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#Chris x Reader
sturniqlo · 2 days
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Spilled Water- M.S
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summary: where pregnant!reader films a video with the triplets and her water breaks and matt is freaking out. BLURB
cw: cursing, panicking(?)
an: lowercase intended
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"no! the cooking oil! that's y/n's coconut oil!" nick, wearing a chef hat and a white apron, snatches the small mason jar from chris' hands. "what is my coconut oil even doing here?" y/n waddles to nick to grab it. "i went to grab it from your bathroom, i thought nick had said coconut oil." chris explains.
"how'd you hear- nevermind." nick sighs and returns to the mixing bowl. "i don't know where their stuff is!" both nick and chris had came over to matt and y/n's apartment as y/n was nearing the end of her pregnancy and matt didn't want her to be alone in case she went into labor.
"the oil is in the kitchen, genius." matt says, and turns to the cabinet where the oil sits behind. "okay, guys, today we are making a cake from scratch!" nick holds up the empty mixing bowl and talks to the camera. "usually we bake boxed cakes, so we decided to switch it up for todays video. and don't worry, we have the expert here, y/n!" she shyly waves to the camera.
she's been in a couple of their videos and the fans adored her. "guys, y/n makes these really good chocolate croissants, but the boss man nick wanted a fucking cake." chris crosses his arms. "hey, what's wrong with cake? we," y/n points to her face and her swollen belly. "also wanted cake." matt laughs. "thank you, y/n and baby. see, chris, i'm not the only one who wanted cake."
"alright, enough about who wanted cake. let's get this show on the road." matt drapes his arm around his pregnant girlfriends shoulders. "okay, chris, pour in two cups of flour." nick reads off of his phone. "where are the measuring cups?" chris looks around. "ugh! motherfucker look around!"
"don't be mean to chris." y/n walks away from matt's hold and opens the drawer to grab the measuring cups. "thank you-" chris starts off. "it's not our fault he's a little bit different." y/n breaks out into a laugh and nick and matt follow her. "okay, okay stop it! i think i peed a little. she's pressing on my bladder."
"alright now that we have all of our dry ingredients mixed together, we're going to add in our wet ingredients." matt says. "how many cups of water do we need?" y/n asks, a bit in discomfort. she's been having a bit of braxton hicks lately, but her doctor said to not worry. however, these were a bit different but, she didn't really pay too much attention to it.
nick tells her how much and she walks towards the sink and pours it. as she walks back nick gasps. "y/n, you spilled the water on yourself." he points to her stained grey sweatpants. "what? no i didn't, look." she holds up the cup that holds the water.
"babe, your water broke!" matt says with widened eyes. "oh my god!" she sets down the cup on the counter and looks down, sure enough her water did break. "i- i don't know how i didn't feel it." she giggles. "chris go- go grab the baby bag it's in the- in the- fuck- the closet by the uh- the door." matt stumbles over his words. chris doesn't do anything but nod and hurry off to get the bag.
"oh my gosh, she's coming? like now?" nick says, y/n laughs as she can't take him seriously with the chef hat on. "y/n, come on, we need to take you to the hospital!" matt places a hand on the small of her back and leads her to the door.
"matt, baby, wait. i need to change my pants." she turns and walks into their shared room. "what? no, you're fine like this! you're in labor." matt says, running a hand through his hair. "hey, calm down, okay." y/n reassures him and holds his face in her hands. "i'm feeling fine as of now, i think we still have some time until i start getting contractions."
"okay, are- are you sure?" she nods. "i'm sure."
"oh!" y/n shrieks, putting a hand on her back as she stands in front of the bathroom counter. she was brushing her hair until she got her very first contraction. "matt, get the car ready!" she take a deep breath and tries to ignore the pain. "come on, come on! chris has the bag, is it okay if they come?"
"i don't care if- fuck." she gets a strong one. "it's okay, you're okay." he kisses her forehead and walks her out the room. "chris lock the door. her keys are on the table." matt tells chris as nick now holds her and walks her out the door. "how are you feeling?" nick says. "like im about to give birth."
"wait! what about the cake?" chris says.
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girliemattitude · 1 day
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This is giving ‘The look he gives you when you send him a horny text while on public’ 🤭
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taliaslutiolo · 3 days
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silly bf!chris x fem!reader ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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© TALIASLUTIOLO 2024. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.
xoxo, talia
taglist ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
@chrattenthusiast @guccifrog @cindylcuwho @alzst4rr @bernardsbendystraws @bellybumm @chestersturniolo @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @freshloverr @fruitglazed @gamermattsgf @gwenlore @hearts4chriss @kenzieiskoolaid @lovingmattysposts @mattscoquette @mattssluttywaist @muwapsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @nickuniversity @nicksbf @onmykneesformatt @plasticferal @pussypie456 @recklesssturniolo @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @trynnafindclo @whoreforchr1s @yesterdaysproblem @christinarowie332 @itwasmarooonn @freakyellssturniolo @delilahsturniolo @333michelle @annielolz @cconeyislandbby @hellokittylover4life @ashlishes @chriseatingmeoutin4k @psychologyloverfr @n8doe
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rebelliousmuse · 2 days
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I love him🥺
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etherealval · 3 days
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caught in the dark . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖
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pairing: matt sturniolo x reader
warning: kissing, mentions of the dark and not proof read lol
a/n: inspired by a scene in the movie ‘bodies bodies bodies’ literally so good you need to watch it !!!!
ᯓ★
the evening had the evening started off simple enough. matt had invited you to a small get-together one of his friends was hosting. it was being held at a friend’s house—a massive, sprawling mansion that felt more like something out of a movie than an actual home. you weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but knowing that chris and nick, were coming too made it an easy decision to join in. plus, how could you resist spending more time with matt?
as soon as you arrived, you could tell the vibe was relaxed. the house was impressive, all high ceilings and spacious rooms, you wondered how people even had the type of money to afford this kind of place.
a handful of matt’s friends were already there, lounging around, chatting, drinks in hand. you fell into the easy rhythm of it—sipping on some random punch you had been offered, exchanging jokes with chris, and sticking close to matt as the night unfolded.
matt kept you close by his side, his arm draped casually around your waist as you both joined the conversation. the drinks flowed easily, the conversation light and fun, and it wasn’t long before you were all laughing at chris’s ridiculous stories, nick’s quick-witted comebacks, and matt’s attempts to keep everyone in line.
the night felt perfect. there was no pressure, just good company, good drinks, and the buzz of something exciting in the air. as the evening wore on, you found yourself glancing at matt more and more, his presence steady and warm beside you. you loved how he always seemed to have one hand on you, like he needed the constant connection.
“alright, guys,” theo suddenly piped up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “i’ve got an idea.”
everyone quieted down a little, turning their attention to theo, who was clearly brimming with some kind of plan.
“let’s play hide and seek,” he announced, his grin only widening as a few groans echoed around the room. “but here’s the twist, we do it in the dark.”
you couldn’t help but laugh at the suggestion. hide and seek wasn’t exactly something you’d expect at a party like this, but the thought of playing it in this giant mansion, with all the lights turned off, was actually kind of thrilling.
“you’re kidding, right?” nick asked, raising an eyebrow.
“nope!” theo said, standing up and clapping his hands together. “come on, it’ll be fun. this house is huge, and with the lights off? it’s gonna be perfect.”
you exchanged a glance with matt, both of you clearly amused by the idea. he gave you a little shrug, that easy smile of his making your heart flutter.
“i’m in if you are,” he said, his arm tightening around your waist.
“yeah, why not?” you replied with a grin. it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, and the idea of running around in the dark with matt didn’t sound so bad.
“alright, let’s do it,” matt said, looking around at everyone else. after a little more persuasion, everyone agreed, and theo was declared the seeker.
“i’ll give you all a minute to hide,” theo said, heading to the nearest wall and covering his eyes dramatically. “no cheating! and no locking doors.”
the excitement built as theo started counting, his voice echoing through the large living room. you felt a rush of adrenaline as everyone else scattered, running off in different directions to find the best hiding spots. matt gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before darting off, leaving you to find your own spot.
you took off down one of the long hallways, the lights already dimmed, casting everything in soft shadows. the house was massive, with endless rooms to choose from, but you had to be quick. after passing a few rooms that felt too obvious, you finally made your way into the kitchen, where the walk-in pantry caught your eye. it was tucked away in the corner, out of sight, and seemed like the perfect place to hide.
you slipped inside, closing the door behind you as quietly as possible. the pantry was bigger than you expected, with shelves stocked high with food and kitchen supplies. crouching down behind one of the shelves, you tried to slow your breathing, listening to the faint sounds of footsteps somewhere in the distance.
the darkness made everything feel more intense. you could barely see your own hand in front of you, and every little creak or sound in the house made your heart race. you held your breath, waiting for the inevitable moment when theo would find you.
minutes passed, the silence pressing in around you. your heart pounded in your chest, your senses on high alert. but instead of theo’s voice calling out, you suddenly heard the pantry door creak open. your body tensed, and you prepared to be found.
but then, you heard matt’s familiar voice, soft and teasing. “gotcha.”
“matt?” you whispered, your voice low. “what are you doing here? you’re supposed to be hiding.”
“i was,” he whispered back, stepping further into the pantry and closing the door behind him. the darkness swallowed him up, but you could feel his presence close, the air between you charged with something electric.
“how did you even find me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“just lucky, i guess,” matt replied, his voice dropping even lower.
before you could respond, matt’s hands found your waist, pulling you toward him in the darkness. his lips met yours in a sudden, hungry kiss, taking you completely by surprise. for a moment, all you could do was gasp softly against his mouth, but the feel of his body pressing against yours quickly erased any hesitation.
you kissed him back, your hands finding his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened. matt’s hands roamed over your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. the darkness made everything feel more intense, more urgent. without the ability to see, your other senses took over—the feel of matt’s lips moving against yours, the way his hands gripped your hips, the soft sounds of your shared breaths filling the small space.
his tongue teased your bottom lip, and you parted your lips for him, the kiss growing more heated, more desperate. matt groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding under your shirt, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your waist. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into his touch, craving more of him. you felt his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him as your bodies moved together in the darkness. you could feel the hard press of him against you, the heat between you building with every passing second. matt broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. his hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that made your pulse race.
“i couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “i’ve been wanting to do this all night.”
you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “you should’ve said something sooner.”
“i didn’t think i’d get you alone like this,” he replied, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more urgent than before.
this time, there was no holding back. your hands slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you kissed him deeply, the intensity of it sending a rush of heat through your entire body. matt’s hands moved lower, gripping your hips firmly as he pressed you against the shelves behind you, his body trapping yours against the cool surface.
you let out a soft gasp as you felt the friction between your bodies, the heat of him igniting something deep inside you. you moved against him, grinding your hips into his, and matt groaned softly, his grip on you tightening.
the small space of the pantry seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the darkness. every touch, every kiss felt like fire, and you couldn’t get enough of him.
matt’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly as he pressed even closer, his body fitting perfectly against yours. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in even tighter as your lips moved against his, the kiss turning into something more hungry and wild.
your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him harder, and matt responded with a low, breathless moan, his hands roaming over your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. the way he touched you, the way he moved against you, it was all-consuming, and you couldn’t stop the soft sounds that escaped your lips as he kissed down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
you could feel him everywhere, his body pressed so close to yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. every time you moved against him, it sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you found yourself craving more, needing more of him.
matt’s hands were everywhere—sliding up your thighs, gripping your hips, exploring every inch of your body in the darkness. you could feel his breath hitch as you ground your hips against his, the friction sending waves of heat through both of you.
“god,” matt breathed against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “you’re driving me crazy.”
you smiled against his lips, feeling the same wild need coursing through your veins. “good,” you whispered back, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingers grazing over the hard muscles of his back.
he kissed you again, this time with even more urgency, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer, your bodies pressed so tightly together that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began. the heat between you was undeniable, and the way his body moved against yours made your pulse race even faster. you felt like you were burning up from the inside out, and all you could focus on was the way matt touched you, kissed you, held you as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
your fingers trailed down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he shifted, his hands slipping under your shirt, his touch making your skin tingle. every brush of his fingers against you sent sparks of desire through your body, and you arched into him, craving more, needing more of his touch.
matt’s lips left a burning trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive spots that made you gasp softly, your hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. the small space of the pantry felt suffocating in the best way, like you couldn’t get enough air, but you didn’t care. the only thing that mattered was matt, the feel of his body against yours, the way he was making you feel.
“you have no idea what you do to me,” matt whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.
you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a soft moan as he rolled his hips against yours, the friction driving you wild. your head fell back against the pantry shelves, your mind foggy with the overwhelming sensation of being so close to him, of feeling every inch of him pressed against you.
you kissed him again, your hands sliding down his chest, fingers brushing over the hard lines of his stomach, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips. matt groaned into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, his body grinding into yours with a desperation that matched your own.
the kiss turned hotter, more frantic, as the need between you both intensified. every touch, every movement felt like it was pushing you closer to the edge, and you couldn’t get enough. your hands roamed over his body, exploring every inch of him, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch, the way his breath hitched whenever you moved against him. his hands slid up your thighs, gripping you tightly as he kissed you harder, his lips moving against yours with a kind of raw intensity that made your entire body burn with desire. you could feel how much he wanted you, could feel it in the way he touched you, in the way his breath came out in short, uneven bursts.
“matt,” you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper in the darkness.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with lust, his breathing heavy. “yeah?” he asked, his voice rough, his hands still gripping your hips.
“don’t stop,” you whispered, your hands sliding into his hair, pulling him back down to kiss you again.
matt didn’t need any more convincing. he kissed you deeply, his hands exploring your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you, his touch making your heart race faster with every second. the heat between you was unbearable, every movement sending waves of pleasure through your body.
his hands slipped lower, gripping your thighs as he pulled you even closer, your bodies moving together in perfect sync. every brush of his lips against your skin, every soft groan that escaped his lips, made the desire between you grow stronger, more intense.
you didn’t care about the game anymore, didn’t care that anyone could walk in at any second. all that mattered was matt, the way he was making you feel, the way his body moved against yours like he couldn’t get close enough.
you kissed him harder, your hands sliding under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips. matt groaned softly, his hands sliding up your back as he pressed you even tighter against him, the two of you completely lost in each other.
the heat of his body, the feel of his hands on you, it was all too much, and you couldn’t help the soft sounds that escaped your lips as you ground your hips against his, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.
you could feel matt’s breath hitch against your neck, his hands gripping you tighter as he moved against you, his body responding to every movement you made. the tension between you both was unbearable, the desire building with every second, until it felt like you might burst from the intensity of it all.
and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, the pantry door suddenly creaked open, and the blinding beam of a flashlight flooded the small space.
“oh, come on,” theo’s voice rang out, filled with amusement and disbelief. you froze, your heart skipping a beat as you looked up, blinking against the harsh light.
“really?” theo continued, his tone dripping with mock disgust. “in the pantry?”
standing next to him, chris groaned in frustration, clearly unimpressed. “for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shaking his head as he took in the scene in front of him.
matt pulled back from you, his hands still on your waist as he looked over at his brother and friend, his cheeks flushed, his hair a mess from your fingers. “we got a little carried away,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
theo just laughed, lowering the flashlight as he stepped back. “i’ll say. next time, maybe pick a room with a lock, huh?”
chris, still looking thoroughly done with the whole situation, turned on his heel and walked away, muttering something under his breath about needing another drink. theo gave you both one last smirk before following him, leaving the pantry door wide open.
as soon as they were gone, you and matt burst into laughter, the tension from the moment quickly dissipating into something lighter. your heart was still racing, but now it was more from the absurdity of the situation than anything else.
“oh my god,” you said between giggles, trying to catch your breath. “that was so embarrassing.”
“yeah,” matt agreed, grinning as he helped you to your feet. “but totally worth it.”
you gave him a playful shove, still laughing. “next time, we’re locking the door.”
“definitely,” he said, leaning in for one last, soft kiss before pulling you close. “i guess we should probably get back to the game, huh?”
you nodded, your pulse finally starting to calm down. “yeah, probably. but just so you know, chris is never going to let you live this down.”
matt chuckled, his arm sliding around your waist as he led you out of the pantry. “fair enough. but i’m still calling this a win.”
you couldn’t help but smile as you walked back into the chaos of the house, the game long forgotten, but the memory of the night and matt’s hands on you — burned in your mind forever.
taglist: @heartsforvin , @42angelgirl , @sturncakez , @matts-myloverboy , @mattsbitchh
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chrisbesitos · 1 day
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I need a blurb of Chris saying he never had a favorite color before he met younger reader
ex: Chris and younger!reader were going on their first date. It was all cute and great energy until Chris asked “what do you think my favorite color is?” Yn spent a while looking into Chris blue eyes and said “orange!” Was she right? No. Truth is Chris doesn’t have a favorite color, but ever since yn said orange he could never look at orange the same. Orange reminded him of yn and her beautiful smile as her eyes lit up when she said the color. Now it’s current day and yn bought Chris a gift (like an orange sweatshirt) and yn said “why is ur favorite color orange?” And Chris told her the story on why orange is his fav color
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it made me think of you
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"You have ice cream in your nose." Chris said, pointing to Y/N's nose, she crossed her eyes trying to look laughing. "Let me clean this." He rubbed her nose, cleaning the pink from the strawberry ice cream she was eating.
They went out to the movies, it was the first they hung out without Chris' brothers and their friends. Every time they hung out, they never could have some time alone, because Chris' brothers are always interrupting and being annoying. So, after a long time, Chris decided to invite Y/N to go to the movies, but only he and her, his brothers wasn't invited. So, it was a date.
"Is all gone?" Y/N asked, showing her nose to Chris, he denied laughing. She strained her legs to Chris' lap, biting the cone of her ice cream, the boy slightly caressed her skin with his fingertips. "What do you think my favorite color is?" She asked with her mouth full.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, dummy." Chris said, pinching Y/N's thigh. She giggled, kicking his chest. "Well, your favorite color is probably green, because you know, you wear this color all the time." He said, smiling. He's just joking, because he knows everything about you. "You know your soul is pink, I love when you wear pink."
"I wear pink all the time." Y/N said, Chris nodding with his head.
"My turn, what do you think my favorite color is?" Chris asked, throwing his napkin on the car dashboard, Y/N touched her chin thinking about the answer. She scrunched her nose, her lips leaning in a smile.
"You always wear orange, so orange is your favorite color." Y/N said, touching Chris' chin with her foot, she was only wearing socks. The boy held her foot and put it back on his lap, laughing. "Am I right?"
"Yeah, I like orange." Chris smiled, rubbing her legs passionately. Y/N smiled proudly.
But it was a lie, Chris didn't have a favorite color. He likes all of them, but he never had a favorite. But since this day, Chris's favorite color is orange. Every time he sees the color orange, he remembers the day of their first date. Y/N's pretty smile, her bright eyes, the pink sweater she was wearing. She's his favorite girl, so orange will always make he remember her.
When Y/N was shopping with Nick, she found it a orange hoodie and made her remember Chris, so she bought. Later in the day, when they were together in the room, Y/N was showing her new clothes and she gave Chris the present she bought.
"Did you like it? It's orange and you love orange." Y/N said, smiling and holding the hoodie. Chris nodded, smiling like her. He grabbed the hoodie and put it on his body. "Fits perfectly."
"Yeah, I love it." He said, Chris held her waist and pulled Y/N closer to him. He kissed her nose. "Thank you so much, babydoll."
"Why is your favorite color orange?" She asked, with her hands around his neck, inhaling his scent. He rubbed her waist, smiling at her question.
"Because of you." He touched her nose. "I didn't have a favorite color until the night you told me my favorite is orange, since then it is my favorite. Reminds me of you."
"Really?"
"Yes, make me think of you." He gave her a peck on her lips. "And because it fits me really well, don't you think?" Y/N giggled, nodding with her head. She loves Chris so much, he's the man of her life, definitely.
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they're so babies 😭😭😭 i love write younger!reader
tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2
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sturniolotwins · 13 hours
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the most angelic mf to look at
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chrissweatytoes · 2 days
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SAFE WORD
WARNING INCLUDES: overstim, fingering, oral fem!receiving, unprotected sex (use protection kids), use of a safe word, degradation, use of pet names (baby, slut, ma, mamas). ENJOY!!
word count: 1.2k
⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆
BLURB - pairing chris sturniolo x fem!reader
softdom!chris who couldn’t get enough of you tonight… he’s already made you finish 3 times but this time you said no more…
chris and i always know our safe word, both of us know that we can use it, but we never have. we just never get too… into it.
i was laying in bed on my phone while chris was (surprise surprise), getting a pepsi from the fridge. i knew what i was wearing was a bit skimpy but i didn’t think it mattered, he hadn’t been looking at my body at all tonight… i stand up out of bed and look in the mirror next to chris’ desk, checking myself out, realising that chris’ shirt is the only thing im wearing other than lacy pink panties revealing my whole ass. i walk back over to his bed and grab my phone. i take a few moments to take some mirror pics and send them to chris, knowing he’s active on his phone. i stay on imessage to see when he sees the slutty photos i sent. as soon as i see that he’s seen the photos i hear huge, loud footsteps running up the stairs, the sound thumping through my head. when i hear the door creek open i quickly turn around.
“hi baby!” i go to walk over to him but he stops me, grabbing onto my waist and pulling my hips against his. chris immediately crashes his lips into mine, not pulling away until im sat on the end of the bed, shirtless.
“lay down, shirt off.” he says bluntly, swiftly ripping my shirt off and softly pushing my shoulder. now laying on chris’ bed in light pink panties and my bare chest facing him, it’s hard not to notice the massive bulge in chris’ pants and the fact he can’t stop staring at my tits.
“turn around. now.” i do as he says knowing that if chris is mad and horny nothing will stop him. i face the head of the bed on my hands and knees. i feel a light breeze of air hit my skin before his large hands slap across my ass.
“oww! chris!” i let out, then regretted it. “fuck.” i think to myself. telling him that it hurts is just going to make him do it more. “shit.”
i feel the tug of him ripping my panties down, feeling my juices drip down my thigh.
“shit ma, so wet already? you’re such a little slut you know that? sending me those pictures… what’d you think was going to happen?” i keep quiet, my light whimpering as the cold air hits my swollen folds. this only seems to turn him on more… 
“on your back mamas” i turn myself around to lie on my back, my eyes looking directly at his. my body tenses as he shoves one finger inside me.
“fuck chris, not even any warning?” i drag my hand down to my clit attempting to build up my orgasm when he stops me, grabbing my wrists and taking off his belt, he ties them together. usually chris isn’t into bondage but tonight he’s completely different.
“m-more chris, please”
“are you gonna be a good girl?” i nod my head instantly, biting my lip in preparation for a second finger.
“mhm, if you say so. you better fucking be good. okay?” with ease he slips another finger inside me. my quiet whimpers turn into pornographic moans.
as i approach my high, chris moves his other hand from my hips, to my bundle of nerves, fast and swift with his movements.
“c-close…” i manage to say over my laboured breaths.
“come for me ma.” his words itself sends me over the edge, my body squirming as my slick drips onto his fingers. he licks his fingers, not wanting to miss even a drop of come.
“mmh you taste so fucking good baby,” chris kneels down on his knees, prying my legs apart and holding my thighs.
“c-chris?”
“yes sweetheart? too sensitive? well this is what you get for being such a little slut. you’re my slut hm?” he looks up at me through his lashes, all innocent looking. with no warning at all he brings his tongue up to my warm, and wet cunt. licking up all of my previous orgasms evidence.
i lift my head just enough to see chris’ face buried in my pussy.
“mhmm chris. yes! right there baby…” my moans mixed with the slurping sound fills the air.
chris shoots his fingers into my warm cunt and his lips latch onto my bean.
the thrusting of his fingers speed up as he watches my legs shake, struggling to hold on any more.
“s-so close…” with one more thrust, i released for the second time.
“shit ma, you taste so good… you did great baby, you think you can go again?” he lifts his head from my crotch, my juices all over his face.
i nod my head, unsure if i can go another round or not.
“i can try…”
“you can do it baby, just relax.” he unzips his jeans and lets them pool at his ankles. he then rips down his boxers, strokes his length a few times letting his pre-cum drip onto the bed sheets and then finally lines himself up with my pussy. he slowly starts letting his brick hard cock explore my warm cunt. 
my whimpers grow into moans once his dick is finally all the way in.
“this okay?” he looks down at me with a scared look in his eyes, i can sense he’s worried about me.
i nod my head “mhm hm”
he picks up the pace and starts thrusting inside me. my tits are bouncing along to his rough rhythm. chris moves his hands to my hips, pressing hard enough to leave marks. as much as i want to touch him and pull his hair, i know how much it’s turning him on seeing my hands tied together.
“need… to… cum…” 
“cum f’me, cum with me.” his words tip me over the edge, his movements become uneven and slower as he finishes inside me.
“fuck chris…” i say as he pulls out slowly.
“let me clean you up…” chris pulls up his boxers and jeans, kneeling again as he brings his mouth back up to my pussy.
“no, chris… i can’t.” this doesn’t stop him. he looks at me briefly. a hungry look in his eyes he lowers his head and starts sucking on my clit.
“chris stop.” i say bluntly trying to move away but his grip on my hips is too hard. he continues with his movements, not a care in the world.
“flash!” this stops him immediately.
“shit baby i’m so sorry…” he pulls away from my crotch and wipes his mouth on my shirt that now lays next to me.
“i’m so fucking sorry… i didn’t know you wanted me to stop so bad.” chris leans over me and unbuckles his belt that's holding my wrists in place. he crawls into bed and taps his chest, signalling for me to lay with him.
“it’s okay,i’m okay, don't worry. can we run a bath soon?” i crawl into his arms, pulling the duvet up to cover my naked body. 
“sure baby, soon. i just want to hold you for a bit… i’m so sorry if i hurt you.” 
⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆
hey ya'llllll! i hope you enjoyed. this was my first time writing smut so ik its not gonna be great but i hope it was good enough! please honestly tell me what you though about this and what you wanna see in the future 💕
with love, mals x
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Bad Guy 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.
You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 
You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  
Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 
“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 
“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  
You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 
“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 
He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 
“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  
He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 
“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 
He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 
You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 
You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 
You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 
A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 
“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 
“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 
“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  
“There a problem?” He asks. 
“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 
“I don’t like your tone.” 
You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 
“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 
“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 
You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 
“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 
He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 
“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 
“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 
“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 
“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 
You blink, “you don’t know me.” 
“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 
“I don’t want it,” you insist. 
“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 
You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 
You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 
“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 
“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 
You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 
“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 
“Now smile,” he demands. 
You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 
You force a smile. 
“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 
Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 
“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 
“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 
“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 
You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 
You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 
He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 
💀
Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 
You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 
The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 
You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 
Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 
You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 
You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 
The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 
You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 
You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 
“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 
You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 
The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 
“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 
You snort, “sure she did.” 
“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 
“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 
You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 
“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 
Can be. 
You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 
He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 
You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 
“I appreciate the ride but--” 
“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 
You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 
“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 
He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 
You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 
“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 
You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 
“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 
“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 
He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 
“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 
“I can--” 
“Just be careful,” he snips. 
Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  
You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 
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qnstrnl · 1 day
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GOD FUCKING DAMN I HAVE NO GAG REFLEX I CANT CATCH A BREAK I HAVE NO GAG REFLEX U LOOK SO GOOD MATT I HAVE NO GAG REFLEX LOOKING TASTY ASF
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sturniqlo · 18 hours
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Pretty Girl Soft Launching On Insta
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summary: reader and matt love to soft launch in their instagram posts SOCIAL MEDIA BLURB
cw: FLUFF
an: thank you so so so much for 2k!! here is my gift to you guys😕💋 | read pretty girl here
masterlist | join my taglist
-----------------------------------------------
it's been several months since matt and y/n have made it official. even though they've never publicly said that they're together, everyone knows. something they love to is post mini soft launches in their instagram posts and stories and watch the fans go crazy in the comments.
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liked by matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, oliviarodrigo, ariana_greenblatt, christophersturniolo, and 804,742 others
y/n/y/l/n: lately🌚
view all 17,492 comments
madisonbeer: need the first photo framed in my room
| y/n/y/l/n: i love youu
nicolassturniolo: 🌊
| matt&y/nfan: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!
sturniolofan7: the third slide omg
jennaortega: okay, where is that ice cream from?
y/nsgirl: is that MATT?!
matthew.sturniolo just uploaded to their story
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liked by y/n/y/l/n, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, jakewebber9, larray, and 526,853 others
matthew.sturniolo: painting is not for me
view all 1,843 comments
christophersturniolo: your painting didn't even look like a cat
y/n/y/l/n: 🖼️
sturniolo26: matt soft launching?
nathandoe8: paint on the $50 shirt is crazy
y/nfan48: y/n's comment omg
| hater8: it's just an emoji
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liked by matthew.sturniolo, ariana_greenblatt, nicolassturniolo, conangray, madisonbeer
y/n/y/l/n: ☀️
comments have been turned off on this post
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liked by y/n/y/l/n, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, nathandoe8, quenblackwell, and 634,472 others
matthew.sturniolo: slumped in nyc
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nicolassturniolo: bring me back a bagel
y/n/y/l/n: 🗽
christophersturniolo: i think you forgot to take me
sturnfan38: the fact that they love going to new york together now😭😭
| sturnfan01: how do we know?
| sturnfan38: they've been seen in ny together like 5 times in the past few months
y/n/y/l/n just uploaded to their story
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time jump (kinda)
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liked by matthew.sturniolo, sabrinacarpenter, christophersturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo, and 947,482 others
y/n/y/l/n: around the sun with him :)
comments have been limited
matthew.sturniolo: ❤️❤️
nicolassturniolo: so cutee
conangray: omg
christophersturniolo: me when?
jennaortega: matthew.sturniolo i want her back😭
| matthew.sturniolo: sorry :/ we're locked in
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liked by y/n/y/l/n, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, jennaortega, madisonbeer, and 853,382 others
matthew.sturniolo: 365 days with pretty girl :D
view all 9,382 comments
y/n/y/l/n: ily
sturniolo58: boyfriend matt boyfriend matt boyfriend matt
christophersturniolo: my parents fr
sturniolo37: it's actually official now
y/nfan95: he calls her pretty girl oh my gosh😭😭
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camzeecorner · 2 days
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I can’t take this anymore.
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taliaslutiolo · 3 days
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miyasturniolo · 19 hours
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MULLET | nick sturniolo
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pairing: bsf!nick x f!reader
summary: nick needed a haircut but he was impatient and decided to cut it himself, though when you noticed, you offered to help, even though you weren't a professional hairdresser.
warning: fluff (??), stress, use of y/n
a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. no joke but this happened to me before, my friend cut his hair so I had to give him a buzz cut because there was no saving it
WORDS: 1.0k
miyasturniolo on wattpad
you - pink | nick- purple
-
Not long ago, Nick called you in a panic, his voice filled with distress. He said he looked like a failed science experiment, making it difficult for you to understand what he was saying.
Despite thinking he might be overreacting, you agreed to help to whatever he was asking. However, upon arriving, you were still confused about what was going on.
Nick greeted you at the door with his hood up, avoiding eye contact. His demeanour only added to your bewilderment.
As you followed him upstairs to the lounge, he finally confided in you. "Y/n, I've made a massive mistake," Nick admitted as you took off your shoes.
"What have you done?" you asked, meeting his troubled gaze.
With his brothers in their room, unaware of your presence, Nick led you to the bathroom and locked the door so they couldn't come in.
Upon seeing hair scattered around the sink, you raised an eyebrow, studying the mess before turning your attention to Nick.
He pulled back his hood, revealing the haircut he had given himself, which was absolutely terrible. "Oh, shit," you whispered to yourself.
He shot you a glare and ran his hand through his hair, but some pieces of hair he had cut were still stuck in his hair and ended up on his hand.
"Nick... how did this even happen?" you whispered as he let out a frustrated sigh and replied, not too loudly.
"The hairstylist wasn't available for two weeks. I couldn't walk around looking like I had a bird's nest on my head for that long," he said, his eyes on you as he wiped away a tear of frustration.
You gazed at his hair, fighting the urge to laugh. It wasn't the right moment for that.
"Why don't you wash your hair to get rid of the cut pieces and then I can help you fix it properly?" you suggested quietly, making sure he could hear you.
He glares at you for a moment before grabbing the shower head, as you both stand in the bathroom.
You were cleaning hair from the sink, flushing it down the toilet, while Nick leaned over the bathtub to wash his hair.
"You know, you look like such an idiot with your haircutting skills," you tease, a slight smirk playing on your lips. In response, he sprays water at you, then back at his own hair.
Your eyes widen as the lukewarm water soaks into your clothes, feeling colder than expected. He chuckles slightly at his own antics before continuing to wash his hair.
There is a moment of silence as you sit on the counter, and he stands, annoyed at the sight of his hair falling out with the water.
After he finishes, he dries his hair with a towel, clearly frustrated with himself.
He looks at you and says, "I might as well shave my fucking head like I used to, I don't think we can fix this shit haircut." He gestures towards his hair in exasperation.
Even though his hair was wet, you were contemplating how to fix it, but he had already trimmed the sides and snipped randomly around the top of his head.
"Let me give it a shot first, maybe you can pull off a mullet?" you suggest, not fully confident in your skills as a hairstylist, but willing to give it a go.
"You can't even cut a straight line on paper, let alone my hair," he quips, causing you to roll your eyes. "I bet I can do a better job than you," you counter.
He gives you a defiant look and gestures with his hand before handing you the scissors.
You sit on the counter while he stands next to you, leaning in slightly so you can reach his hair more easily.
As you examine his hair, you try to stifle a laugh at how messy it is, especially with it being wet, which only seems to make it worse.
You begin cutting his hair, unsure of where to start, but determined to make some progress despite the initial mess.
"I'm going to record a YouTube video with a bald look. What should I say about it? Oh, I'm back as Eleven?" he says with attitude as you continue cutting his hair into a mullet.
"Nick, maybe trust me on this?" you say, making him stay silent, still annoyed by his actions.
You stay quiet while drying his hair, then grab the shaver and continue working on the sides, piquing his curiosity and prompting him to ask what you're trying to achieve.
"The only real option is a mullet," you say, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me?" he mutters.
You hum in agreement and turn him around so he's facing you as you continue. "I don't know if I should thank you or not," he says quietly.
You just smile at him before resuming the cutting. Eventually, you finish his hair, and he looks in the mirror.
It definitely looks better than before, but you're not a professional hairstylist, so while your cutting skills are good, you're just unsure about styling it.
He simply smiled and gave you a small hug before tousling your hair a bit to style it into a mullet.
"You did resemble a failed science experiment earlier," you jest, causing him to glance at you in the mirror before playfully tapping the back of your head, though not forcefully.
"I might just trim your hair while you're sleeping and see who ends up looking like the failed science experiment with my haircutting skills," he teases with a smirk.
masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!
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chrissv4mp · 1 day
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WHY AREN'T YOU HOME?
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NAVIGATION — SERIES MASTERLIST
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● — The cool air of the night hit you just perfectly, the heat from the party you had just stepped away from almost completely gone now. You don't even know why you agreed to attend this party. It was just some stupid event for people with over 1M followers on Instagram. Your friends were the ones who convinced you, and you really wish they hadn't.
Your manager said it was good for you as well, and what else were you supposed to say? You weren't really the best at saying no to people, either. So, you had no choice other than to come.
As you sit down on the side of the sidewalk, you rest your chin on your palm, staring out into the empty backlot of the building, eyes darting all across the parking lot until all you can see is darkness. Your phone buzzes repeatedly in your other hand, signaling that a call was coming through, but you couldn't care less.
It was probably just more scam callers trying to sell you some fake product, but as you decline the call, you realize it's not the same number. Your phone buzzes again, "No Caller ID." Flashing at the top of your screen in bold letters. Who else would call you at 10 pm?
Your thumb presses down on the answer button, sliding it to the right and watching as the call duration begins to rise slowly. You move the phone up to your ear, lips parting to speak but not getting any words out before the person on the other line goes first, "Why aren't you home, Y/N?"
It almost feels like your heart stops once you hear those words. You take a deep breath, trying to find an excuse. Maybe it was a fan who just... possibly happened to guess your number? Fuck.
"You got the wrong number, sir." You mutter nervously, but as you hear a chuckle on the other line, it finally sinks in. How could you forget?
"Dont'cha think I'd remember your number after all these calls, sweetheart?" He says, his tone playful. You hated how he was always able to play with you, "Now, answer my question, Y/N. Why. Aren't. You. Home?"
You let out a shaky breath as you stand up, head turning to look at your surroundings as you move to the backdoor of the building, "How do you I'm not?"
The man just scoffs, and you flinch at the loud shatter of glass you hear from the other side of the phone. His tone is more stern this time, almost growling into your ear, "Because I'm at your fuckin' house. Don't play these games, Y/N, you know better.
"Stop calling me!" You retort, breath catching in your throat as you realize the door had locked behind you when you came outside, "Shit." You whisper.
"Block my number." He replies quickly, giggling as he hears your frustrated sigh, "Awh, wait—You can't. 'M'Just gonna change my number, maybe get a new phone...?" He trails off.
You can practically hear the stupid, cocky smile on his face even through the phone, and it makes you wanna throw the device onto the hard pavement beneath your feet, "Fuck off."
As you move the phone away from your ear and hover your thumb over the bright red button to end the call, you hear a loud, booming voice scream at you from the other line, "DON'T HANG UP, Y/N."
Shivers are sent down your spine at his authority, but you still disobey him. You swiftly end the call and then quickly run towards the alley that leads to the front. No thoughts run through your mind except him. Where was he? Your house wasn't that far. Was he here?
As you turn to round the corner towards the front, you feel a pair of hands grab at your waist and roughly pull you down onto their body. You both fall backward, his body acting as a pillow and lessening the impact of your fall.
Before you can scream, his slaps a hand over your mouth, his other hand on your waist in an attempt to get you to stop squirming, "Don't wanna hurt you, mamas, just—Fuck—Close those pretty lips for me."
You only continue to struggle against him, punching all over his body to try and get him to let you go. He doesn't, and it's only when you turn your head that you can see his face. His eyes are wild, and his lips are full, parted so as to let out heavy breaths.
"Hey, you."
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imwetforyourmom · 14 hours
Text
GLISTENING UNDER THE STARS.
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CW: Breaking up, mutually(?) wanted breaking up, sex for the last time, softdom!chris, romantic sex?, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (pleaseeee dont do this), crying during sex but we all know why 🫤, oral f!recieving, not much dirty talk, not really meant to make you horny but if it works ig it works!!
SUMMARY: You and Chris dont workout as good as you’d hoped for, and thats okay. But, just one last goodbye kiss, one for the road.
A/N: Drowning in a bath of my own tears
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"Can- could we spend, y’know.. one last night together?"
His unrelenting gaze laid upon you, it held the same similarity as a cold hand had rested on your shoulder, the frigid temperature seeping through the cotton of your shirt. The palm rubbing into your shoulder, in a comforting, assuring rub, as if to remind you, ‘you’re okay.’ Even when everything wasn’t okay. Like the world had come crashing, burning down before your very own eyes, the cause your very own hands - maybe even tongue in this situation.
What were you to do in this moment? The pure look in his eyes was enough to make you sick with guilt. How were you expected to speak, when the ball in your throat began to shape into a fist? The sick with you-don't-know-what being your most prime feeling, as if it was tearing your body apart, slitting it in half and moving to wriggle inside, replacing the blood coursing through your veins with that feeling. Changing the thrum of your heartbeat against your ribs to constantly remind you of the illness you felt. Each pump a sick, cruel manner as to give that dreaded reminder above your head, that this was all entirely your fault. Everything you felt was of your doing. What did you do?
The fist in your throat began relaxing, instead now clawing its way up your throat, reaching to the base of your tongue, where a sob slipped through. Why were you crying? You’re the one who’d suggested it, told him straight to his face.
“Chris, this isnt working out.” No sympathy lingering in the undertones of your voice, not even a spared, merciful glance towards his now shattered demeanor before speaking again,
“And I know you think the same Chris. Its so painfully obvious, you’re constantly out with your friends, never at home with me. You almost never speak to me enthusiastically,” you trailed off. Your sentence finishing off with a sigh, your head tilted upwards to meet his gaze. What you saw was no less than what you’d expected, but what you hadn't looked past, was the fact Chris had redeemed himself almost everytime after one of your listed incovencies, after hanging out with his friends all day, he’d always have brought you more than one gift back, and spent the night with you for as long as you wanted (or needed).
But, because the boy was so helplessly inlove with you, he’d agreed. Wanting you the best, completely leaving his own feelings in the trail of your footsteps. He’d told you he wasn't doing well in the relationship either, that he couldn't find contentment - or whatever bullshit excuse he could think of. But, what he didn't say, was how sick he felt whenever he thought of you anytime, his body full to the brim with love, and the butterflies flapping inside his stomach. He’d be happy, as long as you were happy. Whatever it takes, he’d told himself.
You felt his eyes heavy upon you, his lips twitching in a beg to twist his words together, ask for a simple favor, or, task in your hands.
“Can- could we spend, y’know.. one last night together?” He whispered, his voice only a crack away from collapsing entirely ontop of himself. His tears only relying to stay put on the dam he’d built inside his mind, his voice keeping what it could, together.
Your heart dulled in acceptance, the sick feeling running throughout your veins falling to a stop. If it’d help him relax throughout his unspoken words, then so be it.
You nodded, making no effort to form your lips to speak, instead you only stood from the bed, now holding all of your previous guilt. Your hand traveled to his body, running it gently along his chest to the nape of his neck, where you gently wrapped your fingers to twist the waved, shorter hair. Your eyes holding significant love inside them, Chris ignored it. You didnt love him.
His hands begin their journey to the rightful place on your body, wrapping his own palms on your waist, gently. His hands holding a silent, subtle passion behind them, like hands that have longed for their lover, they’ve waited for forever to rest upon this one person. You basked in it, enjoying it for the last time you probably ever would. Whose to tell the future?
You gently pulled his face closer to yours, interlocking your lips in a quiet, loving kiss. No movement being made, or even an effort to be made, just a simple, slow, loving kiss. All you’d need for now, there was no reason to bring it any further, to rush this already treasuring moment, what better than to just, slow down and let it go as it goes?
Your lips were the first to make a move, finally kissing with more passion, it felt right. It felt as if the moment had desired this, this was the way it was meant to go. Your hand gently squeezed as your lips grew along his with more passion, his tongue sliding inside the enclosure of your mouth.
His own hands slid further down your body, his fingertips tracing across till they found the desired plush of your ass. While his other hand held a hold on your lower back, pulling you closer into his embrace, closer to him.
With a slow begin, Chris guided your body to the bed behind you, the hand on your back serving as a quiet reminder that he’d catch you if you’d fallen. Your back met with the soft plush of your comforter, your back painfully easing, causing a soft moan to slip, which only served to intensify Chris’ desire, but he showed no movement to act on it.
Sliding his hand from underneath you, his hand rested on the cotton plush beside your head, while his other went to your hip, digging the tip of his finger through the fabric just enough to feel his caress teasing as it went further, and further down. Eventually falling to a stop once it’d connected to your inner thigh, mere inches away from your heat.
A soft, palpable whine of need escaped your throat, you reached down to grab his wrist, urge him to get closer, to fulfill your desires without a word spoken, but he stopped you. Shaking his head softly as he leant up to connect your lips in a soft kiss, his hands attached to the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them down in an act to expand the moment, let it linger longer.
His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties as well, bringing them along with your pants as he tugged them down, closer to fully off with each sound of your lips in the otherwise quiet atmosphere.
Eventually tugging them down your ankles, he de-attached almost immediately, the eagerness underlying his now quicker movements to move between your legs, his hands now moving to your inner thighs again, where he’d spread them wider. His eyes glued to your sex, watching as your wetness dripped to the blanket below you. His tongue licked over his teeth, his fingertips digging into the plush of your thighs.
“Y’look so pretty,” all f’me he murmured, swallowing down the words he wanted to say, all laced with possessiveness. With the guilt he felt pooling inside his stomach, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to your clit at his own attempt at distracting himself from the overwhelming thought of you no longer being his.
A moan slid from the capture of your throat, already in a prep for bliss. God, you were gonna miss this, miss him- him and his, tongue..? That's what you wanted to tell yourself.
His grasped hands around your thighs squeezed tighter, already finding himself entranced within your heat. His tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves, sucking before sticking his tongue out to trail down to your opening, sliding his tongue into the hole, and back out, creating a rhythmic pace.
His tongue kept up with the pace, his eyes peering into yours as he watched you slowly begin to become out of it, your moans falling even smoother from your lips than before. Not a thought behind your eyes, only the way you felt. His tongue curled into what your face contorted into when he brought you pleasure, yet he’d rather have your body curled into his as he brought you the warmth he seeked. Pleasuring your body with the simple affection of a kiss to your cheek.
Your hips bucked into his face, nudging his nose to your clit in the process, spiking pleasure throughout your veins, the ache for more surging blended within. Your stomach seeped till it fell through an endless pit, either mixing with the underlying guilt, or the start of an orgasm. You weren’t sure.
His hands gripped around your thighs, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers and palms. His tongue moving in desperate acts of more, more, more and more. Perchance more of the unrequited love he wanted to be requited, but that wasn't fitting.
His tongue departed as his hand slid from your thigh, his thumb tracing tight circles on your clit as his ring and index finger slid inside your entrance, quickening his previous pace, sliding deeper against your soft walls, the pleasure ricocheting onto you.
His lips meshed with yours, your lingering taste slipping inside your mouth and dawning onto your taste buds. Yet the pleasure from your legs was bundling your head far too much to care for the luscious taste coating your mouth.
The previous knot — or, ‘endless pit’ fell snapped, a moan sliding off your tongue and whispered into Chris’ mouth, swallowing what was left of the efforted moan, yet it only bounced off the walls of only being needed of one thing.
His fingers retracted from your legs and moved to the buckle of his belt, retrieving it from its locked position, and sliding his throbbing dick from the tight enclosure of fabric. He continued the motions of pulling off his pants and boxers, his movements yearning, yet a coat of desperation blinded longing, leaving the yearning to be of what it was, yet tiny and unnoticable.
His lips never disattached from yours, even when he slid his length inside your entrance, but a striking, pleasurable pain overtook his lip once your teeth had bitten onto it at an attempt to soothe yourself, probably stabilization but all Chris could focus on was the squeeze of your walls bringing the pleasure he so badly seeked earlier. His cock almost begging with the leaking pre-cum.
With one last kiss, bathing in the warmth of your lips, he’d pulled away. His hands grabbing at your hips, groping at the flesh of your stomach, caressing the skin of your ribs as well as the skin below your boobs. His fingertips dancing along the skin left for his eyes, left for the moon to shine onto, casting an ethereal spell on your skin to reflect, let Chris deliver the satisfaction of being inevitably perfect.
His hips moved along with the rhythm of your moans, moving deeper whilst your moans grew louder and harder as your moans strained in the journey of your scratchy, used throat. Your eyes bathing in the tears of your pleasure. The sway of his hips meeting with yours urging the tears to produce, lay this last drop of mercy.
Despite the ache of how hard & deep he went, his movements were soft, cherishing in the bath of your body kneeling to his actions, taking in what it could get and giving back the pleasure he proclaimed. He wanted to soak in the soft hum of the tiny whimpers that failed to succeed from slipping your throat, he wanted to dry your tears with his lips - even if they weren’t from mental or physical pain. He wanted to be able to let the praises slide from his lips as easily as they used to, let each word bathe inside a pool of his possessiveness, reminding your conscious of just whom you’d ‘belonged’ to.
He wanted this one last given opportunity to be by your side, linger in the warmth of your being and skin to be memorable, not any other time you’d have sex, just, lacking the speech.
Your hand slithered to his bicep, squeezing hard, digging a crescent moon shape of your nails into his skin, your eyes closing as the returning feeling of an endless pit formed into your stomach. Perchance this time it wasn’t because of your orgasm. You could see the glint in Chris’ eyes, neither irises carrying a wash of lust inside them, rather, only a form of yearn and— longing. He longed and longed, for what you didn't know.
He was touching you, staring at you, embracing you, inside you for fucks sakes. What more did the man want? What more could a man ask for? Your body laid vulnerable in front of him, your flaws for his eyes, your insecurities lie for his hands to caress, yet he had done neither. Not a whisper of a praise sliding from his pretty pink lips.
Your hand slid to the nape of his neck, running your fingertips up his head, gripping at the loose curls, you pulled his face closer to yours, your lips a breath away from his.
You opened your eyes, meeting his in a long, tension full eye contact. Your face churned in pleasure when he thrusted especially hard in that moment, his cock slamming inside you, as his gaze didn't falter. A cocky smirk laid over his features, clearly enjoying the sight of you, the sounds you were making. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze unrelenting, his lips moved to form the letters he was yet to pronounce.
His previous yearn drowned in his now lust filled irises, a grunt slipping past his lips before he muttered possessively, “C’mon pretty, be a little louder for me baby. Wanna hear your moans and whimpers.” His thrusts slowed with each word his spoke, a seemingly threat.
“Fuck Chris, please don’t slow down, faster, please.” You’d begged, your knees curling into your chest as the feel of his cock drove into your insides, ridding any of the guilt that remained.
Low and behold, the mustered strength provided to your lustful needs was rooted from the tightening in his throat and burning eyes. Each thrust was a way to take his mind off of what was to come after this, each syllable said was a beg of the peace he desired for such an intimate moment. He wanted, he so badly wanted to want to fuck into you, whisper his possesive lacen words into your neck, his re occuring hands keeping your under him as you pleaded for him. Yet, he just couldn't.
Instead, your body lie before him, the window allowing the moon to assure you as the most beautiful thing he’d ever lain his eyes on, sweat dripping down the creases of your body, a mesmerized expression etched on your face, you glistening under the stars as a guiltiful apology sat on the shine coating your body from the moon. Reflected onto your body as it slightly shook with the forces of his thrusts. Each sparkle dancing on your skin a haunting taunt for the body he no longer could love and adore. Only to watch as memories and need for more relentlessly took over his mind.
2578 words.
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