sturnsdolan

[sturnsdolan]

yearning for a man who doesn’t know I exist

he’s just too damn sexy



[sturnsdolan]

HIS PIRATE GIRL SHIRT💋💋

[sturnsdolan]

he’s got such a sittable face 🤧

[sturnsdolan]

fresh love

in which . . . being friends with matt and nick, you’ve been around the sturniolo’s and helped with the channel. though, chris has always been difficult, despite your immense influence on his brand, fresh love.

warnings . . . rough sex, hate sex, degradation, light choking, ass slapping, and intense verbal sparring between characters who maintain a hostile and emotionally toxic dynamic, mutual antagonism, emotionally charged power play, unprotected sex, and a lack of aftercare. additional elements include public risk (semi-public setting), dominant behavior (chris), swearing, and manipulation through sex

you can’t stand him.

chris with the cocky smirk and the silver chain that dangles when he leans over the editing table. chris with the backwards hat and the voice that always sounds like it’s one second away from saying something condescending. chris who thinks his little clothing company makes him creative. chris who thinks he knows everything.

you hate him. you hate the way he looks at you like you’re a challenge. like he’s already won.

so you kiss him first.

you’re arguing—again. about lighting, about the thumbnail, about how he said “people only click when you’re in the video ‘cause you look fuckable.”

and before you can even register it, you shove him. and he laughs. actually laughs.

you shove him hard enough that his back hits the edge of the editing table.

he’s still laughing when he grabs your wrist.

“careful,” he mutters, tugging you in by the waistband of your jeans. “you keep touching me like that, i’m gonna start thinking you like me.”

“fuck off.”

“you first.”

and then you’re kissing—if you can call it that.

it’s not romantic. it’s not soft. it’s teeth and tongue and a bite to his bottom lip just to shut him up. he groans, low and deep, but doesn’t let you win. pushes back with just as much bite, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth hard enough to bruise.

his hands are already up your shirt—calloused fingers skating over your ribs, not even pretending to be gentle. he palms your tits through your bra, rough and greedy, like he’s doing it to prove a point.

“these look better up close,” he says smugly, mouth against your jaw.

“choke.”

“you’d like that.”

your jeans are on the floor in seconds. he doesn’t even bother to help you step out of them—just drags your underwear down your thighs, then lifts you up onto the table like it’s nothing. your legs spread instinctively, knees bumping against the cold edge of the desk. he’s already undoing his belt with one hand, still looking at you like he owns the room.

“no foreplay?” you snap, breathless.

he spits on his fingers. drags them through your folds once—just once—and smirks.

“you’re already soaked. don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted.”

he’s right and you hate him for it.

you don’t get a second to adjust. he slides in in one long, brutal thrust and you choke on your own breath, back arching, hands scrambling for purchase on the edge of the table.

“still wanna act like you don’t want me?” he grits, holding your hips still while he pushes deeper.

“still wanna act like you’re good at this?” you throw back, even as your legs tremble.

he thrusts hard—once, twice, sharp and fast and punishing—and you gasp, fingernails digging into the wood behind you. the table creaks with every movement, your thighs shaking from the force of it.

his hand wraps around your throat, not tight, just enough to make you look at him.

“say it.”

“say what?”

“that you need me.”

you grin, wild and breathless.

“you’re fucking delusional.”

his thumb brushes your clit, finally, and your head slams back against the table.

“keep running your mouth,” he growls. “see where it gets you.”

he fucks you mean. brutal rhythm, no tenderness, just sweat and noise and the ugly slap of skin on skin. one hand around your throat, the other gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. every thrust drags a desperate sound out of you no matter how hard you bite your lip.

“you’re so fucking loud,” he mutters, breath hot against your neck.

“you’re the one making me—fuck—”

“yeah. exactly. say thank you.”

“go to hell.”

he laughs, kisses you hard, and pulls out just long enough to flip you over—bent over the table now, cheek pressed to the cold surface, ass up for him.

you glance back at him, dazed and furious and wet between the thighs.

“if you don’t make me come this time, i swear to god—”

he slaps your ass.

“then shut up and let me do it.”

he fucks you deeper from this angle, hitting that spot that makes your knees buckle, your body rocking forward with every thrust. your moans come out garbled, fucked-out, your slick dripping down your thigh. his fingers find your clit again, circling with just enough pressure to make your legs tremble.

“so cocky,” you pant, barely able to breathe.

“you make it too easy.”

your orgasm hits hard—legs shaking, fists clenched on the table, a strangled cry tearing from your throat before you can stop it.

he groans behind you, biting down on your shoulder as he spills inside, still moving, still too much.

after, he pulls out, tugs his jeans back up, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like he just finished a meal.

you’re still bent over the table, trying to remember how to speak.

he tosses your underwear at you like a tissue.

“you left these.”

“fuck you.”

“you already did.”

you slide them back on, shaky legs and sore thighs, and glare at him while fixing your shirt.

“this doesn’t mean anything.”

he shrugs, already heading for the door.

“never said it did. i still think you’re annoying as shit.”

“and i still think your little brand is ugly.”

he pauses at the door, smirks over his shoulder.

“then stop cumming on everything i wear.”

you flip him off.

he winks.

and you’re both thinking the same thing.

you’ll do it again.

taglist . . . @sturniolo-szn2, @trustinsturniolos, @whore4-chrissturniolo, @rockastic, @j21l91, @courta13, @emma12345sworld, @maekieuwu, @norahsturns, @sturniszn, @pip4444chris, @angeliccumslut, @tezzzzzzzz, @angel-sturn1, @stvnsthings, @justforbradpitt, @cayleeuhithinknott, @sturnsxbitvh

stasia speaks . . . idk

[sturnsdolan]

YOURE JUST A GAMEBOY I AINT TRYNA PLAY BOY 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[sturnsdolan]

⌗ . . . STAY WITH IT

WARNINGS : DOM!CHRIS. SUB!READER. BIG!DICK!CHRIS. PRAISING. HAIR PULLING.

he was too big.

his dick was splitting you open as he slid in all the way—burying himself to the hilt in your warm walls. you gasped at the stretch, hands clutching at the sheets in a desperate attempt to ground yourself as you instinctively tried to pull away from him.

“nuh-uh,” he growled, catching your hips in his hands and dragging you right back onto him, his own hips starting to pick up the pace. “where do y’think you’re goin’, hm?”

his rough hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back. the sharp sting of the tug made you moan, mouth falling open in a silent ‘o,’ back arching to push him even deeper inside, no matter how overwhelming it felt.

“s-so big.” you whined, voice cracking with each thrust of his hips.

chris smirked, “yeah? y’feel me all up in here?” he says, his free hand reaching around to press on the bulge in your lower tummy and you cried—your head nodding even as your body instinctively tried to pull away again. but the grip in your hair kept you right where he wanted you. “c’mon, you can take it can’t you?” he mocked.

“yes!” you squeaked. and he smiled, pleased, releasing your stomach just to grab your hip again, fingers digging into the flesh as he yanked you back to meet each bruising thrust of his cock.

“good girl, gonna stay right here with it and take it all.”

[sturnsdolan]

guys one of my fics has been used in an edit, i’ve made it 😛 (fic in it is ‘STAY WITH IT’ btw)

edit creds @/madisdollie on tiktok

[sturnsdolan]

⌗ . . . PLEASURE IS GOOD BUT THE PAIN FEELS BETTER

WARNINGS : SMUT. USE OF PERIOD SIMULATOR. LIGHT PAIN KINK. RIDING. PNV. CREAM PIE. OVERSTIMULATION. SLIGHT SUB!CHRIS.

chris and his brothers had no idea what any of them were getting into when they finally gave into the period simulator idea that matt had brought up on stream months ago—but you were there watching it all go down.

sitting in the background where the camera wouldn’t catch you as they filmed their video.

matt was the first one up who decided to try the simulation—though he did place the patches too high, you decided not to correct them on it. letting them deal with their own consequences.

as you sat there, you couldn’t help but to giggle to yourself softly. watching as matt yelled anytime the dial was turned up too high—complaining about the pain radiating through his body. the same happened with nick—the yelling and cursing. you honestly thought they were some big babies for not handling the pain well.

but when it came to chris’ turn—you couldn’t help but to let your mind wander. the wires were connected to his skin, the device in one hand as he leans back against the cushions of the couch.

“c’mon you can trust me!” matt exclaimed, though there was clear intent behind his eyes, a smirk forming on his face. “no, i can’t.” chris said, turning his head to look at matt as he shuffled away from him. “yes, you can. i swear!” but chris wasn’t buying it, continuing to hold the device away from matt. eventually, matt convinced him to at least let him turn the device on.

it didn’t start right away, chris’ nerves shining through each time the device was turned up to the next level. “you feel it?” matt had asked chris, your own ears almost missing the question. and chris nodded, “yeah.” but his response sounded a little breathless.

“does it feel nice?” matt questioned again, and chris turned to look at him again. “no.” but his mouth was agape slightly, his words breathless again. almost as if he was trying to hold something back. you just watched, quirking a brow as the boys paid no mind to you.

you continued to sit silently, watching as chris gasped and thrusted his hips upwards anytime the simulator got turned up too high. watching as he yelled—but you could hear they were forced, they weren’t the sounds he was wanting to make. you smirked, standing up quietly as you made your way down to chris’ room, waiting for them to finish filming.

-

chris didn’t come down to his room until late—going out with matt and nick to run some errands and to grab some food, making sure to ask if you wanted anything before they came home.

and that gave you plenty of time to go upstairs and search for where they had left the simulator. when you found it, discarded on the counter in the kitchen, you grabbed it and slipped your way back into chris’ room just as they walked in from the garage.

their voices mingled as they bickered over something stupid, but it quickly came to an end as chris opened the door to his room—food and drinks in hand as he said his last words to his brothers before closing the door with his foot.

“hey baby i got—“ his words were cut off as he turned around, seeing you on his bed in nothing but one of his tees and your panties. his mouth dropped open, everything on his tongue disappearing.

you smiled, crossing your legs as you held the simulator next to you on the sheets. chris’ eyes flicked to it then back at you before his feet moved to set the food down on his desk.

chris didn’t even say a word—just stared. his mouth parted, chest already rising and falling faster than normal. his eyes darted between your bare thighs and the little machine lying next to you on the bed.

“you guy’s left your toy out,” you said sweetly. “thought i’d give it back.” chris slowly stepped closer to you. “you—what’re you doing with that? you’re not gonna make me wear that again, are you?”

you tilted your head at his silly question, smirking slightly. “you don’t want to?.” you asked, cocking a grow at him. his face heated up, the idea of the simulator being hooked up to himself again making his brain work overtime.

“you looked so good earlier. moaning, gasping… couldn’t tell if it hurt or if it felt good.” you purred, but you already knew the answer to that. chris’ throat bobbed. “it hurt.”

“mhm. and yet you still popped a boner.” you teased, watching the way his eyes widened at your bluntness. “i didn’t—” he tried to protest, but you quickly interrupted him before he could get much out.

“you did.” you smiled as he couldn’t help but to palm himself through his sweats like it would prove you wrong. too late. your body was already crawling forward, grabbing the simulator and letting your fingers stroke across the wires as he stood still.

“off.” you said, and he didn’t move. so you snapped your fingers, watching his eyes re focus on you.

“i said off, chris.” and he obeyed, quickly stripping down to nothing, letting his boxers hit the floor along with his sweats. you smirked as his half-hard cock twitched under your gaze.

“come sit on the bed.” your hand coming down to pat the mattress under you. his feet moved, coming over, he sat. you came closer, climbing onto his lap. he hissed the second your clothed heat pressed against him through your thin panties, and you bent down to kiss his jaw, murmuring, “gonna let me put it on you again, baby?”

“yes.” he breathed, his body already beginning to tremble with the anticipation.

he whined under his breath as you shifted away slightly, but you were already setting the pads in place—lower this time, where they’d actually target his pelvis properly. he looked at you with wide, almost nervous eyes, but that didn’t stop you. he just gripped your hips as you straddled him once more and pressed the remote into your hand.

you flicked it on.

chris shuddered, his hips immediately jerking up as the first wave of simulation rolled through him, and a quiet whimper left his throat.

“there we go,” you whispered, grinding down on him. “that’s more like it.” the simulator buzzed, causing his hips to twitch up. your free hand reached down slowly, moving your already soaked panties to the side before you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down onto him.

his whole body arched up. “f-fuck.” he groaned, hands trembling on your waist. “you’re—shit—tight.” you moaned at the stretch, the fullness, the pressure of him inside while his muscles jerked with every little pulse of the simulator. you started to bounce gently at first, watching as his head tipped back.

he didn’t last long.

you knew he wouldn’t.

between the pain and the way your walls fluttered around him, it was only minutes before he was gasping and thrusting his cock up into you desperately, spilling inside you with a stuttered cry. his hands tightened on your hips as his cock pulsed inside you—painting your walls white.

but you didn’t stop—you couldn’t.

you were close—so close. and even though his thighs trembled and his stomach twitched with overstimulation, you gripped his shoulders and bounced your hips faster. “w-wait—babe, babe—fuck—” he cried, his eyes rolling back into his head as you continued to move, using him to get yourself off now.

“mm-mm.” you moaned, your head falling to his shoulder. “need it baby, m’almost there.”

“shit—” he cried out again when the simulator pulsed again, and his hips bucked up involuntarily, thrusting up into you. he hissed, head tipping to try and look at where you were connected. “it hurts—fucking hurts—”

“good.” you whined, bouncing even faster. “it’s supposed to.” and his nails dug into your skin—his face was twisted in that pretty little mix of pleasure and pain—eyes squeezed shut now, jaw slack, whimpering curses as you clenched around him again and again.

“fuck—m’gonna cum.” you moaned, your clit rubbing against his pelvis just the right way every time your body slammed down on him. the band in your stomach growing tighter and tighter before it finally snapped. you came with a broken cry, your whole body shaking, head tossed back as your orgasm spilled over you. chris groaned as your walls milked him, already leaking out around his cock.

you finally collapsed against him, your chest heaving with every breath you took. the simulator still attached to his skin, sending waves after waves through him, causing tears to build at his waterline. chris whimpered, “please. please turn it off.”

you slowly turned your head to kiss his cheek and finally clicked it off, and he melted beneath you with a long, shivery exhale as the waves stopped. you leaned up and looked at him—the way his face was flushed, his hair stuck to his forehead, lips parted and swollen from his teeth biting into it.

“you okay?” you asked sweetly, and he nodded, letting his eyes flutter close as he tipped his head back. you smiled, reaching your hand up to caress his face before you tried to move yourself off him, but his arms tightens around you.

“don’t move—stay, please.” he whispered, holding your sweaty bodies to one another.

and who could deny him?

a/n : ik some of y’all are waiting for the stepbrother!matt and chris thing…trust it’s coming, it’s just a little lengthy

ik @mattybsgroupie has been waiting for this one

[sturnsdolan]

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

[sturnsdolan]

need both of em to edge me.

[sturnsdolan]

okay seriously who tf stole my pants

[sturnsdolan]

“dinners ready!” i say as i lay on the table

DILF DILF DILF DILF

[sturnsdolan]

chris got nick's and matt's names tattooed on him. NO ONE SPEAK TO ME.

[sturnsdolan]

In my head he’s looking at me like this

(Pls don’t call me delusional)

[sturnsdolan]

fuck i need to study

fuck i need to stud

fuck i need to stu

fuck i need to st

fuck i need to s

fuck i need to

fuck i need t

fuck i need

fuck i nee

fuck i ne

fuck i n

fuck i

fuck

fuc

fu

f

fa

fan

fanf

fanfi

fanfic

fanfict

fanficti

fanfictio

fanfiction

[sturnsdolan]

its been taking so long to write this fic, im gonna end it all

[sturnsdolan]

STANDING OVULATION OR WTV

— more than friends ...?

♡ a nervous chris asks his best friend {peach} to be his valentine, making her question how she feels for him and if they really are just friends. A slow burn romance, filled with jokes and inner thoughts, neither can tell how they feel about each other until they meet lips.

ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! !: fluff, smut (fem oral)

about this au

⋆ wc: 2.1k not proofread

Peach was laying, legs stetched out under her blanket, cozy on her couch. She was stuffing her mouth full of her favourite chocolates and scrolling through her exes Instagram page, flicking through pictures of him and his new girl. Depressed on valentines day, not exactly the best day for her.

Her phone buzzes and she picks it up, scrambling for the remote to pause the rom com she's watching.

A text illuminates the screen, from Chris.

“Come outside.” it reads.

She rolls her eyes and squirms on the couch, not wanting to get up and lose her comfortable spot,

“Whyyy, I'm cozy rn.” she texts

an instant reply hits her screen,

“Trust me, it's worth it!” from Chris.

With a grunt and a groan she stretches her legs and pokes them out of the blanket, landing on the floor and shuffling to the door with her blanket still wrapped around her. She opens the door to chris, stood in her front yard.

The speaker starts up playing fetty waps 'again', as chris dies laughing, after his laughter calms down, with the speaker still blasting he hobbles to your door and hands you a large bunch of red roses.

Amongst your giggles you thank him for the roses. “No problem peach.” He chuckles, shutting off the speaker.

She lets him inside, opening up the door wider as he walks in, his timberland boots clicking against the hard wood floors.

“Uhm, don't mind the mess. I've been a little depressed today.” You excuse

Chris' eyes scan around the living room, cluttered with chocolate wrappers, tissues, and at least ten blankets. “Alright..” he huffs, stepping over peaches third hello kitty blanket to crawl onto her couch.

“Now I was thinking -i mean, if you want to? If you don't mind-” Chris was stuttering,

“Yes?” Peach smiles

“I thought you'd be sad today, you know, because of the break up a little while ago and living alone now, so why don't we go out to dinner tonight?” Chris asks

“Us? Dinner?” Peaches panics on the spot.

“Uh- like only a friend thing.” Chris reassures her.

[ Peach thought it over a second, would it be a good thing to go on a date with Chris? It could give him false hope. You see, chris had confessed feelings for Peach the day before she had made it official with her then boyfriend Marcus. She had to turn him down, being Marcus' girlfriend now. When she'd found out Marcus was cheating, she kicked him out of their house and ran to Chris to cry to about it. But things had been awkward a while now, even four months after her breakup. Although this was 'only a friend thing' right?

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Peach accepts.

Chris smiles at her, “By the way, fuck is this you're watching?” he asks, laughing at the kissing couple on her TV screen.

“For your information, Christopher, this is 'ten things I hate about you', and it's fucking fire.” Peach giggles, un-pausing the TV to let the scene play. She curls up on the couch next to Chris.

── .✦. ── an hour later :

The time flies by as Peach is wrapped in Chris' muscular arms, and both are sound asleep until, the movie comes to an end, and their both suddenly hyper-aware of their situation. Peach is bundled up on his chest, hearing his heart beat and feeling his clothed chest move up and down, and he breathes slowly. She feels content here at home.

Chris shuffles away awkwardly, “Alright, I gotta go Peach but I'll see you at dinner tonight, right?”

“Yes sir!” She smiles sweetly, “Text me what time!” She yells as he laces up his boots at the end of the stairway.

“I will! ” he yells back.

── .✦. ── 8pm, time for the date! :

Peach is curling her hair, ready for the date. Her lips are lined with the perfect cocoa shade of brown, her hair is flowing in perfect curls, and her sheer white dress is hugging her figure. She looked angelic tonight. You couldn't deny it.

“Wow.” Chris scoffs when he arrives to pick her up, his eyes roam around her body. He fights to keep them tame and look at her face, but he can't help his mind from wandering as his eyes drift onto her waist. Nobody could stop his brain from imagining dirty scenarios of him holding onto her. He was like a deer infront of headlights.

“Chris?” She interrupts his obscene fantasies, concerned as to why he's been staring blankly at her for so long.

“Shit, yeah get in let's go.” he says, breaking away from his stare.

Peach immediately steals the aux and turns on some music, choosing her rap playlist to blast throughout the car.

“Damn I did not expect this type of music from you.” Chris chuckles at the innapropriate rap music that played, which wasn't helping his impulsive sexual fantasies of her.

“I love it.” Peach giggles, sending Chris into a laughter as well.

── .✦. ── at the restaurant :

Peach had so much fun in the car singing along to dirty rap songs. She had forgotten that she actually had no clue where she was being taken to dinner, until she arrived.

“Oh my god, Chris.” Peach whined,

The restaurant was definitely more than nice, it was fancy as fuck and the interior was gorgeous. Chandeliers were hung over the ceiling, and the tables were sprinkled with pretty decorations. This place didn't look easy to book, Chris had to have planned this for weeks.

As sweet as the gesture was, Peach was intimidated by it all. This gorgeous restaurant, the flowers? This wasn't feeling so friendly. This felt more like a real date.

“Chris this place is really nice.” Peach says,

“I know, you like it?” Chris grins like a kid given candy

“It's beautiful, but a little much for just friends at dinner.” Peach mumbles unsure of her assumptions,

“Well, the only way to get you out of the house would be to go somewhere nice, right?” Chris smiles,

“I suppose you're right.” Peach admits, she would've never bothered to get dressed up and stop wallowing in her sadness if it wasn't for Chris' suprise.

The room was vast and tables were far apart, ensuring everyone in the restaurant could have conversations without background noise. Unfortunately for Peach that was all she was wishing for at this moment. The table was awkwardly silent, leaving her wondering what Chris was thinking of.

“Bout that movie?” Chris starts to chip away at the block of awkward silence,

“Ten things I hate about you!” Peach exclaims excitedly, ready to discuss her all-time favourite movie ever.

“So what happens in your goofy rom com and should I bother watching it?” Chris remarks

“Basically, the main girl, Kat, is lowkey guy-reppellent, but her little sister Bianca can't date until Kat does, you with me so far?” Peach is starting to explain,

“Mhm.” Chris smiles, seeing Peach in her element talking about the things she loved was so cute.

“And so.. Kat dates this guy Patrick who's paid to go out with her by biancas crush, but they end up falling in love.” Peach explains.

“That's cool, might watch it.” Chris says sarcastically,

“Really?” Peach questions

“Nah kid.” Chris laughs

Peach pulls an annoyed face at him along with a side eye at him and to top it all off, rolls her eyes.

Later, Peach and Chris are leaving the restaurant, having eaten and shared many conversations. Their walking along a cobblestone path up to a bridge.

“Tell me something i dont know about you.” Peach blurts out.

“What?” Chris snorts, “You already know everything about me, were best friends.”

“Oh, c'mon.” He nudges her shoulder, “There has to be something.” Peach giggles,

“Alright, I sleep with stuffed animals in my bed every night.” Chris admits,

“What! For real? So you take 'em off of that shelf every night?” She laughs

“Yeah, I can't sleep alone.“ Chris tells her,

“Awh thats kinda cute.” Peach punches his shoulder playfully,

“'ight, now your turn.” Chris demands,

“Alright, alright.” Peach mumbles, “I've never had oral.”

“Really? Never?” Chris asks in shock,

“It's not like I don't want it- past boyfriends just thought it was weird or didnt want to do it on me.” Peach says shyly

“You want me to?” Chris joked

Or was it really a joke? Peach was used to these jokes, but this time, it seemed different. His tone, they way he had looked her in the eyes as he said it, the 'not date date' they were on. This time it didn't feel like a joke.

Peach paused, looking Chris in the eye, trying to figure out if he had meant what he said.

“Just jokin' kid, don't get scared.” Chris, let's out an awkward laugh,

“Hahah, right.” Peach fakes a laugh, and rubs her arm from the cold.

Weirdly enough she was slightly disappointed. Imagining Chris' head between her legs for a second seemed sweet. His hands trailing up her thighs, leaving soft kisses. The sight from above of his hair, tickling her legs as he dove his tongue inside of her-

She's interrupted mid thought- “Ya cold Peaches?” Chris says, immediately removing his jacket and wrapping it around her before she could answer.

“Thanks.” she whispers, shivering and shaking underneath it still.

“Home now?” Chris asks her, A shaky Peach accepts of course, wanting to cuddle up under her millions of blankets.

── .✦. ── at home :

Peach, of course, bursts through the door of her home, immediately showering to get warm and emerging in fluffy pyjamas holding multiple blankets. “Movie night?” She suggests to Chris, a huge smile painted across her face. He has no choice but to agree when she looks at him like that.

'The Dark Knight', Chris' pick of movie, plays on the bright screen. But Chris doesn't watch it. He's staring at Peach for most of the movie.

“Y'know what I said earlier, if it made you uncomfortable I'm sorry.” Chris begins,

“It didn't.” Peach halts him, “I liked it.”

“The joke, o-or?” Chris stutters,

“I'll take you up on your offer if that's what you want.” Peach tells him, shocked to even hear herself speak, not used to being so forward like this but she felt good about it.

Chris' eyes shift for a second. He's unsure if he's finally getting the moment he's been waiting for. He looks down at the floor, up to her eyes and to her lips, where his hand snakes up to her jaw and pulls her in to kiss.

His kiss was soft at first, easing her in and pushing his lips against hers, until it turned hungry, passionate, and desperate to taste her. His lips moved down her neck, sucking and kissing down her skin.

“Oh! Fuck chris..” Peach whines, his mouth wrapped around her nipple, until he travels down again soon.

“May I?” He asks, almost in a beg. His eyes were wide and puppy dog, pleading for her to say yes. Peach smiles and nods. Chris almost rips her underwear, diving in immediately, he'd been thinking about doing this for so long.

“So wet, I didn't know you wanted this so bad.” Chris whispers, wiping a finger across her dripping pussy.

“I do, I need it. ” Peach whines at the contact, praying for more.

His lips are quickly scoping around her clit, kissing it and rolling his tongue along. Every muffled groan he let's out sends vibrations pulsing through her. He's buried between her legs and is content to die there.

“Oh my god.” Peach moans, followed by gibberish mumbles and whines for mercy.

His tongue is wild, sending rippling pleasure through Peaches body every time he flicks it. He's slowly chipping away at the knot in her stomach with each euphoric motion of his careful tongue. Peach has her legs wrapped around him, and her hands in his hair.

By now minutes have passed and his tongue is only getting faster, hungrier, more determined to make her come the best she ever has. Peach is only getting louder, moaning almost pornographically at his friction. His hands are gripping her hips, pulling apart her legs as he dives deeper, swirling his tongue. Her hands pull at his hair and scratch his back, begging for more.

“Fuck Chris this is so good.” she moans out, which only makes the tent in his pants grow harder. He's coaxing the pleasure out of her every second she's closer to euphoria. Chris pushes his hands up her hips, caressing her skin.

Finally she reaches her high, her whole body relaxing into a puddle, her legs un-clenching as Chris' tongue rides her through it.

“Good?” Chris jokes,

“Fuck you, that was the best of my life.” Peach giggles,

“Well if you'll give me a chance we could do that again.” Chris suggests,

“Oh fuck yeah, you're with me now.” Peach laughs, diving in to kiss him again.

⋆ A/n : this is my first long fic, please give constructive criticism! I'm honestly scared to post and might take this down if it does shit because I'm worried people are gonna hate this!!

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava @chrissweetheart @certifiedstar @slut4chris888 @courta13 @malsmind @chrepsi @muwapsturniolo