myobscuredmindd

[myobscuredmindd]

starving // munch! bf! matt sturniolo

synopsis : your boyfriend is having severe cravings and the only thing he wants that will satiate it, is your sweet pretty pussy. nsfw ahead! overstimulating, pussy-eating, etc.

“m-matt, ‘s too much!—“

despite your pleas and your attempt to push him away by getting up, matt’s firm grip on the flesh of your thighs merely tightens further as his head dives deeper in between the folds of your dripping pussy and his hands hold you in place above him.

it’s been over an hour since matt laid below you. for the first thirty minutes, he was just enjoying the position of you on top of him, convincing you to just watch a movie on the tv in front of you while he satisfies himself. but now the movie was merely background noise as all you can think about is matt’s nose against your clit and the nth orgasm you were receiving in just under two hours.

the way he devours every drop of your nonstop gushing juices, it makes you think he’s been deprived of liquid for days. even when your release drips down his chin, his cheeks, it doesn’t deter him and he doesn’t relent. he practically relishes in the way your thighs shake and tremble.

“come on, angel,” matt briefly pulls back, lifting his head just enough to show the darkened look in his infatuated eyes. “you can keep going for me, can’t you?”

your panting, breathless as a red flush spreads across your cheeks and you weakly press your thighs together, unintentionally crushing his face but he doesn’t mind. “i-i can’t, matty.. is-it’s too much..”

“aw, i’m sorry baby.” matt coos as he thumb rubs soothing circles on your inner thigh and he chuckles lowly, kissing your skin softly. “you just look so pretty.. and taste incredible..”

he raises his head and gives a long stroke of his tongue against your heat and you squeak. “matt!”

the rumble of laughter vibrates against your skin as he slowly pulls back and relieves his grip on you and licks his lips. “it’s only been a couple hours.” he sighs gently as he stares up at your exhausted form, biting his lip at the sight.

“besides this is your designated spot. my pretty girl deserves her throne..” matt mutters as he can’t help himself and drags you down again, your pussy colliding with his lips as he dives in once more making you cry out in overwhelming pleasure.

“so perfect.. so pretty just f’ me..” he murmurs as he shuts his eyes and enjoys his time.

“i’m starving..”

a/n : i’m in a huge matt mood but i promise ill get back to rafe !! <3

thank you to @bernardsbendystraws for the divider !! and for making me in such a munch! matt mood hehe ♡(。-ω-)

what do you guys think of the divider? should i keep using this or switch to my typical purple lines?

unedited.

[myobscuredmindd]

༄ Blurb of Matt making you hurt so good…

Warning - this is sadism. Slapping is included. So is clit torture (bean flicking) and fingering and more. Have fun reading!

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Awwww, look at that…” Matt husks, his fingers sliding through your soaked folds, the tips of his fingers applying extra pressure as he circles your clit, “-she’s so wet for me, hm? All messy, just how I like it.”

Your gut is raveling with knots of pleasure. Words are too difficult to grasp onto, the only sound escaping your lips being lewd moans and echoes of his name.

“Matt, I - fuck!” you screech, your hips rutting off the mattress as you feel him land an abrupt slap on the side of your thigh. Again. He knew how much you loved it. And honestly, he fucking craved it. His hands on his girl. It was just so perfect - so euphoric.

A sudden cry pushes through your lips. Your body contorts uncontrollably, accidentally pushing yourself against him, creating friction on his hard length prodding you between the layers of clothes he still had on.

“Baby, god,” he rasps, his hand slapping down on your thigh halting and gripping the skin as his other hand circles around your clit, sliding through your folds meticulously.

“Tell me how good it feels, cmon. I can tell you’re gettin close. Tell me.”

Your lips fall open once more. “I - “ Matt can’t help himself, swiftly planting another slap onto your reddened skin, absolutely mesmerized at the mess you are for him.

“Say it. Cmon, be a good girl and tell me.”

Your hips are rocking relentlessly against his hand. “So good. It - mph! Hurts so good,” you strain, your lips dropping open into an O as you feel the familiar and unforgettable high of euphoria.

“Yeah? Hurts so good, hm? Thaaattt’s it, fuck - maybe we should make it hurt some more.”

[myobscuredmindd]

crush ── .✦

“I wanna, uh, him in the back of his mom's Mercury..”

❤︎ - sylanna’s note : this is so short omfg. but ethel inspired + i haven’t written for chris in a whileee soooo yeah!!

——————————————————————————

it was late when chris texted you, when we said he’d pick you up, when he said he needed you. how could you say no, when he’s so irresistible? that’s how you’re now, in the backseat of his mom’s mercury comet, while his thrusting up into you.

“i-mmg chris” you moan out, while his eyes are focused and trained on your every movement, and expression. “feels good yeah? hm? thaaaatssss riiighttt, told ya it would” he taunts with a smirk, his hands squeezing your hips as he guides you to follow his movements, up and down his throbbing cock.

“yes chris, so fuc- fucking good” you whine, hips moving quicker, as your head falls back in pleasure. chris notices, his thrusts feeling even deeper inside of you, as one of his hands move to rub tight circles against your puffy clit. you writhe in satisfaction, feeling his tip graze your cervix, as your walls flutter around him, your orgasm quickly approaching. he groans, feeling you tighten aound him his movements against your bud never slowing.

“cmon pretty, cum all over my cock yeah? fuck-“ chris grunts, looking up at your smudged mascara, frizzy hair, and messy lipstick, you looked prefect to him like this. you nod as your teeth sink into your swollen plush lips, your orgasm crashing over you as you squeeze around his cock leaving a creamy ring around his base. he moans lowly, at the sight and sensation at hand, while his movements — shortly after turn slower and sloppier, painting your insides white with his warm sticky fluid.

“ 'cause good men die too, so I'd rather be with you…”

🏷️ — @ch6rm @frattboychris @raesturns @matthewsroses @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @slvt4chriss @chrisspussygang @harls-sturn @beela696969 @slut4chris888 @luvvnai @graciebrams @wastelandzella @wassupleticia @mattsbug @phosphns @courta13 @pixie-sticks-are-good

[myobscuredmindd]

never do that shit again you sick fuck

[myobscuredmindd]

bathroom quickie at a wedding....

ೀ ‧₊˚

"fu--uk," you squeaked, head dropping back against the mirror with a gentle thud as chris' hand lifts from your hip -- long, veiny fingers wrapping around your throat, squeezing gently as an attempt to keep your noises that were echoing off the bathroom walls to a minimum. chris grunts, the sound slightly muffled by the sleek black fabric of his suits' tie that's tucked between the two rows of his pearly white teeth as he held it up and out of the way -- giving himself a clear view as your cunt sucked his cock in and out with each brutal thrust he gave.

his hand on your inner thigh tightened, blunt nails digging in to the soft, plush skin as he pushed your leg open wider - the action earning yet another whimper from you as your muscles stretched beneath your skin. "chris..." you mewl, voice strained due to his grip on your neck. he didn't respond for a moment, shifting the angle of your body to his liking - the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he buried himself to the hilt.

"oh—!" your jaw went slack, drool dribbling from your reddened, kiss-swollen lips, leaving a glistening trail down to the back of his hand. chris groaned, both at the sight of his hand now covered in your saliva as well but also from you clenching around him. "yea'.. baby," he chuckles, his tie slipping from his mouth as he spoke. "right there, huh--mama?"

another whine escapes you, fingers gripping the sleeves of his suit so hard you were surprised your nails hadn't punctured a hole in the fabric. "please, p-," you blubber, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the knot in your stomach wound tightener - signaling your impending release. chris tsked, "uh huh—c'mon, sweetness',"

he nodded, his breaths heavy and uneven as tiny beads of sweats slid down his face. "gonna cum for me? huh?" he questions, his hand leaving your throat, sliding down the front of your body to your swollen clit - "gonna cream all over my cock again?" chris hummed, fingertips rubbing in circles against you. "oh my god--" you nearly scream, trembling thighs attempting to clamp shut around his hand.

chris couldn't contain the way his lips curled up in a smirk as your back arched up from the marbled countertop, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. "c-clo—" you start, your warning cut short as a strangled cry tore from your throat. your walls fluttered around his cock as your orgasm hit - the force of it blurring your vision and knocking the wind from your lungs as your entire body shook violently.

"there we go--" he coos, staring in awe at the white ring coating the base of his cock. "so good," he hisses, his words causing you to clench around him again, a choked sob leaving you as his fingers continued their movements on your aching clit - "squeezin' me fuckin' so tight, holy fuck,"

within seconds, his cock twitched inside of you, a loud, gutteral groan falling from his lips as his thrusts stilled, ropes of sticky, hot cum painting your gummy walls. "sh..shit," he gasped, his head falling against your shoulder, heavy breaths warm against your ear, "y'okay...?" he manages after a few moments. "mhmm—yea'.." you slurred, utterly spent.

RAFESPRECIOSA © 2025 .

tags 🏷️ @secretlocket @deansbeer @et6rnalsun @isnyv @cupiidk1lls @freshloveee @starzify @chrissturnsfav

[myobscuredmindd]

WRONGFULLY RIGHT | M.STURNIOLO

in which nate’s girlfriend can never resist seeing matt behind her boyfriends back when he’s in town.

warnings: cheating,car sex,riding,creampie,squirting, use of baby and good girl,multiple orgasms.

it's wrong…you know it is, but it's almost like you can't stay away.

you don't know if it's the way he fucks you, treats you, or what. all you know is every time matt's in boston you're always calling him up to come pick you up and ruin you in his backseat.

your boyfriend nate doesn't know nor do his brothers know, and it's going to stay that way. possibly.

you tell yourself it's the last time, every time. but deep down, you know that's a lie. the thrill of sneaking around, the chase, the pure ecstasy of it all—it's addictive. you're playing with fire, and you're fully aware that one day, you might get burned. but for now, the heat is just too enticing to resist.

the guilt gnaws at you sometimes, a constant reminder of the unfaithfulness. but then matt comes to town, and all those thoughts that are racing in your head melt away. you tell yourself, that it doesn't mean anything. yet, deep down, you wonder if you're fooling yourself more than anyone else, because you always end up in the back of his car. you always run to matt when he's in town.

and that's exactly what happened this time. matt came to boston for his birthday week, which coincides with nate's upcoming birthday. yet here you are, in the middle of night, searching for a secluded spot for you to get dicked down in the backseat (which never gets old when you're with matt)

you feel a mix of excitement and guilt as matt pulls into a dimly lit parking lot in the town of sommerville —one they used to go to to film their youtube videos earlier in their career. matt turns to you, his eyes dark with desire, “is this good?” he says with a restless tone of voice.

“yeah this is perfect.”you say eagerly.

as matt turns the music up, you feel a familiar rush of adrenaline, you know this is how it always starts; you find a parking lot, you turn up music, and get down and dirty soon after.

without hesitation, you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb into the backseat with readiness, arousal rushing heating up your body more and more. matt follows suit, his movements swift, as if he's been waiting for this moment all night. clothes swept off in an instant.

“c'mon i want you to ride me.”, he says grabbing your waist throwing you onto his lap as soon as he rushes to the back seat.

your cheeks flush with red like a strawberry at a simple touch and hand placement. he then grabs your face kissing you sloppily.

the first touch. it burns but feels so good. you know its the adrenaline, but its also the excitement of something you haven't had in what feels centuries. you kiss him back hungrily loving the way his lips mold with yours.

you put your hand on his chest. you align yourself with his stiff cock and ease yourself down. the stretch burns. you'll never get used to how big he is. way bigger then nate. the familiar stretch that makes you lean forward and press your lips to his as it stretches you out little by little.

the long as you awaited feeling of matt inside of you could make you finish right then and there. his dick makes you see stars.

once you get used to the feeling, you put your head in the crook of his neck, and slowly start to rock your hips.

low, muffled curses come out of both of your mouths.

skin slapping on skin, the mixture of his groans and your moans and the drowned-out music on his radio are the only things that can be heard.

matt's hands grip your hips tighter, guiding your movements as you ride him with increasing intensity. the windows of his car are starting to fog up, creating a private sanctuary in this public space. the car rocking as you ride him.

“fuck, you feel so good.”he groans into your ear, his hot breath against your neck sending shivers down your spine.

you pick up the pace putting your hands on his chest and using your feet to help you bouncefaster on his cock as his hands roam your body, touching every sensitive spot he knows drives you wild. the familiar coil of pleasure builds in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

“i'm close.” you whimper, your movements becoming more erratic as you chase your release.

matt's grip tightens, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. “cum for me, baby. let me feel you.” he demands, his voice rough with desire.

your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your walls clenching around him as waves of pleasure course through your body. matt follows shortly after, groaning your name as he fills you up.

as you both come down from your high, reality slowly starts creeping back in. you know this won't be the last time, no matter how many times you tell yourself otherwise. matt's pull is too strong, the thrill too addictive to resist.

matt pulls you off of him and he spreads your legs open and inserts two fingers into your sensitive cunt catching you off guard making you whine as you were sensitive from just cumming.

your pussy makes squelching noises as he fucks the mixture of your cum back into your pussy with his fingers. biting down on his lips as he watches his fingers thrust in and out of you.

you felt that familiar build up starting to rise in your pussy as the sounds started getting wetter and wetter.

“come on baby, i know you can do it.”matt praised as he thrusted his fingers into you at a fast pace knowing what was coming.

one of his favorite things to do was make you squirt. he loved the thrill of it, and quite honesty he also enjoyed the mess that he can make out of you.

nate never had you like this. he could barely make you cum without you helping. this is one of the reasons you always run to matt when he’s in town. and maybe the fact that you both are too drawn to each other to let each other go.

you could feel your legs starting to shake as matt's fingers continued their relentless pace. your hands gripped the seats, trying to anchor yourself as the pleasure built up to an almost unbearable level.

“that's it, good girl.” matt whispered, his voice husky with desire. “i want to see you make a mess.”

your back arched off the seat as his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your vision blur and your eyes roll back. the wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you filled the car, mixing with your desperate moans.

“matt, i-i can't.” you gasped, feeling the pressure building.

lyes, you can.” he encouraged, adding more pressure. “come on, baby. show me how good i make you feel.”

your whole body tensed as the sensation became overwhelming. with a loud cry, you felt yourself gush around his fingers, your release soaking the backseat and making matt’s pants soaked.

matt groaned at the sight, slowly working you through your orgasm until you were whimpering from oversensitivity. “fuck, you're so hot when you do that.”

you lay there panting, your body trembling from the intensity of your second orgasm.

matt leaned down to kiss you softly. “i love it when you do that baby.” he looked at you as he started to rub fast circles on your clit as you felt another one starting to build up.

you whimpered at the overstimulation, your body still sensitive from the previous orgasms. but matt's skilled fingers knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you come undone again and again.

“please.” you gasped, not sure if you were begging him to stop or continue. your thighs trembled as he maintained his relentless pace.

“i know you've got one more in you..” matt growled, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread open. “you're doing so good for me.”

the praise sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel yourself getting closer. your hips started to move against his hand involuntarily, chasing that familiar build-up of pleasure.

“that's it, baby. just like that.” he encouraged, increasing the pressure on your clit. “you look so fucking beautiful when you're about to cum.”

your breath came in short gasps as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level. your hands clutched desperately at the leather seats, searching for something to ground you as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

“matt, fuck.” you moaned, your back arching off the seat. “i'm gonn-”

“cum for me.”he demanded, his voice rough with desire. “one more time, baby. let me see you fall apart.”

your third orgasm hit you like a lightning bolt, more intense than the previous ones.

your body convulsed as pleasure coursed through you, matt's fingers working you through it until you were practically sobbing from oversensitivity.

“no more.” you pleaded weakly, pushing his hand away. your entire body felt like jelly, completely spent from the multiple orgasms. matt slipped his fingers out of you licking them clean of your juices. he was addicted to your taste.

matt chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms. "you did so good." he murmured, pressing gentle kisses to your temple. "so fucking good for me."

as you lay there in his arms, trying to catch your breath, reality started to seep back in. the guilt, the shame, the knowledge that you'd have to face nate tomorrow – it all came rushing back.

but for now, in the safety of matt's backseat, with his arms around you and his heartbeat steady against your back, you let yourself enjoy the moment. you knew this wasn't the last time, no matter how many promises you made to yourself.

matt's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as your breathing slowly returned to normal. the windows were completely fogged up now, creating a private bubble that separated you from the rest of the world.

“we should probably get going.” matt said softly, though he made no move to let you go. “it’s getting late.”

you nodded, but remained still for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. these stolen moments were all you had with him, and despite the guilt, despite knowing it was wrong, you couldn't bring yourself to give them up.

slowly, you both began to gather your clothes, getting dressed in the cramped space of his backseat. your body ached in the most delicious way, a reminder of what had just transpired.

as matt drove you home, neither of you spoke much. the silence was comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of the radio and the hum of the engine. his hand rubbing soft circles on your thigh. you both knew that this wouldn't be the last time, despite what you might tell yourselves.

because that's how it always went with matt. no matter how many times you said “never again” no matter how guilty you felt afterward, you always found yourself back in his car, addicted to the thrill, the pleasure, the forbidden nature of it all.

[myobscuredmindd]

𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐭

☆ a pornstar!chris sturniolo blurb...

chris had been at this for just about an hour, relentless thrusts that brought you to the edge over an over as you remained bent over his center console, chest to the heated leather as you held onto it for dear life. it was already so sweaty and sticky, yet chris showed no signs of letting up any time soon. he'd flip you over to work his tongue into your dripping entrance when he felt you shaking on him, drinking up the mixture of your guys' release to give you a (truthfully unhelpful) break before pushing himself into you again.

you weren't exactly sure why he was acting like this, or if it really even had anything to do with you, but you knew now a weeks break from each other was just too much for him to handle. he needed some sort of actual release, not just his hand. with you having been out of town, all while being his only hookup right now, he wasn't able to get that. if the videos he'd sent you while you were so far away, giving you one of those personalized ones hundreds of girls have bought from his onlyfans for free—he even went so far as to whimper your name for you.

now you were paying the fees. chris' mouth finally gave your cunt a break, head lifting so he could take in your fucked-out expression with a drunken stare. he wasn't satisfied, sitting back in the seat of his car, his head whipping from side to side like he was searching for something. your head lifted from its position beside his gearshift, panting a bit as you watched him curiously.

finally, he found it, snatching his phone up from the seat beside him in the dark car. he looked back at you, a mischevious grin as he pulled up the camera app. "i- i thought you said no filming tonight?" you asked, your voice raspy with the dryness from using it for such a prolonged period of time.

"m'not," he replied simply as a hand reached out to grab the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs apart to reveal your abused pussy to him.

with a flash, he took a picture, then turning his screen to face you with an amused grin. your face flushed, seeing the image of your clit puffy and red, clearly agitated from all the overstimulation. "chri-"

he shushed you, quickly turning off his phone and throwing it to the seat beside him once again. "that's a good pic for twitter, huh?" chris asked rhetorically, his grin turning devious as he leaned into you the way he'd been before.

again, you opened your mouth to reply, but this time you were cut off by his thumb pressing against your sensitive bundle. a high-pitched squeal left your mouth, and your legs reflexively closed around his hand. you lost the breath you'd only just caught, chris' other hand moving to pry your legs back open. he wasn't deterred though, thumb wet with your juices as he began rubbing tight circles.

"mm-mm," he shook his head in disapproval, hardly struggling to reveal you to him once more, "gonna have t'tap out, love."

°

"she say i drive her crazy, i say just keep on your seatbelt / bend it over bust it open for me" -lil wayne

w/c : 534 taglist : @m4ttsmunch, @mattsnumberonehoe, @k4yd1, @bxtchboy69, @st4rcs, @x0x0bunny, @chrissexygf

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[myobscuredmindd]

i wanna kiss their foreheads and read them a bedtime story

[myobscuredmindd]

tie, a matt sturniolo blurb

ও

lewd squelches and passionate moans echoed in matt's bathroom, a clear telltale of what was happening to anybody who might have walked right by it. you didn't care, you really couldn't bring your mind to think about anything else beside your handsome boyfriend in front of you with his hair dishevelled, his white botton down shirt hanging open on his shoulders, giving you a clear view of your little art project – his perfectly pale skin covered in red lipstick, your kisses smudged everywhere on his chest and neck. could anyone really blame you? how could you resist him when he came through the door looking fine like that, his whole demeanor inspiring wild thoughts in your head?

what you loved the most, though, was how starved he was for you too. so it shouldn't have been a surprise when he picked you up from the couch, dragged you to the bathroom and put you down on the counter. one thing led to another and that's how you ended up in this position, with your own shirt tugging loose on your shoulders, your legs wrapped snuggly around matt's waist, pushing him deeper inside you with every thrust. but the most interesting detail of your little quickie was his crazy expensive dior tie wrapped around your own neck which he pulled as he pleased, whenever he pleased, making your eyes flutter shut as the pressure briefly cut the air from your lungs, light-headedness taking a hold of you.

you whimpered, head thrown back as your boyfriend tugged at the tie again, mumbling in your ear "feels good? y're being so good, such a good girl for daddy, yeah?", his cock slowly dragging in and out your gummy walls.

you moaned again, unable to form a coherent sentence, feeling high off the pleasure. "here, baby," he whispered, slipping two fingers inside your mouth, the cold metal of his rings pressing down on your tongue. "can't risk the guys hearing, mh?"

matt looked at you with a smirk planted on his lips as you obediently took his fingers in your mouth and sucked on them, pleased with your fucked out state. "can't even speak, baby? getting dumb on my dick, yeah?" he chuckled darkly, then whispered "so cute" before taking his fingers out of your mouth, letting go of the tie as his hand wrapped around your neck, pounding into you hard and fast while you came with a loud scream all over his cock, soon followed by his own release.

"oh fuck," he groaned, feeling your walls squeezing and milking him dry. "this tie definitely got you going, baby."

© stvrnioloslvt

ও

ও a.n: HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIIIT THIS SHIT IS MAKING ME CRAZY I NEED THIS MF LIKE NOW (chris ver)

[myobscuredmindd]

ʚ・ fuckboy!matt and innocent!reader

warnings… smut, lowercase intended, no use of y/n

“sweetheart… sweetheart.., y’got it… i know you do…” matt muttered as he hovered over you, elbows on either side of your head. his chain dangled in your face. you could only look up at him with those wide, innocent eyes. he could almost cum at the sight.

he promised to start off gentle, but he couldn’t keep up with that for long. after hearing all your little gasps and moans, he could only speed up till he was pounding into you.

the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin were barely dulled by matt’s sex music playlist that he had put on earlier. your manicured nails dug into his back, leaving scratches that would be aching red marks by the morning.

his cock drove deeper into your leaky cunt, eliciting a grunt from matt and even more moans from you. the way his tip would kiss your cervix every time he thrusted deeper made you almost incoherent.

“y’so wet. drenchin’ my sheets.” it sounds as if he’s complaining, but he loves it.

“m..matt…. ‘s…. f-fuck…” you tried babbling out a sentence, but your only thought was how good his thick cock felt inside of you.

“huh sweetheart? goin’ dumb on my cock now, that it?” his signature smirk made its way onto his face as his thrusts became sloppier.

“g..gon-na … cum?” you managed to spill out, before matt brought one of his hands down to rub tight circles on your clit. that overwhelming knot in your stomach only tightened.

“i know. can feel y’clenchin ‘round me.” he grinds his teeth, focused on making you cum before he does. which is crazy, he never does that.

you manage to yelp out his name as you cum around his cock, and he grunts in pleasure, watching the blissed out look on your face. he continues with a few more sloppy thrusts, but soon after, you feel thick ropes of his cum painting your walls.

“y’look hot when you cum” matt flashes a grin at you, and you can’t help the rosy tint that covers your cheeks.

[myobscuredmindd]

ROCK ME | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

oneshot - sunshine!reader x goldenboy!chris

Your relationship with Chris Sturniolo is the epitome of a first teenage love. It’s late night drives with the music too loud, whispered secrets under the covers, and sneaking into each other's houses just to fall asleep wrapped up in each other. It’s the kind of love that feels like summer. It’s warm, wild, and infinite. But with him, it’s not just a season. It’s all year round.

story warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial (if you squint), fluff, established relationship, etc. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 10k (sorry)

The wind rushes through your beach-waved hair, the summer heat warming your body as laughter bubbles past your lips. The bass from the speakers vibrates through your chest. You’re weightless, golden, and free, just like the setting sun in the sky.

Chris lighty grips the steering wheel with one hand, the other draped lazily over the console between you. His black Ray-Bans sit low on his nose, and he tilts his head slightly, peeking over the frames to catch a glimpse of you.

That signature smirk tugs at his lips- the one that got you hooked in the first place, the one that still makes your stomach flip, the one you could never say no to.

The warm glow of the sun catches on his skin, highlighting the freckles scattered across his nose. He looks so effortlessly beautiful. The kind of boy you’d write songs about. You have no idea how he’s yours.

You’re wearing nothing but an orange string bikini top and a pair of light-wash denim shorts, the fabric rough against your sunburnt skin. Chris isn’t wearing much more. Just pink swim trunks and a backward Somerville High cap, a reminder of your life beyond these summer nights.

But you don’t want to think about that.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you shift onto your knees, climbing onto the center console. Chris barely has a second to react before you’re pushing yourself up and out through the open sunroof, arms spreading wide as the night swallows you whole.

The second your head breaches the top, you scream- loud and free, the sound ripping through the air and blending with the music. The wind hits you harder than you thought, stealing the breath from your lungs, pushing the extra skin on your face back. The sky stretches out above you, painted in deep pinks and oranges.

Chris’s laughter rumbles beneath you, but his grip is firm when he slides a hand up your waist, fingers pressing against the bare skin just above your shorts. “Be careful, baby,” he yells, his voice barely carrying over the wind, but you hear it. You feel it. The warmth of his palm spreads across your skin, grounding you even as you chase the high of the moment.

You tip your head back, hair tangling messily in the wind, letting out another breathless laugh. The music is deafening, the bass pounding through your body, but all you can focus on is the feeling- the reckless, intoxicating freedom of being here, with him, like this. In love.

Chris’s fingers trace slow circles against your side, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there. He’s always there. “You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he mutters, but there’s no real frustration in his voice.

You dip your head forward, glancing down at him through strands of hair, your chest rising and falling with the adrenaline still buzzing through you. “At least I’d die happy,” you tease, voice breathless, full of laughter.

Chris shakes his head, lips tugging into a smirk. “Not happening,” he says, his fingers grazing up your ribs, sending a shiver through you despite the summer heat. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The world feels endless up here, with the wind in your hair, the night sky stretching out forever. But nothing compares to the way Chris’s hands feel against your skin- warm, steady, always there.

You don’t have to look down to know he’s watching you, the way he always does. Like he can’t believe you’re real. He really should be looking at the road but you’re not even mad.

Chris is the golden boy of Somerville High. Captain of the lacrosse team, hometown hero, the kind of guy teachers brag about long after he’s left their classrooms. The guy everyone wants to be, wants to know, wants to love. He walks down the halls like he belongs to them, like Somerville itself is stitched into his skin, and maybe it is.

And you?

You’re the sunshine girl. The one who gets along with everyone, who turns strangers into friends with nothing but a smile. The girl who gets good grades without trying too hard, who sings too loud at parties, who dances barefoot in the grass just because she can. You’re golden in a different way- soft and bright, light spilling into every room you walk into.

Maybe that’s why it never made sense. Why people still don’t get it. But you do. You know how it happened.

You know it started long before anyone else had noticed. Before the stolen glances, before the late-night drives, before he whispered your name like a secret he never wanted to share.

It started in eighth grade, when he caught you skipping class to sit in the empty stands of the football field, watching the sky instead of paying attention to anything else. He sat next to you without a word, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You get lost up there too?” he’d asked, nodding toward the clouds.

You’d just smiled, something soft, something easy. “Yeah,” you’d said. “Guess I do.”

It started freshman year, when he saw you crying behind the gym after another boy on the lacrosse team that you had a crush on asked a different girl to hoco. And instead of making some dumb joke, he just sat with you. Shoulder to shoulder, silence stretching between you, solid and safe.

It started sophomore year, at some house party, when the music was too loud and the air was too thick and his eyes…God, his eyes. They were locked on you like you were the only thing worth looking at. You don’t remember who kissed who first. Maybe it was both of you, leaning in at the same time, laughter turning into something else, something breathless.

You do remember the way he groaned against your lips, the way his hands tangled in your hair like he’d been waiting for this for years. The way he lifted you, effortlessly and careless, and pressed you against the wall like he was never going to let you go.

But that was nothing compared to the first time.

Junior year. The backseat of his Jeep, parked down by the beach, the moon high in the sky. Your body still damp from the water, his skin burning hot against yours. He looked at you like he was afraid to blink, like he needed to memorize everything. The curve of your lips, the tilt of your chin, the way your breath hitched when he traced lazy circles on your hip.

“I’ve never-” you’d started, but he kissed the words right out of your mouth, slow and deep and reverent.

“I know,” he murmured, forehead resting against yours. “Me neither.”

Then he was everywhere, hands and lips and warmth and the most intimate parts of him. And you were his, in a way that felt bigger than a single night. In a way that felt like forever.

Now, here you are. The summer before senior year.

You drop back down into your seat, breathless, the rush still buzzing through your veins. Chris doesn’t let go of you, doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Instead, he rubs slow circles into your sunburnt skin, his thumb brushing over the edge of your bikini top, something soft in his touch.

You turn your head, watching him as he drives, golden and effortless.

“What?” he asks, side-eyeing you.

You shrug, grinning. “Just thinking about how unfair it is that you’re so pretty.”

Chris snorts, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck. “You’re one to talk, baby.”

Your life is made up of moments like this. Soft, sweet, and beautiful. All because of him.

Like the time he helped you pick your dress for junior year prom.

You’d dragged him to the boutique, standing on the fitting room pedestal while he lounged in one of the chairs, arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely out of place among the frilly pink decor.

“You know I don’t care what you wear, baby,” he’d grumbled, watching as you stepped out in another dress. “You’d look good in anything.”

“You have to care,” you insisted, spinning around so the skirt flared out. “I need honest opinions.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was something soft in his gaze as he studied you. Then he stood, walked over, and reached out to tug at the orange fabric, his fingers brushing your exposed back.

“This one,” he said simply, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “Wear this one.”

And when prom night came, when you stepped out of your house and into the golden glow of the streetlights, Chris just stood there, blinking like he forgot how to breathe.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Or the time he came on vacation with your family.

You had spent weeks convincing your parents, listing all the reasons why bringing your boyfriend wouldn’t be an issue.

“He’s basically part of the family already,” you argued.

And maybe that was true, but you were still surprised when they agreed, letting Chris tag along to your beach house rental for a week in July.

It was like a dream. Waking up to the sound of the waves, sneaking out of the room your parents assigned Chris. And especially the mornings you’d both sneak out of the house just before sunrise, Chris pulling you into the water before the world was even awake.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, legs wrapped around his waist as the tide lapped against your skin.

Chris just grinned, his hands holding you tight, safe. “Yeah. insanely in love with you.”

And then, of course, there were the lacrosse games.

You went to every single one, always in the front row, always wearing his number on your cheek in red glitter paint.

Chris had his routine. Right before a game, right before he ran onto the field, he’d find you in the crowd. You’d blow him a kiss, and he’d pretend to catch it, pressing his fingers to his lips like it was some kind of good luck charm.

“You know I have to do that, right?” he’d told you once, breathless after a win, sweat dripping down his temples. “Superstition. Can’t play without it.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, reaching up to push his damp hair out of his eyes. “So you winning is all me, huh?”

Chris grinned, looping his arms around your waist. “Exactly.” Then, without warning, he picked you up, spinning you in circles until you were shrieking with laughter. “You’re my good luck charm, sunshine.”

And then there was that time. The time that haunts you to this day. The time his parents walked in on you.

Chris’s bedroom. His hands in your hair, your nails digging into his shoulders, both of you breathless, caught up in each other, making far too much noise, until the door opened.

You didn’t even have time to react before MaryLou gasped, spinning on her heel so fast she nearly fell over.

“Jesus Christ, Christopher,” was all she said before slamming the door.

Chris just groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We’re so dead.”

The next day, he came home to a box of condoms sitting on his bed. No note. Nothing.

He held them up when you walked in, blinking like he was still in shock. “My parents hate me. I don’t know how I can ever look my mother in the eye again.”

You burst into laughter, doubling over on his bed. “I think they just don’t want grandkids yet.”

Chris groaned, tossing the box across the room. “Unbelievable.”

You had laughed then, breathless and teasing, throwing yourself back onto his bed. But that was months ago.

Chris was still driving with one hand on the wheel, the other now resting against your thigh. His fingers trace slow, lazy patterns over your skin, dipping just beneath the frayed edges of your denim shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but your body reacts like it always does. He has completely burned himself into you.

The warmth of his palm seeps into your skin, his thumb brushing back and forth, featherlight, like he’s not even thinking about it. But you know Chris, know the way his mind works, the way his hands move with purpose, even when he pretends they don’t.

You shift slightly in your seat, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to ignore the slow fire building under his touch. Chris notices, of course he notices, and his smirk deepens, barely visible in the dimming light.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks, voice smooth, teasing.

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t carry much weight. Not when your pulse is hammering against your ribs, not when the song “Rock Me” playing through the speakers seems to fit too well, like fate decided to soundtrack this exact moment.

You glance at him, and God, he’s so mesmerizing. One hand gripping the wheel, muscles taut beneath sun-kissed skin, his jaw sharp in the golden light. His lips are parted slightly, tongue running over his bottom one like he’s deep in thought.

Like he’s remembering, too.

“Do you remember summer ’09? Wanna go back there every night…”

Chris exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Remember this song?”

Your heart flutters, something deep and wanting. You know what he’s thinking.

You remember that night. It was after a lacrosse game, after driving three hours to the playoff game that he scored the game winning goal in. Somehow, you ended up tangled in his backseat, hands desperate, mouths hungry.

Your voice had been breathless against his ear. “I want you to rock me, Chris.”

And he did. Again and again and again.

The memory makes heat curl in your stomach, makes your breath catch just slightly, and Chris knows. His fingers flex against your thigh, grip tightening just enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation.

You turn to face him fully, shifting so your knee brushes against the gearshift.

“You’re such a tease,” you murmur, eyes locked onto him.

Chris grins, slow and dangerous. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His hand slides just a little higher, not quite enough, but enough.

You suck in a sharp breath, and he laughs, that soft, lazy laugh that always makes your stomach flip.

The song builds, the chorus swelling, wrapping around you both.

“I want you to hit the pedal heavy metal, show me you care…”

Chris leans in slightly, voice dropping lower. “Sing it for me, baby.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to fight the smile threatening to break free. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

He just squeezes your thigh again, dragging his fingers in slow, torturous circles. “And yet, you’re still in love with me.”

And God, you are. Wildly, recklessly, endlessly in love with him.

Chris just grins, the kind that’s all mischief and golden-boy charm, the kind that makes your stomach flip even after all this time. His fingers linger on your thigh, slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand off playfully, even though you already miss the warmth of his touch. “Pay attention to the road before we crash, golden boy.”

He snorts, but obliges, turning his focus back ahead as the Jeep glides down the quiet summer streets. The sun has nearly disappeared now, the sky shifting from honey-gold to deep navy, the kind of night that feels endless, the kind that makes you believe you’ll never have to grow up.

Then, as if reading your mind, Chris leans back, one hand lazily resting on the wheel, the other drumming against your thigh again. “You hungry?”

Your stomach growls at the mention, making him laugh, and you groan, slumping into the seat. “Shut up.”

Chris shakes his head, reaching for the console to turn down the music. “Nah, this is why I keep you around. You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

You swat at his arm, and he catches your wrist easily, pulling your knuckles to his lips for a quick, teasing kiss.

“McDonald’s?” he suggests, voice light, like he already knows the answer.

Your eyes narrow. “You just want an excuse to get a large fry and make me feed them to you while you drive.”

Chris shrugs, smirking. “And?”

And ten minutes later, you’re sitting in the McDonald’s drive-thru, Chris rattling off the usual order—two large fries, a ten-piece McNugget, a McDouble for him, and a vanilla milkshake for you. It’s routine by now, muscle memory. You don’t even have to ask for extra napkins, because Chris already grabs them, stuffing them in the glove box where he knows you’ll need them later.

The second he pulls out of the parking lot, he’s already reaching into the bag, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Hey, those are mine,” you scold, reaching over to smack his hand away.

Chris just laughs, shoving another one in his mouth before holding a fry up to your lips, eyebrows raised expectantly. You huff but take a bite anyway.

The drive back is comfortable in the way only summer nights can be. You hum along to the song he had playing on aux, dipping fries into your milkshake, and Chris sneaks sips of it every time you aren’t looking even though you secretly know he does it.

By the time you pull into his driveway, the house is quiet, the lights off except for the faint glow from the kitchen window. His parents are asleep and his brothers probably are too.

Chris shifts into park, then turns to you, smirking. “Wanna come in?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like you have to ask.”

He grins, pushing open his door before jogging around to yours, yanking it open with dramatic flair. “M’lady,” he teases, offering his hand.

You roll your eyes but take it anyway, letting him pull you out before he slams the door shut as quietly as possible. You both make your way to the side of the house, where Chris knows exactly which windows creak, which steps to avoid.

By the time you sneak upstairs and get to his bedroom, Chris is already kicking off his shoes and tossing his hat onto his desk before he goes to his closet and put on a random teeshirt.

You plop onto his bed, stealing a handful of fries from the bag. “You know,” you say between bites, “your parents definitely know we do this.”

Chris flops down beside you, pressing his head into your shoulder dramatically. “Yeah, well, after the whole condom thing, I think they’ve just accepted it.”

You laugh, turning your face into his hair, inhaling the faint scent of saltwater. “You’re never getting over that, huh?”

Chris groans. “I still can’t look my mother in the eye sometimes. It’s so awkward. She definitely saw my dick.”

“She birthed and raised you. She’s already seen you naked.” You laugh.

“Yeah but that’s different!” He exclaims in a whisper, digging his head even further into your shoulder.

You laugh, before setting the food aside and turning toward him fully. He lifts his head from you and his eyes flicker to yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades. The room is dimly lit, the only glow coming from his bedside lamp, casting everything in a soft, golden hue.

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of your tangled beachy hair behind your ear. “You tired?”

You shake your head, voice softer now. “No.”

Chris nods, thumb grazing the curve of your cheek before he leans in, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips. It’s not hurried, not rushed like it so often is. It’s sweet, gentle- like he’s savoring it, savoring you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he murmurs.

You smile, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. “I love you too, baby.”

Chris exhales softly, his breath warm against your lips, his hands never leaving your skin.

His thumb strokes gently over your cheekbone, tracing invisible patterns like he’s memorizing you all over again.

You lean in first this time, tilting your chin just enough to capture his lips again. It’s slow. So slow, like neither of you are in any rush, like you have forever to get lost in each other. His mouth moves with yours effortlessly, no desperation, no urgency. Just warmth. Just love.

Chris sighs into the kiss, pulling you closer, his hands sliding down to your waist, fingers pressing into the soft skin below your bikini.

You shift, pressing yourself closer, and he groans softly in response, deep in his throat. The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his t-shirt.

He feels so good, smells so good, and you could stay here forever, tangled in him.

Chris tilts his head, deepening the kiss just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. His hand spreads even further across the warm expanse of your back, his touch setting fire to your skin.

You sigh against his lips, melting into him as his other hand skims up your thigh. His fingertips brush along the frayed hem of your shorts, not pushing, just feeling, just reveling in the warmth of you.

When you pull back for air, his lips chase yours, barely letting you breathe before he’s pressing soft, lazy kisses along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

“Chris,” you whisper, and he hums against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You don’t answer, just tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans again, a sound that always makes your stomach tighten, makes your thighs squeeze around his hips.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping gently as he guides you into his lap, settling you over him like you belong there- like he’s been waiting for this, for you, all night.

You both pause, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync.

His hands are steady on you, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin, and when he looks up at you, his eyes are heavy, dark with something deeper than just desire.

Love.

“I jus’ wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs, voice thick, fingers tracing along your spine. “Wanna kiss you slow. Wanna make you feel good.”

Your heart stutters, your body burning with something softer than lust, something heavier than need.

You press another kiss to his lips. Slow and deep and meaningful.

“Then do it.” you whisper against his mouth.

Chris doesn’t need to be told twice.

The moment the words leave your lips, he groans deep and low, something that rumbles through his chest and straight into your core. His hands tighten on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he tilts his head and devours you.

The softness melts into something new, something desperate and raw as he kisses you harder, mouth parting against yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before slipping inside. It’s slow, but there’s an edge now- a hunger, a need.

His hands slide up your back, slipping beneath your bikini top, his thumbs grazing over your ribs and to the front, right over the softest parts of you. You shudder, pressing closer, gasping when he bites your lip, tugging just enough to make your stomach clench.

“Chris,” you breathe, and he hums before flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

His body is heavy over yours, deliciously warm, his hips pressing into you as his lips move down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and kissing until your skin is marked with his touch.

You arch into him, hands gripping at his back, before pulling at the hem of teeshirt. He gets the hint pretty quickly and rips it off before diving right back into you.

“You make me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, lips ghosting over your collarbone before he’s tugging at the strings of your bikini top, undoing them with agonizing slowness.

You shiver, anticipation burning through you as his hands slide beneath the fabric, pushing it aside, palms gliding over your bare skin.

Chris exhales harshly, pulling back just enough to look at you. To really look at you. His pupils are blown, lips swollen from kissing you, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to keep himself under control.

“Goddamn,” he breathes, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before his mouth is on you again, his head trailing lower, lower, leaving a path of heat down your torso.

Your back arches when his lips brush against your nipples, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly.

“Chris,” you gasp, breathless, already wrecked from just his mouth, his hands, the way he touches you.

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick, grinning with mischief. “I wanna hear you say it.”

You bite your lip, hips shifting beneath him, your body begging for more, but Chris is waiting, his eyes locked onto yours, watching every reaction, every little movement you make.

So you give him what he wants.

“I want you to rock me,” you whisper.

Chris groans, dropping his forehead against your stomach for half a second, like your words just wrecked him.

Then, he looks up at you, and his expression is nothing but pure, unfiltered lust.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “Anything you want.”

Chris’s lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat down your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. His hands are everywhere but they’re so fucking slow and deliberate. His fingers tracing over your hips, brushing the frayed hem of your shorts. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and wanting.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. “Can I take these off?” he murmurs, voice low, rough with restraint.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

“Need you to say it, baby.”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but it’s all he needs.

Chris groans softly, dragging the denim down your legs, the slow feeling of fabric moving against your heated skin making your core wetter. When he finally tosses them aside, his eyes roam over you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he can’t believe you’re real.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands sliding up your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then higher, higher.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, breath coming in uneven pants as he moves closer, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Baby,” you breathe, and he hums in response, lips brushing against the last piece of fabric between you.

You lift your hips instinctively, silently begging, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “So impatient,” he teases, but his voice is thick, strained and you can tell he’s just as desperate as you.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, dragging them down with the same agonizing slowness, his lips following the path they leave behind. When they’re finally gone, when there’s nothing left between you, he just looks at you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for him.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” he murmurs, completely wrecked and full of nothing but love.

A gasp rips from your throat as his mouth moves against you, soft and slow and perfect.

His tongue slides up and down your folds, separating them and pushing his face even deeper into you if possible.

His hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as his tongue finds flicks against the most sensitive part of you, drawing a moan from your lips that makes him groan in response.

He loves this. Loves the way you tremble beneath him, the way you say his name like it’s the only thing you know.

“Chris- fuck.” Your fingers find his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against you, the vibration sending sparks down your spine.

He takes his time, savoring every reaction, every shaky breath, every whisper of his name. It’s slow and unhurried, like he wants to memorize you, like he needs to.

His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes at first, teasing, tasting, savoring every inch of you. He groans into you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound alone is almost enough to make you fall apart.

But you don’t want it to end yet. And neither does he.

His nose presses against your clit at such a delicious angle as his tongue moves in and out of you, setting a ruthless pace- the pace he knows you need, the one that drives you crazy, the one that has your thighs shaking against his shoulders.

Chris moans against you, gripping your hips harder, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough. Like he needs you more than air.

And God, he’s so deep, his face buried between your thighs, the heat of his mouth sending sparks all through your body. You’re gasping, your fingers tugging at his hair, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

You whimper, arching against his tongue, and the cocky bastard grins against you before diving back in, licking into you like it’s his last meal.

“Chris,” you gasp, voice wrecked, breathless.

His grip on you tightens, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Mmm?” he hums, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

You whimper again, unable to form words, unable to do anything but take what he’s giving you.

Chris pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, pupils blown. He smirks, dragging two fingers through your slick folds before slipping them inside, curling them just right, making you cry out.

“There we go,” he murmurs, watching your face twist in pleasure. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

You can barely breathe, barely think, as he starts moving his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, his mouth returning to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking softly before licking over again and again.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging hard, and he moans into you.

“Baby,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out.

Chris just grins against you, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers thrusting deeper.

And fuck, you’re so close but he knows your body too well. Knows exactly when to stop, exactly when to pull back, leaving you on the edge, aching for more.

You whine in protest, hips bucking up to chase his mouth, but Chris just smirks, pressing a teasing kiss to your inner thigh.

“Not yet, ma,” he murmurs, voice dark, wrecked. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Moments later he dives right back in. His tongue is everywhere, working in you with slow, teasing flicks one second and deep, dragging strokes the next. His fingers pump into you at a perfect pace, curling just right, pressing into that spongy spot that has you moaning his name like a prayer.

He loves it when you moan his name. Loves the way your body responds to him, the way your thighs twitch around his head, the way you can’t stop moving and arching into his touch, chasing his mouth, desperate for more.

Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging, pulling, and he groans against you, pushing you further into the mattress at the same time without even thinking about it.

The vibrations shoot through your core, send a spark of electricity down your spine, and suddenly, you’re right there. Right on the edge, breath coming in broken gasps, body trembling.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he doubles down, fingers fucking into you harder, his tongue relentless, determined to push you over that final edge.

“That’s it, mama,” he murmurs, words muffled against your soaked skin. “Give it to me. Wanna hear you.”

His voice is practically a moan that’s full of pure need, and that’s what does it. His voice, his mouth, his hands- everything.

Your body seizes up, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as the orgasm crashes over you, hard. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, your back arching off the bed, your thighs tightening around his head, but Chris doesn’t stop.

He groans as he licks you through it, his hands gripping your shaking thighs, his tongue still working you over, dragging every last bit of pleasure from your body until you’re whimpering, too sensitive, too overstimulated to take any more.

You tug at his hair, trying to pull him away, but he presses one last kiss against your soaked skin before finally, finally lifting his head.

Chris looks like he just fell from heaven. His lips are swollen, glistening, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in ragged pants.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning as he moves up your body, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone.

When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You sigh against his mouth, fingers still tangled in his hair, your body boneless beneath him.

Chris chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Goddamn, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “You’re so fucking hot when you come on my mouth.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch your breath, and Chris just kisses you again.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your hip.

You were still feeling the after effects of your orgasm, chest rising and falling rapidly, skin burning from his touch, his mouth, him. But as the haze of pleasure started to clear, you noticed something else, something that made heat flood your stomach all over again.

Chris was rubbing himself against the mattress.

It was subtle, but once you saw it, you couldn’t not see it. The way his hips pressed into the bed, slow and desperate, his breathing just a little too uneven, his grip on you just a little too tight. His jaw was clenched, brows furrowed, his body tense like he was trying to hold himself back.

“Chris,” you whisper, realization hitting you all at once.

Chris huffs out a breathless laugh, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, like maybe he could hide from how completely fucking gone he is for you.

“Shut up,” he mutters, voice strained, like he’s embarrassed, like he can’t help it.

You feel another rush of heat pool between your legs, because fuck, he looks so good like this. Flushed and desperate, still clothed while you’re bare beneath him, his self-control hanging by a thread.

“You get off on eating me out?” you tease, running your nails lightly down his back, feeling the way he shudders at the touch.

Chris groans, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Ma-”

Your fingers dip lower, tracing the waistband of his swim trunks, and his whole body jerks, his hips pressing down harder into the bed.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut, but it does nothing to hide the way he ruts into the mattress again, like he needs it.

You grin, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re so hot when you’re needy.”

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips harder, like he’s trying to keep himself from losing it. “I’m about two seconds away from ruining these fucking shorts,” he admits, voice whinny.

You shiver at his words, your own arousal sparking all over again. “Then take them off.”

Chris swears under his breath, kissing you hard, all tongue and teeth and desperation.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours as his fingers fumble with the waistband of his trunks. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You giggle breathlessly, helping him push them down, and the second he’s free, you feel just how much he had been holding back, how worked up he is.

And God, you want him so bad.

Chris presses his lips to your jaw, your neck, everywhere, his body hovering over yours, his hand wrapping around himself as he exhales a shuddering breath.

Then, he looks down at you, pupils blown, expression full of nothing but pure, unfiltered hunger as you wrap a hand around his girthy length.

Chris groans, deep and guttural, his forehead pressing against yours as your words sink into his skin like fire. His fingers twitch against your waist, gripping just a little harder, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice wrecked, desperate. “Don’t do that. I’ll finish way too fast.”

You simply laugh but oblige, taking your hand off him. “You always say that but then last all goddamn night.”

He simply smiles down at you. And then he’s kissing you, messy and deep, his body pressing into yours, his hands roaming everywhere and gripping your thighs, your hips, your ribs, like he can’t get enough.

You whimper against his lips, still sensitive, still pulsing from the high he just pulled from your body, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

Chris must feel the way you shift beneath him, the way your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, because he grins against your mouth, his hips pressing down just enough to make you gasp.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, voice rough, laced with something dark and needy.

You nod, breathless, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Chris chuckles, low and knowing, his lips trailing down your jaw, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“You’re so greedy,” he murmurs, nipping at your throat, making you shiver. “So fucking sweet.”

His hands skim down your body, fingertips dancing over your waist before settling on your hips. His touch is warm, steady, as he spreads your legs further, settling between them like he belongs there. He knows he does.

Your heart is pounding, anticipation burning through your veins as he shifts, pressing his length against you, dragging his tip through your slick folds, teasing you, making you ache.

You whimper, tilting your hips up, desperate for more, and Chris moans, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“God, baby,” he rasps, rolling his hips just right, making your head tip back against the pillows. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You whine, fingers clutching at his back, nails digging in just enough to make him shudder.

“Chris,” you breathe, voice wrecked, full of want.

He exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours again, his hips rolling into yours at a slow, torturous pace.

“I got you, mama,” he murmurs, voice softer now, full of something deeper, something more.

And then he pushes inside you, slow and steady, stretching you perfectly, filling you inch by inch, until he’s buried deep, his chest heaving, his body trembling against yours.

Your breath catches, pleasure coiling through you at the sheer feeling of him.

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips tight, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, voice muffled against your skin. “You feel so good. So tight.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his temple.

“Move,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath.

Chris lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours. And then he rocks into you. Slow, deep, intentional.

His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you closer, pushing in deeper, making you feel everything.

You sigh into his mouth, body melting into his, completely lost in him, in this, in everything you are together.

Chris groans, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his movements slow and torturous.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs, hips rolling faster, voice thick with emotion, with need. “So fucking much.”

You gasp, clinging to him, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Chris moans at that, his pace picking up just slightly, just enough to make your toes curl, just enough to make you feel the depth of his love, his devotion, his everything.

The world outside ceases to exist but Chris doesn’t stop.

Not after you moan his name like it’s the only word you know. Not after your nails rake down his back, leaving behind marks that will be there for days. Not after he kisses you, slow and deep, like he wants to drown in you.

Not after he pulls another orgasm from you, his name spilling from your lips in a broken, desperate cry as your body clenches around him in a way that was almost painful.

If anything, it only makes him hungrier.

His lips never leave yours, even as he rides you through it, even as he groans into your mouth, hips stuttering, body trembling. But he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop.

He won’t stop until he’s given you everything.

Until the summer heat isn’t the only thing making you sweat. Until the only thing you can think about is him. The way he fills you, the way he ruins you, the way he worships you like you’re the only thing he’s ever believed in.

Chris exhales a ragged breath against your lips, slowing his thrusts just enough to make you shiver. His forehead presses against yours, his body heavy against you, but not in a way that suffocates. In a way that makes you feel safe. In a way that makes you feel like his.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, voice rough, wrecked.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

Chris pulls back slightly, searching your face, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. “Talk to me,” he whispers.

You swallow hard, your fingers tracing down his spine, reveling in the way he shudders beneath your touch. “I want more.”

Chris groans, low and needy, like your words just broke him completely. “Fuck,” he breathes, his grip tightening on your hips. Then he flips you over.

You gasp, a surprised giggle slipping from your lips before Chris cuts it off with a kiss, pressing you into the mattress, his body covering yours. His hand slides up your spine, trailing goosebumps in its wake, before tangling in your hair, tilting your head to the side as his lips move to your neck.

“You sure you can handle another round?” he teases, dragging his teeth along your pulse point, making you whimper.

“Yes please,” you breathe.

Chris chuckles darkly against your skin, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the base of your neck before rolling his hips forward, sliding back inside you with ease.

You both moan at the feeling, the delicious stretch, the way your bodies mold together perfectly.

Chris grips your waist, holding you steady as he starts moving again, slow but deep, drawing out every sound he can.

“You feel so good, baby,” he mutters, voice husky, full of reverence. “So fucking tight and wet.”

Your head falls forward, pleasure sparking through every inch of you, your thighs trembling as Chris pounds into you, his name slipping from your lips like a mantra.

His pace picks up, hips snapping against yours, the headboard knocking softly against the wall with each thrust, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of your moans and his ragged breaths despite the fact his entire family lay sleeping behind the walls.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, overstimulated, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris’s hand drifts lower, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you in place as he ruins you.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with want. “Give me one more.”

And you do. Your body tightens around him, your head falling back onto his shoulder as another orgasm crashes through you, sending sparks down your spine, making you tremble in his arms.

Chris groans, his grip tightening as he follows, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering moan, his body stiffening, then relaxing against you.

Silence settles between you for a moment, the only sound being the heavy rise and fall of your breaths.

Then Chris laughs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, arms still wrapped around you.

“You’re actually gonna kill me,” he mumbles, voice hoarse, spent.

You smile, turning your head slightly to catch his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Guess I’ll have to bring you back to life,” you whisper against his mouth and within seconds he has you flipped on your back and has slipped inside you, cock already hard again.

His skin warm and slick with sweat. His breath is heavy against your cheek, his lips barely ghosting over your jaw as he tries to steady himself, tries to regain control.

But there’s no control here.

Not when you’re beneath him, body still trembling from the pleasure he just wrung out of you, looking at him with those wide, needy eyes, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like you need him just as badly as he needs you.

Chris groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin lazily, but keeping himself buried inside you because he can’t pull away.

“I can’t stop,” he admits, voice low, desperate. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider, tilting your hips up just enough to make you whimper. “I don’t want to stop.”

You tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze, your fingers tangling in his messy, sweat-damp hair.

“Then don’t,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.

And fuck, that’s all it takes.

Chris kisses you hard, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts moving again. He sets a deep, steady rhythm, pushing into you, filling you completely, making you feel every inch of him.

Your back arches, hands clutching at his shoulders, nails raking down his back, and Chris groans, rutting into you harder, deeper.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters against your lips, hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread as he rocks into you, slow and deep, like he needs you to feel this, to know how much he wants you.

Your head tips back against the pillow, a whimper slipping from your lips, and Chris takes the opportunity to drag his tongue down your neck, sucking and kissing, leaving marks he knows you’ll complain about tomorrow.

His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks, making you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist.

Chris grins, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You’re so fucking sensitive, ma,” he teases, voice wrecked. “Still not over the first one, huh?”

You shake, legs trembling, body overstimulated but still aching for more.

“Chris,” you breathe, tugging him closer.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts, dragging out every ounce of pleasure.

“Say it,” he mutters, voice dark, demanding. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches, your nails digging into his arms as he keeps going, his pace slow but ruinous, building you up again, bringing you to that edge.

“More,” you gasp.

Chris smirks, but there’s nothing cocky about it this time. It’s adoration, it’s pure fucking need.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “Then take it, baby.”

Chris snaps his hips forward, thrusting into you harder, his fingers pressing against your clit, pushing you higher, closer, and you can feel it. You can practically taste the pleasure you were so fucking close.

“Cum for me, ma,” Chris whispers, his voice wrecked, full of love, full of you.

You cum hard, your body clenching around him, your back arching off the bed, your head falling back as you cry out, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the billionth time today.

Chris groans, his pace faltering, his grip on your body tightening as he watches you fall apart beneath him, as he feels you squeeze around him, pulling him deeper, dragging him with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- mama” he mutters, his movements growing sloppy, desperate. He thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep before he shatters, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he spills inside you again, pressing his forehead to yours, his lips brushing your cheek.

You both stay like that for a moment, tangled together, skin slick, hearts pounding, chests heaving.

Then, Chris chuckles breathlessly, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips and pulling out.

“Round three?” he teases, smirking against your mouth.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate.

The second the words leave your mouth, he kisses you. Deep, slow, filthy. Like he’s already planning on making good on his round three comment. His hands slide up your sides, warm and steady, fingers brushing over your ribs before cupping your face, holding you there like you’re his entire world.

And you knew you were.

Your body still burns from everything he’s already done to you, but you want more. You need more. You can feel him pressed against you, still hard, still ready, and it sends another pulse of heat straight to your core.

Chris groans as your nails scrape down his back, his hips shifting against yours, already chasing that friction. His breath is ragged when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead pressed to yours, his pupils blown even wider, his lips swollen and wet from kissing you.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he mutters, voice wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer, pressing his length against your slick heat that’s covered in two rounds of both yours and his cum.

You grin, breathless. “And you love it.”

Chris lets out a dark chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw, down your neck, sucking another mark into your skin just because he can.

“Damn right, I do,” he murmurs, shifting above you, lining himself up, dragging the tip of his cock through your cum covered folds, making you whimper.

Your body shakes, overstimulated but aching for him again, and Chris feels it. He feels how sensitive you are, how badly you need him.

“I love fucking my cum back into you,” he groans, his voice full of something dark, something possessive. “God, and you’re still so tight.”

You whimper, tilting your hips up, and Chris chuckles, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips.

“Still so desperate, too” he murmurs. You roll your eyes, tugging him down, biting at his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Just fuck me already.”

Chris laughs, but it’s rough, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he mutters but sinks into you nonetheless. It was slow and deep, stretching you all over again, making your eyes roll back and having your nails dig into his shoulders as he fills you completely.

Chris groans, his head dropping to your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes. “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

You whimper, still sensitive, still ruined from him, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris lifts his head, tilting your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Look at me, ma,” he murmurs. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

And fuck, the way he watches you as he starts moving, the way his eyes burn into yours as his hips roll in deep, deliberate thrusts- it’s enough to destroy you.

He drags it out, keeping his pace slow, making sure you feel everything, making sure you need him as much as he needs you.

“Chris,” you gasp, legs tightening around his waist, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, and he moans, his hips stuttering just slightly.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “So beautiful. So fucking mine.”

You shiver, the possessiveness in his voice making another wave of heat crash over you, making your stomach tighten with pleasure.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he speeds up just slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“Gonna cum for me again, baby?” he murmurs, his fingers slipping between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles. “Gonna let me feel you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to speak, barely able to breathe, the pleasure building so fast.

“Say it,” Chris demands, voice dark, hungry. “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“You,” you gasp, barely able to get the words out. “You, Chris- fuck, I-”

You shatter before you could even finish your sentence. It’s intense, your entire body shaking, pleasure ripping through you harder than it ever has, your hands clinging to him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Chris groans as you tighten around him with such power, his movements growing sloppy and desperate. And then he’s there too, his hips stuttering, his body tensing before he lets go, burying himself deep, moaning your name way too loudly as he spills inside you.

Chris collapses beside you, breath still ragged, body still warm and sticky from everything you just did. His arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you into him, like he physically can’t be apart from you yet. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your damp skin.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, just basking in the quiet, in the aftermath, in the absolute mess you’ve made of each other.

Then Chris shifts slightly, adjusting his body when he suddenly feels it.

His lips twitch, his fingers gripping your thigh as he slowly drags them up, grazing over the sticky mess between your legs.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement.

You hum sleepily against his chest, barely registering the shift in his tone. “Hmm?”

Chris grins, tilting his head slightly to glance down at you, his fingertips brushing against the inside of your thigh again, feeling the both of your cum still leaking out of you.

“You’re dripping,” he murmurs, his tone smug as hell, his fingers teasing as he lightly traces over the mess he left inside you.

Your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as you immediately squeeze your legs together, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Chris!” you shove at his chest, your voice shrill with embarrassment, but he’s grinning now, the tiredness in his eyes replaced with something cocky, something full of pure male satisfaction.

“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his fingers up your thigh again, spreading the wetness slightly just to watch you squirm. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your face burns, and you slap at his arm, kicking at the sheets. “Chris, get something to clean it before I kill you!”

Chris just laughs, looking absolutely pleased with himself, shaking his head as he presses a slow, teasing kiss to your forehead.

“Relax, mama,” he murmurs, but he’s already moving, slipping out of bed, stretching his arms above his head before sauntering off to the bathroom completely naked, because of course he is.

You bury your face in your hands, groaning as you hear him rummaging through the cabinets. “I hate you so much.”

Chris’s laugh echoes from the bathroom. “You love me.”

You roll your eyes, still burning with embarrassment, but when he returns with a warm washcloth, his expression softens. He kneels on the bed beside you, gently running the cloth over your thighs, taking his time, making sure he’s thorough.

His fingers brush over your skin, slow and warm, and suddenly, you’re not embarrassed anymore. Suddenly, it’s just Chris. Your golden boy, your love, the boy who takes care of you even when he’s teasing the hell out of you.

When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth into the laundry bin, slipping back into bed, pulling you against his chest once more.

“Better?” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair.

You sigh, melting into his warmth. “Better.”

Chris chuckles. “Good. ‘Cause I’m still gonna remind you of this in the morning.”

Before you could reply, Chris inhales a panicked breath and mutters, “Shit, I’m gonna need to buy you like seven Plan B’s tomorrow.”

You snort, laughter bubbling past your lips as you roll onto your side, draping an arm over his chest. “Seven? You planning on going another few rounds in your sleep?”

Chris grins, brushing his fingers up and down your spine. “I mean, if you’re up for it…”

You swat at his chest, making him chuckle, but then your grin turns wicked, teasing. “Your mom is definitely gonna be disappointed that we didn’t use the condoms she bought for you.”

Chris groans, covering his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ, don’t remind me.”

You giggle, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She literally walked in on us once, Chris. She knows you’re not a virgin.”

Chris peeks at you from between his fingers, giving you a deadpan look. “Yeah, and I still can’t look her in the eye.”

You smirk, resting your chin on his chest. “I think she was just trying to be supportive. Making sure her son’s being safe and all.”

Chris grumbles, shaking his head. “She left them on my bed, Y/N. With no note. Just a silent here, please stop traumatizing me moment.”

You burst into laughter, curling into his side as he groans dramatically. “Aw, baby, your mom just wants what’s best for you.”

Chris scoffs. “She probably heard all that too and is currently regretting every decision she’s ever made.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before whispering, “I think she’s just proud her son has stamina.”

Chris lets out a strangled noise before flipping you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, tickling your sides until you’re screeching with laughter.

“Oh, you’re funny, huh?” he teases, grinning down at you as you squirm beneath him. “You think you’re so fucking hilarious.”

“Chris- stop!” you wheeze between laughs, kicking your legs as he keeps going.

Eventually, he relents, rolling off of you with a satisfied smirk. You’re still giggling, breathless, and Chris watches you with this soft look, like he’s completely and utterly gone for you. And you know he is.

Then he sighs, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, sitting up and reaching for the hem of the t-shirt he tossed onto the floor earlier. “Let’s get you fully cleaned up.”

You hum in contentment as he helps you sit up, grabbing another rag from his nightstand and running it gently between your thighs, collecting more of your release that spilled out. The whole time, his eyes stay locked on yours, full of something deep, something warm.

When he’s done, he grabs one of his t-shirts from his drawer that was soft, oversized, and smelling exactly like him and slips it over your head, his fingers brushing over your skin as he helps you adjust it.

“There,” he murmurs, voice low, fond. “My girl in my shirt. Fucking perfect.”

You smile, curling into his chest as he tugs the covers over both of you. His arms wrap around you tightly, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your back.

You sigh, completely melted into him, your body still humming with the remnants of everything he’s given you tonight. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, his heartbeat steady, grounding.

Chris presses a slow, lingering kiss to your hair, his fingers continuing their soft path over your spine, tracing lazy, absentminded patterns like he never wants to stop touching you.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs against your forehead, his voice thick with exhaustion but still full of that quiet, unwavering care.

You nod, nuzzling closer, your legs tangling with his beneath the sheets. “Mhm. Perfect.”

Chris exhales softly, tucking you even closer somehow, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.

“Good,” he whispers, his lips brushing over your temple. “Gotta take care of my girl.”

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming inside you at how soft he is now, how different this moment is from the desperate, hungry way he had fucked you just minutes ago.

This is what you love about Chris.

That he’s wild and reckless and cocky, but then he’s this, too. He’s gentle, protective, utterly devoted in a way that makes you feel so unbelievably safe.

Your fingers rub absentmindedly against his chest, your eyes growing heavy, exhaustion slowly pulling you under.

Chris hums, his breath slowing, his hold on you never faltering.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead again, soft and lingering. “I got you.”

And with that, wrapped up in his warmth, in his love, in him, you finally let sleep take you, safe in the arms of the boy who always has you and always will have you.

[myobscuredmindd]

✎ 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐬 ✯ 𝐦.𝐬 𝐰𝐜. 𝟏.𝟏𝐤 [𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭]

you weren’t sure what to make of his request when he initially brought up silent sex, looking at him with a confused expression as you asked why – since you two weren’t at his place where his brothers could hear you. you knew your boyfriend had his fair share of kinks and fetishes, but this was not what you expected to hear when he sat you down for intimacy. matt simply smiled sheepishly and mumbled "just this once, please?"

your confused expression softened into a soft smile, finding his nervousness somewhat endearing. you weren’t going to say no, in fact, it turned you on more than you expected. feeling your undies slowly soak, you bit your lips and shifted your position on the bed, subconsciously easing the tension on your clothed clit.

"yeah... just this once." is what you told him, but the moment he started the foreplay all while having his hand over your mouth—you knew you were done for. the feeling of his tongue lapping at your puffy clit, all while effectively keeping you silenced with his hand made your core ache with the need to be filled.

matt smiled against your pussy when he felt just how aroused you were today, your inner walls pushing out more of your arousal for him to clean up. he moaned against your folds, as pussy-drunk as always as he ate you out slowly, but good enough to make your thighs tense around his head. your fingers carded through his hair, back arching as you tried to keep quiet for him. the feeling of his hand press firmly on the lower half of your face made you somewhat more alert thus adding to the pleasure.

a minute or so more of his mouth on you and you were already a needy mess, begging him to fill you up. matt could feel his cock twitch every time a whine of his name left your pretty lips muffled by his hand. his mind reeled with excitement from the possibility of getting caught, despite it just being you two in your apartment. he was already hooked on silent sex more than he was before.

"oh, you’re so wet f’me, so fucking ready to take me in ain't you?" he rose up, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand as his other fumbled with his belt. smirking at the small whine leaving you from the loss of contact as he quickly discarded his pants somewhere on the floor beside the bed, not even bothering to take off his briefs fully as he gripped the base of his hefty length, the waistband of his briefs down just below his sack.

matt spit on his hand and gave himself a few good pumps to spread his saliva as lubricant even though he knew you were probably so slick and slippery already. it isn’t a secret between you both, matt loved it when he could hear the wet squelching from the slickness. he positioned the head of his cock against your slick folds, running it up and down your slit teasingly before slowly pushing the tip inside. groaning lowly at the feeling of your eager walls sucking him in.

"fu—ck, you’re pulling me in so tightly," he hissed through clenched teeth, slowly feeding your sopping pussy more of his length before finally bottoming out. his eyes rolled back briefly from the tight warmth enveloping all of his aching cock. he looked at you through hooded eyes-lids as he leaned further down, wrapping your legs around his waist and opening you up more so he could go even deeper.

you locked your ankles behind him, pulling him closer, looking at him with fluttering lashes and slightly parted lips. he was quick to cover your mouth when he started to move, muffling your sounds of pleasure once more. he wasn’t exactly being slow and gentle—no, quite the opposite. In fact, the bedframe slammed against the wall in rhythm with his pounding.

your lashes fluttered as your eyeballs rolled back into your skull, the feeling of the thick tip of his cock mercilessly slamming into your cervix had you screaming into his hand. you shut your eyes closed, your hands scrambling up to clutch onto the arm that muffled your sounds. quiet profanities left his lips along with low moans as his cock rutted into you, the sounds of your weeping pussy getting rammed by his hard cock filled both your ears—making your orgasms approach rapidly.

you slowly opened your eyes, now filled with unshed tears of pleasure. your gaze lazily raked over his handsome face etched with bliss, and his arm... you almost came just from the sight of his tattoo covered arm, his veins popping out more than usual and muscles tensing as he covered your mouth all while fucking you like there was no tomorrow. matt chuckled breathlessly, "you’re s’close ain’t you, sweets, can feel ya clinging onto me." he rasped as his pace quickened.

you couldn’t do anything but nod your head, a hand coming down to rub your clit furiously in time with his thrusts. he shivered when he saw your hand working yourself closer, the sight proving to be too erotic for him at the moment. his face scrunched up in ecstasy, "fu-ck, ’m s’close, right there—mffh, gonna fill you up—fill you up so good," he babbled as he jackhammered into you, his head falling down to rest on your shoulder.

your whole body trembled when the pressure finally erupted, your vision whitening out at the corners, back arching and nails digging into his forearm. the moment matt felt your velvet walls fluttering rhythmically around his shaft all while pulling him in—he knew he was done for. he moaned your name in pure unadulterated pleasure as he slammed into you a few more times before stilling.

a soft satisfied sigh left you when you felt his warm seed deep inside you, the feeling of fullness filling your senses. matt finally let himself collapse on top of you, the weight heavy but not unwelcoming. his hand eventually left your mouth and he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts, breathing in your scent and leaving a few chaste kisses there.

"mm... i love you, love you so much," he murmured against your skin, making you smile softly. matt sighed contentedly when your fingers ran through his soft locks and grazed his scalp. "i love you too, so, so much," he relaxed against you when your words registered in his brain, a happy smile plastering on his lips as he held you close, closing his eyes to relish in the afterglow.

୨୧

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover

© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚

[myobscuredmindd]

✎ 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐟 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐳𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬

"you’re so warm." chris whispered in your ear as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him. the slight movement made his cock go deeper in your slippery cunt, eliciting a small quiet moan from you.

you hissed in a deep breath, trying not to lose your composure as you typed on your computer, telling your curious colleagues that due to technical difficulties you were unable to turn on your camera and microphone.

"chris, don’t move so much," you sighed before adding, "and stop purposely going deeper—" your hands fisted on your keyboard, eyes closing shut and eyebrows knitting together for a moment when he did the opposite of what you asked for and pulled you down more.

chuckling in a raspy voice as his hands caressed your thighs, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on your skin. "you said you’d just keep it in there!" you whisper-yelled, and even though you had your mic turned off, you couldn’t help but glance at the mic icon every now and then to see if it’s still off.

"well, can’t really blame me when you’re suckin’ me in like that." he whispered, nipping your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine. his left arm wrapped around your waist from behind and his right hand snaked up and groped your breast. "so soft," he cooed, grinning as he laid his cheek on your shoulder.

"how’d i get into this?" you mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes when he squeezed your breast repeatedly. "these are so squishy ma, can i take your shirt off? wanna feel ’em."

"you are feeling them, i’m in a meeting call chris—" "please? pretty please? please, please, please?" he cut you off, playfully repeating pleas, laughing to himself afterwards.

"alright— fine, just--just stop moving so much, i can’t focus." chris grinned triumphantly as he lifted the hem of your thin square neck shirt, pulling it up until it was scrunched up over your tits. he hummed happily as he pulled your bra down, letting your breasts spill out.

"mhm, love your tits baby, so beautiful." he said in a sing-song tone as his hands went up to fondle your bare tits.

✩ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✩

before you knew it, you were getting your brains fucked out by chris. your moans were uncontrollable, your hands gripping anything it could. the mic had turned on due to your hand accidentally grazing the button while trying to find something to hold onto as leverage.

yeah... tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.

୨୧

𝐰𝐜. 𝟒𝟏𝟕

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns

© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚

[myobscuredmindd]

☆ pepsi-flavored lips - c.s

c/w: fluff, kissing, swearing, i think that's it??

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

you hadn't thought much of it when you picked up the pepsi-flavored chapstick from the nearby store, taking it like an impulse buy—something silly to throw into your bag at the checkout. sure, it was cheap and a little kitschy, but it reminded you of chris. hell, he practically had pepsi running through his veins at that point.

and it had to be the best purchase you had ever made because chris was fucking obsessed.

it started with an unassuming kiss—a quick, fleeting one as he flopped down next to you on the couch of your shared house with him and his brothers, nestling his arm around you.

"hey," he said, leaning in to press his lips against yours like a habit before pulling back, turning his attention to the rom-com you were watching, subconsciously rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

his movements halted, his brows furrowing. you glanced at him, anticipating an explanation. he turned to face you, his tongue darting out to swipe across his lips. "wait. what the hell?"

you glanced at him. "what?" you asked, fegning innocence. "i thought i finished the last can 'f pepsi, kid." chris narrowed his eyes at you, a sly grin slowly forming on his face.

"you did, chris." you replied, amused at his reaction. "then why'd ya' taste like pepsi, ma?" he asked, piecing the information together.

"i really have no idea, ch-" you were cut off by his lips brushing against yours again—for longer this time. he pulled back, his eyes alight with joy like a kid in a toy store. "you fuckin' liar."

your laughter was immediate, bubbling out of you in surprise. you reached into your pocket, and fished out the small tube of chapstick. "it's chapstick, christopher. pepsi-flavored. see? it's really not that deep. i'm not stealing your pepsi, dude."

your boyfriend snatched the chapstick out of your hands, squinting his eyes to read the small label out loud, grinning from ear to ear. "why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"baby, it's just-" before you could complete your sentence, he lunged at you, attacking your lips with his soft ones. "you taste like pepsi," he muttered against your lips, his voice filled with awe.

you pulled away, giggling. "i think that's the point, chris." you pushed his hair out of his face. "best fuckin' purchase ever, ma," he let the chapstick fall onto the sofa and leaned in once more.

you laughed as he caged you against the couch cushions. his hands found your waist as he pressed his lips to yours again, this time slow and deliberate, savoring the flavor like he was tasting the cola from the can itself.

"you're insane," you mumbled, the grin tugging at your lips giving you away. "and you're delicious. you're wearin' this forever, y' know that, right?" he shot back, not missing a beat. "fuck, i'm buying this for you in bulk, kid."

shaking your head at his playful words, you couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. a rush of affection overtook you, and without thinking, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss, hard and unapologetic.

"fuckin' pepsi-flavored lips."

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

a/n: him accusing reader of stealing his pepsi is CRAZY work

wc: 532

[myobscuredmindd]

makeouts batman!matt

black face paint shouldn't be this difficult to apply. it's one simple step, a step that keeps getting interrupted by your handsy boyfriend. the way his hands crept over your bare waist while you stand above him trying to give him the final touches of his halloween costume. quite a distraction. "matt cmon let me focus" you semi-scold. the strands of damp hair fell out of your grip with your scolding, putting another interruption in your way.

the cold breeze in the room hit your midriff as your shirt lifted with the movement of your arms. the hold you had on his hair tightened as you readjusted it, ensuring that no strands were loose. matt squeezed your flesh as you tugged at his hair, wincing at the unexpected sting on his scalp. "that's what you get now stay still" you chuckle, moving your focus to his right eye. a smile plastered on his lips as you continued, the pads of your fingers tickling his eyes.

grabbing the wet wipe from beside him, you wiped the excess face paint off of your fingers. the brown curls slipped from your hand as you released him, letting him know you were done. after blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness of the bathroom, he stood to look in the mirror. clenching his sharp jaw and poking his cheeks out, matt checked himself out. "i don't know if this is a new kink of mine or what.. but you're turning me on right now" you boldly admit, admiring his reflection.

his boots rattled against the floor as he walked back over to you, the materials of his outfit mashing together loudly. once stopped he gave you no personal space. his hands were already reaching for your waist again and you could feel his breath tickling your nose as he stared at you, looking for some type of sign, looking to see if what you said was a joke. "really... d-do i look good?" he breathed, staring at your lips with lust. "so good" you respond, leaning in to meet his lips.

your hands curled around the back of his neck and tangled into the dry part of his hair. scratching at his sensitive scalp and giving stability. his fingers pressed into your sides as his face moved in sync with yours, the tip of his nose poking at your cheek as you sucked him in. a quiet moan blended into the kiss as it deepened, it was getting hot and full of hunger — from both parties. needing more from you, matt opened his mouth and pulled you closer, pushing you to add some tongue into the already heated kiss.

a tangled whine left his occupied mouth as your muscle fought with his, a meaningless fight for dominance. of course you were gonna win, he just wanted a fight. you knew he wanted you to take control of the situation, wanted you to kiss him like there was no tomorrow. and you did, you pulled at his hair as saliva traveled from your lips to his. your tongue explored his mouth as you kissed him harder — more passionately. the room getting stuffy as your bodies moved. the neediness traveled down his body, his hips beginning to grind against yours, searching for some friction to soothe the boner in his baggy pants. "please don't stop" he mumbled, slightly breaking away. you nod, chuckling internally at the irony. "didn't plan on it" you purr, pulling him back to your lips.

[myobscuredmindd]

‘THE LOVE HOTEL’ — MATT STURNIOLO

pairing. matt sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, strangers au.

word count. 6.7k

❝there's a place just around the corner from here, you seen it? the buildin' with the red neon lights?❞

content warnings. explicit content, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, stranger sex, creampies, oral (receiving & giving), matt the munch, hair pulling, light spanking, light dirty talk, 'baby' & 'sweetheart' for use of petnames.

He's been staring at you the entire night.

And honestly? You've been staring at him too.

The first time was when you walked into the bar to meet a friend. He was standing at the bar, ordering his drink of choice, his gaze sweeping over the overcrowded room before his eyes landed on you—just for a brief moment.

It was quick—subtle—before he turned back to the bartender and you turned to greet your friend.

The second time was on your way to the bathroom. A slight bump with someone passing by made you stumble, and as you turned to apologise, your line of sight caught him again. Over the shoulder of the stranger in front of you, there he was; sitting alone in the corner of the dimly lit room, a beer bottle hovering near his lips.

His eyes found yours, steady and deliberate, before you slipped around the corner.

The third—and what should have been the last—was on the dance floor. Your friend had drunkenly whisked you up from your seat with a sharp tug of your wrist, insisting you join her for a song you both loved; her arms draped loosely around your shoulders as she slurred the lyrics in your ear, and you obviously couldn't help but laugh and sing along. But even then, your attention wasn't entirely on her... it drifted to him.

He hadn't moved. Still in that same corner, his chin now resting on his palm, his eyes locked on you. Watching.

In any other situation, it might have unsettled you. You'd have thrown him the dirtiest glare you could muster until he looked away... but this was different.

He's attractive—extremely so—and you don't really want him to look away from you.

You like the way he watches you. You like his attention. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a little more confident.

As midnight creeps closer, you find yourself—no, needing—one of you to make the first move. The tension had been building all night, which is why you decide to stay behind when you friend announces that her boyfriend is on his way to pick her up.

She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out as slurred, drunken protests tumble from her lips when she says she wants to stay with you, to enjoy the rest of the night, but you know she's already reached her limit.

Gently, you insist that she goes home and gets some much needed rest as you guide her toward the passenger seat of her boyfriend's car, exchanging a few quiet words with him before stepping back, watching as the car disappears into the night.

Returning inside the bar, you slip back into your seat, the low hum of music and chatter surrounding you once more as your eyes flicker toward the stranger again.

You can't help it.

Over the rim of your wine glass, you sneak glances at him, using the drink as some sort of liquid courage... you are determined to make the first move.

But as your confidence builds, it begins to falter.

He isn't watching you anymore, his attention shifted to something else—his phone. His thumb moves idly, scrolling or typing something (you're not sure), while his other hand cradles a half-empty beer bottle.

Is... he getting ready to leave? Ordering a cab? Messaging someone waiting for him at home?

"Pretty boy usually stays until closing."

The sudden voice snaps you back to reality, and your head turns slowly toward the bartender, who's leaning on the counter with a knowing smirk. She slides an untouched beer bottle in your direction, and you open your mouth to speak, to tell her that you didn't order a beer, but she's quick to cut you off.

"It's on the house... it's his favourite."

A grin spreads across your lips as the realisation dawns on you—that the bartender is playing the role of the ultimate wingwoman of the night. You thank her gratefully, and she responds with a playful wink before turning to fix a drink for the next customer.

With a surge of newfound confidence, you pick up the beer bottle and your own drink, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you make your way toward the stranger's table with a determined stride.

"You look lonely," his gaze slowly lifts from his phone upon hearing your voice, dark and steady eyes meeting yours, and his eyebrows raise at your sudden arrival. "Mind if I join you?"

"Seat's all yours." he responds, and in an instant, the tone of his voice makes you fumble. It's so low, smooth, unhurried, and the confidence you had been clinging to feels like it's slipping away.

But somehow, much to your surprise, you stay calm—composed.

With perfect posture and an unwavering smile, you settle down into the seat across from him, trying not to falter even more beneath his intense gaze. His dark, curious eyes follow your every move, watching as you slide the beer bottle across the table until it stops right in front of him.

"For you."

"F'me?" he repeats, a soft hum escaping his lips as his hand reaches out to wrap around the neck of the bottle, the silver rings on his fingers tap lightly against the glass as he turns it, inspecting the label. His eyebrows lift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "How did y'know I like this?"

"I have my ways," you reply with a playful tone before you decide to come clean. "Actually, the bartender picked it out... said it's your favourite?"

"Yeah... it is," he says with a nod as a soft smile tugs at his lips—a smile so fucking genuine and effortless it makes your chest tighten. He looks even better up close, and you feel a little giddy, unable to tear your eyes away from what might just be the prettiest sight you've even seen.

It's embarrassing, the effect he has on you already.

"Thank you," he says, his voice warm and sincere. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he adds, "I'll buy the next round?"

Realistically, you should tell him the truth—that the beer was actually given to you for free, no money spent on your part. But the thought of him buying you your next drink feels like an open invitation to spend more time with him, and there's no fucking way you're about to pass that up.

Not when the opportunity has been handed to you so easily.

So, you smile. You nod. And you take a sip of your wine to hide the excitement threatening to reveal itself on your face, though you're not entirely sure you're doing a good job of it.

With the way your cheeks ache from smiling and the way your eyes light up? It's more than likely written all over your face.

Conversation flows surprisingly naturally between the two of you. You learn his name is Matt, which, you think, suits his face perfectly. When you tell him your name, he repeats it softly, almost like a whisper, and it takes everything in you not to lean across the table and claim his lips right then and there.

He's employed, though he doesn't tell you what his profession is. Maybe that should raise a red flag, but you prefer to think he keeps his work life private, separating that from his personal life. He's also twenty-one, single, and, to your surprise, the second oldest in a set of triplets.

The way Matt speaks leaves you captivated; he explains things with so much care and adoration, appreciating even the smallest things that makes your chest fill with warmth.

But then he rolls up his sleeves mid-conversation, and suddenly, it's very fucking hard to focus on anything else.

Your eyes zero in on his forearms—on the tattoos inked into his skin, the veins that trace their way up, and the muscles that flex ever so slightly when he crosses them over his chest to lean back into his chair.

You're so distracted, practically drooling at the mouth, and you barely register that he's said something until his question pulls you back to reality.

"You good over there?" he asks, his head tilting to the side, and the glint in his eyes is almost enough to make you combust. "You've gone all uh, quiet on me."

"Sorry," you blurt out, scrambling for an excuse with an awkward laugh. "I think the wine's getting to me."

"Right." he hums, his lips curling up into a seemingly knowing smile as he reaches for his beer. Thankfully, he chooses not to press further, taking a sip instead.

But just as the bottle grazes his lips, his phone buzzes against the table and he pauses, lowering the drink slightly to glance at the screen. Another vibrations follows. Then another, and another, and another. You catch the slight tensing of his jaw, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face as he sighs and sets the bottle down.

With a quick swipe, he unlocks his phone to view the full set of messages that are flooding in rapidly.

Your lips press together, watching him carefully. You're not upset about him being on his phone—he's already given you his full attention for the most of the night. But there's something about the constant notifications that leaves you feeling concerned.

Still, you offer him a soft smile. "Need to leave?"

"No, no, s'just uh... brother stuff, s'all," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, his tone casual but vague. He doesn't elaborate further, and you decide not to push.

Instead, you nod in understanding and take a slow sip from your wine glass, letting the moment settle.

When he looks back up from his phone, his gaze lands on you, lingering just a little too long. His eyes soften, and the corner of his mouth twitches subtly.

"I don't mind leavin', though," he says, his tone low. "If you're up for it."

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're frozen. You try to mask your surprise at his sudden forwardness, though you shouldn't be shocked—this is exactly what you've wanted all along, isn't it?

Your heart skips a beat, trying to keep composed as your pulse quickens. "Oh? Where would you like to go?"

"There's a place just around the corner from here, you seen it? The buildin' with the red neon lights?"

You have, but it doesn't hurt to play dumb every now and then. "No, I haven't. What is it?"

The corner of his lips twitch upward, "It's a hotel. The kind for uh, two—or more—people wantin' privacy... couples, strangers, whatever. You can stay the night normally, but uh... s'commonly used as a love hotel."

"A love hotel?" you repeat, the words rolling off your tongue as excitement and arousal builds within you at the thought of spending the night with him. You want it—god, you want it so fucking bad—but teasing him feels too tempting to resist. "And what makes you think I'd want to spend a night with you in a love hotel?"

"I don't," Matt says with a casual shrug, his smile never wavering from his face. "It's up to you. You can say no, 'n we'll forget all about it. I'll pay for the rest of our drinks. If you want to leave, I'll even cover your cab to make sure you get home safe."

"And if I say yes?"

He tilts his head, his eyes sweeping across your face with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Think y'know what happens if you say yes."

This time, you can't hide your grin, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you hum. "Was this your plan from the start? To get me to the hotel?"

"No," Matt replies, shaking his head. His voices dips lower as he leans across the table. "Truthfully? I would've fucked you here in the bathroom if you were up for it, but..." he trails off, his tongue pressing into his cheek as the heat pools low in your tummy from his words alone. "You deserve somethin' better than that, don't you think?"

Matt's arm rests loosely around your shoulder, his hand intertwined with yours as he leads you toward the entrance of the Love Hotel. His thumb occasionally brushes against your knuckles, sending tiny sparks of warmth through you with each subtle squeeze.

The neon red lighting grows brighter as you approach, almost too harsh to handle up close. You duck your head slightly, shielding your eyes from the glare, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the building; the architecture leaving you gaping in awe.

The lighting inside is softer, still tinted with those sultry red hues, but far more bearable. The walls are lined with vines—fake, most likely, though they're convincing enough—with roses scattered along their stems. Paper hearts in every shade of pink dangle from the ceiling and lie across the floor, catching the faint glow of the lights.

You glance around, searching for a traditional reception desk, but there's none in sight which throws you off guard for a moment, but Matt moves with purpose, guiding you toward a sleek digital touchscreen at the end of the hallway.

"This is how you check in?" you ask, watching as he taps a few icons.

"Mhm," he hums casually, his fingers gliding across the screen like he's done this before. A list of room options pop up, each with a small preview image. "D'you want a room that comes with alcohol or snacks or somethin'?"

"I'm fine... unless you want anything?"

Matt shakes his head, giving your hand another squeeze before selecting one of the rooms. You watch as the touchscreen displays a loading animation of heart-shaped bubbles, the screen glowing softly before the price appears.

Not that it matters—he moves too quickly for you to even process the number, tapping his card against the machine with ease, and a final bubble pops up on the screen with the word SUCCESSFUL! in bold, cheerful letters.

Without missing a beat, he leads you down another hallway lined with a series of doors, some glow with VACANT signs, while others are marked with PREOCCUPIED.

"S'all soundproof," Matt tells you, noticing the way your eyes linger on one of the PREOCCUPIED signs. "That's why you can't hear anythin'... it's privacy for the guests."

His explanation makes total tense, but there's something about the mysterious silence that leaves you feeling a little odd. Still, the question that's been lingering on the tip of your tongue since you arrived finally escapes.

"Have you been here before?" you ask, peering at him curiously.

"No, no," he answers you honestly with a quick shake of his head. "But uh, someone I know has been here a few times... s'why I know so much about it."

"Right," you hum teasingly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm guessing they told you everything to prepare you for when you decide to bring someone?"

Matt grins and reaches out to grip the handle on the door, "Nah, more like havin' been forced to listen during breakfast," he pauses for a moment, smirks, then continues, "Good thing I listened, yeah?"

When he swings open the door open, his hand finds the small of your back, guiding you inside with a gentle pressure. The rooms décor doesn't surprise you; in fact, you pretty much expected the ongoing colour scheme of pinks and reds. Still, it's impossible not to snort quietly at the singular white couch tucked in the corner, its attempt to blend in with the addition of a few red pillows being somewhat successful.

Kicking off your shoes at the entrance, you take a few steps into the room, your curiosity drawing you toward the bedside table. There, you find a heart-shaped ceramic bowl filled to the brim with condoms in various sizes and flavours.

The sight makes your lips twitch into a grin—practical, if not amusing—and you can't help but shake your head slightly at the boldness of it all.

When you turn back to Matt, he's engrossed in the digital touchscreen display mounted on the wall. His back is to you as he fiddles with the light settings, and you bite your lip, suppressing a laugh when he accidentally turns the lights off completely. A moment later, they're at full brightness, blinding harsh, before he finally adjusts them to a warm, dim glow.

Caught peeking over his shoulder, he glances back at you with a sheepish smile before bringing his attention to the music selection, scrolling through the options.

There's something so endearing about how seriously he's taking everything, like he wants everything to be just right for you. It makes your chest tighten in the best way.

It's amusing, really. You both know why you're here, but instead of rushing and getting down to business, he's taking his time.

"Alright," he exhales finally, settling on a sensual track with the right tempo and volume. He turns slightly toward you, his lips parting to speak. "So, do you—"

But you don't wait for him to finish.

Closing the distance, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as your lips press against his. His lips are soft and warm, and for a brief second, Matt stills, his eyes widening slightly before a low, breathing laugh escapes against your mouth.

It only takes a moment for him to recover, his arms winding around your waist as his hands press firmly against your lower back, drawing you flush against him. The kiss deepens, and you feel the tension melt away from both of you as you lose yourself in the moment.

The taste of beer lingers faintly on his lips, mingling with the scent of his aftershave. His thumb grazes slow, mindless patterns against your lower back, a small gesture that sends shivers down your spine, and his tongue slips into your mouth when your lips part for him.

You don't register the movement at first as Matt walks you backward, blindly leading you without breaking the kiss. Your foot catches awkwardly on itself, and you let out a muffled noise, stumbling slightly.

Matt pulls back just enough to chuckle softly against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours. "Careful.."

You refuse to let the embarrassment ruin the moment, and you reclaim his lips, this time hooking your fingers into the collar of his skirt to keep him close. You gently suck on his bottom lip, feeling the quiet groan that rumbles in his chest as his grip tightens on you, kissing you harder, his lips hungry and unrelenting.

He stops leading you backward just as the back of your legs bump the edge of the bed, and his hands move to unfasten the button of your pants, exhaling into the kiss as your own hands come down to unbuckle the belt on his jeans.

Breaking the kiss, you both rid each other quickly of your clothes, leaving you both in just your underwear—you mentally give yourself the biggest part on the back for wearing a matching set, feeling confident and sexy with the way Matt's staring you down.

Then, he smiles—that smile you find so fucking pretty. He bends his knees slightly, wrapping his arms around your lower back to lift you up from the floor, pressing his face between your breasts, feeling his warm breath fan across your skin.

It tickles, and you can't help but giggle softly, securing your legs around his waist to ensure you don't fall—even though he has a firm grip on you.

Your fingers thread through his hair as he kisses and licks at your chest, sucking at the skin as he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, settling you in his lap as his hands move to grab your ass, his palm coming down once hard on your cheek and you whine at the sting, tugging at the roots of his hair.

"Touch me," you plead him, arching away from his lips to get a good look at him, the adrenaline pumping through your veins at his dishevelled appearance; his lips are swollen, his eyes dark and hazy, and his hair is a complete mess while his cheeks are rosy. "Please... want you to touch me."

"Yeah?" he whispers, his eyebrow raising. "How bad?"

You huff at that, refusing to answer his teasing as you kiss him again, tilting your head to the side with your hands cupping his cheeks. He grins against your lips, and he slides his hand between your bodies, pressing two fingers to your clit over your underwear and you hiss at the sudden contact, tightening your grip on him.

"You wanted me t'touch you," you hear him mutter as he pulls away from your lips, not before giving you one chaste smooch. "M'just doin' exactly what you asked."

"You know that's not what I meant," You send a playful glare his way before you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Matt's lips downturn into a frown and looks utterly confused as you slide off of him, and he opens his mouth to apologise for his previous teasing before he stops. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in amusement as he watches you settle down on your knees in front of him.

You're pulling a little impatiently at his boxers to get them off, and Matt even raises his hips to help you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as you slide the material down his legs and throw them somewhere behind you, not caring where it lands as you wrap your hand around his cock.

Matt inhales sharply, and he leans back on his palms to watch you play with his cock—squeezing at the base and pressing your thumb down on his slit, causing him to let out a breathy laugh as he tilts his head back.

The effect you have on him already builds your arousal, and your pussy throbs, feeling your underwear stick uncomfortably to your folds. You ignore it for the time being, focussing your attention on Matt as you loll out your tongue, teasing the tip with a few kitten licks.

Matt's stomach sinks in with a gasp before his muscles tense, hissing through his teeth. "Fuuck.."

You take his cock further into the warmth of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you suck him hard, using your tongue to tease beneath the mushroom tip. Matt's chest vibrates with a groan as he reaches out, placing his hand on the back of your head, and you gaze up at him, struggling to smile with your mouth full.

"Takin' me so well, sweetheart.." he praises, his eyes refusing to look away from his cock that disappears deeper down your throat, enthralled with the way you're bobbing your head and swallowing him around him. "Good girl... can... can I fuck that pretty throat?"

You immediately nod your head, gargling in response. But that doesn't seem to work with him.

"No. Tell me I can... use your words."

His cock falls from your lips with a lewd, wet pop. "You can fuck my throat."

"Thank you," you're surprised at his whispers gratitude, although it doesn't last long when he's already easing his cock back into your mouth, and the tears bubble in your eyes as his tip hits the back of your throat, a guttural groan leaving his lips.

He's thrusting his hips faster, and you let your jaw hang loose, doing your very best to use your tongue and suckle him whenever your nose brushes against his navel.

Your throat feels so raw already, on the verge of coughing and gagging—you're not sure. But the sheer size of his cock is enough to have you gargling every time he slips further down your throat, and Matt seems to enjoy your struggles as he grins down at you, affectionately smoothing that back of your head before resuming his grip.

"M'gonna cum," Matt warns you quietly. "Gonna cum in your mouth, yeah? Can you swallow it f'me? Please?"

Who the fuck are you to say no to that?

You take the initiative this time, moving your head up and down, and using your hands to fondle his heavy balls, massaging them between your fingers. It tips him over the edge, and with one deep thrust, you feel his cock twitch on your tongue before spurts of cum shoot down the back of your throat, causing you to moan and swallow every last drop he gives you.

Matt's hand tightens on your hair to pull your off his cock, and he tilts your head back with a tug that makes you wince, but you welcome the burn on your scalp.

You're panting heavily, trying to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling steadily through your nose to let the oxygen seep back into your lungs while he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of your forehead, wiping the drool and cum off your lips with his thumb.

"Good girl," he praises you again, using his other hand to delicately wipe at the tears that roll down your cheeks from the strain. "You did so well f'me... want me to get you some water?"

"No," you shake your head, your voice hoarse. "I just want to feel you—need to feel you. Now."

"Not yet," he tells you, and you're positive you're about to start crying, so utterly desperate to feel his cock and satisfy that dull ache between your thighs.

He gently grabs your elbow to pull you up from your kneeling position on the floor, keeping you stood between his legs as his nimble fingers reach around to unhook your bra before dipping to the waistband on your lacy panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while keeping his gaze on you.

You find yourself asking, "Why'd you love to tease so much?"

Matt shrugs his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your tummy as he answers. "Turns me on," His hands grope the flesh of your thighs, massaging the skin as he hums. "Think you can stand up for a little longer?"

You're confused now, and your brows pinch together as you look down at him. "What do you mean?"

"Kinda wanna eat you out like this," he murmurs softly, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he pulls you closer to his face, and his hand tightens his grip on your thigh. "Want your leg over my shoulder. You can grab my hair to hold yourself up, if you want... but I promise, m'not gonna let you fall."

Despite still being confused, you're also extremely curious about the position which is the sole reason you're agreeing, and you let out a noise of surprise when he suddenly hooks your thigh over his shoulder, resting his palms on your ass to stabilise you.

You feel the strain on the back of your leg that's on the ground, almost perched up on your tiptoes at an unusual angle. But all your worries and concerns disperse when you feel his tongue slowly lick between your folds, flicking over your clit which makes you gasp loudly.

Your body curls in on him, and your hands thread through his hair as his mouth attaches to your pussy completely, squeezing your ass as he sucks on your clit. The pleasure courses through your veins like lava, and a shrill buzzes up your spine as uncontrollable moans fall from your lips, unable to stop the volume.

He's grunting against you as you rut against his face, and he's mumbling incoherent words about how good you taste as his tongue dips inside your cunt. You let out broken mewls, your fingers curling in his hair and your legs begin to tremble, causing you to become slightly fearful that you'll slip.

Matt seems to understand your concern, and suddenly, he's pulling away to unhook your leg off his shoulder and throws you onto the bed. He's already crawling between your thighs and attaching his mouth back to your soppy pussy before you can even beg for him to return to you.

He dives in deep with his tongue, the wet muscle pushing into your quivering hole as he yanks both of your legs over his shoulders to push his face closer to your cunt, and you happily oblige by wrapping your legs around his head, keeping him locked between your thighs as your back bows.

His nose nudges against your clit, making your toes curl at the stimulation and for your eyes to roll to the back of your head, losing yourself in the pleasurable haze and the sound of his own muffled moans as he laps at you like a starved animal, his hands glued to your hips to keep you still.

As if you're going to move away.

You're enjoying this way too much, and you internally thank whoever for giving him the talent to eat pussy as amazingly good as he does. You could almost fucking cry tears of absolute joy.

It's when you feel his lips circle around your clit again that forcefully rips you out of your own head and you curse loudly, your mouth falling agape and eyebrows pinching together as you tug harder at his hair, a smile threatening to slip across your face as you hear him moan once more.

The second you feel his hand move from your hip to join his mouth at your pussy, easing two fingers inside your cunt as he makes a mess of spit and drool on your clit, that's when you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, inching you closer and closer to your release.

"Maaattt..." you whine pitifully, "I'm... I'm gonna cum."

He nods in response to your claims, fucking you harder and faster with his fingers while suckling at your clit with so much vigour it has you wailing loudly, making you wonder if the soundproof walls are enough to even hide your sounds.

It's euphoric when you reach your high; a choked gasp rips from the back of your throat as your back bows again, hips rutting against his face as he continues his motions, feeling him smile as your orgasm wracks through your body.

You're overwhelmed. There's sweat beading at your hairline, and your vision is blurry and your mind is blank. You feel like you're choking, trying your hardest to catch your breath once again as your chest heaves rapidly.

You tug at his hair to get him to stop which he does reluctantly, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs as he carefully drops your legs from his shoulders, watching as they limply bounce on the bed.

"Fuck," Matt grunts as he pushes himself up onto his knees, bis chin is covered in spin and your juices. His fingers slowly slip out of your pussy and your jaw drops open with a sharp inhale, watching through hazy vision as he brings them to his mouth, sucking the digits clean.

You find yourself unable to talk, too focussed on trying to regulate your breathing and come back to earth, the silk sheets feeling uncomfortably sticky on your clammy skin.

Matt's looming over you now, caressing your cheek and blowing cool air on your face. "You good baby?"

"Perfect," you tell him.

"Good," he whispers softly, leaning down to press his lips to yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue as it dips into your mouth to glide with your own. He tilts his head to kiss you deeper as he lays between your legs, his bare chest flushed against yours as he pulls back to ask, "More?"

"Yeah, more," you nod immediately. "Please."

"You don't have to beg me," he murmurs as he pecks your lips before glancing down. "Think I might have to finger you again—"

"No," you shake your head this time. "Don't need that.. I need your cock."

Matt whispers your name quietly, seemingly hesitant. "But—"

"It's fine. I can take it," you assure him quickly, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to prevent him from moving, although you know he can easily move away if he wanted to. "I'm fine. I just—need it—need your cock. I need to feel you. I'll beg, I swear—"

"Hey, hey..." Matt cuts off your rambling, stroking your cheek in calming motions. "Told you, yeah? You don't have to beg me for anythin'. I'll give you what you want, okay? Just.. just promise me. Promise me you're fine."

"I promise."

"Okay, baby..."

You can feel his cock press against your thigh, and your body shivers at the contact, your grip loosening on him as he leans back on his knees to look down at your cunt. He grabs his cock with one hand, the other massaging your thighs as he moves his hips forward, dragging his cock through your puffy folds.

You tense a little when you feel the head of his cock rest against your entrance, and he lifts his head to meet your gaze, giving you one last silent ask and you nod your head in confirmation.

Your mouth falls agape as Matt pushes into you, stretching you out of his cock, and you feel the burn in your inner thighs and walls as your pussy struggles to take him, inch by inch.

He's not even halfway in yet, and you do begin to fear that maybe you can't take him fully.

"Shiiit," he begins to curse, sucking sharply through his teeth, his eyes locked in on your puffy folds that fit snug around his cock. "Suckin' me in so fuckin' tight—shit—need to relax f'me, okay? Can you do that? Relax a lil' f'me?"

"Too big," you whine out pathetically, tears bubbling across your lash line as your hands grip the bed sheets.

"I know, I know.." he coos softly as he leans back over your body, making him slip further inside of you which makes you whine. He litters sweet kisses across your cheeks and jawline, "Doin' sooo well f'me already though... relax 'n breathe. Deep breaths, sweetheart."

The simple pet name shouldn't make you feel the way it does, but your chest blooms with warmth at his caring tone, and you find yourself relaxing slowly, taking steady breaths as he pushes deeper inside, stretching you out completely as his hips press to yours.

Matt waits for a few moments longer, his lips still pressing kisses to your jawline as he gives you however long you need to adjust to the sheer size of his cock before he begins to thrust slowly, pulling back to leave the tip nestled in your opening before thrusting all the way back in.

Your hands slide up to his shoulder blades, your nails digging into his skin and creating red indents as he moans at the contact, panting heavily in the crevice of your neck and leaving wet kisses in his path as his hips find a suitable pace to fuck into you, your pebbled nipples brushing against his chest.

"Faster," you whisper to him, only to squeal in surprise when he actually starts to pound into your faster—and harder—the bed rocking with each powerful thrust.

His lips meet yours in a messy, heated kiss, panting into each others mouths as your fingers tangle in the hair on the nape of his neck. The tight grip he has on your hips is pleasant, and his cock hits so fucking deep that it makes your body shake as he ruts into you.

You're trying your best to keep up with the kiss—you really are—but the pleasure becomes too much, and you're stuck with your mouth open wide, uncontrollably moaning and on the verge of tears.

It makes you feel a little pathetic to be crying over someone's cock making you feel this good... but this someone's cock is definitely worth crying over.

Much to your delight, Matt is loud; deep moans and grunts leave his lips, and he curses through incoherent words that sound similar to praises, but you struggle to make out what he's saying—head too blank and the sound of skin slapping against skin is echoing too loudly in your ears.

The knot in your stomach slowly starts to tighten again and you mewl, your grip tightening in fear that the pace he's fucking you will slow down or come to an abrupt stop, despite it being completely obvious that he's not going to do any of those things.

"You close?" he hums, his eyes flicking to yours. "Feels like you're close, baby... gonna cum f'me? Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?"

His words make your head spin wildly, and you struggle to nod.

"Yeah?" he practically purrs those words to you, and that knot in your stomach starts to feel as though it's about to snap. "M'gonna cum f'you too. Fill this pussy up... is that okay? Want me to fill you up? Fuck you full of my cum?"

You nod your head once more in response.

"Say it," he growls, "Use your words."

"Fuck—please. Fill me up. Do whatever you want, just don't stop!"

He chuckles softly, "Cute."

You're not exactly sure what tips you over the edge. Was it his lips on your neck? The whispered praises in your ear? The pace of his hips that fuck his cock deep into you? Or his hand that slips between your bodies to rub circles on your clit?

It could be any—it could be all of the above.

Whatever it is, it has your pussy clamping tightly around his cock as your second orgasm of the night hits you hard. Your head flings back against the plush pillows, and your back arches as your body trembles.

Matt greedily fucks you through your high, his fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, leaving you a shaking and sensitive mess.

Then, he makes a noise, a noise that sends a tingle down your spine as he cums, fucking into you at a slow and steady pace as he empties himself inside your pussy. You're both panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat and bodies unbelievably sticky.

It's an uncomfortable feeling, but you make no effort to even care about it as your body lays limp on the bed, feeling as Matt slowly lifts himself off you, and your face twists as you feel his cock slide out of your cunt.

Your hips jerk when you feel his fingers gently brush over your messy folds, scooping his cum and carefully pushing it back inside as it leaks. You whine at the feeling, and you can hear him chuckle, murmuring a quiet apology before he stands from the bed.

You don't have the time to wonder where he's heading as he's already returning back with a wet towel in hand. He sits back down to pry your legs open to clean you up, and honestly, you're shocked.

This has never happened before with your previous hook-ups, so you did not expect it to happened to you today.

You're pleasantly surprised, so you allow him to continue. "You good?" he asks once he's finished cleaning you up, and his hand rubs your knee. You're too into his touch to notice he's asked you a question until he calls out your name.

You blink, "What?"

Matt smiles, "I asked if you're good."

"I'm more than good," you admit to him truthfully, watching as the smile on his face widens. You sit up, and he kindly holds your elbow to help you upright while his other hand pushes the hairs that stick to your sweaty face before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is super short and sweet, not lasting as long as you wish it did and it leaves you craving for more when he pulls away from you.

"So.." you clear your throat, your voice still a little horse. "What now?"

"What now?" Matt repeats as he hums in thought. "First... m'gonna get you some water to help your throat," he says as he slips off the bed to grab a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge. "Then, if you want, I can fuck you again."

Your brows raise at that, intrigued. "Really?"

"I uh, booked this room for the entire night," he tells you as he returns, holding out the water in your direction to take with a smile on his lips. "Why not make the most of it?"

© STURNIOZ

[myobscuredmindd]

werewolf!matt who has pixie!reader go on runs with him because it’s a good way to expel their energy !

You'd been off the fucking walls all day. Running and jumping, random short screams coming from your mouth, and it's honestly starting to piss Matt off. He knows that you can't really help it, you have alot of energy and that's not your fault! But on the days where he just wants to relax it's a little bit of a pain in the ass.

Matt sighs and runs a hand through his hair as you pace around the living room, you aren't even doing anything, just walking back and forth and in the occasional circle. "Hey, Pix." You hear your boyfriends voice and flip off one side o your headphones to uncover your ear. "Hm?"

"You wanna go on a run?" He doesn't even get the words out before your bolting to go grab your running shoes. Matt sighs again as he hauls himself from the couch to go grab a rope and to wear as little clothes as possible.

You come back in record time, with your shoes on your feet and y1our hair up in your messy space buns. You spot Matt in just a tank top and a random pair of workout shorts. "Can we go, can we go, can we-" You ask excitedly, jumping from foot to foot before Matt cuts you off. "Yeah, yeah we can go. C'mon." He grumbles and nods his head towards the door and you're off, out the door, and down the street. You have too much energy, way too much. Matt's off with you, running to catch up. You both know where you're going, to a little park that no one goes to. It has woods and a nice open space to run around in.

You get there and you stop to catch your breath. Matt skids to a stop to take off his tank and shorts, attaching them to his ankle with the rope before he's in his wolf form, brown shaggy fur covering his huge form. You smile and you flit over to pet the top of his head, he bends it down to let you.

"You wanna race?" You ask with a giggle, buzzing on the spot. Matt takes a step back and gestures to the spot beside him with a tilt of his head and you're by him in a second. "Im taking that as a yes." A growl in return is all you get.

"Okay 3. 2. 1. Go!" You count down before you're off, the sound of Matt's huge paws crunching on the leaves and branches in the forest one of the only sounds in your ears as you push yourself to go faster and faster.

And yet you still don't win.

Lo's tid-bits ☆ sorry if this is lowkey bad I am TIRED