

chris sturniolo! x f!reader ― word count : 2k

WARNINGS : smut, dirty talk, remote controlled vib (so public) fucking yourself in front of him, sex toys, fingering, slight overstim, brat tamer! but with praise, usage of “toy”

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+

The vibe in the restaurant was low-lit, romantic, filled with soft murmurs and clinking silverware—but you could barely breathe.

Not because of the atmosphere. Not because of the wine.

But because of the small, merciless sleek vibrator pulsing inside you—deep and insistent—controlled by the man sitting right across from you.

Chris.

Smirking. Lazy in his seat, phone in hand like he was scrolling through some feed, but you knew better. His thumb hovered over the controls, and every now and then, he’d tap something, and you’d jolt—legs twitching under the table as another wave of vibration tore through your already dripping pussy.

“Stop squirming, baby,” he murmured, voice low, smooth, and soaked in that Boston accent that made your thighs squeeze together even tighter. “People are gonna notice, hmm?.”

You wanted to throttle him. Or kiss him. Maybe both.

Your fork trembled in your hand as you tried to stay composed, eyes darting to the couples beside you—still talking, thank God—before whispering through clenched teeth, “You’re such a fucking menace.”

He chuckled, tapping the screen again. A higher setting.

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood.

“I warned you not to wear a dress if you didn’t want to be my little toy tonight,” he said, casually taking a sip of his drink. “But you looked so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t help myself.”

Chris tugged you through the front door of the apartment by your wrist, your chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm. Your thighs were slick, trembling with frustration. The moment the door clicked shut, you turned toward him, eyes wild.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, or are you gonna keep being a dick about it?”

Chris just laughed. That deep, infuriating, knowing laugh.

He cupped your cheek gently, rubbing his thumb over your lip, his eyes full of something wicked and soft all at once. “You think you’ve earned that already?” he asked. “After how you were eye-fucking me all night, moaning into your wineglass like a desperate little whore?”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire something back—but he kissed you first. Slow, warm, indulgent. Like he had all night.

And then he pulled away, licking his lips softly.

“Go sit on the toy for me, baby.”

You blinked. “Chris—”

He shook his head, already backing toward the couch, phone in hand again. “Nah, no arguing. Go fuck yourself on it, like a good girl. I wanna watch that pussy stretch before I give you anything.”

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting with arousal. “You’re so fuckin’ dirty, Chris.”

“And you love it,” he grinned, sitting down and patting his thigh, like he was settling in for a show. “C’mon, sweetheart. Show me how desperate you really are.”

You could barely peel the dress off fast enough. The toy—a dildo fixed to the edge of the soft couch—waited for you where he left it earlier, like it had been part of the plan the whole time. You stepped out of your panties, flushed all over, knees trembling as you straddled it slowly.

Chris’s eyes raked down your body, shameless and hungry. “Mmm, there’s my girl. Fuck, look at you…”

You lowered yourself inch by inch, moaning at the familiar stretch. It was good—too good. Not as thick as Chris, but enough to press against your walls, make your mouth fall open and your head roll back.

“You like that?” he asked, voice dropping as he got up, walking over. His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, slow and warm and possessive. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this. Bouncin’ on that toy, tits all out, lips all swollen.”

You whimpered, grinding down harder, letting your chest bounce with each roll of your hips.

Chris knelt behind you on the couch and pressed a kiss between your soft tits.

“Nah, don’t just fuck it. Ride it, baby. Like it’s me. Ride it like you mean it.”

You did. You pushed your hips down, rocked against it harder, dragging sweet friction against your clit as Chris’s hands found your waist, guiding you, encouraging you.

“Yeah,” he breathed against your ear. “Just like that. God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect. You know that? Look at this ass.”

He gripped both cheeks in his hands, spreading them slightly as you gasped. Then came a firm smack—sharp, echoing—and another, followed by his mouth pressing a gentle kiss right where he’d hit.

“You’re fuckin’ made for this,” he whispered. “Takin’ cock like you were born to do it. And these tits—fuckin' hell ma.”

He slid his hands around your chest now, cupping you fully, thumbs brushing your nipples in slow circles, rolling them between his fingers until you moaned his name. “You like that, baby? You like ridin’ and gettin’ felt up, hmm my pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, Chris,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster now. “Please, please—”

“Please what?” he asked, mouthing along your neck now. You felt the soft sting of a hickey blooming right under your jaw. “Use your words, sweet thing.”

“I need more,” you begged. “I need you.”

He growled low, pulling you up just enough to lift you off the toy with a wet squelch. You whimpered, empty now, clenching around nothing.

“Lay back,” he ordered, already lowering you to the rug in front of the couch. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You obeyed instantly, desperate and aching, heart hammering in your chest as Chris laid between your thighs. His hands rubbed over them slowly, lovingly, thumbs stroking soft circles into the sensitive skin.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh. “So soft. So mine.”

He kissed lower, then higher, teasing everywhere but where you needed him most. His fingers finally brushed over your slick folds, spreading you open, and you gasped—body twitching at the first real touch.

“Drippin’ for me,” he whispered. “Fuck, baby. You were so good for me tonight, lettin’ me play with you in public like that. You deserve this.”

Then he pushed two fingers inside—slow, thick, curling just right as your back arched and your lips parted in a silent cry.

He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him. “Goddamn. So tight. Still so fucking tight, even after that toy.”

Chris leaned down and pressed another hickey into the curve of your breast now, his free hand massaging and squeezing your tit, fingers tweaking your nipple while the other hand worked inside you, fingers curling deep and dragging along your g-spot.

You whimpered. “Chris, I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered, kissing your chest with reverence, with fire. “You’re so close, I can feel it. C’mon, baby. Cum for me.”

He sped up his fingers, his thumb circling your clit in tight, perfect motions now, his mouth hot and open against your throat.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he growled. “All messy and desperate. My perfect fuckin’ girl. You feel that, baby? That pressure building?”

“Let it go. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

The orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave, your entire body trembling, thighs clamping around his head as your moans echoed off the walls. Your hands gripped the rug, nails clawing for something to anchor you as your back arched high and your pussy clenched desperately around his rough fingers.

Chris didn’t stop right away—he rubbed you through it, murmuring praise against your skin, kissing the tears that leaked from the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. You’re fuckin’ perfect. God, you’re so good for me…”

When the tremors finally slowed, he slid his fingers out carefully, watching as your cum dripped down your folds, sticky and glistening.

He licked them clean, groaning at the taste. “Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and breathless. “Chris…”

He laid beside you, tugging you into his arms, one hand still rubbing your thigh like he couldn’t get enough of touching you.

“I’ll fuck you next time,” he promised, grinning as he kissed your temple. “But tonight? I just wanted to watch my baby fall apart for me. And damn, you didn’t disappoint.”

You smiled through the afterglow, curling into his chest as he nuzzled into your hair, both of you still soaked in heat and satisfaction.

And you knew, deep down, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d let him ruin you like that.

Not even close.

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

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

[sillysturns]

SAY PLEASE 说请

WARNINGS: SMUT. LIGHT DEGRADATION. PRAISE KINK. BEGGING. POWER PLAY. FINGERING. ORAL (F). FACE SITTING. OVERSTIMULATION. CREAMPIE. MDNI.

you knew better than to expect chris to make things easy.

he never did. not when it came to this—when it came to you. especially not when he had you spread out like this, back against the cool sheets of his bed, knees parted, and that lazy smirk crawling across his face as he knelt between your thighs. eyes dark with intent, head tilted just enough to be condescending, like he already knew what you were going to ask for before the words even dared to leave your mouth.

"what's that face for?" he murmured, thumbing over the waistband of your panties. "y'wan' somethin'?"

you were already flushed, breath catching with the tension of it all—his stare, his fingers, the way he'd been trailing his mouth along your inner thigh for minutes, teasing. he hadn't touched you where you needed it. not once. not even close.

"y'know what i want," you breathed.

chris smiled, slow and cruel and hot. "nah. i don't think i do."

he ducked his head again, kissed a spot too high on your thigh, just near the crease of your hip, letting his teeth scrape gently. his hands were firm on your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft parts, keeping you open, keeping you exposed.

you whined—soft, needy—and chris chuckled, nose brushing along the edge of your underwear.

"what was that?" he asked, voice dripping smug. "that a sound or a word, pretty girl? 'cause if y'wan' me to do somethin'..." his eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and amused. "you're gonna have t'say please."

you swallowed, head falling back against the pillows. he'd said that before, half-joking, usually after you teased him first. but this time—this time he meant it. really meant it. he wasn't going to give in. not unless you begged.

and you knew he could wait. he could wait forever.

"chris," you breathed, hips shifting slightly, trying to press closer to him, but he didn't let you. his hands kept you still.

"that's not please," he said, sing-song. "i could do this all night, y'know. jus' sit here. maybe watch you squirm a lil' more."

he leaned down, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy over the fabric, warm breath making you twitch. but that was it. nothing more. no pressure. no tongue. just the idea of him.

"fuck, you're mean," you muttered, voice tight.

"mhm." he grinned, kissing you again, lower this time. "but y'like it. 'cause if y'really didn't, you'd tell me to stop.”

you didn't. you couldn't. because your head was spinning with how badly you needed him, how wet you already were just from the way he was looking at you—how he could ruin you without even trying.

his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties, tugging them gently, dragging them down achingly slow. he didn't even look away while he did it, gaze locked on your face, watching every reaction. every twitch, every inhale, every flicker of anticipation.

he dropped them onto the floor and groaned, real quiet. "fuck. look at that."

his thumb traced along your inner lips, feather-light, just enough to make your thighs tense. he didn't push in, didn't go where you wanted him. he was everywhere but there.

"chris, please—"

he paused.

but only for a second.

"mm, nope. not good enough."

his tone was almost playful. like he was testing you. like he wanted to see how far you'd go.

"y'gotta mean it, baby," he said softly, dragging his fingers up and spreading you a little wider. "say it like y'really fuckin' need me."

you wanted to curse at him. you wanted to slap that smug look off his face. but more than that, you wanted his mouth. his fingers. anything he'd give you.

so you gave in, just a little.

"please," you whispered, arching your hips. "please touch me, chris."

his eyes flicked down, then up again, expression shifting—darker now. hungrier.

"that's more like it."

and then, finally, finally, he leaned in.

his tongue slid between your folds, slow and heavy, licking all the way up before circling your clit with the barest touch. your back arched, a sharp breath tearing from your throat, and chris moaned softly, like he was the one getting touched.

"shit—baby, fuuckk," he breathed against you, mouth already wet and slick with you. "y'taste so fuckin' good."

he licked again, deeper this time, tongue slipping down to your entrance, teasing it, dipping in and then pulling back just to suck your clit into his mouth hard and fast, tongue flicking until your legs trembled around his head.

"keep 'em open," he warned, one hand wrapping around your thigh to hold it in place when you started to close around him. "told you, ya' not gettin' anything unless you beg for it."

"chris," you gasped, hips jerking up. "please, don't stop—please, i need more."

he groaned against your pussy, tongue fucking into you again, slower this time, but deep. the hand on your thigh moved, his middle finger circling your entrance, slick already from his mouth.

"y'that desperate for it?" he muttered, fingers teasing the edge but not pressing in yet. "need me to stretch you out, huh?"

you nodded, breathless, grabbing the sheets beside you.

"use your words."

"yes. yes, please. chris, fuck, i need your fingers—please."

he smiled against your cunt and finally gave you what you wanted.

one finger slid in first, slow and purposeful, curling up until it hit just the right spot. you cried out, clenching around him, and he moaned again, watching the way you reacted like it was his favorite show.

"tight as fuck," he muttered, pushing in a second finger. "goddamn."

you couldn't even think straight. his fingers moved expertly, scissoring just enough to make you twitch, knuckles brushing your walls with each drag. and his mouth—fuck, his mouth never stopped. tongue on your clit, sucking, licking, pressing down until your stomach clenched.

"y'close already?" he teased. "jus' from my fingers?"

you nodded again, whining, hips grinding down onto his hand.

"mm-mm," he said, pulling his mouth back slightly. "y'wanna cum, y'gotta beg again."

you almost sobbed. your body was already right there—your thighs shaking, your hands clawing at the sheets—but he was cruel. relentless.

"please," you whispered, almost crying. "please let me cum. chris, please, i'll do anything."

his eyes rolled back, breath catching.

"shit. that's what i like to hear."

he leaned in and sucked your clit hard, fingers speeding up, and that was it.

you came like a wave crashing over everything, loud and hot and pulsing around his fingers. he didn't stop. not even as you shook, not even when you whimpered his name like a prayer, overstimulated and shaking. he just kept going, licking you through it like he couldn't get enough, like he was starving for it.

"good girl," he murmured, finally pulling his mouth away. "so fuckin' pretty when y'fall apart."

you were still gasping, still twitching slightly, and before you could recover, he sat up and grabbed your hips.

"c'mere."

you blinked, dazed, barely registering as he tugged you up until you were straddling his face.

"chris—"

"sit," he growled, hands gripping your ass, forcing you to lower onto him. "m'not done with you yet."

your knees shook, thighs already sore, but you obeyed, slowly sinking down until your cunt was against his mouth again.

he groaned like it was heaven.

he started eating you out like he hadn't just made you cum thirty seconds ago. messy. loud. tongue fucking into you while his nose bumped your clit with every movement.

you tried to lift yourself, overwhelmed, but his grip on your thighs was firm.

"uh-uh," he said, mouth full. "stay. sit on my face like the good fuckin' girl you are."

you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair as he dragged another orgasm out of you, rough and fast. you couldn't even process the pleasure—just shaking, crying out, grinding down against his tongue because you couldn't stop yourself.

when he finally pulled back, lips slick, chin wet, he looked ruined. in the best way.

"mhm. look at you," he panted, staring up at you like he was addicted. "drippin' all over me. fuck."

you barely had the strength to move, but chris wasn't done yet.

he flipped you back onto the bed and kissed you hard—hot, possessive, tongue sliding into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.

"need t'fuck you," he said into your mouth, hands already unzipping his jeans. "gonna stretch you out so good, baby."

"please," you whimpered, already aching. "need it. need you."

he growled, guiding himself to your entrance and pushing in slow.

"fuck—so wet. all from beggin' f'me, huh?"

you gasped, arching into him, legs wrapping around his waist.

he started fucking you hard—deep, sharp thrusts that made your eyes roll back. his hand slid under your thigh, lifting it higher to get deeper, and you cried out, clutching at his arms.

"chris—fuck—so good—"

"yeah?" he gritted, fucking you harder. "say it again."

"so good," you sobbed. "feels so good, chris—please, don't stop."

he didn't. he just pounded into you, pushing you right to the edge again, murmuring filth into your ear.

"look at you. all dumb for my dick. think ya' earned it now, beggin' so pretty f'me?"

you nodded, body breaking open under him.

"cum f'me," he said, voice ragged. "wan' feel you squeeze me again."

you shattered around him, loud and raw and messy. and chris followed with a deep groan, burying himself inside you as he came, holding you close like he never wanted to let go.

and when it was done—when you were both breathless and wrecked—he kissed your shoulder, smug smile creeping back onto his lips.

"see?" he whispered, brushing his nose against your neck. "all y'had to do was say please."

author's note. love love love this.

taglist. @sugarraez @eyesonmattyb ꒱ ₊˚⊹ .ᐟ

to be added to my taglist, please refer to this post.

[sillysturns]

𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒗𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓? - 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

...in which matt finds your vibrator in your bedside table and cant help but use it on himself

cw: SUBBB!matt, vibrator, masturbating duh, cum, overstimming, someone walking in..

HEYY GUYS i wrote "part 2" except i put both parts together so it was a full fic, enjoy the extended version!!

Matt wasn’t snooping. He was looking for a pen. At least, that’s what he told himself when he opened your dresser drawer.

He hadn’t expected to find that.

For a second, he just stared at it—smooth, matte, tucked beside a folded hoodie and a phone charger. His face went hot immediately, but his eyes didn’t leave it. He shut the drawer. Then opened it again.

It wasn’t even hidden that well.

He glanced toward the door, knowing you were home, but busy in a meeting. The silence in your apartment felt heavier now, like it was daring him to take it.

Matt bit his lip, sitting on the edge of your bed. Curiosity buzzed through his fingertips. “You’re insane,” he muttered to himself, laughing under his breath as he reached into the drawer and picked it up.

It was... heavier than he expected. He turned it over in his hand, feeling ridiculous and intrigued all at once. The silicone was soft, the color a pastel pink that made it look deceptively innocent.

His thumb hovered over the power button. Then he pressed it.

A soft hum filled the air.

He jumped slightly. Then laughed at himself. “Jesus,” he whispered.

The vibration was steady, gentle—but strong. His curiosity bloomed into something else, something warmer.

His breath caught as he let it rest against the side of his neck for a moment, shivering from how oddly sensitive he was there. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that, was it? Or maybe it was—he wouldn’t know. He’d never actually used one of these before. And definitely not someone else’s.

That thought made his stomach twist. He should stop. He really should. But the soft hum in his hand and the low, building heat in his body made it hard to think straight.

Matt lay back on your bed slowly, the vibrator still buzzing softly in his palm. The scent of you was all over your blanket, your pillow—he swore he could feel your presence lingering in the fabric. It made his heart thump in a way he wasn’t ready to unpack.

With a shaky breath, he ran it lightly down the center of his chest, through his shirt. His abs clenched at the sensation. He dragged it lower, over the waistband of his sweatpants, just hovering. Testing. His thighs tensed as he shifted, trying to ignore the flush crawling up his neck.

And then he gave in.

Matt eased the vibrator beneath the band of his sweats, not even touching himself directly yet—just letting the buzz tease him through the fabric of his boxers. His hips twitched slightly, and a low, involuntary sound slipped from his throat. “F–fuck,” he whispered, shocked at the intensity.

It felt way too good for something so simple. His head fell back against your pillow. He let it sit there, just resting, his breathing going shallow as the sensation started to build, heavy and tight in his gut. His hand flexed. His legs tensed. His mind emptied.

His fingers slid beneath his boxers, and this time, there was nothing between him and the heat.

The second the vibrator pressed directly against him, Matt jerked, a sound punching out of his chest—somewhere between a gasp and a moan, breathless and surprised. His eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping the sheets while the other kept the toy steady against himself.

It was too much. In the best, most shamefully addictive way.

His hips bucked slightly, instinctive, like his body was trying to chase the feeling before his mind could catch up. He was already embarrassingly hard, the vibration pulsing through him, deep and steady and so much better than his hand ever could be.

He bit his lip, trying to muffle the sounds threatening to escape. But every time he shifted, every tiny movement, the pressure changed just enough to send a new wave of heat rushing down his spine. 

You weren’t supposed to know. God, if you walked in— That made it worse. Made it hotter. His muscles tensed, thighs tightening. He let out uncontrollable whimpers, eyes widened in surprise at how absurdly quick it was pushing him to the edge.

The tension coiled low in his stomach, fast and sharp and absolutely unstoppable. His head tipped back against the pillow, mouth falling open as his body began to twitch. His hand moved faster, pressing the vibrator more firmly now, chasing the edge.

“I—I’m gonna—”

His voice broke. His body arched, back fully of the bed.

And then— He came. Hard. Too hard.

His hips stuttered, a whiny noise escaping him as everything unraveled. His mind blanked, vision flashing white behind his eyelids. Heat surged through his veins like wildfire. He gasped through it, every nerve lit up.

The toy buzzed in his hand. He couldn’t move yet.

Just... lay there. Boneless. Chest heaving.

Matt lay there for a long moment, chest rising and falling, sweat cooling on his skin. The vibrator had slipped from his hand, buzzing weakly against the blanket. His brain felt like soup—warm, stunned, and guilty.

But not guilty enough.

Because the thought of you walking in, seeing him like this… The idea didn’t stop the heat from stirring again. If anything, it sparked it right back to life. He felt himself immediately reharden.

He glanced at the toy.

His fingers twitched.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

This time, he didn’t bother keeping his boxers on. His hand was surer, less hesitant. The vibrator buzzed back to life like it knew what he was about to do again. He bit back a smirk, eyes fluttering shut as he settled it against himself again—raw, sensitive, and already halfway there just from the thrill.

It was different now. No hesitation. Just need. He hissed at the contact, hips twitching up. He trailed it up the base of his cock then to the tip, swiping the precrum to lubricate it, then fondling his balls at the same time.

His body shivered from the overstimulation, but he kept going, gasping, grinding against the toy with shameless abandon.

And then—

The door clicked.

“Hey, I forgot my—”

Your voice stopped. So did Matt.

His head snapped toward you, eyes wide, pupils blown. The vibrator was still on, still pressed to him. His hand fumbled, panic overtaking lust, but it was too late. You were standing there. Frozen. Your keys still dangling from your fingers.

He looked pathetic —shirt half-pushed up, boxers down, legs splayed, chest heaving, face red. And dick fully hard, upright, and shiny.

“…hi,” he said weakly, voice cracking.

You blinked. Stared. Said absolutely nothing.

The vibrator buzzed loudly in the silence.

“Are you using my vibrator?”

The audacity.

Your jaw dropped slightly, a laugh nearly escaping, but you bit it back. Partly because you were stunned. And partly because… okay, fine, the image in front of you was absurdly hot.

He scrambled to turn the vibrator off, tossing it aside like it had personally betrayed him. “I—I wasn’t—okay, I was—but I didn’t mean to—”

You raised a hand. “Matt.”

He froze.

You took a slow, dangerous step forward, setting your keys on the desk without breaking eye contact. “Did you go through my drawer?”

“…Yes.”

“Did you use my vibrator?”

“…Yes.”

You stared at him for a long beat, letting the weight of the moment settle like heat between your bodies. His face was burning. His chest was still rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon.

Your eyes dropped—slowly—to where the evidence of the first round was all over his thighs.

Then back to his eyes.

“You couldn’t wait for me?” you said, voice low, teasing, dangerous.

He swallowed. “I didn’t know if I was allowed.”

You gave a dry little laugh and leaned against the doorframe. “And now?”

His lips parted like he had something to say—an apology, an excuse, maybe a plea—but all that came out was a helpless little sound as you crossed the room in three steps.

You reached for the vibrator.

Picked it up.

Turned it on.

And then, in the calmest, most casual voice imaginable, said: “Lie back.”

Matt obeyed so fast it was embarrassing. But who could blame him?

He laid back, eyes wide, anticipation written in every line of his body. His legs shifted against the sheets, tension already curling in his gut again.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs, the vibrator buzzing steadily in your hand. You didn’t touch him. Not yet. Just let it hover over his already hardening cock, watching the way his hips lifted slightly—desperate, needy.

“Greedy boy,” you murmured.

He groaned, head pressing into the pillow, fists clenched in the sheets. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.”

The vibrator kissed his skin, and he shuddered. His reaction was instant—back arching, breath catching, his cock twitching under the teasing pulse of it.

“Already sensitive?” you teased, dragging it slowly up the underside, just enough pressure to make him pant.

“You have no idea,” he choked out.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “Good.”

And then you pressed it harder.

His whole body jolted. The moan he let out was filthy—loud, broken, like you’d stolen the air from his lungs. His hips bucked, chasing the friction, but you held him down with one hand on his stomach, making him take it.

“Look at you,” you said, gaze flicking down. “So worked up. And it’s not even me touching you yet.”

“Y–you are,” he panted.

“No,” you said, letting the toy flicker over the head of his cock. “This is.”

He whimpered, legs trembling. You could see the edge building in him again, fast, reckless—he was already so close. You could tell by the way his mouth fell open, the way he reached for your wrist, unsure if he wanted to stop you or beg you to keep going.

“I c–can’t—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop.

He came with a shout, back arched off the bed, thighs shaking under you. It was raw, overwhelming, even louder than before—and this time, he didn’t even try to be quiet. He just let go, whimpering your name like a prayer as the orgasm ripped through him.

You finally turned the vibrator off.

Silence.

Matt collapsed against the mattress, wrecked. Sweaty. Dazed. His hand blindly searched for yours, fingers curling weakly around them. “I—I—nggg.” he mumbled.

You smirked, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Dead?” you ask, nudging his shoulder with your knuckles.

He groans, low and broken. “Dead,” he confirms, voice hoarse. Then, quieter, with a lilt of awe: “That was insane.”

You hum like you’re satisfied, brushing your fingers along the waistband of his boxers where they’ve slipped halfway down his thighs. “I thought you could handle it.”

“I can— just— ngg.”he mumbles, finally peeking at you from under his arm with pink cheeks and eyes that haven’t stopped darting to your mouth since you smiled. “You’re evil.”

You grin wider. “You loved it.”

He doesn’t deny it. Just shifts, slowly—still a bit jelly-legged—and reaches for your wrist. His fingers are a little shaky, but deliberate as they wrap around your arm and tug until you’re laying beside him. Chest to chest.

“I wanna…” he starts, but trails off, eyes flicking down your body and then back up. There’s something so sweet in the way he swallows—like he’s overwhelmed and greedy at once.

“What?” you murmur, brushing some hair off his forehead. He leans into your hand.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses a kiss to your collarbone and breathes you in.

“Wanna make you feel like that,” he says finally. Voice wrecked, a little ragged. “Wanna be the reason you can’t walk right tomorrow.”

You laugh—startled, delighted. “That’s ambitious of you.”

His gaze sharpens a little, mouth tilting in the beginnings of a smirk. “So let me try.”

And when he dips his head, pressing one slow kiss right under your jaw, you let him.

Matt’s fingers trail the vibrator down your body, light and teasing at first, barely brushing your skin through your panties. You arch toward the touch, heart pounding a wild rhythm.

He leans in, eyes locked on yours. “Ready?”

Before you can answer, the vibrator dips lower, slipping under the fabric, settling right where you know it’s going to drive you insane.

Your panties are damp where the toy presses through, soaked in the slick sheen of your arousal, glistening under the soft bedroom light.. When Matt slides the vibrator lower, the fabric clings wetly to your skin, slipping just enough to expose the flush spreading over your inner thighs.

You can feel yourself dripping—warm, slick, and utterly desperate. The vibrating head nudges at your clit, slick with your own wetness, and it’s like electricity sparking through your nerves.

Matt’s fingers rest on your hips, steadying you, but his eyes don’t leave the way your body reacts—the slight arch, the trembling pulse of your thighs, the way your breaths catch unevenly as the wet heat intensifies.

Your folds are swollen, glistening, flushed deep pink, and you can almost taste yourself on your lips as you part them, trying to catch your breath. The slick wetness makes every movement, every touch, smoother, more urgent.

Matt’s mouth trails kisses along your neck, but his gaze is glued to the growing shine between your legs, to the way the vibrator hums against the slickest part of you, sending shivers all the way through your spine.

You’re soaked—more than soaked—and he knows it. He sees it. It’s like the whole room smells of you, sweet and raw and needing.

When the wave finally crashes over you—loud and shuddering and utterly beautiful, Matt doesn’t pull away. He holds you through every tremor, every breathless sigh, his mouth soft and warm against your skin as the last ripples of pleasure settle.

You lie there, tangled, breathless, dripping with satisfaction—and Matt just smiles, brushing a gentle kiss against your thigh.

“Love you, baby.”

the extended portion is lwk buns sorry guys i tried to live up to the first part :((

@sturnbrooke @emely9274 @arianna1342 @gemzyy @namelesssav @chestersturn @ellieluvssturniolos @tits4matt @vanteguccir @luke8989 @matt-sturnioloo @glee2skkii @riggysworld @sturnslux3 @cass-sturn @auttysturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @chrismakesmewet @whore4chris @sturns-mermaid @eeyoresturnz @httpssturns @chrxsprettygirl @bernardsbendystraws @chrisbratt333 @aurorasturnz @iluvchr1s @sturniolosymphony @slvt4subchratt @sturn-ath3na @chrispycremedonut @matts-hersheys-kisses  @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @aka-persephone @ajskorner @matts-wife @beardedbernard @matts-babytomatoes @chrisspussygang @izzylovesmatt @salaciousxsturniolo @sturnsblogs @calsdelusions @whore4-chrissturniolo @chrissdreamgirl @dghhffs-blog @slut4christopherr

comment to be tagged for ALL fics

[sillysturns]

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘'𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄

in which . . . chris fucks you so deep and slow your pussy makes him see stars and bruises his cock. you make him cum hard, cry harder, and maybe break a little. he loves it.

Chris is panting above you, hips stuttering every time you clench down around him. His voice is all breathless whine and ruined laughter, dark lashes fluttering as he tries to keep his eyes on you. Your cunt stretches around him slowly, inch by thick inch, and the second he’s buried deep, you squeeze him so hard his breath catches.

❝Christ—don’t do that,❞ he groans, jaw clenching, flushed lips parted. ❝Feels like you’re going to snap it off.❞ He laughs through it, low and shaky, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. ❝Fuck, ma. Your pussy’s trying to kill me.❞

And he means it. Your walls flutter and pulse around him like they never want to let go, slick and tight and fucking greedy. He’s too big—too thick for how little you are. The size difference makes it almost unbearable. You’re stretched so wide around him that your belly bulges with every deep thrust, and it makes you both a little crazed. Every time he pulls back even a little, you clench again, dragging him back in like you’re starving for it. And maybe you are.

Chris is moaning against your collarbone, face pressed into your shoulder, gritting his teeth while you writhe beneath him, soaked and crying out with every slow, devastating thrust. He’s holding your hips like he’s afraid you’ll slip off his cock, fingers digging hard enough to leave prints. Your bodies slap together in a rhythm that feels almost sacred, thick, wet, and dizzying.

He fucks you like you’re the only girl in the world. Like you’re the only thing that could ever ruin him this well. You don’t even realise you’re crying until he slows down and kisses the wetness off your cheeks. ❝Too much?❞ he asks, voice hoarse. You shake your head frantically, gasping, clawing at his back. ❝No, no, just—keep going. Please, Chris.❞

That wrecks him. He groans, deep and wrecked, eyes fluttering shut as he drives into you again, deeper this time. Slower. Bruising. He hits that spongy part inside you that makes your vision spark white, and you go limp, eyes rolling back. ❝There it is, ma, fuck… right there.❞ He pants, hands tightening. ❝That little spot that makes you go dumb. Feels so fucking good. You’re so fucking tight.❞

You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it drags along your walls, the stretch too much but never enough. Your clit’s aching, your cunt fluttering, soaking him as you cum again, your body seizing up so hard he gasps, his hips twitching from the pressure.

And when he cums? It’s hot, thick, and deep—long, messy ropes that spill into your cunt as he groans into your neck, hips twitching. He doesn’t stop until he’s empty and trembling, body collapsing on top of yours with a soft, shuddering breath.

You’re stretched, aching, and stuffed full. And he’s just as ruined—maybe more. Bruised, breathless, and buried deep inside your tight little pussy that just won’t let him go.

Later, the water’s steaming hot when he pulls you into the shower, both of you boneless and fucked-out. You’re clinging to him like you might fall over—and you might. Your thighs still tremble, and your head feels light, cloudy with afterglow. Chris holds you like he never wants to let you go, one hand cradling the back of your neck, the other stroking your hip.

Then you feel him flinch. ❝Ow—fuck,❞ he winces when the water hits him below the waist. You blink up at him, dazed. ❝What? Did I hurt you?❞ His laugh is hoarse and breathless, chest still rising heavy against yours. ❝Yeah, baby. You definitely did.❞ Your eyes drop, and your jaw goes slack.

His cock is soft now, but still red and thick, flushed a dark, angry pink. The tip is swollen, slick with leftover cum and water. A faint purplish bruise is already forming at the base. ❝Chris!❞ you squeak, stunned. He groans and gives a sheepish smile. ❝You were clenching so hard, I thought I was going to black out. Like… I think you actually broke my dick.❞

You cover your face with your hands, horrified and turned on at the same time. ❝Oh my god. I didn’t mean to—❞ He tugs your hands down gently, kissing your knuckles. ❝Don’t even think about apologising. Worth every second. You’re a fucking menace, and I love it.❞

When he moves again to rinse off, he groans like an old man. You catch the twitch of pain in his jaw. ❝Okay, but… You might actually need ice,❞ you whisper, biting your lip. Chris grins, eyes full of mischief and heat. ❝Only if you kiss it better first.❞

𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 . . .  based on this ask, this is goofy

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 . . .  @chrepsi @ph3ebssturniolo @sturnsxbbyeilish @j21l91 @pip4444chris @mattslutt @sophand4n4 @mattscoquette

⌗ © sturniphone

[sillysturns]

— ᥫ᭡ bottom bitch . . . chris sturniolo

where . . . you're starting to get jealous at all the girls chris hooks up with, even tho the two of your are just bsfs, but when chris catches on after noticing you all pissy after his latest hook-up, he gives you one night to taste what you'd been secretly begging for.

contains . . . smut, fingering, jealousy sex?, squirting, smoking, praising, college au, friends to lovers?

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #4

"Oh fuck! Chris!" A random girl's voice rang out through the door to you and Chris's shared dorm room, the unmistakable sounds of sex clear as day through the hardwood. "Don't stop—! Mmmm—!"

You sighed as you sat out in the hallways, scrolling through your phone as you waited for him to finish up and kick the girl out so you could finally get to your bed and just call it a night after the shitty day you'd had, this just being the cherry on top.

He'd completely forgotten to text you about having someone over, so you were sure it was some random chick with a basic name who was just drooling for his dick till he decided to bring her to his dorm. Thank god the obscene noises were clear enough through the door before you turned it so that you stopped yourself from seeing that shit.

"Oh my godd— You're dick is sooo good, Chris— I'm gonna cum—!" You groaned at the stereotypical, porno voice she had, like nails on the goddamn chalkboard to your unfortunate ears.

"That's it baby, yeah— Cum on this dick—" Now that voice, you could listen to it for fucking hours. You'd never fully heard Chris during the few times you overheard his sex, mostly due to the girl trying to upstage him like it was hot to hear a wailing banshee or some shit, but when you did, god, did it sound like heaven.

The way he'd groan from the pleasure, his little grunts and pants coming through in time with his audible thrusts, the way he'd talk dirty to the girls like some wet dream come to life, the way he'd—

"Chris!" There it is, wailing banshee yet again. Thankfully, despite having to listen to that god awful sound, you knew it was the finish line, just a couple more moments for the girl to get her shit back on and scurry out of the dorm as if anyone would care if they saw her.

The moment she'd almost stumbled past you, an almost judgmental look on her face that you matched with a glare as she passed by, you finally walked into your dorm room, spotting Chris laying spread out on his bed. His boxers were pulled up though a little loose as you could practically see the base of his happy trail, his chest rose and fell in breaths he was still trying to calm, his hair a disheveled mess, and lipstick kiss marks messily scattered his toned skin.

He looked like a god damn dream that you just wanted to sink your teeth into, but as you remembered just why he was in this state, you shook yourself from your thoughts, huffing as you walked over to your closet.

"Sorry 'bout no heads up, she barely gave me a second before tossing me into bed," He explained, chuckling as he flicked his lighter at the end of a joint he'd grabbed, breathing in the smoke before blowing it back out to curl up into the air. "Fuckin' tiger, I tell ya,"

You didn't respond to him, rolling your eyes to yourself as you tugged off your jacket and hung it up, taking off all of your jewelry and placing them all in their respective places. He'd noticed your silent demeanor, raising an eyebrow before sitting up in his bed, his legs dangling over the side as he tilted his head at you.

"You pissed at me or somethin'? I said I was sorry about the head's up," He asked, making you sigh as you weren't given a choice other than to answer him as to not be seen as the dick in this situation.

"'M fine," You muttered, your hands coming down to grip the hem of your shirt before tugging it up over your head, having gotten used to changing in front of Chris. But he knew all too damn well that you weren't just 'fine,' a scoff leaving him before he pushed himself up and off of his bed, his eyes subtly tracing over your figure from behind.

You tried to pay no attention to him as he approached you, but the feel of his warm hands on your sides made you shiver instantly and stiffen a bit. "Now I know your ass is lying to me," Chris murmured to you, his hand that held the joint only letting that thumb draw small circles on your hip as to not risk burning you. "You gotta tell me what's peeving you, ma."

You let the silence hang for a moment longer, willing yourself not to be affected by how he touched you or looked at you or talked to you, but fuck, did it feel good. You finally sighed as you crossed your arms, your eyes glancing away from where he peaked over your shoulder at you.

"I just, don't know what you see in those chicks," You mutter out, glancing at him as he smirked, as if knowing something you didn't.

"Someone's soundin' jealous," He teased you without a beat, chuckling at the way you turned your head to glare at him, his hands lifting up in mock surrender. "'M just sayin', ma–"

"'M not jealous. Why would I be jealous of some wailing banshee in my room?" You huffed out, making him perk up a little before smirking.

"Oh yeah? That's what you think of them?"

"I mean, what else do they sound like?"

"Like girls who are having the best fuckin' night with me," Chris grinned, noticing the way you looked away from him again, letting the silence ring out, before he let an idea strike him.

"Alright, how 'bout.. I make it up to you for leaving you outside to hear all of that," His voice was lower in your ear now, alluring and warm, as you felt his hands slowly undoing the button and zipper to your pants, before he whispered in your ear. "And you show me what a gorgeous girl should really sound like..."

You should protest, you should just push him off and continue being pissed and just go to bed, but as your countless fantasies about him filled your head, you just couldn't say no to this. You let out a shaky breath before turning your head to him. "Fine.."

You watched the way his signature grin tugged at his lips, his eyes running over your face before landing on your lips. "Atta girl," He whispered, liking the way your breath hitched softly before he leaned in to press his lips against yours, gentle, sweet, as if to give you the option to back out, and yet you didn't.

You melted into the kiss as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your pants before tugging them down, letting them drop to the floor around your ankles, his hands sliding back up your sides as you mouths slowly moved together. Goosebumps rose on your skin before you slowly turned your body fully to him, your hands touching his chest before sliding up to cup his jaw.

Your back arched into him as his hands slowly hugged around your waist, pulling you closer into him as his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, gladly entering your mouth as you parted them for him. As the kiss started to heat up into a make out, you felt as Chris tugged you back to the bed, your steps a little messy as you were too lost in the kiss to care.

You felt your back hit the mattress of his bed as he climbed over you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he settled between your spread legs, your kissing heavy and messy, almost desperate now practically chased each other's mouths like you were the last people on earth.

You let out a soft, needy sound as he pulled from the kiss, one that made him grin down at you all smug whilst you glared and felt blush creep up your neck. His lips pressed a kiss to your jaw, slowly trailing down to your neck as you lay your head back, giving him more exposed skin. You felt as his hands crept behind your back, unhooking your bra before tugging it off of you and tossing it to the floor.

"Fuck... Didn't know you had such perfect tits," He smirked, his thumbs coming up to tease over your already stiffened nipples, making a shiver run up your spine before you let out a soft whimper.

Your hips subtly rocked up involuntarily, making your feel the hard bulge in Chris's boxers, stars practically spotting your eyes at just the prospect of what lie underneath the fabric.

"Fuckin' eager, huh?" Chris chuckled, though he couldn't help the way his cock twitched at the action, making him needy to pleasure you just like he promised. His lips kissed back up your neck before meeting yours in another kiss. "Need these off.."

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down before pulling them fully off, tossing them where your bra already lay, his fingers teasing over your inner thighs to feel you squirm before delving between your folds, a groan leaving him against your lips.

"Jesus, you're fuckin' wet— You this excited f'me, baby?" He cooed teasingly.

"Shut up.." But your words were hardly harsh, a needy whine spilling from your lips as his fingers gathered up your juices before rubbing at your throbbing clit, pleasure rushing through your body at his touch. "Fuck.. Chris.." You whimpered, noticing the way you whined his name made his hips twitch in need, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.

"You like that, ma..?" He whispered against your lips, grinning as your hips started to rock into his hand, chasing that pleasure as his fingers drew firm circles on your clit, your head nodding as you whimpered. "Yeah, I know you do," He teased.

You huffed as his fingers stopped, about to tell him to keep going, before your suddenly felt him slipping his fingers into your drooling cunt, a gasp leaving your lips at the way his fingers felt thicker and — fuck — so much longer than yours.

Your mind went fuzzy as he started pumping his finger in and out of your pussy, the soft, squelching noises making your toes curl and a whine fall from your lips, your hands digging your nails into his back a bit as he pressed sweet kisses to your jawline and face.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed, smiling against your cheek as you whined out a pretty "yes" in response, his eyes looking over your face, all pink and cute, eyes half lidded and fluttering at the pleasure, soft pink lips parted as soft pants left you.

"F-fuck— Chris—" You whimpered as he sped up his fingers, the sloppy noises getting slightly louder at his quickened pace. Panting breaths left your lips as pleasure bloomed throughout your body, when suddenly, you felt as his free hand slid down underneath your knee and hiked it up, a gasp leaving your lips as his fingers plunged harder.

"That's it, mama, that's it–" He groaned softly against your cheek, hearing as your panting quickened, a sound he knew all too well with girls, his fingers keeping that delicious quick pace at this deeper angle.

"'M close— I-I'm gonna cum—" You whined out, your nails digging crescents into the skin of Chris's back, feeling your toes curl at the burning pleasure that threatened to push you over the edge.

"Yeah? C'mon mama, cum for me, wanna see how pretty you looking coming undone," He groaned against your jawline, nipping at the skin there before he rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at his fingers pumping your cunt whilst his other hand pushed your thigh up just a bit higher.

And suddenly, it was as if your vision went white, your mouth falling open in a gasped moan, your back arching as you felt your orgasm crash over you harder than you'd ever felt in your life, pure and utter ecstasy burning throughout your body as you moan out gorgeously, eyes rolled back and nails clawing at Chris's back.

Your leg trembled and twitched in Chris's grip as his fingers rode you through your high, your chest sputtering up and down as your breathing was shaky, your mind fuzzy as you gushed all over Chris's fingers. You barely comprehend what had happened until you heard Chris's voice cut through your blissful haze.

"Holy shit— I didn't know you could fuckin' squirt like that," He chuckled, your brows furrowing in confusion before you lifted your head, your eyes widening at the wet mess that was his sheets and his fingers, blush blooming on your cheeks out for embarrassment that Chris caught into quick.

"Ma, you've– you've never fuckin' squirted before?" He asked, near awe in his voice as he chuckled at the way you tried to hide behind your hands, his ego being inflated by knowing that he was the one to make you squirt for the first time.

"Shut up!" You squeaked out, unable to not giggle a little as he tugged your hands away with his free hand, peppering your face with kisses.

"That's so fuckin' hot, baby," He murmured against your skin, addicted to the way you giggled, before his hips pressed against your thigh, reminding him of his still hard cock, now begging for attention.

You felt his fingers slip from your cunt, whimpering at the loss and at watching him lick them clean with a groan, before his hands moved down to tug down the waistband of his boxers, his cock springing out, thick and heavy, his tip a flushed pink as pre-cum leaked.

Your eyes widening at the sight, your cunt fluttering with interest as you felt arousal filling you once more, before looking up at his face, his eyes lustful and dark, a smirk on his gorgeous lips.

"You up for another round, ma?"

☆ : this is currently not proofread cause i just wrote most of it in the car, Im on a trip that I ain't even know about until yesterday 😭 so im so sorry if this seems rushed, I really liked this idea and hope I executed it good for all of you <33 anyways, i think they're cute asf-

taglist 🏷️

[sillysturns]

ׅ ⊹ㅤwarning;ㅤsmut, student x substitute teacher dynamic, fingering, riding, praise kink (heavy teasing/flirting), office setting, size kink, midly rough, creampie

where . . . You’ve been teasing your substitute teacher all week—flirty glances, drawn-out questions, bending rules just enough to stay out of real trouble.

He finally calls you out after class, locking the door behind you with that usual, amused calm. You expected a scolding… not for things to unravel on his lap.

“Eyes up here.”

His voice lands like a soft command, calm and knowing. You’re caught—again—gazing down at the loose line of buttons on his shirt, where a hint of skin peeks through. You hadn’t meant to stare, but there’s something about him—about Matt—that pulls your eyes before your brain can stop them.

You blink and lift your gaze, cheeks already warm, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I was just… looking.”

Matt raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he leans back slightly against the desk. “You sure? Looked like you were about to start drooling.” A hand flies to your chest, dramatically. “Was not,” you say, then add with a grin, “Maybe a little.”

He chuckles, something low and velvety, and begins to move around you—slow steps that feel unhurried but intentional. As he closes the distance between you both, he reaches to shut the office blinds, then twists the lock on the door with a soft click. The room dims, warmth blooming in the space between you. Your heart picks up. This is no longer casual.

“You’re a bold one,” he murmurs, his tone still light, but with an edge that makes your stomach twist in anticipation. “Or just curious?”

You tilt your head coyly, voice soft. “Can’t it be both?”

When he turns back around, his eyes settle on you like he’s making a decision. Then, with a small crook of his finger, he gestures you forward. When you reach him, his hands find your hips—firm, warm, and sure. He slowly spins you around, guiding your back gently against his chest. His touch never rushes. One slips around your waist, the other skimming down your thigh as he sits back into his chair, pulling you with him until you’re perched on his lap, back nestled fully to his chest.

His voice brushes your ear, calm and almost affectionate. “There. That’s better.”

You hum, adjusting slightly to the shape of him under you—already hard, thick, and pressing hot against the curve of your ass. You bite your bottom lip, shifting subtly as if you’re trying not to make it obvious. But you both know it’s intentional.

He groans quietly, a hand curling around your thigh. “You don’t even try to hide it.

“Why should I?” you murmur, leaning back just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. “You like it.” He looks down at you “I definitely do,” he admits, mouth brushing your skin.

His hand slides slowly between your thighs, stroking lightly over your inner skin, teasing. You gasp softly, shifting your legs open without needing to be asked. He drags his fingers up the front of your panties—already soaked—then hooks one side and gently pulls the fabric aside. You feel cool air brush your folds, your hips jerking subtly as he hums behind you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging two fingers through your slick. “Already so wet, sweetheart.”

You make a soft sound in your throat, pressing back into him more fully as his other arm wraps around your waist. His fingers stroke through your folds again, this time slower, more intentional. When he finally pushes one finger inside, you choke on a breath—his touch is just deep enough to make your thighs tremble.

“Matt—”

“You take me so well,” he whispers, fingers working you open gently. “You like this, don’t you?”

Your head falls back to his shoulder, lips parting. “I—y-yeah, I—”

He presses a second finger in beside the first, and you arch, hips lifting slightly in his lap. His hand tightens at your waist, keeping you anchored while his fingers begin to move—slow, smooth pumps that send little sparks ricocheting through your belly. Your walls flutter around him, soaking his fingers, your thighs trembling.

“You’re perfect like this,” he breathes, his voice thick against your ear. “Such a pretty messy...oh god”

You clutch at the arms of the chair, grinding softly down against his hand, every nerve alight with want. His palm brushes your clit with each thrust, your breath catching as your thighs try to close—he stops that with a gentle nudge.

“Don’t hide from me now,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart.”

You feel your body tensing, slick dripping down onto his palm, your breath turning to broken gasps. Just before you break, he pulls his fingers out slow, dragging them back over your clit once more before releasing you, his free hand already curling around your hips.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

A beat later, you’re turned to face him—chest to chest—as he sinks lower into the chair. You rise onto your knees above him while he strokes himself slowly, guiding the head of his cock between your folds. The stretch is immediate. You gasp, grabbing his shoulders, fingers digging in.

“Fuck,” you whimper, hips trembling as you start to lower down. “You’re— nghh...haah– oh my God...i- c- can't—”

He slides in inch by inch, and it’s a lot—thick, hot, impossibly deep. Your walls flutter trying to accommodate him, clenching around every inch he gives you. Your knees shake slightly as your thighs spread wider, struggling to take him fully.

“fuckfuck– take it,” he murmurs, voice rough now, hand flat on your lower back, the other splayed across your hip, steadying you. “ngh—c’mon, baby—just like that—”

When your hips finally meet his, you feel stretched wide, impossibly full. You exhale a shaky moan, burying your face against his neck, lips brushing his skin as you try to catch your breath.

“Feels like...you were made for me,” he mutters, pressing kisses to your jaw. “"oh, baby—baby, so tight—.”

Your fingers tangle in the collar of his shirt as you begin to move, slow at first—testing the angle, adjusting to the drag of him inside you. His cock fills you so perfectly that you can feel every ridge, every pulse, each motion scraping along all the right places. His arms wrap around you, anchoring you to him like he’s afraid to let you go.

You ride him with your arms around his shoulders, chest pressed to his, breath mingling as your pace builds. His hands stay on you—one guiding your hips in rhythm, the other slipping up to cradle the back of your head as he presses his mouth to yours again and again.

“You’re doing so good,” he breathes into your skin. “Just like that.”

Every time you sink back down, he meets you with an upward thrust, deeper and rougher now, chasing the pleasure that’s building between your thighs. You whine into his neck, clenching tighter around him with each pass, your skin damp and flushed.

“Matt— f- uck... nghh– ah! I’m gonna—” you gasp, voice high and shaking.

You fall apart in his lap, trembling around him as he fucks you through it, whispering praise against your skin until he follows—hips jerking up, cock buried deep, spilling inside you with a groan that echoes off the office walls.

You go still in his arms, both of you breathless, wrapped around each other like you’ve got nowhere else to be. The air is thick with heat, your skin tingling from the aftershock.

Eventually, you lean back just far enough to meet his eyes again—still dazed, your lips swollen, cheeks flushed.

“So…” you pant, lips quirking into a smile, “do I still get detention?”

Matt exhales a quiet laugh, brushing your hair back from your face, fingers curling loosely at the nape of your neck.

“You just earned straight A’s sweetheart.”

ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ꒰ㅤ@ RiNSAEㅤ꒱ㅤㅤdo not work or copyㅤㅤ⊹ㅤㅤwhat else can matt do?

[sillysturns]

your presence — chris sturniolo

pairing: perv!chris x bsf!reader

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

it was never supposed to happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

but you knew what chris was doing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s so fucking embarrassed.

gif credits: @vxnitra

credits to whoever made this au idk who made it!

[sillysturns]

I'm just a girl… I'm alone, on my own. No one wanted to play with me as a little kid, nobody ever lets me in. Something different bloomed writing in my room. I see the great escape, I play my songs in the parking lot just to learn that my dreams aren't rare. Maybe I'm just a girl on a mission but I'm ready to fly in the angel's city, chasing fortune and fame. No one in my small town thought I'd meet these suits in L.A. and the camera flashes make it look like a dream. The kind of radiance you only have at 17, making my own name, chasing that fame. The crown is stained, but you're the real queen selling dreams, selling make up and magazines and your secrets end up splashed on the news front page. No cameras catch my pageant smile and my cheeks are growing tired from turning red and faking smiles. They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" and I did. Cause ladies always rise above, so I became the butt of the joke. Talk your talk and go viral 'cause, baby, I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me. Crowd goes wild at her fingertips but there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west. I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. I was in the alley surrounded on all sides. Brought a knife to a gunfight. I looked around in a blood-soaked gown and tried to tell the town. You said the gun was mine, so they filled my cell with snakes. They say I did something bad then tell me I'm despicable. People look at me like I'm a monster. Now they're screaming that they hate. I can feel the flames on my skin, and you find something to wrap your noose around. They're burning all the witches even if you aren’t one. So light me, and if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too. So I leap from the gallows, and I levitate down your street. I didn't want to have to haunt you but I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined. They say, "move on", but all I think about is karma. I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze tell me what are my words worth. My pennies made your crown. You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. The knife cuts both ways, look at how my tears ricochet. Them's the breaks, they don't come gently. It still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, and I can go anywhere I want just not home. He's got my past frozen behind glass but I've got me. I’m still on that trapeze. I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me. Lights, camera, bitch smile. I can still make the whole place shimmer. I pushed each boulder up the hill, climbed right back up the cliff 'cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned. Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here. Always risin' from the ashes 'cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this. And at last she knew what the agony had been for. I built a legacy that you can't undo. Long story short, I survived. You're on your own, kid. You always have been.

[sillysturns]

shy!reader gets stuck in her own head and struggles to finish while having sex with fratboy!chris—he's not too fond of that.

you've been straddling chris for almost fifteen minutes, his cock stretching your tender walls and filling your guts—a position so rare to happen that you're shocked he even allowed it to happen.

your hips rock in a unsteady rhythm, clammy palms pressed to his chest for balance as he throbs inside of you, stroking all the sensitive spots deep within yet you struggle to reach that specific spot that makes you come undone so quickly.

it does feel good, and the pleasure builds gradually, tightening that familiar knot in your tummy—but it's not enough, you're struggling to surrender yourself to the overwhelming sensations that zap up your spine.

sweat beads across your brow from exertion, and a pained whimper leaves your lips as your sensitive inner muscles flutter around him. the sound catches chris' attention, and his brow furrows in annoyance as he watches you struggle through hazy, bloodshot eyes.

"the fuck's goin' on?" he drawls, his grip tightening on your hips to halt your movements.

"i can't... can't... s'not working," you mewl through pants, trying to move your hips to get that friction back, but he keeps a firm hold on your body. "it feels good but i.. i don't know what i'm doing wrong..."

"what?" he's glaring at you this time, and the embarrassment along with a tinge of disappointment creeps in, making your face feel hot as you tear your gaze away from his shyly. "you—you can't cum? are you fuckin'—"

"m'trying—i'm really trying!" you cry out desperately, absolutely mortified now that you're unable to do something so simple. "i promise i'm trying..."

chris huffs, his annoyance and frustration clear as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, continuing to glare up at you.

"you're the one who begged to sit on my dick," he mutters with a scoff. "guess you can't handle what you fuckin' asked for."

when he releases your hips, you almost certain he's about to demand you to get off of him—to leave you high and dry. it panics you, and you tighten yourself around him, knees pressing into his sides and cunt clamping down on his cock to prevent yourself from moving.

he hisses at that, "fuck—easy, kid. shit."

his hands find your hips once again, and you relax a little, a quiet moan bubbling at the back of your throat as he surprisingly guides you into a new rhythm, the wet, squelchy sounds filling the room.

"ride me like this, yeah? nice 'n slow. focus on takin' me. squeeze your lil' pussy around me," he speaks, demonstrating the motion himself as he sets a steady and unhurried pace, lazily pushing his hips up into yours. "'n for fuck sake, stop overthinkin' it."

you nod your head slowly, teeth gnawing down on your plush bottom lip as you obediently follow chris' instructions, focusing on each thrust as you sink down onto his cock and roll your hips.

your inner muscles ripple around him, responding to the newfound pleasure, and throughout the steady movements, your breathing begins to grow heavier. a sheen of sweat glistens across your skin, and your nipples harden into stiff pebbles, your hands loosening against his chest as the tension in your body begins to ease up.

"like this...?" you ask quietly, voice shaky with effort as you glance down at him. "am i doing okay?"

chris grunts in response, his fingers digging into the meaty skin of your hips as he guides you. "yeah... jus' keep goin'."

you continue to move, the coil within you wounding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. you're struggling to hold yourself up now, overwhelmed by the intense sensations swirling around in your tummy, and you slump forward, breasts flush against chris' chest as you land on him.

chris splutters as some of your hair brushes against his lips, shaking his head and using his fingers to get rid of the locks before curling his hand around the back of your neck to keep you still, bucking his hips upward to drive his cock into your gushing cunt.

you freeze above him, your body taunt and face contorting in a mix of pleasure and anguish as his hips slam against your sensitive clit. the tears stream down your cheeks as you teeter on the edge of your climax, your fingernails digging into his biceps as you hold him tightly.

with a choked sob, your body finally gives in—pussy clamping down around chris like a vice, pulsating as your orgasm crashes over you heavily, trembling and shivering above him as liquid gushes out of your well-fucked hole.

chris curses under his breath, tightening his arms around you as he thrusts up once more, burying himself to the hilt as hot spurts of cum fills your insides, coating his own cock and spilling out onto his thighs.

"fuck... get off me," chris grunts, his hands pushing at your body and you slide off him, collapsing beside him on the bed spent.

you're panting heavily, vision blurry as you watch him lift himself up on his elbows, his gaze dropping down to his cock, staring at the sticky mess on his softening cock that's smearing against his thigh.

"maybe you should stick to gettin' fucked instead of tryin' to ride me," chris mutters, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he turns his head, eyeing his cum leaking from your pussy before his gaze darts up to meet yours. "'cos lets be real, kid. you're not built for this shit."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[sillysturns]

⇢ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄

⚸ audio

the voice note starts and it’s already heavy—wet fabric shifting, skin dragging, and matt’s breath coming in short, desperate little gasps.

"shit—fuck, fuck, baby…"

his voice is all shaky, like he didn’t mean to hit record but couldn’t stop himself. you hear the faint sound of the hoodie beneath him, soft cotton rubbing against skin as he ruts down into it—again and again—like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

"feels s’good, i c-can’t—fuck, you left this here and i—i’m fuckin’—fuckin’ humping it like a loser…"

he lets out a moan, high and broken. his thighs slap against the bed. you can hear it—how soaked the fabric is, how wrecked his cock sounds sliding through it. he’s panting like he’s been going at it for way too long.

"smells like you. smells so fuckin’ good, i’m—i’m gonna fuckin’ cum if you keep—if you keep textin’ me like that, sendin’ those photos, you know what you’re doin’, you knew i’d lose it—"

a sharp whimper breaks out of him. you can picture it now—his face buried in your hoodie, back arched, grinding into the bundle like it’s your cunt. there’s a wet squelch as his cock presses harder into the soaked fabric, and he gasps.

"fuck—fuckfuckfuck, m’so close—feels like you, swear it does, i wanna be inside you so bad, wanna cum all over your tummy, your thighs, i’d do anything—anything for you right now, please let me—"

he’s babbling. incoherent, breathless, just gone. it’s all instinct now. his hips stutter. he whines deep in his throat, broken and needy.

"m’gonna cum, baby—m’gonna—fuck, i love you, i fuckin’ love you—"

and then he cums. hard. you can hear it—the wet drag, his breath catching, the soft curse that falls from his lips like a cry. the hoodie muffles his voice as he groans into it, hips grinding down even as he finishes, desperate for just a second longer of that feeling.

he’s quiet after. just breathing. you hear the faint squish of the fabric soaked through. his voice, low and trembling, slips out like he forgot the mic was still on:

"fuck… i need you so bad."

then the audio ends.

a/n: 😛

find my masterlist here

🏷 @owensbabygirl @sturniolohohoho @drewswife @megameatymatt @cayleeuhithinknott @courta13 @overlygoin @httpssturns @sweeethrt @ariheartsmatt @k4urltzx @briizysturn @y2kstarr @chriscantwhisper @tezzzzzzzz @adorechris @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @k4urltzx @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka @grrrrcherries  @matts-wife @thicknick19 @slvtf0rchr1s @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @slut4chrisloads @lyingbymalcom @sturniolo1trips @chrissbxby @alexisa78

© zenithsturniolo

[sillysturns]

⋆˙⟡ ۶ৎ 📞 BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK? I MISS YOU . . .

in which . . . you and matt get into an argument over the phone while he’s away for tour. matt calls you again hours later, apologizing and letting you know how much he misses you.

warnings . . . phone sex, mutual masturbation, degradation, dirty talk, arguing, angst, sexual descriptions, cursing, matt talking you through it.

written by @delilahsturniolo, do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the call starts out fine. he’s in some city you can’t remember the name of. maybe denver. or dallas. it doesn’t matter. he’s not here. he hasn’t been for weeks. you’re curled up on your bed, wearing his hoodie, one of the only things that still smells like him. it’s past midnight and the video call glitches when he answers. he looks tired. his hair’s messy. he’s got a water bottle in one hand and his phone in the other, held up under his chin like he can’t be bothered to try. “hey,” he says, voice scratchy from the show “hey,” you reply, quiet.

he talks about the crowd, about his travels, all that stuff. you nod. smile where it feels appropriate. but something’s off, he doesn’t ask about your day. doesn’t notice the dark circles under your eyes or the way your voice shakes a little when you talk. and you’re already too close to the edge to let it slide. you miss him, so damn much. “do you even care how i am?” you blurt. matt pauses. “what?”

“you didn’t ask. not once.” your voice cracks. “i’ve been trying so hard to be cool about this, matt, but i feel like i’m dating a fucking ghost.” his jaw tightens. “that’s not fair.”

“neither is the fact that i haven’t seen you in a month and the best i get is a ten-minute facetime where you talk more about the food you ate than me.”

“i’m working,” he says, sharper now. “this isn’t a vacation. i’m exhausted.”

“and i’m lonely!” you snap, tears brimming. “but that doesn’t matter, right? because as long as you’re doing your thing, i’m just supposed to shut up and deal with it.”

he goes quiet. his face darkens. “i can’t do this right now,” he mutters. “of course not,” you say bitterly. “you never can.” then he hangs up. your phone screen goes black and the room suddenly feels colder. you don’t cry. not at first. you just sit there, staring at the screen, fists clenched, chest burning with anger and heartbreak. you toss your phone on the bed, crawl under the covers, and try to pretend you’re not falling apart.

two hours pass.

then, your phone buzzes, you don’t look right away. but then the screen lights up again. matt calling, your heart stutters. you answer. neither of you says anything for a few seconds. then his voice…low, rough, soft in the dark.

“i’m sorry.”

you breathe out slowly. “me too.”

“i shouldn’t have hung up. that was a dick move.”

“i shouldn’t have picked a fight,” you whisper. “i just… miss you so bad it hurts.” he exhales. “i know, baby. i miss you too. like fucking crazy.” silence. then, more quietly…

“can i tell you something?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“i—i just…i needed to hear your voice again.”

your breath catches.

“been laying in this hotel bed thinking about you. thinking about how mad you looked. even that turned me on.” his voice dips, husky now. “you know what that does to me, don’t you?”you squirm under your blankets. “what?”

“the way your voice sounds when you’re mad. the way your lips pout when you’re frustrated. i kept picturing you walking away from the phone, pacing in my hoodie, no pants on, just those little shorts that ride up when you sit…fuck.” your body heats instantly.

“matt…”

“i know, baby. i know. you’re probably in bed right now, aren’t you? wearing that hoodie. nothing else.” you can’t speak. your breath’s gone, you clench your thighs together, trying to contain the heat pooling between your legs.

“i’d be touching you if i was there. slow. careful. i’d make it up to you, make you forget why you were ever mad in the first place. i’d kiss your thighs, your stomach, every inch of you.”

“matt,” you whisper, needy now.

“say it again,” he murmurs. “please.”

“matt,” you moan out into the speaker, softer, more desperate.

“good girl,” he groans. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” you close your eyes, biting your lip. “touch yourself for me,” he says, voice ragged. “just a little. i wanna hear how bad you need me.” your fingers trail down slowly, as he whispers your name again and again like a prayer, voice thick with lust and love and everything you’ve both been holding in for too long. the argument fades like smoke, what’s left is the ache. the love. the promise of his hands on you again soon.

you breathe, your hand sliding down your body. "i miss you so much, i need you." matt groans. "i know, baby, i need you too," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "i wish i could touch you, taste you, feel your body against mine. i'd run my hands all over your soft skin, teasing you until you were begging for more."

"tell me what you'd do to me," you beg, your fingers toying with the hem of your panties. "tell me how you'd make me feel."

"first, i'd kiss you, long and deep," he starts, his voice low and seductive. "i'd taste every inch of your mouth, claim you with my tongue. then i'd trail kisses down your neck, sucking and biting until i left marks on your skin…” you moan softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you imagine his lips on your body. your fingers slip beneath your panties, finding your clit and circling it slowly.

"then i'd move down to your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples until they were hard and aching," he continues, his voice rough with desire. "i'd worship your body with my mouth, kissing and tasting every inch of your skin." you whimper, your fingers moving faster against your clit. "more," you beg, your voice breathy and needy.

"then i'd spread your legs, baring your pretty pussy to me," he growls, and you can hear the hunger in his voice. "i'd lick you from top to bottom, tasting your sweetness. i'd fuck you with my tongue, thrusting it deep inside you until you were writhing and moaning beneath me." you cry out, your hips bucking against your hand. "matt, please," you whimper, your body trembling with need.

"fuck yourself on your fingers," he commands, his voice low and rough. "imagine it's my cock inside you, stretching you open, filling you up. i want you to feel me, even though i'm not there." you obey, sliding two fingers inside yourself, your walls clenching around them. you moan loudly, your hips rocking against your hand.

"that's it, baby," he encourages, his voice strained. "fuck yourself just like that, take what you need. imagine my hands on your body, my cock deep inside you." you hear him moan softly, and you realize he's stroking himself, his hand moving up and down his thick shaft. the thought of him jerking off to the sound of your moans sends a thrill through your body.

"you like that, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dirty. "you like knowing i'm stroking my cock, thinking about your tight little pussy. you're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?" you moan loudly, your fingers moving faster inside yourself. "yes," you whimper, your voice breathy and needy. "i'm—oh my gosh..”

"fuck, you're so hot," he groans, his breathing ragged. "i wish i could see you, see your fingers fucking your pussy, see your face as you cum. i’d give anything to be inside you right now, pounding into you until you screamed."

"matt," you gasp, your fingers curling inside yourself. "i'm so close, i need to cum!”

"cum for me," he growls, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "cum all over your fingers, let me hear you scream. i want to hear how good i make you feel, even from miles away." with a cry, you come undone, your body convulsing around your fingers. you moan his name over and over again, your hips bucking wildly. "that's it, baby," he purrs, his voice low and satisfied. "just like that. i wish i could be there to hold you, to taste your cum on my tongue, to feel your body against mine."

you hear his breathing quicken, his moans growing louder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," he groans, his voice rough with pleasure. "i'm gonna cum thinking about you, about your tight pussy, your gorgeous body." with a loud moan, he comes undone, his cum spilling over his hand as he strokes himself through his orgasm. you listen to his moans, your body trembling with pleasure. "soon," you promise, your voice rough with emotion. "soon we'll be together again."

"i can't wait," he whispers. "until then, know that i love you, that i'm always thinking of you. i'll be dreaming of you tonight, of touching you and tasting you and fucking you until you scream." you laugh. "i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling with love and desire. as you lay in bed, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, you know that no matter the distance between you, your love will always keep you connected.

© delilahsturniolo

taglist

[sillysturns]

something bad | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

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

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

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

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you didn’t close the gap.

You were leaving it up to him.

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

Instead, you met him halfway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[sillysturns]

𝑴𝒊𝒄'𝒅 𝑼𝒑 𝒐𝒏 𝑳𝒊𝒗𝒆 | 𝑴.𝑺

― 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ Gluttony , $uicideboy$

rapper!matt x f!reader

WARNINGS : smut, exhibitionism, hold the moan, playing with you while he's on a live, fingering, secretive, dirty talk, orgasm, public

word count : 1kish

― The studio’s quiet, dim but warm, thick with the low hum of equipment and the not-so-innocent rustle of movement just out of frame.

The only real light comes from Matt’s phone, the screen glowing pale and blue where it rests on the desk—casting a soft gleam on the curve of his bare chest, catching the shine of his silver chain every time he shifts beneath you.

He’s sunk low in the chair, hoodie shoved down around his elbows, arms sprawled lazy and open, legs wide. He looks like he owns the room—owns you—and in this moment?

He absolutely does.

Because you?

You’re straddling him, back pressed to his chest, legs spread over his, sitting real fuckin’ pretty for the camera.

To anyone watching the livestream, it looks casual. Relaxed. Just Matt kicking back in the studio, your silhouette in his lap, helping him read the chat while he answers questions and jokes with fans.

What they don’t see is his hand up your skirt—fingers rubbing slow circles against the soaked crotch of your panties, teasing the puffy lips of your pussy like it’s nothing.

His other arm’s locked around your waist, keeping you still, keeping you close. The phone is steady in his hand, comments flashing like wildfire across the screen, but your eyes aren’t on them. Can’t be—not when his touch is dragging slick through your folds, slow and deliberate, not even inside yet and still driving you insane.

“She’s just helpin’ out tonight,” he says to the camera, voice smooth and lazy, lips twitching in that smug little grin he wears so well. “Got my girl here readin’ the chat while I work.”

You swallow hard, trying to sit still. Trying to look normal while your pussy’s dripping into your panties, clenching around nothing, aching for him to finally push in.

He knows it. Knows exactly what he’s doing.

You feel the smirk in the way he moves—fingers sliding along your soaked slit, barely brushing your clit, then dipping back down to gather more of your mess. You’re so wet it’s embarrassing, your panties damp enough to stick to your cunt, fabric stretched thin between your folds like it’s trying to hold back something wild.

“Relax,” he murmurs in your ear, voice low and warm. “You’re doin’ so good, baby. Just sit still. Let me feel this sweet little pussy.”

His fingers slip under the lace at last—finally—and it’s filthy. You gasp, barely catching it behind your teeth as he parts your swollen folds, dragging his fingertips through the soaked heat of your pussy like he’s sampling dessert.

“Fuck,” he mutters, low and reverent, pressing the pad of his thumb against your slippery clit. “Pussy’s drippin’, baby. I haven’t even fucked you yet and she’s already makin’ a mess.”

Your hips twitch. You can’t help it. And this time? He doesn’t stop you.

His fingers push in—one first, slow and teasing—just enough to stretch you, make you gasp. Your pussy clenches around him instantly, puffy and soaked and too fuckin’ desperate to pretend anymore.

The mic picks up the wet sound of it—quiet, subtle—but if someone’s listening close, they’ll hear everything.

Matt’s other hand tightens around your waist as he pumps that finger in and out, slow but firm, dragging slick out of you with every curl.

“Be good,” he says, voice sharp and low. “Start grindin’ on me and I swear I’ll forget we’ve got an audience.”

Your breath stutters. The chat keeps flying. You know someone’s asked something—you’re supposed to be reading it—but you’re trembling, already on edge.

Matt nudges your chin forward with his shoulder, lips brushing your temple. “Read the next one, baby,” he murmurs. “Let ‘em hear how sweet you sound with my fingers buried in this puffy little cunt.”

Then he slips in a second finger—stretching you open, filling you more—and your body jerks. You try to catch yourself on the desk, one hand flying out, the other pressed tight over your mouth to muffle the sound.

“‘Who’s your biggest inspiration?’” you choke out, voice wrecked, barely coherent.

Matt chuckles darkly, eyes on your face in the glass.

“Right now?” he says. “This messy fuckin’ pussy. She’s got me feelin’ real inspired.”

His thumb circles your clit again, tighter now, rougher. Your hands grip the desk like a lifeline, body shaking as he starts to fuck you harder—fingers working in and out of your drenched, puffy cunt like he’s trying to leave you ruined.

The wet noise of it is filthy, your slick coating his knuckles, dripping down his wrist, your panties shoved to the side and clinging to your thigh like they’ve given up trying to contain you.

“Shit,” Matt mutters, voice still sweet for the mic. “You hear that, chat? Must be some kinda feedback or somethin’. Loud as fuck.”

Then, lower—just for you:

“Nah, baby. That’s you. That’s this tight little pussy talkin’.”

You’re right there—so close—body tensed and trembling, pussy fluttering around his fingers as he keeps you pressed down, held still, thumb locked on your clit like a fucking weapon.

“You come now, and I swear I’ll bend you over this desk,” he growls, voice like gravel. “Mic on. Camera rollin’. Let ‘em all hear how nasty this pussy sounds when I really fuck it.”

Your whole body shakes. You’re blinking back tears, trying not to come, trying to be good.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say it to the chat. Let ‘em hear how bad this pussy needs to come.”

“W–wanna come,” you whisper, barely holding it together. “Please, Matt—my pussy’s so wet—need it—need to come—”

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Please,” you cry, voice high and broken. “Pussy’s so soaked, Matt, it’s dripping, fuck—I need it—need to come on your fingers, please—”

He groans behind you, teeth grazing your neck as his fingers slam into you faster, deeper, his thumb grinding cruelly against your swollen clit.

“Come for me,” he snarls. “Come on my fuckin’ fingers. Let this sweet little pussy show off how messy she gets for me.”

And you do.

You break like a wave, silent but wrecked, body shaking as you gush around his fingers, slick pouring out of you in hot, wet spurts. You press your hand hard over your mouth but the mic catches everything—the tremble in your breath, the obscene noise of your pussy creaming all over his hand, the low, satisfied growl Matt lets out as he feels you come apart in his lap.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs. “You fuckin’ soaked me.”

He slides his fingers out slow, sticky strings of slick still connecting you, then lifts them to his mouth and licks them clean right in the camera’s glow, tongue dragging between his fingers like he’s savoring every drop.

“Told you,” he says, with a grin.

“Already got a sample recorded.”

The chat?

Still flying.

None the wiser.

Or maybe just listening a whole lot closer now.

FREAK LIKE MEEEE??? god rapper!matt is so fucking fun to write for lmk if anyone has any requests for him i will drop everything & do them bcs damn

gif by - @vxnitra !!

���� 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

🖇 - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @v4lsturn @shitttttypoet @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pip4444chris @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @courta13 @divinesturn @aaliyahsturniolo @chris-hallelujah @mi-co-uk @ivysturnss @sweetpeabreezyree @christophersgf @bluestriips @angelic-sturniolos111 @shadowthesim237 @moond0llie @eeyoresturnz @ellssturn @fratbrochrisgf @teddystvrns @pvssychicken @ribbonlovergirl @chrisspussygang @vanteguccir @tits4matt @bambisturns @luvs4matt @delilahsturniolo <3