#matt x y/n

[ch0llies]

ROCK ME | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

oneshot - sunshine!reader x goldenboy!chris

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

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

word count: 10k (sorry)

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t want to think about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was nothing compared to the first time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asks, side-eyeing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or the time he came on vacation with your family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like he’s remembering, too.

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

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

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

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

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

And he did. Again and again and again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris shrugs, smirking. “And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love.

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

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

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

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

Chris doesn’t need to be told twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you give him what he wants.

“I want you to rock me,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

“Need you to say it, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours.

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

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

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

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

Chris was rubbing himself against the mattress.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And God, you want him so bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, breathless, fingers digging into his shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If anything, it only makes him hungrier.

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes please,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But there’s no control here.

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

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

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

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

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

And fuck, that’s all it takes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chris,” you breathe, tugging him closer.

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

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

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

“More,” you gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate.

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

And you knew you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just fuck me already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is what you love about Chris.

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

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

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

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

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

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ meet me in the bathroom . . . m.s

in which . . . matt can’t resist fucking you in the bathroom of a wedding reception.

warnings . . . smut, public fingering, unprotected sex, degradation & more. read with discretion.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the venue looked as elegant as ever, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting a warm light into the big space. tables were set everywhere, as well as people sitting down and chatting. you could hear the noises of plates and cutlery tapping against each other lightly. you sat at a table with your boyfriend matt, and his three brothers. marylou and jimmy were talking with people they knew at the wedding. the ceremony had already ended, but the party was just beginning.

you looked over at matt, analyzing his features. he looked so fucking good right now. he wore his tuxedo with a dior tie. matt turned his head to look at you, smiling. “what’s wrong?” he chuckled, he spoke loud enough so only you could hear him. you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you look so handsome.” you lifted your head to kiss his cheek, your head falling back on his shoulder. matt took his hand, placing it tenderly on your thigh. he began rubbing it, teasingly almost.

“yeah?” he whispered into your ear. matt scooted in closer to the table, so his hand wouldn’t be seen as it traveled up your dress. your breath hitched as you felt matt’s hand brush over your clothed pussy. he gently shushed you into your ear, it was a challenge to hold in your moans. you were lucky that no one was paying attention. you felt matt’s thumb press against your clit over your underwear, rubbing tight circles.

“breathe, baby.” matt whispered, your breaths uneven as he continued teasing you, he knew exactly what he was doing, it was torture. you buried your head into his shoulder, whimpering into it quietly as you felt his fingers slide into your underwear, gliding across your soaked folds underneath your dress. “so wet f’me..” matt whispered to you, your pussy ached, deprived of touch. soon enough, people began to get up and head to the dance floor, the lights dimmed as music turned on.

“let’s go.” matt spoke quietly to you, sliding his fingers out of your panties and taking your hand to help you get up. matt practically dragged you to the bathroom, not caring about the fact that he just walked into a random one. the bathroom was empty, it had marble sinks and gold faucets. matt pulled you into a stall, locking the door of the stall and pushing you up against it in one swift movement.

“matt—“ you croaked out as he lifted your dress, displaying your soaked panties. you gasped as matt pulled them down to your ankles quickly, pushing his fingers inside of your desperate pussy without hesitation. you moaned, throwing your head back as his fingers pumped in and out of you, occasionally curling. the pleasure was overwhelming, it felt as if you were in a whole new dimension.

“if we’re gonna do this, you need to be quiet.” matt said as he cupped your cheek, muffling your moans as he slowly leaned in to kiss you, trying to keep you quiet in case someone walked in. matt’s hands traveled up to your boobs, squeezing them as he continued to kiss you, his lips moving in a slow but desperate rhythm. “such a fuckin’ tease, wearing my favorite dress and teasin’ me all night?” matt murmured as he pulled away from your face, undoing his belt and pulling the pants of his tuxedo down.

all you could do was moan in response, matt grabbed your waist firmly and held you still, his cock lining up with your entrance as he slowly slid into you. you gasped at how good it felt, your back arching against the stall. matt groaned as he slowly began to thrust into you at a steady pace. “matt—oh my god..” you moaned, matt leaned into your face kissing you deeply once more. you moaned into his mouth as you felt his cock go deeper…and deeper.

“yeahhh…y’like that?” matt’s voice was seductive as he mumbled against your mouth, his lips planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, his thrusts not stopping. “need to cum, please..” you whimpered, matt nodded, helping you reach your climax. “go ahead, pretty girl.” matt whispered. the both of you released, you moaned matt’s name one last time before he pulled out of you. if it wasn’t for matt’s firm grip on you, you would’ve for sure collapsed.

matt gently kissed your cheek, grabbing a few pieces of toilet paper to clean you up. “you did amazing, love.” matt praised, gently wiping your pussy. you hummed in response, matt pulled your dress back down carefully. “let’s go, we have a whole night of partying ahead of us.” matt joked as he got dressed and opened the stall door. the both of you were insanely lucky that no one had walked in.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

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[trevorsgodmother]

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓭 (M.S 🌧/☁️)

☞ Masterlist Warnings: Angst, swearing, PERIOD PAINNNN 😍, crying, sobbing, did I mention pain? POV: First person (reader) Summary: It's that time of month! Excruciating pain! IT FUCKING HURTS, and ur boyfy Matty B helps comfort you 🥰

We're laying down in his bedroom, Matt hugging me from behind, breathing quietly in my ear. He's sound asleep, dead to the world around him, while I'm fading in and out of a light doze.

His bedroom door opens, and in comes his older brother Nick. The light flicks on, interrupting the somewhat comforting darkness of the room. I squint, suddenly blinded.   "Hm?" "Sorry to wake you up sleepyhead, I was just gonna see if Matt was awake" Nick says, walking in further. I shake my head to tell him that he's not, and he nods. "Turn the light off" I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nick sighs in amusement, turning it off. "All three of you are like vampires, I swear." He chuckles, referring to me and his two brothers. A wave of pain crashes into my abdomen, making me flinch. Nick's smile wavers. "Hey, you ok?" I nod, burrowing further down into the soft blankets. “Hurts” Nick nods sympathetically. “Do you need more painkillers?” I shake my head because I’d already taken some a few hours ago.

We talk for a few more minutes, but it’s mostly him yapping to distract me while I fail to get comfortable (I need Nick as my bestie so bad).

I keep shifting against Matt, and he groans in his sleep, getting slightly roused (not aroused SLUTS). He, half-asleep, clamps a hand down HARD on my stomach, pulling me backwards into him so I stop moving around. I wince, and Nick carefully pries Matt’s hand off, muttering under his breath about how his brother doesn’t know personal space.

“That idiot. He has no sense of his surroundings when he’s asleep.” I chuckle a little. “Yea, he moves around a lot.” Nick softly starts rubbing my stomach, trying to soothe the cramps. His palm is warm. "How's that feel..? Am I helping?" He asked. He was worried that nothing was working to make the pain go away. "Yea, thanks but it still-" I wince again. Because of our murmuring and my restlessness, Matt wakes up.

He slowly opens his eyes and groans, looking over at us two. "What's going on...?" He questioned, voice still groggy with sleep. "She's hurting a lot." Nick says, looking worried "And your dumbass kept hitting her in your sleep." Matt looks confused for a moment, before glancing down at where his arm is pushed off my stomach, and grimaces.

"Shit- sorry babe. I didn't realize I was doing that.." He looks guilty for his unconscious actions. I shake my head, reassuring him. "It's ok, you didn't do much. It's killing me though" Matt looked even more worried then, and he gently placed his hand on my stomach, feeling how much it hurt for himself. "God.. it feels like your stomach is on fire.. and the pain killers aren't doing anything?" He questioned, gently rubbing my stomach just like Nick had been doing. I shake my head, feeling more waves of pain wash over me.

It was too much. Nick leaves to make some tea, and my eyes fill with tears. Matt's widen, and he looks alarmed. "Hey hey hey..! It's okay, alright? Don't cry." He quickly tried to comfort me. The tears spill over, and the combination of pain and hormones make me start sobbing into his chest. He pulls me in closer, stroking the back of my head while whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Matt helps me calm down, my cries slowing down to hiccups. The cramps had dulled down to a throb, just mildly uncomfortable at this point. Nick comes back in, grinning a bit sheepishly, and places a steaming cup of tea on the bedside table. "Sorry that took so long (like this fucking fic)" I sniff and shake my head, smiling to lessen his guilt.

"It's ok. Thank you." Nick nods and leaves, casting Matt a half-joking look of anger for his earlier actions. Matt rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to me. He continues running his fingers through my hair, helping me relax. "Damn, this month's being a bitch, huh?" He mumbles. I don't reply, too exhausted by my outpour of emotions and the pain.

We stay like that for a bit, my stomach settling while he continues to comfort me. He turns on a movie and we cuddle under the sheets. His warm body is pressed against mine, while my head is tucked under his chin.

Matt is humming slightly, his breath tickling my head and making me giggle. A wide smile breaks out on his face, the mood instantly lifted. "Why're you getting so giggly huh?" He asks in mock-confusion. I shake my head fondly, lightly pushing his chest. "Shut up, dumbass" "Hey, this dumbass made you feel better. Also, i'm pretty smart." I roll my eyes "No you're not, idiot"

A/N: If you can't tell, it's my shark week 😔 AND IT HURTS SM OMFG. I need a cuddle from Chris rn. There was also a little throwback at the end (ogs will get it) TL: @hearts4werka @stvrnzcherries @spaghetti835928383 @pvssychicken @snowysosturn @sturnmeovr No shtealing Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3 -Ropitipop 👁👅👁

[sturniolotwins]

im at loss of words

[celenexox]

you were currently laying in bed on the phone with your friend as she’s telling you about some drama happening in her life, suddenly the door swings open to your boyfriend matt

you mute the phone to welcome matt in “oh hey baby i didn’t know you were coming over!”

“i know it was a surprise” he says laying down on your bed, putting his head in between your thighs and getting comfortable

you start to message his hair and go back to talking to your friend, hoping for the conversation to end quickly so that you can get back to your boyfriend, matt notices that he does not have your attention right now so to get you to take notice of him, he starts kissing your thighs softly

you were caught by surprise of what he was doing and muted the mic again “matt- baby, just wait a few more minutes please”

he ignores you, starting to trail further upwards, lifting your shirt up a little and returning to his act of leaving kisses on your body, he looks up at you noticing the way you’re struggling to keep your composure

you attempt to push him off you, but that resulted in him just going further up and starting to leave hickeys on your neck, you think to yourself that it’s a good thing your cameras off “matt, oh fuck- just give me a minute”

“can’ttt do that” he finally says something, still sucking on your neck

a few minutes pass and you were happy to see a shift in the conversation as it starts to die down, your friend starts to say how she has to go and you reply “we’ll talk to me later okay, i wanna know- oh god, if anything else happens between you and your boyfriend” you could barely hang on any longer and hang up the phone, you thought that conversation would never end, in an instant you push matt off your neck “you couldn’t have waited a few minutes huh?” implanting your lips onto his in a matter of seconds

he pulls out the kiss “nope” then goes back.

[lockettesstage]

werewolf!matt who loves to leave love bites on pixie!reader. whether it be on her neck, or on her thighs. he’s always leaving a mark on her to show everyone she’s his

"You guys are sick. Im tired of seeing the marks all over Pixie's body. Tired of it, Matthew." Nick grumbles as he stares in disgust at Matt draped over you, head in the crook of your neck, teeth sunk in the flesh of it.

"Youre ruining her skin, dude." Chris chimes in from his spot slumped on the couch. Matt pulls away from your neck, lips slick with his own spit and his teeth slightly bared, canines glistening. You swear he gets off by just having his teeth sunk into you. He sits up, eyes hazy, and drool dribbling down his chin slightly, he's messy with it.

Nick audibly makes a noise of disgusts, something between a groan and a gag. "This is so gross." He whines before walking off to his room. Chris just laughs and motions to his own chin. "You got a little something...on your face, Matt."

Matt reaches a hand up to wipe at his chin, and he looks genuinely shocked when his hand comes back wet. He looks back to you, while your hand wipes at your neck, taking the spit off of it, and rubbing your fingers over the indents of his teeth in your neck.

You smile as Matt smiles, his is more of a smirk than anything else. "Thats fun, i like that." He murmurs leaning back down to lay his head on your shoulder.

"Yeah I know you do, wolf boy." You reply with a sigh as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Theres silence for a beat until you gasp, hand tightening in Matt's hair as his teeth find solace in your collarbone. Great.

[aniesvision]

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒔

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 + 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒔, 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

(btw no taglist bc this is too random)

[chriss-slut]

dude i swear i'm starting to go crazy i'm not even lying

like he's not hard, and it's HUGE

[sturniqlo]

COMFORT- SHY!MATT x SHY!READER

summary- matt loves how comfortable darling is around him, it turns him on at certain times (matt being a whole different person in bed.. yum)

cw: SMUT; dom(ish)!matt, p in v, making out, nipple play, oral!f receiving, creampie, FLUFF

an: thank you to this anon (also, this is my first ever shy!matt x darling smut fic, p.s i know the pajama bottoms are actually shorts but pretend they're underwear)

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

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it was that point in their relationship where darling was getting very comfortable around matt-and vice versa-, not that she wasn't ever comfortable around him, just comfortable in a different light. she started doing things around him that she would only do when she was alone. one of those things is walk around in her underwear or bra.

"i'm gonna shower really quick." she said with her clothes and towel in hand. "okay, i'll be here." matt smiles as he sits against her headboard her fluffy blanket over his lap. matt being matt, puckers his lips signaling he wants a kiss. darling doesn't think anything of it, in all honestly she loves when he does that, it's because normal for them.

she even catches herself doing it sometimes. "mwah!" she intentionally says as she plants a kiss onto his lips, she can still taste the faint sherbet ice cream they shared. "don't take long, i'll miss you." he teases, squeezing her hip gently. "i'll try not to." she pecks his lips this time before making her way to the bathroom out in the hall.

as matt waited for her, scrolling through her streaming services on her tv, he got up and went down to the kitchen to get a snack. darling's parents were currently out on a camping trip since it was their anniversary weekend. with their permission, matt was able to come and stay over. they trusted matt and darling as they were once young and in love.

he opened the fridge grabbing two cold water bottles as he noticed her water bottle was almost empty. placing both of them on the island counter, matt opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. he saw the half eaten tray of her dad's strawberry danish and held back from grabbing a piece. her dad was serious about his danishes.

opting for some chips and a bit of chocolate chip cookies, he made his way back upstairs into her bedroom. as matt passed the bathroom, he heard the running water and her slight humming to the song she played on low volume.

matt returned back to the room and dug into the snacks he had brought up. still continuing to scroll through the streaming services, he didn't choose anything because he wanted to wait for darling and see what she would want to watch.

he looked around her room noticing small details that she had added. a new sonny angel hipper was added to the back of her flatscreen tv, the calendar matt had gifted her with pictures of them was hung up on her closet door, and a new pair of shoes was added to her shoe rack. he noticed every little detail.

it was about fifteen minutes later when darling walked through the door, her hair up in her designated hair towel. when matt realized what she was wearing, his breath hitched. she wore a white teddy bear tank paired with matching teddy bear boxer like underwear.

she had just started doing this around matt, walking around in her underwear. he cleared his throat as he caught himself watching her as she went into her closet to put her dirty clothes into her hamper. "find something to watch?" she said in a soft tone as she sat in her vanity across the room, watching him through the mirror as she combed her hair. "huh- oh- uh, no. i was uh- i was waiting for you. see what you wanted to watch."

she didn't realize his now worked up state. "you can put modern family back on." darling did her skincare, and lathered herself in her sweet scented lotion that drove matt crazy. he went to hulu to put the show, but he kept glancing back at darling who stood up to lather her legs.

the ends of her underwear rode up slightly and exposed the bottom of her ass cheeks. "shit." he muttered under his breath, shifting in the bed putting the blanket back over his lap. darling came closer to the bed and smiled at matt. "i feel so clean." she giggled, sitting on top of the blanket. "baby, are you not hot?" her dad had cranked up the heater before he left and it was really warm in the house.

"no- no, not really." he nervously chuckled, her scent engulfed his sense of smell. he looked down to play with his fingers, but caught eye of her plump thighs. "well i am. it's like ninety degrees in here." she fanned her tank top. matt stared at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra either.

they were a couple of episodes in and darling ended up laying on her belly towards the end of the bed, which was the worst decision in matt's eyes. the curve of her ass was taunting him. the way it jiggled when she laughed or made a slight movement to get comfy, and the way her underwear rode up more.

darling didn't do it intentionally, in all honesty the thought of matt being worked up didn't cross her mind. she soon sat up and scooted to matt. "i'm bored." she told him, kneeling next to him running a hand through his hair. "what do you wanna do?" he said, his eyes raking up to her eyes and down to her lips.

"are you sure you're okay? you look pretty flustered." she furrows her eyebrows. "baby-" she gasped. "are you.. hard?" he groaned. "darling.. you're- you just look so good." she blushed at his words. "why didn't you tell me? i could've helped you all this time." she moved the blanket off of him and straddled his lap. matt was never one to just ask for sex- he was too shy to do so, he would give her little touches here and there or just stare at her.

"you know why." his hands came to rest on the silver of her skin where her tank top rode up. her hips slowly rolled against his. "baby." his threw his head slightly back. darling took the opportunity to kiss against his neck. matt got hold of her chin and connected their lips in a hungry kiss. "such a tease, hm? wearing your tiny panties around me." his finger dipped into the waistband of her underwear and let it slap against her skin. "mmph!" she whined against his lips.

"can i?" he pulled away from her, their lips red and swollen, his hands slipped under her tank top, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "please- yes." she nodded- she was now as equally as needy as him. matt wasted no time in taking her shirt off. her full, round tits on display for him. "so pretty, darling. so fucking pretty." he growled, taking her right tit into his mouth. his wet, pink tongue swirled around her nipple as he stared up at her, her eyes closed in pleasure.

"matt, oh- shit." her back arched, furthering herself more into matt. "love your tits, babe." he popped off of her nipple, moving onto the left one as his hand came up to knead the one he had in his mouth before.

after some time, he began to trail kisses around her chest up to her collarbone, up her neck eventually making it back to her lips. "lay on the bed f'me. c'mon." he patted the side of her thigh. darling came off of his thigh and laid next to him. matt hovered over her, pressing a few kisses to her neck. his kisses trailed down her body until he reached the hem of her underwear. "matt- please." she looked down at him.

"patience, darling." matt continued to press teasing kisses along her underwear. a wet patch began to form on her panties. "wet already?" he smirked, his finger prodding at the patch. "mhm- so wet for you." she rolled her hips wanting more. after pressing a kiss to her wetness, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled them down. "lift up f'me." she lifted her hips so he'd be able to pull them down her legs.

he tossed the underwater somewhere on the bed, putting her legs over his shoulders. "look at that. pussys so pretty." matt was face to face with her glistening folds that we're aching to be touched. darling shivered when his breath fanned against her wetness.

pressing kisses along her inner thighs, so very close to her core, matt licked and nipped until she was a squirming wanted to be licked where she needed it most. "please, stop- stop teasing." she whined, gripped his hair to try and guide him to her pussy. "am i being mean, hm?" his tongue made very small contact, but quickly pulled away.

matt thought he had teased enough and dipped his tongue into her hole, licking a stripe up to her clit. "oh- yes!" she smiled at the feeling of his warm tongue on her. "so good, darling. taste so good." he lapped up her arousal. sucking on her lips, her back arched at the sensation- the suction around her lips and the vibrations of his muffled moans.

"just like that- fuck!" her hands fisted at the bed sheets as she didn't want to hurt matt's scalp. darlings moans and pants filled the room, her constant whines when matt would pull away for a split second. matt's hands trailed up her body as she continued to eat her out. his fingertips found her tits and he rolled her nipples in between his thumb and forefinger.

he soon pulled away due to the ache in his pants becoming too much. "baby, please let me- let me fuck you." he mumbled as he kissed up her body. he sucked a few marks onto her neck. darlings hands creeped into his hair. "mhm, yes. i want you in me." she whispered into his ear, his hips rolled against her. "yeah?" he bit down on her neck. "so bad, please." she held the sides of his face and stared at him. matt broke into a smug smile, leaning down to press their lips together.

as their lips and tongue clashed together, matt pulled down both his pants and underwear throwing them somewhere. he stroked his hard cock a couple of times, pulling away from the kiss. darling looked down to where his cock was and saw the red leaking tip, her pussy clenched around nothing. "ready f'me?" he said, slapping his dick against her clit. "yes, i'm ready." she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

matt lined his tip up with her wet hole and slowly pushed into her. darling moaned feeling the familiar stretch of matt's cock. "so tight." matt's jaw slacked at her warm walls squeezing him. once he bottomed out, he waited a few moments until she was ready for him to move.

"you can- you can move." she nodded, grabbing onto his shoulders. matt pushed out before thrusting back in making them both moan at the same time. "yes, just like that. faster, baby." darling whined. he accepted her wishes and picked up the speed.

the wet noises, along with their moans, now filled the air in her room. the occasional bang of the headboard against the wall was covered by the lewd noises. "feel you squeezing my cock, darling." he kissed just below her ear. "it's so good, matt. don't stop." her moans continued.

minutes later, matt pulled out causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. "matt- what- what are you doing." her glossy eyes looked up at him. "shh, it's okay, pretty." he pressed a kiss to her lips. "want you to flip over f'me. hands and knees, yeah?" matt knew that her being on all fours made it feel better and deeper for her. she nodded, her damp hair from her shower and the slight sweat made the baby hairs stick along her hairline.

matt got on his knees to give her space to flip over. once she was situated, matt got behind her and caressed the soft and plump skin of her ass. his hand grabbed his dick and ran it up and down her puffy, wet folds. "oh- matt." she arched her back as he circled his tip against her hole. matt didn't ram himself in, but he certainly didn't hold back. her high pitched moans and whimpers began again. only this time they were louder due to the new position and angle.

"f-fuck, you're so deep." she mumbled against the bed sheets. her once hands and knees position turned into her being face down ass up. "yeah? feel me so deep inside of your tummy, babe." his hands came to the side of her ass, holding her as he went in and out of her. "so fucking deep." she repeated.

darling felt the familiar pressure building up in her lower belly, so she began backing her ass into him. matt groaned when he realized what she was doing. "you close, hm?" he groaned, his right hand on her ass and the other on the back of her neck. "yes- yes, so close. don't stop." she cried, wanting her release.

"cum for me. cum all over my dick." matt began to do long, deep strokes. "shit- just like that." the movement in his thrusts brought her more to the edge. her fingers curled into the pillow as she mewled. "i'm- fuck, i'm cumming!" her legs trembled as she released. "that's it, baby. all over my dick, mhm." he thrusted a couple of more times before he felt the familiar sensation.

"babe- i'm close." he gently brought her up to where her back was pressed up against his chest. "cum in me. want all of it, plea- please." she cried, her hand coming behind his head as he nipped at her neck. "oh- shit." his cock twitched inside of her as he came. matt kept messily thrusting against her as he rode his high.

once she started to whine, he stopped as he knew that she had become sensitive. "it's okay, i've got you." he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. slowly and carefully he laid her back down, still staying inside of her. "is it okay if i pull out? need to clean you up." she nodded. slowly, he pulled out watching as his cum leaked out of her. matt held back a groan at the sight.

"i'll be back, gonna get some tissue."

when matt finished cleaning her up, they showered together. "baby, c'mere. wanna braid your hair." matt patted his lap. "really? think you got it?" she teased. "i definitely improved since last time." darling sat in between his legs as he worked with her hair. "so it's right over left- no, no. right over left." he muttered to himself.

although he had to restart a couple of times, he finally finished it. matt took a picture and showed her. "alright, what do you think of my masterpiece?" he handed her his phone and wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her into his chest. "it's definitely something, i'll tell you that." she giggled. some parts were pretty loose and in some her hair was sticking out. "hey, i thought i did pretty good." he pouted, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"just gotta keep on practicing." she turned around and booped his nose.

[mattybsgroupie]

warm | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; p in v; creampie; cockwarming; semi-public sex; lowkey sub!matt

♡⊹𑄽୧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: good evening my loves!! im doing my best to post 1 full fic a week and hcs / blurbs on the other days i hope you guys see my effort lmfao “where’s dom matt” HE DOESNT LIVE HERE ANYMORE. HE’S GONE. and now we have a very long milf! X chris fic to work on. not proofread, enjoy!!!

♡⊹𑄽୧

matt was eager to try new things. new restaurants, new places to go, new parking lots to visit. in this particular night, you and matt had the duty to drive his brothers around. of course, he could just drop them off and pick them up later, but why not hanging out with his beautiful girlfriend while you both wait?

“where to, miss?” matt asked as his brothers walked out of the car, gently squeezing your thigh.

“wherever you wanna go” you say, placing your hand above his. throughout the ride, matt’s grip grew tighter and his breathe became heavier, as if there wasn’t enough air for you both. you sensed the shift in the atmosphere and gulped down, squeezing his hand lightly.

a small “hm?” came from matt’s lips, he was aware of each and every movement of yours. “no, nothing” you chuckled, trying to laugh it off.

the truth is that matt looked incredibly good, better than ever. his messy hair matched perfectly with his brown shirt and the cold metal of his rings pressed against your bare thighs, giving you goosebumps.

“c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind” matt said as soon as he parked the car on an empty street. “how on earth will your brothers find us?” you asked, noticing there was no one around.

“well, that’s the point” matt grinned, his fingertips wandering under your skirt. “i’m kidding, we have our location shared all the time so they’ll find us” he assured you, still caressing your skin.

“matt” you whispered, not being able to wait any longer before smashing your lips against his. he immediately leaned in, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue inside your mouth, dragging the damp muscle against yours.

the kiss was wet, loud and desperate, as if you were touching each other for the first time. matt’s pants started to tighten — he was so easy to get going. a lingering kiss, a neck bite, a naughty smile, anything from you would get him pathetically hard, just like now.

“fuck” matt breathed out. “missed you s’much” he said as his hands travelled through your body, touching all his favorites spots. he held your waist with both hands, trying to bring you closer somehow.

you smiled at his eagerness, pulling away from the kiss and moving to his lap. “there we go” matt whispered, forcing your hips down on his thigh. you gasped at the sudden pressure, trying to keep your composure.

“baby, we’re not gonna fuck here” you spoke when matt brought his fingers under your shirt. his blue orbs widened in surprise, a pout appearing on his swollen lips. “w-why not?”

“your brothers are gonna be back anytime” you told him, cupping his cheeks and giving him a peck. “and we’re in public, matthew”

“don’t call me that” he whined at the name. “you know i like other names better” matt complained, not even thinking about giving up.

“yeah? like good boy?” you teased, ruffling his hair. matt threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his cock twitch.

he quietly nodded, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. “so you’re gonna be my good boy and behave, alright?” you continued as matt dragged his face across your chest.

he looked up at you with puppy eyes, silently asking for at least some attention. “what do you want hm?”

“warm, please” matt practically begged, his voice coming out in a low whisper.

you smiled at matt, adjusting your position on his lap. he gasped when you fully sat on his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardened cock. you began to unbuckle his belt, quickly opening his zipper and revealing the wet patch on his underwear.

“just warm, yeah?” you repeated, touching his waistband, kissing his neck and going down to his collarbone as you pulled his dick out, wrapping your hand around matt’s shaft.

you pumped it a few times, spreading the pre-cum and coating his length. you touched his wrist and guided matt’s fingers to your panties, which he quickly pulled aside before pressing your clit with his thumb, gently rubbing it.

you let out a deep sigh, almost giving in. you lift your hips as you keep on stroking matt’s cock, guiding it towards your wet entrance. you guys were not having sex — he just needed to be warmed, and you just needed to be filled up.

“s-shit” matt mumbles as you rub your folds against his tip, teasing him. “please, i need inside” he complained once more, still pulling your panties to the side and holding your waist.

you gradually lowered yourself on his shaft, mouth hanging open from how big matt was. it seemed like forever until he got all the way in, his incredibly long dick hitting your cervix and stretching your walls open. you wrapped your arms around matt’s shoulders — it was your turn to hide on the crook of his neck.

matt gently caressed your back while placing kisses on your collarbone, an unreasonable amount of thanks coming from the back of his throat. “so tight ‘n so warm…” he said, feeling himself throb against your walls “feels so good”

“i love when you fill me up, prince” you cooed, running your fingers on his brown locks. you let go of the hug to look at him before lifting your shirt and placing your palm against your lower tummy. “you’re right here” you said, pointing to the outline of his dick showing.

matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, unwittingly bucking his hips forward, not being able to hold himself “s-sorry sorry fuck you just look so pretty taking my cock” matt explained, breathing heavily as he wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to bring you even closer. “matt, be a good boy hm?”

“‘m tryin’ i promise but you’re squeezing me so good” he cried, giving you puppy eyes again. you already knew that he we wanted two to cum, but for that, he needed your boobs. matt held you tighter, pouty lips revealing that he needed something to suck on.

you could be mean and give him your fingers, but you could tell he was really trying his best, considering that his cock leaked inside you. you smiled at him and and brought your shirt up, showing him your boobs.

he immediately shoved his face on your chest, moaning before latching on your nipple. he sucked hungrily, slowly moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock. “i d-dont think i can hold it” matt spoke, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your tit.

“and how am i supposed to get back home hm? full of your cum?” you responded and matt whimpered — it was all too much. your breasts, your voice, your hands, your pussy. “can i? please?” he asked.

“you don’t sound that desperate, baby. i think i can keep warming you just like this, right?”

“n-no! please! i wan’ cum for you, please!” you chuckled at his desperation, ruffling his hair and caressing his cheek.

with a simple nod, you allowed matt to let go — and you needed him to do it fast. from afar, you could see his brothers taking slow steps towards the car, silently approaching.

you praised matt as he released his thick spurt inside you, “good boy” whispered over and over along with kisses across his face. matt was completely worn out, panting and trembling.

you removed yourself from him, feeling the sudden emptiness along with the sticky liquid coming from your hole barely being held by your panties as you jumped back to the passenger seat and zipped matt’s pants up.

he had a confused expression, furrowed eyebrow and a pout on his lips, as if asking “why did you leave?”.

his question was answered a second later, when both of his brothers opened the door, entering the vehicle with a loud chatter. “are we interrupting something?” chris playfully asked, noticing the awkwardness between you.

“no, we’re fine! we were just cuddling, matt needed to warmed up” you played along, squeezing matt’s thigh as he gulped and started the car.

little did he know he was gonna have to clean the mess he made.

♡⊹𑄽୧

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim @slutformatthewsturniolo @stefansring @teeheeomg @dystfopia

[bweedable]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ CHRIS STURNIOLO P LIST ୧⋆ ˚｡

Chris doesnt have much patience.

Chris has a breeding Kink.

Chris loves how wet Y/N gets.

Chris loves how submissive she is.

Chris the munch.

Chris loves when she begs him to stop.

He knows just how to make you Feel Good.

In the back of Matts Car.

He LOVES watching your ass bounce on his big dick.

you WERE a cop for halloween ..

the type of videos he wants you to send him.

he loves finger fucking your perfect pussy.

lmk if you want any fics about these!! ;3

[ch0llies]

SWEET BUT PSYCHO | MATTHEW STURNIOLO

oneshot - insane!reader x matt

Your love with Matt Sturniolo isn’t just intense- it’s destructive. You push him until he snaps. He controls you until you break. It’s toxic. It’s addictive. And it’s inevitable. Because neither of you know how to stop. And neither of you want to.

story warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, choking, hair pulling, humiliation (if you squint), toxic relationship (teetering on the edge of abusive), psychical assault (kinda?), and just fucked up. If any of these topics upset you…don’t read!

word count: 7k

“Grab a cop gun kinda crazy, she’s poison but tasty and people say run don’t walk away.”

Everyone knew you were insane. It wasn’t a secret, and you sure as hell didn’t try to hide it. But how you ended up with him….that was the question no one dared to ask.

Matthew Sturniolo, a textbook normal student. He wasn’t the loudest in the room, didn’t have the highest GPA, and never fought for the spotlight. He played lacrosse, kept to himself, and floated through school overlooked by most.

So when you -the girl known for nothing pretty but her face- showed up hand-in-hand with him on the first day of freshman year, it was a cultural reset for everyone and even now, six years later and well into your sophomore year of college, your relationship (if that’s even what you want to call it) still left people questioning.

Because it wasn’t just love. It was war. It was swerving off the road and screaming at each other in parking lots, only to end up tangled together in the backseat minutes later. But the highs… the highs were impossible to leave.

You were toxic together. Everyone saw it. Everyone knew it. You both knew it.

“Tell me you don’t love it,” you taunted, standing in the middle of his dorm room, wearing the smirk that always drove him insane. “Tell me you don’t love this.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides like he was debating whether to grab you or push you away. Maybe both. Probably both.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered, voice tight, low.

You took a step closer, running a slow hand down his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded beneath your palm.

“And yet,” you whispered, tilting your head, “you’re still here.”

His fingers curled into fists, but he didn’t move.

That was the thing about Matthew Sturniolo. He played it safe with everything else in life like his grades, his friends, and his future. But when it came to you?

He threw himself into your fire every time.

Because love wasn’t supposed to feel this dangerous. But with you, it was the only way it ever felt real.

And you knew exactly how far you could push him. How to dig your nails under his skin, tear him open, and make him feel you. Because Matthew Sturniolo didn’t react the way most guys did. He didn’t throw you aside or run for the hills when you lost yourself to your insanity. No, he fought back.

He gritted his teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching, but he didn’t move away. Didn’t tell you to stop.

You laughed, fingers still tracing his chest, voice syrupy sweet. “What’s wrong, baby?” You pouted, mocking. “Cat got your tongue?”

Matt exhaled sharply through his nose. His restraint was slipping. It always did.

It was like the first time in high school, when you showed up at his summer lacrosse practice, perched on the hood of his car in nothing but a bikini with a cigarette between your fingers. You didn’t even smoke, you just wanted to see what he would do.

The moment he spotted you, his entire demeanor darkened. His teammates noticed, too, murmuring about how he was whipped, how you had him wrapped around your little finger.

You’d just smiled when he stormed over.

“Since when do you-”

“Relax, Matty,” you’d purred, flicking the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with your bare heel. “It’s just for show.”

His nostrils flared and eyes widen. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

You grinned, grabbing the collar of his jersey, pulling him closer, right there in the middle of the school parking lot.

“And yet,” you whispered, just like you did now, “you’re still here.”

That was the moment you knew you had him. That no matter how reckless, how insane you became- he’d never walk away.

And low and behold here you were, six years later standing in his dorm room, still playing the same game and waiting for him to say something.

A moment passed before he took your hand off his chest, distancing himself from you. “I’m not fuckin’ doing this with you tonight.” He said lowly but with a firm tone.

“Come on,” you taunted, stepping closer, your eyes gleaming, voice dripping venom. “Where’s that temper, Matty? Huh? Where’s the Matt I know?” You seeth as you raise your hand up to grab his face.

Finally, Matt’s hands shot out, grabbing your wrists mid-lift, his grip tight.

His chest was heaving, his fingers wrapped tight around your wrists, his eyes…fuck, his eyes were dark, stormy, unreadable.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t turned on by his aggression.

“Behave.” he rasped, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine. “Get ready. We’re going out tonight with the group. And you better be on your best fucking behavior.”

Your breathing was erratic. Your wrists flexed under his grip, but he didn’t let go. And you loved it.

Because this was when he was real. When he felt real. When you could see past that quiet, indifferent mask he wore for everyone else and see the parts of you that had seeped into his subconscious after all these years.

But he wasn’t always like that. He didn't use to fight back. You remember the exact moment— the last time he ever just sat there and took it was last year's winter break.

You’d been drinking again, of course. Not even at a party. It was just the two of you, sitting in his car, parked on some abandoned road outside of town, the snow falling in slow, lazy flakes.

You were laughing, drunk and sprawled out in the passenger seat, your head lolling against the window.

Matt wasn’t laughing. He was gripping the steering wheel too tight, staring out at nothing, his expression unreadable.

“You’re so fucking dramatic,” you slurred, rolling your head to look at him.

He exhaled slowly, but it wasn’t a sigh—it was something else. Something tense.

“You don’t know when to stop,” he muttered.

You grinned. “That’s what makes me fun.”

“No, Y/N,” he said, voice clipped. “That’s what makes you exhausting.”

Something inside you twisted, your stomach knotting, your chest tightening in a way that made you angry.

“Then leave,” you snapped, shifting in your seat to glare at him. “If I’m so exhausting, fucking leave.”

Matt clenched his jaw, his grip on the wheel tightening.

You laughed, sharp and cruel. “Oh, right. You can’t.” You tilted your head, mocking. “Because you love me.”

His entire body tensed.

And then, quietly- so quietly you almost didn’t hear it- he whispered, “I know. That’s the problem.”

Your stomach dropped.

Everything in you went still.

For the first time, Matthew Sturniolo had hurt you. Not with his hands, not with his silence, but with his words.

Because for the first time, he had admitted that loving you wasn’t worth it anymore.

And for the first time, you were scared.

So you did what you always did. You fought.

You shoved at his shoulder, you screamed at him, you said the most vicious things you could think of. Things meant to cut, to wound. Because if you were going to hurt, then so was he.

And for the first time, Matt had just taken it.

Didn’t fight back. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even look at you. He just sat there. Quiet. Resigned.

And then he’d whispered, “I can’t do this forever, Y/N.”

That night, he didn’t chase after you when you stumbled out of the car, disappearing into the snow.

After that night in the snow, things changed.

Not in the way they should have. One of you should've walked away and finally let go before you burned each other to the ground. But no, that would’ve been healthy. That would’ve been right. Instead, things only got worse.

You should have known it would happen eventually.

Matt had spent years holding himself back, reining himself in, trying to be the calm to your storm, the balance to your insanity.

But everyone has a breaking point.

And when Matthew Sturniolo finally snapped, he did it in a way that made even you pause.

You’d been in his dorm again, a month after the fight in his car. You were pacing and ranting, your voice sharp and cutting as you threw accusations like knives.

“You were with her again, weren’t you?”

Matt sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. “I wasn’t with anyone, Y/N.”

“Liar.”

He exhaled sharply, his hand raking through his hair.

You didn’t even know why you were mad—he hadn’t done anything. But the way he was acting since that fight made you insane.

“You think you can just sit there and ignore me?” you snapped, stepping closer, standing between his legs, forcing him to look at you. “You think I won’t fucking make you?”

Nothing.

So you shoved his shoulder, your hands shaking with frustration.

“Say something, damn it!”

Still nothing.

“Why do you always do this?!” Your pulse was erratic, your vision narrowing, your breath short and ragged. “Fucking fight me, Matty!”

And then his head snapped up.

His eyes, usually guarded, were blazing. His jaw, usually locked in restraint, twitched with barely contained rage.

You had provoked him to fight you many times before, but he never did. Not until that day.

“You want a fight?” he seethed, voice low and dangerous, stepping forward, grabbing your neck and pushed you hard until your back hit the wall. “Fine you sick bitch. Let’s fucking fight.”

Then he grabbed your wrists, hard, pinning them above your head.

Your breath hitched.

He had never put his hands on you before. Not like this. He had never touched you in a way that was completely and utterly out of anger.

“Is this what you want?” he growled, his breath fanning against your face, his grip so tight it hurt. “You want me to lose control? You want me to be just as fucked up as you?”

You looked up at him, breathless, eyes wild. “Yes.”

Matt let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his grip unfathomably tight. “You’re fucking sick.”

Ever since then, Matt hasn’t held back. He’d never actually hit you. He would never want to hurt you. But he’d put you in your place and wouldn’t be gentle about it.

He should have left. You both should have. But you never did.

Because in between the fights, the destruction, the insanity, there were moments. Sweet moments. Because when it wasn’t war, it was heaven.

Like the time you had shown up at his dorm at three in the morning, your mascara smudged, your hands shaking, your knuckles split from throwing a punch at a girl who had been running her mouth at a party.

You hadn’t even knocked, just pushed the door open and stood there, looking at him like you weren’t sure if you were about to collapse or explode.

Matt had just stared at you for a moment. Then, wordlessly, he had grabbed your hand, his fingers ghosting over your busted knuckles before pulling you inside.

He didn’t lecture you. Didn’t sigh in frustration or tell you to get your shit together.

He just cleaned you up, sat you down on his bed, took out his first-aid kit, and tended to your wounds with the kind of gentle touch that made your throat tighten.

You had watched him, your chest aching in a way that had nothing to do with pain.

“You’re not gonna ask what happened?” you had murmured.

He had shaken his head. “I don’t need to.”

And that was the thing about Matthew Sturniolo.

He never needed an explanation.

He just knew you.

Even when you were at your worst, your lowest, he still took care of you.

That night, he had let you stay, curling up beside you in bed, his arms wrapped tight around you, like he was holding you together.

You saw it in the little things.

The way his eyes softened when he watched you sleep. The way his fingers traced patterns on your back absentmindedly when you lay together, like he needed to be touching you.

The way he knew your favorite drink order without you ever telling him. The way he pulled you closer in his sleep, murmuring your name like a prayer.

The way he kissed your temple, your shoulder, your knuckles—soft, slow, reverent.

Like you weren’t just a storm he had been caught in. Like you were the only thing that had ever made him feel alive.

And to you, he was the same. He was the only person who knew you completely and loved you regardless.

It wasn’t the way he kissed you.Wasn’t the way he fought for you, defended you, ruined himself for you.

It was the way he stayed through everything.

Through the anger, the destruction, the insanity, he stayed.

And one night, after another fight, another round of screaming and pushing and war, you had broken down. Completely.

Sobbing, shaking, fists curled into his hoodie as you gasped out, “Why don’t you leave?”

And he had just held you. Had cupped your face, wiped your tears with his thumbs, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “Because I don’t know how to live without you.”

And that? That was the real problem. Because neither of you knew how to live without the other.

Matt was still breathing heavily, his eyes dark, his fingers twitching like he needed to do something—hit something, grab something, feel something.

And you?

You should have been afraid.

Because he wasn’t the same Matt from high school.

He was just like you now.

But instead of fear, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of right.

Like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Like this was inevitable.

Because for all the destruction, for all the insanity-

There was love, too.

And that was why neither of you ever left.

Because at the end of the day, the chaos didn’t matter. The fights didn’t matter. The bruises, the screaming, the wreckage- none of it mattered.

Not when he looked at you like this.

Not when he still reached for you.

Not when you still let him.

Because love was supposed to be safe.

But with you two?

It never would be.

And neither of you would ever want it any other way.

And that’s why you’re in the bathroom right now, getting ready to go to the bar he told you to get ready for with his hand around your neck.

He barely looks at you when you step out of the bathroom, fixing your hair, smoothing down your shirt.

He’s still frustrated. You can feel it. The tension is there, the tightness in his shoulders, the sharp exhale through his nose as he runs a hand down his face. But he doesn’t say anything.

It’s supposed to be a normal night. Just drinks with friends, something light, something fun-for once.

And yet, you both know better.

Because normal never lasts long with you.

And it didn’t.

The bartender barely glances at Matt when he orders his drink, but when you ask for yours, he stops, leans forward, and gives you a once-over, his lips curling into something that makes your blood boil.

“Got ID?”

You blink, cocking your head. “What?”

The guy shrugs. “You look young.”

It’s not what he says. It’s how he says it. “You didn’t fucking card him?” You say, gesturing to Matt.

The bartender looks over at Matt. “He has tattoos and a beard. I’m not too worried. But you look young. So where’s the fuckin ID? There’s a line so hurry up or don’t have the drink.”

To you it felt like he’s not just checking your age—he’s testing you, like he doesn’t believe you belong here.

And Matt sees it before you even move.

The shift in your stance. The flicker of fire in your eyes. The way your fingers tighten around your glass.

“Y/N, don’t,” he murmurs beside you, already knowing.

But you never listen.

The drink in your hand flies first, splashing across the bartender’s face, dripping down his shirt. “You fucking crazy bitch!”

And that’s when the shove came-hard, sending him stumbling back into the shelves of liquor behind him.

Glasses shatter. Bottles crash to the floor. People gasp, turn, watch.

Matt is on you before you can do anything else. His hands wrap around your arms, yanking you back as the bartender recovers, already yelling, already calling for security.

“You’re out,” the bouncer says, barely giving you both a second to react before he’s waving Matt away, like he’s the handler and you’re the fucking problem.

Matt doesn’t fight him. He just hauls you outside, gripping you so tight you swear you can feel his pulse through his fingertips.

And you fight him too.

“Let me go!” you shriek, thrashing against his hold as he practically drags you down the sidewalk.

“Shut up,” he hisses, his fingers digging harder into your arms. “Do you ever fucking think?” He tugs you further down the street.

“You always do this,” Matt seethes, pacing, fists clenched, his jaw so tight it looks like he’s about to crack his teeth. “You push and push until something fucking breaks. That guy didn’t even do anything to you.”

“You’re really defending him?” you snap, pulling your arm away from him.

Matt exhales roughly, shoving his hands into his pockets, his whole body coiled with frustration. “I’m not defending him. I’m just saying you overreacted.”

You let out a sharp laugh, disbelieving. “Overreacted? He was a fucking asshole, Matt.”

“He asked for your ID.”

“No, he didn’t just ask for my ID. He looked me up and down like I was some high schooler trying to sneak into a club, and then-”

Matt cuts you off, shaking his head. “He was doing his job, Y/N. You’re the one who threw a drink in his face.”

Your hands curl into fists. “He called me a bitch.”

Matt groans loudly before yelling “Because you are one!”

That stops you cold.

Your entire body stills, a slow, sharp wave of silence settling between you.

Matt’s face drops immediately, like he knows that was the wrong thing to say, like he wants to take it back before it even settles in the air between you.

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Baby, I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, you did,” you cut in, voice eerily calm now. Dangerous. “You meant every fucking word.”

Matt sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we not do this here?”

You open your mouth, ready to fire something venomous in return, but then—

A flicker of movement.

A slow-driving car.

Headlights flash across your face, illuminating both of you. A cop.

He’s patrolling the block, watching from a distance. Not interfering yet, but watching.

Matt sees him too. His shoulders square, his fingers twitch at his sides.

He knows where this is heading.

“You’re making a scene,” he mutters, voice lower now. A warning.

“So?” You tilt your head. “You embarrassed?”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he growls, turning and stepping away, dragging both hands down his face like he’s physically stopping himself from making this worse.

That pisses you off.

You grab his hoodie, yanking him back toward you. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me.”

Matt whirls around, his jaw clenched. “Or what?” His voice rises, raw and frustrated. “What the fuck are you gonna do, huh?”

Your chest is heaving, your pulse pounding in your ears. “You don’t get to fucking leave me!”

Matt lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I don’t get to? Jesus, Y/N, you’re insane.”

And then—

Before you can stop yourself.

Before you can think.

Your hand flies.

The slap cracks through the street, sharp and brutal.

Matt stumbles back a step, his hands flying up instinctively, his shock evident in the split second before his expression darkens.

That is when the cop steps out of the car.

“Hey!”

His voice is firm, authoritative, his hand already resting on his belt as he approaches. “What’s going on here?”

Matt immediately recovers, lifting his hands, shaking his head. “Nothing, officer. We’re just—”

“You were yelling then she slapped you,” the cop interrupts, eyes flicking between the two of you, assessing.

Matt exhales hard, pressing his fingers to his temples. “It’s fine.”

You were still vibrating with adrenaline, with recklessness, with the need to prove a fucking point.

So when the cop steps closer, when he rests his hand a little too close to the gun in his holster-

Your eyes flick to it.

And before you can even process the thought, you move.

Your fingers grab the handle.

Not enough to pull.

Not enough to do anything.

But enough to be a mistake.

The cop doesn’t notice.

But Matt does.

And he fucking loses it.

“Y/N!”

He yanks you back so hard you slam into his chest, his arm locking around you tight.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” he roars, his voice so loud it drowns out the entire street.

The cop’s hand twitches toward his radio. “If you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to take you both to the station.”

“No! We’re fine, I promise.” Matt grips you tighter, shoving you behind him, his body a wall between you and the cop. “She’s just drunk.”

The cop hesitates. Scans Matt’s face. Looks for the lie.

Then, by some fucking miracle, he lets it go.

And when he drives off, when the flashing lights disappear down the street—

Matt turns to you, grabs your face in both hands, his fingers digging into your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands, his voice shaking.

You just grin, sharp and reckless.

Matt doesn’t say a word as he grabs your wrist and hauls you down the street, his grip iron-tight, his entire body vibrating with barely contained rage.

“Matt—”

“Shut up.” His voice is low, rough, a dangerous edge slicing through every syllable.

You barely keep up as he drags you toward campus, his pace relentless, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s afraid you’ll try to run.

Not that you would.

You love this.

The way he’s unraveling. The way his control is snapping thread by thread.

By the time he shoves open the door to his dorm, the tension is suffocating.

And when he throws you inside, slamming the door shut behind him, you know you’ve fucking won.

Matt just stood across from you, fists clenched, his breathing ragged, his jaw so tight you could see the sharp cut of his features, almost like he was about to lose his fucking mind.

But now, staring at him, at the storm brewing behind his light eyes, you realized something.

He had already lost it.

“You don’t fucking think,” he finally muttered, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.

You scoffed. “Here we fucking go.”

Matt’s eyes snapped to yours, furious. “You could have gotten arrested. You could have gotten shot, Y/N. Do you fucking understand that?*”

You rolled your eyes, taking a step closer, throwing your hands up. “Oh, please, I barely even touched the—”

Matt moved so fast you barely had time to react.

One second, you were standing there, and the next, he was in your face, his hand wrapping around your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he seethed, his fingers pressing into your skin. “This isn’t just another game, Y/N. That was stupid and you were acting like an attention whore.”

“I fucking hate you,” you whispered, your nails curling into the sleeves of his hoodie, your entire body thrumming with adrenaline.

Matt let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his fingers tightening around your jaw. “No, you don’t.”

Suddenly, his hands weren’t shoving you away- they were grabbing you, holding you in place, his breath hot against your face, his grip so tight around your neck it ached.

And god, some sick part of you felt relieved. Turned on, even.

So you reached down towards his crotch and slowly started to palm it, feeling his dick stir slightly.

Matt’s eyes flew down to where you touched him through his jeans and then back up at your face.

“God, are you seriously turned on right now?” he rasped, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine. “You’re sick in the fucking head. I’m not even surprised.”

Your breathing was erratic despite the restriction.

And you loved it.

“And yet,” you choked out, lips curling into something close to a smirk as you ran your fingernails so very gently over his semi hard dick. “you can’t stop, can you?”

Matt’s chest heaved, his eyes flickering with something dark, something desperate. “Shut the fuck up.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing the corner of his jaw, taunting. “Make me.”

And that? That was what finally fucking broke him.

His grip on your neck tightened, sure to bruise, as he pushed you back, your spine colliding against the wall, the breath knocked from your lungs. He took his hands off your neck, knocked your hand away from his crotch, and pinned your wrists against the wall.

But you didn’t stop him. You didn’t want to stop him. Because this wasn’t just anger. It was possession.

“You ruin everything,” Matt muttered, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath sharp, his fingers flexing around your wrists like he was still debating whether to shove you away or pull you closer.

“So fucking ruin me,” you taunted .

Matt dropped your wrists and yanked the collar of your hoodie, pulling you off the wall again and into him, his nose practically touching yours as his breathing came hard and fast.

Only a moment of eye contact passed before his mouth crashed against yours. And it was game over.

There was no hesitation, no doubt, no careful testing of boundaries—because there were none. There never had been. Not between you and Matt.

His hands were rough, grabbing your wrists so tight around your skin that you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

You gasped into the kiss, but Matt didn’t give you a second to catch your breath. His tongue slid against yours, hot and desperate, demanding, like he was trying to claim you, ruin you, tear you apart from the inside out.

And maybe he was.

His teeth bit into your bottom lip, sharp enough to sting, and you whimpered, but not from pain—from need.

That sound must have done something to him because his grip on your wrists tightened even more, his body pressing flush against yours, completely trapping you between the wall and the overwhelming heat of him.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he growled against your lips, his voice so low and raw it sent a shiver down your spine.

Good,” you taunt, arching up against him, your breath ragged, daring him. “Maybe now you finally fucking get me.”

Matt laughs lowly, his hands already moving, already gripping, already taking. “I will never get you.”

Before you can snap back, before you can push him further, he moves.

His hands are grabbing the hem of your shirt, yanking it up and over your head in one swift motion before tossing it somewhere behind him.

“Off,” he orders, his fingers already undoing the button of your jeans, forcing them down along with your underwear, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you fucking bare for me.”

Your pulse hammers, your body on fire under his touch, but Matt doesn’t give you time to process and he absolutely doesn’t ask again.

His hands slide under the fabric, gripping, pulling, stripping you down piece by piece.

And then he pulls back just slightly, just enough to look at your completely naked body, his eyes burning, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling hard.

“So perfect,” he mutters, mostly to himself, his fingers trailing over newly exposed skin.

But you don’t want him just looking.

With a sharp breath, you reach for him, your hands tugging at the fabric of his hoodie, trying to rip it off, but Matt grabs your wrists mid-motion, holding them down.

“You don’t get to fucking touch me until I say so,” he growls, his grip tight, his breath shaky with restraint.

You let out a frustrated sound, your body burning, but Matt just smirks before finally letting go, grabbing the back of his hoodie and ripping it off.

Your breath catches as he strips off the rest of his own clothes, leaving him completely naked.

And then he’s on you again, his body pressing hard against yours, his hands grabbing your thighs as he threw you onto the bed. You let out a sharp gasp as your back hit the mattress, barely able to process before he was on you, his weight pinning you down, his fingers wrapping around your throat.

And fuck, the pressure- It wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t teasing. It was dominance, raw and unfiltered, his grip so firm that it sent a rush of dizzying heat straight through your body.

Your hands flew up to grab his wrist, but not to stop him—to encourage him.

His grip tightened.

“Breathe for me,” he murmured, his other hand playing with and dragging over your peaked nipples. “Come on, let’s hear that big fucking mouth.”

Your head spun, vision tunneling slightly, your pulse thudding in your ears.

“Matt- ” your voice came out strangled, and the second he saw that dazed, needy look in your eyes, he grinned.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, leaning down, his lips brushing against your ear.

You couldn’t even answer- not with his hand cutting off your airflow, your entire body thrumming with fire.

But he knew.

He could see it.

And fuck, he loved it too.

His grip eased just enough to let you drag in one desperate breath, your nails digging into his arms.

And then he kisses you again before you could even catch your breath.

Because this wasn’t just about winning anymore.

It was about ruining each other completely.

And neither of you would ever stop.

His lips were everywhere, dragging over your jaw, down the column of your throat, over both your nipples, biting at the skin just beneath your ear, sharp enough to make you gasp.

Matt’s hand was still wrapped around your throat, keeping you pinned, keeping you helpless beneath him, but you wanted it. Needed it.

“You love this,” he muttered against your skin, his breath hot, his voice dripping with something almost mocking. “You love pushing me until I fucking snap, huh?”

You grinned, pushing yourself up to grind on his lower abdomen that was laying between your legs. “Why don’t you fuck me till I snap then.”

His eyes darkened, his grip tightening for just a second—just long enough to make your vision blur at the edges, make your body thrill from the sensation—before he let go completely, shoving your wrists down into the mattress instead.

“Fuck you?” Matt growled, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you down as his mouth crashed onto yours again.

The kiss was bruising—teeth clashing, tongues sliding, so fucking desperate it almost felt violent.

Your body arched, thighs reaching around and tightening around his waist, trying to pull him closer, take even more of him, but Matt wasn’t giving you any control.

“No,” he muttered, shoving your hands harder into the mattress, dragging his teeth over your lip as he pulled back. “You don’t get to fucking take right now. You’re gonna take what I give you.”

The words shot straight through you, sending a pulse of heat down your spine, making you wrap your thighs tightly around his waist and arch your back up, desperate to make contact.

But he didn’t move, even after feeling your wet cunt slide up the underside of his throbbing cock. Didn’t give you anything until you begged for it.

“Matt-”

“Say it,” he murmured, dragging his lips down your jaw, over the marks he had already left there. “Say you fucking need me.”

You let out a ragged breath, your entire body thrumming, still rocking against the underside of his erection. “I fucking hate you.”

Matt laughs. “No, you don’t.”

And then he flips you over. Roughly.

Your breath hitches as your stomach hits the mattress, your pulse hammering as his hands yank your hips back against him and you feel his cock between your thighs.

“This what you wanted?” he mutters, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck, his fingers digging into your waist. “Wanted me to fucking break for you?”

“You already did,” you shoot back, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes.

Matt’s fingers flex, his grip tight—like he wants to control you, like he needs to, like he’s not just holding you down, he’s claiming you.

“Yeah?” he rasps, leaning in, dragging his teeth over your shoulder, biting down just hard enough to make you shudder. “Then let’s see how bad I can get.”

His hand moves before you can react—sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing you deeper into the mattress, pinning you there.

With your ass in the air and your back arched, his tip makes contact with your clit and you let out a whimper, attempting to sit up.

“Stay the fuck down,” he orders, shoving you back. “You want to be a fucking problem all the time? Deal with the consequences.”

You whimper again, your fingers gripping the sheets, but Matt doesn’t give you a second to process before his hand wraps around your throat from behind, tilting your head back just enough for his breath to skim over your ear.

“This is what you wanted, right?” His grip tightens for a split second- just enough to make your vision blur at the edges, to make your heart race so fast you swear he can feel it beneath his palm.

“Yes,” you gasp, voice breathy, strained, desperate.

Matt groans, his fingers digging into your skin, owning every inch of you. “So quit whining and take it like the good girl I know you can be for me.”

Your breath catches, your entire body thrumming with anticipation, but Matt—Matt is in no fucking rush. No, he’s taunting you.

He knows how bad you want it. Knows how wrecked you are beneath him. Knows that with every passing second, you’re finally the one breaking further under his touch.

And he’s loving every second of it.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low, mocking, his fingers trailing over your hip, skimming the places you need him the most but refusing to give in just yet. “You act like you run this shit, but right now? You’re fucking helpless for me.”

Your fingers grip the sheets, your body arching, a whimper slipping from your lips again and Matt just grins.

“So fucking desperate,” he mutters, his teeth grazing your pulse, his hands spreading your thighs wider, his touch possessive, commanding. “You need me to take care of you that bad, huh?”

You nod, too breathless to speak, but Matt tuts, his fingers tightening on your hips. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes,” you rasp, your nails biting into his arms. “Please, Matt-”

“That’s better,” he murmurs, his tone dark, dangerous, sending a sharp thrill through your spine.

With a single deliberate shift of his hips, he pushes his tip inside your soaked hole. But it was a slow, tormenting press forward- just enough to make you feel it, just enough to have your entire body tensing, your breath hitching in a sharp gasp but not enough to satisfy you.

“Fuck,” Matt groans, his head dropping, his fingers digging into your love handles like he’s trying to anchor himself. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your hands fly to his hips and ass behind you, trying to push him further into you, but Matt grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back again.

He breathes heavy behind you, his lips brushing against your ear. “You take what I fucking give you, remember?”

Your breath stutters, your entire body shaking beneath him. “Matt, please—”

“Fucking pathetic,” he mutters, his grip tightening, his tone laced with something cruel, something twistedly affectionate. “But you beg so fucking pretty for me.”

With one sharp, forceful movement, he fills you completely, pushing deep, claiming you in every way imaginable.

A strangled, shattered sound rips from your throat, your fingers clawing at his hands holding them, your entire body arching beneath him.

Matt groans lowly and the sound has you clenching around him already. “Fuuuckk, don’t do that,” he moans.

You simply smirk, trying to regain some control by clenching around him again and starting to move your hips back and forth on him.

The second he realizes that he’s subconsciously submitting to you, even with your hands pinned beneath him, he snaps back into reality.

Matt then manhandles you like you weigh nothing, shifting his grip, releasing your hands from behind your back and dragging his up and down your body.

Your breath stutters, your body thrumming with anticipation, every nerve on fire from the way he’s handling you.

But he still hasn’t moved yet.

“Matt-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he cuts you off, gripping your jaw, forcing you to turn your head to the side, to look at him. His eyes are wild, dark, unhinged. “You don’t get to fucking speak until I tell you to.”

Your lips part, a sharp inhale dragging through your lungs, your entire body burning from his words, his grip, his control.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” he mutters and smirks because he knows.

He knows you’re gone.

He knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“See?” he mutters, gripping your jaw tighter, tilting your head back even more, making sure you feel his control. “You act so fucking tough, but all it takes is me putting you in your fucking place, and you’re already breaking for me.”

You let out a strangled noise, half a gasp, half a moan, but he just chuckles, low and cruel.

“You love this,” he continues, dragging his teeth over the shell of your ear and dropping his hand to your neck, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Love when I’m rough with you. Love when I don’t let you fucking breathe until I say so.”

His grip tightens on your throat for emphasis, cutting off just enough airflow to make your vision blur, to make your entire body thrill from the overwhelming sensation.

He watches the way your body trembles beneath him. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re powerless.”

Your nails dig into the sheets, your breath stuttering, your thighs shaking beneath his grip.

“Matt, please-”

“I didn’t fucking tell you to talk,” he growls, his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking it back, forcing your head to tilt, baring your throat to him.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips, your body arching, completely surrendering to his control.

Matt leans down again, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, dragging his tongue over the bruises he’s already left behind, making sure you feel every inch of his possession.

“You look so pretty when you’re powerless,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low, mocking, dangerous. “I should keep you like this all the fucking time.”*

Then, finally, he pulls out and with a sharp, forceful roll of his hips, he pushes himself back in. Your entire body shudders, your fingers clawing at the sheets.

“Fucking hell,” Matt groans, his grip on your neck dropping to your waist, his other hand tight in your hair, controlling every bit of your movement. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You let out a pornographic moan, your thighs trembling already. your breath was coming in sharp gasps, and Matt just laughs at you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, picking up his pace, his movements hard, deep, and so unrelenting. “I’ve barely even started.”

Your hands reach back for him, trying to grip something, trying to ground yourself, but Matt smacks them away. “No,” he breathes against your ear. “You don’t get to touch me until I say so.”

You whimper, your body burning, the desperation so overwhelming it’s almost unbearable. “Matt, please-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, slamming his hips into you harder, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as you nearly poke a hole through the sheets with your nail from grabbing them so hard. “Take what I fucking give you.”

Your mind is spinning, your body completely wrecked, the pressure already building in your core with every sharp, relentless movement.

“Keep sucking me in like that baby- fuck.” Matt mutters, dragging his lips down your spine as he keeps pushing into you, his hands gripping your hips so tight you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.

Your body shudders at his words, at the way he’s handling you, at the way he controls every inch of you like he owns it. Your fingers are trembling as they grip the sheets, your breath ragged, your mind and body so fucked out from how deep he’s pushing into you that you can barely process anything else.

But Matt is hasn’t faltered. Not even slightly. His pace is punishing, his rhythm sharp, precise, every movement designed to break you down, to make sure you feel everything, to make sure you remember who’s in control here.

“You’re so quiet now,” he taunts, voice dark, mocking, his fingers trailing down your spine, pressing into the curve of your back, forcing you deeper into the mattress. “Where’s all that fucking attitude, huh?”

You whimper, your thighs shaking beneath his grip, and Matt grins, knowing. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

His hand snakes up into your hair again, yanking your head back just enough to make you gasp, to make your entire body arch beneath him.

His hips snapping against yours with perfect precision and your breath catches, the pleasure building, your body screaming for release, but Matt just laughs.

“You’re not fucking coming yet,” he mutters, shoving your head into the mattress. “Not until I fucking say so.”

You whimper, completely wrecked, completely his, and Matt knows it.

He groans, his rhythm stuttering just slightly, his fingers digging into your hips as his own pleasure builds. “You wanted me to ruin you? Then fucking break for me.”

You moan, your breath ragged, your entire body trembling from the intensity of it all. You can barely think, barely breathe, barely hold on as Matts ruts into you, his movements rough, dominant, and utterly consuming.

“I can feel you- fuck. I can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart.” he growls and his voice is slightly whinny. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

He hits the perfect spot, over and over, until your entire body shatters. Your back arches, your nails dig into the sheets, a strangled, wrecked moan ripping from your throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, so overwhelming it’s blinding, so intense it leaves you breathless.

“Fuuuuucccckkk” Matt moans, his voice raspy and his body starts shaking behind as he loses it right after you.

Matt’s head drops onto your shoulder, his breath ragged, his entire body tensing as he finally lets go, pleasure ripping through him in sharp, uncontrollable pulses. His grip on your hips is bruising, his fingers digging in as he twitches inside you, his body shaking behind you.

A strangled whimper leaves his lips as the aftershocks hit him, his muscles tensing, his rhythm faltering, his body jerking slightly from the overstimulation. “Fuck,” he mutters, his voice wrecked, shaky, his forehead pressing into the curve of your neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You can feel the way he’s struggling- the way his body trembles, how his fingers clench involuntarily against your waist, like he’s trying to hold onto something solid as the sensation wrecks him.

“Matt-” you breathe, but before you can say anything else, he lets out a low, pained groan and pulls out, his body jerking at the loss of contact.

He collapses beside you, his eyes are half-lidded, his hair messy, his lips still parted from breathless gasps.

For a moment, neither of you say anything—just the sound of heavy breathing filling the room, your bodies still entwined, his hands still possessive on your skin, his lips still brushing against your shoulder.

And then, after a long, heavy pause Matt laughs.

Low, dark, satisfied.

And you?

You just grin, breathless, wrecked, completely ruined-

Because finally, finally, Matt Sturniolo is just as fucked up as you.

for my beloved: @mattsobvimyfav 💙

[delilahsturniolo]

! ! sweetheart!matt visiting barista!reader at her coffee shop

the coffee shop was as vibrant as ever, the smell of coffee beans and vanilla syrup filled the air. you hummed a soft tune as you mixed a customer’s drink. once you were finished, you stuck the order label onto the cup and covered the drink. you smiled sweetly at the young lady who thanked you as you handed her order to her.

you loved your job more than anything in the world. you got to meet new people and make many friends, and pursue something you truly loved at the same time. you wiped the counter where all the coffee and espresso machines were set up, while your co-workers helped take and make orders. it was peaceful to be in this environment.

just then, you heard a familiar speak. “hey, i’m lookin’ for a very pretty girl, wearing a brown apron, forgot her name though..” your eyes immediately lit up, turning around and seeing matt standing behind the counter, waiting at your cash register with flowers and chocolate in his hands.

“matt!” you squealed, not too loudly though. matt smiled as you leaned over the other side of the counter to give him a quick kiss. you took the flowers and chocolate, setting them aside for now. you adjusted your apron and your visor.

“what’re you doing here?” you asked, your smile only growing more vibrant the more you looked into his loving blue eyes. “jus’ wanted to see my favorite girl. we finished filming a little while ago, so i thought i’d stop by for a drink.” matt spoke sweetly, propping his elbows against the counter and looking up at the menu.

“what can i get ya?” you asked him. matt hummed for a minute before he decided. “i’ll get a hot chocolate. and maybe a boyfriend discount too?” matt winked at you, making you giggle. “matt, it’s three dollars.” you said. matt shrugged, laughing as well. “but, i suppose i could make an exception.” you said. matt shook his head. “i’m kidding baby, here.” matt handed you three dollar bills. you put them in the cash register.

“one hot chocolate coming up, sir!” you saluted, making matt smile at you warmly. you easily made his drink, you stuck the label onto his cup and kissed it, your pink lipgloss making a mark. you handed matt his drink. “made with love.” you said as matt sipped his drink. he gently leaned over and kissed your cheek. “thank you, sweetheart. i’ll see you later okay?” matt told you. you nodded and watched as he walked out of the coffee shop, you missed him already.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

[vickytaa]

And this?

"We should hide it better next time."

_______________________________________

"CHRISTOPHER OWEN STURNIOLO WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" Nick screamed while getting upstairs to the living room, where Chris and you were.

Both of you exchanged a confused look. "What is he talking about?" Chris asked. You quickly raised your hands, not knowing what made Nick so angry.

As Nick's figure comes into frame, Chris's and Your's jaw literally drops. Both faces were white.

Nick was holding a piece of paper, nothing special, right?

Wrong.

It was your "Fuck places" list of yours and chris.

"What the fuck is this? Why is kitchen, bedroom, beach and more places with a tick?" He asked. Oh god he didn't notice.

"That's uh... our..." Chris began to explain, but any word came out of his mouth. He lightly hit your arm, trying to get help.

"Places were we've been together!" Came out before even thinking of how stupid that answer was. Nick was getting more confused, not truly believing you.

He started to read again. It was a simple list:

Chris and Y/n :

- Starbucks's Bathroom ✓

- Hot tub ✓

- Lift ✓

- Matt's car ✓

- Library ✓

- Forest ✓

- Church ✓

And that thing was loong, it seemed endless.

"Yeah, right..." Nick said, obviously not believing anything you've said, I mean, who you think was believing that?

"Hey, what's all the fuss about?" Matt said, entering the room. This couldn't get worse. "These two over here have something to explain to us," Nick said, borrowing the paper to Matt.

"No, Nick, why does everyone have to know?" You whined. Matt completely ignored you, grabbed it, and started reading it. His eyes were wide open.

"MY CAR?" He asked. He didn't even have to ask us what the list was about. It was obvious.

Nick and Matt started to explain how gross and disgusting this was, but you and chris weren't listening at all.

"We have to be more careful about it..." You said, a bit embarrassed to be exposed. "Yeah... but well, we said we had to finish it by the end of November..." Chris said, a teasing smirk on his face.

You giggled, and your cheeks were burning.

"Yeah... tomorrow photo booth?"

_______________________________________

a/n: short, but I wanted to post something so yes

Love yall:))

[y3sterdaysproblem]

greedy - m.s + c.s

summary: two is always better than one

warnings: filth.

wc: 8k

inspired by these two asks

dividers by @issysh3ll

This was your absolute favorite place to be.

Eyes closed, cheek pressed into the pillow that your arms were wrapped around, slender fingers gently holding your waist in place as your boyfriend languidly thrust into you from behind, the sound of both of your moans filling his room.

You loved sex with your boyfriend. It was always satisfying and you always ended up happy, feeling loved and overall satiated.

But there was a small part of you, maybe bigger than you’d care to admit, that wished sometimes he would just get a little bit rougher with you. It was always gentle and tender sex, and you loved it, but sometimes you just needed to be manhandled a little bit. That part of you buried deep inside was slowly crawling towards the surface, begging to be satisfied some time soon or you might freak out.

“Faster,” you groan out, hands gripping your pillow roughly as the slow thrusts inside you felt like a teasing drag, the foreplay before getting your brains fucked out. Though it wasn’t foreplay, it was the main event, and today you needed more.

Your boyfriend obliged, picking up his pace slightly, hands gripping your hips harsher to keep up with his thrusts, pulling you back into him as the sound of your bodies slapping together increased.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Fuck,” you mumble, pulling your hips forward so his dick slips out of you, quickly turning around to face him. “Sit.” You demand, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him towards the headboard. He agreed, like the good boy he is, sitting against the headboard and staring up at you with wide, confused eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked you sweetly, reaching out for your body as you moved to straddle him, knees on either side of him now.

You grabbed his dick and lined it up with your entrance, dropping down until he filled you up again, the change in angle making you moan out breathily. “Yes, I’m okay. Just need more,” you tell him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you start to bounce yourself on his cock, whining softly at the feeling of him inside of you finally pleasing you in the way you desperately needed, setting the faster pace you desired so badly.

You throw your head back as you moaned loudly, feelings his hands just rubbing over your thighs, your hips, your waist, not even getting close to your tits. It’s not like that specifically helped you get off, but he was so nervous to push your boundaries that he just kept his hands in his so called safe zones, helping you bounce on top of him.

You were so close, and the sounds coming out of your mouth indicated that, but it wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend buried deep inside of you pressing up everywhere you needed him was not going to send you over the edge. You needed more.

You pull your eyes back to his blue ones staring back at you, glazed over in ecstasy, reaching down to grab one of his hands. “Choke me,” you tell him, pulling his hand up to your throat.

“What?” He chokes out, eyes widening at your words. “Choke you? I can’t-,”

“Please,” you beg him, using your own hand to wrap his fingers around your neck, encouraging him to squeeze. “I need it.”

He tentatively started squeezing his fingers together, the lack of oxygen sending you over the edge, hips getting sloppy as your orgasm washed over you, your hands resting on his shoulders as you came, loud moans leaving your lips.

“Fuck, Chris,” you choke out, gasping when the hand falls off of your throat, ripping your eyes open to stare at your boyfriend in shock, jaw dropped.

Shit.

“What did you just say?” Matt questions, grabbing your hips to throw you off of him, shocked expression clear on his face. “Chris?!”

You stared at him, heart racing, not knowing how on earth you’d get yourself out of this one. “I… um…” you break eye contact, looking around the room at anything but your boyfriend.

“Did you just cum to the thought of my fucking brother?!” Matt screeches, standing up off the bed to collect his clothes.

“I meant to say Matt!” You defend yourself, crawling off the bed after him. “Come on, I mix up your names all the time, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Matt scoffs, pulling his boxers on quickly. “Never in bed, though. God, I can’t fucking believe you, you’re sick in the head.”

You grab a shirt off of the floor and throw it on, grateful it comes down to mid thigh. “Matt, I didn’t fucking mean anything by it,” you tell him, grabbing his bicep, but you don’t even sound convincing to your own ears, let alone his.

“Yeah, right. You didn’t mean anything by saying my brother’s name while you’re literally on my dick.” Matt turned to glare at you, eyes filled with an expression you’ve never seen before. You hated yourself for finding it so sexy.

“Matt,” you whine, both of you facing each other now. “I didn’t mean it, you’re looking way too deep into this.”

Matt huffs, pulling his shirt over his head more aggressively than normal. “Whatever. Go fuck Chris about it.”

You couldn’t help it. You really couldn’t help it. Your expression lit up for a very split second, excitement clear in your face, before you wiped it away as quickly as it appeared. Matt noticed, though. He noticed everything.

“Oh my fucking god, you actually want to fuck Chris!” He accused loudly, looking at you in disgust. “I can’t fucking believe you, am I seriously not enough?”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration before pulling it back up, staring at your boyfriend who glared back at you, his cheeks turning red from yelling. “Can you blame me?!” You screech, hands splayed out in front of you dramatically. “You’re hot, he’s hot, but he’s just… he’s got that oomph that I need in bed. It’s purely sexual, Matt. I’ve heard about how he is in bed and I can’t help but think about him fucking the daylights out of me and I’m sorry but it’s just a fantasy! I’d never cheat on you with your own brother, you have to know that.”

Matt rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, mumbling obscenities under his breath. “You’re fucking ridiculous, I can’t even process this. I’m going out.” He tells you, turning to leave his bedroom and eventually the house, leaving you standing there in shock.

After a few moments you grab your underwear off the floor and slide them on before leaving his bedroom and going to the kitchen to grab yourself a drink, swearing to yourself when you see Chris leaning against the counter, smirking when his eyes meet yours.

“What’re you guys yelling about in there?” He asks smugly, taking a sip out of the can in his hand.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you reply sassily, ripping the fridge door open. You grab your own drink and crack it open, turning your body to face the boy whose eyes never left your figure, trailing over your bare legs and the swell of your ass underneath the t-shirt.

Chris hums to himself, setting his can down on the counter before resting both of his hands on the cold marble on either side of him. “I think I have an idea. Luckily for me you’re really loud when you’re flustered so I didn’t even have to eavesdrop that hard.”

Your cheeks flush, knowing now that he more than likely heard everything you said and knew the subject of yours and Matt’s argument and the reason he stormed off. It didn’t scare you, though. If anything it made you feel a small rush of excitement at the thought of Chris knowing that you wanted him.

“Kinda fucked up, don’t you think?” Chris asks, pushing himself away from the counter and towards you. “Saying someone else’s name in bed? Your boyfriend’s brother? That’s sick.” He’s right in front of you now and you’re glued to the ground, eyes locked on his as he got closer and closer.

“I didn’t mean it,” you tell him quietly, knowing he wouldn’t believe you.

Chris laughs, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze intimidating enough to make your heart speed up, not knowing what to expect out of him. “Sure you didn’t. I heard you. You fantasize about me. You think about what it would be like if it was me fucking you instead of Matt.” His hand slides down to the side of your neck, holding it there before he moves it to the front, fingers ghosting over your throat, making your breath catch. “I bet you’d let me take you right here in the kitchen, wouldn’t you? Like the little slut you are.” He emphasized his words with a squeeze and you whined.

“No,” you tell him, eyes boring up into his. “I wouldn’t. Not without Matt’s approval.”

It was true. As bad as you wanted Chris, needed him, you would never do it without your boyfriend’s consent, which you understood was a huge stretch and probably would never happen, and now Chris was just making this extra hard on you to push past.

Chris smiled down at you, his free hand reaching down and under the hem of your shirt, fingertips trailing on the band of your underwear. “What if I told you he already gave me permission?”

You swallow, which proved a little difficult considering the hand around your throat, wide, excited eyes peering up at Chris, meeting his sadistic gaze as he held you close, the heat from his body so near sending tingles down your spine. “I wouldn’t believe you. I-I’d wait for him to tell me.”

Chris smirks and drops his hand from your neck, sliding it down over your chest, fingers ghosting over your hardened nipple under the shirt you wore. “A loyal little slut,” he hums, taking a step away from you.

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relaxing your shoulders as distance was created. “‘M not a slut just because I like rough sex.” You tell him in a slightly pouty voice, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chris laughs loudly, pushing himself to sit on top of the counter. “No, you’re a slut because you want to fuck your boyfriend’s identical brother. I bet you’d try to fuck Nick, too if he wasn’t gay.”

Your jaw drops, clearly offended. “I would not!” You squeak in denial. “I don’t even really want to fuck you, I just… I just want to be fucked in a way that satisfies the dirty, dirty parts of me I hide far away in the back of mind.”

Chris smiles, spreading his legs slightly. You can’t help your gaze dropping to the clear bulge in his grey sweatpants, begging for your touch. “Yeah, and you know exactly who can satisfy that part of you.”

You sigh, turning your body away from him and moving towards the table, sitting down in the chair and staring off into their living room, mind racing. It was true, you knew Chris would be able to satisfy you in a way you’ve never had before. You’ve heard him talk about his sex life and it was exactly what you needed, what you craved. The only obstacle was your boyfriend, his brother. There was no way he would let you sleep with Chris. Not only was he possessive but he was so sweet, so tender. He was always so afraid of hurting you in bed or being too rough that he just kept it to what he knew, which was slow, love making intimacy. You loved it, too, but once in a while you just needed to be railed until you cried.

You were startled out of your thoughts by a pair of hands landing on your shoulders, thumbs digging in to try and relieve some obvious tension. “You’re not going to be able to resist me forever,” Chris tells you lowly, leaning down so his lips are next to your ear. You gasp, staying completely still as his hands trail down over your collarbones until they’re resting on each one of your breasts, massaging lightly. “I can’t resist you either. I’ve wanted you for so long, gotten off to the thought of you so many times. Thought about how good you’d be at taking my dick. I bet you’d take it like a fucking champ, wouldn’t you?” His right hand continues moving down until it’s right above your barely covered core and you knew it was terrible, really you did, but you couldn’t help your legs spreading open on the chair, allowing for his fingers to dip further. He wasted no time in slipping them into your panties, a whine leaving your lips as they slid through your still wet folds. He places his lips on your neck, moaning quietly at how wet you were, having to hold himself back from throwing you on the table and fucking you for anyone to see. “You’d be so good for me, hm? Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted until all you can say is my name.”

Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist in front of you when you feel his two middle fingers dip inside of you, a whiny moan leaving your lips as your head fell back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut. “Chris,” you whimper breathily, back arching into his fingers.

“This doesn’t look like waiting for permission to me,” Chris remarks smugly, and all you can do is breathe out another moan as his fingers curl inside you, knowing exactly how to touch you and where you need him.

The moment is ripped apart by the sound of the front door opening. Your head shoots up quickly and Chris pulls his hand from your underwear in no hurry, moving to stand next to you now. Your eyes look up at him worriedly, but he only smirks down at you and slips his fingers past his lips, groaning as he sucks your arousal off of them, getting his first taste of you, knowing he would need more.

He drops his hand from his mouth and wipes his saliva off on his pants when Matt comes into view, gaze landing on the two of you existing far too close for his comfort now that he knows what he knows.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, clearly annoyed. “You want to fuck her, too, don’t you?”

Chris shrugs at his brother, lips curling up slowly. “Wouldn’t be mad about it.”

-

Matt was quiet for days, even when you’d come over he barely spoke to you, only grumbling replies to you as you rambled on about whatever nonsense flooded your brain that day. He couldn’t stop thinking about your slip up and how he walked in on you and his brother in the kitchen, tension so palpable he could almost taste it. Every time he ran into Chris in his own house his heart would race, unable to stop himself from thinking about what he now knew. You wanted to fuck Chris, and Chris wanted to fuck you. Chris didn’t hide it anymore either. Whenever you came over he would let his gaze wander, no matter what you wore. Jeans, sweatpants, leggings, he always soaked in your appearance before meeting your eyes and sending a smirk your way, letting you know he was still thinking about you.

It was so filthy and wrong and you loved it, even if you told yourself you didn’t.

You and Matt hadn’t had sex since that day, and you didn’t blame him. You’re sure it would take a while for him to get over it, but you were starting to get antsy. You loved sex and you loved having a boyfriend that you could have sex with whenever you want, so now that he was withholding from you despite you laying in his bed cuddled up and watching movies, it only made your desire grow stronger.

“Matt,” you speak quietly, turning your head from where it rested on his shoulder to look up at his face.

“Hm?” Is all he replies, keeping his eyes trained on the television in front of you both.

You slide your hand over his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans, dipping lower to palm him through the fabric. “I’m horny,” you whine.

Matt grabs your hand and brings it back up to his stomach, resting it there. “I’m not.” He responds bluntly, still not looking your way.

You huff. “Are you going to punish me forever? It was an accident, Matt, I love having sex with you, I need it.”

Matt finally turns his head to face you, eyes locking on yours. “It may have been an accident but you meant it. Forgive me for not liking the fact that you moaned somebody else’s name in bed.”

You groan and roll onto your back, crossing your arms in a more childlike way than you’d care to admit. Then, you got an idea.

“Fine, you don’t want to fuck me? I’ll do it myself.” You lift your hips and push your sweatpants down to your feet until you’re able to kick them all the way off, lower half left just in a small thong.

“What are you doing?” Matt asks nervously, staring down at your half naked body.

“Getting myself off since you won’t do it,” you tell him obviously, using your fingers to pull your panties to the side, fingers dipping near your entrance to gather the wetness that’s already formed from how horny you were, dragging it up to your clit and starting to form circles on it, eyes fluttering shut and a small breath slipping out of your mouth.

“Stop,” Matt protests, but does nothing to stop you, only keeps his gaze locked on where your fingers massage your core.

“Fuck, Matt,” you whine, hips grinding slowly on your own hand. You slid your hand down and slipped your fingers inside yourself, letting out a higher-pitched moan. “Need you so bad, please.”

Matt watches you with wide eyes, unable to look away from you as you pleasure yourself, his pants no doubt getting tighter. He’s never seen you like this, touching yourself and moaning his name while he sits back and watches, too stubborn for his own good.

This went on for a few minutes until you were trembling, pleas falling from your lips as you begged Matt to touch you, now mostly just as a way to tease him since you were nearing your climax even without him, but you wanted him to know that it was him you needed, not anybody else.

“Please, can’t do it without you, need you,” you cry, turning your head to meet Matt’s eyes that stared back at you lustfully, about to give up and touch you, fuck you, whatever you wanted.

Until the door swung open.

Your eyes shot to the open doorway, landing on Chris who had his mouth open about to speak when he saw you sprawled out on the bed touching yourself, his breath catching in his throat. His attention was drawn to your fingers working on your clit, then his gaze trailed up your body until he met yours, your eyebrows furrowing before you shut your eyes and threw your head back, thighs closing around your hand as you came hard, body shaking through it harshly, loud moans leaving your lips.

Shit. Again.

Matt yells out, ripping you out of your high. “Did you just cum to my brother again?!” He stands up from the bed, eyes shooting between the two of you quickly. “God, just fuck each other and get it over with already.”

Chris turns to his brother and smiles, tilting his head excitedly. “Really?”

Matt looks at him in shock, wanting to literally pull his hair out at how dumb Chris was. “No!”

-

You hadn’t heard from Matt for a solid twenty four hours after the last incident, and you really couldn’t blame him. It was bad enough the first time when the thought of Chris had pushed you over the edge, but watching it happen in real time, seeing how you fell apart at the sight of Chris watching you, it was understandable that he needed his distance. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he broke up with you after that.

Surprisingly, your phone rang out through your bedroom with a text notification from your boyfriend, though all it read was an ominous ‘come over’. You didn’t have to be told twice, though, and you put on some acceptable clothing instead of your pajamas before leaving your house, heading for the triplets’ place.

It didn’t take you long to arrive as you weren’t very far, but for some reason you had a nervous, yet excited, feeling creeping up inside of you. Was Matt finally going to have sex with you? Would he be rougher than he normally was? Or were you thinking about this all wrong and he was actually about to break up with you and break your heart.

Whatever it was, you were about to find out as you were already letting yourself into their house, calling out loudly to let Matt know you had arrived, but you were met with complete silence.

“Hello?” You called again, trudging up the stairs to their living room but finding it empty. “The fuck?”

The lights were dim in the house and you didn’t see anyone immediately like you typically did. “Matt?” You call out, setting your purse down on the couch. “Chris? Nick?” Still nothing.

You sigh, annoyed at the lack of response, before you walk over to Matt’s room and push the door open, seeing him sitting at the edge of his bed nervously. Your eyes stay on him for a few seconds before you shift your gaze to the more dominant, confident energy in the room. Chris is sat in Matt’s gaming chair with his hands resting in his lap, legs spread slightly, staring at you hungrily as you slowly stepped in the room “Hi..” you mumble, looking back and forth between both of them. “What’s going on in here?”

Matt looks up at his brother, prompting him to speak, but Chris smirks, nodding his head towards you. “You tell her, that’s your girl.”

Matt rolls his eyes, annoyed at his choice of words. Sure, you were his girl now, but not for long. He looks back at you, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs. “I want you to have sex with Chris,” he says in a monotone voice.

Your eyes widen in surprise, feeling like you must’ve heard him incorrectly. “You what?” You ask sharply.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Matt grumbles, eyes dropping back to his lap.

“Matt, baby, I don’t need to fuck Chris,” you tell him, walking over to sit next to him on the bed, resting your hand on his thigh. “You’re more than enough for me.” Lie. You needed more.

Matt scoffs, turning to meet your eyes. “You want to fuck Chris and you’re never going to not want to so I might as well just let you do it instead of find out you guys are sneaking around.”

Chris stands up from the chair at that moment, stalking towards you slowly. “Tell her the full truth, Matt.” He says lowly, sitting himself behind you, sandwiching you between both of them. His hands come up to rest on your leg, much higher than you expected, making you jump. “Tell her how you want us to take her at the same time.”

You whip your head around to look at Chris in shock, then turn back to your boyfriend. “Both? A-at the same time?”

“If you can take it,” Chris taunts, slipping his hand underneath the shorts you wore. “Think you can handle it, princess? Both of us?”

“Yes,” you immediately answer, feeling your skin start to heat up at Chris’s touch, though your eyes remained on Matt’s, seeing them darken at the way you reacted, knowing he was about to see a completely different side of you.

“We’ll be gentle, I promise,” Matt smiles at you, and you couldn’t help the look of disappointment that flashed over your face, turning your head to Chris to see if that statement was true. When you met Chris’s eyes, he smiled sinisterly at you, shaking his head slightly.

“Maybe you’ll be gentle,” he says directed towards Matt, keeping his gaze down on you. Your lips curled up into the beginnings of an excited smile, eyes lighting up. “But I don’t think she wants me to be gentle, do you, princess?”

You quickly shake your head, letting him know you want him to be anything but. Chris hums, pulling his hand away from you completely. “Thought so.” He stands up and walks towards his phone that was on Matt’s gaming desk, fingers dancing over it for a moment before low, sensual music filled the room, his phone connected to speakers that Matt had set up a few months ago. You weren’t complaining, if anything you loved having a background of music to your sexual endeavors, finding that it amps up the excitement of everything.

Matt moves to stand up to rid himself from his clothes, leaving him in just his underwear, and once he’s done he crawls back up the bed to lean against the headboard, eyes locked on you the whole time. Your heart is pounding when you turn to see Chris throwing his shirt on the ground, sweatpants slung low on his hips as he walks back towards you, sitting on the bed next to you and leaning back on his hands. “Come here,” he demands and you oblige, quickly moving to swing a leg over his lap, making yourself comfortable on top of his thighs. “Take your shirt off.” Chris nods his head at you in a cocky manner, feeling his dick twitch in his pants at the tension, feeling just how nervous you were in front of him.

You peek behind him at Matt who watched you climb onto his brother, trying to push his obvious jealousy down for the time being to make sure you got everything you wanted out of this experience as he didn’t know if he’d be able to suffer through watching you be so obedient while perched on someone else’s lap ever again. Matt just nods at you, letting you know it’s okay before you look back at Chris who’s patiently waiting for you to strip for him, gaze never leaving your face even when you broke eye contact.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it up slowly, teasingly, revealing the dark blue, lacy bra underneath, tits resting perfectly inside it, bouncing when you threw your shirt across the room. Chris stares for a moment, feeling his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you in front of him, on top of him. He’s thought about this for so long, fantasized about getting you exactly how he wants you. “Stand up,” he demands and you immediately slide off of his lap, standing in front of him. His eyes trail down to your lower half and you understand what he means, thumbs looping in the waistband of your shorts. But you don’t pull them down yet, not before turning around to face away from Chris, leaning over as you slide your shorts down your legs as slowly as you can, your matching blue lace panties on display for Matt and Chris to see. You knew you weren’t in control whatsoever, but you wanted to tease Chris as much as you could. You’ve wanted him for longer than you cared to admit, always stealing glances and listening extra close when he raved to his brothers about this girl he’s been seeing, desperate to feel his touch on you the same way you’ve imagined for the past few months. Chris breaks you from your thoughts after you kick your shorts away, grabbing your hips to pull you back onto his lap, your back resting against his chest now.

“God, you really are a fucking slut, aren’t you? You wore a matching set in the hopes you’d finally get your fucking wish. Tell me I’m wrong.” Chris uses both of his hands on your inner thighs to spread your legs roughly, eliciting a small whine from you.

“I didn’t,” you reply weakly, head falling back on Chris’s shoulder as his fingers trail closer and closer to your core. “I wore it hoping my boyfriend would finally fuck me.”

Chris hums in your ear, rubbing his fingertips over your clit on top of your panties, letting out a small breath as his eyes fluttered shut. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this. How bad I’ve wanted to see you fall apart for me.”

“Chris,” Matt warns from behind you, tone laced with jealousy.

“Sorry,” Chris laughs. “I can’t help it, your girlfriend’s irresistible. I just want to fuck her ‘til she’s crying.”

“Crying?” Matt questions, starting to get nervous.

Chris huffs and spins his head around, glaring at his brother. “Yes, Matt, until she’s fucking crying, because she’s a dirty little slut that wants that, isn’t that right, angel? Tell your precious, innocent little boyfriend that you want me to fuck you so hard you can’t even think about anything but my cock.”

You can’t bring yourself to turn and face Matt with Chris’s hands all over you, your skin heating up as his hands roam over you, breathing slow but heavy. It feels heavenly and filthy all at the same time, the way hands created in the same womb could feel so dirty compared to the ones that felt so soft and gentle against you. The way he gripped your thighs, your waist, your hips.

Chris stilled his hand atop your underwear and slid his hands over your thighs before he dropped them to the bed. “Get up,” he demands. You’re quick to obey, standing up and turning back to face him, cheeks already flushed from how worked up you were getting. He smiled at the sight, standing to his feet in front of you, staring down at your face. “You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers, hand coming up to grab your cheek. “Can’t wait to ruin you.”

He seals is sentiment with a kiss, pulling you closer until your lips press together. It was slow, sensual, deep and the feeling of him holding you in place while his lips moved with yours set you alight. His kiss was more controlling than Matt’s, the way his fingers gripped at your jaw and tilted your head up, whereas Matt’s touch was always delicate and loving. It doesn’t last long, though, him pulling away and stepping aside, hand sliding to the back of your neck to push you onto the bed where you fall onto your hands roughly, hair falling in your face, staring straight up at Matt who waited so patiently for you at the headboard. He stared down at you with a mixture of desire and resentment, the emotions giving his face a darker intensity than you’re used to.

You couldn’t help but crawl up the bed towards Matt slowly, keeping eye contact until you were on your hands and knees between his legs, his gaze never leaving you. You gently pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, smiling at your boyfriend. “You’re so good to me, you know that?” You start, voice low. “Can I show you just how much I appreciate you?”

You see Matt’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows, nodding slowly at your words, nervous to speak in fear of his voice betraying him. You smile wider and sit back on your knees, hands reaching forward into grab the waistband of Matt’s underwear, pulling them down just enough to let his dick spring out, a happy noise leaving your throat. “I missed you,” you whisper, eyes locked on his dick. Matt just chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Prove it,” he tells you and your eyes widen, moving back up to meet his again. While his words weren’t necessarily dirty, the undertone was, and it was enough to send an excited shiver down your spine.

“Yes, sir,” you agree, leaning back over to take the head of his dick into your mouth, tongue swirling enthusiastically, eliciting a small groan from Matt’s mouth, his head falling back against the headboard. You had definitely missed sex with Matt, and as much as he tried to pretend he didn’t want it, he missed it just as much if not more.

You feel the bed dip from behind you and a pair of hands are running over your back seconds later, his fingers coming down and catching in the waistband of your panties, wasting no time to pull them down your legs. You lift one knee at a time to assist with taking them off, leaving your lower half naked as he pulls them over your ankles. Chris sits behind you and admires the sight for a few moments before he moves to lay on his back, legs hanging off the bed, his face directly under your pussy.

You feel your heart rate picking up at the feeling of his hands wrapping around your thighs from underneath you paired with the feeling of Matt’s hand tangled in your hair, tentatively pushing you lower on his cock which you happily accepted into your mouth.

“Come here,” Chris says, voice deeper than usual. His hands gripped your thighs from where he lay underneath you, pulling your hips lower until his lips reached your already soaked folds, a muffled whine bubbling through your nose at the feeling.

His hands held you down firmly, leaving no room between you and his mouth, your thighs spread wide on either side of his head. Chris let out a moan as his tongue came out to flatten against your entrance, dragging up towards your clit until he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, sucking it into his mouth roughly.

Between the feeling of Matt’s cock buried in your throat and Chris’s mouth lapping up your soaked pussy, you could feel your mind already starting to spin. You’d imagined this more times than you could count, but the reality of it was so much better than anything your imagination could’ve mustered up.

You’re moaning around Matt, nose touching his stomach every time you slide your lips down, taking as much of him as you could in each stroke, feeling his chest heaving above you as he tugged on the hair he’d pulled into a ponytail, holding your hair to the side so he could see your face as you went down on him. “Feels so good, baby,” he moaned softly.

Chris moans in the agreement from his home underneath you, fingertips gripping harshly in your fleshy thighs, sure to leave small bruises with each touch. You didn’t mind; rather you were excited for the reminder of what will probably go down as your favorite sexual experience in history.

Your hips slowly grind into Chris’s face which he happily allows, your movement spreading a mixture of your arousal and his saliva from his nose to his chin, a bead of liquid even dripping from his chin down his throat. He suddenly moves his right hand from your thigh and pulls it between them to meet his mouth, sliding his fingers through your slit to get them wet before he slips two inside you, digging his pointer and pinky fingers into the bottoms of your ass cheeks from how harshly he’s curling them inside of you. You let out a loud, high-pitched moan at the feeling, your jaw falling open and your eyes falling shut, hands digging into the sheets on either side of Matt’s hips.

Matt’s cock slips from your mouth as your head falls onto his hip, thighs trembling as Chris’s fingers work in tandem with his tongue, a stark difference from the way Matt’s hand that was laced in your hair was stroking your cheek, keeping you grounded. Despite the last week, he was still the safest person to you, the only person that could bring you down to earth when you got too flustered and that didn’t change in this situation, his soft touch reminding you he was there giving you that extra push to relax into the moment, let your mind focus on the pleasure coursing through you.

“Chris,” you groan, eyebrows twisting up as his long fingers pull out and replace his lips on your clit, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah, princess?” He replies.

You whimper at the name, his low tone catching you off guard. “Feels so good,” you tell him.

He’s quiet for a moment, smirking widely, before he slips his fingers back into you. “I know,” he replies, lips meeting your clit again.

“Fucking asshole,” Matt mutters, making you choke out a small laugh, hand coming up to stroke Matt again.

“He’s so cocky,” you mumble, eyes peeling open to look up at Matt, his own eyes meeting yours with a lazy smile.

Matt nods a couple times, trailing his gaze over your face, examining your fucked out expression. “You’re so pretty like this,” he tells you.

His words send another rush through you and you drop your head back to his hip as you stroke him lazily, hips starting to stutter from the way Chris was eating you out.

“Chris,” you moan again in warning. “I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop.”

Chris hums in response, keeping his same pace with his fingers and tongue, feeling you start to clench around him, knowing he was about to bring you to your first orgasm.

It didn’t take long after that for it to crash over you, thighs shaking as you moaned into Matt’s skin, his nails scratching over your scalp tenderly while Chris’s free hand gripped your thigh so hard you were sure to have fingerprints for days.

“Fuck!” You cry out, trying to pull your hips away when Chris doesn’t stop, taking no breaks after the shocks of your orgasm subside, overstimulating you more than you’d ever experienced, your hearing starting to get fuzzy as you felt another orgasm coiling inside of you.

Your jaw was slack, eyes clenched shut as you continued to shake above Chris, unable to make any sound as he coaxed another orgasm out of you back to back, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you came harder than you did the first time.

Chris finally pulls his mouth away from you, leaving a small kiss on your clit before he pulls his fingers out and swipes them on the back of your thighs, smearing your release on your skin before he sits up and turns to look at your limp body resting on Matt, smug expression on his face as he watches you try to catch your breath. He drags his eyes up and meets his brother’s, raising an eyebrow at him quickly before he comes up behind you and runs his hands over your hips.

“You’re not done, are you?” He snarks, swiping his thumbs over your skin.

You’re still motionless apart from the heaving in your chest, the English language slipping your mind completely. Chris just laughs, pushing his sweatpants and underwear past his hips, finally releasing his aching cock after all this time, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some pressure, a small groan leaving his lips.

“Can’t even speak, huh?” He taunts.

Matt glares up at him. “Give her a fucking minute,” he snaps and Chris stares down at him, eyes dark.

“She’s fine,” he retorts. “Aren’t you, baby? You want more?”

You’re still wordless as you nod your head, eyes finally opening to turn and look at Chris positioned behind you.

He smiles down at you, resting his cock between your ass cheeks, sliding it between them a few times before he looks up at his brother again.

“She on birth control?” He asks nonchalantly.

“What?” Matt spits in disbelief.

“You fucking heard me,” Chris spats back.

Matt raises his eyebrows at his younger brother. “Yeah, but don’t even think about-“

Chris has his answer, and he’s satisfied with it. “Perfect,” he interrupts Matt and pushes himself inside of you, a loud gasp slipping your lips as he bottoms out, his own head falling back on his shoulders as he moans.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he tries to control himself from going too hard too fast on you.

“Oh my god,” you finally moan out, voice raspy.

“There’s my good girl,” Chris moans out, pulling his hand back to land a harsh slap to your ass, a red handprint immediately forming.

You push yourself back up onto your hands looking up at Matt who stared down at you worriedly, shooting him a lazy smile. “On your knees?” You ask sweetly and he obliges, getting on his knees in front of you.

You place your mouth back over Matt, fully getting fucked from both ends now and you felt satisfaction creeping up in all the dark parts of your mind as they took over all of your senses. Taste, touch, smell, hearing, vision all completely dominated by the two men inside you.

You’re moaning around Matt’s dick as Chris sets a rough pace, his thrusts sending your body forward and causing you to gag around Matt, tears filling your eyes as drool slipped from your lips uncontrollably, the sight causing Matt’s stomach to tense. He was enjoying more than he cared to admit, the way your body was forced onto him awakening a part of him he never knew was there. His hand gripped a bit harder in your hair, the action making him nervous at first before he heard you moaning loudly, sending vibrations through his skin.

Chris was relentless, slamming into you while muttering about how good you felt, pace never slowing. You’re barely able to hold yourself up on your hands as he’s pounding into you, the sound of your bodies colliding overpowering the music filling the room. He’s anything but gentle with you and Matt’s grip is getting tighter, both of them no doubt nearing their climax as they use your body for their own pleasure. Matt’s thrusting his hips in time with Chris’s now, both of them bottoming out inside you at the same time now, your body feeling like it’s being torn in two.

Chris lands another slap on your reddened skin, this one harsher than the last, following it up with his fingers digging into the skin he smacked, nails digging in roughly. Matt notices this and reaches out to smack his hand away. “Chill out,” he demands.

Chris glares up at his brother, expression darkening as they lock eyes above you. “She’s fucking fine,” he growls out.

“You’re too rough,” Matt retorts, hand running over your back as he glares back at his brother.

Chris has had enough of Matt’s policing, wondering why he’d even agree to this if he was just going to worry the whole time. He reaches down and wraps a hand around your throat from behind, pulling you off of Matt’s dick and onto your knees in front of him, still buried deep inside you. He’s got you both facing a surprised Matt, hand tightening around your neck. “Tell him you’re fine,” he demands, voice growling in your ear. “Tell him you love getting fucked like the greedy little slut you are. That you liked being used as a fucking cocksleeve and getting fucked dumb.”

You’re staring straight into Matt’s eyes, face contorted as you try to catch your breath, though your efforts prove useless, knowing he’s waiting for your answer, wanting to see if you really were as filthy as Chris made you seem.

Chris was still buried inside of you from behind, his hips stilled as he cradled you against his chest, his free hand inching down to rub over your clit slowly, making your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at him,” Chris orders, shaking you with the grip around your throat. “Tell him.”

You let out a low groan when Chris slowly pulls out and pushes back into you, the pairing of both hands on your body having you teetering on the edge like a rollercoaster about to take its first drop; teasing and taunting, but the second it tips over you’re struggling to catch your breath, completely at the mercy of the ride until it’s over, suspended in the weightlessness.

When you rip your eyes back open and focus them on Matt’s blue ones staring back at you, the coaster tips and you’re shaking again, letting out choked moans and cries, black tear tracks running down your flushed face. Chris fucks you through it eagerly, whispering soft praises in your ear until you’re coming down, grip loosening on your throat until he slides it down your chest. “God, you are something else,” he tells you, shoving your shoulders forward until you land on your hands again. “You’re useless if you’re not getting me off, though.”

He picks up his pace once more and you let out a small whimper at the oversensitivity, feeling Matt’s hand come up to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip gently. It’s then that you remember you have to get him off, too, so you take him back into your mouth as far as you can, hearing him groan above you as he starts to gently thrust into your mouth again, his pace vastly different from his brothers who was fucking into you so roughly it made the headboard slam into the wall. You didn’t even know Matt’s bed moved that much.

You can hear Matt’s moans turning to whines as he fucks your mouth, encouraging you to pull out all the stops and bring him to his orgasm, tongue circling around his tip every time he pulled almost all the way out. It doesn’t take long for his hips to start to stutter, his hand pulling your hair harder as he shoots warm ropes of cum onto your tongue, letting out small, whimpered breaths as he watches you take everything he gives you. You swallow around him and pull off with a small pop, turning your eyes up to him and smiling meekly, an expression he returned, hand loosening in your hair.

Chris behind you, though, got louder as he got closer, mumbling profanities under his breath as he used you for his own release, hands sliding up to pull you back into him by your waist, his touch feeling nothing short of addicting.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so wet for me, gonna cum,” he grunts out and you have an idea, a last hoorah for the night.

You pull your hips away from him, to which he strongly protests, scurrying off the bed and onto the floor on your knees. He quickly understands what you’re implying and climbs off after you, standing above you with a smirk on his face. “You’re fucking filthy, you know that?” He reaches out with one hand to grip your jaw roughly, holding your face still as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out as far as it can go. His other hand quickly pumps his cock, stomach tensing as he finally cums, releasing all over your tongue and face, letting out a low moan at the sight of himself painting your pretty features that he couldn’t help but be obsessed with. He’d never be able to get this sight out of his head, locking it away in a deep part of his brain for safe keeping. He spurts out his last bits of cum, wiping the tip of his dick on your tongue before he sits back on the edge of the bed, letting out a loud breath.

Both boys stare down at you on your knees from where they’re perched on the bed, their gazes making you smile shyly. “What?” You ask quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Their jaws slung open and eyes hooded as they catch their breath, watching you take your thumb and swipe through some of Chris’s release on your cheek, smiling as you press your thumb into your mouth and suck it clean.

Chris tears his eyes away and turns to his brother behind him. “I’m definitely fucking your bitch again.”

Matt scowls at him. “No the fuck you’re not.”

Chris turns back to you, a smiling, fucked out mess on the floor, your eyes locking as he smirked back at you.

“Watch me.”

a/n: part two where he gets her alone? 👀

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams

[celenexox]

Bags - Matt Sturniolo

pairings: bsf!matt x bsf!reader

summary: when you’ve had feelings for your best friend and finally tell him

warnings: kissing, swearing, fluff

“i don’t know, what if he doesn’t reciprocate these feelings that i have for him” you anxiously say, hoping for this conversation to end “y/n you’re like the only person who isn’t taking the hint, we all know he likes you and that you like him back, so stop being a pussy and just tell him how you feel later today!”

“i can’t okay, he clearly likes addy” addy is another one of your friends in the group, you two aren’t as close, but she’s still a good friend of yours, and matt’s

“no he does not, and it’s not like they’re dating, you’re not like a homewrecker or anything” hannah says trying to convince you of it

it’s been two hours and you guys arrive at the sturniolo house, before you could leave the drivers seat, you feel a hand reach out to grab you “tell him by the end of today” hannah says, you sigh in response then you both exit the car, you walk up to the door and knock and the whole time hannah is giving you a certain look, you know what you had to do

“heyyy” nick says, moving aside to welcome you into his home, as you walk in you already see everyone there, sitting on the couch greeting you and hannah, your eyes land on matt’s, he quickly stands up when you two interlock eyes to greet you directly

“hey y/n” he says in a soft manner, you could barely move your lips and all you could manage to let out was “hey” the two of you slide down onto the couch sitting beside eachother, just centimeters apart from your arms touching, on the other side of him was addy, “hey y/n!” she calls out to you “oh hey addy” you say back trying to sound as friendly as possible because starting now you’re going to overthink all of your interactions with these two

an hour has passed and everyone’s gotten up and around and talked, you are no longer sitting beside matt and addy but next to chris, you were laughing as you watch him and nick currently teaching hannah how to play their favorite video game, and to the other side now was addy and matt talking and touching about whatever

hannah took notice of you staring at them and mouths out to you “go tell him” but right now you were just too frustrated to even say anything because of the way they were acting around eachother, you start to think to yourself how there’s no way he could ever like you back, look at the way he’s being with addy, there’s no possible way he could like you and not her

all the emotions are now starting to flow through you and you quickly get up to go to the bathroom, on your way there tears start to fog up your eyes and matt looks at you before you could fully make your way down the hallway

you close the door to the bathroom and splash water on your face so that the redness the crying has created goes away, you then hear a quiet knock on the door that you thought would be from hannah so you open it only to find a beautiful figure of a man standing infront of you

“oh- uh matt” you say in shock trying to wipe the last of the tears off your face “y/n what’s wrong? you looked upset” you look into his eyes for a few seconds, contemplating on whether or not you should say the things that could either shape or break your friendship with matt, before you could think anymore you went for it

“matt i’m so done with this, i like you okay? i’ve been liking you but i could just never find the right time to say it, i’ve been holding this back for a while because i know that you like addy, so if you don’t like me back that’s fine, i just had to get this off my chest” did you really just say that? you could barely look at him, scared of what he’ll say next

“y/n, how could i not like you? you’re funny, beautiful, smart, and i could just go on and on, i don’t even know why you brought up addy, she’s just a friend, but you are more than that to me and i’m so glad you told me how you feel because i feel the same way”

you stare at eachother for a quick moment then you ultimately break the silence “soo what now?”

“y/n, do you want to be my girlfriend?” is all you hear matt say before you plant your lips onto his

“yes”.