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immaqulate · 3 days ago

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when did you get hot? | m.s

⤑ contains: fluff, slow burn, reunion, best friends to lovers, suggestive inner thoughts, pining and more

⤑ in which.. you do a double take, triple take, and maybe lose your mind a little

The bass is shaking picture frames you’ve never seen before. The house smells like beer, body spray, and a candle someone gave up on twenty minutes after lighting. You shoulder through the doorway with a red cup and low expectations. You promised your friend you’d show face, that’s it. Half an hour, then home, then pajamas.

You don’t make it five steps before someone squeals your name.

“Oh my God—Y/N! You remember Matt, right?”

The name claps through you like hands at a talent show. Of course you remember Matt. You remember muddy knees and summer cicadas, popsicles bleeding color down your wrists, his laugh cracking when he tried to sound older than he was. Porch lights and Mario Kart and the thrill of him double-dog daring you to jump at the highest point on the swing set.

You brace for that kid. Double take. Triple take, and your brain blue-screens.

Because that is not the kid you left behind halfway through high school. That is a man leaning on the kitchen counter like the counter is lucky, curls falling into his eyes, jaw cut like somebody ordered it that way. He’s got a red cup and a lazy grin and shoulders that weren’t there before. Nick says something; Matt laughs, throat lit by the cheap kitchen light, and the room tilts on its axis.

Excuse me? When did you get—no. No, be serious. You’d remember if he had that face. You could look him up and down all day. (You are not looking him up and down all day. Stop. Eyes up.)

Too late. He’s already caught you. His gaze hooks on yours across the crowd. The grin goes from lazy to devastating in a second flat.

“No way,” he calls, voice lower than you remember, cutting clean through bass and chatter. “Y/N?”

Your name in his mouth is a slingshot. By the time you register it, he’s already pushing through a knot of people, ignoring the chorus of “Matt! Yo, Matt!” like they’re background noise. He’s taller. He’s closer. He’s here.

“Holy shit,” he says when he stops in front of you, eyes dragging over your face the way a memory crawls back into place. “You’re—wow. Hi.”

“Hi,” you echo, like a professional conversationalist. Your pulse is in your throat, doing cartwheels.

He gestures between you with his cup. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You snort, because if you don’t, you might say something deranged. “Yeah. Same.”

“Same?” His mouth tips into mischief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You make a vague circle at all of him, like that explains anything. “You look… different. Not the kid who wiped out on my driveway every Saturday and bled on my mom’s dish towels.”

He huffs a laugh, curls shaking. “I got better at stopping.”

“And starting,” you mutter before your brain can build a filter. “Apparently.”

That grin sharpens. “Different how?” he prods, tilting in just enough that you can smell his cologne over the beer haze. “You mean—”

“Don’t say it.”

“Hot?” he finishes, too pleased with himself to live.

Your face heats like you just opened an oven. “You’re impossible.”

“And you were staring,” he says, not unkindly, just like he’s reporting the weather.

“I was verifying,” you lie. “Quality control.”

“Mhm.” He sips, eyes bright. “Triple-checking for science.”

“Shut up.”

There’s a flurry of whoops from the living room—somebody just nailed the last cup in beer pong. A chant starts. Nick crows something about a rematch. Chris materializes long enough to shoulder-bump Matt and throw you a grin that says ohhh, this is interesting, then vanishes, dragging half the room with him like rip current.

It gets loud again. Sticky again. The kitchen turns into an intersection with bad traffic laws.

Matt glances toward the stairs, then back at you. The grin softens at the edges. “Can you hear anything in here?”

“Just my panic.”

He tips his head toward the hallway. “C’mon. Five minutes. I want to actually talk to you.”

The words are simple. The familiarity isn’t. It slides into you like muscle memory.

His fingers brush your wrist. Not a grab. Just a nudge that asks instead of tells. Your body answers before your brain does: you follow.

Upstairs, the noise drops to a manageable thud. He shoulders open a random bedroom that looks like three people share it and none of them believe in drawers. The bed is a disaster. A desk is a graveyard of empty cans. A string of fairy lights is doing its best under duress.

Matt drops onto the carpet next to the wall and pats the spot beside him. “Floor or nothing. Tradition.”

You sit. Your knee finds his like it always did. Years peel back; then they don’t. Both things are true at once.

“So.” He stretches his legs out, ankles crossing, red cup balanced on his knee. “Where’d you go?”

You pick at the rim of your cup. “My dad’s job moved us. New school, new friends. I told myself I’d call. Then it felt like I’d waited too long to call. Then it was… a year. Two.”

His mouth tucks, not a frown, not not a frown. “I kept thinking you’d pop up. Like, I’d be skating by your house and your porch light would be on and there you’d be, yelling at me to get off your mom’s hydrangeas.”

You laugh, helpless. “They were her personality.”

“I remember,” he says, smiling into his cup. “You used to hide the broken blooms in the neighbor’s trash like a heist.”

“You swore to take it to your grave.”

He glances over, eyes bright with something fond that crosses the line into dangerous without asking. “Guess I lied.”

Silence takes a breath. Not awkward. Full.

“Do you still have the scar?” you ask, because the room is tilting in a way you can’t say out loud. “From the time you tried to jump the curb and ended up eating asphalt?”

He grins and flips his wrist up, showing you the raised line near his palm. “Compliments of your driveway.”

“You bled like a horror movie.”

“You cried,” he says, softening again. “You wouldn’t let me see because you said I’d make it worse.”

“I would have,” you admit, smiling at the floor.

He watches you for a long second. “I missed you,” he says, unceremonious, like he’s not throwing something breakable between you.

Your insides do a small, stunned rearrangement. “I missed you too.” The words come out square and steady, truer than anything you’ve said in weeks.

He doesn’t move closer. He doesn’t need to. The space between your shoulders changes density all by itself.

“So what, you’re back for good?” he asks, clearing his throat like he meant to keep it lighter and forgot how.

“For school,” you say. “And because it turns out I like being where the sidewalks know my name.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Poetic.”

“You’re one to talk. You’re out here… doing it. All the videos, the tour, the everything.” You wave a hand. “You grew up.”

“Allegedly,” he says, which makes you snort. Then he adds, quieter, “I always thought growing up would feel like becoming someone else. But when I saw you just now—” He breaks off, shrugs. “It felt like remembering who I was.”

Your pulse trips. You stare very hard at your cup like it’s a syllabus. “You’re going to make me emotional on a carpet that hasn’t been vacuumed since 2019.”

He laughs, head tipping back against the wall. The sound hits you right in the center of your chest. It’s new and not. You’re still tuned to it. Apparently some stations never go off air.

Down the hall, somebody yells about flip cup. A door slams. The house shudders under a bass drop that has no business being that dramatic. You and Matt look at each other over the rim of your cups and burst into the kind of mutual grin that used to end in a dare.

“Come on,” he says, pushing up to stand. He offers a hand; you take it. Both of you pretend it’s normal. “We’re going to humiliate some undergrads.”

“Bold,” you say, letting him tow you back down the stairs. “Given your hand-eye coordination.”

“I’ve evolved,” he announces, which—fine—unfortunately looks true from every angle.

The living room is a postcard of terrible decision-making: chant lines, sticky floors, somebody with a mullet guarding the aux like it’s a national monument. Beer pong claims the dining table; flip cup has colonized the coffee table. Matt cuts through to the far end, throws a wink at Chris he absolutely doesn’t need to throw, then leans down so his mouth is next to your ear.

“You and me,” he says. “Like old times.”

“Like old times you whiff and I carry?” you ask sweetly.

“Talk your talk, coach.”

The game starts. It’s ridiculous. It’s perfect. You sink your first cup and pretend it’s nothing; Matt whoops like you hit a buzzer beater. He misses by a mile and groans like you’ve personally betrayed him. When you line up your next shot, he steps in behind you—too close, too casual—to “help your aim,” his hand hovering an inch from yours, his breath smiling against your temple. Your brain pops like bubble wrap.

“Bend your elbow,” he murmurs. “You always lock it.”

“I always lock it to avoid you breathing on me like a Labrador.”

He laughs into your hair. The ball arcs. Perfect sink. The room howls. Someone yells your name like you’re sports famous. Matt spins you by the wrist and bows like a menace.

Ugly kid, sexy man, you think, traitorously delighted. And then, because your inner monologue has lost its brakes entirely: congratulations on your new improvements. Did he download a patch? Who authorized the shoulders?

A while later—time gets wobbly around the edges—you’re back in the kitchen, cheeks warm from laughing, head pleasantly light. The party’s thinning. Someone’s half-asleep on a beanbag. The music has slipped into a playlist that sounds like late-night Uber rides and questionable decisions.

Matt tips his head toward the back door. “Fresh air? Before we both smell like beer forever.”

The porch light hums and casts everything in soft gold. Night breathes cool over your skin. You sit on the top step. He sits close enough that your thighs know he’s there even when you aren’t looking.

For a while, you don’t say anything. Street noise hums beyond the hedges. The house mumbles behind you. A moth does laps around the bulb like it’s training for something.

“You really thought I wouldn’t care?” he asks finally, not looking at you. “When you left, I mean.”

You swallow. The wood is warm under your palms. “I figured you’d… adapt. You always did.”

“I adapted,” he says, like he’s conceding the point. “I didn’t replace you.”

You look at him. He’s not smirking. He’s not reaching for a joke. He’s just here, honest in a way that feels like leaning over a railing and trusting the air.

“I was scared to call,” you admit, the words small and heavy at once. “I kept thinking I’d missed the window where it wouldn’t be weird. And then it was two years, and then it was my graduation, and then I was good at pretending I was fine.”

He huffs a laugh with no humor in it. “I checked your mom’s Facebook for like a year to make sure your family didn’t vanish into a witness protection program.”

You choke on a laugh. “I cannot believe you’re admitting that.”

“I’m being vulnerable,” he says gravely. “Don’t punish me for loving the suburbs.”

You’re still laughing when your eyes catch and don’t let go. It sneaks up on you, how quiet it gets. How the air changes shape. How the past and the present stack like books on a shelf and suddenly the story you’re in makes a different kind of sense.

“Matt,” you say, and it comes out a little like a warning and a little like a plea.

He shifts, knee bumping yours. “Yeah?”

“You’re still you,” you say, because it’s the closest you can get to the truth without stepping off a cliff. “But also… not.”

He wets his bottom lip. Your focus does a swan dive after it. “Different good?” he asks softly.

You could make a joke. You don’t. “Yeah.”

He nods, like he needed the confirmation for reasons that have nothing to do with his jawline. His fingers drum once against his cup, then go still. “You’re different too,” he says. “Less… ready to run.”

“I’m exhausted,” you say, and you both laugh, the sound giddy with the relief of saying the thing underneath the thing.

He turns toward you, fully now. It’s not dramatic. It still knocks the breath right out of you. The porch light rings his curls. His eyes flick down—not a drop, more like a gravity—and back up. You know what that means. You’ve known him long enough to read whole paragraphs in a look.

Everything narrows: the step under your thighs, the night pressing soft against your bare arms, the half inch of air asking between your mouths.

And then his mouth is on yours.

It’s warm, steady, a little clumsy with surprise and years and the taste of cheap beer. His hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing soft like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds too tight. You breathe him in — cologne, laughter, every summer you ever had together — and it feels both brand new and like something you’ve known your whole life.

When you finally break apart, your foreheads rest together, both of you grinning like idiots.

“Guess that answers your question,” you murmur.

His laugh rumbles low, wrecked in the best way. “What question?”

“When you got hot.”

He shakes his head, presses another quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, then digs a hand into his pocket for his phone. “Okay, wait. Give me your number before you disappear for another six years.”

You blink, then laugh, taking the phone when he offers it. “Bold of you to assume I want to.”

“You’re not getting out of this,” he says, watching as you type. You add your name—full name, because his contacts must be a disaster—and a tiny star.

When you hand it back, he looks down at the screen, then back at you. “Keeping the star.”

“Obviously.” He walks you back inside, back to your friends, back to the soft blur of a party shutting down. But the air feels lighter now, like the night itself shifted gears.

Your phone buzzes before you’re even fully awake the next morning.

matt⭐️: coffee? i’m two blocks from you. don’t make me drink alone.

You groan into your pillow, but you’re already smiling. Fifteen minutes later, you’re tugging on sneakers and meeting him outside the café on the corner, hair barely brushed, heart still racing from last night.

He’s leaning against the window, hood pulled up, curls peeking out. He looks annoyingly good for someone who played four rounds of flip cup and still carried you to a porch kiss like it was nothing.

“Morning, coach,” he says when he spots you.

“Don’t call me that before caffeine,” you grumble, pushing the door open.

Inside, the place smells like espresso and croissants. You slide into a booth while Matt orders for both of you like it’s muscle memory. He comes back with two steaming cups and a muffin split in half, sliding your side across the table.

“You still pick the blueberry?” you ask.

“You still steal the top?” he counters, watching as you do exactly that.

Conversation spills easy—school, siblings, stupid memories you both thought you’d forgotten. Every so often, he leans forward on his elbows and smiles like you’re saying something worth framing. Every so often, you catch yourself staring and don’t bother looking away.

At one point, he says it outright: “Feels like no time’s passed. Except now… it’s different.”

You stir your coffee, heart skipping traitorously. “Different good?”

His grin curves, soft and sure. “Best different.”

And in that tiny café, with crumbs on your plate and his hand brushing yours across the table, you realize last night wasn’t just nostalgia. It was a beginning.

immaqulate's notes ✎ᝰ.ᐟ .. sabrina ily for writing this song hehe also i dont know if adding the number/coffee scene was too much but i thought it was cutee

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slushysturniolo · 8 hours ago

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𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙚

⤷ 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙!𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙭 𝙣𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

⤷ cw: smut, weapon kink (with replica), degradation, size kink/stretching, spit, creampie, possessiveness, praise, light choking/grabbing, unsafe themes (fiction only).

❗️Note: This fic contains weapon kink — but it uses a replica gun. Please don’t ever try anything like this in real life. Real firearms are never safe for play. This is 100% fictional fantasy.

It was an itch he wanted to scratch. He didn’t know why or when it started, but it wouldn’t leave his mind.

He didn’t even let you look at his gun, let alone touch it. It was locked in a safe only he knew the code to.

Matt was good with weapon safety. He was ex-military. He knew his way around a firearm. You teased him, told him how hot he looked with his gun on his hip, attached to his holster.

“It’s not supposed to look hot.”

You wanted to take an Instagram picture with it.

“No. It’s not a toy. Why would you even ask me that?”

He put you through a gun safety course after that comment. So he couldn’t figure out why he wanted to fuck you with his gun on his hip, to run the muzzle between your legs. It was stupid. He couldn’t.

You’d lean over the center console to kiss his cheek, his gun pressing into his hip. He’d smell your perfume, feel the gloss from your lips on his skin, your acrylic nails dragging over his chest, the squeak of leather under you as you shifted. He was so tense.

He tried to push the thoughts down. Distract himself. He brought handcuffs into the bedroom, rope, spanked you until you cried on his fingers. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t scratch it.

It wasn’t until you had on a stupid fucking sundress and straddled his lap. Your lips on his, hands rubbing up and down his chest—when you felt it. The cold metal of the gun against your thigh, and you shivered.

“Jesus, that thing is so close to me.” You giggled, while Matt looked like he was going to snap.

It had been a week. The image of the way you gasped, the way you shivered at the touch of the gun was seared into his mind.

‘That thing is so close to me.’ The echo of your voice circled his skull until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to do something. He knew about replica guns from his Marine training—rubber, weighted, so close to the real thing.

It was purchased without a second thought. A swipe of his credit card, and it sat in the backseat of his truck. It looked so real in the rearview mirror it made him sweat.

“I noticed you had an interest in my firearm.” Lie.

“This isn’t real, but it’s good for you to learn gun safety. I want you comfortable around them. So you don’t make mistakes.” True. But the reason he brought it to the bed? A lie.

You take the replica from his hand, your fingers brushing his knuckles. The weight surprises you immediately.

“It’s so heavy,” you whisper, holding the grip, letting your eyes trace the muzzle before flicking back up to his. “Your gun is this heavy?”

“Yes.” His voice comes out low, strained, like the word costs him.

You turn it in your hand, studying the matte finish, the way the weight drags at your wrist. “I wouldn’t be able to carry this shit around all day,” you murmur, almost to yourself.

His jaw tightens. He swallows. “Holster. Muscle memory. Years of training.” His eyes track the way your fingers curl around the grip. “Finger off the trigger.”

You laugh softly. “It’s not even real.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps. “You treat it like it’s real. Always.”

The sharp shift in his tone startles you. You set it down on your thigh obediently and flick your gaze up at him. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes drop to the weight of it against your skin, the way the metal makes the flesh of your thigh bulge. His throat bobs as he clears it. “It’s okay. Didn’t mean to snap. I just want you safe, baby. You know that.”

You tilt your head, studying him. The vein straining in his neck. His fists clenched at his sides. His gaze locked on the replica lying heavy on your thigh.

“Matt…” you whisper. “You seem really tense.”

He smirks, rolling his eyes and looking away. He hates that you pick up on everything about him. He can’t get away with anything anymore.

“Tell me.”

His gaze flicks to your thigh, then back up to your eyes. Pupils blown, tongue running along his teeth. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers. “Fuck… I’ve tried to push it down—brought rope into the bedroom, handcuffs, I’ve spanked that little ass until you cried, but it’s not enough.”

Your cheeks warm.

“And trust me, baby, I love it.”

Relief washes through you.

“Well… what is it?”

“I want to use the gun.” He swallows thickly. “The replica.”

Your breath hitches. Your eyes drop to the cold metal resting on your thigh, then back to his.

“I know it’s fucked up.” His hand drags down his face. He licks his lips. “But the way you reacted when you felt it the other day—I can’t get it out of my head.”

You reach for the replica again, fingers brushing over the barrel. “Okay.”

His brows knit. “Okay?”

“I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

It’s a whisper.

A promise.

Matt immediately palms himself through his jeans, willing his cock to calm down. “You can’t just say that.”

“I can.” You nod, steady, almost daring him.

Matt’s fingers wrap around your wrists, his grip firm but trembling, and he jerks his chin toward himself. “C’mere.”

You scramble into his lap. His cock presses into your thigh as the weight of the gun rests heavy across both of you. Matt grabs your face, fingers firm enough that your lips pout.

“This okay?” he whispers against your ear.

He always asks.

“Yes.”

“You need to promise me—if you’re ever uncomfortable, you say the word. Understood?”

You nod.

Matt tsks. “Words, baby. We’ve talked about this.”

“I understand.”

His gaze hardens. “And if any other man ever asks you to do this with them—you say no. I know my way around a firearm. I’m trained for it. This should only ever be between us.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Why are you even implying there would ever be anyone else?”

Matt shuts his eyes for a beat, jaw tight. “Baby…” He kisses your cheek, softer this time. “Can you just tell me that you understand?”

“You wanna break up.”

He lets out a low laugh, frustrated. “You’re fucking impossible. You’ll never have another boyfriend, because I’d murder them. Just—humor me, please. I want you to make good choices.”

“Fine.” You sigh, but there’s warmth in your voice. “I understand.”

“Good fucking girl.” He coos and ruts his hips up into yours. Matt’s hand meets the cool handle of the gun and slides it on your thigh.

You’re trembling on his lap. Skirt bunched around your hips, panties tossed aside. You’re trembling when Matt slides the replica from your stomach down between your thighs. The cold barrel nudges your slick folds and you jolt, gasping.

“Easy,” he murmurs, voice low and sharp. His free hand is wrapped around your hip hard enough to bruise. “It’s not real. But you treat it like it is. Understood?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Say it again.”

“Yes, Matt.”

He drags the muzzle up your cunt, your slick coating the tool, slow and deliberate. You shiver hard, thighs trying to clamp together around him.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead pressing to your shoulder. “You’re fucking soaked, baby. You’re enjoying this.”

The tip of the handle pushes inside, just barely, and your gasp breaks into a moan. Your hips grind against the gun. He keeps your movements steady, his hand on your lower back guiding you.

“Open up for me,” he orders. “Relax, take it slow.”

You feel it push further into you. Cold, foreign, not Matt. Your walls flutter around the intrusion as your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

“Good girl,” he whispers against your ear. His cock throbs against your thigh, begging for release. “You’re gonna let me fuck you with it, aren’t you?”

“Yes—please—”

He moves it in and out in shallow strokes. His other hand palms himself through his jeans, groaning as he watches you fuck yourself on the gun.

“You’ll never do this with anyone else. Say it.”

“Never,” you whimper. “Only you.”

“That’s right.” He presses a kiss to your temple, breath ragged, voice breaking. “Only ever me.”

Your body jerks as he slides the replica deeper, stretching you open. His other hand fumbles at his jeans, zipper rasping down, and then his cock is free—flushed, heavy, slick at the tip.

“Matt—” your voice trembles as you feel him replace the barrel with the hot, thick head of his cock. The temperature change makes you shiver, goosebumps racing across your skin.

“Shhh, baby,” he groans, rutting into you, his cock slippery with your slick. “You can take both, can’t you?” He presses the cold metal of the gun to your swollen clit as he fucks you slow.

He slides the replica back between your folds while he thrusts shallowly inside you, alternating the strokes—hot, then cold, thick, then both. Your head tips back and a sound you don’t recognize tears from your throat.

“That’s it,” he pants, fucking you with both himself and the gun. “Taking it so fucking well, baby. So proud of you.” He kisses you sloppily. “She’s stretching so wide for me.”

You cry out, clinging to his shoulders. The stretch is so wide, the burn so deep. You watch as he spits, saliva coating your connected bodies. Tears prick your eyes as every thrust drives deeper and deeper. You feel like you’re floating—it’s so fucking much.

“Fucking pussy was made for shit like this, yeah? Tell me it’s only for me, baby.” He growls through gritted teeth. “Tell me before you cum.”

“Only you,” you sob, the words ripping from your throat. “Just fucking you, Matt.”

His mouth crashes against yours—spit, teeth, passion, danger. He groans into your mouth as your pussy contracts around his cock and the gun. Your vision turns white, your head falling to his shoulder as you come apart. He breaks with you, spilling hot inside, holding you tight against his chest like he’ll never let you go.

When the trembling finally fades, he strokes your hair, lips brushing your temple. Light kisses. The replica gun sits discarded at your side.

“You’re okay, sweet girl?” he murmurs, and you nod against his shoulder, exhausted.

“You did so good for me, you know that?” He kisses your cheek. “You need anything, hmm? Water?”

You shake your head. “Wanna nap.”

“Okay, baby. Let’s nap.”

[a/n: sheeeeeshhhhhh. a lil taboo.]

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#slushysturniolo･ ༝ ･#bodyguard!matt x nepo baby!reader ♡ˎˊ˗#bodyguard!matt ⟢#nepo baby!reader ⋆.𐙚 ̊#matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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sturniphone · 1 day ago

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˖ ‎ ❜୧ 𝓟𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝓞𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝓘 𝓒𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝓦𝐀𝐈𝐓 PAIRING :: chratt ⅋⅋ shortcake!reader ⸻ㅤ ༝⠀ ݁ smut ⸝⸝ ⋆ ࣪ no incest sexual content semi public exhibitionism ⊹ 𓈒

Chris drags you down onto his cock in the backseat like you’re built to be here, his big veiny hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, thumbs digging into the plush swell of your ass as you ride him hard, soaking his thighs and the leather beneath, the whole vehicle rocking with the rhythm of your messy bounce, windows fogging with heat, air heavy with groans and slick.

❝F–fuck,❞ you cry, head tipping back, nails clawing at the fogged glass until it squeals beneath your fingertips. The sound shoots straight through you, makes your cunt seize tighter, fluttering around him in greedy, desperate spasms. You’re soaking him, dripping hot slick down his thighs, every bounce dizzying, like your body can’t keep up with how much you need him. He growls, hips snapping up, cock punching deeper, sharper, hitting that spongey spot inside over and over until your vision goes white at the edges. Heat coils low, pulsing and relentless, your clit sparking fire every time it brushes his abs. You feel drunk on it, dizzy, your body trembling as if your bones can’t hold you, every nerve lit up and screaming for more.

❝Yeah? That's what you want, baby? ❞ He rasps, voice rough in your ear, sweat slicking your skin where your tits bounce against his chest. ❝Look at this greedy little pussy, clamping down like she’d starve without me.❞

Every grind has your swollen clit dragging against the hard ridges of his abs, sparks exploding through your body until you’re choking on broken moans, thighs trembling from the overstimulating pace. His cock feels so heavy inside you, throbbing, stretching you so wide you can barely breathe, every vein pulsing against your velvet walls as they flutter helplessly.

You’re gasping when your hands fly to his chest, nails raking him open, desperate to anchor yourself, and then you see him—Matt—in the driver’s seat, hand shoved into his sweats, jaw tight, eyes locked onto where your pussy swallows Chris’s cock whole. His voice cracks when he speaks, low and ruined: ❝Don’t you dare cum yet. I’m next.❞

Your lips tremble as you moan, ❝Then you better hurry, Matt—oh fuck—I can’t—I can’t stop—❞ Chris’s laugh is low and cruel, his teeth grazing your neck. ❝Hear that? She’s begging, bro. She’s going to squeeze me dry before you even get a taste. Fuckin’ ruin her with me.❞

Your clit grinds harder with every slap of his hips, your body unravelling, back bowing, your cunt milking him with hot, fluttering pulses until your scream tears through the fogged air. You gush around his cock, slick flooding down to his balls, your whole body convulsing as he groans through clenched teeth, fucking you brutally through the orgasm.

Matt’s hips jerk wildly, no rhythm left, just desperate little thrusts into his fist as he unravels. His breath breaks into high, whiny moans, his chest heaving as hot spurts spill across his sweats, his shirt and even streaking up his stomach. He’s a mess, panting through it, eyes glazed and mouth slack, still pumping himself even as cum drips down his knuckles. ❝F–fuck, it’s everywhere,❞ he whimpers, thighs trembling, his whole body shuddering with the force of it. Chris just groans, burying deep in you, cock twitching inside your spasming cunt like he’s proud of the wreck he creates.

And Matt—still panting, cum dripping through fabric—rasps, ❝I'm pulling the fuck over. I want her bent over the hood, screaming my name next.❞ and that only makes your eyes roll to the back of your head in excitement.

:: 🏷️ ࣪ꜝ ̥ ⁺ 𝓜𝐘 𝓢𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒 ⸝⸝⸝ @chrepsi ⸝⸝ @sturnsxbbyeilish ⸝⸝ @j21l91 ⸝⸝ @pip4444chris ⸝⸝ @mattslutt ⸝⸝ @mattscoquette ⸝⸝ @mi-co-uk ⸝⸝ @tezzzzzzzz ⸝⸝ @emely9274 ⸝⸝ @oopsiedaisydeer ⸝⸝ @theowensturniolo ⸝⸝ @httpssturns ⸝⸝ @matthewsroses ⸝⸝ @bugs-tags ⸝⸝ @mattswrinkleton ⸝⸝ @h3arts4nat ⸝⸝ @madz146 ⸝⸝ @ifwdominicfike ⸝⸝ @rriverscuomo ⸝⸝ @ivysturnss ⸝⸝ @brianaluvschris ⸝⸝ @mattsgold ⸝⸝ @sturniolotoast ⸝⸝ @ariieeesworld ⸝⸝ @angelicameron ⸝⸝ @blahbel668 ⸝⸝ @sturniszn ⸝⸝ @chriss-slutt ⸝⸝ @mattsdiva ⸝⸝ @little-lolaaa ⸝⸝ @mattsmoth ⸝⸝ @clairo4life ⸝⸝ @everythingaboutbags ⸝⸝ @matts-wife ⸝⸝ @chrispleasure ⸝⸝ @ajskorner ⸝⸝ @mattspillowprincess ⸝⸝ @twylas114 ⸝⸝ @bambi-sturns ⸝⸝ @mayax2o07 ⸝⸝ @sturnsflirt ⸝⸝ @tonymayor2022 ⸝⸝ @ifellforanotherloser ⸝⸝ @sturnl0ve ⸝⸝ @angelbabychris ⸝⸝ @cayleeuhithinknott ⸝⸝ @sturniszn ⸝⸝ @camilaisangelicc ⸝⸝ @anilaasturns

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#┆ ִ ་ ꣑ everything . . . ·˚ ꒰ chratt && shortcake ˖ ࣪ა ࣪˖#𓏲 ︎ ᣟ𓈒 ៏⠀ 𝓦riting‎ for ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎ ‎‎ ㅤ ‎ chratt && shortcake ﹗ ˖ ་ 𖥻 #chris sturniolo #chratt #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #chris and matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris stuniolo x reader #matt sturniolo

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iluvmattsbeard · 3 days ago

Text

naughty girl (m.s)

ex!bd!matt x reader

master list

warnings: smut/p in v/ oral (m receiving!)

preview: you and your ex baby daddy meet up for a parent teacher conference. the teacher suggests that you and matt rekindle for the sake of your guys’ child. you decide to invite matt over for dinner and let’s just, say you two got along just fine.

a/n: surprise, i’m back. don’t know how often i’ll post but, here’s dad! matt to make up for a whole YEAR of not posting a new fic. to those who continue to read my shit, genuinely, thank you. if you aren’t new to my shit, you know how this goes. stay filthy and delusional. ❤️‍🔥 also, i’m starting a new tag list. so comment if you want to be added.

this situation wasn't ideal for either of you. you were sitting at your desk, in your home, when you had received an email from your son, Ethan's teacher. you expected it to be some automated message that usually got sent out to all the parents but, this email was specifically meant for you and one other person. your eyes trailed to the familiar email that this message was also sent to. Matt Sturniolo, your baby daddy and ex.

the relationship between you and Matt was complicated. even though you keep a healthy co parenting schedule, you two still fought and argued routinely. it was exhausting to the point you both agreed to keep distance and only speak limited words in person.

the email was short and to the point, it read, 'To the parents of Ethan Sturniolo, this email is in regards to your son's behavior. Please refer to the list of times below to schedule this meeting. It is important to discuss of his actions in class. Sincerely, Mrs. Santiago.' there was an attached response to the email from Matt which made you roll your eyes in annoyance. of course, he already picked what time this meeting should happen.

typical of him, you thought to yourself. this was one of the reasons you couldn't stand being in a relationship with him. as good as a father he is, him as a person, especially in a romantic relationship, Matt was controlling and he always made sure he got his way. you were fed up, which led to you two ending your 2 year relationship.

as of now, you couldn't give a shit what he was up to, or who he was associated with. you honestly felt bad for the girls that came after, especially if he hasn't changed his ways. he was their problem now. your love life though, wasn't any better. that's what led your mind to not so innocent thoughts. all this bad talk about Matt, doesn't stop you from admitting that him in bed though? was definitely the best part that came from your ended relationship. you would be lying to yourself if you denied the thoughts of you missing it.

you shut your laptop, staring at the wall, already mentally preparing for the next day to come. you don't know if you can handle being stuck in the same room with Matt for more than 5 minutes. especially, if you two end up getting into disagreements. your thoughts were interrupted by your son running up to you, wrapping is arms around your waist. you look down at him, your expression softening, as your eyes met with his. he was definitely Matt's carbon copy. that's why that email wasn't any surprise to you about Ethan's behavior. he was his dad's son after all.

"mommy? are you done working?" Ethan asks curiously, his expression hopeful. you run your hand through his hair as you nod, "yes Ethan, I'm all done. we can go prepare the stuff for dinner. how does that sound?" you ask, which in response, you get an eager nod. you watch as he turns around and darts out the door, making you let out a humorous snicker. your mind was now back on the meeting tomorrow. the small smile on your face fading away.

*next day*

you shut the car door behind you, glancing up at the school building ahead of you. you sigh to yourself, dusting your thighs, now heading towards the entrance. when about to open the door, somebody else' hand beat you to the handle. you look over at the figure, about to thank them when you realize who it was. there he was, smug look on his face like always. "a 'you're welcome' would've been nice." Matt lets out, making you roll your eyes. you walk inside, ignoring his words. his footsteps following behind you quickly, "real mature Y/n." Matt scoffs, "ignoring me isn't going to change this situation." he says.

"we'll talk about it inside." you mumble as you keep your eyes forward, determination in your steps. "no, let's talk right now before we cause a scene in front of Ethan's teacher." Matt lets out, slightly irritated. you stop in your tracks, darting your eyes up at him, "what is there to talk about between us?" you whisper, your tone cold before you continue, "I have nothing to say to you. I want to hear what his teacher has to say, not you." you conclude, turning back around to head to the classroom. Matt stands there for a moment, shaking his head slowly. he couldn't believe how you were acting.

when you two settle down in the empty seats in front of the teacher's desk, there was nothing but awkward silence. you sit there with your legs crossed, not amused while Matt leans back in the seat with his arms crossed. Mrs. Santiago clears her throat as she begins to cut through the silence, "So, I brought you two here to discuss your son's actions..." she starts off calmly, "Ethan has been disruptive. he continuously bursts out comments when uncalled for, he isn't getting a long with his classmates, and he isn't putting an effort into his assignments. that's why I thought it was best to bring this up to the both of you, because you two know your son best. how is his home life?" she asks. you felt your body tense up with the sudden question. before you speak up, Matt beats you to it, "we're split up. with me, he's nothing but behaved with her-" he pauses, glancing at you for a split second before looking back at the teacher, "not so sure how he does with her." he scoffs slightly. you whip your head to look at Matt, your mouth falling open from the audacity of his words. "excuse me-i'll have you know Ethan behaves when he's with me-."

you were cut off by another scoff from Matt, "well you're the one with him most of the time before he's off to school. who knows, you probably put him in a bad mood-."

"I do not!" you let out immediately, "when he comes home from your place, he always has something new learned, who knows what thoughts you put in his head!" Mrs. Santiago chimes in, "alright, let's try to prevent putting blame-.' she begins but you and Matt both turn your head to face her, interrupting her, "his fault-." "her fault-." you both let out at the same time. Mrs. Santiago eyes widen slightly before she shakes her head slowly in disbelief. "I think things need to be worked out with the two of you. you guys may not see it but, the way you two speak to each other, or act around each other, affects how Ethan is acting." she sighs before continuing, "Ethan is still young, it is known for children to highly take after their parents. if this is how he knows his parents to be-.' she pauses, making your expression soften, "he will continue to be the way he is in class." she finishes off.

the tension is still in the air, but, you and Matt both understood where Mrs. Santiago came from. "I suggest you two try your guys' hardest to find a common ground. rebuild a connection between the two of you. I'm not saying romantically but, maybe a friendship." she suggests with a shrug. you nod slowly, speaking gently, "we will figure it out..." you trail off, Matt adding on, "yes, we will. we're both sorry that Ethan has been giving you and his classmates a hard time. we'll guarantee it'll get sorted out." he sincerely says. you nod in agreement to his words.

the meeting was over, you and Matt both head out the building, walking side by side in silence. your eyes are glued to the ground, trying to figure out if it even was possible to rekindle something with Matt. "look-" Matt speaks up, stopping his steps as he looks down at you. he sighs as he meets your eyes, he has to admit, it was nice having you in front of him, actually making eye contact. "i'm willing to try if you are... I mean, we both love Ethan, we can figure this out for the sake of our son." he says. you nod slowly, staying silent as your mind gets flooded with thoughts. Matt's eyes stay on you as he watches you come up with an idea, making him curious.

you sigh softly before speaking your thoughts aloud. you weren't so sure how this idea would work out but, you were willing to go through with it. "dinner, at my place." you murmur quietly, "we can sit and eat... discuss this situation... and-." you sigh, "yeah- I guess just see what happens..." you whisper, visibly unsure. Matt nods at the idea, "sounds good to me. this weekend is ideal for me." he suggests. "this weekend it is." you mutter out. you both greet each other 'goodbye', both anxious about what is to come.

*time skip to the weekend*

you're standing in front of your vanity, checking yourself out. your heart was pounding in your chest. the nerves were definitely hitting you. Matt had just text that he was on the way and it had your stomach in knots. even if you despised him as a person, you couldn't help but feel jitters from the thought of finally having this opportunity to be alone with him again. you keep trying to tell yourself this was just for Ethan, nothing more.

after a what felt like forever. you hear the door bell ring through out the house. you jump slightly from the noise, standing up quickly. you shut your eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath. "you'll be fine..." you whisper to yourself, to try and calm your nerves. you turn towards the door, making your way to go open it. you turn the handle slowly, hesitating a bit before pulling it open fully with a nervous smile. "hey." you greet in a friendly tone. Matt gives you a head nod of acknowledgement before heading inside. you feel your stomach twist from the lack of enthusiasm. "I thought he wanted this too?" you thought to yourself before shrugging it off. you were in for a long night.

the tension was palpable, Matt was acting dull. he sat at the dining table, watching as you prepare him a plate of food. "so..." you start off, placing the plate in front of him, "Ethan with Chris?" you ask, trying to make small talk. Matt nods as his eyes stay down, beginning to eat. "surprised you chose him over Nick-." you chuckle out awkwardly before Matt's eyes dart up to yours, "what? you don't think Chris is capable of watching our kid?" Matt lets out unimpressed, making you tense up, "that's not what I meant-. i'm just saying you usually let Nick-." Matt interrupts you, "he had other shit to do." he mutters. your grip on your fork tightens, why was he acting like this? you kept your composure as you glance down at your food, "could've said it in a nicer tone..." you mumble. Matt's eyes were still glued onto you, "what was that?" he lets out lowly. you keep your gaze down as you shake your head, "nothing. I just don't understand why you said you would try this out, and you agreed to coming tonight to act like how you always do." you mutter quietly with a hint of attitude.

Matt places his fork down slowly, leaning back in his seat, "you upset because you aren't getting the exact attention you wanted?" he asks, his tone a bit mocking which makes you roll your eyes, "I just expected you to have a change of heart because you do remember right, that this is for our son." you say annoyed, darting your eyes up at him but, when your gaze locks with his, you felt your stomach drop. your expression shifting from the sight of him. his legs were spread slightly with his one hand resting on the table, and the other on his lap. Matt's jaw clenches a tad bit as he whispers, "i'm aware of that. it's just..." he trails off as he leans forward slightly, his eyes still locked on yours. "I mean we both know it isn't going to work." he says with a shrug and stupid smirk on his face. your eyes narrow, "why do you say that?" you murmur. "come on Y/n... you don't think if we worked this out, you wouldn't feel some type of way about me again?" he asks with his head tilting teasingly. you feel your cheeks heat up, you don't know if it was of anger or embarrassment.

you place your hands on the table, lifting yourself up from your seat as you look away, "you're ridiculous. " you scoff annoyed, "I can't stand you. I would never, ever, feel a type of way romantically, towards you again." you let out. you go to walk past where he's seated when you suddenly feel a grip on you wrist. your body tenses up, leaving you frozen in your spot. there was no words spoke until you slowly turned your head to face him. "who are you trying to convince?" Matt whispers lowly, his eyes darkening. your eyes widen slightly from his change of demeanor, the grip he had around you wrist tightening a bit. "let go of me." is what you wanted to say, but your mouth betrayed you, leaving you standing there in silence. your eyes never leaving his as he speaks, "what's wrong? have nothing to say all of the sudden?" he whispers. you gulp down your nerves slowly as you continue to say quiet.

he tugs at your wrist, pulling you in front of him. his eyes trail up from your body to your face slowly as he speaks, "you just going to keep that mouth shut?" he asks, "or are you going to put it to good use?" he hums in curiosity. his words went straight to the heat in between your legs. you felt your whole body on fire as you whisper, "what will this benefit us and the situation?" you ask, a gulp following after. Matt shrugs nonchalantly, "i'm not sure but..." he pauses, his hand trailing to your hip, "I do know what you can definitely benefit from." he says with a smirk appearing on his lips. there it was again, the smugness. "and what's that?" you whisper, the nerves betraying the tone of your voice. "let's find out." Matt says, tugging on your arm, making you go on your knees slowly. he scoots his chair back slightly, giving you more space in front of him as he looks down at you. the look in your eyes made his pants feel tight. the deceiving look of innocence coming from you made him shake his head, "haven't seen that look in a long time." he whispers as he grips your jaw gently.

he runs his thumb on your bottom lip teasingly, his eyes glued to the sight as he whispers, "now tell me... who are you trying to convince?" he repeats his earlier question. you stay silent, his thumb now pushing into your lip harshly, "no one." he whispers as he plunges his thumb, your lips parting as your mouth wraps around it. he hums lowly, removing his thumb to lean back in the chair. your heart was pounding once again, your body going on auto pilot. the desire and pent up tension making you give in. your hands go up to his belt, undoing it. his eyes stay on you as his arms rest on the chair. you pull his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling them down a long with his boxers. his cock springs up, the familiar sight making your mouth drool. his tip was leaking already of precum, causing you to run your tongue along his slit, cleaning it off. he darts his tongue out to wet his lips as he whispers, "that's it..."

he brings his hand back down to your cheek as he rubs it gently. your eyes stay locked with his as you lower your mouth around his aching tip. his grip on your face tightens slightly from the sensation of your mouth finally around him again. you wasted no time, your mouth took him in easily, it was like you never forgot how to handle him. you bob your head up and down at a steady pace, causing Matt to throw his head back, "fuck..." he mutters out with a groan following after. your eyes stay up at him, the sight of him making you clench your thighs. the view of his jawline and his adam's apple bobbing from him trying to stifle his noises made you want him more. you quicken the pace, the tip grazing your throat occasionally. you use your one hand to pump the remainder of his base, the other hand rubbing his thigh gently. he slips his fingers through your hair, gripping it, and pushing your head down slowly. you allow it, taking him in deeper in your throat. the air escaping your lungs as you gag lightly, which earns you a deep groan from Matt, "naughty fucking girl..." he lets out, "gagging on my dick when you said you would what?" he asks teasingly while you begin to bob your head once again, now his full hitting the back of your throat, still gagging. "never, ever, feel a type of way towards me? huh?" he scoffs as he continues to grip your hair, helping you guide your mouth up and down. he shuts his eyes tight, "I knew I couldn't fucking believe anything that came out this dirty mouth." he says. "you can't stand me huh? that's why you're on your knees taking it?" the filthy and humiliating truth falling from his mouth made you hum back in response, sending vibrations through his body.

"can't argue with me now." he lets out with a dry chuckle. your hands grip his thighs as your plump lips run up his length, sucking on his tip, making him squirm from the new feeling, "shit-" the mumbled word escapes his throat. you flick your tongue on his slit of his tip, "fuck, get up." he demands breathlessly. you quickly get up, his fingers immediately looping into your belt holes, pulling you down onto his lap, his lips crashing onto yours hungrily. his hands tug you in towards him, wanting you closer as your chest presses up against his. the kiss is heated, your guys' breathing in sync, your hips bucking against him, trying to feel some kind of friction to ease your aching core. he snakes his hand up to your throat, gripping it as he murmurs against your lips, "what? you want it?" he asks as his mouth continues to move against yours. you nod eagerly but that didn't satisfy him, he grips your neck even tighter, "come on, use that fucking mouth." he mutters lowly. a gasp releases from your mouth, your lips parting as your hand goes to grip his tightening hand. "n-need it." you manage to get out which makes Matt scoff humorously, "need it?" he repeats mockingly as he releases you from his grip, "show me." he says. you lift yourself off from his lap, eagerly pulling your pants down, letting it fall to your ankles as you step out of them. Matt tugs down your panties, "so fucking desperate." he murmurs as he pulls you back down onto his lap.

he slides his tip a long your folds as he whispers, "you're really doing a good job at convincing me..." you whimper gently, "w-what do you mean?" you stutter out. he lowers you down on his dick slowly, gripping your ass, "convincing me how much of a fucking liar you are." he utters out, suddenly pounding into you, not giving you time to adjust. "your bullshit little scene not too long ago." his thrusts are punishing, yelps leave your mouth every time his tip hits your g spot. you grip his shoulders, his fingers digging into your waist, "let me ask again." he huffs out as his eyes are locked onto yours, "what did you say earlier?" he asks. your brows are furrowed, words struggling to form, "I-I..." you whine out brokenly as he grips your hips, pounding into you faster, "come on, I know you're good with your mouth. tell me." he says, a grunt coming from him as he waits. not to anyone's surprise, you couldn't speak with the amount of whimpers and moans Matt was dragging out from ruining your folds. "never-." he says as he pounds, making you moan loudly, "ever-." another pound, "feel a type of way with me again?" he asks as he continues his thrusts slowly. "no! I didn't mean it-." you let out desperately, your body getting tired, and your eyelids getting heavy from the overwhelming pleasure.

"that's what I thought." he whispers, he feels himself coming close, "you going to let me fill you up?" he asks breathlessly. you nod your head immediately, "yes please." you whine out. that's all he needed to hear for him to pick up the pace again. you shut your eyes tight as you let out a scream of pleasure, "fuck-." he lets out with one last thrust, spilling his cum into you.

your own high coming right after from the warm feeling, filling you up. your body collapses onto his chest as you try to calm yourself down from your orgasm. yours and his breathing in sync.

"well..." Matt starts off, "we definitely got closer again." he says with a breathless chuckle, still buried inside you. "very close." you let out with a sheepish, tired smile. "let's get cleaned up sweetheart." he says, patting your lower back gently. you shake your head, nuzzling your face into his neck, "no, I want to stay like this." you say to differ. "with my cum still inside you?" he asks with a raised eyebrow. you shrug, "nothing that hasn't been done before." you murmur which makes him chuckle, "naughty girl..." he teases playfully, making you join in the laughter.

a/n: i need him to ruin me. anyways, hopefully you guys enjoyed that lol. alright, see you guys soon, again. 🤗

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gilbertscurls · 3 days ago

Text

responsible — matt sturniolo

Matt didn’t notice it at first.

It started small—barely-there shifts in the way you looked at him, lingering glances you didn’t think he caught. But Matt had always been observant when it came to you, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

He started connecting the dots the night you came over to the apartment and found him on the kitchen floor surrounded by a million unassembled IKEA parts. Chris and Nick had bailed on him hours ago, both declaring they “had better things to do” than decipher Swedish instructions. He was sweaty, frustrated, and halfway to throwing the Allen wrench across the room when you appeared in the doorway.

“Wow,” you teased, leaning against the frame, “domestic king.”

Matt rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “Shut up. This thing’s impossible.”

But then your gaze shifted—not to the instructions or the mess, but to him. More specifically, his hands as he carefully fitted two pieces together, brows drawn in concentration. And you just… stared.

It was subtle, but he caught it: the way your lips parted slightly, the way your fingers drummed against the doorframe, the way your voice came out a touch softer when you asked, “You’re… doing this all yourself?”

Something in your tone made his stomach flip.

“Yeah,” he muttered, trying to sound casual. “Figured I’d get it done before it turns into another one of those… Sturniolo disasters.”

You smiled, slow and a little lazy, like you knew something he didn’t. “Responsible and self-sufficient? Look at you.”

Your gaze flicked from the shelf to his hands, lingering there a second too long, and Matt caught it again. Your throat bobbed when you swallowed, your cheeks a little warmer than usual.

Interesting.

After that night, he started testing a theory.

The next time you hung out, you came over after a work, your voice raspy and tired. Without thinking, he filled up a glass of water, set it on the counter, and slid it toward you before you could even ask.

Your eyes flicked up to his, wide for a split second, before you whispered, “Thanks.”

He swore your cheeks were a little pinker after that.

Then came the real giveaway.

The next time was on a random Tuesday night. Chris and Nick were gaming in the living room, screaming loud enough to shake the walls, while Matt was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, towel slung over his shoulder.

You walked in mid-yawn, hair messy, hoodie half-zipped, and stopped dead in the doorway when you saw him at the sink.

“You’re… doing dishes?”

Matt glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You blinked, silent for a beat too long. “Like… voluntarily?”

He snorted, flicking water off his fingers. “Believe it or not, I know how to clean up after myself.”

“Since when?” you teased, leaning against the counter.

Matt rolled his eyes, but when he glanced at you again, you weren’t looking at the plates. You were watching him. Your gaze followed the flex of his forearm as he scrubbed, the veins in his hand when he turned off the faucet, the soft dip of his bottom lip when he bit it in concentration.

And then you blinked fast, like you’d caught yourself. “Right,” you mumbled, tearing your gaze away. “Cool.”

That’s when it clicked.

You liked this.

Not him being funny. Not him showing off. Not some grand romantic gesture. You liked him being… responsible.

It made no sense and perfect sense at the same time.

From then on, Matt couldn’t not notice it.

Every time he offered to drive instead of making you Uber, your pupils dilated.

Every time he reminded you to take your coat because it was cold, your lips curved in this soft, knowing smile.

Every time he picked up your coffee order without asking, you’d stare at him like he’d just hung the moon.

It was subtle, but to Matt, it felt loud.

And maybe—just maybe—he started leaning into it.

One night, you came over, hair damp from the rain, your oversized hoodie swallowing you whole.

“You look exhausted,” Matt said softly, taking your bag off your shoulder before you even asked.

“I am,” you sighed, kicking off your shoes.

“You eat?”

You shook your head, scrolling through your phone lazily. “Was gonna order something.”

Matt frowned, grabbing his keys from the counter. “I’ll go. What do you want?”

You blinked up at him, startled. “You… you’ll go get it?”

“Yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Text me what you want.”

You hesitated for a second, watching him, your fingers tightening around your phone like you were grounding yourself. “…Matt?”

He turned, eyebrows raised.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, biting back a smile.

But he caught it anyway—the way your chest rose and fell a little faster, the way you wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

When he got back twenty minutes later, you were curled up under his blanket, knees tucked to your chest, phone discarded on the couch.

He set the food on the coffee table, kneeling down so he was eye-level with you. “Hey,” he said gently. “Eat first, sleep after.”

You gave him this look—soft and unreadable and a little too warm—and for a second, he forgot how to breathe.

“Why are you… like this?” you whispered.

“Like what?”

“So…” You trailed off, lips twitching as if you were fighting a smile. “So responsible.”

Matt laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not,” you said, eyes dropping to your lap. “I just—” Your voice caught for half a second, almost too quiet to hear. “—like it.”

Something in his chest tightened, a slow, spreading heat that had nothing to do with the takeout bag sitting between you.

He sat back on his heels, pretending to busy himself with unpacking the food, but the corner of his mouth curved upward despite himself.

“Good to know,” he murmured softly, handing you a container.

You raised an eyebrow. “Good to know… what?”

Matt just shrugged, lips twitching as he reached for his own chopsticks. “Nothing,” he said casually, but there was a glint in his eyes you didn’t miss.

And he didn’t push it.

Didn’t tease you outright.

Didn’t make you explain.

But from that night on, he noticed the way you looked at him a little differently—and maybe, just maybe, he started leaning into that too.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn, @bamsblooming, @backwardshatnick, @whore4chris, @ivysturnss, @chrissturniolodailysluts

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mattsstarlet · 2 days ago

Text

a late night stream from camgirl!reader (ft) comments by pornstar!matt

based on this ask.

it was a typical friday night, you laid back in your fluffy bed wearing a skimpy blue thong with no bra on, not when matt was watching— as he always does, he has never once missed a stream since he’s discovered you— your webcam along with a ring light was propped up, your laptop a few inches away, displaying what your viewers saw each time you went live.

you start by spreading your legs, running your freshly manicured hand over your clothed heat. “hi, baby.” you say sweetly but seductively, giggling as the ray of men begin to fill up your chat box, only focusing on one particular user.

mattsturns: hi sweet girl. loving this color on you, baby.

“yeah?” you giggle once more, reaching for the small bullet and a wand. “why don’t you tell me… which one you love better then? lucky guy.”

mattsturns: you’ve always loved bigger things.

“that i do.” you grin sheepishly, knowing the truth behind his comment, your confidence sky rocketing. you put the small toy down, turning on the vibrator, jolting as you press it against your clothed clit. “oh fuck,” you whine softly, your clad feet propping up on the bed, using them as leverage to rub your needy cunt on the toy.

the faint sound of your fans tipping you is like music to your ears, earning $500 in just five minutes. a small wet patch turns your panties a darker color, you hook your finger around the fabric, moving it to the side. “you like my pretty pussy? m’so wet cause of you.” it made them hornier when you talked that way, as if you were directly talking to one person only, and maybe you were. maybe that person was matt. “wish you were here.”

mattsturns + $600

mattsturns: turn it higher for me sweetheart.

you obey as always, your needy sounds turning into moans, squirming against the wand. your back arches, your free hand grips the sheets and your toes curl. “oh— fuck me— gonna cum already!” you continue to hump the toy, chasing your orgasm only to stop once you feel your tummy clenching, whining at the loss.

“do you like it when i edge myself?” you ask in a desperate tone, slipping off your underwear, only wearing your thigh high socks. “it makes me cum faster at the end.” you smile, dragging your middle finger down your messy folds, bringing the digit to your mouth, sucking and rolling your eyes. “i taste so sweet.”

you spit on your fingers, dragging your saliva down from the midway of your tits to your your soaking cunt, plopping them into your needy hole. “oh my god, i’m leaking.” you cry, the desperation written in your face; brows pressed together as if they were glued, your big eyes rolled to the back of that empty brain, and your mouth slightly parted, bottom lip bruised from the biting.

your thighs shut around your hand, the build up of your orgasm haunting you. “n—need somethin’ bigger, please baby.” you choke, so close to letting go right then and there but another coin dropping sound pulls you away.

mattsturns + $500

mattsturns: i really like how good you take that purple cock.

his comments make you go feral, he knew exactly how to keep you on your toes, having your sloppy hole clench around your fingers as your eyes darted for the dildo he had the pleasure in molding for you. you grip the bottom, bringing the silicone to your lips. “this one?” you stupidly giggle, kissing the tip, kitty licking from the base back up, your mouth sucking on the mushroom. “s’my favorite toy cock i own.”

you decide on using your machine as well, grinning sheepishly as you hook the dildo onto the metal, flipping on your tummy. the extra webcams matt had gifted you, came to good use. your viewers had a perfectly good sight of your arched back, your dripping wet hole and of course, your flushed face. “it’s your turn to fuck me.”

your mouth drops open as it begins to fuck you, the whirling sound starting off slow. it easily slides in with your glistening mess, a shaky cry escaping your lips. “you’re so big— just like that, keep fucking me.” you whimper, your cunt was overly sensitive and stimulated, it made tears pool at your eyes as your knuckles turned white with a tight grip on your sheets.

+ speed level 2 - $200

mattsturns: you look so pretty when you cry.

“t—thank y-you,” you gasp, the fucking machine knocking all of the air out of your lungs, leaving you with your mouth open, drooling over your pillow. you can feel it, how the tip kisses your cervix, how the entire thing fits perfectly in your soppy, suctioning pussy. then, it hits you hard, a wave of pleasure ripping through your body like it had snatched your soul. it was too overwhelming, having to pull away from the repeatedly thrusting cock to squirt all over matt’s copy, leaving a white milky ring around the base as clear fluid drips down your nonstop trembling thighs.

you practically scream, tears running down your cheeks as your climax comes down, whimpering and breathing rapidly. “ohmygod— i’m so shaky.” you hiccup, your captivating, glossy eyes looking into the webcam with a soft pout. “was that good, baby?”

mattsturns + $1,000

mattsturns: fucking amazing. good girl.

his praise made a blissful grin appear on your lips, and that night you made a good $2,000 off of matt alone. he was your biggest fan, biggest supporter throwing money at you left and right. as you blew a kiss and ended your stream, an incoming message catches your attention.

matt 🎀⭐️🤗

im omw.

note ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ big thankies to matilda :)

#𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭 ©#✰ pornstar!matt x camgirl!reader prompts ✰#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolos #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo fandom #sturniolo triplets smut

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chrissonnyangel · 8 days ago

Text

⋆˙⟡ fix your hair baby

⋆·˚ ༘ * pairing... matt sturniolo x reader summary જ⁀➴ y/n and matt have somewhere to be after getting down and dirty...

"Oh fuck Matt, i'm coming!" You yelped out, body going limp shortly after.

Soft slaps and hushed breathing filled the comfortable silence. Your boyfriend, Matt, wasn't too far behind in chasing his own high. Slight overstimulation began to sting from your insides, as his dick twitched and spasmed inside your tight pussy. Matt came with a rough groan and leaning down to nuzzle his sweaty forehead into the creak of your neck.

"Fuuck baby. You're perfect." His kissed to corner of your lips. "Y'made for me." Before you could respond, he landed another sweet kiss to your lips. A smile tugged at your cheeks as a faint blush spread across your face. Matt's hand traced shapes in the dip of your waist. Spreading goosebumps over your stomach. You both stared lovingly into each others eyes as the seconds turned into minutes. Your boyfriend's eyes looked dazed a tired as his irises danced down your aching body. You shivered under his gaze.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up then we can head out, yeah?" He broke the intimate silence and tapped twice against your thigh. You hummed in response as Matt hooked one arm behind your knees and the other supporting your bare back. He carried you tentatively towards the en-suit bathroom. The light flicked on and casted a warm glow over you both. Matt placed you down onto the toilet carefully and kneeled down to your level.

"I need you to go to the bathroom, i'll be waiting just outsi-"

"Can you stay with me, but, just-like, look away? I'm feeling clingy." You interrupted and smiled at your boyfriend, searching for the answer in his eyes.

Matt laughed lightly and under his breath before he replied, "Of course." He stood up and to the side, all while holding your hand with a soft, soothing grip. Once you had finished your business, Matt perched you on the bathroom counter, where he could wipe you down. His actions filled with care, admiration and love.

Before you knew it, you two were both dressed back into the clothes you were once in, of course with the help of Matt slowing the whole process down. He slipped your shirt over your head like you were a porcelain doll. Placing kisses along your shoulders and up to your forehead after every step. The apples of your cheeks began to ache from the constant smiling and red hues gliding across them.

You were just about to head out of the front door, but Matt made a subtle coughing noise that caught your attention. Spinning on your heels, you were greeted with your boyfriend, smirking.

"What?" Confusion flooded through you.

"Fix your hair baby." Matt brought his hands up to motion, running hands through his brown locks. "We don't want anyone to know what we were up to, do we?"

✮⋆˙ 🏷- @whore4chris @courta13 @cherrystainss @leila-marie4 @csturnioloswifey @l0s3rhaha @starryfursturniolo @taytaysttpd @sheluvsthesturniolos @tezzzzzzzz @hamzahsn1gf @sturniolo-szn2 @mattspillowprincess @h3arts4nat @sturnl0ve @444sturns @sturnspink

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cinnamonsturns · 1 day ago

Text

lip liner & handprints.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 toxic!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

content warning: nsfw content. porn with some plot. matt’s a lil mean. semi-public sex. unprotected sex. creampie. fingering. spanking. slight degradation. slight breeding kink. light biting. mentions of spit. hair pulling. dirty talk.

word count: 1.9k

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you and matt didn’t have the best track record. never official but almost always exclusive. matt just wasn’t overly interested in any girl that wasn’t you and you didn’t dare toe that line either. but that didn’t mean he wasn’t difficult.

you’d go days without a response from him, he likes to make you work for him. he’d watch your texts go from nonchalantly suggesting that you two meet up, to more frequent and begging. he’d have you half taken apart before he even stepped foot into your apartment.

you didn’t entirely understand why he did this, the chase maybe. it was fun, but it got frustrating when he blatantly wouldn’t pay attention to you, or acknowledge your presence when you knew you’d be in his bed that night.

it left you feeling a bit stuck. its not that he’s ignoring you for another girl or something, he’s just talking with his friends, not sparing you a single look. you’re not even entirely sure if he’s intentionally trying to get under your skin, but it is.

you know enjoying yourself and talking to your friends won’t get his attention like it does yours, but you know better than to try and get his attention with another guy. you don’t wanna level the playing field, open up the opportunity for him to go flirt with a girl in turn.

you’re currently doing everything you can to get his attention, all the little things you know that drive him crazy in hopes he’ll drop this stupid game and just come up to you. but he doesn’t. doesn’t even take his eyes off of the guy he’s listening to so intently.

the best you could do was flirt with one of your guy friends. someone who would do anything for your attention, but who matt knew was just your friend. this way, you could just pull the ‘he’s just a friend’ if matt felt any type of way about it.

was it unfair? yeah, maybe. but it what was more unfair was how fucking good matt looked tonight, across the room not paying an ounce of attention to you. not even a glance.

you started subtle, innocent tilts of your head and light giggles at your guy friend who’s always had a thing for you. you made sure to peer over the rim of your cup every time you took a sip just to see if matt was looking. nothing.

so you kick it up a notch. grabbing his bicep to stabilize yourself when he makes a joke, looking up at him with a dopey smile. he sets you up perfectly when you babble some nonsense at him and doesn’t hear you, leaning down for his ear to be level with your mouth so you can repeat yourself.

what you say to him is irrelevant, something about a mutual friend you two share. when he straightens back up, matt is right in your line of sight, expressionless but he’s finally looking at you.

you put what might be the nail in your coffin after locking eyes with matt, flashing your guy friend an innocent smile before you head towards a bathroom. while you hadn’t said anything suggestive to him, matt doesn’t know that.

if you played your cards right, matt’s thinking this guy is about to follow you to the bathroom. you let the bathroom door click shut behind you, leaning over the counter as you unzip your purse to get out your lipliner.

bent at the waist over the counter to get closer to the mirror, you uncap the lipliner and start drawing it on, gasping when the bathroom door opens and bumps your hip, smudging it slightly.

you spin around to tear into whoever just ruined your mouth, about to ask them if they’ve ever heard of knocking, but you’re met with matt. right, matt. you didn’t expect him this soon, figuring he had to conjure up a good enough excuse to not be detected by his friends.

he steps into the bathroom, giving you a once over before shutting the door behind him, the click of the lock deafening in the small space. he leans back against the door, scoffing lightly.

“don’t look so fuckin’ shocked,” he mutters, “acting like you didn’t leave the door unlocked on purpose.”

you go to defend yourself, to tell him you meant to lock it but are cut off by your own squeal when he spins you around to press your front against the bathroom counter, bent forward at your waist like you were moments ago when it was just you in the bathroom.

he flips your skirt up with a sharp spank to your ass, causing you to jolt forward against the counter. your eyes meet his in the mirror as he gropes and kneads the stinging flesh, and he shakes his head at your pout.

“nah,” he laughs, delivering another spank to your ass. “not taking my time with you. would’ve done that if you just were patient and waited until i got you home.”

“just gonna fuck you like the slut you wanna be so bad, twirlin’ your hair n’ shit at your friend.”

your pout grows at his words and your head whips around when you hear the fabric of your panties rip as he tugs the waistband down with too much force, his fingers just ripping through the delicate lace.

he glares at you as he works his own pants and boxers off, spitting into his palm to work it over his hard cock even though he can guess you’re already dripping for him.

he rubs his tip through your puffy folds, his breath hitching as it catches against your entrance. when he looks up to see you looking over your shoulder at him, his free hand comes to fist your hair, guiding your head to look straightforward into the mirror.

when your eyes meet his in the reflection, he tugs your hair again, angling your head the slightest bit downward.

“don’t look at me,” he instructs flatly, “look at yourself. you wanted my attention so bad, watch yourself take it.”

you see your brows pinch together and your lips fall into a sharp gasp when he pushes into you, deep and abrupt, like he’s been waiting for this too.

he quickly sets an unforgiving pace, one that has the sound of his hips plapping against your ass echoing in the small space of the bathroom, and a small patch of fog clouding the mirror in front of your mouth as you pant and mewl hotly against the glass.

his hand not in your hair is tight on your hip, keeping you bent and arched over the edge of the counter. he leans over your back, clothed chest meeting yours as he watches you in the mirror.

his breath is hot against your ear, puffs of air brushing the shell as he asks, “do you think he would have fucked you like this?” punctuated with a singular, sharp thrust that causes your hand to brace against the mirror.

when you shake your head weakly, the faintest smirk tugs at his lips. “do you think he would’ve been soft with you?” he continues.

“i don’t-,” you’re cut off by another singular, sharp thrust that seems to be punctuating all his questions. “i don’t know,” you gasp.

“no, you don’t.” he agrees, returning to a more consistent pace but one that still makes your head spin. “i’m sure he doesn’t know how much of a slut you are either, tryin’ to get my attention all fuckin’ night.”

you cry out softly as he returns to a quicker pace, hand trembling against the mirror. you watch your face as he fills you, entirely fucked out and wrecked for anyone but him. the baby hairs around your hairline sticks to your forehead, the looser strands that frame your face move with every thrust from matt.

you don’t have it in you still to find the pang of annoyance in your chest when you notice the sloppy little line of lip liner smudged across your bottom lip from when matt bumped you with the door.

it didn’t last long anyways when matt’s hand leaves your hip to slip around the front of your mouth, smearing his pointer finger over your glossy lip before prying your mouth open, slipping his finger between your teeth.

you don’t bite down on it hard, just letting it sit between your teeth before he pushes it fully into your mouth when he decides to let you suck. he groans from behind you when your messy lips close around his finger, your moans effectively quieted by the digit in your mouth.

he notices when your eyes start to flutter, and he doubles down on his efforts to keep you looking at yourself. his finger leaves your lips, spit slick fingers grabbing you by your jaw, effectively holding your head in place as well as squishing your cheeks together slightly, emphasizing your pout.

“watch,” he grits, “watch how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

the combination of his hand so firmly on your jaw, his breath hot against your ear and the soft hitches of his breath and occasional low moans makes the knot in your tummy form. not to mention the way his tip has kissed your cervix almost every time he’s thrusted into you from the start.

“gonna-,” you hiccup, “gonna cum.” and he nods, lips closing around the lobe of your ear before pressing a soft kiss against your temple, “i know,” he breathes.

he fucks you through your orgasm, the way your reflection goes fuzzy from your eyes as pleasure takes over you. his hips bury flush against your ass, spilling into you with a soft whine as his damp forehead presses against your shoulder.

you’re heaving against the counter, staring dazed at the condensation your breath left on the mirror and the way your hair sticks to your forehead, the rest of your hair matted and messy from matt’s grip.

you almost squirm entirely onto the countertop as matt pulls out of you, only to replace his cock with his fingers, pushing his cum back into your leaking hole.

“keep me in here, yeah?” he asks, voice soft now. he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to your smudged lips for you to lick what’s left clean. he pulls his jeans back up, flipping your skirt back down to cover your ass.

the last glance he gives you is warm, cocky smirk set on his lips as he does his belt back up. “have fun talkin’ to your friend.” he murmurs before slipping out of the bathroom door.

you straighten yourself up after he leaves, trying to salvage what’s left of your appearance. you actually fix your lipliner this time, but it doesn’t do much to hide the swollenness from how you were biting at them. you wince as your fingers rake through your hair, getting out what knots you can and smoothing it down as best you can without a brush.

once you’re as satisfied with your appearance as you can get, you slip quietly out of the bathroom after giving matt enough time to maybe make it far enough ahead of you that it wasn’t obvious that you were in there together.

it might be obvious you were with him, the way you’re waddling around trying to keep his cum from slipping down your thighs. it’s obvious someone was in the bathroom though, because you forgot to wipe your handprint off the mirror where it was braced by your head.

───────────────────────────

authors note: im talkin bout innnniiiiiiittttttt. back on my long ass smut bullshit ig. sorry for being a slut at 2pm there is no rest for the wicked.

taglist: @oopsiedaisydeer @sturnskiss @spookysturniolo @charrmeddd @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @bbgirlmatt @snowprincessleopard

#©cinnamonsturns #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut

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