#chris fluff

[hannahsturniolo]

sᴛʀɪᴘ ғᴏʀᴛɴɪᴛᴇ

Warnings: smut, p in v, stripping, riding, kissing

Summary: chris asks if you want to play strip Fortnite with him.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You walked into your shared bedroom after getting back from brunch with the girls, and there was Chris, completely locked in, playing Fortnite. You smiled to yourself and snuck up behind him, placing your hands gently on his shoulders. He jumped, startled, and then laughed. “You scared me, baby,” he said with a grin. You giggled as he set the controller down and spun his gaming chair around to face you. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a big, warm hug. “Did you have fun, sweetheart?” he asked softly. You nodded, a small smile on your lips, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against his.

His hands slid around you, grabbing a firm handful of your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “Baby!” you laughed breathlessly, playfully swatting at him as he grinned up at you. You leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, deeper, until the kiss grew heated, almost desperate. As you shifted in his lap, you could feel just how hard he was beneath you, and it only made you press in closer.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your eyes locking with his. There was a spark in his, dark, playful, hungry.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, voice low, full of suggestion. “What if we play strip Fortnite? Every time I get a kill, you take something off.”

You laughed, cheeks flushed, heart racing. “Oh, you’re so on.”

You climbed off him slowly, teasingly, and dragged a chair beside his. He restarted the game with a smirk, and you could already feel the tension buzzing between you both, like you both knew this game wasn’t going to stay innocent for long.

The game started, and you were already buzzing with excitement. You were sitting there in your black crop top, black leggings, and cozy slippers, comfortable, but ready. You and Chris had been together for two years, and though your chemistry was always strong, you loved finding new ways to keep things exciting. This idea? Total genius. You were honestly glad he came up with it.

Chris jumped into the match, fully focused, and barely a minute in, he snagged his first kill.

“Let’s go,” he smirked, clearly already in competitive mode. He wanted this to escalate. You could tell. He wanted to win, and he wanted to see you naked by the end of it.

With a playful smirk of your own, you leaned down and slid off your slippers.

Chris glanced over and scoffed. “Your slippers? Really?” he laughed. “That’s weak.”

You grinned and shrugged, teasing, “Better get more kills then.”

His eyes narrowed playfully, jaw tightening in that way you loved. “Oh, don’t worry. I plan on it.”

Chris landed his next kill almost instantly, barely giving you a second to catch your breath.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, playing it up. “I guess it’s time for the leggings.”

You stood and peeled them off slowly, dragging the fabric down with teasing slowness until your black lacy thong was on full display. You sat back down, shooting him a smug little look.

Chris glanced over, his eyes darkening as they looked over you. “You’re gorgeous, baby,” he said, voice low, full of want.

His hand slid over to your thigh, fingers tracing your skin, and in that split second, he got killed.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned. “I got distracted. That shouldn’t count.”

You bent over dramatically, reaching for your leggings on the floor. “Want a redo?” you teased.

“Baby..”he gave you a half serious glare, clearly loving every second.

You tossed your leggings back down and grinned. “Okay, fine. I’ll let that one slide.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied, and lifted his hand off your thigh to refocus. You could still feel the warmth of his touch as he loaded into the next round, and you knew he was only getting more determined.

Chris dropped into the next round and immediately snagged a kill, didn’t even give you a second to breathe.

“You really want this, don’t you?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you stood.

He just nodded, eyes locked on the screen, jaw tight with focus.

You slipped your crop top off slowly, revealing the matching bra that hugged you perfectly. Now down to just your bra and underwear, you decided to turn the game up a notch.

You walked over and slid onto his lap, facing the screen with him, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck.

“Baby, ” he groaned, already squirming a little under you. “Don’t do this to me, you know you’re gonna get me killed again.”

You grinned, leaning back slightly before reaching down to rub him through his pants, feeling how hard he already was.

He let out a breathy laugh, his hands tightening around the controller as he tried to focus.

Another kill.

“Seriously?” you said with a smirk. “Okay, your reward, bra or underwear first?”

Chris didn’t even hesitate, his voice low and rough against your ear. “Bra.”

You bit your lip, pretending to consider it, already loving how turned on he was, and how much fun it was watching him try to stay in control.

You slowly slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders, teasing him with every movement. He was already on edge, practically squirming in his seat. Unable to take it anymore, he reached over and helped you unhook it, letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes were locked on the screen, fingers gripping the controller, trying so hard to land another kill, knowing that if he did, your underwear would be next. You bit your lip, secretly hoping he’d pull it off. There were still 12 people left in the lobby.

He landed the kill, 9 players left in the lobby, but he didn’t care. The second it happened, he tossed his controller aside without a second thought. His focus was entirely on you now. In one smooth motion, he stood up and scooped you into his arms, laying you gently on the bed.

“I’m gonna help you with these, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of need as he slid your underwear down slowly, savoring the moment. With one hand, he tugged his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor next to your clothes.

Your head rested against the pillow, heart pounding, and the only sound filling the room was the quiet rasp of his zipper sliding down. A beat later, he stepped out of his boxers, crawling up the bed toward you. He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your neck before pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss, his body pressing against yours with heated urgency.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving warm, open mouthed kisses that sent shivers through your body. His hand slid between your thighs, gently parting them just enough to touch you where you needed him most.

His fingers found your clit, and he began to move in slow, teasing circles, each motion deliberate and unhurried. Soft moans escaped your lips, barely audible but full of want.

Chris adored those quiet, breathy sounds you made, they drove him wild. Knowing he was the one making you feel that good only turned him on more. It was like fuel for his desire, and he wanted to give you even more.

You were squirming beneath Chris’s touch, your body reacting to every movement of his fingers. Then, without a word, he slipped two fingers inside you, filling you slow. He set a steady rhythm, pumping in and out while his thumb returned to your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make you melt.

He watched you closely the way your face twisted with pleasure, the way your breaths came quicker, your body responding so beautifully to his touch. He loved every second of it.

And then he felt it. the way you clenched around his fingers, your body tightening as you neared your release. He knew you were close. With a wicked smirk, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you trembling and wanting more.

“No, baby,” he whispered, voice thick with need. “I don’t want you to cum on my fingers. I want you to cum on my dick.”

With that, he pulled back and laid against the pillow, his eyes locked on you as he guided you to straddle him. You climbed on top, your knees on either side of his hips, his large hands gripping your waist firmly like he couldn’t get enough of you.

You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a deep, needy kiss, your body pressing against his as your lips moved together hungrily. Then, reaching behind you, you wrapped your hand around him, guiding him to your entrance, your breath catching as you positioned yourself just right.

You slowly sank down onto him, taking your time, both of you letting out a deep moan as he filled you. The stretch, the connection. it was perfect. You sat up, planting your hands on his chest as you began to move, bouncing on him in a steady rhythm.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he groaned, his voice low and breathless. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, helping you move just the way he liked, the way he knew you loved.

Then he sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist as his mouth found your nipple, sucking gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin. The sensation sent a rush of pleasure through you, your head falling back as a moan escaped your lips.

“Ugh, this feels so good,” you gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”

Your legs and body were starting to ache, the pleasure building too fast to keep up with. That tight, familiar coil in your belly was winding tighter and tighter. “I’m close, Chris,” you breathed out, voice trembling. You kept bouncing on him, chasing the high, but he saw the strain in your body, the way you were pushing through the soreness.

He gently pulled you down, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, holding you still as he took over, thrusting up into you from underneath, hard and fast.

You gasped, then cried out, the pressure overwhelming, your breath coming in desperate pants.

“I’m close too, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough with need.

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, stealing your breath as you felt his warm release fill you. The sound of your moans tangled together, shared in each other’s ears, only intensifying the pleasure. He held you close, thrusting through both of your highs, drawing out every last drop of bliss.

When it finally settled, he stayed still for a moment, catching his breath with you. His fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns across your back. “You did amazing for me, baby,” he whispered, voice low and full of adoration.

You slowly pulled off of him, settling beside him with a soft sigh. He stood and disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm washcloth to gently clean you up. Then he slid back into bed and pulled you tight against his chest, your bodies still warm, your breathing still heavy and uneven.

“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear.

You giggled softly, your face tucked into his chest. He laughed too, brushing his fingers through your hair. “We seriously need to play strip Fortnite more often,” he said, smirking. “The build up is insane.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Taglist❤︎:

@courta13 @riggysworld @heartsonlyforchris @mattssidepiece @matthewsangel @whore4chris @mattsturniolofuckingsexy @sturkneeohloww @leila-marie4 @sturniolo-szn2 @tezzzzzzzz @fictionalboysstuff @sturnixblogger @vall67 @chrissbxby @sturniolobananas1 @sophand4n4 @stvvrn1olo @xxxxxxlovesstuff @mattspillowprincess @moond0llie @emely9274 @briizysturn @sturniolooluvv @kenziesturniolo54 @d0llworld @kalel2005 @yourfavejules @rheaasturn @babyt0matoes @chrissbabymumma @bambixz

[viviansturns]

𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒘 𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓

… dealer!chris x buyer!reader. you hook up with a dealer while both in jail

cw: jail, walking in while in shower, p in v, sex?

!warning, this is highly unrealistic. purely for entertainment!

day 3 - one year anniversary special masterlist

The first time Chris saw her, she was cuffed and bleeding from the lip, refusing to sit down even as two guards barked in her face. He watched from behind the glass of the holding tank, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The room pulsed with the usual low buzz of defeat, but she—she stood out like a fuse still lit.

Rumor was she got picked up during a raid—wrong house, wrong time, wrong backpack on her shoulders. “Possession with intent,” they called it. Everyone had their own theory. Chris didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. He recognized the look in her eyes. Not fear, nor regret.

They ended up in the same block two days later. Same cell tier, same shitty routine. They didn't talk much—a bit about why they were in, but that was it. Just shared those lingering, loaded glances that lasted too long to mean nothing and too little to be anything yet.

Chris had his own rep. He was known—sharp hands, sharp tongue, no patience for anyone’s bullshit. He moved weight for someone big on the outside, and they all knew he wasn’t just some street-corner kid slinging dime bags. You didn’t mess with him unless you had a death wish.

But her? She didn’t flinch. Didn’t try to impress him, either. She just was, and that made her more dangerous than half the guys locked up with them.

Still, nothing had happened.

Until tonight.

The showers were supposed to be empty after lights out. That’s what made it the best time—when the guards stopped caring and the cameras “glitched.” Everyone knew the deal. You wanted privacy, you paid for it.

She hadn’t paid. And yet she was there, steam curling up her bare arms, eyes closed under the spray like the world didn’t exist outside that exact moment. He stepped into the tiled block before thinking twice.

Maybe he was tired of thinking.

Maybe he was tired of pretending he didn’t look at her like a problem he wanted to solve with his hands.

She didn’t flinch when he walked in. Just opened her eyes slow, like she knew it was him before she turned.

“You’re not scheduled,” she said, voice low, steady, amused.

“Neither are you,” he said back.

She tilted her head, blinking water from her lashes. “Guess we’re both breaking rules tonight.”

He stepped closer, jaw tight, heart ticking in his chest like a countdown. “You always shower in the dark?”

“You always follow girls into the shower?”

“I don’t follow anyone.”

Her eyes met his. Unblinking. “Good. I don’t like followers.”

Another step. The tile was cold beneath his feet, but the air was thick—hot from the steam and whatever coiled between them.

“You know they talk about you,” she said.

Chris’s mouth twitched. “They talk about you more.”

“I’m not the one they think I am.”

“You neither.”

That silenced them both for a second—because it was true. They both had stories scribbled in crooked handwriting on police reports, but none of them knew the real shit. Not the desperation. Not the mistakes. Not the choices that felt like the only way out when your back was already against the wall.

The steam clung to her skin. His throat felt dry.

She leaned against the slick tile, chin lifted just a little. Testing him. Teasing. Daring.

“What do you want, Chris?”

His name in her mouth sounded like a challenge. Like a line she’d just drawn, daring him to step over.

He stepped.

“You,” he said simply.

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile.

Just said, “Then come take me.”

“You sure?” he mutters, but his voice is already hoarse like he knows the answer.

She nods once—sharp, firm.

That’s all he needs.

His lips crash into hers, hard and hungry, all teeth and tension and the days they’ve spent pretending this wasn’t inevitable. She tastes like salt and steel and defiance. Her fingers twist in the front of his shirt, yanking him closer, and his body slots against hers like it’s been waiting to do this since the moment they locked eyes through holding cell glass.

He deepens the kiss, teeth scraping her bottom lip, tongue sliding past as she parts for him. It's messy, frantic, and so damn hot it borders on dangerous. The sound she makes—choked and quiet—punches straight through his control.

His hands slide down, fingers dragging across slick, heated skin until they find her hips. She gasps when he grips them tight, lifting her just enough to pin her higher against the wall. Her legs wrap around his waist without hesitation, heel digging into the back of his thigh.

“Fuck,” he breathes against her neck, voice all gravel and restraint fraying by the second.

“You talk too much,” she mutters, but she’s breathless too, nails raking down his shoulders as he rocks his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he is through his boxers.

Her head drops back against the tile with a soft thunk, eyes fluttering shut. The sound of water hitting the floor mixes with the slick slide of skin against skin, with the softest moans she’s trying not to let out.

He grins into her neck, smug and a little vicious. “Gonna keep quiet, sweetheart?”

Her reply is a sharp bite to his shoulder.

And then he’s dragging his mouth down her throat, over the curve of her collarbone, down farther—licking, tasting, biting as she squirms in his grip. 

His fingers dip between her legs, sliding through slick heat, and he curses under his breath—low and rough, like it knocks the air out of him.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.”

She huffs a breathless laugh, but her voice shakes when she says, “No shit, genius. You gonna do something about it?”

And he does.

Two fingers sink into her, slow at first, testing. She’s hot, tight, walls clenching around him almost instantly. Her head drops back again, a soft moan escaping her lips as he curls his fingers just right.

“Oh my—”

He swallows the rest with a kiss, filthy and deep, his thumb sliding up to circle her clit, slow and steady. Her hips jerk in response, grinding down against his hand like she’s starving for it. Every movement drags a new sound from her throat, and Chris drinks them in like water after a drought.

“Been thinkin’ about this,” he mutters against her jaw, pace quickening. “Since the day you walked in. You have no fuckin’ idea.”

She moans again, louder this time, nails digging into his shoulders, legs tightening around his waist.

“You’re not the only one,” she breathes out. “Been dreaming about this. About you—”

That shatters him.

He pulls back just long enough to yank his boxers down, cock springing free, already leaking. She looks down, eyes dark and wanting, and then back up at him with a smirk that’s pure sin.

“Don’t tease,” she says, wrapping a hand around him, stroking once, twice, making his whole body stutter. “You’ll break.”

He growls, grabbing her wrist and slamming her back against the wall again, a little harder this time. “You like it rough, huh?”

She grins. “I like it real.”

And that’s all it takes.

He lines himself up, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, and then pushes in with one slow, unforgiving thrust. She gasps—loud and raw—and her hands fly to his back, gripping like she’s anchoring herself.

He groans, deep and wrecked. “Shit, you feel—fuck—you feel perfect.”

He doesn’t start pounding into her right away. He savors it. Pulls out slow, almost all the way, then pushes back in deeper than before. Her hands claw at his back, and he watches her face, eyes locked on the way her mouth falls open.

“You feel that?” he grits out, voice tight. “Every inch?”

She nods frantically, trying to roll her hips, but he pins her tighter to the tile.

“Nuh-uh. You wanted it? You’re gonna take it.”

And she does.

He builds the pace slowly, hips rolling with purpose, grinding against her with every thrust. The angle’s punishing, perfect—she’s gasping into his neck now, teeth sinking into his skin just to muffle the sounds.

Then out of nowhere, he changes up the pace. Hard, deep, and fast.

The slap of skin on skin echoes in the shower, water running down their bodies as he fucks her against the tile wall like he’s been dying to do it for years. Every thrust pulls a sound from her that’s downright obscene—whimpers, moans, his name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

Her thighs tremble around him, back arching off the wall as he hits that spot over and over.

He cups her face, fingers sliding through the wet strands of her hair, holding her steady while his hips drive into her with raw need. The way she clings to him, the way her body responds so desperately, twists something inside him.

“Fuck, you so good,” he groans, voice rough and low.

She gasps, pressing a shaky kiss to his jaw.

The rhythm shifts, becoming more urgent, more desperate, like they’re trying to squeeze every last second out of this stolen moment. His thumb slides down, tracing lazy circles over her hip before darting between them again, seeking the spot that makes her shatter.

Then, with a wicked grin, he suddenly slides a finger inside her mouth. She barely has time to blink before he presses it deep, dragging it slowly across her tongue, commanding her to suck. She moans out loud, then does as he says.

Her eyes flutter shut for a second, and when they open again, they roll back to the very edge of her control as she clenches fiercely around him.

He groans loudly and smirks. “You like that huh?”

“I’m—Chris, I’m—”

He doesn’t let up. Just reaches between them again, thumb finding her clit, rubbing tight circles until she’s unraveling in his arms, choking on a moan as her orgasm hits like a tidal wave.

He fucks her through it, not stopping until he’s right there with her, hips stuttering, face buried in her neck as he groans her name and spills inside her, heat flooding between them.

For a second, neither of them move.

Just the sound of the water. Just the sound of their breathing.

Then, softly, she mutters, “Well, damn.”

Chris laughs, exhausted. “Yeah. Damn.”

logically this is the most stupid thing ive every written. idek man. uhhh i want chris' babies? idk. also do we fw the new banner?? pls tell me guys i need to be cool

𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆

comment 2 be added 2 taglist

[httpssturns]

⋆.˚ desperate ⋆.˚

☼ linked!chris x free!spirited!reader ☼

cw: dove is drunk at a party, and chris ends up having to pick her up. wc: 1k au masterlist ○ main masterlist

“fuck.” Chris exclaims, raking his fingers through his hair roughly. He knew Dove was going to some sort of party, he picked up that much when he saw her leave with those wine red lips and skimpy dress. He figured that she was just going out with her girls, like girls do, he hoped that’s what she was doing anyway.

But he hasn't been able to get a hold of her for hours. All of his calls have been going to voicemail, none of his messages read.

At times like this, he wished she wasn't so fucking stuborn. If only she just shared her location, but he doesn't even bother to ask, knowing she’ll probably say something about it being “strange” of him and accusing him of not “trusting” her.

All he could do is pace back and forth nervously, praying for any sign that she was at least okay. It was often like this, Dove left him alone quite frequently—with absolutely know idea where she is—to go off and do whatever she wanted. She had never been the type to sit still, and if she wanted to do something, she would do it without hesitation.

The noise that cut him out of his racing thoughts was the buzz of his phone. Chris fumbled to grab it, borderline desperate just to reach the device, which caused it to slip out of his grasp. Just as he finally got a hold of his phone, it stopped ringing—a voicemail in place of her voice in real time.

Voicmails:

Dove 💕 6.21

Heyy Chrissy.. uhh I think I need you to pick me up..? I can't find my friends anymore and I don't think I have a ride..when I see you I'm gonna kiss you, ‘kay? Hurry please, I'm hungry. I'm at the bar close by.. near the apartments..? I don't know. That's what someone said. End of voicemail

Chris listens to the voicemail, his sighs only growing deeper. How long is she going to do this to herself—to him? He damn near had a panic attack just waiting to here from her once.

As much as Chris is upset at her right now, as much as he just wants to yell at her and tell her he's done, he still gets into the car and drives over to the bar. He knows that place all too well—he practically lives there when she disappears.

When he arrives he immediately spots her, sitting peacefully on the curb next to the bar. And as soon as he gets out of the car, she shoots up, running over to him.

“Chrissy!” Dove exclaims, a wide grin on her lips as she throws her arms around his neck. Her face is so close to his, and he can smell the intense amount of alcohol on her breath.

Chris only scoffs softly, obviously not in the mood for her drunken foolery. “jesus, Dove. How much have you had to drink?” he asks, his nose scrunching at the sour smell.

“uhh—” she starts, before counting up to six on her fingers.

“six? Dove, are you kidding me? No wonder you're acting like this, you're fucking wasted.” Chris scolds, grabbing her wrist and dragging her to the car.

As soon as he sees Dove's lips tremble, he lets out a deep sigh. He always manages to forget that she's an emotional drunk, and it doesn't help him stay calm when she always manages to piss him off.

“Dove, please don't cry...I'm sorry for being harsh, you know I'm just worried.” he says softly, cupping her cheek in his palm.

She sniffles softly, letting out a quiet “okay.” although it's obviously not.

Chris leans in and presses his lips to her forehead, giving her a soft kiss before resting his forehead against hers. It doesn't matter, even if she's the one stressing him out—which to be very honest, it mostly is nowadays—he can always find solace in her touch, her presence, and he hates it sometimes.

He ushers her into the car, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes at every word she says. She eventually gets the hint, and chooses to be quiet, though it's a struggle.

They arrive at her apartment, and when Chris looks in her direction, she's asleep. He sighs, and crosses over to her side to open the door and lift her out of the car to her room.

“Chrissy.. are you mad at me?” Dove mumbles quietly, her words slurring as she speaks them.

“A bit, but we can talk about it in the morning, I'm not mad at you now.” Chris replies, gently removing her dress and sliding on one of her baggy t-shirts.

“i'm sorry Chris..” She says, her words cracking softly with regret as tears well in her eyes once more.

“I’m a horrible girlfriend.. I don't even know why you’re still with me. You could be with anyone..”

“Dove, I only want you—i think that's pretty obvious by now.” Chris mutters, a bitterness that's almost undetectable in his tone. Chris has always been drawn to girls he couldn't have, the aspect of it was so alluring—but right now, he just wished she would give herself to him instead of running away.

Dove opens her arms, clearly signaling she wants him to come over there. “Dove, I can't.. I have to go.” Chris defies, he can't stay with her—not right now. He can’t do it again, he can't let her get into his heart and then shatter it. Not another night.

“please chris—please don't leave me all alone..”

Those words, soft, a little broken, claw their way into his heart, and now all he can think about is staying with her once more.

“just this night, I don't need anything else.” Dove whispers, her eyes filled with that desperate need, the expression she's unknowingly used on him several times to get her way.

“just this night..” Chris repeats, and with that—he climbs into bed with her, scooping her in his arms like it doesn't break another piece of his already damaged heart.

She nuzzles into his touch, cups his face, and kisses him softly. All Chris can taste is the alcohol—the drunkeness. She doesn't want him, her senses are just impaired enough that she needs his help.

And as she falls asleep in his arms, just like all of the other nights he wished he could just leave, just get over her, he's can only think that he hates it—he hates how much space she takes up in his heart,

He hates how much he loves her.

୨♡୧ @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers ୨♡୧

☆soph's notes: HELLO!! I'm back..kind of. sorry I low-key disappeared, I lost motivation to write for a little bit 😭 I hope you enjoy this because it's kind of ass.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @sugarraez @ribbonlovergirl @slvt4subchratt @bernardsbendystraws @oopsiedaisydeer @backwardshatnick @izzylovesmatt @viviansturns @courta13 @coquettechris @matts-wife @matts-babytomatoes @whore4chris @lilssturns @bambi-cloud9 @sturns-mermaid @mattswrinkleton @irlbcmbi @pizzapocketpocketpizza

[faithlia]

| Body Language ۶ৎ |

✰ english ins't my first language!

summary: nothing more than Chris Sturniolo saying he wants to get you pregnant!

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, kink in reproduction, dirty talk.

๋࣭⭑

When Chris finishes sucking your pussy, his chin is shiny with cum and lubrication. You look down, even though your vision is a little blurry, and shiver when Chris gives your pussy a hot slap, deliberately. You whimper at the sensitivity and he trails wet kisses up your lower abdomen; your belly, which gives you goosebumps, as his hands follow the same path as his mouth; up to the hollow of your breasts, where he insists on sucking and squeezing your wet nipples.

You moan at all the teasing, and he reaches your neck and kisses up to the corner of your mouth to say: "It's my turn now." Before you can realize it, Chris moves you like a rag doll. You're back on Chris's chest, feeling his cock poke your ass - but that changes when he pulls one of your legs up and has perfect access to your tortured pussy.

"Are you going to cum again for me, baby?" he whispers in your ear, and you shake your head urgently, turning to kiss his lips – which taste like yours. Chris returns the kiss with more heat, not caring if it's sloppy and even less when he moans into your mouth. During the hungry kiss, he moves his hand to his own cock, tilting the tip wet with pre-cum inside you. Your pussy throbs as he applies more pressure to your wet entrance, and you start to feel a familiar burning.

"Chris, wait", you say, parting your lips from his. Chris stops moving, but he's still almost inside you. "What's wrong?" he asks, worried, as he takes his hand off his cock and caresses your leg.

You sigh briefly and say: "The condom, babe", you're so close to each other and it makes you delirious.

You see, you and Chris are not officially engaged, which was a mutual decision. But with each sexual encounter between the two of you, something deep inside intensifies. Chris is very careful; he doesn't mind buying your contraceptive pill himself, and when you say that you don't need him to buy it, he reprimands you, saying that yes, you do! Among these and many other attitudes of his, like always being understanding and making you feel comfortable at the end of each casual sex, or when he comes to your house and wakes you up next to him, waking you up with kisses on your skin and permissive touches, or when he calls you by various nicknames, whether in bed or on any other occasion, made you feel totally in love with him.

Even with the medication, you and Chris had never had sex without a condom before. So, he asks: "Don't you want to do it without a condom this time, hm?" He kisses your cheek, waiting for an answer. You sigh at how good the sensation of his hot cock touching your intimacy is - even if not completely. "It's just, you know I'm paranoid about it", you reply, bringing your hand up to touch his soft hair. Chris looks at you and bites his lip. "I haven't had sex with anyone else in the last few months, just you", he ponders, dragging his hand up your thigh, down to your groin, squeezing your skin.

"I know you don't, it's just that-", your speech is interrupted when you feel his fingers pass over the lips of your pussy. Chris looks away from yours to observe the delicious mess being made. His dick is not inside, but, meticulously, he begins to drag his member along the outside of your intimacy, rubbing your clit calmly. "It's what?", Chris asks without even looking at you; he is too busy playing with your pussy. He moves his finger on your sensitive spot, loving how wet and permissive you are. "It's the other thing", you manage to say and Chris soon understands. He doesn't stop his movements against your clit, quite the opposite, it gives him the opportunity to whisper: "That's what's the problem, huh? Don't you want me to cum inside?" he asks with shining eyes at you.

"I-", you try to say but are interrupted by the pleasurable sensation that hits you when Chris rubs your clit and, simultaneously, inserts his dick between the lips of your pussy. You can't resist grinding against his cock, causing a delicious friction. "Don't you want to?" he asks once more in a melodious voice, and you don't know what to say. Chris loves to tease you.

Before you can answer, he lifts his hips a little more, but he returns his movement and threatens to let the tip enter your pussy. You moan at the sensation and, involuntarily, contract your entrance. Chris smiles when he feels what you've done. "I want to fill you so much, princess", with that, he starts to masturbate, taking your lube in his hand and spreading it over his own cock. You can't say anything else but moan like an excited slut. "Can I fuck you?" you nod, biting your lip.

Chris teases your sensitivity a little more and then forces the tip against your entrance. He goes slowly just to have the effect of having you begging him to put it in right away. He passes his other hand between your arms, squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple; You moan and fall your head back.

"So good for me, princess", he whispers in your ear, pulling the crook of your leg up with his hand. You shiver as he pushes in further and then back in, pulling his entire length out. You whimper at the absence, but soon feel full; Chris can't resist imitating your expression as he sinks inside you. He squeezes your breast and kisses your mouth as he intensifies his thrusts, even if slowly.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he says between kisses. "I'm going to be able to cum inside, aren't I?" Chris milks his cock at your entrance pleasurably and you nod at what he says, not caring about anything else. You shiver as he starts to masturbate your clit. "You want me to fill you up, huh?" he asks as he thrusts slowly. You nod and he bites his lip with his eyebrows furrowed. "You're going to let me get you pregnant, aren't you?" you gasp at the question and the way he hurries his touch on your clit. Chris has never said anything like that before, but you liked it.

You moan into his mouth at the well-timed stimulation. Chris no longer cares about being careful, he slams his cock against your entrance, hitting a place he knows well. "I'm dying to make a baby inside you, pretty girl. I want it so bad," he moans in a sly voice, letting go of your clit to hold your leg tightly. Your head is fooled by all those convincing words, making you agree with everything he says. You feel a delicious throb approaching, moving your hips against Chris's.

"I'm going to cum," you whimper in a shaky voice. Hearing you, Chris continues his movements with more determination; he also feels the exacerbated urge to cum. "Cum for me, princess", he seals your lips and when he pulls away, he leaves a string of saliva between your lips. "Fucking hot pussy. Fuck, I love fucking you", he flicks his tongue against your mouth and opens his mouth, letting out gasps. Chris can't help but feel spellbound by the sounds of skin echoing throughout the room, he embraces your movements and moans loudly when you contract your pussy, squeezing his cock so hard it hurts. The moment he thrusts deeper inside, you release, cumming on his cock so deliberately.

You look into his eyes as you let out sneaky moans with your mouth open. Chris thrusts once more, and with great pleasure, fills your entire pussy with cum. He lets out sighs just like yours and removes his cock, seeing the damage done. He smiles at you and kisses your mouth again, but it's a simple kiss and you return it with the same feeling.

He falls back onto the mattress with his head, exhausted. Chris realizes all the things he said to you, feeling embarrassed for being so loud. You settle into his chest, not caring that you're both a little sweaty. You close your eyes, feeling sleepy.

"Sorry", he says very quietly.

"For making me cum twice? Relax, you're not a horrible monster for that."

"No", he laughs. "For being so loud, and the things I said", you don't know but he blushes when he remembers what he said.

"Ah!", you exclaim. "I thought it was really hot and it even made me cum faster, don't worry", you ponder and he nods silently, kissing the top of your head.

"I know, but you wanted to do it with the condom on and-"

"It's okay. You know that if I didn't want to do it without it, I would have grabbed it myself. Chill", Chris runs his hand through your hair and comforts himself with your answer.

When both of you are silent, and you seem to be asleep, Chris thinks about something he's wanted to ask you for a while now. "I need to ask you something", he says, finding his own voice strange. You don't have the willpower to speak, you just mumble a: "hum?"

Chris is reluctant but says it anyway. "Can I be your boyfriend?" you feel his heartbeat get faster. You smile drunkenly and lift your head to seal your lips on his with your hand caressing his face. "Of course", you say and Chris smiles, feeling relieved.

๋࣭⭑

Hey! if you enjoyed, please, repost, like and share with your friends. xoxo, lia.

[phone4pills]

robot!chris is your favourite thing to have around when you’re on your period

TW — period talk, tampons, very intimate

his head lay on top of your bare skin, hand rubbing over your lower stomach. being a robot meant that he was constantly warm due to all the energy surging through him. and although that meant you’d had to deal with him overheating often, it also made for a great cramp reliever.

he hummed lowly, staring at the little freckles on your tummy, drawing constellations in his mind. you lay propped on a few pillows, tv remote in hand as you scrolled mindlessly through the boring film selection on Netflix before pausing with a huff.

“you think it’s weird… that I think this is nice?” you voice was quiet, eyes roaming over his messy head of brown curls.

“I did pull a stuck tampon out of you ten minutes ago, I can’t say for certain but compared to that, this isn’t weird at all.”

you nodded, lips pursing while your mind leapt back to the moment before.

“chris—ow! could you be any less gentle?” you hissed, holding his shoulders for support. you had to admit, he looked good between your legs like that. but it was not the time for those kind of thoughts.

he gripped your thigh, trying to get you to stand still. “wait, I think I feel the string…”

you switched off the tv. “don’t you care that I’m on my period? you were pretty far up there.” a blush formed on your face, embarrassed that you’d even ended up in that situation.

he shook his head, the end of his hair tickling you. “how else was I going to get it out of you? it’s nothing a good hand wash can’t clean.”

what would you do without your robot boy. sure he was a piece of work. literally. but when he was working, he was flawless. the more you thought about it, the less awkward it was. why would he care? he’d go above and beyond if you asked him to.

because he didn’t see it the way you did. the way anyone else would. he just wanted to be of use to you. no matter the task.

you raked your fingers through his hair, massaging to spot behind his ear where his sensor triggered. where he liked it the most. his rhythmic breaths became slower, head nuzzling further up, just under your tits.

the two of your lay there, in the dim lit bedroom. for the first time in a while, you took a deep breath and stayed there. in silence. a comfy one.

ROBOT MF CHRIS. listen ik it’s short but im getting back into the swing of things. also pls dont ask me about ‘camera off’ I’m procrastinating hard.

- ©phone4pills

[bamsblooming]

PRETTY BOY ⊹ ࣪ ˖ C.S

CONTAINS જ⁀➴ fluff! // WORD COUNT : 986 // A/N = omgmgmgm my first time posting a piece of writing here! Any constructive criticism helps!!! Proofread by @ishasturnz <3

Your eyes slowly flutter open, you wake up slowly, stirring gently. Cocooned in a half-dreamy state, as if almost slipping back out of consciousness. The soft, gentle hush of the sun's embrace illuminates the familiar room yet.. you still felt, alone? Your waist felt unusually light, vacant. The absence was initially subtle, a delicate ache of emptiness. With your frame nestled and weighed down due to soothing grasp of sleep and the blankets that smelled oh so much like him, you reluctantly withdrew your arm from the quilted haven. The tender warmth suddenly became overcome by the cool air kissing your skin and a soft shiver running through your body.

You extend your arm further, the contrast unsettling as the chill seeped into your bones. Instinctively reaching for the heat thats always been there, a light exhale leaves you as your hand brushes the vacant space beside you — where he should’ve been. With a gentle turn of your head, your eyes fall on the empty sheets, the contours of the sheets still catch your eye. His pillow slightly indented where his head should’ve been.

Your brows furrow. He was always there in the morning. Arm slung lazily over your waist, breath soft and warm on your neck. Yet this morning — nothing. Not even the light pitter-patters to hint that the shower was on. One question reeled through your still, slightly hazy mind.

“Where’d he go..?” You mutter under your breath, pushing your body upright, the shroud of blankets slipping from your shoulders and pooling around your waist as you balled hands, rubbing your eyes before you lean back on your palms. You let your still, weary gaze wander around the room as silvers of sunlight crept under the blinds.

The air felt oddly heavy, thick with a manner of stillness that flooded your chest with unease. Your eyes flicker with hope as they scan around the bed, the nightstand, even the floor. Searching for remnants of his presence. No missed calls, no note, no sign of his plans to be anywhere else. Your fingers subconsciously curl at the rumpled sheets. Chris never left the bed without saying something, so where was he?

Soon enough, your gaze swept across the familiar corners of the room before it caught on the bathroom door, left almost fully opened as it allowed silvers of light from the bedroom blinds peeking through. It took a brief moment for your hazed mind to register who the figure inside.

There he was.

His bare back faced you. The dim glow of dawn tracing the subtle curve of his spine, the delicate lines of his shoulder blades shifting with each benign breath. He had plaid pyjamas hung low on his hips, the material draped lazily and rumpled, boring the faint folds of sleep-warmed sheets. Just above the waistband, a slip of the elastic fabric of his boxers peeked through, the elastic was barely visible against the delineated dip of his waist. The previous morning chill that clung to your skin, a silent reminder of his absence beside you is overtaken, melted away in an instant. A warmth spread through you, undeniably present as it bloomed in your chest, chasing away the frigid air that settled in the atmosphere.. replacing it with something amply, something familiar.

Such a pretty boy.

The morning incandescence only proved your point, the crisp ambience of the bathroom light flooded the space where he stood. The light caught on his cheekbones, illuminating the sharp yet delicate angles of his face — the sculpted sweep of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the way his petal-soft lips parted as a breath passed through them, focus consuming him.

You marvelled at him as he ran lukewarm water over his razor, then proceeding to tap it against the edge of the sink before bringing it back to his jaw with practiced ease. The razor moved in leisurely, deliberate strokes, his fingers unwavering as he wiped away the last remnants of his stubble. A bead of water clung onto his collarbone, trailing slowly down the delicate dip of his shoulder.

As if sensing your gaze, he halted his movements, glancing up to you through the mirror. His flush lips tugged into a smile, effortlessly attractive and knowing.

“Like what ya see?” He murmured with a hint of recognition, sleep still lingering in his voice.

And holy shit, you did.

Your serene gaze mapped his jaw yet again, remnants of the shaving cream clinging to it, his windswept tresses disarrayed and askew from sleep. Subsequently, a faint pink mark just beneath his ear lured your eyes — your mark. The notion sent a fiery warmth curling through your chest. He was yours, in all the ways that resonate. For the tiniest moment, all you could do was stare, awestruck by how inherently charming he looked.

He caught your eye in the mirror yet again, his lips threatening to curl and twitch up into that tender, familiar smile. “Y’just gonna sit there all cute ‘n smile, huh?” He teased, his gruff voice containing underlying admiration.

“Can you blame me, really?” You stretched up your arms, allowing the quilt sheets ruffle as you move.

He huffed a slight, unamused laugh, the sound low and almost fond. His beautiful baby blues remained fixed on your figure through the reflection, Chris’s gaze persisted with an unspoken intensity, tracing the curve on your silhouette. It was like he was almost, savouring the way you moved. Yet, as his eyes spoke volumes, his mouth barely moved, only fragments of speech escaping him. He shook his head, rinsing his razor. “You’re ridiculous.”

A cheesy grin slowly grew on your face, as if you were itching to say something — I mean, you were. “And you’re pretty.”

Both of your gazes lock. You caught it. His cheeks flushed just marginally, barely noticeable, but, You caught it.

Your pretty boy.

ೄྀ࿐bloomers : @cunty-matt @courta13 @ishasturnz @jensturnss @luckysouls

MY OTHER WORKS :: HERE.

[obsidianbaby]

But that's what I love about you

synopsis - you always get told you're too loud and that your laugh is incredibly annoying but that's what your boyfriend chris loves about you the most

warnings/notes - NONE!! pure fluff, established relationship with chris, some pets names but like get over it ?

a/n - i loveddddd writing this request i had so much funnnn thank you sm @presleyanswrites

___________________________________

The boys are pacing around the living room getting ready to go out to film a car video and chris notices you sulking on the couch.

"hey babe are you coming with us?" Chris asks from the kitchen looking over at you. Your face buried in your phone reading through comments on the last youtube video you featured in with the triplets.

"omg she's so fucking annoying"

"dont know how chris can put up with her"

"if i had her as a gf i would want to kms"

"her laugh tho? yikes"

"they must be so sick of her fr"

"how to fix my eardrums after hearing her yap the whole video no borax no glue"

chris noticing the sad look on your face, he wonders over to the couch and takes a seat beside you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. You continue to doom scroll through the comments, not being able to take your eyes off of the public hate flooding the internet.

"babyyyyyy" chris says softly against your neck.

"hmm?" you say not taking your eyes off of the screen.

"did ya hear me?" he asks, softly brushing the hair out of your face.

"no sorry, what did you say?"

"are you gonna come film with us? want you there with us tonight." he says sweetly, wrapping his arms around you pulling you against him.

"um... no i think i'll skip this one" you say quietly.

"what? you cant!!" Nick shouts from the kitchen.

you immediatley look up at nick and matt standing in the kitchen looking over at you and chris sitting on the couch.

"no it's okay guys i think i'll just go to bed or something" putting your phone down on your lap, the screen still open.

Matt and nick nod at you and start walking towards the stairs to the garage door.

"meet ya down there chris" Matt shouts as they disappear down the stairs.

"yeah guys i'll be there in a minute" chris says back. He sits up and turns his body towards you on the couch, "what's wrong baby?" chris asks searching your face.

"nothing chris im okay, just tired." you lie, looking down at your lap where your phone sits. Chris follows your gaze and sees your phone open on your lap and he looks back at you.

"whats going on hmm?" chris asks softly, reaching his hand to lift your chin to face him and he sees the emptiness in your puffy eyes. "have you been crying baby what's wrong?" he asks rubbing his hand against your cheek.

"it's nothing dont worry about it, go and film your video chris i'll probably be in bed when you get home" you say looking into his eyes, you can see the concerned look painted across his face and it melts your heart, you feel guilty about him wasting his time here with you instead of having fun with his brothers.

"listen, you can't lie to me like that you know how well i can read you," he starts, cupping your face in his hands bringing your face closely to his and he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, "now tell me what's going on i wanna help"

you close your eyes enjoying the soft embrace of his warm hands holding your heavy head and you let out a heavy sigh trying to collect your words without breaking out in a sob.

But chris is right in the way he can read you and he instantly pulls you into him and you bury your face against his chest, your tears starting to fall.

"its okay baby im here i've got you" he says rubbing your back in soft circles, "tell me when you're ready okay? i wont force you to talk about it if you dont want to okay?"

you nod into his chest and take a few deep breaths collecting yourself before you back up to look into his eyes, "i just feel like people don't want to see me with you guys. like in your videos... I don't think they like me that much..."

Chris nods and looks towards your phone sitting in your lap, "whats going on hm? you wanna show me?"

you hesitate fumbling your phone in your hands before you sigh and hand it over to him. He takes the time to read the disgusting comments glaring from your phone screen, the same that are still swimming in your mind.

he shakes his head and closes the app, putting your phone down behind him.

"you know none of that is true, right?" he says, reaching out to wipe the silent tears now strolling down your cheeks.

"but its not just a couple comments here and there, so many people are saying the same shit. That I'm too loud, that my laugh is annoying, that i talk too much, that you guys must be fed up with me i just feel so disgusting and embarrassed."

chris's eyes sadden at your words and he sighs looking down shaking his head, "i know dating a content creator must be difficult for you baby, there's always going to be people who have nothing but negative and hurtful shit to say but they don't matter."

"but they're right chris, your fans aren't the only people who've said im too much for them, i've been told that im too much my whole life.." you say hiding your face in your hands.

Chris gently holds your hands and pulls them away from your face holding them in his as he looks into your eyes.

"yet you're here with me right now. and you know what? you're not too much, not for nick, not for matt, and especially not for me. I love you and i love how outgoing and loud you are." he says smiling sweetly at you.

"but-" you start but chris interrupts you.

"but that's what i love the most about you. I love your contagious laugh, i love the way you can freely share your thoughts and opinions without hesitation. You're perfect for me and my heart would break if you ever tried to dim your light because of jealous assholes hiding behind their screens on the internet." he says smiling at you.

you sigh, knowing your boyfriend is right. he chose you. and he's choosing to give his undivided attention to you right now to make sure you feel better and to show you how much you mean to him.

"i love you...." he says looking at you waiting for a response.

"i love you too chris. i appreciate you so much you know that." you say meeting his eyes. he presses his forehead against yours and the two of you stay like that for a moment.

he pulls away and looks at you a stupid grin on his face, "of course you love me i'm the best" and you giggle at him shaking your head.

"i wouldn't go that far..." you say teasingly and he gasps pretending to act offended making you laugh. man he always knows how to make you feel better.

Chris's phone suddenly vibrates, an incoming call from nick coming up on his screen and he looks at it and answers it quickly, "yeah nick im coming okay be down in a minute" and he hangs up pocketing his phone.

"its okay if you still want to stay home baby it's up to you but just so you know, the three of us want you there yeah?"

"i know... I think i'm still going to stay home, probably watch a movie."

"sounds good baby, i'll text you okay?" chris says pulling you into a big hug and he sprinkles a bunch of kisses all over your face.

"see you soon" you say as you watch your boyfriend get up and walk towards the stairs to the garage.

____________________________________

a/n - first fluffffffff let me know what y'all think!! sorry if you hate the pet names "baby" and "babe" i literally cannot stand y/n so i try really hard not to use it okok thank you for reading mwah!! xx

dts - @jnkvivi @bigbeefybitch @loud-sturniolos @d44rla @stuniolvs @stasiesturn @moeberry @sturniolocamper @thatssocancelled @bitchydragonparadise @crazy-people-are-here

[beaufanfics]

friend group sleepover but chris has other ideas!!

please note:: smut,fluff??,p in v (without movement),tit playing,kissing,falling asleep with p in v

im at a sleepover, everyone else is sleeping expect from me.

i tap chris on the shoulder. “heyy? are you awake” chris groans before turning over to look at you. “what do you want baby? i’m trying to sleep”. you moan before answer “i.. want- you.” you stagger out before chris looks at you with pure lust in his eyes “mhm? is that right darling” he says shifting over in his blue pjs, he moves a bit too close were you can feel his intense boner leaking through his pants before he grabs your waist pulling you closer and whispering in your ear “what do you want from me? mhmm?” he moans out waiting for a reply from you,

“i-“ you was then cut off with chris intensity kissing you, you cant say you hated it because that would be a lie you fucking loved seeing chris this way, so fucking eager for mommy, he slowly pulled back “what was that princess?” he says bugging on your pjs before pulling them down leaving you in ur lacied pants, “mhm so fucking wet for me already?” chris looked down with your pants drenched and throbbing as you clutched ur thighs together.

“nuh uh.” chris groaned cupping your legs before sliding his own pjs down and his boxers. you watched as his cock sprinned out of his pants before he lined himself up slowly entering you, you gasp from pleasure slipping out a moan by accident. “shhh” chris hummed down your neck sending shivers down your spine, feeling his hard cock fill you up inch by inch was like heaven, you could feel every vein inside of you as he got deeper you kept moaning as chris put his hand around your mouth “what did i just say princess?” chris muttered as his cock had a heartbeat of his own chris just stayed in place, it wasnt like he could move anyways with how tight you was around him.

chris pulled you in closer as he slid his hand up with curves and to your tits, you wasn’t wearing a bra which made it easier access for chris. he started teasing your nipples doing small circles around them which made your breathing stagger watching the effect it had on you he started to squish your tits. a small smirk tugged on his mouth he loved seeing you like this squirming around no self control with chris’s hand around your mouth shutting you up.

“you’re safe in my arms baby,go fall asleep” he said in his sleep voice which just made you more tight around him.he removed his hand from your mouth before playing with your hair still with the other hand on your tit. this made you have a weird comfort feelings, still with chris’s huge dick inside you,you managed to fall asleep and not short after so did chris.

do you guys want a part 2?

DISCLAIMER::THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SO MIGHT BE A BIT SHITTY. PLEASE GIVE ME RECOMMENDATIONS!!

[dylansfavwife]

soft kisses

୨ৎ chris sturniolo x fem!reader

୨ৎ summary : chris wants you to stay home with him

you hummed along to the song playing on your phone as you spread your lipgloss across your lips.

hearing your bedroom door open, you turned around seeing chris enter your room. an instant smile found it’s way to your lips as he walked up to you.

you turned back round to your vanity to finish off your makeup as chris sighed laying his head on your shoulder, his hands lightly grasping your waist.

“do you have to go?” he whined as he watched the deliberate motions of your brush against your skin. you chuckled at his complaints “i won’t be gone long” you promised as you turned your head towards him.

he pulled you in for a kiss, his soft lips against yours. you groaned in complaint as he pulled away “chris! i just did my lipgloss”

he ignored your complaint as he smiled, peppering kisses all over your face. you tried to protest “chris!” but your attempts were useless as you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.

he began to speak while continuing to litter you with kisses “stay” kiss to your cheek, “home” kiss to your nose, “with” kiss to your forehead “me” he spoke finally kissing your lips again, a soft smile present on both your faces.

[cupidszluvs]

Chris sturniolo. “ranking hugs?”

Dividers! @bernardsbendystraws

Fluff, pet names (baby, mama ect) black! Reader.

Summary: Chris Sturniolo and his girlfriend take on the viral TikTok trend where she demonstrates different types of hugs she’d give to a guy— other than him.

The video starts with you standing in front of the camera, phone in hand, while Chris sits beside you with his arms crossed, already looking salty.

"Alright, baby, we’re doing the ‘Ranking Hugs I Give to a Guy That’s not him, trend!" you announce with a cheeky grin. Chris scoffs, "Yeah, nah, I don’t like this already." You laugh and ignore him, getting into the first hug demonstration.

1️⃣ The Side Hug

You do a casual one-arm side hug in the air, imitating how you’d hug another guy.

Chris immediately shakes his head. "Nah, I don’t even like that. 0/10. Why you touching other dudes?" You roll your eyes. "Boy, calm down."

---

2️⃣ The Church Hug

You clasp your hands together and lean forward slightly, pretending to give a formal, barely-there hug. Chris nods approvingly. "Mmm, this one solid. Respectfully distant. 9/10, mama." You raise a brow. "So why not 10?"

"‘Cause I don’t even want you near another guy."

3️⃣ The Bro Hug

You do the handshake-into-a-side-pat move guys do, looking at Chris expectantly. He squints. "This… I can live with. 6/10." "Why so low?" "Cause your hand still on him for too long."

---

4️⃣ The Full Hug

You pretend to wrap your arms around someone fully for a proper hug, swaying a little for extra dramatics. Chris immediately jumps up. "Oh HELL no, babe." He fake grabs your waist. "What is THIS?!" You’re dying laughing. "It’s just a hug!"

Chris shakes his head aggressively. "Ain’t no ‘just a hug,’ mama. -1000/10. Don’t play with me."

---

5️⃣ The Quick Tap Hug

You demonstrate a brief hug with a fast double pat on the back before pulling away. Chris sighs in relief. "See, this is what I like. Real quick. 15/10." You smirk. "So I can hug guys like this?"

Chris stares at you. "Just don’t push it, babe."

Hope you enjoyed it babes!

[hannahsturniolo]

ɪɴᴛᴇʀʀᴜᴘᴛᴇᴅ

Warning: kissing, dry humping

Summary: you and Matt were having an intense make out session, when you were interrupted.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You and Matt were tangled up together under the covers, his arms wrapped around you tightly watching a movie. Your legs were intertwined, your forehead resting on his chest, you could hear his heart beating fast.

You glanced up at Matt, lifting your head off his chest.

“I love you” you said, eyes full of love.

“I love you too, baby” he gently smiled back.

You leaned up to kiss him, slow and deliberate. Your hands brushing against his jaw to cup the side of his face.

You felt his one hand fall on the small of your back, pulling you in closer. He was kissing you like he had all the time in the world.

What started as soft quickly turned into something deeper, more urgent. Your tongues dancing together. Your bodies already knew what they wanted.

Matt broke the kiss just barely, breathless, his eyes locked on yours as he peeled off his shirt throwing it to the floor.

He then had his lips trailing along your jaw and down to the curve of your neck, kissing you there with a quiet urgency. He loved watching you react to every single touch.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his mouth found that one spot on your neck, the one that always made your breath hitch.

You moved Matt away gently, then climbed up, straddling him, placing your knees on either side of him.

You began to move your hips slowly, the gentle friction sending sparks through your body, as you leaned down capturing his lips in a deep hungry kiss.

His hand grabbed the back of your neck, gripping it firmly, and the other hand clenching your hips to help you grind harder and faster.

“Fuck- Matt” you whined.

A deep husky sound rumbled through his throat against your lips.

*knock knock knock*

You both pulled away from the kiss fast, and you pulled yourself off of him, heart pounding as you heard the urgent sound of knocking at Matt’s bedroom door.

“Yes?” Matt yelled across the room.

Chris’s voice came through, firm and demanding, “open up!”

“Aw fuck, sorry baby” Matt whispered in your ear, letting out a huff as he leaned down and grabbed his shirt off the ground, throwing it over his body.

Matt walked over to the door, and opened it slowly. Chris sticks his phone in Matt’s face.

“Look what Nick just sent me” Chris said laughing, showing Matt a meme.

Matt looked very unimpressed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Taglist❤︎:

@courta13 @riggysworld @heartsonlyforchris @mattssidepiece @matthewsangel @whore4chris @mattsturniolofuckingsexy @sturkneeohloww @leila-marie4 @sturniolo-szn2 @tezzzzzzzz @fictionalboysstuff @sturnixblogger @vall67 @chrissbxby @sturniolobananas1 @sophand4n4 @stvvrn1olo @xxxxxxlovesstuff @mattspillowprincess @moond0llie @emely9274 @briizysturn @sturniolooluvv

[viviansturns]

𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 - an asshole!matt x addicted!reader series

wc: 5.2k

cw: mentions of childhood neglect, alcohol and substance addiction, past toxic relationships, toxic and addictive tendencies, very rough sex with little aftercare, a shit ton of angst, fluff, (this is for the entire series)

*disclaimer: in no world do i think matt would ever act like this. it is an alternate universe purely for entertainment and so you can feel like your heart has been pulverized*

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆 - the ring thing

Prologue

A wisp of smoke blows past your eyes, as they follow it up into the night sky.

LA was a blur below you—cars humming down cracked streets, someone shouting two buildings over, a siren screaming into the night and then disappearing. So—loud.

The smoke burned the back of your throat in that satisfying, punishing way. You inhaled, letting the burn settle deep, chasing the rush that never lasted long enough.

Craving. Always craving.

The feeling—the thrill of being on the edge, where everything is louder, faster, sharper. Where every touch, every look, every word could knock you off balance.

It was the only thing that made you feel alive. The only thing that pushed away the numb.

And you knew—without even wanting to admit it—that this hunger was only going to grow.

Behind you—back in the room, you can hear laughs bouncing off the walls. Matt’s. A sound you rarely hear. Because you only hear it when he thinks you’re not there.

He always acted like he hated you.

You took another drag and let the smoke curl slow out of your lips.

The worst part was, you didn’t hate him back.

- - - - - -

You hadn’t expected to see Matt that morning. To be fair, you rarely did. Not because he wasn’t around—but because he made a sport of disappearing when you were near.

You were curled up on Chris’s couch, legs tucked under you, your laugh echoing off the walls as he scrolled through old photos on his phone. The sun was bleeding through the massive windows of the triplets' LA apartment, too warm, too bright. 

“…This one,” Chris said, smirking. “Don’t lie, I looked so good here.”

You rolled your eyes. “You looked so fucking high.”

He snorted. “Same thing.”

You reached for the joint between his fingers, brushing his hand lazily. He let you take it without a second thought—habitual, casual. You didn’t fuck— well— hookup anymore, but the muscle memory lingered. 

The flirty touches, the low-voiced jokes. Sometimes you felt like it’d all snap and you’d go back to friends with benefits, but it wasn’t good for you—or him.

“You still hang onto that photo?” you teased, as he scrolled to the next.

“Of course. Took that one right before the last night you ruined me.” he whistled, looking slightly reminiscent.

You gave him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up’.

“Kidding,” he said quickly, grinning. “Sorry…” you don’t notice it, but Chris' smile falters for a fraction of a second before he shakes it off and looks back at his phone.

The door creaked.

You didn’t look up at first—but you felt it. That shift. That sudden weight in the room that only ever came with him. You practically felt sparks—almost like fingerprints dancing up your spine.

Matt.

He crossed through the space behind the couch like a shadow, not saying a word. Just a glance in your direction—sharp, unreadable—and then he was gone, disappearing into the kitchen.

Your pulse jumped. He hadn’t even spoken and still, your body was reacting like it’d been touched.

Chris noticed. Of course he did.

“You two ever gonna be normal?” he asked casually, leaning back.

You stared at him. “We’ve never been anything.”

It was true—you’d never been more than friends. In fact, you wouldn't even call yourself friends with him. 

Sure, he was attractive—very—but it wasn’t just that. It was the way he got under your skin, the way you couldn’t stop chasing the rush of his sharp edges, even when you knew it was poison. 

You told yourself you needed a sweet guy—a guy like Chris—but the truth was, you couldn’t imagine yourself without the ache of someone like Matt—no matter how much he tore at you.

Chris gave a noncommittal shrug, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he knew something you didn’t.

- - - - - -

Later, when you walked into the kitchen for a drink, Matt was already there—back leaned against the counter, hoodie on, sleeves pushed up, showing his tattoos. His jaw flexed when he saw you. But still, no hello. No expression.

Just that wall.

“You avoiding me or just allergic to manners?” you asked, grabbing a bottle of water, trying to keep your voice steady even though your heart was hammering in your chest.

He didn’t look at you. “Didn’t realize I owed you anything.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’ve been acting like I’m invisible for a year. I breathe near Chris and you disappear.”

At that, he finally looked up. The sharpness in his gaze made your hands tremble slightly, a reaction you hated but couldn’t stop.

“Maybe I disappear,” he said slowly, “because I don’t need to see you slobbering all over someone I live with.”

You blinked, hurt twisting inside you, but you swallowed it down. “Excuse me?”

He took a lazy step toward you, the air between you thickening. “Don’t play dumb. You’re always on him. Touching him. Laughing like he’s the funniest guy in the world. What—you want him back?” He gave you a mocking expression.

Your stomach twisted in a way that hurt and strangely pulled you closer. You wanted to tell him to fuck off, but you also found yourself stepping closer, ignoring the warning bells screaming in your head.

“Fuck you Matt.”

Matt gave a half-shrug, half-sneer, like your words barely grazed him. He turned his back and pushed off the counter, disappearing down the hallway without another glance.

You stood there, breath uneven, the taste of bitterness lingering—but somewhere beneath that bitterness was a sharp ache, a craving for the intensity only he brought.

Chris’s voice broke the silence behind you, low and knowing: “You’re better than this, you know.”

You turned sharply toward him, glare sharp enough to cut glass. “And fuck you too, Chris.”

He blinked, genuinely confused. “What’d I do wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you started gathering your things—jacket, purse, keys—with slow, deliberate movements.

Chris stepped closer, voice softer. “Hey y/n come on… what about our movie night?”

You shot him a look full of frustration and exhaustion. “Tell Matt he ruined it.”

Without waiting for a response, you slipped past him, out the door, and into the cool LA evening—leaving the tension and tangled mess behind you, for now.

- - - - - -

Later that night, you were sitting on your bed, half-watching some show you weren’t really paying attention to, scrolling through your phone to distract yourself from the knot of anger and confusion still tight in your chest.

Your phone buzzed. You glanced down.

A message from Matt.

“Sorry.”

You stared at the screen, the single word hanging there like a challenge. After everything, it felt almost… unexpected. He’d never been the type to apologize, or really interact with you in any capacity.

You typed back, fingers hesitant but biting, “Did Chris put you up to this?”

His reply came fast. “Yeah. I mean it tho. I was just frustrated about some other shit.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Nice of you.” 

“Whatever.”

Then, almost immediately, another message: “Chris wants you to come to a bonfire.”

Your breath caught. The invitation felt like a thread pulling you back into their world — tangled, complicated, impossible to ignore.

You typed slowly, “Did he ask you to tell me that too?”

There was a pause before Matt’s answer came: “No. Just assumed he would’ve already texted you.”

You put your phone down, the screen’s glow fading into the dark. Matt hadn’t just relayed a message. Your heart was racing, and for once, you weren’t sure if it was anger, craving, or something dangerously close to hope.

You showed up just past eleven, hoodie thrown over your clothes, makeup still smudged from earlier. You weren’t even sure why you came—maybe to prove something. Maybe to feel something. Maybe just because Matt told you to.

The bonfire was tucked behind someone’s house, half the yard fenced and the other spilling into a slope of dirt and brush. The flames licked high into the dark, lighting up a half-circle of lawn chairs and overturned crates.

Someone passed you a drink the second you arrived; someone else handed you a blunt. You dumped the drink, but lit the blunt in your fingers. 

You didn’t drink at all. You had a phase in highschool— well—phase nowhere near the right word. You used to be addicted at the ripe age of 17. It got so bad that your crackhead of a mom and absent dad had noticed (which was quite the feat for them), and sent you to rehab. 

Now whenever you feel the ache for alcohol, for the burn in your throat, you fidget with your ring— a coping mechanism your therapist had taught you. As someone with “addictive tendencies” (as she liked to call it) you needed something tactile. Something small. Something grounding.

The ring was cheap, probably from a vending machine or a gas station counter. But it spun smooth under your thumb, the grooves familiar.

Without it, your fingers genuinely ached. Your chest ached. Like your body didn’t know how to be without the comfort of friction.

And tonight, it spun under your thumb in small, desperate circles.

Chris spotted you first, grin already forming. He jogged over and pulled you into a hug, warm and loose with smoke and drink. “I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he murmured against your ear. “You mad at me?”

You shook your head, even if you weren’t totally sure it was true. “A little.”

“I’ll win you back with s’mores.”

You smiled despite yourself.

Then you saw him—Matt—sitting off to the side near the fire, beer in hand, hood half up. His eyes were on you. Always on you. Not warm, not inviting, but watching like he couldn’t help it.

You sat on a log across from him, arms crossed, gaze hard.

He didn’t look away.

Chris lit a marshmallow and handed you a stick. You took it. The sugar and heat settled in your chest a little, but it didn’t dull the way Matt’s stare pressed into your skin.

Eventually, he got up. Walked over. Not close, just near enough.

“You’re still mad,” he said, voice low, just for you.

You didn’t look at him. “You’re still a fucking dick.”

He gave a sharp exhale that might’ve been a laugh. “Yeah.”

There was silence. Crackling fire. The sound of someone coughing in the distance. You didn’t move.

Then, softly, almost like it slipped out: “But I didn't mean to make you leave earlier. Chris was pretty fuckin’ pissy about it”

That got your attention. You turned your head just slightly. “Didn’t seem like it.”

He met your eyes. Steady. “Whatever. Sorry.”

You stared at him, jaw tight. “You’re not very good at this.”

“Nope.”

Another beat of silence.

“You want a drink or something?” he asked, shifting awkwardly. “There’s coke, or—whatever you drink.”

You shrugged. “Only if you pour it for me.”

He snorted. “You’re such a brat.”

But he turned and went anyway.

You watched him walk off toward the coolers like it didn’t affect you, but your stomach was coiled tight. You hated how much it got to you. Hated how you could feel the burn of him still in your chest from earlier, and yet the second he looked your way like that—heavy and cocky—you were right back under it. 

Matt came back holding a red cup and handed it to you without a word. You took it, letting your fingers graze his just to be petty. His jaw twitched, barely.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

“Mhm,” he replied, sitting back down on the log next to you but not close—like proximity was dangerous.

You took a slow sip.

The silence between you wasn’t peaceful. It was stretched thin like a wire. You wanted to poke it until it snapped.

“You always this grumpy at parties?” you asked, staring over the fire to Chris fucking around with some of his friends.

Matt scoffed, not looking at you. “Only when someone shows up thinking the whole night revolves around her.”

You turned your head, eyes narrowed. “You texted me, remember?”

He gave you a look. Blank. But something flickered behind it.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

You smirked. “Disappointed?”

“Figured you’d be too busy trying to crawl back into Chris’s lap.”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you smiled wider, sweet and venomous.

“Why, Matt? Jealous?”

Matt didn’t answer. Just clenched his jaw and took a slow drink.

You turned back to the fire, heat licking your skin. Your heart was beating too loud. You wanted to hurt him back. Wanted to crack his calm.

“Why’d you and Chris stop fucking, anyway?” he asked suddenly, tone carefully careless.

You blinked, slow, then turned to him, sarcastic. “Maybe the sex was so good we couldn’t even fit time for being friends.”

He didn’t respond, but his face shifted. Slight. Just a flicker in his eyes—tightness in his mouth. You’d landed a hit, and you knew it.

You leaned in a little, watching him over the rim of your cup. “He was fun, though,” you added softly. “Couldn’t walk straight half the time.”

Matt looked at you then. Really looked at you. No smirk, no sneer. Just heat.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice quiet and low, like he didn’t trust it.

You tilted your head, teasing. “Why? Want tips?”

He leaned forward just enough that the air between you turned dangerous.

“No,” he said, steady. “Just surprised you’re not still fucking him.”

You smiled, even though your throat felt tight.

“Think about it sometimes. But we were meant to just be friends.”

You sipped your drink again, slowly, just to have something to do with your hands. Your mouth was dry. The heat from the bonfire had nothing on the way Matt was looking at you now, like he was trying to see if you were lying. Like if he stared long enough, he’d find the truth hidden under your skin.

“You and Chris don’t act like friends,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes. “We’re comfortable.”

“Too comfortable.”

“You watching that close?”

Matt didn’t answer. His fingers tapped absently on the side of his bottle, like he was keeping a beat only he could hear.

“You think I want him?” you asked, leaning just a little closer, like you were daring him.

His eyes flicked down—lips, neck, knees tucked under your hoodie. He took too long to look back up.

“I think you’re bored,” he said. “I think you like making people squirm.”

You laughed, sharp. “God, you really think everything’s about you.”

“No,” he said, calm, too calm. “But you’re not that hard to read.”

That got under your skin. You sat back, jaw tight. “You know what’s funny, Matt? You act like you hate me, but you’re always the one staring. Always the one texting me when no one else will.”

His jaw ticked. “I don’t text you.”

You raised a brow. “You did tonight.”

He looked away then. Drank. Said nothing.

You pressed your lips together, pulse jumping. Why the hell did he have to be this hot and this aggravating at the same time? You could practically hear your common sense screaming at you to get up, walk away, breathe.

Instead, you asked, “Why’d you even invite me?”

“I didn’t invite you,” he said, and that same annoying little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I passed along a message. You decided to show up.”

.

.

You twist your ring. 

whrrr, whrrr, whrrr.

- - - - - -

The engine hummed low as you slid into the backseat, careful not to brush against Matt who was already settled in the passenger seat. Chris was behind the wheel, shooting you a warm smile through the rearview mirror.

“You ready to get out of here?” he asked softly.

You nodded, your fingers instinctively finding the cheap ring on your hand. Whrrr, whrrr, whrrr. The smooth spin was the only thing grounding you, dulling the ache that throbbed under your ribs.

Matt’s eyes caught yours in the mirror — a brief, burning glance that made your heart stutter. No words, just a silent claim.

Chris started down the quiet LA streets, the night folding around you.

“So… you hungry? Thought maybe we could grab something on the way,” Chris offered gently, his voice a soft anchor.

Matt stayed silent, jaw tight, arms folded.

You tried to focus on Chris’s steady warmth, but your gaze flicked back to Matt again and again. The tension between you was electric — the unspoken weight of his stare pressing into your skin.

Your fingers spun the ring faster, whrrr whrrr whrrr, desperate to quell the growing ache inside.

Chris glanced at you through the mirror, noticing your trembling hand. “You okay?”

You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Matt shifted in his seat, eyes never leaving you — dark, watchful, possessive. His silence screamed louder than any words could.

As the car slowed at their place, the city lights played over Matt’s hard features. You caught his gaze once more — sharp, intense — like a silent warning you couldn’t ignore.

When the car stopped, you reached for the door handle, heart still pounding.

Matt’s eyes lingered on you a second longer, full of something dangerous and aching — then he looked away, silent as ever.

Chris gave you a gentle smile. “Let’s get you inside.”

You stepped out into the cool night, the ache in your chest still spinning beneath your fingers.

The three of you were finally inside, the dull thud of the front door closing behind you swallowed by the usual LA hum outside. Chris wandered toward the kitchen, tossing a smile your way.

Matt stayed rooted near the hallway, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like you were some puzzle he couldn’t solve—and maybe didn’t want to.

You caught his gaze again, the intensity almost too much. Your fingers curled tighter around your ring, the familiar whrrr spinning soothingly under your thumb.

“Matt,” you said quietly, voice low but steady. “Can you please stop freaking me out with that stare? It’s like you think I’m about to disappear or something.”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just held your eyes like a challenge.

You let out a shaky breath and gave him a half-smile, trying to ease the tension. “Seriously, you’re making me wanna crawl under the couch. You’re constantly so tense.”

For a moment, his eyes softened — just barely — before the wall slid back into place.

Chris glanced over from the kitchen, eyebrow raised but saying nothing. His eyes caught the way Matt’s jaw was tight, muscles twitching like he was ready to snap. “Matt you look like something crawled up your ass,” he said, his eyes flicking between the two of us.

Matt shot Chris a glare but didn’t deny it.

You shifted, still feeling the weight of Matt’s stare on you, fingers spinning your ring a little faster.

Chris raised an eyebrow and offered a small grin. “How about we all smoke? That usually loosens everyone up.”

Matt’s eyes flicked to you, then back to Chris, a flicker of reluctant agreement flashing across his face.

“Fine,” Matt muttered, pushing off the wall and heading toward the kitchen.

You exhaled slowly, relief washing over you like warm water.

Chris tossed you a wink. “See? Easy fix.”

- - - - - -

Upstairs in Chris’s room, the low hum of music filled the space. The walls were plastered with posters, cluttered shelves lined with books and vinyl records, and the window cracked open just enough to let in the cool night air.

Chris flopped onto his bed with a soft sigh, exhaling a slow plume of smoke. “This is better,” he said, grinning at you.

Matt sat on the opposite side of the room to you, and mostly listened to you and Chris talking, adding in once in a while. 

You could practically see him melting though. You’d never seen him high, and it really gave him a different aura. He was leaning back on the chair, jaw unclenched, eyebrows not furrowed. He watched the smoke pour from his own mouth while listening. 

At some point, he laughed. Of course, he laughed with his friends—and family—but never around you. Everything suddenly felt so calm that you wished you were always high. 

After a while, Chris got a text. His brow furrowed in worry, then he stood up.

“Sorry guys. I just got a text from my buddy—says he needs a ride.”

The door clicked shut behind Chris, and silence settled in like dust.

Matt didn’t move for a while. Neither did you. The music kept playing, low and moody, the kind of song that made the walls feel closer.

You shifted on Chris’s bed, pulling your knees up, passing the half-finished joint back to Matt. He took it without looking, fingers brushing yours, warm and lazy.

“You’re really different when you’re high,” you said eventually, your voice softer than you meant it to be.

He gave a quiet huff of breath—might’ve been a laugh. Then, his eyes flicked up. “Yeah? You like me better this way?”

You shrugged, eyes on the ceiling. “I like when you’re not trying to bite my head off.”

A pause. Then: “I don’t hate you as much as you think I do.”

You turned your head slowly, heart jumping, but Matt didn’t look at you. He was focused on the joint, letting the smoke rise slow between his lips, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Why do you act like it then?”

Matt stood up without a word, stretching a little—his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a flash of skin and the waistband of his boxers.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he muttered, voice rough from smoke and the hours of heat.

He reappeared a few minutes later—damp, shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips.

You blinked. “Wha— what’re you doing? Put on some clothes.”

He paused in the doorway, towel ruffling through his hair like this was normal. Like you weren’t sitting there, stoned and soft, with a front-row seat to every inch of skin he usually kept hidden.

He looked up, deadpan. “Didn’t think you’d care.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter. “You’re literally just standing there shirtless.”

Matt glanced down at himself, then back at you. “And?”

You tried to hold his gaze, but your eyes kept flickering—chest, neck, the water still trailing slow over his stomach. God, it was not fair.

“You’re being weird,” you said, too fast, too defensive.

He smirked. That lazy, fucking infuriating smirk. “You’re the one staring.”

“I am not—” You stopped, mouth clicking shut.

He walked across the room, pulled open a drawer. The muscles in his back shifted in a way that made you have to physically look away.

“Shirt’s are just shirts,” he said, voice casual. “s’not like I’m naked.”

He pulled on a shirt eventually, but not before dragging it over his head in the slowest, most obnoxiously sexy way possible. He knew what he was doing. He had to.

You sat there with your heart thudding and your ring spinning.

Matt flopped back onto the chair like nothing had happened. He glanced at you now with that maddening half-interest.

“You good?” he asked, lips quirking just barely.

You didn’t answer. Just flicked your gaze toward him, then away, the ring spinning faster. If you opened your mouth, you might say something you couldn’t walk back.

He looked at them. At the blur of your thumb spinning metal. His eyes lingered.

“You always do that when I’m around?” he asked, tone suddenly too steady.

You froze for half a second. Swallowed. “Do what?”

His eyes didn’t move. “That little ring thing. You always start spinning it like you’re trying to keep from jumping out of your skin.”

Your stomach clenched. He wasn’t supposed to notice that. No one really noticed that. It was quiet— there was now way he could hear the whirring noise.

“Old habit,” you said, brushing it off.

He hummed like he didn’t believe you, like he knew it wasn’t just a habit. And then he leaned back, stretched his legs out, and looked at you carefully. You could see from here how blown his pupils were. He must’ve been in the clouds to be acting like tihis.

Silence bloomed between you—warm, stoned, slightly electric.

And then—

“Do I really freak you out that bad?” he asked, softer now.

Your mouth went dry.

You looked at him—really looked—and for the first time, he didn’t seem like he was trying to intimidate you. No mask, no sneer. Just Matt.

You took a breath. “You don’t freak me out.”

He raised a brow.

He raised a brow, but didn’t push. Just studied you.

Then he asked, almost too casually, “You staying the night?”

You blinked. “Why?”

He shrugged, leaned back further until his shoulder hit the wall. “Just asking.”

You hesitated, then gave a quiet, “Yeah. Probably.”

He nodded, eyes flicking down to your hands again. “Cool.”

You both sat there, the air between you still hazy and humming. His leg bounced once, slow, like he was holding in something else. 

“Why are you acting so nice?” you ask, confused. Usually by now, he’d be gone down the hall, into his room

He let out a breathy noise—half-exhale, half-laugh.

Not loud—just this low, gravelly sound that scraped against your spine.

“I’m high,” he said, like that excused everything. “Don’t get used to it.”

You smiled, despite yourself. “Too late.”

He looked at you again—really looked—like he wasn’t sure if you were joking or not.

He looked at you again. “Come here.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Just—come sit closer. I don’t feel like yelling across the room.”

You hesitated. His voice wasn’t sharp, and the smoke-soft look in his eyes made it harder to say no. So you got up and crossed the room, sitting at the edge of the bed, a few inches from him.

He didn’t shift. Didn’t touch you. Just kept looking, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Whatcha thinkin about?” he asked after a beat. 

You smirked, voice low. “Well, maybe I’m thinking about you.”

His eyes flicked up, sharp and amused, like he’d been waiting for that. “You’ve got some nerve.” He grinned, voice teasing. “I might start thinking about you, too.”

For a second you think he’s about to lean in and kiss you. And you think you might lean in too. Just a second, in the back of your mind. Then, he pulls back, clearing his throat.

Your look away, thumb rolling over the ring again—whrrr, whrrr, whrrr—and Matt’s gaze dropped to your hand for half a second.

“Does that actually help?” he asked.

You let out a breath. “Yeah. Kind of… yeah.”

He tilted his head, like he wanted more.

You hesitated, then spoke quieter. “When I don’t have it, I start to feel it everywhere. My fingers ache, my chest gets tight. It’s like my body needs something to latch onto or I’ll crawl out of my skin.”

Matt didn’t say anything at first. Just watched you. Really watched.

“So like… ” he said slowly, “You have ocd or some shit?”

You met his eyes. “No. It’s just something my therapist gave me—keeps me from wanting other stuff.”

Something shifted in his expression—respect, maybe. Or understanding.

He didn’t make a joke. Didn’t tease.

And then, finally, his head tipped back against the wall. You sat there beside him for a while, both of you quiet, caught in that suspended, slow-spinning space where nothing hurt too much and nothing felt too clear.

Eventually, you stood.

“I’m gonna crash.”

Matt blinked like he’d forgotten there was a clock ticking somewhere.

“Yeah. Okay. Goonight.” he says it in a tone that feels far too normal.

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at him once.

“You’re weird when you’re high.”

He gave the ghost of a smile—half-lip twitch, half-smirk. “And you talk too much.”

You rolled your eyes and slipped out the door.

But even after the door shut, and the hallway cooled the warmth on your skin, you could still feel it—his presence, his voice, the unspoken weight of everything that hadn’t been said.

The ring spun fast between your fingers as you made your way down the hall. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

- - - - - -

The smell of coffee pulled you from sleep before the light did.

You blinked against the sun streaming through Chris’s wide windows, the ache in your shoulders reminding you you’d crashed on the couch. 

At some point, someone had tossed a blanket over you—too soft, definitely not Chris. And Nick was out at someone else's house. Huh.

You sat up slowly, hair a mess, mouth dry, ring already spinning absently beneath your thumb.

Footsteps padded in from the kitchen.

Matt.

Shirt on now, hoodie hanging loose, sleeves pushed up. He held two mugs. One of them, he set on the coffee table in front of you without a word.

No eye contact. No snark. Just black coffee and that stiff jaw you recognized from every time he wasn’t high.

“Wha—Thanks?” you said, voice scratchy.

He gave a single nod and dropped onto the armchair across from you. Not the bed, not the couch—distance, like a shield. Still, his knee bounced. Still, his eyes flicked to your bare legs when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Chris leave already?” you asked.

“Went to get food.”

Silence.

You sipped. It was bitter. So was the air between you.

“You’re quieter today,” you said finally, watching him over the rim of the mug.

He didn’t look at you. “Mhm. Not high today.”

You hummed. “Shame. You’re cuter when you’re soft.”

His eyes snapped to yours then—sharp, a spark under the cool front.

“Don’t say shit like that.” he said, voice low.

You shrugged, letting your knee bump his lightly. “You like it.”

That pause. That inhale. The way he didn’t move away.

Then you asked. “Did you give me a blanket?”

He blinked. “What?”

You studied him. “Did you?”

He rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t real. “Chris told me to.”

You smiled, slow and knowing. “No he didn’t.”

Matt finally looked at you, eyes unreadable. “Shut up.”

You laughed, quiet but real. The warmth between you flickered—almost unbearable in its potential.

“I’m not gonna thank you,” you said.

He smirked, small and crooked.

Another pause. The tension returned like gravity, thick and waiting.

His eyes flicked to you, sharp for a second, but it faded just as fast. “Don’t get used to last night.”

You smirked, leaning in just a little. “Why not? I liked it.”

His jaw clenched. You saw it—just the flick of tension before he looked away again.

“I don’t do shit like this. Gets me hurt.” he muttered.

Your voice was gentler when you spoke again. “You think I don’t get hurt?”

“I’m not made of stone, Matt,” you said quietly, eyes locked on him. “You think I wanted to get hooked on someone who only looks at me when it’s dark out?”

His jaw ticked. A flinch, barely there. He set his mug down like it was too hot—like maybe you were too hot to hold.

“I didn’t ask you to like me,” he said finally, low and dry.

You tilted your head, lips parting slightly. “But you didn’t stop me either.”

His gaze lifted—sharp, burning. That look he gave you when he was half a second away from kissing you or walking out the door. You never knew which.

You swallowed. “If this is just gonna fuck me up, you should say it now.”

a/n - that's part onee!!! i've got so much ready for you guys and i hope you guys will like it. it's about to be incredibly devastating though so get ready.

asshole!matt x addicted!reader masterlist/intro

comment if you want to be added to my taglist

[httpssturns]

“Could I live under here?”

in which Chris loves snuggling under reader's hoodie, especially when it's his.

notes: hoodie stealing, pet names, established relationships, cuddling, clingy chris, Chris hiding under reader's hoodie, cuteness, fluffy, Use of "mama and ma," Slight suggestive jokes/actions but not really.

Chris’s hoodies are by far the most comfortable piece of clothing you could ever wear. They're always warm, soft, and they always have this cologne smell, like Old spice and sunshine, if sunshine really had a smell anyway.

And like clockwork, almost everyday you could be found curled up on his bed, hoodie on and hair up. Probably watching a show on your laptop or taking a nap, and today was no different.

“Baby, hey.” Chris says with a happy grin. He immediately finds his way towards you, flopping onto the bed and pulling you into his arms.

“Hi, bubba.” You giggle, kissing his temple.

“Is that my hoodie?” Chris teases, poking your cheek as his fingers gently tug on the soft fabric.

“No, it's the Abraham Lincoln’s.” You puff sarcastically, your hands finding his hair to softly tug on a tuft.

“S’no need to be smart with me, ma.” He murmurs, but it sounds more like he cares about being close to you then what you say.

The air goes quiet for a little bit, your laptop pushed to the side as Chris practically sits in your lap. The only thing he can be seen doing right now is clinging to you, relishing your presence after a long day.

“Ma..can we cuddle?” he asks quietly, and you automatically know what he's saying. To anyone else, seeing his form practically hanging off of you would look like cuddling enough, but for him, cuddling is never complete unless his head is nestled against your chest under a warm hoodie you're wearing.

“Course we can, bub. Come here." You say softly, pulling your hoodie up so he can slide under. Once he's under the fabric, you can't help but smile. You may not show it as much as him, but this is definently your favorite way to cuddle together.

“Love you so much, mama.” You can hear him breathing softly, the sound of his voice slightly muffled by the hoodie. He’s so so warm, and so close it could almost make your heart burst.

“Love you more, sweetheart.” You murmur, and you can feel him move slightly to press kisses to the skin of your chest, nuzzling into the soft flesh.

“Liar, no one can love anyone more than I love you.” He retorts, his nose snuggling into your skin.

“Well, then maybe I'm no one.” You tease with a soft giggle, rubbing his lower back softly and drawing random patterns on the flesh.

“Nah, definently not no one. You're my mama. My pretty girl.” He mumbles softly against your skin. You can feel his lips move against your skin, sometimes with words, other times it's just little kisses or traces of his lips on your skin.

His words make you melt, your heart beating rapidly against his cheek. And unfortunately, he notices.

“Your heart is beating pretty fast, pretty girl. You like when I call you that?” He teases, shifting the hoodie so he can poke up the neck of it.

“Get away from me!” you whine, pushing his head back down. “I won't let you cuddle me like this anymore if you keep that up.” You threaten, and the way he instantly pipes up in panic has you struggling not to laugh.

“No, no! I'm sorry. Please don't make me leave.” He whines, hugging you tighter as he peppers kisses on your stomach like an apology.

You let out a small giggle, and reply “Fine, but if you tease me again I'm evicting you.”

Chris doesn't respond for a second, seemingly thinking about something before he finally speaks up.

“..Do you think I could live in here?” he wonders aloud, nestling against your stomach. “i mean, it's soft and warm.. so nice.. I think I could live here.”

“Chris, you'd probably get heat stroke, or starve.” You joke softly, trailing your hand under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin.

“Noo, you would just need to get one of those portable fan things that have the batteries, gimme some air every once in a while.” He teases. “And as for starvation, you're pretty tasty, I think i’d be eatin’ good.”

“Christopher, come on.” You laugh, and all he can do is poke his head out for a second to give you a cheeky grin.

“i’m so dead serious, I really think I have everything I need to live a happy, nourished life under here!” he exclaims with a laugh, nipping at the skin just under your bra.

You let out a soft yelp, before you both burst into giggles. “Okay, maybe you could potentially live here. I'll have to talk to the landlord though.”

“The landlord will say yes, I know it.” He giggles with a sure tone.

“How are you so sure about that?” You ask with a small chuckle, flicking his back softly before rubbing the spot with your fingers.

“Let’s just say, I have my ways.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your breast before poking out with a grin.

“Alright mister, we’ll see. But the landlord is pretty strict, she might refuse.” You grin back at him, patting his back.

Chris only giggles some more, and for the rest of the night, he's just living under your hoodie in a bliss you could only get from being at the top of cloud nine.

Let's just say, he got the lease the next day.

No tag today cuz I made these dividers! (Free for use)

✮ soph's notes: I hope you guys like this fic because I actually am really proud of this one!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @sugarraez @ribbonlovergirl @slvt4subchratt @sturnsblogs @oopsiedaisydeer @backwardshatnick @izzylovesmatt @viviansturns @courta13 @coquettechris @matts-wife @matts-babytomatoes @whore4chris

comment on this post to be added to the main tag!

[sturniqlo]

TALK ABOUT HARD LAUNCH- CHRIS STURN

summary: chris hard launching his relationship on instagram, y/n following shortly social media blurb

cw: none! just pure FLUFF

an: like sabrina's album, this is short n' sweet

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

liked by y/n, nicolassturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, madisonbeer, and 197,428 others

christophersturniolo: 🎞️ @ y/n

view all 14,732 comments

y/n: oh? we're doing this today?

| christophersturniolo: yes😁 i couldn't wait

nicolassturniolo: keep it pg kids

matthew.sturniolo: mom n dad

tarayummy: y/n my favorite😭😭

madisonbeer: cutest couple🤭

sturnfan1: what happened to hello?????

sturnfan47: CHRIS? Y/N?? WHEN WAS THIS!!

| christophersturniolo: a year, five months and three days ago

liked by christophersturniolo, nicolassturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, tarayummy, and 194,275 others

y/n: me and bf on film💋 @ christophersturniolo

view all 15,284 comments

christophersturniolo: love these and love you🫵🏼❤️

| y/n: 👁️❤️🫵🏼

nicolassturniolo: "thank you nick for 2/3 of these pictures" we all say in unison

matthew.sturniolo: dare i say your post was better than chris'..

larray: me when😞

tarayummy: cuties🍊

madisonbeer: love is in the air

| y/n: always🪽

sturnfan73: didn't expect this on a random thursday

y/nfan29: lovee the way they hard launched their relationship

[phone4pills]

𝐈 𝐂𝐔𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒

𝒔𝒖𝒃!chris and attitude adjustment

“f-fuck, please!” whines reaching every corner of the room flew from his swollen lips, cheek still red with the print of your hand. he admired that same hand now teasing his tip, covered in what he couldn’t hold in.

“you wanted this, yeah? so quit bein’ a baby and suck it up.” you spat, knowing every word was only turning him in more and more. Chris was dying on that pillow, hair soaked with sweat, lashes stuck together by stray tears, every thump of his heart pushing on his ribs.

ropes of cum built up on his crotch, the cream bedsheets strewn at his ankles as you moved closer, tits pressing undeniably hard on the base of his dick. a groan slipped his mouth, coasting through the strained confines of his throat. Chris’ jaw hung slack, creating a shadow over the abundance of hickeys along his neck; on his Adam’s apple that fought against the damaged skin.

arms fighting against the mattress, he begged you to let him cum again. “jus’—jus’ one more please…” his words barely made it through his teeth, seeping through each laboured breath while Chris’ eyes remained focused on the brighter red peaking through between the slick movement your criminally pleasant fingers.

“let me hear you say it, then.” you hummed, eyebrows raised.

“sorry-”

“huh?”

“m’sorry!!”

white slick spewed out of his cock, spilling onto his tummy and oozing down the small but noticeable gap between his back and the bed.

“so so sorry…”

smut smut smut. dinner? no. smut.

- ©phone4pills

[sirensdollesque]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐞 & 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

@ sharkiesdiary

♪Super Rich Kids- Frank Ocean

liked by christophersturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, & 88.7k others

sharkiesdiary there's nothing like this type of view 🪸

view comments

christophersturniolo if anyone's wondering, sharkie almost cried when the hammerhead swam to her !

sharkiesdiary HEY! they're just water puppies and they were so pretty :((

christophersturniolo the kiss mark washed up while surfing :((

sharkiesdiary c'mere then lemme fix that!

nicolassturniolo not an ounce of shame here...

matthew.sturniolo conviced miss shark girl is a mermaid

sharkiesdiary not quite! I am a shark whisperer though!!

user112 chris was SLUMPED.

tarayummy beach day me & you soon??

sharkiesdiary abso-fucking-lutely

@ christophersturniolo

♪She's Mine Pt1- J. Cole

liked by sharkiesdiary, matthew.sturniolo, & 106.7k others

christophersturniolo surfing and swimmin' with my favorite sharkie girl 🦈🩶

view comments

sharkiesdiary c'mere we're gonna go swimming tonight!

christophersturniolo ill race you to the shore rn mama

nicolassturniolo but did you actually get her flowers 🤨

christophersturniolo does the beach have sand? yes, I got her flowers

matthew.sturniolo kid is the irl mermaid man

christophersturniolo yessir 🫡

user326 the kiss mark?? the shawdow?? the picture of them?? this is mama y papa

♥︎ by creator & one other

nathandoe8 im calling

christophersturniolo to the beach you must go to reach me

toritalks🪸- I wanna go swimming now

tags- @fawnquette @sturns-mermaid @freshloveee @ch6rm @chrisissobabygirl @immaqulate @strnilolover @submattsgf @joces-wrld @throatgoat4u @jensturnss @sweetshuga @oopsiedaisydeer @lilolebambi @stvrniolostan @lyingonchris @courta13 @moth-feeet @stvrniolostan @sturniolo-szn2 @sturnsblogs @chrisbratt333 @httpssturns