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ghsface · 4 months ago

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Hot day - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You and Matt have the house alone on a very hot day and you decide to provoke him a little...

Warnings: smut +18, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, unprotected sex (don't do it), soft!dom!matt, no use of y/n, I think that's all.

A/n: bro i literally love this, btw this is a story with two parts one hotter than the other, part two soon

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

The summer heat invaded every corner of the house. The windows were open, but not even the breeze was enough to alleviate the stifling temperature. Nick was in Korea with Madison Beer, and Chris was in Boston, which left the house for just you and Matt. The day promised to be quiet, but you had other plans.

You woke up early, with one clear idea in mind: play with the limits of Matt's patience. You knew what you did to him when you wore certain outfits, and today you weren't going to be discreet. You put on a tiny top, one that barely covered your breasts, leaving your abdomen completely exposed. You paired that with a thong in Matt's favorite color, knowing full well that it was his weakness.

You looked at yourself in the mirror before going downstairs. You smiled as you imagined his reaction; Matt wasn't the type to hide what he felt, and you loved that.

You went down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, letting the aroma of coffee and the crunch of bacon wake Matt up. You heard him move around the room, probably surprised that you were up before him. Shortly after, his footsteps echoed outside the room, and you felt him enter the kitchen before you even saw him.

“Why so early?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse from sleep, as he leaned against the counter.

“It’s too hot to stay in bed,” you said, turning to face him. His gaze automatically dropped to your body, stopping at your top before returning to your face.

Matt frowned slightly, as if he was trying to process what he was seeing. “Is that what you’re wearing today?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but the slight tone in his voice made it clear to you that he wasn’t as nonchalant as he appeared.

“It’s hot, don’t you think?” you replied with an innocent smile, turning back to the stove to continue cooking. You made sure to move in a way that your hips stood out, knowing that Matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

He didn’t answer right away, but you felt his gaze burning into your back. Eventually, he walked over and sat down on one of the chairs at the island, his attention divided between the food and your body.

Breakfast was a silent game of glances and small accidental brushes. Every time you passed by him, you made sure your fingers brushed his or your hips barely touched his arm. Matt tried to stay calm, but you could see how his hands tensed on the table and how his jaw clenched slightly.

Hours passed, and every small gesture you made seemed to increase the tension in the room. Finally, as you stood in the kitchen searching for something on the upper shelves, you decided it was time to take the next step.

“Matt, can you help me? I can’t reach this,” you called, looking over your shoulder with a playful smile.

Matt put down his phone and walked over to you. He positioned himself behind you, lifting his arm to reach the shelf. It was the perfect opportunity. You moved your hips back, making sure your ass was directly brushing his crotch.

The reaction was immediate. Matt tensed behind you, and for a moment, you thought he would try to ignore it. But then, his hands landed firmly on your hips, and he turned you slightly towards him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he murmured, his voice lower and huskier than ever.

“What do you mean? I just asked for help,” you said with an innocent smile, but your eyes betrayed your intentions.

Matt didn’t say anything else. Instead, his fingers tightened on your skin, his hands sliding down until they were almost at the base of your back. His breathing was heavy, and you could feel his body tense against yours.

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, bringing his face closer to yours. His eyes were dark, filled with desire, and the commanding tone in his voice made you shiver.

He pushed you back against the table with measured force, leaning over your body as one firm hand ran down your back and the other slid the fabric of your underwear away, tearing it off carelessly. “You knew exactly what you were doing,” he growled against her ear, his voice husky, heavy with hunger held back for too long.

You arched ur back, gasping as she felt his fingers sink between her legs, exploring her with a brazenness that made you shiver. “Look at you, you’re already soaked,” he murmured, dragging his fingers against her core in deliberately slow strokes, as if he wanted to taste your desperation.

When he entered you with two fingers, he did so without warning, direct, deep, drawing a moan from you that echoed through the room. His movements were rhythmic, cruel, twisting his wrist with each thrust so you felt every inch of his touch. His thumb found your clit, pressing it in firm circles as his mouth moved down to nibble at the curve of your neck.

“Is this what you wanted? For me to take you like this, mercilessly?” he growled as his fingers worked faster, his body rigid against yours. You could only nod, his nails digging into the edge of the table as your legs shook.

Without waiting for your response, he turned you around, causing your breasts to crash against the cold of the table. He unbuttoned his pants with an urgency he could barely control, letting the weight of his erection press against your entrance, brushing just enough to draw a sigh from you.

“Ask for it,” he demanded, leaning down to speak directly into your ear, his fingers tangling in your hair and tugging just enough to make you lift your face.

“Please…” you whispered, barely audible.

Matt didn’t need more. He thrust into you suddenly, filling you completely in a movement that left you breathless. He didn’t stop, moving hard, setting a relentless pace as his hands gripped your waist, his nails digging into your skin.

The sound of your bodies colliding filled the air, mixing with your moans and ragged breaths. He gave no respite, leaning down to bite your shoulder as he thrust even harder, reaching every corner of your core as if he wanted to claim it for himself.

“You’re mine,” matt growled, his voice cracking with pleasure, just as you broke beneath him, trembling as your orgasm rocked you completely.

Your nails dragged across the table, searching for some anchor as Matt continued with relentless thrusts, each one deeper than the last. His pace was rough, almost desperate, but perfectly controlled, making sure that each thrust left you gasping for his name.

“This is how you like it, isn’t it? To be taken so hard that you can’t think of anything else,” he growled against your ear, biting your earlobe as his hands moved down your hips to grip his buttocks, pulling them apart tightly to sink further into you.

Each movement made him bolder. One hand moved up your back, tracing a path to your neck, where he closed his fingers firmly, still thrusting. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded, squeezing just enough for your voice to come out breathy.

“It’s… too much… but don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice shaking as your body gave in completely to the pleasure.

He smiled, dark, satisfied, and eased his grip to lean over you, his lips brushing the edge of your ear as he moved his hips in a slower, deeper rhythm, deliberately torturing you. “I’m going to make you scream so hard that everyone knows what we’re doing here.”

The heat between them was overwhelming. Their bodies moved as if they were made to fit together, the sound of their skins slapping together amplifying the intensity of the moment. When he felt you begin to shake again, your body nearing another climax, he didn’t stop.

His movements became even more frantic, the force of his thrusts drawing gasps from you. His hand returned to your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise motions, bringing you to the edge as his own control began to crumble.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice heavy with desire and authority. “I want to feel you break.”

And you did. With a heart-wrenching cry, your body arched, tightening around him as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you shaking and breathless. The feeling of his body squeezing him pushed Matt over the edge, and with one last, hoarse moan, he let himself go, sinking into you once more as the pleasure consumed him completely.

As you both caught your breath, your bodies remained pressed together, hot, still shaking from the intensity of the moment. He didn’t pull away right away, letting you feel every rhythmic throb of his body still inside you. With slow movements, he slid his hands down to her hips, caressing her as if to calm the whirlwind you had just unleashed.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

Tags... @sturniolofreakk @matthewsroses @purpledragon222 @sfoiasturn @sturniololover69 @angelic-sturniolos111 @slut4chris888 @mega-munchforchris @mattsbitchh @priscillaog @sweetshuga @sturniolo-fann @strnilolover @lolastrniolo

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

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seospicybin · 2 months ago

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SEOSPICY PREVIEW.

COCKY: CHAPTER I.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: As a researcher developing a specialized condom in extra large sizes, you never expected the company’s product manager, Chris, to volunteer as a test subject—let alone for things to get this complicated. Balancing professionalism with undeniable chemistry, you must navigate a partnership that’s strictly business… or so you keep telling yourself.

Preview under the cut!

...

Chris moves first, unbuttoning the remaining buttons of his shirt with practiced ease. The fabric slips from his shoulders, revealing toned muscles beneath—broad chest, defined abs, and a confidence that makes the entire act seem effortless.

You keep your expression neutral, or at least you try to. “This is strictly professional,” you remind yourself silently.

Chris glances at you, catching the way your gaze flickers before you quickly refocus on your notes.

“Do you need me to undress completely?” he asks, his tone smooth, almost teasing.

You press your lips together before answering. “For accurate measurement, I need access to the necessary area. So… yes.”

He chuckles, a deep, warm sound. “Straight to the point.”

You don’t respond, instead focusing on preparing the measuring tape and recording sheet. Anything to keep yourself occupied while he finishes undressing.

A moment later, you hear the rustle of fabric, the sound of a belt unfastening, the subtle shift of movement. You don’t look up until Chris speaks again.

“I’m ready when you are.”

When you finally lift your gaze, your breath catches for a fraction of a second. You do your best to maintain your professionalism—but the moment you see it, all thoughts momentarily leave your head.

Chris stands before you, bare from the waist down, his body relaxed yet radiating a quiet confidence. He doesn’t shy away, doesn’t fidget—he simply waits, watching for your reaction.

You knew he had to be on the larger side to even qualify for the study, but seeing it in person is something else entirely. Bigger than you expected. Definitely bigger than you imagined.

You barely catch yourself before audibly reacting, but your throat betrays you as you swallow air, a reflex you hope he doesn’t notice.

Chris, of course, notices everything. A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Something wrong?”

You snap out of it, quickly shaking your head as you reach for your measuring tape, trying to ignore the sudden warmth creeping up your neck. “No, nothing at all. Let’s just get this done.”

Chris chuckles, but thankfully doesn’t press further. For now.

You quickly move to retrieve a pair of latex gloves from your bag, slipping them on with practiced precision.

Chris raises an amused eyebrow. “You really came prepared, huh?”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Of course. This is an official product test.”

His lips twitch in amusement as he peeks into your open bag, catching a glimpse of all the testing materials. “What else do you have in there? A microscope? A lie detector?”

You ignore his teasing and pull out the measuring tape, standing straighter to compose yourself. “Alright. Let’s begin with the flaccid measurement.”

Chris doesn’t move, doesn’t make it easier for you. Instead, he watches—patient, unreadable—as you kneel slightly, positioning the measuring tape against him.

Your fingers brush against his skin through the latex, and you swear you feel the slightest twitch beneath your touch. You pretend not to notice. But Chris does.

And as the test continues, you realize that maintaining professionalism might be the hardest part of all.

You keep your focus steady, guiding the measuring tape along the length of Chris’s flaccid state. Your gloved fingers work efficiently, noting the exact numbers as you move on to measure his girth, wrapping the tape around the thickest part before finally noting the width calculation.

Chris watches you work, amusement flickering in his eyes. “How do you measure width, exactly?”

You don’t hesitate as you jot down the numbers. “You divide the girth by 3.14.”

Chris lets out a short laugh. “Huh. I used to think I wouldn’t need math in real life.”

You smirk, a little too focused on your notes when you reply, “Well, here’s a practical use of phi for you.”

His chuckle is warm, and you don’t notice how his eyes linger on you as you make quick calculations in your notebook.

Once you’re done, you lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Alright, now I need to measure—” You stop mid-sentence as realization sets in. His fully erect size.

The complications of that request hit you all at once. Chris raises an eyebrow, clearly catching your hesitation. And for the first time, you’re at a complete loss for words.

You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound casual. “I need to take your measurements when you’re fully erect.”

Chris tilts his head slightly, studying you with quiet amusement. “And do you have any idea how to get me there?”

You keep your expression neutral. “You can look at pornographic images or watch an adult film. That should help.”

At that, Chris grins, a small chuckle escaping him. He shakes his head, clearly entertained by your clinical suggestion. “That’s one way,” he muses. “But I have a better idea.”

You don’t like the way his eyes darken ever so slightly, the playful glint in them laced with something else.

You try to stay calm, but your fingers tighten around your measuring tape. “And… what’s that?”

He stalls, watching you carefully before answering. “You can help me with it.”

...

Full fic will be released this Friday, March 7 or you can read it early on my Patreon page:

#seospicy preview #stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #seospicy smut

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freshl6ve · 6 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, my heart racing with anticipation. Standing there in all black, hoodie pulled up to hide his face, was Chris. The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated just the faintest hint of a mischievous grin on his lips.

I quickly grabbed Chris's wrist, pulling him inside with a hushed whisper, “Hurry up, before we get caught!”

The sound of the door shutting behind us seemed to echo through the quiet house, as we both froze for a moment, listening for any signs of awakening from my parents. Luckily, the house remained eerily silent, and Chris's grin only widened.

My hands trembled slightly as I locked the door behind us, then gripped Chris's hand tightly. We moved silently up the stairs, my heart continuing to pound in my chest. I led him down the hallway, every creak of the floorboards feeling like a potential alarm for my parents.

When we reached my bedroom door, I paused, taking a quick look down the hall before opening the door and pulling Chris inside.

We were in my room now, the soft light from my nightstand casting long shadows on the walls. Chris pulled back his hood and looked around with a smirk, obviously satisfied with the mischief we had just pulled off. I closed the door behind us and leaned against it, not quite realizing how winded I was from the adrenaline. We both stood there for a moment, listening for any signs of movement from my parents, but the house remained silent.

I let out a shaky breath, and couldn’t help but smile at the audacity that had brought Chris to my house. “You’re insane,” I muttered, “I can’t believe you actually showed up.”

He chuckled, leaning against my desk and crossing his arms casually. “What, wouldn’t you be disappointed if I didn’t?”

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, I was both relieved and excited to have him here. There was something about his carefree attitude and the hint of danger hanging around him that was incredibly appealing. I couldn’t explain it, but being alone with him felt like a new kind of adventure.

“You’re reckless,” I said, trying to sound exasperated but failing. “You know if my parents find out, I’m as good as dead.”

I couldn’t hold back a sigh as I walked over to my bed and flung myself backward onto the mattress. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving me feeling both exhausted and relieved at the same time. The bed creaked under my weight, and I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get my breath back.

Chris moved silently and swiftly, his body towering over mine as I lay on the bed, my eyes still closed. I felt his proximity, the heat radiating from him, and my heart quickened yet again. Then, to my surprise, he leaned close to my neck, his voice a soft whisper in my ear, “Don’t be mad at me,” he murmured, “I don’t like it when you’re mad.”

I kept my eyes shut, the words escaping my lips in a hushed tone, “I’m not mad,” I whispered, my voice betraying the slight tremor I felt at his nearness. His warm breath tickled my cheek, sending shivers down my spine.

I continued, my voice steadying a little, “I’m just telling you, if my parents find out you’re here, we’re dead.”

Chris chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate, “Relax,” he whispered, “They’re not going to find out.”

Chris continued, his breath against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, “We’ll be sneaky,” he promised, “They won’t have a clue I’m here.”

His words sent a new wave of both excitement and trepidation through me. I knew it was risky, but the thrill of having him here, the promise of secrecy and the proximity of his body over mine, was making it hard to care.

Slowly, gently, Chris let his lips find my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I felt a soft gasp escape my lips as he started to trail light kisses down the side of my neck, his lips moving slowly and deliberately. His body leaned even closer, the weight of his torso pressing me involuntarily into the mattress.

His kisses, though soft, felt electric. Each press of his lips sent a jolt of heat coursing through me, and I found myself involuntarily tipping my head back to give him more access. I could feel his hands on either side of me, gripping the mattress, as if anchoring himself.

Without thinking, my fingers found their way into his hair, carding through the soft strands as I pulled him closer. I arched my back slightly, baring my neck to him, silently begging for more. The combination of his mouth on my skin and the feel of his hair between my fingers was intoxicating.

Chris pulled away from my neck just long enough to whisper against my ear, “I just need you to keep it down,” he murmured, his words sending another shiver through me, “Can you do that for me?”

His voice was soft, but there was an undertone of command beneath it, and my breath hitched at the implications.

I nodded, my hands still tangled in his hair, my body still taut against his, and he returned to my neck, his mouth finding that spot just below my ear that made me weak. A small gasp escaped my lips, and I remembered his warning, biting my lip to hold back a moan.

His mouth teased the sensitive skin of my neck, his teeth gently scraping over my pulse point. My fingers instinctively tightened in his hair, trying to hold on to some sense of control, but it was quickly slipping away. I could feel the heat of his body pressed against mine, the weight of him delicious and torturous all at once.

I managed to regain some level of control, and with a ragged breath, I tugged gently on his hair, managing to whisper, “No marks, Chris,” my voice shaky.

He hummed against my neck, the vibration sending a wave of heat through me, but he pulled away just enough to murmur, “Where's the fun in that?”

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was teasing, but I couldn’t help the blush that spread over my cheeks at his words. I tried to sound firm, but there was a hint of pleading in my voice, “I mean it, no marks.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and throaty. “Alright, no marks,” he agreed, but his mouth didn’t leave my skin, instead trailing down to the base of my collarbone.

I could feel the heat of his lips on my collarbone, soft and tantalizing, but his tongue flicked out, tasting my skin, and I let out a soft gasp. His hands slid down to my hips, holding me in place, as his mouth moved lower, making my breathing erratic.

His touch was a mix of light and firm, the pads of his fingers tracing patterns on my stomach as he continued to kiss my neck. The feel of his hands on my bare skin was making it increasingly difficult to hold back the small, needy sounds I was desperately trying to suppress.

Chris's hand continued it's journey under my shirt, and as his fingers glided over the smooth, bare expanse of my chest, he froze for a moment, his breath warm against my skin.

“No bra?” he murmured, his voice a low, mischievous whisper against my neck as he smirked. I felt my cheeks flush, and I tried to find the words to respond, but all I could manage was a small squirm as his hand lingered on my chest.

Chris's fingers found my nipple, circling the sensitive bud teasingly. I gasped as a jolt of pleasure shot through me, my back arching slightly off the bed. His lips curved into a satisfied smirk against my neck as he heard my breathy moan.

Chris's mouth claimed mine in a searing kiss, swallowing my moan as his fingers continued their torturous teasing. I kissed him back fervently, my tongue tangling with his as I tried to muffle any further sounds of my pleasure.

Chris's thumb rubbed gentle circles around my nipple while his index and middle fingers pinched and rolled the other one, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I struggled to stay quiet, my lips locked against his in a desperate attempt to silence my moans

Chris's touch became more insistent, his hands exploring my body with confidence. He trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his back as I writhed beneath him. “Shh, baby,”

Chris paused in his ministrations and reached down to the hem of my shirt, his fingers tracing the edge teasingly. “Lift your arms,” he whispered against my ear, his voice husky.

I complied eagerly, my breath hitching as he slowly pulled the shirt up and over my head, leaving me bare beneath him. His eyes flicked down to admire my breasts, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “God, you're beautiful,” he murmured.

Chris leaned down and captured my mouth in a passionate kiss before trailing his lips along my collarbone. He paused briefly between my breasts, his hands caressing the soft mounds before he leaned down and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my skin.

Chris's kisses grew harder, his teeth nipping at my skin as he marked his territory. He left red, passion-filled love bites along my collarbone, between my breasts, and even on the soft flesh of my stomach. I gasped and squirmed beneath him, the slight pain only intensifying the pleasure.

“Oops,” Chris murmured, pulling back to admire his handiwork. I pouted up at him, “I told you no marks, Chris.” I chided, trying to keep my voice down.

Chris leaned in close, his breath fanning across my face as he smirked. “Yeah, but you can just cover them up with a shirt,” he murmured, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Besides, you should be grateful I restrained myself from marking your neck too.”

I shook my head at him, but my expression softened when he leaned into my neck, his warm breath tickling my skin. “I'm sorry, baby,” he murmured, his hands slowly sliding down into my pajama pants. “Will you forgive me?”

His fingers found their way into my underwater, gently parting my thighs as they slipped between them. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, my hips bucking against his touch as he slowly caressed me. “Forgive me?”

Chris's fingers teased along my slit, feeling how wet I already was for him. He circled my clit slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make me shudder. “Please, baby,” he murmured against my neck, his voice a low rumble.

I nodded my head, forgiving him as he continued to touch me. His fingers dipped inside me, curling and stroking that sensitive spot within me that made my whole body tremble. Chris groaned against my neck, his own need evident in the way his breath hitched and his fingers moved faster.

“Oh, God, Chris,” I whimpered, my hands clutching at his back as he drove me closer to the edge. His fingers pistoned in and out of me, his thumb grinding against my swollen bud. He nuzzled into my neck, his breath hot and ragged.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice low and demanding. His fingers pumped faster, his touch unrelenting, and I shattered around him, my body convulsing with waves of pleasure. He muffled my cries with his mouth, kissing me deeply as I rode out the high.

As the aftershocks subsided, Chris slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. He hummed at my taste, his eyes dark with lust. “Delicious,” he murmured. His hands slid up to cup my face, his thumbs brushing over my flushed cheeks.

Chris reached for the hem of my pajama pants, his eyes locked onto mine. “Lift up,” he ordered softly. I obeyed, lifting my hips so he could peel off my pants and underwear in one fluid motion. He tossed them aside, his hands returning to my thighs and spreading them wide.

Chris knelt down in front of me, his broad shoulders spreading my thighs even wider. He leaned in close, his warm breath fanning over my sensitive flesh. He began to clean me up with his mouth, his tongue gentle yet thorough as it lapped at my folds.

My hand quickly found its way into Chris's hair, gripping the strands as his talented mouth worked me over. He groaned against my core, the vibrations adding to the intense sensations. His tongue delved deeper, thrusting inside me as he savored my essence. I rolled my hips, grinding against his face.

Chris's arms wrapped around my thighs, securing me in place as he devoured me. His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside as his tongue swirled around my swollen nub. I gasped, my back arching off the bed as my hands fisted his hair tightly. “Chris, please...”

Chris growled against my flesh, the vibrations pushing me closer to the edge. He added a third finger, stretching me wide as he pumped them in and out, his mouth sucking on my peak. “Cum on my face, baby,” he demanded, his voice muffled yet clear.

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud cry, I came hard on his face, my whole body shaking as I soaked his chin and lips with my release. Chris drank it all in, his fingers still pumping inside me as he sucked and licked, milking every last drop from my trembling body.

Chris crawled back up my body, hovering over me as he leaned down capture my lips in a deep, sensual kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue as it dominated my mouth, claiming me thoroughly. His hard length pressed against my thigh, hot and insistent.

Breaking the kiss, I reached for the hem of his black hoodie, eager to undress him. My fingers brushed against his chiseled abs, tracing the defined ridges as I pushed the hoodie up his torso. He helped me remove it, tossing it aside before returning to brace himself above me.

He brought me into another deep kiss, his body lowering to press against mine. His bare chest crushed against my breasts, the friction making my nipples harden into tight peaks. His hands roamed down my sides, tracing my curves before slipping between our bodies to palm my backside and grind himself against me.

As we kissed, Chris brought one hand to my jawline, cradling my face gently. His thumb caressed my cheek as his tongue delved deep, tangling with mine. His other hand continued to squeeze and knead my backside, lifting me to meet each delicious grind of his hips.

I rolled us over, reversing our positions so I was now on top. Chris looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire as I straddled his hips. I broke the kiss to sit back and admire him, running my hands over his chest and abs in awe before reaching for his belt.

Chris reached for my lips, wanting another kiss, but I pushed him down onto the bed instead. He groaned as his back hit the mattress, his eyes following my hands as I unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled down the zipper. I looked up at him through my lashes, biting my lip.

I teased him through his boxers, palming him gently as he watched me with hooded eyes. His hips lifted off the bed, seeking more of my touch. I leaned down, my breath hot as I hovered over him. “Please, Y/N...” he groaned, his hands fisting the sheets.

I smirked mischievously, enjoying the control I had over him. I ran my fingers along his hard length through the thin fabric, feeling him jerk against my touch. I slowly traced the outline, tormenting him until he let out a frustrated growl.

“You're killing me...” he hissed, his knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets so tightly. I leaned down further, my breath hot on his flesh as I continued to taunt him through the cotton. I could see his stomach clench and unclench with each passing second. “Y/N...”

I leaned down to his neck, my breath hot against his skin as I whispered, “Not yet...” My hands continued their slow torture, grazing his hardened length through the fabric of his boxers. He let out a shaky breath, his voice hoarse as he begged, “Please... I need more...”

I slid my hand into his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his scorching hot skin. His hips bucked up, pressing against my palm. As I slowly pumped my hand, I leaned down and began to mark his collarbone and chest with gentle love bites.

I met at his neck, my hot breath washing over his skin as I continued to work my hand over him. “You're so hard for me...” I whispered against his ear, my voice sultry. He let out a low moan, his head tilting to the side to grant me better access.

My hand tightened around him as I moaned into his ear, “Chris...” His hips thrust up into my grasp, his breathing becoming more ragged. “Say it again... please,” he begged, his voice laced with desperation. I obliged, my voice husky as I whispered, “Chris...”

“You feel so good in my hand...” I murmured against his neck, my fingers wrapping tighter around his hard length as I slowly pumped. “And you taste so good...” I groaned, my teeth gently scraping his skin as I marked him.

“I want you to bend me over this bed and fuck me until I can't walk...” I whispered, my breath hot against his neck. “I want you to tie my hands behind my back and spank me until my ass is red and sore...” I continued, my words dripping with desire.

“I want you to make me scream so loud you'll have to shut me up with your hand over my mouth,” I added, my voice barely above a whisper. Chris let out a strangled groan, his body tensing up as he struggled to hold back his climax.

I hovered over his face, my eyes locked onto his intense, yearning gaze. The raw emotion etched on his face sent a surge of power through me. I leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a searing, passionate kiss. His hands shot up to grasp my hips, pulling me even closer.

As I pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connected our lips before breaking. I slowly moved down his body, my hands trailing over his chest and stomach. I knelt in front of him, my knees hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud.

I reached for his boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs. He lifted his hips to help me, his eyes never leaving mine. Once they were off, I tossed them aside and gazed up at him, my mouth watering at the sight of his throbbing erection.

Chris propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes fixed intently on me as I knelt before him. His gaze was heated, his breathing ragged as he watched me. I reached out, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze.

I leaned forward, my tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum. Chris let out a loud groan, his head falling back against the pillow as he struggled to maintain his balance on his elbows.

I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently as I began to bob my head up and down. Chris's hands tangled in my hair, guiding my mouth further down his length. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting as I took him deeper, my nose pressing against his pelvis.

“Y/N...” he gasped, his voice strained. His hips bucked, his hands tugging at my hair. I could feel him growing harder, his breaths coming in short pants. I knew he was close, so I doubled my efforts, sucking and bobbing my head faster. “Stop... please...”

Chris was a whimpering, crying mess as he struggled to hold back his climax. His hands were fisted in my hair, his body shaking with the effort of keeping still. Tears streamed down his face, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought against his impending orgasm.

“Y/N... please... it's too much...” Chris whimpered, his voice barely a whisper. His body shook, his hips bucking forward uncontrollably. “I'm gonna... I can't... please, baby, please...”

His moans filled the room, interspersed with whimpers and pleas for release. His body was taut, his muscles tensed as he neared his breaking point. “Oh god... oh god... oh god...” he chanted, his voice rising in pitch.

With a final, choked moan, Chris came undone. His hips surged forward, burying his cock deep in my throat as he erupted. “Ma! Fuck, Y/N!” he cried out, his voice raw with emotion. His body convulsed, spilling his release down my throat.

I continued to suck and swallow, drawing out his release as he whimpered and moaned above me. His body trembled, his hands still fisted in my hair. As the last shudder wracked his body, he let out a soft whine.

Chris propped himself up on his elbows once more, watching as I continued to clean him with my mouth. He let out a soft moan, his body still quivering from the aftershocks of his release. I could see the raw, sated look in his eyes, his cheeks still wet with tears.

I got up and slowly straddled his lap, my arms wrapping around his neck. I grinded my hips against his, the mess we'd made making lewd, squelching sounds. Chris's eyes fluttered closed, his hands gripping my hips as he let out a low, contented hum.

“Mmm... Y/N...” Chris mumbled. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as I continued to grind on him. I could feel him starting to harden again beneath me, his cock slick with our combined fluids.

My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as I continued to move against him. Chris's grip on my hips tightened, his face buried in the crook of my neck. He let out a soft, needy whimper, his hips rising to meet mine. “Y/N... more... please...”

I paused, my fingers still tangled in his hair. I reached down and wrapped my hand around his hardened length, lining it up with my entrance. I slowly sank down onto him, my eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. Chris's grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I threw my head back, a low moan escaping my lips as I fully sheathed myself on him. Chris's face was flushed, his eyes locked onto my face as he bit his bottom lip. “Baby... please... move... please...” he whimpered.

I started to slowly rise and fall on him, my hands braced on his shoulders. Chris's fingers tightened on my hips, his own hips rising to meet mine as I increased my pace. The wet, sucking sounds of our joined bodies filled the room, punctuated by our moans and whimpers.

Chris's forehead fell forward onto my chest, his breath hot on my skin. “Oh god, Baby... yes... just like that...” He mumbled. His hands roamed over my body, caressing and squeezing as I rode him.

I reached down and gripped his face, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. Chris's arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight against him as I kissed him. Our mouths moved together in perfect sync, our tongues dancing as I continued to ride him.

We broke apart, both of us gasping for breath. A string of saliva connected our mouths, stretching and snapping as I threw my head back and continued to ride him.

Chris's lips found my neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin. His teeth grazed my pulse point, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I could feel my climax approaching rapidly, my inner walls starting to flutter around him. “Chris...”

“...So close...” I panted, my voice barely a whisper. Chris's arms tightened around me, his hands gripping my bottom tightly. His hips thrust upwards, meeting my own downward motions, the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

I opened my mouth to moan, but Chris quickly covered it with his hand. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm crashed over me, my body convulsing with pleasure. I clenched tightly around Chris, feeling him throb and pulse inside me as he found his own release.

“Ass over the bed…now.” Chris panted, gently lifting me off him. I whimpered at the loss of him, quickly complying and bending over the edge of the bed. Chris ran a hand down my back soothingly, tracing over the curve of my behind.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, giving my ass a gentle pat. He lined his still-hard length back up with my entrance, slowly pushing inside me once more. I let out a soft mewl, my face pressed against the comforter as he began to move inside me again.

Chris leaned over me, his chest pressed against my back. He reached around and covered my mouth with his hand once more. “Shhh... stay quiet for me,” he whispered huskily in my ear. He started to move inside me again, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm.

I bit down on his palm to muffle my moans as he increased his pace. The new angle allowed him to delve even deeper inside me, his hips slapping against my bottom with each thrust. Tears pricked at my eyes from the effort of staying silent, my hands gripping the bedsheets tightly.

Chris's free hand snaked around my waist, his fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He started to strum it gently, his pace inside me never ceasing. I let out a muffled wail against his palm, my body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over me.

Just as Chris was about to reach his climax, he quickly pulled out of me and turned me over, laying me back on the bed. He hovered over me, his eyes locked onto mine as he lined himself back up with my entrance. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice strained with desire.

Chris held himself at my entrance, teasing me with the tip of his hardness. He rubbed it against my sensitive folds, coating himself in my wetness. I whimpered and reached up to grab his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist as I tried to pull him inside.

“Chris... please...” I begged, my voice low and desperate. A small smirk played on Chris's lips as he continued to tease me. He leaned down, capturing my mouth with his own. His tongue delved deep, mimicking the movements he longed to make with the rest of his body.

Chris pulled back from the kiss, his gaze never leaving mine. He rubbed the tip of his cock against my entrance, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp. He did this over and over, the head of his dick teasing my opening, but not entering.

I opened my mouth to beg once more, but Chris chose that moment to thrust into me. He entered me hard and deep, his hips meeting mine with a sharp slap. I let out a loud, passion-filled moan, only for Chris to quickly cover my mouth with his hand.

“Not so loud,” Chris whispered against my ear, his hips continuing to move against mine in a steady rhythm. “We wouldn't want anyone to hear us, now would we?”

I whimpered against his palm, my arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to move inside me. The pressure of his hand over my mouth only heightened my arousal, and I could feel myself growing wetter around him with each thrust.

Chris's face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his teeth gently scraping against my skin. He trailed kisses up to my jaw, then down to my collarbone. He cupped my breasts, massaging the soft mounds before lowering his head to suck one peak into his mouth.

Chris lifted his head, his hand still covering my mouth as he looked down at me. His hips never slowed, continuing to pound into me with hard, deep thrusts. Our eyes locked, the only sound the slap of his hips against my thighs and his hand muffling my cries.

Chris leaned down, pressing his free hand onto my stomach and pinning me down. His pace quickened, each thrust driving into me with force. I let out a louder moan, only for Chris to press down harder on my stomach.

“I can feel how deep I am inside you,” Chris growled, his voice low and commanding. “Can you feel that, ma? Can you feel every inch of me stretching you open?” His hand on my stomach pressed down even harder, keeping me pinned beneath him as he continued to thrust into me.

“You're so tight around me,” Chris panted, his hips never stopping their relentless pace. “Squeezing me like you never want to let go. I bet you're loving this, aren't you? Being filled up so deep, used for my pleasure.”

I whimpered beneath him, his words stirring something primal within me. Chris's eyes bored into mine, his jaw clenched as he tried to reign in his control. “I could live inside you,” he rasped, his pace slowing to long, deep strokes. “Stay buried within your heat forever.”

Chris's words sent a shiver through me, his slow, deep thrusts driving me closer to the edge. I could feel my walls clenching around him, trying to keep him trapped inside me forever. “Please,” I begged, my voice muffled by his hand still covering my mouth.

“Let me hear you,” Chris demanded, uncovering my mouth. His thrusts became shallower, the head of his manhood bumping against that sweet spot inside me. “Let me hear how much you love it, ma. Beg me for it.”

“Please, Chris!” I cried out, my head thrown back against the pillow. “Oh god, right there! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” My fingers clawed at his forearm, still pinned against my stomach. He leaned down, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper as he kissed me. My arms wound around his back, my nails digging into his skin as he continued to hit that perfect spot. “More,” I panted, breaking the kiss. “I need more, Chris. Harder, please.”

Chris growled against my neck, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The new angle allowed him to drive into me even deeper, his pelvis grinding against my sensitive clit with each thrust. I cried out, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on his sweat-slicked back.

“That's it, take it all,” Chris groaned, pounding into me relentlessly. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with my wanton moans. He captured my lips in another bruising kiss, silencing my cries as he fucked me into the mattress.

“You're so good at taking me,” Chris praised, his voice thick with desire. “Like you were made just for me, baby. So warm, so tight... You take it so well.”

I let out a keening moan, his words pushing me closer to the edge. Chris's hips moved in a blur, his pace almost brutal. “Look at you,” he rasped, his voice ragged. “Taking me like such a good girl. Let me see you fall apart, ma.”

My back arched off the bed, my fingers digging into Chris's back as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. Stars burst behind my eyelids, my vision going white as I was consumed by pure, unadulterated bliss. “Chris!” I screamed, my voice hoarse from overuse.

Chris quickly covered my mouth once more, muffling my cries as his release overtook him. His hips stuttered, driving into me once, twice, three more times before he still. “Y/N,” he groaned, his body tensing as he spilled himself into me.

He held himself still, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he caught his breath. After a moment, he slowly pulled out of me, his softening member slipping free with a wet pop. I let out a soft whimper at the emptiness, my inner walls clenching around nothing.

Chris collapsed beside me, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me flush against his body. I snuggled close, wrapping my arms around his chest and resting my head on his shoulder. “Stay with me,” I murmured softly, my voice sleepy.

Chris's chest rumbled with a soft laugh against my head. “I can't, ma,” he said, his voice gentle. “Your parents will see me here and there will be hell to pay.” I sighed, already knowing this, but not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Please,” I whined, tightening my arms around him. “I'll sneak you out early, an hour before my parents wake up. No one will know you were even here.”

Chris let out a soft groan, his fingers playing with my hair. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “But only because I can't bear the thought of leaving you right now.” He tightened his hold on me, his arms wrapping around me possessively.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The soft press of lips against my neck stirred me awake. I stirred sleepily, my eyes fluttering open to find Chris leaning over me, his face softened by the early morning light. He was already dressed in his clothes from the night before, his hair slightly disheveled. “Morning, sleepy head,”

“What time is it?” I tried to find my phone. “Just a little past 6,” Chris murmured, glancing at his watch. “We need to get me out of here before your parents wake up.” He leaned down, capturing my lips in a soft, lingering kiss. I sighed into it, savoring the taste of him.

“Mmm,” I murmured, not wanting him to leave just yet. I was still half asleep, and his warmth and presence were so comforting. Chris chuckled, his lips trailing kisses along my jaw. “Come on, ma, we have to go,”

I pouted, finally untangling myself from Chris's embrace and climbing out of bed. I looked down at myself, surprised to find that I was fully clothed. “You dressed me?” I asked softly, glancing back at Chris with a blush.

Chris nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Figured it'd be best if you weren't walking around naked,” he said, his voice low. I blushed deeper, slipping my feet into my slippers and cracking open my bedroom door to peer out into the hallway. The coast was clear.

We crept down the stairs quietly, the house slowly brightening up with the rising sun. Chris's hand was warm and comforting in mine, his thumb gently stroking my skin. We reached the bottom of the stairs without incident, and I led him towards the front door.

As we reached the door, I paused, looking back at Chris with a soft smile. “Thank you for last night,” I whispered, my heart swelling with emotion. Chris's eyes softened, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to my lips. “Always,”

I leaned in for a longer kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and savoring the moment. Chris melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist to hold me close. After a long moment, he reluctantly pulled back, his eyes searching mine. “I'll see you soon, ma,”

“Mmm...” I murmured, not wanting him to leave just yet. Chris chuckled softly, pressing a quick peck to my lips before trailing kisses along my jawline. “I have to go, ma. Before I get caught with you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

I sighed, reluctantly letting my arms fall from around his neck. “Okay. Be safe,” I said softly, my eyes already missing his presence. “I will” He leaned in and pecked my lips once more. He pulled away and gave me one last smoldering look before slipping out the front door and disappearing into the early morning light.

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chrisstvrns · 3 months ago

Text

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜.𝐬.

warnings: unresolved angst, secret pregnancy, breakup, abandonment, decision of being a single mother, please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3,333

oh, you were so excited. since you were a little girl you dreamed of being a mother. and when you started dating chris six years ago, you knew you wanted him to be there with you. you wanted to grow old with him, raise kids with him and watch your grandchildren grow up.

and now here you were, standing on the front porch of chris’ childhood home in boston, barely standing still as you anxiously yet excitedly fiddle with your rings. buried deep in your spacecamp wellness tote bag was the biggest secret, that in this moment, nobody besides you and God knew of.

you had texted chris, telling him that you needed to talk. within seconds, he answered, agreeing with you. you didnt know what he needed to talk about, but you had to tell him.

you knock on the door, the door immediately being opened by chris, who had a serious look on his face. you reach for his hands, gently taking them in yours.

he gives you a weak smile, pulling you close as he kisses your forehead, leading you inside. you walk into the living room, flashing nick and matt a quickly smile as they hurry out of the room, odd looks on their faces as they leave you and chris alone to talk in the now quiet house, since his parents had gone out.

“okay, so. i need to tell you something.” you reach for chris, who ignores your reaching arms, sitting next to you, a bit of a distance between you as he buries his face in his hands.

you knew how he was. when chris got like this—quiet, tense, distant—it meant something was weighing heavy on his heart. something he’d been thinking about for a long time, probably rehearsing how to say it in his mind for days, if not weeks. your chest tightened as you watched him, his elbows propped on his knees, fingers threading through his hair like he was trying to steady himself.

"chris?" your voice came out softer than you expected, your excitement from moments ago quickly being replaced by a gnawing pit of dread. you reached out again, but he didn't look at you. his silence said more than words ever could.

he sighed, dropping his hands and finally meeting your eyes, and that look—God, that look—hit you like a punch to the stomach. his eyes, usually so warm and full of love, were clouded with guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place. regret, maybe.

"i—" he started, then stopped, his jaw tightening. "i don’t even know how to say this." his voice cracked on the last word, and you could feel the tears welling up in your own eyes, unbidden, your throat tightening in response.

"chris, just say it. whatever it is, we can figure it out, okay?" you tried to sound steady, but your voice wavered, betraying the panic clawing at your chest.

he shook his head, leaning back and running his hands through his hair again. "i don’t think we can figure this out. that’s the thing," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

your stomach dropped.

"what... what are you talking about?" you asked, even though you already knew. you needed him to say it, to rip the band-aid off, even if it would tear you apart.

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and the pain in his eyes was almost unbearable. "i can’t do this anymore," he said finally, his words deliberate, each one cutting deeper than the last.

your hands fell into your lap, your heart shattering into a million pieces. "what do you mean? you... you can’t do us anymore?"

chris nodded, swallowing hard. "i’ve been thinking about this for a while," he admitted, his voice raw. "and i hate myself for it, but... i think it’s better if we end things now before we hurt each other more."

"hurt each other?" you echoed, your voice trembling. "chris, what are you even saying? we’re not hurting each other. i love you."

"and i love you too," he said quickly, his voice breaking. "but sometimes love isn’t enough. i feel like i’m holding you back, like i can’t give you what you deserve. you deserve someone who... who’s better at all of this than i am."

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "that’s not true. you’re everything to me. why are you doing this?"

he reached for your hand then, and you almost pulled away, but you couldn’t. even now, even as he was breaking your heart, you craved his touch.

"because i don’t want to be the reason you lose yourself," he said, his voice steady now, like he’d convinced himself that this was the right thing to do. "i’ve seen it happen before, and i can’t let it happen to you. i love you too much for that."

you opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that this was a mistake, but the words wouldn’t come. deep down, you could see that his mind was made up. the stubbornness that you loved about him was now the thing that would tear you apart.

chris stood, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before he pulled away. "i’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "you have no idea how much this hurts me."

“chris, stop. you.. you cant do this, not now..” you whisper, youre heart breaking as he stands up, beginning to walk away.

you softly chase after him, reaching for his arms, tearing streaming down your face. he faces you, gently taking your hands in his.

“i love you, baby. so much. but im doing this because i love you. i see the hate you get from my fans, and it kills me. it kills me so fucking much knowing that i cant do anything to stop it, no matter how many things i say to them. "and that's why i can't let this keep happening," chris said, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your trembling fingers. "you don’t deserve any of this. you don’t deserve to feel like you have to fight for your place in my life. none of it’s fair to you."

your chest tightened, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over. "but chris, i don’t care about any of that. the fans, the hate, the comments... none of it matters to me. you’re what matters. you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered."

he let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back his own tears. "but it should matter, baby. you say it doesn’t, but i see it. i see how it wears on you. you’ve stopped posting your art, stopped sharing the things you love because you’re scared of what they’ll say. i see how you smile less. and i can’t... i can’t live with knowing that i’m the reason for that."

"you’re not the reason for it," you argued, your voice desperate, shaking. "those people don’t even know me, chris. they’re just looking for someone to blame because they can’t have you for themselves. that’s not on you. that’s on them."

he shook his head, his grip on your hands tightening. "it doesn’t matter if it’s on them. it’s still happening because of me. and the longer we stay together, the worse it’ll get. you think it’s bad now? it’s only going to get harder. i can’t stand the thought of you going through that for me."

you felt your knees weaken, like the weight of his words was pressing down on you, suffocating you. "but don’t you see, chris? you’re worth it. we’re worth it. i don’t care how hard it gets, i’ll fight for us. i’ll fight every single day if it means i get to keep you."

his eyes glistened with unshed tears as he looked at you, his expression torn between love and heartbreak. "and that’s what kills me the most," he whispered. "you shouldn’t have to fight for us. love isn’t supposed to be like this. it’s supposed to be easy, and safe, and full of joy. and i... i can’t give you that right now. not the way you deserve."

"you’re wrong," you said, your voice barely audible, your heart breaking with every word. "love is worth fighting for. you’re worth fighting for."

he gently starts walking you toward the door, the fight to not cry visible on his face "you don’t understand, baby. this is me fighting for you. this is me trying to protect you from everything that comes with loving me. i don’t want you to look back in a few years and resent me for all the pain you went through just to be with me."

"i could never resent you," you said, your voice firm despite the tears streaming down your face. "never. you’re everything to me, chris. please, don’t do this. don’t throw us away because of something we can get through together."

he closed his eyes, his head bowing like he couldn’t stand to see the pain in your eyes anymore. "i’ve already made up my mind," he said softly, and those words hit you like a knife to the chest. "this is the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do, but i’m doing it because i love you. because i want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me."

"you are my happiness," you cried, your voice breaking. "don’t you get that? you’re all i need."

"and you’re all i’ll ever love," he said, his voice heavy with finality. "but sometimes love isn’t enough."

he leaned in and kissed your forehead one last time, his lips lingering there as though he was trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his memory forever. when he pulled away, you saw the tears streaming down his face, and it shattered you even more.

"i love you. im sorry" he whispered, his voice trembling as he softly pushed you out of his front door, his heart heavy with regret

you stood there, frozen, your entire world crumbling around you as you watched him slam the door in your face. your hand instinctively went to your tote bag, clutching it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. the secret you had been so excited to share—the little piece of him you were carrying, the piece of both of you—was now a weight you didn’t know how to bear alone.

"chris," you called out one last time, your voice a broken sob as you hoped he’d open the door again "please. the baby.." you whispered, your voice barely audible, a plea that hung heavy in the air.

but he didn’t say come back. he didnt open the door. you heard his footsteps get farther away, meaning hes going up to his bedroom, leaving you alone with nothing but memories of the past six years, the echo of his absence, and the secret you hadn’t been able to tell him.

you stood there, staring at the door that had just closed in your face, your breath caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp. the cold, boston air of january nipped at your cheeks, but it didn’t register. all you could focus on was the weight in your chest, the ache that had settled there as you stared at the house in front of you.

chris’ house. the house where it all began.

your eyes drifted to the porch below you, the same porch where you’d sat together as kids, eating popsicles in the summer and talking about everything from your favorite cartoons to your wildest dreams. you remembered how he’d teased you about the way you always peeled the wrappers off your popsicle sticks, how his laughter had filled the air and wrapped around you like the warmest embrace.

your gaze lingered on the window to the living room. you could almost see the two of you, years ago, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between you, arguing over which movie to watch. he always let you pick in the end, even when he pretended not to care about the cheesy rom-coms you loved so much.

and the backyard… God, the backyard. you could still picture the two of you running around barefoot, him chasing you with water balloons until you tripped and fell into the grass, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. it was in that backyard where he’d kissed you for the first time, his lips brushing against yours so softly you thought you might’ve imagined it. but you didn’t. it had been real. and it had been everything.

now, those memories felt like ghosts, haunting you as you stood there, clutching your tote bag like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. how could he do this? how could he shut the door on everything you’d built together? on all the years, all the love, all the promises whispered under the stars?

your eyes drifted to his bedroom window, and your heart clenched. you remembered sneaking in and out of that room, climbing the trellis late at night when you just couldn’t stand being apart for another second. the way he’d pull you into his arms the moment you made it inside, his voice low as he whispered, “you’re crazy for doing this, you know that?” but his smile always told you he didn’t mean it.

now, the window was dark. no light, no sign of him. just an empty, hollow void where he used to be.

you took a shaky breath, your hand instinctively going to your stomach as the weight of your secret pressed down on you. how could you have been so excited just moments ago? how could you have thought this was going to be the happiest day of your life, when now it felt like your world was ending?

tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, as if leaving would somehow mean letting go of everything. of him. of the life you’d imagined together.

your mind replayed his words over and over, each one cutting deeper than the last. “i can’t do this anymore… you deserve better… this is me fighting for you…”

you wanted to scream, to bang on the door until he opened it and let you in. until he saw that you were still standing there, ready to fight for him, for you, for everything you’d built. but you knew it wouldn’t change anything. his mind was made up.

and so you stayed, your feet frozen to the porch as you stared at the house that held every memory you’d ever shared with him. the house that had once felt like home.

but now, it felt like a stranger’s. cold, distant, and unreachable. just like him.

yet, back in the house, chris was a wreck. he broke up with you. he was sitting on his couch, face buried in his hands as nick makes his way back downstairs

“did you.. do it?” nick asks, sitting next to his brother.

chris couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. his hands trembled as they covered his face, tears streaming through his fingers. he nodded weakly, barely able to get the words out.

“yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i did it.”

nick let out a low breath, leaning back against the couch as he crossed his arms. he didn’t say anything right away, just studied his brother with a mix of pity and frustration.

“and how do you feel now?” nick finally asked, his voice cautious, careful not to push too hard.

chris shook his head, his hands dropping to his lap as he stared blankly at the coffee table. “like shit,” he admitted, his voice raw. “like i just ripped my own heart out.”

nick frowned, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “then why’d you do it? if it’s tearing you up this much, why push her away?”

chris sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. “because she deserves better,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she deserves a life without the hate, without the constant pressure of being with someone like me. she says she’s fine, but i see it, nick. i see how it’s breaking her, and i can’t… i can’t keep doing that to her.”

nick studied him for a moment, his brows furrowing. “and you think this is what’s best for her?”

“yeah,” chris said, though his voice wavered, as if he wasn’t entirely sure himself. “i mean.. it has to be. right?”

nick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, man, i get it. you think you’re protecting her, and maybe you are in some ways. but breaking her heart? breaking your own heart? that doesn’t sound like protection to me. it sounds like you’re running away.”

“i’m not running away,” chris snapped, his voice rising before he quickly deflated, his shoulders slumping. “i’m not. i just.. i love her too much to keep putting her through this. i don’t want her to hate me one day because of all the shit that comes with being with me.”

nick tilted his head, his expression softening. “and what if she never would? what if she meant it when she said you’re worth it?”

chris shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears again. “it doesn’t matter. i made my decision. it’s done.”

nick leaned back, letting out a long breath as he watched his brother unravel in front of him. “you’re stubborn as hell, you know that? but you’re also an idiot.”

“thanks, nick,” chris muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“no, seriously,” nick said, leaning forward again. “you’re sitting here, miserable as hell, and she’s probably out there feeling the same way. and for what? because you think you know what’s best for her? maybe—just maybe—you should’ve let her decide that for herself.”

chris didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he stared at the floor. nick sighed, standing up and giving his brother a pat on the shoulder.

“you’re gonna regret this, chris,” nick said quietly, his voice laced with a mix of sympathy and frustration. “and when you do, I hope it’s not too late to fix it.”

nick walked away, leaving chris alone on the couch, the silence of the house pressing down on him like a weight. he sat there for what felt like hours, replaying the moment he’d closed the door in your face, the sound of your voice—broken, desperate—echoing in his mind.

“please. the baby…”

the words hit him like a freight train, and he shot up from the couch, his heart racing.

“the baby?” he whispered to himself, his mind scrambling to make sense of it. had he heard you right? had you really said…

panic set in as the realization washed over him. if what you said was true, then he hadn’t just broken your heart—he’d walked away from something so much bigger, so much more important.

without thinking, chris grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, his chest heaving as he searched the street for any sign of you. but you were gone.

“damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the porch. he needed to find you. he needed to know if what you said was true, to explain himself, to tell you he’d made a mistake—a huge, life-altering mistake.

but deep down, he feared it was already too late.

he goes back into the house, now pacing his kitchen, periodically sipping from a can of pepsi.

“could’ve jus’.. yeah, she could’ve just been callin’ me ‘baby’, i mean, she always did.. shes not.. theres no way, she cant be..” he rambles, running his hand through his hair, his whole body nearly shaking.

you? you were already back home, crying your eyes out in bed as you held the test in your hand. were you really going to raise this baby on your own?

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: nearly threw up writing this

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst #rory's blog𝜗𝜚 #© chrisstvrns #auroras blog𝜗𝜚 #aurora's fanfics ੈ✩‧₊˚#⋆˙⟡ chrisstvrns #aurora's 'right where you left me' series °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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unknvhx · 3 months ago

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locked in.

four hours later, you stood on chris’ porch, your fist clenched tight as you glared at his door. the night air felt heavy against your skin, or maybe that was just the weight of your simmering frustration. you didn’t want to be here. you didn’t want to see him. but he had your keys, and there was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of leaving them behind.

the door swung open before you could knock, revealing chris, in his sweatpants, his usual cocky smirk firmly in place. his eyes dragged over you in that infuriating, lazy way that always made you want to slap him—or worse, made your heart beat in you pelvis. his eyes dragged over you with that lazy, infuriating air of superiority, like you were nothing but a small inconvenience to him.

“fuck” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “look who finally decided to show up.”

“shut the fuck,” you snapped, your voice sharp, as you brushed past him into the house.

you heard the soft click of the door closing behind you, and then the steady sound of his footsteps as he followed you into the living room. your boots clicked loudly on the hardwood floor, adding to the tension in the air.

“i just want my keys.”

chris shut the door with a soft thud, his smirk widening as he leaned against the wall, watching you with that same lazy amusement in his eyes.

“always so sweet to me,” he muttered, sarcasm thick in his voice.

You turned sharply to face him, your eyes flashing with irritation.

“maybe if you weren’t such an asshole, i’d be nicer.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a brat, i wouldn’t have to be,” he shot back, his tone mocking, as he took a step toward you. the space between you both felt charged, like the air was thick with some unspoken tension neither of you was willing to acknowledge.

you clenched your jaw, trying to keep your anger under control. “i don’t have time for this. just give me my damn keys.”

“they’re right there.” chris gestured nonchalantly toward the coffee table, but he didn’t move to step out of your way. instead, he planted himself in front of you, blocking your path with that familiar cocky grin.

“what’s the rush, ma? afraid of spending too much time alone with me?”

“get over yourself ,” you spat, voice dripping with contempt.

you shoved past him with as much force as you could muster, your heart pounding in your chest as you grabbed the keys from the table. you could feel his eyes on you, hot and burning as you bent down, and it only fueled the fire inside you.

“you’re so wound up,” Chris murmured, his voice low, mocking. “what happened to that mouth you had earlier? you seemed real confident when you told me to fuck off.”

you spun around, fists clenching at your sides, every muscle in your body tensing with fury.

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re predictable.” his tone shifted, darkening, the playful smirk falling from his lips as he took another step toward you.

“you come here acting all high and mighty, but we both know how this ends.”

“don’t start,” you warned, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed the edge you were trying to maintain.

chris chuckled, a low, guttural sound that rumbled in his chest as he closed the space between you. He was too close, too familiar. “you don’t want me to start?” his hand reached out, brushing against your hip in a way that was almost casual, but you knew better. his fingers curled around your waist, pulling you closer, and the rawness in his eyes only deepened.

“then why are you still standing here?”

“because you’re in my way,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

your breath caught in your throat, and you hated yourself for it. you hated the way your body responded to him, how it seemed to betray you in the worst way. you fought to hold your ground, but your pulse raced, betraying you.

he stepped aside, that smug grin still plastered on his face, pride radiated from him, his ego practically glowing with annoyance. he knew exactly what he was doing, and you, despite every ounce of resistance, knew you couldn’t walk away. you froze, caught in that moment, torn between what you wanted and what you knew you should do. your eyes flicker between the door and chris’ lips, still curled into that infuriating smirk.

“so, what are you waiting for?” he asks, his voice low and sharp.

your eyes snap back to his, but before you can even open your mouth to respond, he slams his lips into yours, fierce and demanding. the kiss was full of teeth and heat, raw and unrelenting. you let him take control, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his clothed back as your frustration and anger mingled in the kiss.

you stumbled backward, colliding with the couch, your bodies pressing together in a frantic tangle of limbs. his hands roamed over you, gripping your waist, sliding up your back, tangled in your hair as he pulled you down with him.

“i hate you,” you gasped, breathless, your body trembling.

“good,” he growled, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to make you gasp.

“then stop pretending this is anything else.”

you didn’t stop, not even when your movements grew frantic and uncoordinated, when everything else seemed to blur. it wasn’t about affection. it wasn’t about love. but beneath the tension, there was something else, something faint, a flicker of something neither of you understood. neither of you could admit it, not yet, but it was there. you both let yourselves believe it was about dominance, proving a point.

as you and chris entangle on the couch, his strong hands grip your waist possessively, pulling you closer as he buries his face in your neck. his breath is hot against your skin, mingling with the scent of his cologne and the faint sheen of sweat that forms between your bodies. your hands roam over his muscular chest and abs, feeling the firmness beneath your fingertips. his lips trail along your collarbone, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses. he unhooks your bra with a swift, practiced motion, tossing it aside carelessly.

you arch into him as he cups your breasts, thumbs circling your hardening nipples. he takes one into his mouth, suckling and nipping gently. your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against you, feeling his growing hardness through his jeans.

"still hate me?" he whispers against your lips, a cocky smirk playing across his face as he grinds into you. you nip at his bottom lip in response, digging your heels into his back. he chuckles darkly, one hand trailing down your stomach to the waistband of your pants.

“fuck you” you mutter, your words tangled in the heat of the kiss, as your body betrays the defiance in your voice.

"mouth's running again," he murmurs, hooking his fingers in your pants and slowly pulling them down. he tosses them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. he runs his hands over your thighs possessively, spreading them wider around his waist.

you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against you, even through his jeans. You look up at him with lust-filled eyes, unbuckling his belt and slowly unbuttoning his jeans. He lifts his hips to help you pull them down, revealing his boxers. his boxers and your last layers of restraint are discarded in one smooth, seamless motion. he fills you in a single, intense thrust, leaving you breathless, the sudden fullness making you gasp. his hands lock onto your hips, holding you firmly as he sets a slow, deliberate pace, each movement deep and controlled.

‘’fuck, you’re so big,” you gasp, your words breaking between moans as your body slowly adjusts to him, each movement making you tremble.

chills shoot through your body as he hilts himself deep inside you. his pace quickens, each thrust pushing you deeper into the cushions, the friction exquisite between your bodies.

he leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "you can take it"

your fingers dig into his back, your nails raking down his skin as he picks up the pace. you wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. he groans, his voice low and husky in your ear.

"fuck, you're so tight"

“you can take it,” your voice laced with a mocking edge, watching him with a challenging gaze, the air between us thick with tension. each word drips with defiance.

he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs up higher on his shoulders. he starts to thrust deeper, hitting spots inside you that make you arch your back.

you throw your head back, a loud moan escaping your lips as he hits a particularly deep spot. his hands grip your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down onto his lap. the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, mixed with your moans and his grunts. He leans back, pulling you with him, never breaking the rhythm. "ride me then’’

he murmurs, hooking his fingers in your pants and slowly pulling them down. he tosses them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. he runs his hands over your thighs possessively, spreading them wider around his waist.

you start to move, bouncing up and down on his lap, taking him deep inside you with each movement. he watches you, his eyes dark and intense, his hands guiding your hips. you feel his cock throbbing inside you, growing even harder with each roll of your hips. his control seems to slip as he surges forward, knocking you onto your back again. he pins your wrists above your head, looming over you with a fierce, hungry expression.

‘’fuck”

you gasp as he flips you over, the tight knot in your stomach twisting with each powerful thrust. your eyes roll back, your head tipping further as your hips instinctively arch into him, the intensity of every movement sending shockwaves through you.

‘’fuck, I’m close”

you breathe out, the words barely escaping as the pressure inside you builds, your body trembling with each deep thrust. the heat between you two intensifies, every movement pushing you closer to the edge. you skin feels electrified, every nerve alive with the sensation, and you can’t help but meet him with urgency, your hips grinding in sync, desperate for release.

he pounds into you relentlessly, his hips slapping against yours with each thrust. the headboard bangs against the wall, the sound echoing through the room. he releases one of your wrists to reach between your legs, rubbing your clit in harsh, rapid circles.

"come on, fucking soak my cock"

the words push you over the edge, and suddenly, your orgasm crashes through you, overwhelming your senses. your body trembles as the intense wave of pleasure rips through you, your bundle of nerves finally coming undone. your nails dig into his back, searching for something to hold onto as you shudder beneath him, breathless and caught in the aftermath. “shit,” you gasp, the pleasure still pulsing through your body as it slowly fades.

he continues to thrust through your orgasm, dragging it out as long as possible. feeling your walls clench around him, he loses control, slamming into you one last time before stilling, pouring himself into you. a primal sound escapes his throat as he collapses against your chest. "fuck."

when it was over, you both collapsed onto the couch, chest heaving, bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in the aftermath. you pushed yourself up, your limbs shaky as you reached for your discarded shirt. with a frustrated tug, you pulled it over your head, the motion sharp and irritated, as if the fabric couldn’t come fast enough to shield you from what just happened.

he pulls his shirt on, the fabric clinging to his sweat-slicked chest. he sits there, arm draped over the back of the couch, staring at nothing in particular. his mind is reeling, trying to make sense of the intensity of the moment.

“next time, don’t lose your keys,”

chris muttered, his voice low and rough, still laced with the remnants of tension. you glared at him, pulling the shirt over your head.

“next time, I’m not calling you.”

he smirked, leaning back into the cushions with that same infuriating ease. “sure, ma. whatever you say.”

you slammed the door behind you, but both of you knew the truth.

you’d be back.

wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is a continuation from texts with ★ fwb!chris. it’s abit long and my first ever smut piece so feedback and support would be greatly appreciated! thankyou so much for the likes and reblogs on the texts series!

if you want to be tagged in any future posts related to this pairing, fwb!chris pieces, or any work in general, comment on my taglist post or dm me <3

©unknvhx

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guiltyc0nscience · 4 months ago

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⋆˙⟡ tough love, chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis. in which you and chris struggle to confront your growing distance and fear of losing each other.

warnings. arguments, fear, insecurity, mention of emotional exhaustion, walking out, angst.

word count. 447 words.

authors note. just something quick to put out <3

you leaned against the cold kitchen counter, the ticking of the clock on your apartment wall cutting through the silence like shards of glass. the air was heavy, suffocating, filled with unsaid words and lingering tension. chris was seated at the small dining table, his hands wrapped around a pepsi can that had gone lukewarm.

the kitchen used to be your safe space. you’d laugh here, stealing bites of each others food and chasing each other around the cramped space while laughing your asses off. now, the distance between you felt unbearable.

“i don’t know how to fix this,” you finally said, your voice trembling but steady enough to reveal your exhaustion. your arms crossed over your chest, not as a sign of defiance but as a way to protect yourself from falling apart.

chris didn’t look up right away. his gaze stayed fixed on the blue can in front of him, fizzing noises coming out of the can. when he finally met your eyes, they were clouded, conflicted. “i don’t think you even want to,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, carrying the weight of nights spent arguing and mornings filled with silence.

“that’s not fair,” you shot back, your heart clenching. “i’ve been trying. god, chris, i’ve been trying so hard—“

“then why does it feel like i’m the only one fighting?” chris interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut through your defences. he pushed the chair back with a groan, standing up and pacing the small space as if moving would ease the chaos in his mind.

you stepped closer, your fingers twitching as if you wanted to reach for him but you didn’t dare. “i’m here, aren’t i? i’m still here.”

chris stopped pacing and turned to face you, his jaw set tight. “being here physically isn’t enough, y/n. you’re not really here anymore”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut. you blinked, your throat tightening. “you think i don’t feel the same about you? that i don’t miss what we had?”

“then why won’t you let me in?” he demanded, his voice rising. “every time i try to talk to you, you just shut me out. you just—“

“i don’t shut you out!” you yelled, the crack in your voice betraying you. “i don’t shut you out, chris. im just—“ you stopped, struggling to find the words, your breathing uneven. “i’m just scared, okay? scared of how far we’ve drifted from each other.”

chris’ expression softened, but only slightly. he stepped closer, his voice quieter now. “we’re already falling apart, y/n. we can’t keep pretending like we’re not. but if you’re too scared to even try, then…maybe there really isn’t anything left.”

your lips parted to respond, but nothing came out. the silence that followed was deafening, and in they moment, the distance between you felt insurmountable.

chris’ shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair. “i need to go clear my head,” he muttered, grabbing his car keys from the table.

“chris…” you started, but he shook his head.

“i’ll be back,” he said softly, though his voice lacked conviction. and with that, he walked out the door, leaving you alone with the echoes of what was slipping away.

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lumiambrose · 9 months ago

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kaiser x reader, watching his practice

kaiser knows he’s being watched, he always does, especially when it’s your eyes on him. bm was having one of their open practice sessions today where members of the public could watch the upcoming stars and their raw potential. of course, the training grounds tonight were filled to the brim. you being the amazing partner you are, decided to drop by with some of your friends, all fully enjoying the show being put on.

he feels your eyes on him as he dances across the field almost too easily. each step, each turn, calculated, a display of his sheer talent and confidence. and he knows damn well he looks good doing it.

you sit on the sidelines with your friends, trying to focus on your current debate over the very important topic of who's hotter, chris prince or noel noa, but to no avail you were constantly distracted by his presence. honestly, it’s hard not to watch him, especially when he keeps glancing your way, a smirk tugging at his lips every time he catches your eye.

“show-off,” you mutter under your breath, your friends giggling in response, knowing you damn well love it. i mean, you can’t really deny the flutter in your chest whenever he looks your way.

kaiser, displeased with your reaction, decides to take it up a notch. he calls for the ball, dribbling it effortlessly between his feet before using his kaiser impact to score into the top corner of the net. the crowd is applauding and going wild, but kaiser only has eyes for you, raising an eyebrow as if to say, “did you see that?”

you roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“come on, kaiser! stop flirting and get back to practice!” one of his teammates calls out, laughter in his voice.

kaiser just shrugs, jogging back to his position, but not before blowing you a sly kiss. you feel your face heat up, quickly burying into the shoulder of your friend to hide your blush.

practice continues, but kaiser’s attention is split between the drills and you. he loves showing off, especially when you’re watching. kaiser wants your entire being to be consumed by him. he wants your eyes on him and him alone. whenever he catches your watching him, a fire is lit up inside of him, making him play even better.

as the session comes to an end, kaiser slowly makes his way over to you and your little group, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his jersey, flashing his abs, doing absolute wonders on you and his audience.

“enjoy the show?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

you look up, finally facing him with a smirk. “maybe a little. you weren’t too bad out there.”

he laughs, running a hand through his damp hair. “only ‘not too bad’? i’ll have to try harder next time, schatz.”

you shake your head, standing up and stretching. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

he steps closer, his eyes glinting mischievously. “only because you make me want to be.”

before you can respond, he pulls you into a deep kiss, full of desire. it’s enough to leave you breathless, and as he pulls away, you can see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“come on,” he says, grabbing your hand. “let’s get out of here.”

you quickly apologise to your friends as you scurry off. hand in hand, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride when it comes to kaiser. his antics are nothing new, never ceasing to give you a headache, but you can’t help but feel the utmost happiness for him. and god are you proud to be his.

god i hate writing the endings of fics.

anyways "schatz" -> darling (literally translated: treasure)

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pookietv · 5 days ago

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lost in translation (part two) | george clarke

hello again!! tysm for the love on part one, i hope you enjoy this one!!

you couldn't even remember whose idea it was to go out - just a couple texts in the groupchat announcing that a 'night out was long overdue', and a couple hours later most of the group were trawling along local bars.

you were just happy becky agreed to come - although the unfortunate nature of being friends with becky meant being fed shots at an alarmingly inhuman rate. but hey, that was what a night out was for, right?

at least that had been what you figured whilst you were throwing yourself around the dancefloor, drunkenly slurring lyrics of whatever song played to those around you, laughing at arthur hill's dance moves and being bashed into in the crowded room.

as time had moved on however, the shots caught up far too quickly for your liking, and you became a walking mess. air was the best idea, you figured, beelining to the closest exit to let yourself breathe in oxygen that wasn't muddled with the smell of strangers and sambuca shots.

you rested against the brick wall, your bare shoulders cooled by the cold cinder block and attempted to regain some of your senses, running your hands through your hair and resting against your scalp trying to ground yourself.

after a couple of minutes of standing there, you turned to go back in again, slightly revived by the moment alone, when your eyes met a familiar man. george.

you wished he didn't look as good as he did. he had allowed his hair to grow, and it had turned into a waved mullet that suited him almost too well, paired with a black cotton polo shirt and brown corduroy esque jeans to match.

"you feeling okay?" he said, and you felt as if his eyes bore into you. you didn't know how long he'd been there, and you felt a little embarrassed.

"yeah. fine." you murmured back, walking back into the bar before another word could be exchanged between the two of you. it was too awkward, not now. not whilst you were half-gone in a overcrowded bar.

when you rejoined the group, you were instantly faced with a line of shots and a grin on chris' face that was enough to make you scoff lightheartedly.

"c'mon, you can't be written off already?" he teased, holding the baby guinness up with a grin.

"of course not," you smiled back, taking the baby guinness with pride and gulping it down.

not your wisest move, turned out. between that shot, the two tequilas that will dragged you into and another vodka cranberry, the room felt like it had an orbit around you.

some guy, not in your group, had made his way towards you, hands invading against your waist as you could barely push him away, voice betraying you as any insults or pleads for him to fuck off refused to leave your mouth.

after what felt like your thousandth time tripping on your own feet, you accidentally fell over, knocking yourself against someone's feet.

when you looked up to see george, you cursed to yourself. of course it was him, who else could you embarrass yourself publicly in front of?

his eyes fell to you first, then upwards to see the man who had been uncomfortably dancing with you, "c'mon, you need another minute outside," he said, voice authoritative but not tough enough to sound like a barking order, large hand tucking under your arm to help you up from the floor, gently wrapped around your wrist as he helped you towards the door and through the crowd.

once you were outside, the strained silence hit for another moment, indecisive whether you should look at him or the floor, until he broke the dead air.

"you think it's time to head home?" he asked, the prompt almost silently comforting.

"that's what you want, hm? me to go, so you don't have to worry about me being here?" you bit, not allowing yourself more than a glance at him.

his head shook, falling to the ground for a moment, "that's... you're being silly, that's not what i said,"

"well.. 's what you're thinking, though," you chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, "that's what you must be thinking all the time,"

"that is absolutely the last thing i'm thinking. i just want you to be safe, and you're not very... safe in there," he said, eyes leading to the door for a moment, before flicking back to you,

"'m just confused as to why you hate me. we were close, weren't we? that wasn't me misjudging anything, i know that. you were practically.. like my best friend in the group, and then you just went all.. weird. so it's got to be something i did, no?" you drunkenly mumbled, flush from the alcohol and the conversation invading your cheeks.

"you.. you didn't do anything, i just-" he paused, almost as if catching himself, furrowed eyebrows and a slight sigh, "just let me take you home so i know you're okay, please?"

"i can get myself home." you murmured, not sure whether you were rejecting his offer to take you home out of spite or embarrassment.

"listen, i'll just drop you to your door, and-" he tried to reason.

"-no. i'll uber," you cut in, the alcohol circuiting your system making your words sharper than you would usually speak, even to someone you disliked. "you should go back in and find everyone, george."

"are you.." he started a question and cut himself off, like the suggestion of discussing this was an idiotic idea, "if you won't let me make sure you're safe, at least message and let me know you get home safe." he stated.

you felt a soft snort leave your mouth.

"sure, whatever george." you murmured.

watching him walk away with a dejected look on his face was the last possible thing you could have expected from tonight.

as soon as you were in the cab home, your head was spinning with more than alcohol. any conversation with george left you with more questions than answers.

why did he care about how you were getting home, or offering to take you himself?

he barely spoke a word to you outside group settings, and now he felt some kind of obligation for you?

he must have known as well as you that you'd get home safe at the end of the night - the friend group was always good with ensuring things like that, especially the girls.

the rhythmic hum of the uber didn't help soothe any thoughts. was he pitying you, seeing you as some pathetic mess that hadn't handled drinks?

it was almost how he used to be with you - caring, helpful, normal. george who would actually listen to you ramble this kind of internal nonsense and be a comfort without even having to verbalise it?

the taxi pulled up to your apartment block, the jolt pulling you out of your own thoughts. paying and quickly hurrying inside, standing in the elevator, you fumbled for your phone. you couldn't bring yourself to message george privately - you probably hadn't texted in months.

you opted for the groupchat, sending a quite 'home safe!' and replies from becky and chris came quick, with 'glad you're okay!' and 'get some sleep you drunken idiot'.

the read receipts revealed george had seen it, and you felt weird to feel disappointed that there was no response from him.

unlocking your door and walking inside, sliding heels off and leaning yourself against the corridor wall, the silence only furthered any questions.

you couldn't put your finger on any of them to provide yourself any explanation, the night feeling like some weird lingering dream. all you could say with confidence was you were more unsure of anything between you and george than ever, a simple offer to make sure you got home okay leaving you far more confused than any of the alcohol.

#george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarke #george clarkey #georgeclarkey fic #georgeclarke fic #georgeclarkey x reader #georgeclarke x reader

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nuyhado3o · 3 months ago

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My tempo

Bang Chang x afab!reader

Warnings: SMUTTT!!!!MDNI!!!!, manhandling, hair pulling, MANHANDLINGG, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yall), Chan has his tempo and he is serious abt it.

Summary: You wait backstage after your boyfriend Chris's incredible concert. Your intense attraction leads to a passionate and steamy encounter in a dressing room. Your connection promises more fiery moments in the future.

As the pulsating beats of the final song reverberated through the packed arena, You stood backstage, your heart racing with anticipation. She was the girlfriend of Chris, the charismatic and wildly popular idol who had just delivered an electrifying performance. The crowd's roars of approval echoed in your ears, but your focus was solely on the man who owned her heart.

Your eyes scanned the stage, searching for Chris amidst the chaos of the crew dismantling the set. Finally, you spotted him, his tall, muscular frame striding towards the wings with an air of confidence and raw energy. His dark hair was slick with sweat, and his piercing gaze scanned the backstage area until it landed on you. A devilish smile curved his lips as he approached, his eyes holding a promise of pleasure and passion.

"You were incredible out there," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. Chris's performance had been nothing short of mesmerizing, his powerful vocals and hypnotic stage presence captivating thousands of adoring fans. But now, you wanted him all to yourself.

Chris chuckled, his deep laugh sending shivers down your spine. "Baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "I've been waiting all night to have you alone."

Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist, his strong hands possessive and demanding. You gasped as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. The rough fabric of his jeans brushed against your inner thighs, igniting a fire deep within your core.

"Chris, put me down," you protested weakly, even as your body betrayed you, craving his touch. He laughed again, his breath hot on your neck, and carried you towards an empty dressing room, his strides purposeful and determined.

The door slammed shut behind you, the sudden silence broken only by their heavy breathing. Chris pinned you against the wall, his body caging you in, and claimed your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. You tasted the salt of his sweat and the sweetness of his desire as his tongue invaded your mouth, demanding submission.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You could feel his erection, hard and insistent, pressing against your through their layers of clothing. Chris's kiss deepened, his tongue stuling with yours, and his hands roamed over your body, mapping your curves with urgency.

With a growl, he tore his mouth from yours and began to strip you, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your blouse. He peeled the fabric from your shoulders, exposing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. "You're so fucking beautiful," he rasped, his eyes dark with desire.

Your cheeks flushed with pleasure at his words, your nipples hardening beneath the thin lace. Chris's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He squeezed gently, rolling your nipples between his fingers, and you arched into his touch, craving more.

"Please, Chris," you begged, her voice breathless. "I need you."

He grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you'll have me, baby. But first, I wanna hear you scream my name."

Chris lowered his head, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in your wake. He nipped at your sensitive skin, his teeth grazing gently, before sucking hard, marking you as his own. Your head fell back against the wall, your eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure washed over you.

His hands traveled lower, unzipping your skirt and pushing it down your hips, leaving you clad only in your lingerie. Chris's fingers traced the lace waistband of your panties, teasing you, before dipping beneath the fabric to find your wetness.

"So fucking wet," he growled, his voice thick with need. "You've been thinking about this all night, haven't you?"

You could only nod, your breath coming in short gasps as his fingers delved into your folds, stroking you clit with expert precision. He thrust two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your entrance, and you moaned, your hips thrusting forward, seeking more friction.

"That's it, baby, ride my hand," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "But I wanna hear you beg for my cock."

Chris's fingers worked you relentlessly, his thumb rubbing your sweet spot with each thrust, driving her closer to the edge. Your body trembled, your knees weak, as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm.

"Please, Chris, I can't take it anymore," you pleaded, your voice hoarse. "Fuck me, please."

With a low, satisfied chuckle, Chris withdrew his hand, leaving your body throbbing with need. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours, and quickly shed his clothes, revealing his chiseled physique and the thick, throbbing length of his cock.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, your body aching to be filled. Chris grasped you by the waist and lifted you again, positioning you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist.

"You ready for this?" he growled, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his. "Yes, Chris, please."

With one swift thrust, he impaled you, filling you completely, his cock stretching you to the limit. You cried out, your head thrown back, as a mixture of pleasure and pain coursed through you. Chris's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place, as he began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with relentless force.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Tight little pussy, made for my cock."

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he pounded into you, his pace relentless. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your heavy breathing and moans.

Chris leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You like that, huh? My big dick pounding your sweet pussy?"

"Yes, Chris, yes," you panted, your body trembling with each thrust. "Harder, please, fuck me harder."

He obliged, his hands tightening on your thighs, his grip almost painful as he slammed into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each powerful stroke. Your orgasm built, a coiling tension in your core, as Chris's words and actions pushed you closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he urged, his voice hoarse. "Let me feel that tight pussy milking my cock."

His words were her undoing. Your body convulsed around him, your inner walls clenching and releasing as your orgasm crashed over you. You cried out, your head thrown back, your long hair cascading down your back. Chris continued to thrust through your climax, his pace never faltering, his own release building.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his voice strained. "I'm gonna come, baby, gonna fill you up."

His words spurred you on, and Your body responded, your inner muscles clenching around him, milking his cock as he pumped his hot seed deep inside you. Chris's body stiffened, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, as he emptied himself into you, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

For a moment, you remained frozen, your bodies joined, hearts pounding in unison. Chris's forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours, as you savored the aftermath of your passionate encounter.

"That was fucking incredible," he whispered, his voice hoarse with satisfaction. "You're amazing, baby."

You smiled, her body still buzzing with pleasure. "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Superstar."

Chris chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You ain't seen nothin' yet.This is just the beginning."

As he gently lowered you to the floor, you knew that their night was far from over. Chris's insatiable desire and your own craving for his touch would fuel your passion, ensuring that this backstage encounter was just the first chapter in your steamy, erotic story.

#did i mention mdni #RECS ARE OPENNN #nuyhado3o #kpop #stray kids #stray kids smut #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #smut #kpop x reader #Spotify

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whore4mattsturniolo · 19 hours ago

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Right My Wrongs - A Dealer!Chris Mini-Series

He thought he was past it. past her. But one glance and everything split open. The anger, the ache, the part of him that still waited for her to explain why she left. And worse, the part of him that would forgive her if she did.

The air of the house was thick and hot, saturated in weed, perfume, and sweat. Music bumped the walls loud enough to go deaf, everything shaking and vibration with the beat. Chris stood at the edge of the room, a drink in his hand, eyes scanning the crowd. He tried to focus. Focus on himself, focus on making his money. The party was loud and suffocating. He took another drink, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb him.

And then he saw her.

She was standing in the corner of the room, laughing with a group of people, her familiar face like a ghost from his past. She still struts around like the world belongs to her, all gold hoops and red nails and that same smile. His stomach tightened, and for a moment, everything else faded. The laughter, the music, the stifling heat of the room, all of it disappeared. It’s just her and him. Memories flood his head, suffocating and painful, memories that made his throat dry and his chest tight. He didn’t even want to look at her, but his eyes betrayed him. She caught his gaze and, for a brief second, something flicked in her expression. She gave him a soft smile, trying to say something without speaking.

Chris immediately looked away, slamming the rest of his drink back. He turned his back to her, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickens, how his chest grew tight like the weight of all those old memories is crushing him. But it doesn’t stop her.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even blink. He just stares. The world around him goes quiet, the music distorts, faces blur into nothing.

He’s back in his old room, sixteen, still living with his parents. The room is dimly lit, a quiet draft coming through his window. The walls are paper-thin and the air stinks of smoke and the perfume she wore too much of.

She’s on his lap, whispering something in his ear. Something about how he’s too soft, too good, how that’s why she loves him. Her fingers trail down his chest, but her eyes are sharp, almost like she’s searching for weakness. And he ignores it. He looks at her like she’s the only thing that matters to him. Like she’s the love of his life, the only one who understands him.

“You and me,” she mumbles. “Always.” She kisses him before he can get a full word out. She swallows his anxiety, his nervousness, until all he can think of is her.

He never saw her after that. Not when he was getting searched by campus security. Not when he was dragged off campus in handcuffs. She acted like she never even knew him. Like the sweet moments they shared were nothing more than a faded dream.

Later in the night, as the party died down, she found him again. Alone this time. She walks up to him, hesitant, twiddling her thumbs in anxiety, but clearly determined, as she stumbles over to his corner of the room.

“Chris,” she says softly, and just hearing her voice makes his insides twist. “I…didn’t think you’d be here.”

He doesn’t speak, just lifts his cup to his lips, only to realize it’s empty. He takes a long breath, his grip tightening on the cup in his hand. He could walk away any time he wanted. He could leave, go find another spot, anywhere that she isn’t, but he stays. He’s not sure why.

“You look good,” she murmurs, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. “I’ve…been meaning to talk to you.”

“No.” His voice is cold, sharper than it needs to be. He doesn’t want to be around her. He doesn’t want to feel anything when she’s near him. She stands there for a moment, waiting for him to say something more, but he just glares at the floor, his shoulders stiff. The silence stretches, and you can almost see the tension radiating off him. “Don’t lie.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, covering her nervousness at the harshness of his words. He was nothing like the Chris she knew in high school. “I’m not—I’m not lying, Chris.” His name on her tongue is like venom, her voice poisoning him.

He lets out a bitter, sharp breath that might’ve started as a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. It’s jagged, cruel. He’s not some scared, shaky kid anymore, too scared to even smoke a joint. He’s not the kid that stared at her like she walked on water. “Fuck are you even doin’ down here?,” he asks, his tone flat.

“Does it matter?” She says, running her fingers through her silky hair. “I know things between us ended…kinda bad but…I really have been meaning to talk—”

He cuts her off, voice barely containing the anger seeping into his words. “You coulda talked to me when I was getting searched. You coulda talked to me when I was in juvi for a year. You coulda talked to me any time in the past five fucking years.” She flinches at the heat of his words, growing louder with each breath, before he calms himself down. He’s shaking, vulnerability leaking through the tough exterior he’s been keeping up for years now.

She sighs, stepping closer to him, almost in defeat. “I was scared, Chris,” she says, her voice soft. “I didn’t…I didn’t know what was gonna happen.” Chris’ eyes lock on hers, his stare more aggressive than anything he could do to her.

“No,” he says flatly. “You don’t get to do that. You knew what happened. You watched.” The words spill out before he can stop them. Everything he’s been holding in for years, the anger, the abandonment, the pain. It comes flooding to the surface. His breath quickens. He wants to scream, to run away from everything. But he doesn’t. Instead, he swallows hard and takes another step back.

“I tried—”

“You didn’t try shit.” His voice cracks on the last word. Not from weakness, just the effort it’s taking to hold it together. “When shit got hard, you ran.” Her face crumples for half a second before she catches herself. She takes a step toward him, hand halfway out like she might touch him, and he flinches, recoiling like she was a hot flame grazing his skin.

“I was a kid, Chris. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know how to fix it. None of us did—”

“You didn’t wanna fix it.” His response is immediate, sharp. “I was a kid too.” He swallows hard, his throat tight, constricting his heavy breaths.

“I—I'm clean now.” She closes the distance, trying again, gently. “I’ve changed,” she whispers. Her face falls slightly, but she presses on, like she’s trying to find the right words, trying to get through to him.

Chris shakes his head, jaw clenched so hard it aches. “You getting clean doesn’t undo what you did.” His expression is unreadable, too still, too empty. The kind of calm that only exists right before something explodes.

“Don’t come near me again. Do what you’ve been doing the past five years…and stay the fuck away from me.”

Her lips part, like she wants to protest. Like she has something left to say, something that’ll convince him to forgive her, forget the past, and come back to her. She looks at him, her face a mixture of guilt and confusion. But Chris doesn’t wait for her response. He turns his back on her and walks away, weaving through the crowd, his heart racing, every step feeling like a weight on his chest. But as he walks, it’s clear that he’s the one who’s not letting go. It’s not about her anymore. It’s about him. About the way she shattered him, and how he’s been trying to put himself back together ever since.

Chris couldn’t get her out of his head. The sound of her voice, the way her eyes softened when she saw him. He was pissed. But above all, he was hurting. He had every right to be. The anger was starting to slip away, the swelling and aching of his heart taking its place. The pain that had been buried for years. The hurt that came from being discarded, being the one everyone turned their back on. Even when he fought for them. It was too much. It always was. Too much, and somehow not enough.

He’d buried the feeling deep down inside him. The rejection, the abandonment. And here it was again. Here she was again. The girl who’d broken him. The girl who made him who he is. He was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to be tougher. He’d numbed every part of himself with drugs, with sex, with everything.

He couldn’t let himself break.

The night after was worse. The walls Chris had spent years building were cracking, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down. He’d spent hours trying to drink it away, trying to forget it. The weed wasn’t enough this time. He needed more.

You had been texting him, but he ignored every message. He needed the space. Needed to stay frozen. And yet, the longer he stayed away from you, the more the emptiness took over. He couldn’t stay away, but it was all he knew how to do.

The night swallowed Chris whole the second the door shut behind him. He walked fast. No direction, just away. Away from everything. His hoodie was on inside out. He didn’t care.

The streets were damp. His fingers trembled when he pulled out his phone and scrolled past your name. Straight to another one. A plug. Not weed. Something stronger. He needed something stronger.

Maybe to shut his brain off, silence the loud, angry thoughts raging through his head. Maybe to feel nothing for a while. He told himself it was just to take the edge off. He’d sleep. He’d forget. It was better than crying, better than screaming into the dark like a kid, better than being weak.

The meetup was fast. Impersonal. Like everything else in his life.

Two white pills, swallowed dry. A half bottle of something bitter to chase it. Then…nothing. Numbness. As the wave of euphoric washed over him, pushing him into the soft mattress of his darkened room, he almost felt good. He felt normal. Until he didn’t. The pain still throbbed in his heart, a dullness that didn’t go away, not even when his head started floating.

All he could think about was her.

The flash of familiar eyes across the crowd. Her. Laughing like nothing happened. Wearing the same perfume. Smiling at him like she hadn’t ruined his life and then walked away.

He didn’t say anything to anyone. Just turned and left like a ghost. Told no one. Not even you. What would he even say?

Hey, the girl who ruined my life is back and I think I’m losing my mind?

Fuck no. He’d rather be numb.

He laid on the floor of his apartment now, staring at the ceiling, shirt half off, heartbeat crawling under his skin. He hated this. Hated how empty he felt.

But most of all: he hated how much he couldn't escape it.

#✞ whore4matt #✞ dealer!chris x stoner!reader #✞ dealer!chris #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolos #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x reader

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moonlightdreamzz · 4 months ago

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late nights — bang chan, hyunjin, wooyoung, and niki. ♡

it feels so good to be seen and loved, especially after an exhausting day.

bang chan

truthfully, you don’t even know how you made it here in one piece—here, being chris’ studio. utterly exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it, but the day is finally over, and you’re holding onto that small grace. not like you have much of a choice, right?

your eyes flutter shut for just a second as you lean against the door, the light thud startling you back to the moment. you laugh quietly at yourself, embarrassed by how ready your body was to believe this was the end of the day, before finally pushing the door open.

you and chris share the same curse: you work too hard, and far too much. so, it doesn’t surprise you to see him exactly as you left him this morning—headphones on, hunched over his computer, eyes flickering across the screen. even from the doorway, you can hear the bass pumping loud enough to feel it in your chest.

you weren’t planning on saying anything. the couch beside his desk had your name written all over it, and all you wanted was to curl up and let sleep take over until he was ready to leave. but somehow, you find enough strength to call out to him.

“baby.”

it’s almost immediate, the way his head snaps toward you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on yours. it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. his headphones are off in seconds, tossed carelessly onto the desk. that alone tells you everything—he must think you look even worse than you feel.

he doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms wide, inviting you in. and how could you ever say no to him? you drag your feet across the room, collapsing into his lap without a second thought. his arms wrap around you tightly, and for the first time all day, you feel like you can finally exhale.

“you had a long day, didn’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

all you can do is nod, burying yourself deeper into his neck. he smells just like he did this morning, warm and familiar, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. neither of you moves for what feels like forever, but it’s the kind of forever you could get used to. his touch says everything words can’t—how much he missed you, how much he hates seeing you this tired, how much he loves you.

you want to tell him you should go home, that you need a proper bed, but you can’t. you know how important his work is, and you’d never forgive yourself for making him feel guilty about staying.

but then his voice breaks the silence, low and soft. “i think i’m done for the night.”

your head snaps up, searching his face for any sign he’s joking. “no, baby. i’m fine. keep working,” you say quickly, even as your body betrays you and leans back into his chest. the guilt creeps up before you can stop it.

his thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes lock on yours with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “the only thing i want to do is go home, run you a bath, and hold you while you fall asleep. this can wait until tomorrow. you’re the most important thing to me, and i need you to know that.”

he kisses you softly, and when he pulls back, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “besides,” he adds with a wink, “if i don’t take care of you, who’s going to remind me to take care of myself?”

hyunjin

you and your man were both terribly sleepy babies. no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for each other on late nights, one of you always gave in first. it was a routine by now: a simple “i love you” text signaling surrender to the pull of a memory foam mattress or an irresistibly soft couch. there was never any guilt, just understanding.

but this month? this month has been unrelenting. you’ve been in full girl boss mode, pushing through deadlines and back-to-back meetings, while hyunjin has been caught up in the chaos of a comeback. you can’t even remember the last time you sat down together for dinner, watched a show, or just existed in the same moment. you miss it. you miss him.

when his schedule was calmer, hyunjin stayed with you as much as he could. but now, the dorm has him locked down. as you punch in your door code, you sigh, already feeling the emptiness of your apartment. you wish he were here—even if it meant finding him passed out on the couch, mouth slightly open, barely coherent as you whispered him awake and tugged him to bed

tonight, though, there’s no detour. no lingering in the kitchen or collapsing on the couch. you head straight to your room, already peeling off your jacket as you close the door behind you. exhaustion weighs heavy on you, but something feels… off.

your heart stutters. someone’s here.

you freeze. open your eyes, idiot, you scold yourself. slowly, you do, and your breath catches in your throat

there, glowing like a dream, stands hyunjin. a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his smile stretching so wide his eyes crinkle shut. he’s radiant, like he stepped out of your imagination, but he’s real.

“baby,” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. “what… how are you here? i thought—”

you don’t get the words out, too stunned to string them together. he steps closer, slow and steady, placing the roses and wine into your hands before cupping your face and kissing you, soft and sure. his lips feel like coming home

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your ear. “it’s been hell not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. i’ve been trying so hard to wait, but when i called you this morning and heard how tired you sounded… i had to be here. i couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment tonight.

you melt into his arms, burying your face in his chest as his words sink in. “i knew it,” you say suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smirk spreading across your face. “you really can’t stay away from me. i’m irresistible, huh?”

he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and rich, making his whole body shake as he leans his forehead against yours. “shut up,” he grins, but his eyes are so full of love you can feel it in your bones.

The he cups your face again, pressing his lips back to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. this one is different—hungrier, deeper, filled with everything he’s been holding back. his right hand gently takes the flowers and wine from you, tossing them onto the couch as if they’re the least important thing in the world.

“you’ve been stressed too, baby,” you murmur between kisses, your hands sliding up his chest as he pulls you closer. “you want me to make it better? take your mind off everything?”

“please,” he breathes, the single word trembling with desperation.

and that’s all it takes for the two of you to let go of everything else—the stress, the distance, the long days apart. tonight, it’s just you and him.

wooyoung

i know that the last conversation we had didn’t end on a good note. and i know you’re still trying to process everything going on with us and probably don’t want to see me. but I can’t help but feel like you’re exhausted and need something to take your mind off of everything you have going on right now. regardless of what we’re going through rn, i love you and I’ll always be here to make things better.

your heart aches as you read wooyoung’s text.

i’m outside. take your time. i’ll wait for you.

you didn’t think you’d hear from him tonight—not after the way your last conversation had ended. but that’s wooyoung, always showing up when you need him most, even when things between you feel fragile and uncertain.

you grab your jacket and step outside, the chill in the air catching you off guard. but then you see him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, his hair a little messy, his expression soft despite the exhaustion etched into it.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world stills.

without a word, he opens the car door for you. as you slide into the passenger seat, you feel the familiar warmth of his presence settle over you like a blanket. he gets in, shutting the door gently, and the two of you sit there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“you didn’t have to come,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he turns to you, his gaze steady, his hand already reaching for yours. “yes, i did.” his tone is quiet but firm, like he needs you to believe it

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, and it’s enough to unravel the tight knot in your chest.

“i know it’s been rough lately,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “but no matter what we’re going through, i can’t stand the thought of you sitting at home feeling this way. you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here. always.”

you close your eyes, his words sinking into the deepest parts of you.

he leans over, pulling you into his arms, and it’s like you’re a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. his embrace is so warm, so full of everything he can’t quite say, and you don’t realize how much you needed it until you’re here, breathing him in.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i should’ve brought a blanket.”

you let out a soft laugh, your breath brushing against his collarbone. “you’re the blanket.”

he smiles against your hair, holding you a little tighter. “good. then i’m not letting go.”

for a long time, you just sit there, his arms wrapped around you, his hand gently tracing soothing patterns along your back. it’s so quiet, but the silence is full of him—his love, his care, his determination to make sure you feel safe, even when things between you aren’t perfect.

“thank you for coming,” you whisper after a while, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’ll always come,” he replies, his lips brushing against your forehead. “no matter what’s happening. you’re my person.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. whatever else you have to figure out, whatever else you have to say, you can face it together.

for now, this is enough. this is everything.

niki

the studio was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel how tired you really were. your body ached, your mind felt heavy, and the only thing keeping you upright was the cool press of the mirror at your back.

you closed your eyes, just for a second, and let out a sigh.

“you always look like you’re about to fall apart after practice,” a familiar voice teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

your eyes snapped open, and when you saw him standing there in the doorway, you actually laughed out loud.

“niki?” you said, your voice pitching higher in disbelief. “what the—how did you even get in here?”

he grinned, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place, hands stuffed casually into his hoodie pockets. “i have my ways.”

“your ways?” you repeated, still laughing, though your exhaustion made it sound a little delirious. “what, did you sneak past security?”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “you’d be surprised what a little charm can do.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

niki stepped into the room then, pulling a takeout bag from behind his back like it was some big reveal. “anyway, i figured you might be hungry. you were going on and on about this the other day, so…”

you blinked at him, your chest tightening. “you remembered that?”

niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “obviously. i’m not as clueless as you think.”

he walked over and sat down beside you, his legs stretching out across the floor. the bag landed in your lap, and the smell alone was enough to make your stomach growl.

“you didn’t have to,” you murmured, though you were already pulling the container out.

“yeah, well,” he said, leaning back against the mirror with a shrug, “i wanted to.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you forgot how exhausted you were. his face was calm, but his eyes were soft, like he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had.

“thanks, niki,” you said quietly.

he waved it off like it was nothing, but the tips of his ears were pink, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant.

“you worked hard today,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “but you always do.”

you smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

niki’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it is,” he said firmly. “you are.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t. you just opened the container, took a bite, and let the warmth of the food—and his presence—melt away the edges of your day.

he didn’t say anything else, just stayed there beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed when one of you moved.

and maybe you were both too scared to say it out loud, too scared to ruin whatever this was, but in that moment, you knew: he was your safe place. and maybe, just maybe, you were his too.

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vanteguccir · 4 months ago

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thinking about you and you and matt baking naked and your only wearing an apron while he stands behind you, his arms around either side of you helping you cook. BURB OF THIS???🙏🙏🙏

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

matt sturniolo x reader

baking naked with matt!! 😩 + matt obsessed with your tits 🫶🏻

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The house was unusually quiet, save for the occasional hum of the oven preheating. Chris and Nick were out for the day, leaving Matt and Y/N alone, a rarity they both looked forward to.

Y/N stood by the counter, a soft, oversized apron tied snugly around her waist, skimming just above her thighs. Beneath it, she wore nothing, her skin warm against the fabric. The open air against her back was a familiar feeling, as was the comforting warmth of Matt’s body behind her.

Matt, just as naked, stood close, his chest pressing gently against her. His arms circled her waist loosely, the solid weight of his hands resting just above her hips, their warmth spreading into her skin. His head dipped, his lips brushing the curve of her shoulder in a lazy, featherlight kiss, lifting his blue eyes to watch her measure out flour into a mixing bowl.

"Are you sure this is the right amount?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to give him more access to what she was doing.

Matt squinted at the measuring cup, remembering the recipe he had just read on his phone.

"Eh, close enough. Baking is just like cooking, right? A little spontaneity never hurt anyone." His voice sounded low and slightly raspy.

Y/N laughed, her tone light.

"Baking is not like cooking, Matt. It’s a science. Too much flour, and these cookies will turn into hockey pucks."

"Alright, scientist." Matt grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Does it even count as baking if I’m just holding you the whole time?" He asked after some seconds of silence.

Y/N shrugged, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"You’re not just holding me. You’re also being a human heat and making it harder to focus."

Matt smirked, his lips twitching as he nuzzled back into the crook of her neck, close to her ear.

"Am I distracting you? I thought I was helping, with all the reading, you know?"

"You are distracting." She confirmed, her voice soft, though the smile in her tone betrayed her lack of protest.

His lips moved languidly along the line of her jaw, pressing small, innocent kisses that left her skin tingling. His breath was warm against her, his nose brushing lightly against her collarbone as he murmured.

"Tell me how I can help, then."

Y/N sighed, a mix of amusement and fondness.

"Okay, hold the bowl steady while I add the flour. No funny business."

Matt’s hands slipped from her waist to the red mixing bowl in front of her, keeping close, half of his chest flush against her right shoulder. She could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest syncing with hers, as if he were an extension of her own body.

As she measured the flour, she felt him shift slightly, the brush of his hips against the curve of her lower back sending a wave of warmth through her. His body fit so naturally against hers, and the skin-to-skin contact wasn’t strange or embarrassing. It was simply them.

"Careful." She said, biting back a giggle as he leaned forward to kiss her ear, his stubble lightly tickling her skin.

"I am careful." He mumbled, his voice muffled as he pressed another kiss to her jaw. "You’re the one spilling flour everywhere."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and melodic as she turned her head slightly to glare at him playfully.

"If I spill, it’s because you won’t stop kissing me!"

Matt’s lips curved into a smile against her neck.

"It’s not my fault you’re so kissable."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across her face. As she began mixing the ingredients, Matt’s hands found their way back to her body, his fingers splayed across her bare front.

His thumbs moved in slow, absentminded circles, his touch so gentle it made her heart squeeze. She felt his fingers skim just below her ribs, brushing lightly against her skin. His touch lingered along the soft curve of her stomach, and she noticed how his movements slowed, almost reverent.

"You' know that you have these little hairs right... here?" He murmured, almost as if he was just discovering that - which wasn't the case, since Matt always found his way to the area very easily. His voice sounded soft and almost in awe as his fingertips caressed the barely noticeable peach fuzz along her lower stomach.

Y/N felt a flush of warmth rise to her cheeks, though his gentle movements soothed any hint of self-consciousness she could ever have.

"Is that a bad thing?" She asked, her voice light but curious.

"No." Matt replied immediately, his voice filled with admiration. "I love it. It’s you."

She didn’t respond, only leaned back into him, her hands still working on the soon-to-be cookies.

"How do you make this look so easy?" He asked, observing Y/N whisking the batter.

"Practice." She answered with a small shrug. "And patience. Two things you’re not exactly known for."

Matt gasped in mock offense.

"Rude. I am the meaning of patience."

"Matt, you couldn’t wait five minutes for Chris to finish in the shower last night before filming."

"Okay, but that’s different. Chris takes forever in there." He defended, making her laugh again.

Finally, the dough was ready, and they began shaping it into small balls to place on the baking sheet. Matt insisted on making one overly large cookie "for testing", while Y/N meticulously lined up her smaller, perfectly formed balls.

"Yours are so... perfect." Matt observed.

"Yours looks like baseball balls." She retorted, smirking.

"Jealousy doesn’t suit you, babe." He teased, pressing a kiss to the side of her forehead.

"Shut up and help me put those into the oven."

Whith the cookies - now inside the oven - growing, the warm, sugary aroma filling the kitchen, Y/N leaned against the table, stealing a quiet moment to admire the stillness of the house. She could feel Matt’s gaze on her before she even turned around.

"Come here." He asked softly, his voice a low hum of affection.

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn’t resist as he gently tugged her away from the table and into his arms. Her back pressed against his chest as his hands found her waist first, his fingers brushing lightly over the apron’s edge.

"Matt." She said with a content sigh, already sensing where this was going.

"What?" He murmured, his tone playful but tender. "I’ve got time to kill, and you’re standing here looking irresistible."

Before she could respond, his hands moved upward, slipping beneath the soft fabric of her apron. His palms skimmed her sides before settling over her boobs, cupping them gently.

"Every day." He murmured against her ear. "Every single day, I think about these beauties. Can’t help myself."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned further into him, her body relaxing against his.

"You’re obsessed, you know that?"

"I’m not even denying it." Matt replied, a smirk evident in his tone.

His hands moved in slow circles, his thumbs brushing lightly over her nipples. His touch was neither rushed nor teasing, just tender, familiar, and grounding, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes as she let herself sink into the moment, feeling grateful for the weight against her chest and her back loosening for a bit. His lips brushed the shell of her ear before moving lower, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the curve of her neck.

"They're so soft." He murmured, his voice warm and hushed as if he were sharing a secret. "I could stay like this forever."

Y/N smiled, tilting her head slightly to allow him better access.

"You say that every time."

"And I mean it every time." He countered, his lips curving against her skin. "This is nice."

"Yeah." Y/N agreed, finally moving her hands, resting them on top of his, squeezing slightly. "Just us. No noise, no chaos..."

He nodded against her hair.

"We should do this more often. Naked baking. It’s a vibe."

Y/N laughed, turning her head to look at him.

"As long as no one comes home early. I don’t think Chris or Nick would appreciate finding us like this."

Matt made a face.

"Yeah, that’s definitely a mood killer."

The timer beeped, signaling the cookies were ready. Matt let go of Y/N so she could grab the oven mitts and pull the tray out. The sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the kitchen, making both their mouths water.

Matt grabbed a cookie as soon as it was on the cooling rack, ignoring Y/N’s protests about waiting.

"Fuck! That's so hot!" He exclaimed, tossing the cookie between his hands before finally blowing on it.

Y/N shook her head, grinning as she took one herself, waiting a moment before taking a bite.

"You’re ridiculous." She said, crumbs clinging to her lips.

"And you love it." Matt replied, leaning in to kiss the crumbs away.

"I do." She admitted softly, her smile widening as she saw him reaching for more cookies. "Matt, leave some for your brothers!"

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"!

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