sturnvdds

[sturnvdds]

Im crying this is adorable

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), heavy angst, mentions of family death and family issues, fluff, panic attacks, showering together, and more prolly tbh

A/N: Conan gray is my bitch. Loosely inspired by this song because mf I don't got a Marylou and Jimmy irl </3

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P27: Feel Alive

“Baby?” 

Usually, the sweet pet name would make my stomach swirl with butterflies, but right now it doesn’t really feel like anything.

It’s been like this for days, and those days have felt like weeks, if not months. Numb. My brain, my heart, and every one of my senses has turned unresponsive—like some sort of plastic wrap suffocating me in my own skin that crawls with disgust everytime a slight memory of Baylen’s words about my dad echo in my head.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chris asks, walking around the corner of the couch before plopping down on the cushion next to me, his hand on my knee as his brows furrow. 

I can’t help but shift under his touch. The warmth of his hand doesn’t feel bad, it just feels off—like there’s some sort of rushing anxiety that all the memories of my dad touching me as a kid are gonna spontaneously come back to me at any given contact.

That’s how it works apparently. When Baylen had said everything, I felt something shift inside of me. It was like he unlocked a certain part of my brain that could remember feeling so confused as a child. 

Blurry memories and haunting scenes of the past made my bedroom unlivable. Baylen understood when I left and packed a bag. I’m not sure what the plan is for when my mom comes back home, but that would be a problem for later. 

“I’m just…” I shake my head, letting out a sigh as I let my eyes flutter shut. As my eyelashes brush against each other, it’s like I can see it—see more. 

And I hate it. 

I hate how uncomfortably clammy my skin starts to feel—I despise how big everything seems when I open my eyes to connect back to reality. 

And I see him—Chris. 

Staring at me with wide eyes full of concern, he tries to lean forward, his hand nearly touching my cheek. I shrink away from the touch. Chris’ face drops, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

The way his eyes drop to his lap makes something inside of me burn. My heart aches in my chest, my feet shifting on the ground as I find my body empty of any air—any relief. 

“I—” 

I can’t speak. The words tangle on my tongue, the sentence blanking in my mind as I feel my face grow unbearably warm. His eyes trace back up to mine, his lips tugged into a pout as he hesitantly squeezes my knee.

“I’m here, okay?” he mentions, licking over his lips as he shakes his head with worry etched in his features, “-I…I don’t know what to do or what would help, but I’m here. You are not alone.” 

The words are comforting. However, as they settle in my mind, I can’t help but feel some sort of twist in the bottom of my gut—an uncomfortable churn of anxiety as I repeat the four syllables in my head. 

He used to say that—my dad was always the one comforting me, holding me, codling me like he truly loved and cared about me. All the monsters under my bed scared me, I’d always ask to be tucked in, begging for him to stay until I fell asleep. 

But the real monster was in my bed. The real monster actually existed—the real monster is the one person I used to always associate with love. 

“Chris, this…this hurts.”

His face furrows at my statement. He holds his arms open, welcoming me in a hug. My body itches at the thought of feeling trapped, my head shaking with refusal as Chris’ face tugs into a pained expression. 

“I—’m sorry, just—tell me what’s going on, how…” he looks around the room, his tongue darting over his bottom lip as his gaze returns to me, “-how can I help? Your cheeks are pink, are you too hot?” 

My mouth opens, but only a stuttered huff of air escapes my lips. I don’t know what I feel, all I know is every inch of my body itches with some sort of sting and my skin is too tight. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, his voice pulling my eyes to focus on his face, “-let’s…c’mere, you’re burning up.” 

Chris gets up, standing and offering a hand towards me. I slide my fingers into his palm, flinching as I notice how sweaty I am, my throat dry as I try to take more breaths, but none of them are enough—every gasp of air is shallow no matter how hard I try. 

He drags us down the hallway, pulling us in front of the bathroom door before he looks at me with a hesitant expression. “We just…gotta—gotta cool you down. Why don’t you take a cold shower? I can—I’ll be on the other side of the curtain. I don’t want you to pass out, but…I…” His mouth opens and shuts. I nod my head, grasping into the material of his shirt that covers his chest as I lean on him. 

Everything is so hazy. My eyes won’t focus at all anymore, it’s impossible to see or hear anything. The only vessel to reality I have left is him. 

My hand clutches the material tighter as he shifts. I hear the slight sound of his voice drowned out in the back of my mind, failing at understanding his words as I feel his arm wrap around me, pulling me into the bathroom as my feet land on the cold tile floor.

It’s hard to focus, it’s hard to feel alive. All I know is that I feel his hands on me, guiding me into the porcelain bathtub before a cold rush of water washes over me. My soaked clothes are heavy. I feel my body slug down with exhaustion, hands around my waist tugging my back against something warm—his chest. 

And I can finally breathe. 

“-okay, okay, it’s—it’s gonna be okay, is this helping? Fuck, I know this is what Matt does, I don’t—baby, c’mon–”

The echo of Chris’ voice is finally coherent enough for me to comprehend. I let myself melt in his hold, clutching onto his wrists as he basically supports all of my weight. 

“Thank you,” I say, my voice shaking as I feel him let out a sigh of relief, “-it…helps.” My words are muttered, barely audible between the running water and ragged breaths. 

___

It had been awhile, enough time to recover from the panic attack. My throat is sore. The rushed gasps of air for so long made my vocal cords feel raw, but I wasn’t trying to speak. I was only relaxing, finally just breathing and letting that be enough. 

“Here,” Chris offers, holding his hand out for me to hold. I slide my fingers to slot between his own, smiling as he squeezes my hand, our palms pressed flush against each other as we continue walking down the cement path.

I’m not sure where we are. It’s some sort of park, one he drove us to, but it’s really pretty. There’s a lot of surrounding meadows, a tall hill, and some crowding trees around a statue of a woman holding a child up towards the sky.  

“Where are we?” I ask, my lips rolling together. I feel his hand squeeze mine a bit tighter, looking over to find him staring at me with a soft smile that makes my cheeks flush with a feathery warmth.

Wordlessly, Chris guides me further down the first path between the trees, passing the statute. As we round a corner, I feel my heart clench in my chest.

Headstones. 

We’re at a cemetery. And by the way Chris pulls my hand tighter and keeps walking with determination, I know it’s not just any graveyard. 

“Chris…?” I voice, my tongue swelling in my mouth as I swallow thickly. Our feet stop as he halts in front of two headstones, Nicolas etched in one of the blocks, Marylou engraved on the one sitting adjacent. 

“She would’ve loved you.” 

His words brush through the air like petals, the tingle of warmth spreading up my spine as I lean onto his shoulder, staring down at the gravestones in front of us. He clutches my hand closer, his own head resting on top of mine as we both stand and gaze down at the graves in front of us. 

“How do you know?” I ponder out loud, my face scrunching as I hear him let out an airy sigh. 

“I just…I just know. I’ve told her a lot about you.”

Oh.

Oh.

His answer creates some sort of cooling sensation in my chest—a relieving temperature from the burning ache radiating from my heart.

“I…I talk to her a lot still—especially about you, I—I’m worried,” he rasps, his jaw tightening against the crown of my head before I feel him shift. I look upward to see him staring directly at me. His gaze softens, his eyes squinted with a depressing emotion that makes my face flush. 

“This…this can’t be easy. I know your dad was all you really thought you had for family, but…” his eyes flicker between my own, he squeezes my hand a bit tighter as he stares directly into me, “-but my family is yours. My dad…Matt—even Trevor…they love you. You have family that would never lie to you or hurt you. You…” he licks over his lips, his throat bobbing as his face scrunches with emotion, “-you have people to mourn. Even if you’re never met them, I know in my soul that they love you. There’s…there’s family here for you,”

I feel a tear rush down my cheek. His words and his eyes make the world around us turn into a blurry void as I concentrate on him and him only. 

“-on every side—even beyond life, you have family waiting for you. “

Something about his words—something about the way he’s saying them…it makes it feel okay. 

I don’t need to be scared about dying. I don’t need to be fearful about living.

It’s enough for me to just breathe.

___

“Close your eyes, kid,” Matt directs, his voice echoing from in front of me as I feel Jimmy’s hands on my shoulders. Chris’ fingers are tangled between my own, his touch guiding me with direct as Jimmy nudges me forward. 

The slight creak of a door rings through the air. “Okay…take a look,” Jimmy states, shifting as lets one of his hands rest on my shoulder, a gentle pat of assurance making my eyes peep open. 

Oh. 

My. 

God. 

The room door open in front of us is Marylou’s old craft room, something I knew went untouched—but not anymore. 

Art supplies and random craft materials are gone—not a single one in sight. A twin bed is placed in front of the window, the bright sunlight gleaming in the room that smells of fresh cleaning fragrances. 

“I…what?” I voice, utterly astonished as I walk further into the room. 

All hands leave my body. My feet patter against the carpeted floor, my face laced with confusion as I let my eyes float around the newly transformed bedroom. 

“It’s for you,” Chris says. 

My body freezes as I stare at the three men. Matt nods his head up and down, affirming the statement further. I let my eyes shift to Jimmy. His face is covered with a gentle smile, one of his hands resting over his heart as he lets his head tilt slightly to the side. 

“You’re welcome here—your own room, your own space…hell—I’ll make ya bacon everyday,” Jimmy laughs, “-point is, this is your home too. Whatever you need, we’re here. I don’t gotta know everything, all I know is my home is always open to you.” 

My eyes water, my vision blurry as my bottom lip wobbles. “I…thank you,” I voice, my words cracked as I sniffle. 

The heavy tears brimming my lashline make it impossible to see. I feel arms wrap around me—then another pair, and another. 

They’re all hugging me. 

They’re all welcoming me.

Family is always associated with blood—but this is more than that, it’s deeper than that. 

It’s unconditional love. That’s not something anyone can just make or find, it’s something that’s formed in a soul—something indestructible in ways that make my heart feel like it’s healing. 

It makes me feel alive. 

[sturnvdds]

Obsessed w the whole series

NO GOIN' BACK

( Bsf!Chris x Inexperienced!Reader )

Chris and Reader wake up entangled with each other, and a slow, sleepy morning after drives them even closer.

requested(ish) by: @hannahsturniolo

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 3.5

-`✮´- 1.6k

contains. flirting, kissing, showering together, fluffy fluffy fluff !

Chris’s arm is draped loosely over her waist, their bare bodies pressed together as they breathe in sync. Y/N stirs despite the darkness in the room, her body beginning to wake out of habit even without the light of morning.

Sleepy noises escape her throat as she shifts subtly against Chris’s warmth. Her eyes flutter open, and she tilts her head to look up at him, a faint smile pulling at her lips. His features are relaxed, peaceful. A quiet whine slips past his lips as he buries his face deeper into the pillow beneath him, still half-asleep.

Y/N tries to slip out from under his arm to do her morning routine, but Chris holds her in place with a firm wrap around her waist. He dips his head, pressing a soft kiss to her neck before nuzzling into the curve of it.

“M’not done with you yet,” he mumbles sleepily, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

Y/N pushes off of him, squirming with playful resistance. “Chriiiiiss, I have to peee,” she whines through soft laughter, pretending to struggle against his hold.

Chris groans, loosening his grip before leaning back to meet her eyes. “Fine—’m comin’ with.”

Y/N blinks at him, brows raised. “…You’re gonna watch me piss?”

He smirks lazily. “Nah, jus' don’t wanna let go yet.”

She lightly taps his cheek to catch him off guard, then quickly shimmies out of his arms and darts to the bathroom.

“Hey—” Chris starts to protest, but he’s cut off by the click of the bathroom door.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Chris waits all of two seconds after hearing the toilet flush before barging in, deciding for himself that she's had enough privacy.

Y/N startles as she washes her hands. “Jesus, Chris! You couldn’t wait like—two seconds?”

“Ya lucky I waited for you to finish pissin',” he shoots back smugly, walking past her to the toilet without a second thought.

She stills her hands under the faucet and side eyes him, brow furrowed. He lifts the seat, aims, and starts pissing like it’s a totally normal thing to do.

“Classy,” she mutters.

“My dick was already out, sooo,” responds lazily, finishing up like they do this every day.

After washing his hands, Chris grabs both of their toothbrushes, casually tossing hers over without a glance. She catches it without looking, reaching for the toothpaste on the counter.

Pissing in front of each other? Not exactly routine. But this? Brushing their teeth side by side, getting ready together—this was normal. The only notable difference now was the lack of clothes.

“Fuck—I needa shave,” Chris mumbles around the toothbrush, foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth as toothpaste drips down his face.

“Dude—say it, don’t spray it,” Y/N laughs, scrunching her nose in exaggerated disgust.

“Myeh myeh myeh, ‘say it, don’t spray it,’” Chris mocks in a sing-song voice, not sparing her a glance. “I let my best friend fuck me, myeh myeh,” he adds, tearing into her without mercy.

Y/N’s jaw drops. She lets out a dry laugh, then turns away from him with a shake of her head. “Well, I’m usin' all your hot water,” she calls over her shoulder, stepping into his shower and shutting the glass door.

Chris spits the toothpaste into the sink, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then rushes to swing open the shower door before she can turn the water on.

“Chris—?”

“I needa shower too,” he says flatly—as if he wasn't being intentionally annoying.

“Yeah… sure, whatever you say,” Y/N mutters, her brow raised in obvious disbelief as she turns the water on, stepping out of the way of the stream.

Chris gets blasted with cold water, stood directly under the shower head.

“Holy fuck, that’s cold!” he yelps, flinching hard and stumbling into Y/N.

She giggles at his misfortune, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, their bodies still heavy with sleep, lips moving like they’ve got all the time in the world.

Chris’s hand slides down her waist, pausing to give her ass a playful squeeze. Y/N yelps into the kiss, then pulls back to glare at him.

“I’m too sore, Chris.”

“Sore?” he echoes with mock confusion. "Coulda guessed from the limp.”

She smacks the back of his head with a huff, grabbing the shampoo bottle like she’s had enough of his bullshit.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They spend about ten minutes in the shower, taking turns washing each other’s hair and poking at one another. Chris makes a point to be as irritating as possible—holding the body wash out of reach, squishing her cheeks as she pouts, and getting way too handsy for it to be considered “friendly banter.”

Now wrapped in towels and standing at the sink, Chris grins with amusement as Y/N twists her hair up and tucks it into a makeshift turban.

“You look stupid as fuck.”

“It’s just easier to do it like this! It stays out of the way,” she defends, scoffing as she reaches for his face wash on the counter.

Chris hums in response, tone laced with disbelief—even though there’s really nothing to doubt.

“You need to invest in some skincare,” Y/N mutters, massaging cleanser into her face.

“I have moisturizer. That not enough for you?”

“No.” She replies flatly as she leans down to rinse off the lather. “Go get dressed, I’ll be out in a sec.”

Chris huffs like a kid sent to his room, dragging his feet exaggeratedly as he trudges out of the bathroom.

A couple minutes pass, and Chris is already growing impatient.

“Hurry uppppp,” he whines, throwing his head back just as she steps out of the bathroom, her wet hair now free from the towel.

“Jesus, you’re clingy,” she teases.

Before he can defend himself, she cuts in again. “I needa borrow clothes. I feel weird wearing the same shit from yesterday.”

“Just say you want more Freshlove, it’s okay—I get it,” he teases, a stupidly smug look on his face.

Every time she comes over, she ends up leaving with another piece from his brand—whether it’s a color she didn’t have yet or one of the trial hoodies he always has one too many of.

Y/N rolls her eyes and lets the towel drop. Just a couple weeks ago, she would’ve hesitated to be in a bikini in front of him. But now that he’s seen every inch of her, she doesn’t really care to cover up anymore.

“Believe what you wanna believe,” she responds, strolling over to his closet and digging through the cardboard box of Freshlove mishaps and extras.

"Hurry up, i'm hungry," Chris urges as he grabs both of their phones from his nightstand, pocketing them so she doesn't forget. "Relax, relax, i'm hurryin'."

She lifts a hoodie and a pair of shorts from the box. “Since when did ya make shorts?” she asks, holding them up to her hips to guesstimate the fit.

“Since summer’s rollin’ 'round,” Chris shrugs. “Figured sweatpants ain't exactly ideal in the heat.”

“Hm. Well, just a tip—make them lower-waisted next time,” she says, slipping them on and folding over the waistband to sit lower on her hips. As a low-rise girl, she’s always hated mid-rise—somehow less flattering than high and way more uncomfortable.

“Noted,” he says, turning on his heel and heading upstairs to the main floor of the house he shares with his brothers. Y/N pulls the hoodie over her head and fixes the hood.

She follows Chris upstairs, tugging at the neck of the oversized hoodie as she steps into the living room—freezing when she spots Nick and Matt. Both of them are sat on the couch, arms crossed, wearing matching tired, fed-up expressions.

“Thin walls, man.” Matt states flatly, the annoyance in his voice just barely masking just how amusing he actually finds this.

“Uh huh,” Chris replies like he doesn't care enough to acknowledge it, already halfway to the fridge to grab his morning Pepsi.

He’s clearly amused. Y/N, on the other hand, is absolutely mortified. Her face burns hot as she stares anywhere but at Matt or Nick, silently hoping for the moment to pass.

“You want somethin' to eat? I’m makin’ breakfast,” Chris questions as he digs through the fridge, grabbing a carton of eggs and package of bacon.

“Um… sure,” she replies, her voice soft. She shifts her weight awkwardly, eyes flicking to the side as she avoids the boys’ lingering stares.

Y/N bites her lip, standing stiff in the middle of the kitchen. She’s never felt awkward around the boys, and especially not shy; but now, with both of them staring at her like they know what happened (which they do), it's hard to not be.

She shuffles over to Chris as he rummages through the cabinets, searching for a frying pan. He notices her immediately, closing the cabinet and pulling her in by the hip. His hand slides beneath the oversized hoodie, gliding slowly over the curve of her side in a quiet, comforting gesture.

Chris turns to face her, his hand lingering at her waist. “You good?” he asks, scanning her expression with furrowed brows.

She gives a small nod and hums in response, eyes unintentionally flicking toward the living room.

“Let ’em be annoyed,” he shrugs, dismissing his brothers' grouchy attitudes. “They’ll get over it.”

He hooks his arms around her and pulls her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“Ya better get used to this,” he mumbles into her hair, voice soft with certainty. “’Cause I ain't lettin’ you go anywhere.”

a/n: okie, THIS is the last and FINAL part of my bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader series😭 i was gonna leave it at that little cliff hanger, but this short lil morning after blurb was requested so i figured why not!! thx for reading cuties !!

dividers: all me!! feel free to use, they're just lines and emoticons after all, nothin fancy😭

taglist!!: @jjmaybankswifes-blog @courta13 @sophand4n4

©.urvampygf

[sturnvdds]

fratboy!chris uses shy!readers tummy to sort out his edibles and package them, but when one thing leads to another...

based off this ask.

you're lying still as you possibly can, your body pliant beneath chris' touch as your gaze stays fixed on his hands, watching as he sorts the colourful edible gummies scattered across your tummy, acting like some sort of human countertop.

one by one, he groups them by colour—reds with reds, greens with greens, oranges with oranges, and so forth—before carefully sealing them into small plastic bags only for him to start the process all over again.

earlier, you had been far too energetic for chris to deal with; something about today just put a spring in your step, leaving you happy and buzzing as you bounced around the room—feet thumping against the floor and words tumbling from your lips in an endless stream until chris snapped, forcing you to remain still and quiet in promise of a treat later.

it worked.

you had laid down and stilled instantly.

those sweet, strawberry-flavoured lollipops that you love so much—the ones that he refuses to tell you where he gets them from—was enough to keep you obedient for the time being, but now, you're beginning to get a little fussy.

"stay," he warns you as you shift slightly, causing a few gummies to roll out of place. you let out a huff, but his eyes snap to yours, narrowing. "watch it."

"i don't want to do this anymore," you murmur, your lips pushing into a pout, yet despite your words, you don't actually move—apart from your eyes which flit back down to the gummies scattered across your tummy. "what flavour are the red ones?"

"raspberry." he answers flatly, not looking up from his task.

"why not strawberry?"

"'cos they're raspberry."

you pause for a moment before asking another, "what flavour are the green ones?"

"watermelon." he says, not missing a beat.

"why not apple? greens are usually—"

"bun." he hisses at you through clenched teeth, glaring at you.

the warning in his voice makes you press your lips together into a tight line, silencing yourself on instinct. you're left in the quietness of the room again, the only sound heard is the faint rustling of the bags that chris fills and moves to the side.

you can feel yourself getting antsy again, and before long, you're lightly wiggling your foot and toes, trying to shake off that stuck, heaving feeling of staying still for so long.

chris doesn't speak, but he notices, and he shuffles forward, his waist pressing down against your foot to pin it in place. the weight is firm, and it stops you immediately, but the pout on your face deepens—your brows knitting together as you peer down at him again.

the question slips out before you even realise it, "what flavour are the yellow ones?"

"lemon." his tone is flat again, like the answer should've been completely obvious, but you don't take the hint of the annoyance in his tone.

"do you think they make banana ones?"

"probably."

"i like bananas."

"i know."

for a moment, you're quiet again, now staring up at the ceiling. usually, you're fine with quietness, you didn't mind it every now and then. but for whatever reason, this time you didn't like it—it was strange.

was it because he was doing something, admittingly so, intimate? of course he wouldn't see it that way, he never will. to you it felt intimate—having to lay here, completely still, letting him use a part of your body to 'help' him do something.

well, it wasn't exactly to 'help' him—you were just irritating him with your energy, he wanted you to calm down. it should make you a little upset, but the thought of the treat he promised to give you after all this is completed makes you feel a lot better, a smile finding its way across your face.

however, the smile falters when you feel something wet and warm graze across your tummy, and your attention shoots down, the muscles in your core tensing as you watch chris mouth at the leftover gummies—his tongue flicking across your skin in his path.

"w-what are you—"

"shh." he interrupts you, hovering over another gummy before taking it into his mouth, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise.

you squirm beneath him, your own breathing quickening as his lips brush against your navel, using his tongue to lick at a stray gummy resting over your belly button—chewing it slowly as he makes his way further down.

without warning, as usual, chris shoves his face between your thighs, his nose pressing against your underwear and you gasp, a strangled noise following as his tongue darts out, licking a slow path along the already damp fabric of your panties.

your hands fidget at your sides, fingers twisting in the bedsheets, your broken whimpers filling the room as he hooks his fingers beneath the band, pulling your soaked panties—all thanks to his tongue—to the side to expose your puffy pussy to the cool air, causing you to shiver.

he dives in, mouth attaching to your slick folds, tongue working its familiar magic over your clit, his arms curling around your thighs to keep you still for him to feast. your hips jerk involuntarily, uncontrollably noises seeping past your lips as your head falls back.

you're lost in the sensation already, tummy sucking in with large gasps of air, your spine arching off the bed as your toes curl in your socks—thighs trembling beneath his hold as you squirm again, unable to control the movement of your body as his tongue dips in and out of you, slurping you up so loudly that you throw your arm over your face to cover it.

"don't hide from me, bun," he speaks against your pussy, the vibrations making a whimper fall from your lips. "y'know i don't like that shit. watch me."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[sturnvdds]

clingy!sweetheart!chris x reader ☹️☹️

[sturnvdds]

—chris attempting to talk you through slow sex

your laying down on your back on chris’s bed, your legs bent against your chest as chris slowly thrusts into you from on top of you.

his thrusts are slow and sensual—making sure you feel every inch of him. his eyes are locked onto yours, making sure he sees every single expression you make.

“feel me baby? feel me in—inside you?” he says weakly, his brows knitting together as continuously thrusts in and out of you. you part your lips to answer, but all that comes out in a breathy moan. chris smirks as he watches you struggle.

the sounds of your arousal mixing with his precum every single thrust just adds to the moment. he pulls out, only his tip in you before thrusting back in with more force, making you moan out and your eyes shut. he lets out a low groan at the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

“yeah, y’like that? y’feel me deep inside you ma?” he says, his voice low and almost shaky.

“y—yes chris, right there—“ you whimper out as his tip repeatedly kissed your cervix. he adjusts your legs so their pressed tighter against your chest, making him hit impossibly deeper inside you. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me.” he demands, one hand grabbing your jaw possessively, the other holding him upright above you. you open your eyes despite how hard it is due to it feeling so good.

“mhmmm, s’good for me.” he groans out when you listen to him, his thrusts becoming the slightest bit faster as he gets deeper.

he feels your walls clenching more and more around him, your moans getting louder, your body tensing—all signs of you getting close. “yeah? y’gonna—gonna cum all f’me hm?” he grunts out, trying to keep the slow pace for you. you can only briefly nod, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. he’s close too—his thrusts becoming more sporadically, his low groans and moans becoming louder.

“chris—i’m gonna cum—shit—“ you moan out before your vision practically turns white, your body tensing before you tip over the edge, moaning his name loudly. your jaw is agape, back arching off of the bed, thighs shaking.

he blabbers out random nonsense, the feeling building in his lower belly becoming overwhelmingly good. your release triggers his own.

he cums right after you do, his hips studdering inside you before his dick releases hot ropes of cum deep in your pussy. his eyes roll into the back of his head, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

a/n: i fuck with mating press heavy+all my stuff soundin the same😭😭

[sturnvdds]

I have very crazy thoughts about this

[sturnvdds]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

( Bsf!Chris x Inexperienced!Reader )

after getting interrupted by Matt and Nick before they could go all the way, Reader and Chris find a way to continue where they left off, pushing the finally boundary.

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3

-`✮´- 5.9k

contains. tension, pining, flirting, teasing, making out, fingering, protected p in v. getting caught?

Chris's hair was still messy, face lightly flushed like he just jogged a mile. His brothers noticed, but neither of them cared enough to ask.

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N's eyes always found their way back to him, like her body hadn’t caught up to the part where they stopped.

Just forty minutes ago, his jaw had gone slack. Eyebrows drawn tight. So lost in the pleasure she gave him, he didn’t even care how he looked.

That image kept replaying—over and over again—burned into her mind. She couldn't stop thinking about him.

Ever the clueless motherfucker, he was sprawled on the couch, hand casually half-down his sweatpants, lazily scrolling through his socials like he wasn’t a living reminder of what they left hanging. He was totally oblivious to what the sight of him did to her.

“I’m fuckin’ tired…” Matt mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he stood up and stretched.

“Kid, it’s only ten,” Chris said, looking up at him with a confused squint.

Matt didn’t bother responding—just shuffled off to his room without another word.

Chris glanced over at Nick, who offered a lazy shrug. “He was whinin’ about bein’ tired the entire fucking car ride.”

Chris scoffed under his breath, shaking his head.

A beat of silence settled over the three of them—awkward for two, unnoticed by one.

Nick stayed glued to his phone, scrolling through TikTok comments without a clue.

Chris’s eyes drifted to Y/N. His hand slid down to his thigh, rubbing awkwardly over the fabric with his palms like he's trying to think up something to say.

“Can we do something? The silence is killing me,” Y/N said, her voice a little smaller than usual.

“Whaddaya wanna do? Watch a movie? Watch RuPaul?..” Nick offered, muttering the last part like he was trying to hide it under the rest.

Chris groaned, throwing his head back and dragging his palms over his face. “We’re not watching RuPaul.”

He didn’t realize it, but the way his neck stretched, the low whine in his voice, the way his shirt rode up just a little—none of it was helping Y/N keep her mind clean.

Her eyes darted quickly away, like that would help.

“Well, fuck me then! I’m just throwin’ shit out there!” Nick exclaimed, flailing his arms toward Chris like he was shooing off a particularly annoying bug.

Y/N bit back a grin, an idea forming. “We could watch a show…” she offered, mimicking Nick’s mutter and smiling to herself.

“What show?” Chris asked, finally dropping his head to look at her. His arms sprawled across the back of the couch.

She just wiggles her eyebrows with a smile.

Chris narrowed his eyes. “If you say Supernatural—so help me God.”

“Whaaaat? It’s a good show!”

“You literally only watch it ‘cause you think Jared Padalecki is hot.”

Nick snorted, shaking his head at them like they were kids on a sugar high.

“Okay, yeah, that’s why I started, but I stayed 'cause the plot.”

“The plot being the six-foot-four star of the show? Yeah, okay—sure,” Chris shot back, his tone full of mock annoyance.

Nick stood with a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the popcorn.”

“Why do you know his exact height, weirdo?” Y/N teased, eyes narrowing with a grin.

Chris pushed off the couch without warning, moving to sit beside her—closer than necessary.

She barely had time to react, assuming he was just annoyed enough to want to argue at arm’s reach.

But really, he’d just been waiting for a reason to be near her again.

“Just one measly google search’ll tell ya,” he muttered, voice lower now, tone shifting between them.

Y/N swallowed, nervously looking off to the side, attempting to escape his proximity.

Chris knows he’s got her now.

A slow, proud grin creeps onto his face as he leans in just enough to make her nervous.

He nods toward her, squinting his eye just a bit.

“What’d you mean earlier?” he asks, tone light but undeniably loaded. “Ya said, ‘you will.’ I will what, hm?”

Y/N’s breath hitches.

“I–… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, eyes falling to his pink lips before she could stop herself.

Chris’s grin only widened. He gave a single, smug nod before leaning back against the couch, arms spread lazily like he knew he won.

“Sure ya don’t.”

“YOU WANT BUTTER ON THE POPCORN?” Nick shouted from the kitchen, his voice trying—and failing—to rise above the microwave.

The tension between them shattered instantly.

Both of them burst into stifled laughter, hands flying up to cover their mouths as their heads drop, shoulders shaking.

“Sure!” Chris called back, his voice cracking with the effort of holding it together.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Chris slouched into the couch cushion beside her, arms crossed like it physically pained him to give in.

“One episode,” he grumbled. “This is gonna be so dumb.”

Chris and Nick sat on either side of Y/N, the three of them squished together on the couch, the TV casting a faint blue glow across their faces.

“You’ll survive,” Y/N said with a triumphant grin, unable to hide her satisfaction as she pressed play.

Chris behaved for the first twenty minutes of the episode—arms crossed, head tilted back, only occasionally rolling his eyes. But when he noticed both Nick and Y/N were fully absorbed in the screen, he decided to push his luck.

Under the blanket draped across their laps, his hand drifted toward Y/N’s thigh—slow and casual, like he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary.

She didn’t react.

So he let it creep higher, fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles into her skin.

Y/N’s breathing faltered—soft and shaky. Her eyes flicked over to him for half a second before snapping back to the screen, her posture straightening just enough to give her away.

Chris smirked, but said nothing. His gaze was still fixed on the TV, although he wasn't pretending to pay attention anymore.

Y/N darts her eyes between the brothers, heart pounding as she checked whether Nick had noticed what Chris was doing under the blanket. He hadn’t.

Hesitantly, she slowly spread her legs, just enough to make room for his touch. Her upper body stayed rigid, jaw tight and shoulders tense.

She didn’t dare look at Chris. She couldn’t. The embarrassment forced a heat to her cheeks. All she could do was stare at the screen, pretending she was still following the plot.

Y/N kept her composure—even as his fingers toyed with the waistband of her shorts, slow and unhurried. She glanced over at him, trying to be subtle.

He didn’t meet her gaze. Just sat there, eyes on the screen, that stupid fucking smile playing on his lips like he was proud of himself.

Her heart rate quickened. He was enjoying this—way too much.

His hand slipped beneath her shorts, warm fingers brushing against bare skin. Y/N let out a soft gasp before she could stop herself.

Somehow, Nick didn’t notice.

But Chris did.

Without missing a beat, his fingers kept moving slowly, deliberately. His eyes never left the screen, but that cocky, barely-there smile remained.

Y/N pressed her thighs together instinctively, her breath hitching again. Her face burned, but she didn’t stop him.

“Ugh, I’m so fucking tired. I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta stop—I’m like passin’ out over here.”

Nick’s voice cut through the quiet, causing Chris to flinch, quickly pulling his hand from her panties. He let it rest casually on her thigh, trying not to draw attention.

Y/N could hear him sigh, soft and irritated. She watched him shift his hips, subtly adjusting himself.

“Aww… you can't thug it out for ten more minutes?” she teased, giving Nick a mock pout—like that was what she was upset about.

“Maybe we can finish it tomorrow?” Nick mumbled, already heading upstairs.

“Okay, we can do that,” Y/N replied softly, forcing a small smile even though her excitement was clearly lost on the room.

She watched him disappear down the hall, her shoulders slumping slightly.

“I’ve been tryna get y’all to watch this fuckin’ show with me for months…” Y/N murmured, not exactly sad—just tired.

Chris blinked slowly, then tilted his head toward her. “M’sorry. Wanna finish the episode?”

He finally looked at her. Really looked.

His eyes were soft, apologetic in a way that made her heart flutter.

She shrugged, lips twitching into a faint smile. “You’ll just complain the whole time.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, nudging her leg with his knee. “But I’ll still watch it.”

“…Will you?” Y/N asks, voice barely above a whisper, eyes lifting to meet his.

“Me and you both know we’re not gonna actually watch it.”

It wasn’t a flirty line, more of a statement.

Chris’s gaze lingered, squinting subtly as her processed her words.

“You wanna elaborate on that?” he asked, lips tugging into a grin, though his voice was quieter than usual.

He turned to fully face her now, knee brushing hers beneath the blanket—teasing, sure, but the care in his expression is evident.

“Chris…”

Y/N searches his eyes, trying to force him to see it. She's too nervous to say it aloud.

He blinks slowly, like he’s gathering the courage to meet her there.

Then he moves to hold her hand in his; the touch sweet and warm.

“Yes?..” he murmurs, eyes locked on hers, his voice quieter than it’s been all night.

Y/N’s eyes fixate on his pink, pouty lips, like she can't keep them off of him.

Chris catches on, a knowing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Slowly, his hand slides to rest on her waist.

This pulls her attention back up to his face.

“Whaddaya want, hm?” He teases, his voice condescendingly sweet; he knows what he's doing.

She shifts uncomfortably, sighing and glancing away as if to escape his gaze. But her quiet, hesitant voice betrays her.

“You already know…”

Chris tilts his head, eyes scanning her face as he studies every flicker of hesitation. He leans closer and whispers,

“Yeah… but I wanna hear you say it.”

His lips graze her neck, that toothy grin never leaving his face. He presses a gentle kiss to her skin, pulling her closer by the waist.

Y/N’s eyes flutter shut, her fingers instinctively burying themselves in his soft, chocolate hair.

“C’mon… tell me.” His voice is low, a playful taunt that makes her pulse race, his lips trailing up to her jaw.

“F-fuck Chris—.. not fair…” Y/N whispers breathlessly, tilting her head back slightly as if trying to escape the tension without really wanting to.

Chris chuckles softly against the warm skin of her neck before pulling back, his eyes scanning hers with want.

“I’m not doin' anything 'til ya tell me,” he murmurs gently, a playful squint in his eyes as his cocky smirk fades into something more amused, but genuine.

He waits for her answer, but his gaze softens, almost like he’s trying to guide her through the hesitation rather than just challenge her.

Y/N looks up at him through her lashes, a small pout playing on her lips, her face flushed with warmth. Her head tilts slightly to the side, like a puppy who’s just heard a word it likes.

Chris’s smile widens, like he can’t help it. The teasing is gone now, replaced by amusement. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?” he asks, his tone playful and easy, as if this were any other regular situation.

He scans her face, his eyes flicking between hers like he’s trying to read her mind, figure out what she’s thinking that’s got her looking at him like that. She doesn’t answer right away, just shifts her eyes down to her lap.

“I don’t know…” she mumbles with a shy smile, laughing softly like she’s trying to shrug off the weight of the moment.

Chris tilts his head and leans down, ducking low enough to look up and catch her eyes—even as they try to stay hidden.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice just above a whisper, coaxing her gaze up to meet his.

“Talk t’me,” Chris says, voice low and easy. “Why you so shy? After allat big talk earlier?”

There’s no flirt in his tone—just a friendly tease, trying to make her smile and settle her nerves.

Y/N huffs a quiet laugh through her nose. “’Cause I know what comes next… 'nd I’m nervous,” she admits, voice small, eyes still glued to her hands in her lap.

Chris doesn’t respond, but his hand slips down to her thigh, warm and steady. The silence stretches between them.

“What comes next?” he asks softly, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her say it anyway.

She finally looks up at him, her teeth catching her bottom lip. “I want it to be you, Chris,” she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear.

His expression softens. He lifts a hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing slow and sweet across her flushed skin.

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You sure?”

Y/N nods slowly, and without missing a beat, Chris scoops her off the couch and throws her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing.

“Chris!” she squeals, laughter bubbling from her chest as he strides toward his room.

It worked. He eased her nerves, got her laughing again.

She’ll never know it, but every offbeat, ridiculous thing he does when she’s around—it’s for that smile.

He drops her onto the bed with a grin; gentle, but clearly in a rush.

Her giggles fade as he climbs over her, locking his eyes on hers.

Chris tilts his head like he’s thinking. “You getting déjà vu, or am I alone here?”

His eyes drag down her body, a dorky smile on his face, like he knows he's being annoying.

Y/N rolls her eyes with a grin. “You mean when you were jerking off to me orrr when you were begging to eat me out?”

Chris shoots her a deadpan look. “Hilarious,” he mutters, lips twitching in a flat, unamused smile.

They lock eyes, neither of them moving, just breathing in sync. “You gonna kiss me, or just keep starin'?” Y/N asks, her voice quiet but daring.

Chris scoffs in amusement. His hand slides to her waist, squeezing lightly as he leans closer, his other forearm planted beside her head.

“Say please,” he murmurs, low and deliberate.

Y/N hesitates, then mumbles a small “Please,” her voice barely above a whisper.

“Atta girl,” Chris breathes, his voice low and lazy, before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers—soft at first, then deeper, more passionate.

He wastes no time, letting his hands roam eagerly over her body, savoring the feel of her under his touch. With a firm grip, he parts her thighs, settling between them—his knee brushing up just close enough to where she needs him.

The kiss turns messy quick; hot and wet, like everything he held back earlier is finally being let loose.

“Chriiiis, c’mon…” Y/N whines beneath him, her voice soft and impatient, breath catching against his lips.

“What? Not a fan of foreplay?” he murmurs into her mouth, smirking against her plump, parted lips. His mouth drifts lower, brushing over her jaw before latching onto the skin just below it, sucking slow bruises that dive her crazy into the delicate skin.

She doesn’t play into his game. Instead, her fingers slip down to the waistband of his sweats, tugging gently, almost shy. A silent question.

Chris doesn’t slow his heated assault on her neck, lips wet and insistent as he shuffles out of his sweats. His hands move with purpose now, sliding around her back and dragging her flush against him, like he needs every inch of her close.

Y/N hisses softly when his teeth graze her neck, soothed a moment later by the warm swipe of his tongue. Chris’s hands slide beneath her shirt, thumbs pushing the fabric upward—just like last time. Only this time, there’s nothing sweet about it. His touch is hungrier, more desperate, like he’s starving for her.

Her shirt hits the floor fast, followed by her bra in the same rush. Chris’s mouth finds her nipple instantly, his tongue flicking over the sensitive nub, wet and eager. He tugs her upright without effort, and somehow—neither of them could say exactly when—she ends up straddling his lap.

Y/N’s head tips back, lips parted, eyebrows knitting tight as a soft breath escapes her. One hand curls into the back of his neck, fingers winding through his hair. Chris pulls away from her flushed skin just long enough to glance up at her with a smirk.

“Y'really like my hair, huh?”

An embarrassed scoff slips from Y/N’s lips. “Shut up,” she mutters, unable to bite down her smile.

Chris just laughs, hands tracing down her back before giving her ass a playful squeeze.

“Chris!” she squeaks, swatting his chest with wide eyes and a shocked, reluctant smile.

His lazy eyes look up at her smugly as his fingers slip under the waistband of her pants, grabbing a handful of bare skin. “What? Actin' like you didn’t already know I’m an ass man.”

Y/N shoots him a deadpan glare, but her face softens as she feels her pants being eased down.

“I’ll be gentle,” Chris mumbles, his voice low as he leans in, lips brushing against hers. “Promise.”

He lowers her onto her back, guiding her down off his lap with care. Then, with a painful slowness, he slides her pants down her legs—a deliberate contrast to the last time they were like this.

Y/N’s breath quickens as the nerves creep in, her eyes flicking up to his in search of reassurance.

Chris meets her gaze and holds it, then slowly pulls his shirt over his head—purposefully slow, like he’s teasing her with every second.

He leans over her to open the nightstand drawer, grabbing a condom and tossing it lightly onto the bed beside them. She tenses beneath him, and he catches it instantly, shaking his head with a soft laugh through his nose.

“Relax,” he murmurs, amusement behind his eyes and subtle smile but his voice warm. “I’m not gonna jump in dick first or anything. I gotchu—I’ll take my time, promise.”

Y/N nods softly, her eyes flickering across his bare chest. She’s seen him like this countless times before, but now—looming over her, leaning in to press gentle, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder—it feels different.

Suddenly, the sight of him without a shirt isn’t casual anymore. Every subtle dip and line in his torso makes her skin warm, sending a flush to her cheeks and neck.

“Ya starin’,” Chris teases, lazily smiling down at her as he sits back on his heels—like he’s presenting himself.

Y/N’s eyes go wide, heat rushing to her face. She quickly turns her head, burying it in her shoulder.

“Sorry…” she mumbles, voice meek and unsure.

Chris drops his head, biting back a laugh, shoulders shaking with the effort.

He rests his hands on her thighs, eyes darting up to meet hers with a teasing glint.

Chris leans back down, lips brushing along her jaw before trailing slowly to her collarbone. “You okay?” he asks softly between kisses, hands resting warm and steady on her waist.

She nods, a little breathless, and he grins.

“Good. Just makin’ sure. Don’t want you gettin’ all shy on me.”

“I don’t— I don’t get shy…” Y/N mumbles, embarrassment heating her cheeks even further.

Chris’s lips twitch into a grin. “Sure you don’t.”

His hand glides slowly along her waist, then dips lower to gently grip beneath her thigh, easing her legs apart.

His fingers trail over her soaked folds, middle and ring finger gathering her slick before slowly pushing them in.

“Mm.. Chris—” she moans out, the tension in her shoulders slowly melting as his fingers move inside her.

His lips trail up her jaw, nipping gently between kisses, pulling more of those quiet mewls from her throat.

Chris curls his fingers. Every movement feels featherlight, like he’s scared he might break her.

“Y’so tight,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “Ya know it’s gonna hurt a lil' no matter how careful I am, right?”

His voice is soft, laced with concern. He doesn’t want to scare her; but more than that, he doesn’t want to hurt her. Not now, not ever.

Y/N bites her lip and nods, eyes trailing slowly over his body before darting back up at his.

“Yeah… but I want this, Chris.” Her voice is soft and steady. She cups his face in both hands, thumbs brushing his cheeks.

“I want you.”

His gaze locks on hers, scanning her eyes like he’s searching for a reason to stop, an excuse to pull away and not cross that final line.

Fucking my best friend. The thought alone nearly makes him flinch.

But he doesn’t find doubt in her eyes. Only trust and love.

It almost scares him off.

Almost.

But he leans in anyway.

“I want you too… s'fucking bad, baby.” His voice is rough and breathless; he's so fucking desperate to feel her around him.

In a rush, he pushes his boxers down just enough, fumbling as he reaches for the condom on the bed. With one hand, he strokes himself a couple of times, her wetness still coating his fingers, mixing with the slick already gathering at his tip.

Y/N’s eyes flit to his aching length, and her face flushes with heat. She’s seen his cock before, just earlier today actually, but this feels real. She knows what’s about to happen, and yet it still feels impossible to prepare for.

Chris tears the condom wrapper open carefully, using his teeth to split the edge. He blows gently into the center to make sure it’s the right way around—a small gesture, but not one he usually bothers with. Normally, he’d just roll it on in a rush, too wrapped up in the moment to care. But this isn’t like before. With Y/N, he slows down. He doesn’t want to take chances, doesn’t want her to feel anything less than safe. With her, every detail matters.

Chris carefully rolls the condom down over his hard dick, making sure it’s on properly. He glances up, catching the nervous look on Y/N’s face.

“Hey, nah, don’t look like that,” he says softly, shaking his head. “You’re okay, ma. Jus' lemme take care of you.”

He leans over her, brushing a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips. “I’ma make ya feel good. Trust,” he mumbles softly as he lines himself up with her entrance. He doesn’t push in, resting there to give her time, letting her adjust to the moment.

“I know you will… I’m just—still scared,” Y/N breathes against his lips, her voice quiet and almost ashamed. Her eyes flick between his, wide and searching, like she’s holding onto his gaze for confidence.

Chris’s eyes soften as he slides the head of his cock slowly through her folds, already covered in her slick. He leans in to press a kiss to her shoulder, mumbling against her skin between warm, lingering pecks, “Don’t be. I’ll be good. Jus' tell me when you’re ready.”

He breathes in deeply through his nose, like he’s trying to keep his desire at bay.

Y/N sighs shakily, ghosting her hands up his torso, fingertips brushing lightly over the faint lines of muscle like she’s anchoring herself. “Okay… I’m ready,” she whispers.

Chris grips her hip, his thumb tracing slow, calming circles into the soft flesh as he carefully guides himself in. He pauses once the head slips past her entrance, eyes shifting up to study her face.

Y/N’s attention is fixed where their bodies connect, her breath cutting short in her throat; until the pressure overtakes her focus and she throws her head back with a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth falls open.

“You doin’ alright?” Chris questions, his voice low and a little strained—like he’s holding himself back with everything he has.

Y/N nods wordlessly, eyes squeezed shut, too overwhelmed to look at him again.

“Yeah… don’t stop,” she breathes, her quiet words coming out as a needy whin.

Chris exhales softly, easing in a little more, his movements slow and careful. He's more gentle than he's ever been, not hurting her being the only thing on his mind despite the blinding ache in his cock.

Y/N hisses at the pressure, her body tightening instinctively The stretch is overwhelming, too much all at once.

“I know, I know. M'sorry… just—just breathe, take a sec. Let yourself adjust,” Chris comforts her with a soft and steady voice as he moved his hand from his dick to her other hip, no longer needing to guide himself.

She finally blinks her eyes open, meeting Chris’s heavy gaze. Just by the look on his face, it’s clear he’s holding back more than he ever has.

The sharp pain from the stretch between her legs lingers, tears welling in her eyes from the pressure alone.

Y/N’s hands come up to rest at the sides of his neck, pulling him into a needy kiss. It’s messy although softer this time, less hurried and more sensual.

He pushes in a bit further, drawing a gasp from her lips. His mouth trails along her skin, kissing and sucking sweetly at her shoulder as her hands shoot up into his hair.

Chris wants to make another snarky comment so desperately, but he refrains—choosing to whisper soft praises into her neck instead.

“Ya doin’ s’good f’me, mama… so fuckin’ good,” he groans out, voice slurred and heavy with need. “You’ll feel good in a bit, promise…”

He pushes in deeper, nearly bottoming out. Y/N lets out a quiet, strained whine that makes him freeze. Chris pulls away from her neck, searching her face with wide, worried eyes.

“Did I hurt you? M’so fuckin’ sorry, baby.”

His voice is heavy with guilt as he presses a soft kiss to her lips, the gesture an apology all on its own.

“I—I’m okay,” she whispers, her voice breathy and small. “Please… don’t stop.”

The way the words leave her lips makes it sound like she’s almost ashamed of how badly she wants him; so quiet and desperate, pathetic even.

Chris’s eyes darken at her words, and he finally bottoms out with a slow, measured push before pausing to let her adjust. The sting is deep, intense—hurting so bad yet so fucking good.

“Fu-uck… so fuckin’ tight,” Chris growls lowly, dropping his head until his forehead rests against her shoulder.

The change in posture gives her a clear view of his back, the soft muscles stretched over his shoulder blades, flexing with every breath he takes.

“Please tell me I can move—” he begs hastily, cutting himself off with a sharp exhale. His voice cracks, just barely, but it’s enough.

The sound of him so whiny, breathy, and desperate makes the dull ache in her core begin to fade.

It’s the most needy he’s ever sounded. And it’s so fucking hot.

Y/N rolls her hips subtly against his, pulling a groan from deep in his throat.

“Shit—ya killin’ me here, Y/N,” he mumbles, lifting his head to look at her with soft laughter between words, like he's trying to cover up his embarrassment.

She can’t help the small smile that pulls at her lips. For once, she’s the one driving him crazy.

“Yeah? Am I?” Y/N teases, biting back a moan just to get at him.

Chris scoffs, shutting her up in his own little fucked up way. He pulls almost all the way out of her slick cunt before slowly pushing back in, getting sucked deeper with every inch. He's gentle, he knows he doesn’t need to be rough to put her in her place.

A real laugh rumbles from his chest when she gasps, whimpering and squeezing her eyes shut. The little smile disappears from her face, replaced by a harsh lip bite.

“You were saying?” he taunts, rolling his hips against hers.

“Fuck, Chris—” Y/N gasps, clawing at his back, needing something to ground herself as the pain gives way to aching pleasure.

“Mm, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” Chris mumbles, sucking in a breath before diving in to kiss her; the kiss hungry, open-mouthed, and desperate.

His hips roll gently against hers. One hand hooks under her thigh, pushing it toward her chest. The new angle makes her gasp, her back arching instinctively as he hits deeper.

Chris lets the sounds spill from her lips until she can’t kiss back anymore, her moans loud and desperate.

“Shhh… baby—don’t get me wrong, I love listenin’ to ya,” he teases, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “But my brothers? Not so sure ’bout them.”

He cups a hand gently over her mouth, brushing a tear softly from her cheek with his ring finger, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

Chris pants softly above her, eyes still hazy with focus. “Feelin’ good now?” he ask smugly, although there's genuine care clear in his tone.

Y/N stares up at him, glaring past his hand still pressed gently over her mouth. Her eyes drop to it, then back up to him in a pointed silence.

He smirks, still slowly dragging in and out of her.

“Just nod.”

She nods faintly, eyes rolling back as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. Chris’s mouth falls open, a low moan escaping as his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.

“Shit—s’fucking good,” he mumbles, dropping his head lazily against her shoulder, like he doesn’t want her to see how undone he's become for her.

Chris’s hand slips from her mouth to grip her hip instead, fingers pressing into her skin like he’s grounding himself.

“F-fuck—right there, please,” she whimpers, words straining slightly as her back arches off the bed.

Chris huffs a laugh out through his nose. It's not that he finds this funny, no. It's because he still can’t believe this is real.

Fucking his best friend. Hearing her moan and talk filthy under him. Something he’s thought about more times than he’d ever admit, but never dared to actually do.

“I gotchu,” he reassures lowly. “Jus’ let go f’me.”

He dips his head to capture her lips again, his tongue teasingly brushing over hers, deepening the kiss until she’s breathless. When he finally pulls back, his wet, parted lips linger against hers. They pant into each other’s mouths, eyelids heavy and faces flushed.

Their eyes lock, searching, studying—like they’re both trying to memorize this exact moment, which they are. Chris’s hips stutter, his rhythm faltering with his climax creeping in, but he holds on. He needs her to finish first. Needs to feel her fall apart around him.

“So pretty like this, baby… fuck,” he whispers, his voice caught between a sigh and a moan.

“Chris—oh fuck, I’m close,” she gasps, her voice trembling as her hands clutch at his shoulders, fingernails digging small, painful crescent shapes into the skin..

“Yeah? Shit—pussy’s so fuckin’ tight… like you were made for me,” his filthy words don't fall on deaf ears; and they would have caused Y/N to blush madly in any other circumstance, but now she's too caught up in how good he's making her feel.

Her breath hitches with each sharp thrust, her body trembling beneath him as her mouth forms into an "o" shape, eyes squeezed shut. “Chris… I—” Her words falter, a broken moan cutting her off as her hips jerk involuntarily, pushing back against him.

The tension in her core threatens to snap, her eyes squeezing shut as the sensation overwhelms her. Her legs shakes subtly, breath picking up, body growing hotter. She doesn’t need to say anything; he can feel it. The way her walls clench around him, the way her body tenses harder with each sloppy thrust.

“Fuck—cum f’me, baby. I gotchu—fuuuck…”

Chris’s forehead falls against her shoulder once more, his breath hot and ragged against her damp skin. His hands grip her hips like she’s the only thing keeping him alive, voice cracked and desperate like he’s holding on by a thread.

A string of curses spill from Y/N’s lips as Chris pushes her over the edge. Her body trembles beneath him, walls clenching tight as she unravels around him, pleasure crashing over her like a wave.

“Look at you… takin’ me so well. Such a good fucking girl.”

His cock pulses inside her, still hard, still aching. He kisses her again. Not as cautious this time, but still careful, rolling his hips in smooth, deliberate motions. The room is quiet except for the sound of skin on skin and their shared breaths.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, even though the look in her eyes says she wants more.

He leans down, his voice desperate, lips ghosting over hers. “Say somethin’, please… just—fuck, talk to me.”

Y/N blinks up at him through the haze, soft and spent but still trying. “You feel s'fucking good, Chris,” she whispers, broken and honest.

That’s it. That’s all it takes.

His hips stutter, rhythm breaking as he looks up at her through his lashes, a strangled moan ripping from his chest. “F-fuck, baby—m’gonna cum—”

His brows are furrowed, lips parted in a silent “o” as he mirrors the expression she wore earlier. Everything about him in that moment is hot, but what's really sexy is the eye contact. He doesn’t look away, not even for a second, staring straight through her as he cums.

Chris drives in a couple more times, then stills, his shoulders trembling as he finally lets go. His breath catches, muscles tight as he pulses inside the condom, buried deep inside her sore, used up pussy.

He groans her name into her skin like it's all he can do, hands trembling subtly where they hold her. He doesn’t move for a moment—just stays there, panting, overwhelmed, in total bliss.

“Y’okay, mama?” Chris mumbles into her neck, his voice soft and worn with exhaustion.

“Mhm,” she hums, arms looping around his neck to pull him closer, holding him against her.

He lazily lifts himself to look down at her, still catching his breath. “Good first time?” he questions, licking his parted lips.

“Better than good,” Y/N replies softly, her gaze warm as she looks into his bright blue eyes, still dark with lingering lust.

Chris smiles down at her, sighing as he slowly pulls out. The emptiness that follows makes Y/N wince, her eyes squinting as she watches his softening cock leave her.

Chris sits back on his heels, carefully rolling the condom off, tying it, and then slipping out of bed. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment, tossing it into the garbage before returning to her side.

A comfortable silence sits between them. Y/N shifts closer, wincing slightly from the soreness but craving the warmth of his skin. She nestles into his side, her voice slightly hoarse against his chest.

“Thank you.”

Chris hums in response, quiet and content, eyes fluttering shut as he rests his chin gently on top of her head.

Their breathing falls into sync. Without a word, Chris’s hand drifts up to lazily play with her hair as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed, her body finally relaxing as sleepiness starts to take over.

That is, until Chris suddenly lets out a snort of laughter—sharp and unexpected—jolting her halfway back to consciousness.

“What?” Y/N mumbles, blinking up at Chris as his chest trembles with quiet laughter.

He doesn’t answer, just turns his phone toward her, one hand covering his mouth.

On the lock screen, notifications are stacked—most ignored—but one stands out in bold at the top.

A text from Matt, sent less than a minute ago:

“Fuck quietly next time please.”

a/n: heyooo!! told ya i was gonna post it today, just never said how late🌝 sososo SO sorry for the hold up, i rewrote this forty times, took a break from it, and still kind of hate it. this is the final part of my little bsf!chris x inexperienced!ready journey!! (unless yall rlly want a second trilogy👀) i thank everyone who stuck with this lil mini series and to those who r just now finding this, thx for checking me out!! if you wanna be added to my taglist for future works of mine, simply comment on this post!! (in the future i'll have specific taglists for certain series, au's etc, i promise.. im just too lazy rn😁) again, thank u sm for giving me a chance, luv ya!!

dividers: all me!! feel free to use, they're just lines and emoticons after all, nothin fancy😭

taglist!!: @courta13 @hannahsturniolo @that1fangirll @h3arts4harry @leila-marie4 @chrispycremedonut @kitkatbar1275 @classystrawberrysweets @jjmaybankswifes-blog @w-rdddd @loversrockx0 @sturnixblogger @sophand4n4

©.urvampygf

[sturnvdds]

CROSSING BOUNDARIES

( Bsf!Chris x Inexperienced!Reader )

after the last time they saw each other, tensions grow between reader and Chris as they take it a step further, although not all the way just yet.

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3

-`✮´- 4k

contains. tension, pining, flirting, teasing, kissing, jerking off, handjobs.

It’s been two weeks since Chris last saw Y/N. She hasn’t exactly been avoiding him—just conveniently busy every time he asks to hang out. She isn’t ashamed or regretful about what happened between them. But she knows that their dynamic has shifted.

Now she’ll get all flustered and shy around him. She’ll make things awkward. And she doesn’t want to burden him with her nervousness—so, instead, she keeps her distance.

All is well in Y/N’s quiet avoidance—until Matt unknowingly forces her to face what she’s been running from.

Y/N shows up at the triplets’ place around 9PM. She’d almost canceled. In fact, she’d even typed out a half-hearted “might be too backed up with studying tonight” text… But then Matt sent her a dorky selfie, grinning with a family-size bag of candy, followed by a text: “This could be yours.”

So now she’s here. Standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, trying to look casual, while Chris leans on the corner of a wall—lazy smile on his face like he knew she’d come.

“Look who decided to show up,” Chris teases, his voice easy, but his eyes track her like he’s been waiting.

Y/N shrugs off her jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch.

"Blame Matt’s bribery. I’m only here for the sugar.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They sit around for a while, casually yapping Nick’s ear off while he hastily edits a video he’d been procrastinating—as per usual.

Y/N, though, is clearly caught up in her own head, stealing shy glances at Chris when she thinks no one’s looking. Matt and Nick stay oblivious, but Chris picks up on it almost immediately.

He can tell she’s nervous, maybe even a little embarrassed. Her eyes flicker to the side every time his hand just so happens to graze her thigh, and he keeps doing it, watching her reaction like it’s a game.

“I am fucking STARVED—like, I could eat a whole mother fucking horse.” Nick groans dramatically, still focused on the laptop in front of him.

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast…” Matt chimes in, a bit calmer than his brother.

“…You mean 3PM?” Y/N jabs, mocking their absolutely wrecked sleep schedules with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, kid—you’re better than us,” Matt fires back playfully, pushing himself off the couch and heading for his keys on the kitchen island.

"Where you off to, limpy?” Chris quips as he leans back against the couch, glancing over his shoulder at his brother with a proud grin.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Matt responds, his voice flat, irritation evident in his tone as he shoves his feet into his shoes.

“What’s the matter, Ya ankle hurtin’?” Chris doubles down, his arms resting casually on the back of the couch.

“I’ll kill ya,” Matt mutters nonchalantly, walking toward the front door without even sparing Chris a glance.

“If you’re gettin’ food, I’m coming with ya. You always fuck up my order,” Nick says, shutting his laptop abruptly. He’s already halfway to the door, his feet sliding into his shoes as if he’s been silently begging for a reason to take a break.

Matt, standing at the top of the stairs, raises an eyebrow, his thumbs tapping on his phone screen. “I don’t even know where we’re going yet—” He glances up, ready to protest, but Nick’s already marching past him.

“We’ll figure it out on the road!!” Nick cuts him off, grinning like he’s won some invisible battle.

They leave quickly, Matt not bothering to ask Y/N or Chris if they want anything. He knows they’ll want food, he’ll just text them once Nick makes a decision for everyone.

That leaves Chris and Y/N alone, the silence between them loud and awkward.

Y/N suddenly feels the weight of the moment. She’s alone with the guy whose face was just smushed between her thighs a couple weeks ago. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about that night—she replays it daily. It’s frustrating, especially when she’s touching herself, trying to relive the feeling of him.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be a one-time thing. Her heart says it should be—to spare her from the messy shit that always follows. But her body, her mind? They beg to differ.

Y/N shifts slightly on the couch, toying with the strings of her pants.

The silence stretches until Chris finally breaks it, his tone casual, like he’s just simply asking about the weather.

"…So, you still thinking about it?”

Her eye meet his, blinking as her heart rate picks up.

“What?”

Chris raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smug grin. That teasing glint in his eyes is impossible to miss.

“Y’know—when ya tried to kill me with your thighs.” He leans back a little, lazy confidence in his posture. “Seemed pretty into it.”

Y/N'a eyes flick down to her lap. “…Of course I think about it. Haven’t really stopped,” She mumbles, her voice quieter than usual, almost shy, which makes Chris ease up on the teasing.

“Yeah… yeah, me too.” He says it softly, voice trailing off as he tries to find the right words.

Chris shakes his head, a small laugh escaping him. “Okay, no, no, no—I’m not gonna have you goin’ all shy on me. Not happenin’.” He sighs, leaning his upper body toward her with a playful yet caring look.

“I’m not goin’ shy, I just… I don’t know. Maybe I am.” Y/N's words come out softer, the vulnerability peeking through despite her best efforts to brush it off.

“Ya know, I thought you weren’t gonna talk to me anymore,” Chris raises his concern without an ounce of hesitation.

Y/N glances at him. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“You kind of were.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between them before Y/N shyly admits, “I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

“Why not?” Chris asks, his tone losing the playfulness as his eyes narrow, confusion creeping in. His tone stays nonchalant, but his posture shifts—one palm resting on his knee, his forearm crossing over the other.

Y/N bites her lip, glancing up at him with uncertainty. She pauses, then blurts it out before she can stop herself. “That night… why did you stop me?”

Chris lets out a quiet scoff of a laugh, arms folding casually over his chest. “Oh, so that’s what’s got you all upset, huh?”

But he doesn’t dodge the question. His voice stays even, maybe a little teasing, but honest. “You were tryin' too hard,” he says simply. “Felt like you thought you owed me or somethin'.”

The words hit harder than she expected—because that was how she felt.

“I… I guess I did kinda feel like I owed you,” she admits, her voice small.

Chris tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she breathes out. “I don’t know what I’m doing with this shit…”

“Okay, but you’re not clueless,” Chris says, his voice calm. “And it’s not a big deal. You’re okay. I’m not, like… annoyed or anything.”

“I kinda am clueless,” Y/N mutters, an awkward chuckle failing to mask her insecurity.

“Oh yeah?” Chris raises a brow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “How so?”

There’s a challenge in his voice, kind of like he doesn't believe her.

“Well—” she pauses. “I’ve done shit with guys before… helped 'em get off or whatever. But no one’s ever really told me if I was doing anything right. Or wrong. I just kind of… hoped I was doin' okay.”

That got his attention. Chris turns his head, eyebrows pulling together.

“Did they ever finish?” he questions, leaning in slightly.

“Well, yeah—”

“Then you got nothing to worry about.” Chris leans back again, his tone light and dismissive. Like he’s shrugging off her worry as simple insecurity.

“But I don’t wanna guess,” Y/N protests, her voice soft and steady. “I—I wanna know.”

Chris watches her for a second. “It’s not that hard. You just go by what gets a reaction—and what doesn’t.” He pauses, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I could… show you. What I mean.”

The words hang between them, heavier than he intended. His eyes flicker to hers, nearly uncertain now.

“If you want,” he adds quickly, voice softer this time, like he's making himself nervous.

“What do you mean, show me?” she asks carefully—not uncomfortable, just hesitant; not wanting to assume too much.

Chris shrugs, trying to play it off like it’s nothing serious, even though his eyes completely follow hers. “I could show you what I like. You just watch. Shit, you could even join me… if you’re up for it.”

Y/N’s lips part like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Her mind’s racing—caught somewhere between what the fuck is happening and why does that sound kind of… hot?

She finally lets out a breath that slips into a soft laugh. “Well that’s intense.”

Chris chuckles, looking off to the side like he's searching for someone to save him from his own suggestion. “I mean—yeah. But it doesn’t have to be crazy shit. Just… honest.”

Her eyes shoot down to his mouth, then back up. She bites her lip. “How would we even do that?"

Chris shrugs, more relaxed now. “Could just be me showing you what I like. Nothing more.. unless you want it.”

A long pause stretches between them.

Y/N softly speaks up, “Would it be weird if I said I wanted to try?”

Chris raises his brows, a slow smile easing onto his lips. “Not even a little.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Chris doesn’t give Y/N a second to catch her breath before pressing her back against the now-shut bedroom door, his mouth crashing into hers like he’s been waiting weeks for it—and that's because he has. The kiss is messy and familiar, fueled by pent-up tension.

She gasps against his mouth, letting out a breathless laugh against his lips. “Gotta get hard first, huh?” Y/N teases between kisses, her tone breathy but teasing.

Chris lets out a low chuckle against her lips, grinning against her. “Won’t be too difficult with you lookin’ like that.”

His hands slide down to her hips, fingers kneading into the skin like close isn't close enough for him.

Chris gently pulls her away from the door, his lips still devouring hers with a hunger stronger than the first time they did this. He walks them backward, guiding her without breaking the kiss, until the back of his thighs bump into the edge of the mattress.

He breaks away just long enough to tug his hoodie over his head, the motion quick and clumsy, like he can’t stand to be separated from her for more than a second. The moment it hits the floor, his mouth meets hers again, hands finding their way to her waist like he’s trying to memorize the shape of her.

Y/N’s hands slide up to his shoulders, fingertips brushing the edge of his tank top before rushing to bury themselves in his hair.

Chris finally pulls back, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, his skin radiating a comforting warmth. “I think you got me worked up enough,” he mutters, that familiar cocky attitude returning as a smirk spreads across his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Y/N lets out a soft, flustered laugh, biting her lip as she glances to the side, her reaction half amusement, half embarrassment. Her cheeks are already warm, but now the blush quickly spreads to her ears.

Without breaking eye contact, Chris settles onto the bed, one arm propped behind his head like he’s just chilling. He pats the space beside him, his gesture casual—even there’s nothing casual about this situation.

Y/N hesitates for only a second before moving, swallowing her nerves as she sits beside him. Not too close, not too far. Her heart thumps as she adjusts her position, trying to figure out the right amount of space; close enough to seem confident, far enough to not seem desperate.

She ends up somewhere in the middle. And it still feels completely wrong.

“Don’t be nervous,” Chris says, his voice low as he bumps his knee against hers. “You’re just watchin’ me jerk off, that’s all. Totally casual.”

He squints playfully at her, grin growing with every second he sees her try not to laugh.

Y/N shakes her head and covers her mouth, amusement tugging at her lips despite herself. “You’re insane,” she mutters, her voice light and teasing through a quiet chuckle.

Chris’s grin lingers as he leans back on the bed. “You sure you’re good?” he asks, eyes scanning over her to search for any hint of discomfort.

Y/N nods, her smile dimming into a softer nervous yet curious one. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Chris hums low in his throat, looking away for a second like he’s letting the moment breathe, giving her time to collect herself. Then, slowly—almost lazily—he shifts his hips and runs his palm down the front of his sweats, not directly touching anything yet, just letting the implication sit.

“I’m not gonna, like, make it weird,” he mutters with a smirk, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. “Unless you want it to be.”

Y/N’s eyes drift downward, sucking in an audibly shaky breath. She shifts slightly, straightening her posture like she's trying to hide that he's totally caught her off guard.

Chris huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, clearly amused. His eyes stay on her, lips pulling into something close to a smirk as he bites down gently on his bottom lip. “You’re lookin’ real focused,” he whispers, practically eye fucking her as he subtly palms himself.

She doesn’t answer, just lifts her gaze to meet his. Chris takes her curious stare as a green light. He runs a hand through his hair—a nervous habit she grown to know all too well by now.

A quiet chuckle escapes him, almost uncertain. His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes drift from hers. He doesn’t look at her when he slips his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, which sit just above the edge of his sweats. He’s still concealed, his movements slow, measured.

The reality of the situation finally hits Y/N. She bites her lip, almost instinctively. She’s seen Chris shirtless countless times—at the beach, at the pool, towel slung low on his hips fresh out of the shower. Fuck, he’s even mooned her a couple of times just to make her laugh.

But this?

This is more than that. This is different.

Finally, Y/N speaks, her voice quiet. “Do you… like when someone watches you?”

Chris’s jaw tightens at the question, his heavy eyes widening for a moment. The intensity fades quickly, replaced by his usual calm control. He exhales slowly, voice now husky. “Yeah.”

She swallows hard, shifting again where she sat, thighs pressing tighter together as heat pooled low in her stomach. It was ridiculous how hot this was—sexy even. He wasn’t even exposed, and she could barely contain herself.

She notices the subtle shift in his breathing, the way his posture changes when he touches himself. His jaw tightens, brows pinching in quiet concentration. But he keeps himself out of sight, hand moving slow beneath the fabric, keeping the reveal just out of reach. Like he was letting her adjust.

Chris glances over at her again, lips parted, breath a little heavier now, as if he’s no longer trying to hide how good it feels. His eyes find hers for just a second before he moves to rest his free hand gently on her thigh.

His thumb begins to move, slow circles against her skin. His touch serves as a quiet invitation. A silent you can join if you want.

Her breath hitched and he must’ve heard it, because the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

Y/N looks at him with a flustered look in her eyes. Her chest rises with a slow, shaky breath, needing to speak but struggling to find the words.

“Can I?..”

The question comes out quick. Vague. Nervous. But her eyes don’t leave his, silently asking him to understand what she meant without making her say it.

Chris huffs out a quiet laugh. His smile grows cocky as his hand still lazily works beneath his boxers.

“Can you what?” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to make her shudder. “Hm?”

He knows what she’s asking. Of course he does, he's not dumb. But he’s not going to let her off that easy. He wants her to say it.

“Chris—” she huffs, a teasing warning in her tone. “You know what I want.”

Her voice has that spark again, the one he didn’t realize he’d missed until now. It makes his smug grin soften into something more genuine.

He leans back slightly, eyes scanning her face with something warmer behind them.

“There she is,” he mutters with a low chuckle, clearly pleased. “Took you long enough.”

He still wants to fluster her—can’t help it. But fuck, he missed this version of her. The one who gave him shit right back.

“You—wanna take over?” Chris asks, breath catching mid-sentence as his cock twitches in his hand.

Y/N nods.

He pulls his hand away, glancing at her for confirmation. Then, with a swift motion, he pushes his boxers and sweats down just enough to let himself spring free.

Her breath caught at the sight of him. Him, her best friend, in front of her like this.

He didn’t look at her right away, just kept quiet. He was giving her space. Letting her look, take it in, feel whatever she needed to feel without commentary.

“How—how do you… um… like it?” Y/N asks, her voice shaky, nervousness clear in her tone. She's not feeling scared or pressured, just nervous. Because she wants him to feel good. Because she doesn't want to fuck this up.

She wraps her hand around the base of his dick, and Chris exhales softly, a noise that just kind of slipped out.

“Just… uh—tight and slow? I—I don’t know…” He stumbles over his words like he’s forgotten how to speak. He collects himself before continuing, “It’ll feel good no matter what. Don’t worry.”

He drags his eyes up to meet hers, his gaze soft and warm, fond almost.

She offers a small, shy smile in return, flattered by the reassurance—and already knowing the answer to her unspoken question.

“And why’s that?”

Chris’s smirk widens, playful but sweet.

“’Cause it’s you, ma.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that eases onto her lips as she begins to stroke him, just the way he said he liked—slow and tight. Her body leans in, drifting closer without even realizing it, her focus locked entirely on his face.

Sure, she could be staring at his pretty cock in her hand right now; But his face? His reactions? That's all she really cares about.

His lips are parted, breath shallow, swallowing every sound that might slip out too easily. She watches the tension in his jaw, the way his lashes flutter, how his brows knit together in that desperate way she’s never seen from him before. He looks so fucking needy, so fucking pathetic. And god is it sexy.

“You okay, Chris?” Y/N teases, her voice laced with a sultry kind of innocence that didn’t exist a few minutes ago. The shift in her confidence is subtle, but unmistakable, and it has him fucking reeling.

Her wrist twists with every stroke, a slight squeeze at the head making his hips twitch. Chris lets out a breathy chuckle, the sound almost strained. “Don’t start with me,” he warns, his tone daring, though his grin betrays him.

His eyes squint open, catching the soft, sly smile on her lips, the one that says she knows exactly what she’s doing. She's playing coy. Everything about her in this moment feels deliberate, like she’s playing a character, and he’s completely fucked for it.

“Where’d all this confidence come from?” Chris manages, his voice rough and strained, eyelids squeezed shut like he’s fighting the need.

Y/N grins and tilts her head, her strokes never faltering. “Beats me,” she says airily, leaning in just a bit closer. “Why, you complainin’?”

His lips part, a shaky breath escaping as his head tips back slightly. “Not even a little,” he mumbles, voice nearly a groan.

Y/N bites her lip, her gaze sweeping slowly over his face, taking in every detail; the furrow of his brow, the way his lips part as he holds his breath to keep in any and all noises. After a beat of silence, she reaches up with her free hand and gently guides his chin toward her.

Chris opens his eyes at the contact, pupils blown, lips parted. That look—dazed and desperate—makes her body grow unbearably hot. Her thighs press tighter together instinctively, just as his own leg twitches beside her.

He lets out a low, unrestrained groan, his first real sound. She leans in and catches his mouth with hers, kissing him with a slow, deliberate intensity that makes it clear: this time, she’s the one leading.

“Fuck—I need you.” The words spill from Chris’s lips like a confession, hot and breathless against her plump lips. His hand cradles her jaw, tugging her even closer, like he can’t stand the inch of space between them.

Her neck burns, warmth blooming all the way down to her core where it flutters. He needs her. Not just anyone—her. Her best friend wants her. He craves her.

“Then have me.” The words fall out between kisses, soft but sure.

Chris freezes, lips hovering just above hers. His chest rises and falls like he’s been sucker-punched. A breathy, helpless moan escapes him before he can stop it—half shock, half pleasure, and all her fault. She’s still stroking him, slow and steady, like it’s nothing. Like she didn’t just blow his fucking mind.

“Wait—are you serious?” His voice is hoarse, wrecked with disbelief. Her. The same girl who said she was afraid. The one he swore he’d never push.

Y/N only nods, her thumb unthinkingly ghosting over the head of his cock. His whole body twitches.

“Shit—Y/N—fuck—” He groans, head tipping back as he sucks in a shaky breath.

Y/N bites back a laugh at his reaction, slowing her pace out of mercy, then whispering a playful, “Sorry,” knowing she's not actually sorry at all.

Chris opens his eyes, searching hers as he tries to read between every word she isn’t saying.

“You’re not just—saying that, right?” he asks, quieter now. “Tell me what you mean. What do you want me to do?”

Y/N sighs softly, like she’s still trying to gather her thoughts. “Chris—”

“YO!” A voice cuts through the air, loud and unbothered. There’s a brief pause, followed by a muffled, “Where the fuck are those two?"

"We got McDonald’s!! Nick was being picky!!”

Matt.

Chris groans, head lolling back against the wall as he lets out a series of dramatic, whiny noises. “OKAY! Just finishing up a game!” he yells back, his voice cracking slightly with frustration.

Y/N’s hand slips away from him, resting in her lap as she laughs under her breath, clearly amused by his misery despite the embarrassment heating up her cheeks.

“I didn’t even get to cum,” Chris grumbles like a kid who just had his toy taken away, tossing his hands up in full defeat.

“Put your dick away and let’s go eat, i'm starving.” Y/N says, voice light as she trails her fingertips teasingly along his still-hard length.

Chris gasps, a breathy chuckle slipping out. “Oh—fuck you,” he mutters, shaking his head before tugging his pants back up over his needy cock.

A sly grin plays on Y/N’s lips. “You will,” she calls over her shoulder, turning on her heel and striding out of the room as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Chris pauses for a beat, then pulls his hoodie back on, taking a deep, steadying breath as he adjusts himself one last time. He follows her out, giddily grinning, flushed, and completely undone.

a/n: heyyy, crazy how many people wanted this second part😭 ts actually gave me sm trouble like i hated it for a while and still kinda hate it, so i really hope you guys feel different😓 if you wanna be added to my tag list for this series or any in the future for that matter, simply just comment on the post!! (i hope i did the tagging shit right i'm so new to posting on this app) thank you so much, hope you enjoyed!!

dividers: all me!! feel free to use, they're just lines and emoticons after all, nothin fancy😭

taglist!!: @sophand4n4 @annsx03 @sinarainbows @jjmaybankswifes-blog @hannahsturniolo

©.urvampygf

[sturnvdds]

I'm sobbing bc i relate to her sm and I csnt do this rose it's too late for this 😖

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), heavy angst.

A/N: This song was a huge inspo for me when planning this series. Although I love the true meaning relating to lovers, I think the lyrics can hold weight in other contexts too

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P26: Remember it...

“Chris?” 

God, I feel dizzy. My body is heavy with sleep, my eyes drooping as I slowly wander towards the kitchen, following the echo of a loud clunk of something falling. 

He probably dropped my water bottle. I hope it’s not dented, but I really hope he didn’t accidentally drop it on his fucking toe—that shit hurts. I’ve had a purple toe to prove just how much that stupid metal water bottle hurts being dropped on a foot. 

My brows furrow as I hear a slight shuffle of noise—too much noise for just one pair of footsteps. I walk a little faster, my heart hammering in my chest as I round the corner from the hallway into the kitchen.

It’s just…Chris? 

Damn. Am I really that delusional right now? 

Attempting to rub the sleep from my eyes, I yawn while hearing his footsteps come closer. The feeling of his arms swarming around me makes my body relax into his hold, the touch of the cold metal water bottle against my arm making me curl away from the object. 

As I go to pull away to escape the ice metal sensation, I feel Chris tug me under one of his arms, flipping me around so I’m nuzzled under his hold as he starts to walk back towards my room, guiding us as I follow his movements. 

“Sorry—just…just dropped your water.” he says, his voice rushed, like an anxious worry of adrenaline from making such a commotion in the middle of the night. “-let’s go back to sleep, c’mon.”

Ugh, sleep. That’s what I need—that’s what my body is desperate for right now. I can tell my balance gets sloppy. My weight leans against him as I hear him hiss out like he’s in pain. 

What the hell?

Before I can even stand up straight enough to get a good glance at him, Chris pulls me back into the bed, immediately holding me against his chest as we both lay on our sides. 

“Are—are you okay?” I mumble, my words sluggish and slow as he starts to soothe his fingers over the top of my back, lulling me back to sleep quickly. 

“Yeah, I–yeah, just…just dropped your water on my foot, but it didn’t do any real damage, just stings a bit. Just….go back to sleep, baby,” he says, holding me tighter. 

Sleep consumes my senses faster than usual. His soothing voice and delicate touch makes it impossible for my mind to rush to any thoughts except for how content everything feels. He clutches me closely, a bit tighter than he’d been holding me previously—and I swear I feel him shiver, some sort of vibration that makes me nuzzle even further into him subconsciously. 

This is so peaceful. It’s impossible to feel anything but pure calmness as I let myself sink into exhaustion. 

___

The morning breeze seeping through the window is peaceful, but cold—brutally cold. My eyes shoot open as I reach out, feeling nothing but empty sheets next to me.

“Chris?” I ask, my voice still scratchy from sleep. 

Oh.

He’s gone.

Reaching over, I grab my phone off my nightstand, trying to swallow the lump in my throat as my chest grows heavy. The screen reflects black for a second, my sullen expression making me more aware of reality as I tap the device, seeing the digital pixels light up as I read a text. 

From Chris: Hey, don’t freak out, I just headed home a bit early. I’ll explain later, I’m sorry. 

Why’s he sorry?

Oh god. 

No. 

We said I love you last night, did he not actually mean it? 

My chest heaves up and down as I try to suck in deep breaths, my eyes watering as I feel shallow sighs leave my quivering lip. He seemed so genuine with his words. How could that sort of emotion be just from the heat of the moment? 

That can’t be it, I refuse to even let my brain try to convince me. 

I saw his eyes—I heard his words. He meant it. I know in my soul that he meant it. 

Words don’t just feel like that. Confessions that are that deep and vulnerable can’t be faked. 

So what went wrong? 

Before I can think any further, I hear a knock on the door, my eyes widening before I relax, remembering Chris isn’t here and there’s no reason to freak out about getting caught. Although, I kinda wish he was. I want him here, even if it means getting in trouble. 

The door creaks open as Baylen peeks his head in. My eyes furrow as he gazes across my room, almost as if he’s searching for something. 

“Hey, uh–” he continues looking, scratching the back of his neck as he fully steps into my room, “-how’d you sleep?” he asks, his eyes darting to my bathroom and my open closet with curiosity. 

He knows—he has to know. There hasn’t been a single day in the past couple years where he’s ever waltzed into my room, asking how I slept. Especially not with such wandering eyes. 

“Baylen?” I ask, my body freezing as he looks towards me with an unreadable expression.

I can feel it. Deep in my gut, the look in his eyes makes everything pulse with adrenaline in my body, like an automatic response that makes everything seem like I’m looking through a camera lens to see. 

“I…” his eyes drop as he looks at my bed, analyzing the messed up sheets and comforter, “-where is he?”

My eyes widen with horror, my throat feeling incredibly dry as my lips smack open and shut. “I—what? What do–”

“No, where…where is he?” he interrupts. 

Baylen rubs a hand over his face, his face scrunching with distaste that has a hint of sadness lingering in the creases of his eyes. My heart pummels in my chest. I swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes feeling dry as the morning breeze stings against my waterline. 

“He left, I—I’m sorry, I won’t sneak him around again, just—please don’t tell mom, I—”

My words halt as I watch him stalk closer to me. He sits on the edge of my bed, his arms resting on his knees with his face buried in his hands. I freeze, noticing the subtle shake of his body, a loud sniff echoing through the room as the wind grows silent. 

“I–I’m—’m sorry,” he cries, a sob racking through his body as his entire body racks with a devastating vibration. 

My face tingles, every slight sensation echoing as I feel the air grow stiff. I sit up. My hand reaches out to his shoulder, lightly laying on him as I frown. 

“-’m so fuckin’ sorry, you—I—fuck,” his voice cracks, his sniffs growing louder as I hear him choke on a breath.

Pure instinct rushes over me. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around him as he shakes with loud cries. Baylen grows stiff. His body freezes under my embrace before he turns, pulling his arms around my waist as he places his chin on my shoulder.

Something is horribly wrong. The way he’s clutching onto me tells my body to activate every anxious sensation possible. 

“What’s going on? Is this about…what’s…just—talk to me,” I plea, my lip wobbling as another sob from him echoes through the room. 

He pulls me impossibly tighter, his tears hot and wet as they seep onto the fabric covering my shoulder. “He…he was filling up your water bottle, I…things just kept—he said you deserved better than me and—-and he’s right.” 

My face scrunches as I listen to his broken words. Chris and him had some sort of run-in last night, one that had somehow led to my brother who barely even acknowledges me to sob onto my shoulder. 

“Baylen….you’re still my brother, it’s okay, I know our dynamic hasn’t always been the best, but—” 

A sharp cry purses through his lips. I wince as he hugs me a bit too tight, the whimper sounding from his mouth making something in my chest sting. 

“He’s right. I…you don’t understand, I haven’t—you—he’s not what you think,” he says, his voice strained and getting quieter. 

“Chris?” I ask, met with an even louder sob.

“Dad.” 

My bones go rigid as I feel my heartbeat stop for a second. Baylen shakily lets go of me, his teary, red eyes staring into mine with a pout tugging on his face. 

“He’s…he wasn’t a good person—especially not to you.” 

“What?” I ask, the word coming out as more of a breath than an actual question. “Baylen, what’s going on? What…what happened last night? What’re you saying?”

His eyes. They say volumes before he even starts to speak. 

Each of his words echo with a piercing pain, a sharp sensation clawing at my chest as I feel my heart shatter. 

___

Silence drums through my room. Not a single ounce of sound, not even a noise from moving in my sheets—I hadn’t moved. 

If I moved, this might be real, and this can’t be real—it can’t be true.

A knock breaks through the silence. My eyes stay trained on my wall as I see movement and hear the sound of my door creaking open. 

“Hey, I—” 

Chris. 

His voice is impossibly soft. I hear the door close shut, his footsteps trailing until he’s directly in my view. 

“Hey.” he repeats, this time more delicately. 

Chris sinks onto his knees, kneeling on the floor as I lay on my side. I stare as his hand reaches out, caressing my hair behind my ear. The heat grows in my face. 

This is too real. 

“Baylen let you in?” I ask numbly. He nods, his thumb caressing over the rim of my ear as I find the lump of emotions building in my chest. 

“How are you—”

“No. I…don’t. Please, just–”

The question makes my chest burn, the response rushing off my tongue as I feel my face scrunch with displeasure. The wall in front of me is blocked by his body, my eyes drifting to above his shoulder where my dresser is—the dresser with a picture of the man that made my heart feel like it was being wrung out like a towel. 

“I don’t want it to be true. I—I don’t wanna think that he…I…Baylen—he’s not lying, he wouldn’t lie about this, but—I’m gonna be sick,” I mumble, squinting my eyes shut as hot tears begin to leak. The sight of that dumb picture is burning in my mind, the fear of opening my eyes to see his face making my stomach twist with nausea.

The comfort of Chris’ touch disappears. I hear him walk around my room, my eyes peeking open to see him setting the framed picture of my dad face down on my dresser. 

A sob rumbles through my chest. Chris rushes over, scooping me into his arms as he cradles me like a baby into his chest. 

“Hey, hey…I got you, just—just let it all out, okay? I’m here,” he whispers.  

My vision is blurred as I try to open my eyes. Every muscle in my body aches as I look over to my dresser, the once prized picture hidden, the frame barely visible. 

My dad’s been dead for a long time. He’s been a memory for years—but that’s dead too now. 

All the memories, all the things I thought I knew—they’re all gone. 

Everything about him is truly dead.

[sturnvdds]

Rose im crying why did u do this to me

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), angst, fluff, fighting, physical altercation, lying, and more.

A/N: This is long as fuck and have fun on this emotional rollercoaster lol this is barely proofread btw

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P25: Too Soon?

A week. My mom would be gone on some work trip for an entire seven days.

I really don’t believe it. Part of me always thought she would lie about them being ‘work trips,’ but now I was sure. What kind of work trip didn’t have cell service?

She’s lying. I know she’s hiding something, I know deep down this probably isn’t the first time she’s done this before. But that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is that she that she left Byalen in charge to ‘watch’ me—like a fucking babysitter, since I couldn’t be trusted anymore because of the time she caught me coming home with Chris early in the morning.

Fucking hypocrite. 

Sure, I wasn’t telling the truth—but neither was she. Like mother, like daughter, I guess. 

Currently, I’m on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as my phone rests on my stomach. Chris’ voice echoes through the device. We’ve been talking for hours. I really want to just go over and see him—see my boyfriend, but I can’t. Not while I’m being fucking babysat. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna sleep over? You need to sleep.” Chris says.

God, the offer is tempting. All of me wants to say yes, walk over to his house, and cuddle up in his arms. But I can’t. I’ve slept like shit for the past three days and it keeps getting worse. I need him to hold me in order to feel okay, I wanna sleep in a house that feels like a home too. 

It’s not even just him. It’s Jimmy, it’s Matt, and hell—even Trevor. I love being around them, it makes everything feel so much easier. 

I huff, shaking my head against my pillow as I roll my eyes. “I can’t, I’m being fuckin babysat at 18 years old.” I remark. 

A wave of silence washes over for a minute. I can practically hear Chris thinking, the slight vibration of a curious hum sounding through the phone. My fingers callus over my lip, the slight graze of my nails making the muscle tingle in a way that mimics how Chris’ lips feel against my own.

Fuck. I miss that. 

It’s like he has something that I need and crave all the damn time, like he possesses some sort of energy that makes my body feel better—lighter, even. 

“Well…what if I came over there?” He offers. 

My eyebrows twist together. I lick over my lip, gnawing on the muscle as I think of his statement. 

“But…but what if we get caught?” I question. 

I could imagine it. Baylen would see Chris and all hell would break loose. 

I doubt he’d cover for me, he’d probably enthusiastically go telling my mom the second she walks back into the house. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh. “Has he really ever bothered to check in your room? I mean, even if he does, I’ll just hide in your closet or something.”

“That’s kinda gay, bro,” I joke, gnawing on my lip as I hear Chris let out a fit of chuckles that make my heart echo in my ears. 

I love being able to do that. Hearing him laugh—making him laugh, it all feels so pure. It honestly feels as intimate as him in between my legs, just in a different type of way. 

Either are addicting. It was hard to miss only one or the other, I craved both. 

I wanted to feel the euphoric relief from his touch. I wanted to laugh with him to the point where I couldn’t think of anything except how bad my stomach cramped from giggling. 

I wanted everything and all of it—I just want him. 

It’s only been a bit over a week since we made things official, but god—I could feel emotions building so rapidly, so much that they felt like they were consuming every corner of my mind.

Some of it made me sick. 

I never felt this way with Ryan, my ex. The butterflies were there, but not to this extent—not to the point where I caught myself trying to imagine he was holding me in order to fall asleep. 

“Do you want me to come over and not?” Chris remarks, pulling me back to reality as his voice echoes through my phone. 

I bite back a sore smile, humming in approval, “Yes please.” 

___

It feels good like this. Every inch of my body is content, my limbs melted in his hold as I let myself breathe in the fresh air from the cracked window in my bedroom.

His hand is combing through my hair. I hear him clear his throat, his chest rumbling as he begins to speak, “So, um…I…I’ve really missed you.” he says—again.

My lips tug into an unrelenting smile. We’ve been cuddling for hours and he’s repeated the same statement at least ten times. 

It should be annoying, but it’s not. It makes me feel warm—it makes me feel a part of the moment, like every wave of the breeze is infiltrating the pores on my skin to ground me with a profound amount of peace. 

“I missed you too.” I reply, scratching my nails over his chest as I let out another hum of contentment. His lips press against the crown of my head, a lingering kiss placed on my scalp as I feel his warm breath tickle into my hair. 

It’s dark now. We should be tired, but we’re not. A short nap had rendered us a bit sad since we wanted to watch the sunset together, but it was okay since now we got to watch the night sky illuminate with a crescent moon and thousands of stars varying in vibrance. 

I wonder who’s watching. Maybe my dad is one of those stars, maybe he gets to see me finally living after all these years without him. 

The gap of his presence still aches in my heart, but it’s not as exhausting. A tiny splinter of a gap still remains in the pumping muscle, but it seems to be soothed by the added layers of security from Chris’ arms around me. 

“What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Chris asks, combing through my hair. 

I crane my head to stare up at him, sparing a soft smile as I give a slight shrug of my shoulders. “I just…” my words float into the air, unfinished as I gulp the lump in my throat that seems to build with how his eyes are piercing into me. “-I really like this. I…really like you…being here with me. It’s just–” 

Chris leans down, pressing the tip of his nose against my own as he blinks, his eyes lashes fluttering against my own with a ticklish sensation that makes a soft sigh fall from my lips. 

“-good. I’m glad you like it because I love it. You don’t understand how much I missed holding you, really,” he whispers, his breath fanning across my lips in a way that makes my stomach swarm with warm butterflies. “-this makes me so, so, so fuckin’ happy—holding my girl, in my arms—”

“You’re never gonna stop saying that, huh?” I tease, biting on my lip as his eyes open and gleam into my own.              

Chris purses his lips, shrugging. “Nah. Getting to call you my girl?” he puffs, his eyes going with before he offers a playful smile, “-could never get old to me. Makes me feel all….” he wraps his arms tighter around me, pulling a gasp from my mouth as he pulls my chest plush against his, “-warm.” 

Ugh. He feels the same way I do—maybe even more so. 

I let myself bathe in his stare, the reassurance of his gaze making me feel like moonlight—calm, radiate, and important. Part of me doesn’t wanna speak at all, the fear of this exact moment ending making my heart pulse in my chest with a sharp sting. 

But it’s okay. 

It’s okay because I know there will always be more moments like this with him. It’s okay because there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll ever let me feel anything less than cared for. 

Words linger on the tip of my tongue, words I know I shouldn’t say—not yet, at least.

But it’s true. I love him, I really, really do. I don’t know when the realization happened. Honestly, I think it might’ve been when we first met, like some sort of cautious feeling that was warning me of destiny. 

Chris licks over his lips, his smile fading into a serious look as he swallows thickly. “I…I know we haven’t been official for very long, but—I…I feel things for you, I feel so much it hurts,” he breaths. 

My breath halts in my chest, my ears ringing as my bones seem to vibrate inside my body. He feels it too. It’s like everything about us is connected, like everything is falling into place so effortlessly it feels like magic. 

“I…” The words fall flat on the tip of my tongue, my eyes glazing over with pure emotion as I let my eyes wander over his face.

It’s so comfortable. All I can hear is our hearts beating in sync, the way my entire soul is burning for me to say it—say everything. 

“I love you.”

My eyes widened in shock. The words had rambled off my tongue so rushed, the devotion hanging in the air with an accompanied echo of his own voice. 

“Oh.” 

Our words are still in sync. We both let out a small laugh, the giggles falling quiet as we just breath in each other’s presence. 

“I guess that wasn’t as scary as I was making it out to seem, huh?” he tuts. 

I shake my head, laughing under my breath as I shrug, “-I guess so.” 

___

Chris’ POV

I keep waking up. I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s like my body doesn’t want to sleep, even though I’m very comfortable, I just wanna look at her in my arms. 

The slight sound of crickets echoing with the cool night air makes me sigh. My eyes drift over to her nightstand, her empty water bottle catching my attention. She had jugged all of it and fell back asleep within an instant a while ago, waking up a bit later, disappointed to find the bottle empty. 

Maybe I should fill it for her.

Yeah.

Slowly sliding away, I wince hearing her let out a small whimper, reaching out for me as I stand up fully. Her eyes peek open. I pet over her shoulder, cooing, “-hey, go back to sleep—’m just gonna fill your water, okay?” 

She nods hazily, her eyes falling shut with a slight scowl printed on her face. 

God, she’s pretty.

My stomach flutters with warmth as I watch her bottom lip pout slightly, her arms reaching out and tugging the pillow that was beneath my head into her hold as she greedily takes a large breath.

Fuck.

She’s barely awake and she still wants me. 

With light steps, I carefully make my way out of her room, venturing through the halls in hopes of finding the kitchen. It doesn’t take long. I walk into the tiled room, the cold flooring against my feet making me miss the warmth of her touch. 

“Ugh,” I sigh, walking over to the sink and filling the bottle, trying to tilt the object to create as little noise as possible. 

My lips roll together, my mind racing with thoughts as I reminisce on earlier. I was so scared to tell her that I loved her, I was scared it was too soon, too much, or purely insane to feel so strongly when we only made things official a bit ago. 

But she said it at the same time, and somehow that was better than her saying it back. 

“Who the fuck?” 

My eyes go wide as I screw on the cap to the water bottle. I turn around, finding her brother with messy hair and sunken eyes staring at me with a scowl. 

Fuck. 

“Shit.” I mutter, squinting my eyes shut in hopes I’m just having a nightmare. 

But no. 

I open my eyes, he’s still there—closer. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he interrogates, his shoulders broadening as his nostrils flare with an angry huff. 

“I, uh,” I look towards the hallway, mentally cursing myself as I think of her getting in trouble because of me, “-I’m Chris. I’m…uh—”

I don’t get the chance to finish. Baylen’s eyes shift to the bottle in my hand, his tongue prodding on the side of his cheek as he shakes his head disappointedly. 

“What? Are you her boyfriend or something?” he asks, lips tugged into a straight line. 

Gulping, I nod. Surely me being her boyfriend is better than being a stranger breaking in, right?

“No.”

The fuck?

My brows furrow together at his statement. Baylen seems to analyze the confusion on my face, shrugging as he repeats the words with a more tense voice, “-I said no.” 

“What? No? Hate to break it to you, but that’s not really your decision.” I point. 

No wonder she can’t get along with him, he’s a prick. He barely acts like a brother, yet he’s trying to dictate our relationship? 

Fuck that. I’ve done more for her than he has with a fraction of the time. 

I mean, how hard is it to be there for his sister? 

After losing my mom and Nick, no matter how distant or hurt I was, I still hugged Matt when he needed it. I might’ve grown distant, but I never grew heartless.

Baylen couldn’t even suck it up to play video games with her. 

His face contorts with distaste. I let out an angry sigh, my eyes rolling while he let out a scoff. 

“She’s my sister. I’m the one who gets to look out for her, not some guy she’s known for what, a couple months?” he remarks, a slight snort echoing at the end of his sentence. 

His words seem to make my heart pummel against my chest with rage, the statement making my blood boil as I lick over my teeth. “Look out for her? You can’t even sit down and play a video game with her for more than five minutes. Just…” I shake my head, watching as his face shifts into shock before the fury in his eyes starts to become more intense, “-it’s whatever.” 

Baylen clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, shaking his head, “Shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

My nose twitches, my eyes squint as my jaw becomes tight. Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to? 

“Oh, I have no idea what I’m talking about?” I huff, my brows lifting as I let out a dry laugh, “-no, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re an awful fucking brother, you have no say in anything when you’re treating her like…like a fucking dick.” 

His jaw clicks. Baylen stalks forward, his hands twisting in the collar of my shirt as he yanks me to the side, pushing me against the wall as his eyes glare into me, the anger radiating off of him making the ache in my head from the impact seem less apparent as I drop the water bottle and clutch onto his wrists, trying to yank him off of me. The loud clunk of the bottle hitting the ground makes me wince. I huff at his unrelenting grip, taking a heavy sigh as I try to calm the pulsing anger in my body. 

I can’t hit him. She cares about him—even if he hurts her, I know that would make her upset.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeats, his voice dangerously low as he pushes me harder against the wall.  

“You abandoned her when she needed you most. What kind of brother does that?” I spit, the emotions in my voice leaking with a bit of hypocrisy. 

I wasn’t always the best when it came to comforting Matt after my mom and Nick had died, but at least I came around. Someone had to knock some sense into me—that someone being my dad, but it didn’t seem like anyone was ever gonna set Baylen straight. 

“You—you don’t get it. Stop. Just—just shut up,” he yells, shoving me even harder as I feel the back of my head pulse. 

“I do. Just…ow, fuck—” I hiss, the pain becoming evidentally apparent as my skull aches, “-I lost some of my family. Someone had to knock some sense into me. She—she’s your sister, you both lost your dad, she’s hurting and—shit.” 

It fucking hurts. The back of my head is pulsing, an echoing pain bursting through my forehead as I try to move, only to have him shove me harder. 

“I didn’t lose anyone. You…you don’t understand.” 

My eyes peak open, curiosity accompanied by pain as I hear a slight crack in his voice. His face drops with sadness, the anger fleeting into some sort of sullen emotion as he swallows thickly. 

“You…you don’t understand. That man—he’s not my father. He’s a sick excuse of a man that traumatized her and she doesn’t even fucking remember,” he spits. 

“I…what?” I breathe, my chest tightening as Baylen loosens his grip around the collar of my shirt, his lower lip wobbling. 

“I’m never supposed to tell her. I…I have to hear her mourn a man who would…who’s the reason she’d have to sneak into my room—he’s the reason she could never make it through the night without having an accident. Something was wrong—everything was wrong.” 

“What—what’re you saying?” I ask, my mouth falling open as I let my hands fall from his wrists. 

Baylen’s eyes sink with sadness, his cheek hollowing as he gulps. “She wasn’t potty trained for a long time. At first, I didn’t get it. But…but…he was touching her, her body was showing all the signs of sexual assault, but I was just a kid, I didn’t…I—by the time I understood what had happened, it—it was too late. Now I have to hear her mourn a man who is the reason I feel—he’s…he’s the reason I can’t comfort her, he’s the reason I can’t look at her,” he says, his head tilting as his face scrunches with pain;

“He’s the reason I hate myself—the reason I can’t let myself get close to her without seeing how much of a failure I am.” 

Oh.

[sturnvdds]

I could cry

ꔛ 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 . . .

Chris was getting anxious. He was having fun on stream, but he could see you getting ready for bed.

“Hey, baby?” he asks, turning to face you as you rummage around the room. Your eyes meet his, your eyebrow cocking as you spare him a curious look. Chris’s cheeks flush as he covers the camera, whispering to you, “-can you give me a kiss before you go to bed? Please?”

Your lips curl upward, your stomach flurrying with light feathers swarming up into your chest.

Walking over, you laugh at his poor attempt to cover the camera. His lips meet yours briefly, but softly. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he hums.

You nod, not wanting to be heard by the stream. Chris rummages his hands, pulling his stuffed monkey from his lap and placing it into your grasp. “Cuddle him for me until I’m done?” he suggests.

Once again, you nod your head, walking over to the bed as you clutched the soft stuffed toy in your arms.

You don’t even remember falling asleep. But, you feel Chris spoon you from behind, clutching you into his chest as he snuggles you into his warmth, the stuffed monkey being cradled even tighter against you. It still feels like you’re in some sort of dream, some sort of haze that makes everything feel so beautifully soft. “I love you,” he breathes, kissing the crown of your head.

This is love.

[sturnvdds]

Need this

Inexperienced reader and inexperienced Matt have sex for the first time

make it last

𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

contains ➛ ★ unprotected sex ★ first times ★ pet names ★ praising ★ orgasm denial (kind of) ★ creampie ★

you don’t really know how it starts. maybe with his mouth, maybe with the way he looks at you like there’s no one else on earth. it’s slow, whatever it is. his hands are gentle, like he’s scared to break something, like you’re made of glass and he’s still learning how to hold things right.

his mouth is on yours, warm and a little shaky. he kisses you like he’s scared he’s going to mess this up but refuses to stop anyway. like he needs it too much. you’re not sure what you’re doing either, but with him, it doesn’t feel like you need to. it just happens. soft mouths, shy touches, his hands sliding under your shirt like it’s sacred. like you are.

“is this okay?” he asks, over and over, and it’s not annoying. it’s sweet. it’s him. it makes your chest ache how much he wants this to be right, how badly he wants you to be okay. you nod, and whisper something close to yes, please, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years.

clothes go missing. slowly. hesitantly. like you’re both afraid you’ll get cold without them, but neither of you wants to stop. his hands tremble a little when he touches you, but not because he’s unsure—because he’s trying so hard to do everything right. he kisses every inch of you like he needs to memorize it. like he’ll be tested on it later and he wants an a. when he finally lines himself up, he pauses, forehead resting against yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“you tell me if anything hurts, sweetheart,” he breathes, voice low, tight, nearly breaking. “seriously. anything.”

you nod again. your fingers tighten on his arms. he’s being so careful, so slow, like the world might crack open if he moves too fast. it’s new, and a little strange, but not scary—not with him. not when he’s looking at you like that. not when he’s kissing your jaw and whispering, “you’re doing so good. you feel—fuck, you feel so good.”

he moves slowly at first. painfully slow. like he’s trying to stretch time, trying to savor it even as his hips tremble and he keeps letting out little, choked sounds in your ear. like it’s taking everything in him not to fall apart right there.

“‘m not gonna last,” he groans, forehead pressing into your neck, voice almost desperate. “shit—fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

“don’t,” you whisper, breathless. “please. not yet. m’ not close yet.”

his hand fists in the sheets next to your head. he’s biting his lip so hard it might split open. he kisses you to keep himself grounded, to hold back, and somehow it makes it worse for him. his whole body’s tight. desperate. but he holds on for you. he holds on even when his hips stutter, even when he has to stop moving for a second and just breathe. you’re getting closer now, can feel it building low and slow in your stomach. you kiss his jaw, whisper his name, maybe beg a little, and that’s what breaks him. his voice cracks as he moans, tries to hold still, but he’s shaking too hard now.

“i can’t—i—fuck-“ matt whimpers, breath trembling, arms shaking on each side of your head.

“it’s okay—you can cum.” you whisper. equally as shaky as him.

he spills into you with a gasp, body trembling, teeth gritted like he’s trying to fight it, even now. and then it’s your turn. not even a second later, you’re arching into him, breath caught in your throat as everything falls away. your hands grip his shoulders, fingernails pressing little half-moon marks into his skin. he’s still murmuring to you, even while trying to catch his breath.

“you were perfect,” he says, forehead still against yours, eyes closed. “you’re so perfect. fuck.”

you don’t say anything. just keep your arms around him, breathing him in. it was new. it was awkward. and it was easy. because it was him.

because it was you and him.

© 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

[sturnvdds]

This was the hottest thing I've ever read

── ⋮ ⌗ TOGETHER. . . ⟢ ARTIST.ᐟCHRIS ᵎᵎ

this is a part of a series, but can be read on its own! everyone thank @y3sterdaysproblem for proof reading :3. CONTENTS: smut heavy-plot, p n v , virginity talk??? + more . . .

star was laid flat across chris’  bed, his sheets twisted between her legs as she rambled on and on about interstellar. her voice bounced lazily off the walls, half-thoughts spilling out while she stared at the ceiling like she hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes picking the whole movie apart.

chris sat at the small desk in the corner, breaking up bud over the sketchbook he’d been working in earlier. he wasn’t really paying attention to the drawing anymore, just nodding along as she talked, fingers moving slow and practiced. lila was out for the night, sleeping over at a friend’s place, so the evening had been quiet—takeout, a movie, and now the joint he was almost finished rolling.

“no, but seriously,” star said, turning her head toward him, “the whole fifth dimension thing? like, if time isn’t linear, then how do we even know we’re not already dead and just watching it all in reverse?”

“jesus christ,” chris muttered, licking the edge of the paper. “i liked it better when you were talkin’ about the cornfield.”

he sealed it, smoothed it down, and finally stood up, stretching his arms above his head before walking over to the bed.

as soon as he sat down, star moved without thinking—climbing straight into his lap, legs folding around him like it was nothing. he settled against the headboard, leaning back as she got comfortable, her arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

“you’re warm,” she murmured, cheek pressing to his collarbone.

“you’re needy.”

“you like it.”

he lit the joint, took the first hit, then passed it to her. they fell quiet for a minute, the kind of quiet that only ever showed up when they were high together—slow, lazy, and soft around the edges.

he caught her staring a second later. just… looking at him.

“what,” he said, glancing over.

she shrugged, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “you’re pretty.”

his ears flushed instantly. he rolled his eyes, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “shut up.”

“m’serious,” she grinned, taking the joint back and inhaling slowly. “you have like, really stupidly pretty eyes. it’s upsetting.”

“thank you baby”,his hands found her thighs without thinking, fingers kneading softly at the bare skin there. her hand drifted to his jaw, thumb brushing over the faint stubble he hadn’t bothered shaving.

“you should grow this out,” she said.

he snorted. “ma said i look like a bum when i don’t shave.”

“well,” she shrugged, “guess i’m really attracted to bums then.”

he huffed out a laugh, rubbed his thumb along her inner thigh. “kinda feels like your legs three days after you shave.”

she gasped, smacked his chest. “ok asshole.”

“m’just sayin’,” he laughed.

she shook her head, climbing off his lap like she was done with him, but he caught her waist before she could get far and pulled her back down, flipping them easy. she landed against the mattress with a soft thud, his weight settling beside her, head dropping to her stomach.

her fingers went straight to his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like she always did. he sighed, melted into it, still holding the joint between his fingers.

the edge of her tank top had ridden up somewhere in the shuffle, exposing a sliver of her stomach, warm and soft beneath his cheek. he pressed a lazy kiss there without really thinking.

she laughed. “that feels weird.”

he didn’t respond. just took another slow drag.

“are you really fallin’ asleep?”

“playin’ with my hair like that,” he mumbled, “you’re askin’ for it.”

she tugged lightly at the strands between her fingers. “no, don’t go to sleep.”

“would be your fault.”

he shifted, adjusting to look up at her, one hand bracing on the bed—and accidentally flicked ash across her stomach.

“chris,” she said flatly.

he blinked, then looked down. “shit. my bad.”

she was already swiping at it, flicking the rest onto the floor. “you just branded me, i hope you’re happy.”

“kinda,” he grinned.

her fingers went back to moving through his hair, slow and easy, scratching lightly at his scalp in a rhythm that had him practically melting against her. but somewhere in the silence, somewhere between her nails dragging along the back of his neck and the way her breathing shifted beneath him, something in his chest tightened.

she tugged gently at a handful of his hair, half playing, half not, and he exhaled against her stomach, eyes fluttering shut for a second too long.

then he kissed her there again. soft, just a peck.

then another a little lower.

she didn’t say anything and didn’t stop touching him.

he pushed himself up just enough to lean over, reaching past her to the nightstand, stubbing the joint out in the ashtray before shifting back over her.

he kissed her once—slow, his lips pressing to hers like he had all the time in the world. she kissed him back just as slow, tongue brushing against his, her hand curling at the nape of his neck.

they pulled apart for a breath, and he didn’t go far. just pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, then her jaw, then lower.

her breath hitched when he found the spot just beneath her ear, his mouth opening slightly, tongue dragging over the skin before he sucked. not hard, just enough to pull a quiet sound from her throat.

“what are you doing,” she asked, barely above a whisper.

he mumbled something into her neck, but it was too low to catch.

his mouth kept moving—down the slope of her neck, across her collarbones. he stopped just above the swell of her chest, nosed at the hem of her tank like he was thinking about it, then sat back on his knees.

his hands slid under the fabric, resting gently at her waist. his thumbs rubbed soft circles into her skin as he stared down at her, eyes glassy and red-rimmed, lips kiss-swollen and parted.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he said, voice quiet and real. “you know that?”

star’s eyes flicked away for half a second, something shy pulling at her mouth. her cheeks flushed deeper, the ache between her legs sharp and growing. chris’ hands kept moving, slow up and down her sides, fingertips dragging along her skin like he couldn’t decide where to settle, like he wanted to memorize every inch.

“if i was any higher i’d could probably cry over it,” he mumbled.

she laughed, her hand resting against his stomach. “you’re stupid.”

he smirked, fingers drifting lower, toying lazily with the waistband of her sweats. her breath caught the second his pointer finger slipped underneath, brushing against the soft skin just beneath. it tickled a little, and she squirmed, smiling.

then she sat up, closing the distance between them, hands finding the back of his neck as she pulled him in for another kiss. it was even slower this time, a little more open, a little more sure. he kissed her back without hesitation, one hand finding the small of her back as the other braced them both.

he kissed her down onto the bed, their mouths still locked, and shifted his body until his hips pressed flush to hers. the weight of him settled between her legs, and the second she felt the shape of him— already getting hard, even through the layers between them—her whole body reacted.

her hips lifted slightly, trying to get closer, the friction sparking something desperate deep in her gut.

their kiss turned sloppy fast, tongues dragging, teeth brushing, soft whimpers falling from her mouth as he started to rock into her, slow and steady. her thighs squeezed around him, hips lifting to match his pace.

his hand found her hip, gripping firm, guiding her into him. their rhythm synced fast, practiced without ever having done this before.

“fuck,” he muttered against her mouth, eyes flicking down to where their hips were moving together. his forehead rested against hers as they looked down, breath hot between them.

it was practically dry humping at that point—both of their sweats pushed low, underwear clinging damp between them, his cock grinding against her clit in perfect rhythm. he groaned, jaw clenched, whole body tense.

“star,” he breathed, “if we don’t stop, i’m gonna come in my fuckin’ pants.”

she let out a breathy laugh, voice shaky. “should we stop?”

he nodded fast. “yeah… yeah, we should stop.”

but he didn’t.

his hips pressed harder into hers, grinding slow and deep, and the way his cock dragged right against her clit made her gasp.

“chris—” she whined, hips stuttering.

he kissed her jaw, her neck, her mouth again, fingers digging into her waist.

she tried to speak but it came out in broken gasps, her voice catching—“y-you’re…, you’re not stopping, chris.”

his groan was low, almost guttural. “i know, baby. m’sorry… jus’ feels so fuckin’ good.”

she moaned again, louder now, grinding up into him, her face flushed and eyes glassy.

he kissed her hard, barely holding himself together, completely lost in the way she moved against him. both of them soaked through, shaking from the pressure, and neither of them pulling away.

the air between them felt too hot, too tight, their bodies grinding together in that perfect rhythm, both breathless and completely gone. chris could feel how wet she was even through the layers—her cunt practically pulsing against him every time his cock dragged over her clit. it was slow but messy, and chris was fucking thriving off of it.

“fuck, baby,” he muttered, hips jerking into her harder, “you feel so good like this.”

she whined under him, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, her head tipping back against the pillow, exposing her neck. he kissed it without thinking, sucked just hard enough to hear the sound she made when he did.

he rocked into her again and she moaned, hips rolling up to meet him.

“chris,” she gasped, “please…”

he gritted his teeth, buried his face in her neck. “please what?”

she squirmed, hands gripping his arms now. “please fuck me.”

he groaned loud against her skin, like it physically knocked the air out of him. his hips bucked hard without warning, cock grinding right against where she needed him most.

he started to reach down, already fumbling to get his sweats low, heart pounding, mind foggy, body aching for it.

but then he froze and his breath caught, the weight of what she said crashed into him all at once.

they’d never done this. not all the way, and he was already halfway there like his body hadn’t even asked permission, even when he hadn’t stopped to ask her.

he lifted his head, eyes glassy, jaw tight. “wait—fuck, wait, are you sure? i don’t wanna do this if you feel like you have to—”

but before he could finish, her hand slipped between them.

she slid it right under the waistband of his sweats, fingers wrapping around his cock, he almost collapsed right there.

she looked up at him, dead serious, eyes wide and clear despite how wrecked she looked.

“i want this,” she said, voice steady. “i want you. please.”

he didn���t respond with words, his mouth crashed into hers, hot and fucking desperate, hand moving fast to shove his sweats and boxers down. hers followed, her hips lifting as he helped her out of hers, both of them half-shaking, fumbling, kissing through every second like they couldn’t afford to stop.

he reached blindly for the drawer beside the bed, still kissing her, half on top of her now as his hand rummaged through the mess inside—sketch pencils, a lighter, receipts, loose change—but no condoms.

“fuck me,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look, voice low and tight. “shit, shit, shit.”

star blinked up at him, still catching her breath. “what?”

he sat up, running a hand down his face. “i don’t have any.”

she furrowed her brows. “i saw some in there like… not even a few weeks ago?”

“yeah, i threw ‘em out.”

“you threw them out?”

“they were expired. and we never—” he waved a hand between them, “—we never got this far so i wasn’t exactly in a rush to buy more.”

star stared at him, quiet, lips parted.

he sighed, already leaning back like he was calling it. “it’s okay, we’ll just… sleep. i’ll grab some tomorrow and we can—”

“you’ve lost your fuckin’ mind if you think i’m going to sleep right now.”

his eyes snapped to hers.

“chris,” she said, voice serious, “i have never wanted to be fucked this badly in my life.”

his mouth opened. nothing came out.

“you could just go raw.”

his eyes widened, like full-body shock.

“what—” his voice cracked. “what?”

“as long as you pull out, we should be good, right?”

he stared at her. blinked. nodded slowly.

she tilted her head. “so what are you waiting for?”

he swallowed, hard. “uh—i’ve never gone raw before.”

she blinked at him. “huh?”

“not even once.”

“with all your hookups?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

he shook his head. “no.”

“why?”

he scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of where to look. “i don’t know. it’s just… personal. felt like too much.”

she stared at him, then let out a soft breath, sitting back against the pillows. the room went quiet for a second.

“…so this is kinda like your virginity too,” she said, a slow smile creeping up her face. “raw virginity.”

his head dropped. “you’re so stupid.”

“no but like. this is kinda beautiful.”

he looked at her, deadpan. “shut the fuck up.”

she laughed, loud and breathy, and he couldn’t help it—he laughed too, burying his face in her neck for a second.

when it faded, she looked at him again, more serious this time. “but i’m being serious. i’m ready. and i’m more than okay with it. as long as you are.”

he didn’t hesitate. “ ‘course i am.”

their lips met again, full of something warm and dizzying. he settled between her legs, his cock resting against her soaked cunt, and everything in him screamed to take it slow.

he lined himself up, his hands gripping her waist, her legs wrapping around him without him even asking. he kissed her again—one soft press to her lips, then another to her cheek, then her jaw.

he pushed in slow.

her breath hitched, fingers locking around his wrists. he went inch by inch, stopping when he felt her tense, brushing his thumb over her ribs, waiting for her to nod before going further.

once he was fully inside her, he stilled.

like completely still, afraid to hurt her in any way. 

his forehead dropped to hers, their breath mingling, her walls fluttering around him as she adjusted. he didn’t say a word—just stayed there, holding her hand, chest heaving.

“chris,” she whispered after a while, voice barely there, “you can move.”

he still didn’t, too caught up in trying not to come right then and there.

her hips rocked upward, slow and tentative, trying to get friction.

he groaned—loud—eyes squeezing shut. “baby… fuck.”

“please.”

his hips rolled forward, just once, and she whimpered, legs tightening around him.

she was a mess beneath him, panting, moaning, her body twitching with every slow drag of his cock inside her. he tried to stay calm, to take his time, but her cunt was clenching around him so tight, so perfect, and the way she sounded—

“shiiiiit,” he breathed, “you’re squeezin’ me like that and expectin’ me to behave?”

“can’t help it,” she whimpered, back arching. “feels so good.”

he kissed her again, messy and deep, his hand locking around her thigh as he started to fuck her—slow but deeper now, a familiar rhythm catching.

“you’re drivin’ me crazy,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. feel so close to you.”

her eyes rolled back, mouth falling open around a moan. she gripped at his back, her nails dragging down his shoulder blades.

he was losing it—hips stuttering, brain fogged out, every nerve in his body lighting up.

“fuck, star,” he groaned, “i haven’t fucked in months, i’m gonna fuckin’ embarrass myself.”

she shook her head, gasping. “don’t care—keep going.”

chris let out the softest “fuck,” breath all tangled up in hers, like he was trying to hold back and falling apart anyway. his hands tightened around her waist, dragging her hips just a little closer as he fucked back into her, slow and deep and so unbelievably careful. like he didn’t trust himself not to lose it if he went too hard too fast.

but star wasn’t shy anymore.

every thrust had her moaning, legs wrapping tighter around him, hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer like she didn’t care where it ended as long as it was him. her head fell back against the pillow, jaw slack, lips parted as her whimpers turned desperate.

“chris,” she breathed, voice wrecked, “feels so good, i don’t wanna stop—”

“not gonna,” he murmured, mouth dragging along her collarbone, “you’re takin’ it so good, doin’ so good for me.”

his pace quickened. not rough, but more intent. less hesitation, more need. his body rolled into hers, every drag of his cock pressing deep, nudging that spot inside her that made her hips stutter and her walls tighten.

and god, he felt it.

the way she clenched around him, again and again, her whole body twitching like she was losing control—he was right there with her, sweat beading at his brow, muscles tense like one more second inside her would wreck him.

“you close?” he asked, barely holding it together, voice hoarse.

she nodded, cheeks flushed, tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes from how overwhelming it all felt. “so close,” she whimpered, “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between them, thumb rubbing tight, slow circles over her clit while he fucked her through it. she broke apart seconds later—high-pitched and breathless, her back arching, whole body tightening around him as she came hard, moaning his name like it was all she had left.

chris nearly lost it right then.

“shit, baby—fucking hell dude, i’m gonna—where do you want—”

“i don’t care jus’ want it,” she breathed out, chest still heaving, eyes glassy.

he nodded quickly, kissed her one more time, then pulled out with a low groan and wrapped his hand around himself. he jerked once, twice—eyes locked on hers—before he came hard, warm stripes of it spilling across her belly while he groaned her name through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body locking up from the release.

he collapsed onto his side next to her, panting, one arm lazily thrown across her waist as they both tried to catch their breath.

neither of them spoke for a minute.

it was just labored breathing, skin against skin and the faint hum of the TV still on in the background and the sound of their hearts trying to slow down.

chris finally lifted his head, looked down at the mess across her stomach, then back up at her and they locked eyes.

star snorted.

he blinked. “what.”

“that was so romantic,” she laughed, voice still wrecked. “looked me dead in the eyes while you came on my stomach. movie scene type shit.”

he groaned, dropped his face into her shoulder, laughing too now. “you’re such a pain in the ass.”

“ok but tell me i’m wrong.”

“you’re not,” he mumbled, still breathless.

they laid there a little longer, his hand drifting over her side, slow and soft, like he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. then he sat up, grabbing the towel off the floor and gently wiping her stomach clean, quiet as he did it.

“you okay? was it okay?” he asked once she was settled again, hand still on her hip.

she nodded, turning into him, burying her face in his chest. “more than okay.”

he kissed the top of her head. “good.”

they curled into each other, her leg tossed over his hip, his arm wrapped around her back. he was still coming down from it, mind racing but body soft, warm all over.

she traced lazy shapes into his chest.

“you really never went raw before?” she asked, teasing but genuine.

he nodded. “nah, not once.”

“so technically we lost something together.”

he glanced down at her, eyes soft. “guess we did.”

“gross,” she muttered, grinning.

authors note: this opened a lot of future opportunities lolllll.

[sturnvdds]

ೃ࿔*:･ Snow .ᐟ Reader x FWB.ᐟ Matt

You had the perfect idea - you want Matt to be marked and messy.

⚠︎ smut, more smut, even more fucking smut, dry humping tho, im too fucking horny from this idek read at ur own risk, barely proofread

[ Can be standalone but here's Part One ]

His dick is painfully pulsing, the sight of you like this driving him absolutely insane. You’re straddling his lap while he’s sprawled flat on your bed, dressed in the silky blue matching set that made his eyes frantically draw over your skin—especially the parts of your body that were covered in a delicate lace. 

“Baby, hey—mmmm,” Matt moans, his nostrils flaring as he attempts to suck in a heavy breath while his eyes squint shut. 

The mischief etched on your face is enticing, it’s enough to warn him that every time you ‘accidentally’ tease him has a purpose. It’s un-fucking-believable. 

Your teeth gently gnaw into the inside of your cheek, the sheer heat from his body radiating upwards making your skin crawl with anticipation. The hairs behind your neck feel like they’re tingling with some sort of electricity—some sort of sensation that makes your entire body flood with an unbearable ache. 

“There,” you announce, clicking the cap back on your eyeliner as you worship the sight below you. It’s your name—his chest is decorated with the black eyeliner, each letter making your lips purse into a devious smile. 

As you let your eyes drift upward, you're met with a sight that makes your stomach drop.The way he’s looking at you is everything—the way he’s already breathless and all you’ve done is written a couple letters on his skin like it was your personal canvas of passion. 

Matt licks over his lips, his mouth parting while he lets out short pants as his hands grip tighter on your hips. “Sweetheart, I…fuck, you’re so sexy like this—so—so fuckin’ perfect like this,” he purrs, his hands groping and massaging into your skin greedily. Your heart races from the incessant touch, the thrill pulsing from your heartbeat and echoing in every part of your body—especially between your legs. 

You had to lean forward in order to get a good enough grip on the eyeliner to draw your name neatly across his chest. Matt opted for stripping down to just his briefs, wanting you to be well aware of how hot this was to him since you had been hesitant to ask to do it in the first place. 

And god—now you’re brutally aware of how much he’s enjoying this. Especially as you sit back down, his hard bulge pressing directly against you through the thin silk in a way that makes your body pulse with a dizzy sensation—one that makes it a little hard to breathe properly. But you’re not complaining. You could never complain about this hazy feeling—some sort of dreamy cloud consuming your senses with a feeling of a hot bliss. 

“Matt.”

Your hushed words are paired with a relaxed face. He wants to respond, he tries to gather up the thick amount of saliva gathering in his mouth in order to speak—but fails. 

The second you shift your body to grind your core directly on him, he’s gone—his eyes roll back, his grip on your hips relentless, and his abdomen tensing as he feels a coil of pleasure knotting in his gut. 

“You’re—you’re such a fuckin’ teas—”

He doesn’t get to finish the complaint—not before your eyes drift down to his chest, the display of your name making some sort of possessive urge fall over you with complete lust. And the feeling moves your body for you, your muscles and ligaments only a vessel of overwhelming emotions as you glide yourself to roll your hips. 

God. You feel his girth slide between your folds, the ridge of his tip brushing against your clit despite the two thin layers left separating the two of you. 

“Shit—fuck,” Matt seethes, his eyes squinted shut as his hands keep you pull tighter against  him, the silk apparently more damp as he moves grinds himself up against you. 

Your brows scrunch together, your mouth drawing into an open circle as Matt really starts to hump himself up against you with pure, feral desire. 

A gasp purses through your lips, your hands falling onto his chest as you try to find some sort of balance while he practically fucks you through the minimal clothes left between your bodies. Your sweaty palms are met with a tacky texture, your eyes barely open enough for you to see the slight smudge of letters from your name being written on his chest. 

“My girl, my—my fuckin’ girl. All dolled up for me, hm?” he tuts, drunk off every sensation as he lets his body follow instinct. 

It’s fucking hot. 

Matt’s under you, small pants and moans leaving his mouth as he ruts himself into you from below, desperately clinging onto your hips as he keeps you pulled against himself with each hard drive of his cock pummeling against your clothed core. 

“I—mhm, for…for—you,” you puff, your voice cracking when he hits an especially sensitive spot that makes you feel like you’re bursting with pleasure. 

It’s barely anything, but it’s a lot. The way you look so dazed above him makes his motions more eager, the sounds leaving his lips becoming louder and louder while he tries to keep a steady pace in the one spot that seems to make you react the most with your nails grasping to dig along his chest. 

“You close? I…I can feel it,” he says, almost like he’s laughing to mock you as you let out an admirable cry. 

You nod quickly, your head bobbing as your eyes squint shut, your body becoming more stiff and reluctant. “-uh, uh,” Matt warns, gripping your hips so tightly that your body is forced to feel every sensation, “-no runnin, sweetheart. I…I gotta make my girl feel so good, hm? Just like—fuck, just like I promised.” 

You wanna smack him for sounding so cocky, but you can’t find it in yourself to do anything but cry and moan as he uses precise movements to somehow target every nerve between your legs. 

It’s so good. You can’t help but scratch along his chest, your thighs burning as every muscle runs stiff while complete euphoria washes over you. 

“M—matt, god!” you breath, your voice heavy with a certain tone that makes him feel his own orgasm inching up on him fast.

“Gonna—gonna fucking cum—I—mmm, god,” he moans, his voice strained as his eyes roll to the back of his head, the wave of pure bliss making it hard to concentrate on what he’s doing as his hips buck uncontrollably, losing his previous rhythm. 

The warm sticky cum erupting through the fabric of his briefs makes your mouth water, your eyes bulging as you drink in the sight of him—marked and messy. 

“Perfect fuckin’ idea, baby. I….god, you’re just perfect,” he huffs, trying to catch his breath as his hands start to pet up and down the tops of your thighs soothingly. 

You bite on your lower lip, your mind and body still buzzing from the after effects of your orgasm as you smile to yourself.

It really was the perfect idea.

A/N: Bitch. I don't even need lube atp, I AM lube tf

·˚ ༘ ʚ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 𖧧

꒰ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱

[sturnvdds]

⌗ . . . YOU DON’T HATE ME

WARNINGS : STEP SIBLING TROPE. ONE BED TROPE. SMUT. DRY HUMPING. MAKING OUT. SPITTING KINK. BITING. LIGHT SLAPPING. HAIR PULLING. TITTY SUCKING. KINDA MEAN!MATT.

god you hated him—hated the way he was so charming and perfect and so fucking hot.

your mom thought that this family trip would bring everyone together, but it really didn’t. you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to pick a fight with matt every chance you got, your arguing and bickering beginning to get on your moms nerves.

“can’t you two get along for one day?” she asked you mid argument, stopping whatever insult you were going to throw at him next. your head whipped in her direction, and you just crossed your arms. “well i would if he wasn’t such an ass all the time.” you snapped.

your mom glared at you, “language.” you quickly mumbled an apology. “you two go find something to do, and i want you guys to get along by the end of it.” both you and matt gave her matching glares of your own at her words.

“fine.” you grumbled, turning your back to matt as you walked off toward your shared room—which was the cherry on top of it all. you had to sleep in the same bed as his every night this trip. having to stop yourself from tracing lines along his chest while he slept—he was too tempting.

the air between you had always been…tense. ever since your parents got married, matt had made it his full-time job to pick on you—cold looks, snide comments, backhanded compliments. but he never left you alone. and no matter how much you claimed to hate him, part of you waited for the attention. craved it even. especially late at night, when the house was quiet and the only thing separating your bodies was the thinnest sheet imaginable.

matt didn’t follow you as you made your way to the room, deciding to peel off and go do his own thing, ignoring your mothers request to spend some time together. you didn’t see him again until later that night after everyone was already in bed—your pajamas were on and the blankets were pulled high over your body.

you weren’t asleep yet, you couldn’t be—not with matt’s body radiating with heat as he climbed under the blankets with you. you couldn’t help the way your body shuttered with how close he was to you.

“you’re taking up the whole damn bed.” matt muttered from behind you as if he knew you weren’t actually asleep, his voice irritated. you rolled your eyes, back still turned to him. “then sleep on the floor, tough guy.”

he laughed, and you could feel it down your spine. “right. like I’d let your bratty little ass win that easy.” and you shifted under the covers, accidentally moving to brush your bare leg against his. “watch it,” he snapped. you rolled your eyes, “you’re so dramatic,” you whispered under your breath.

he moved suddenly—rolling over, pressing his chest against your back, one heavy arm wrapping around your waist. your breath caught at the contact, your body wiggling slightly in his grasp.

“i swear to God.” he murmured, lips brushing your ear, “you just love to piss me off, don’t you? always doin’ shit to rile me up on purpose.” your thighs clenched at his words—he wasn’t wrong.

“and yet you love pretending you don’t like it.” you snipped back.

he hummed, his hand moving to slowly slip under your shirt without hesitation, fingers splaying across your stomach. your brain started to short circuit, whatever snarky words you had disappearing. his touch already having you go limp for him—he’s never touched you like this before. “you walk around in those tiny shorts all week,” he growled. “picking fights with me. you knew what you were doing.”

you gasped when he pulled your hips back against him—his hard cock grinding slowly into your ass. his hand moved up to your throat under your shirt, gently gripping, just enough pressure to make your eyes roll back—your body tingling. you could feel the way your panties became soaked, the fabric sticking to your wet folds.

“you’re not gonna say a word.” he whispered, biting your earlobe. “not unless you want mom to hear her perfect little girl fucking in the guest room.” you whimpered, his words making the heat between your legs more prominent as he began rocking into you, dry humping through the thin layers of clothes. his mouth came down to meet your shoulder—teeth scraping before he bit down—leaving a mark behind on your skin when he pulled away.

“matt.” you breathed heavily, your find already fogging. a sharp sudden slap to your thigh made you cry out softly, your body jerking.

“did I say you could talk?” he spat against your ear, letting his tongue run along the lobe before nipping it. you couldn’t help but to moan into the pillow, writhing as his hand slid to your chest and cupped one of your tits, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardened. slowly he shifted himself, grabbing you and moving you onto your back before slotting himself over you and between your legs.

his mouth followed soon after—tugging your shirt up, lips closing over your tit, tongue licking lazily at your nipple before he sucked hard. letting his teeth nip at your now sensitive bud—the pain making you moan. it was messy and obscene, and you never wanted it to stop.

when he pulled back, spit dripped from his mouth as he stared down at you. his hips began to grind down, rubbing against your clit through the fabric of your panties. you sucked in a sharp breath, your hands coming up to grip at his shirt.

matt smirked, letting a hand come up to grab your face. “c’mon, open up for me sweetheart. you can do that yeah?” he muttered. you obeyed, dazed, your lips parting.

slowly he spat into your mouth, letting the saliva drop into your mouth before he came down and connected his lips to yours. it was heated and desperate, your mouth opening wider to let him in as his teeth nipped your lips, making you bleed slightly.

when he pulled away, his eyes were dark—lust pooled in his orbs. “be a good girl and swallow it.” he demanded.

you did—your eyes locked on his the whole time. you were both breathing heavy now, his hand now tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss you again, roughly.

“i hate you,” you breathed.

“yeah?” he mocked, rocking against you faster now, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. “let’s see how true that really is, cause i think this pussy says otherwise.”

a/n : ik this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but i had to (never written something like this before either). creds to whoever has created stepbrother!matt <3

[sturnvdds]

"You close baby?" OH MY KNEEEEES

౨ৎ AGAINST THE WALL christopher sturniolo 180425

includes. smut, kissing, unprotected sex, wall sex – first post here, hope it's okay!!

when you invited chris over for dinner with your family, you never expected to be where you are right now. yeah sure, you both had been a little more touchy than usual but that was your guys' love language. you'd like to believe it was the not so subtle looks you guys were giving each other, or maybe it was the playing footsies under the table. either way, something got him going which led to your clothes being scattered on the floor as you were struggled to hold in your moans from the pleasure you were receiving.

"chris– fuck, they're right downstairs." your voice came out as a breathless whisper, the feeling of his body flush against yours making your head spin. his face rested in the crook of your neck while he holds up your weight against him. "they're busy," he murmurs against your skin. "they won't come upstairs." he was probably right for the most part but it didn't stop you from feeling uneasy. your door was locked, you knew that but knowing that your parents were just a flight of stairs away gave you an adrenaline rush.

his hips moved against yours in a slow rhythm, grinding into you with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. you clung onto him, fingers digging into his shoulderblades making him groan. he pulled away from your neck, pressing his lips against yours to prevent you from making any nose. it was slow, making the moment feel even more intimate as you let out a soft moan against his lips with your hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his neck. you felt your orgasm approaching rather quickly, whining as his thrusts start to get sloppier.

"you close baby?" he whispered in your ear after pulling away from the kiss allowing you to throw your head back against the wall as you nod. "please.. so close, chris." your hands scramble to grab onto his shoulders again while you clench around his dick continuously. your lips part in a silent scream as you cum, the feeling of him so deep inside you making you whimper as he chases his own orgasm.

lol i'm not proud of this but hey at least i got something done i guess ( #needthissobad ) – feel free to give any feedback so i can improve!!

[sturnvdds]

something bad | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

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

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

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

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you didn’t close the gap.

You were leaving it up to him.

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

Instead, you met him halfway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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