Product Placement
sheepfilms
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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Cosimo Galluzzi
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titsay
todays bird
oozey mess
Not today Justin
Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
⁂
noise dept.
art blog(derogatory)
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
ellievsbear
blake kathryn
seen from Türkiye
seen from Hungary
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@cherrystainss
〢 ♪ now playing . . . 𝓢𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐔𝐄! ; by 𝓡𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝓜𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 ── ‧₊˚
❀ ︵ 𝓒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝓨, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 . . . ノ 𝐚𝓴𝐚 𝓶𝐚𝐭𝐭’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬. ‘𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲.’ 𝟔𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 & 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝓷𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐚. ‘𝓶𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝓪𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲.’ 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥. 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐲. 𝐦𝐚𝐜 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫. 𝐚$𝐚𝐩 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲. 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝓼𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝓪𝓲𝐧. '𝓼𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝓷𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝓸𝐦𝐞’ ───── .☘︎ ݁˖ 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙱𝙴 𝙳𝚄𝙼𝙱 ꩜ ₊⊹
────── .☘︎ ݁˖ # 𝓣𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ::
::: » ( 𝒊 ) 𝓁𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲. ( 𝒊𝒊 ) 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝓮𝓼. ( 𝒊𝒊𝒊 ) 𝓻𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 « :::
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ©2025 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐬
CHERRY CHERRY YOUR LIKE ONE OF MY FAVORITE PPL IVE MET ON HEAR PLS COME BACK I LOVE U IVE MISSED U AND YOUVE LEFT ME FOR MONTHS NOW 😭😭😭
oh my god sweetie😭 i looooove you and i promise i’ll be back💗💗💗
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ dealer!chris && sunshine!reader . ❀ ݁ ˖
❛ late night tears ❜
it was at least hard for you to keep up with everything: college stuff, work, personal needs, chris. sometimes it all welled up. swollened up in your chest and then bursted out, making you fall into a monotone rythm.
it was a quiet friday night when you called for chris, practically begging him to come to your place— like he wouldn't drop anything in your favor. it was the kind of night where even air felt heavy on your shoulders, and you just knew chris could ease the tension knotting itself in your body.
he was at your doorstep in a heartbeat, ready to be the shoulder you needed to rest your head onto.
you were now perched up in his lap, enormous pink hoodie engulfing your figure as you watched with glossy eyes some cartoon you used to love. but not now— not when every move, every breath, every word felt too heavy and overwhelming.
nuzzling your face in chris' chest, he immediatelly senses your tense shoulders, your trembling hands that wrapped around him like you were scared someone might take you away from him.
"hey, hey, hey..." he says softly, taking your face into both of his hands. "sunny baby, what's going on?" you couldn’t read anything but concern in his eyes. care.
"just... just need y'closer," you mumble, glossy eyes looking up at him. he sighs, brushing his fingers through your hair, the silk threads molding between his fingers.
"you're literally on top of me, sun', how could you possibly be closer?" he asks, a little amused, completely unaware of the stirring feelings he brought up along with that simple question. you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his lap and locking his hips under yours. he's taken aback by your sharp movements, barely having any time to react.
"y'know what i mean" you mumble against his mouth, voice thick with something desperate— need, lust. you engulf his lips into a passionate kiss, but your heart drops in your chest when he didn't reciprocate it— again. his hands grip your shoulders, pulling you away from his lips.
something builds up in your throat, a heavy lump that can't be swollen easily. frustration combined with embarrassment, making your eyes sting, bottom lip pouting — the most wrecked pout chris ever witnessed, but it wasn't enough to change his mind.
"chris, c'mon" you whine, hands clawing at his shirt, like trying to lure him into backing down. "no, sunny. y'already know the answer" he says almost harshly, not intending to hurt your feelings, but to make you understand.
you feel the frustration bubbling up in your chest, spilling out your eyes as hot, salty tears. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand before placing it on your forearm, drawing soothing circles. "don't cry, sweetheart, please. y'know it's not about you."
"oh, spare me, chris. you fuck around all the time, but you never see me like that. you don't fucking want me." he flinches slightly at your words. you never swear, which took him by surprise now with your choice of words, but he's quick to regain his composure. a deep sigh tores from his throat, conflict obvious and strong behind his eyes.
he picks you up by your waist, placing you on the couch like you weight nothing— like you were some fussy kid that needed to be put in their place. he's quick to leave, but you're quicker to stand up and grab his arm. "no, you don't get to leave now. it's not fair." you almost shout, voice bitter, but full of hurt— something that made chris weak on his knees.
"what? you going to "take your nerves out" on some other girl now, huh? a quick fuck to make you feel better?" you swallow harshly, the malice in your voice making it unrecognizable even to your. "because i could never satisfy you like that?" you burst out, vision —and train of thought— blurred by pain, embarrassment, sadness.
"for fuck's sake, sunny, you don't fucking know what y're talking about," he yells, already fed up. "i can't mess around wit'ya, what the hell can't you understand? it wouldn't be just a fuck with ya'- that's why i don't fucking afford to put my hands on you,” his venomous tone sprawls goosebumps on the back of your neck, walls reverbating a faint humm— a kind of silence that was louder, deeper than the storm.
you're left speechless, arms hanging loose around your fragile figure, lips parted like you wanted to say something— but the surface was too thin, and you were scared to fall off the edge.
"what do you mean?" you ask quietly, voice cracking on the last word.
his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. "i'd have to make love to you, sunny. and i-" he sighs deeply, gesturing towards you before his hands perch on his hips. he’s looking anywhere around the room but your eyes— but when they do meet your gaze, your heart drops in your stomach. all you could read in his strikingly blue irises was exhaustion, desperation.
"i don't know how to fucking do that." he says more calmly, voice a breath above above a whisper.
and with those last words, the door closes shut behind him, the sound swarming a faint ‘buzz’ throughout the whole apartment. your heart is left numb, shattered, the pieces scrambling on your carpet.
you sink slowly into the quiet, eyes empty as they begin to sting. a bitter taste floods your tastebuds while silent salty tears start coating your flushed cheeks.
but not even 30 minutes later, chris is back on your doorstep, arms full of your favorite snacks and beautiful, pink roses.
"m'so sorry, sunny. i didn't mean to yell at you," he says softly, engulfing you in his warm embrace and kissing your pain away.
"m'sorry," he repeated continuosly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you were sound asleep on his chest, a quiet, vulnerable comfort wrapping around both of you.
"see i can have me a good giiiirl, and still be addicted to them hood rats" 😭😭😭😭
· ׁً📮 : @sturniolofruitloop ࿔ @sofisturns ࿔ @courta13 ࿔ @ivysturnss ࿔ @matts-wife ࿔ @loser41ifee ࿔ @saintmentor ࿔ @norahsturns ࿔ @chrxsprettygirl ࿔ @sturnspup ࿔ @chrisissos3xy ࿔ @lyingonchris ࿔ @hamzahsn1gf ࿔ @le4hsblog ࿔ @sturniszn ࿔ @matts-babytomatoes ࿔ @sturnsobsessed21 ࿔ @iwishihadmatthewsturniolo ࿔ @meatballlover10 ࿔ @oopsiedaisydeer ࿔ @h3arts4nat ࿔ @clairo4life
cherry come back </3 🥲
……should i?🫦
hi babies! i’m so sorry for my absence here, i know that it’s been a long time since i haven’t posted and i miss you all soooooo, so so much. i have been trying to get back to writing lately but it just seems like i can’t get to be more disciplined and focused, even though writing is the only way i free myself from dark thoughts. but i promise i’ll try my best and get back to writing. kisses 🤍
hello beautiful people<3
i hope you’re all doing well and take care of yourselves properly. unfortunately, i’ve been neglecting my own self lately and i need to give everything a break for a moment. i’ll still be here on tumblr, just won’t post much. kisses 💗
ㅤ¡! ❞ㅤ ⋆·˚ ༘ * cowboy!matt x farmersdaughter!reader
૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა♡ ⸝⸝ ❝ fixing cars and problems ❞
the terrible heat made countless beads of sweat crawl out on your skin, dampening the fabric of your white dress and sticking it flush onto your body. you were in the middle of nowhere, car broken down while heavy, black clouds of exhaust fumes lingered in the already overwhelming air. you rub your eyes tiredly, leaning against the car door as you patiently waited for matt.
you hated that you had to call him for help. you were still mad at him, not quietly remembering why, because you were just dramatic and kinda seeking his attention, keeping in mind he was drowning in work. or maybe that was the reason? his lack of free time?
it didn't really matter now, when his hands roamed on your hips lazily, trying to coax you into forgiving him. he was standing tall and still before you, eyes pleading and already turning glossy. he was desperate, on the verge of literally begging, but god, he couldn’t look more beautiful. puppy, pleading eyes and pouty lips, hands clawing at your ruffled dress like he was craving for your body. like any proximity was vital.
"c'mon, baby– m'sorry, you know i love you," matt says lowly, nose brushing your cheek, all the way down to the side of your neck, sending ticklish goosebumps down your spine.
"yeah, sure, this is why you're spending so much time with me, hm?" you say, rolling your eyes and landing your palm flat on his chest— not sure if to push him away or just press him flushed against you.
"lemme make it up to you then," he says, lips brushing yours just slightly, feathery. asking for permission. but then his mouth latches yours, igniting your entire body. his tongue explores and caresses, dancing with yours in a deliciously gentle manner.
a swarm of heated butterflies runs through your tummy when his ringed fingers slip under your dress and pull you closer, chests confined together. he gropes at the meaty skin of your ass, relishing on the way your flesh molds under his hands.
in just mere seconds, you're in the backseat of his old ford truck, legs spread wide open as matt's skillful mouth worked wonders on you. he kisses and sucks and licks at your swollen bud, making your back arch off the leather seat while he groaned into your sloppy cunt. lewd noises floated in the air, filling the small space.
sliding his large palms up on the underside of your plushy thighs, he gently grips them and places them on his shoulders— like they belong there. like it’s their new home. after he teased your entrance with the tip of his thumb, watching in awe how your little hole clenched around nothing, he plunges two long digits inside of you— slow and curling, lazily moving back and forth so you feel everything he's giving you.
"mmh- pretty girl, c'mon, give it to me," he murmus as he kisses your inner thighs, making sure he leaves a purplish bruise right where your leg meets your pussy. "so good, matt, so-so good," you choke on your own words as matt adds another finger, stretching you to your limit.
as he spits down on your twitching clit, letting it drip down on his fingers, you watch the filthy scene before you with lustful eyes, the coil in your tummy already getting closer to snapping. two flicks of his tongue on your aching clit and you could feel your hole clenching hard on his fingers, head dipping back on the leather seats— letting complete bliss take over you.
and when it does, it makes your vision go blurry and throat raw from the moans that spill from your lips. your lower tummy was captured by lightning waves that went straight to your legs, making them tense and shake uncontrollably.
matt coaxes you through it all, fingers precisely carrying you through your high as his lips stay wrapped around your bud, sucking passionately. you soak his hand all over to the wrist, lips and chin covered in your shiny essence. when he comes up so he faces you, you could still smell yourself on his lips.
"am i forgiven, m'lady?" he asks on the sweetest tone, almost a purr, highly contrasting to the lewd things he was up to just seconds ago.
"mhm, you are," your words come out breathless, close to a whiny cry. he just kisses you, collapsing all of his weight onto your figure— and even though the sun was shining angrily up in the sky, it could never compare to the heat of this moment.
it was comforting and grounding, nothing like the overwhelming fervour of the summer. it didn’t make you want to run away, seek chills. if anything, it made you crave more.
my precioussss ૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა♡
· ׁً💌 ───── .☘︎ ݁˖ : @sturniolofruitloop ࿔ @sofisturns ࿔ @courta13 ࿔ @ivysturnss ࿔ @matts-wife ࿔ @loser41ifee ࿔ @saintmentor ࿔ @norahsturns ࿔ @chrxsprettygirl ࿔ @sturnspup ࿔ @chrisissos3xy ࿔ @lyingonchris ࿔ @hamzahsn1gf ࿔ @le4hsblog ࿔ @sturniszn ࿔ @matts-babytomatoes ࿔ @sturnsobsessed21 ࿔ @iwishihadmatthewsturniolo ࿔ @meatballlover10 ࿔ @oopsiedaisydeer ࿔ @h3arts4nat ࿔ @clairo4life ࿔ @neverstopthekashh ࿔ @everythingaboutbags ࿔ @pair-of-pantaloons ࿔ @sturniqlo ࿔ @angel-sturn1 ࿔ @httpssturns ࿔ @mattsdivaa ࿔ @babyt0matoes ࿔ @chrisslut04 ࿔ @sturnsblogs ࿔
OH THIS THEMEEEEEE
love love loveee <333
Put a song for every letter in your username!
Thank you for the tag @hockeyboistrash! I also included the one number bc I knew a song.
Slapshot! – Noble Son Touch tank – quinine Animals – Nickelback Robbery – Lime Coridale 2 On (feat. ScHoolboy Q) – Tinashe, ScHoolboy Q Freaks – Surf Curse Iris – The Goo Goo Dolls Stateside – PinkPantheress Holiday – Dizzee Rascal Miami 2 Ibiza – Swedish House Mafia, Tinie Tempah English Love Affair – 5 Seconds of Summer Get Up (Rattle) [feat. Fast Car Movement] – Bingo Players, Fast Car Movement
No pressure tags: @definitelynotdomanique @ruinix @rowdyluv @zzbubblegumbitchzz @pucksandpebbles @xaelia-au @lovings4turn
omg thank you so much for tagging me, my love!!! @star2fishmeg
Put a song for every letter in your username!
Detroit -Tyler Childers Enough cryin - Mary j blige Fishin in the dark - Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Infinity - Jaymes Young Nose to the grindstone - Tyler Childers Idle Worship - Paramore Tell me something I don't know - Selena Gomez & The Scene Ex-factor - Ms. Lauryn Hill Live in the sky - T.I. , Jamie Foxx You're not sorry - Taylor Swift Nobody"s home - Avril Lavigne Ooh la la - Faces Trouble man - Marvin Gaye Dead broke - Sheff G One Horse Town - Blackberry Smoke Murder business - NBA Youngboy All around me - Flyleaf Nightmares of the bottom - Lil Wayne I'm gonna run to you - Bridgit Mendler Quittin' time - Zach Bryan Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield Everybody talks - Neon Trees
It's times like these where I 2nd-guess my user, and this was way harder than I thought it was gonna be lmaoo (this is a long post and I apologize!!!)
No pressure tags: @lilhughesy @lyingonchris @ruinix @kawhh @lous-uprising @amourtoken
thank you for the tag!!! @definitelynotdomanique vs
Lacy - olivia rodrigo
You’re On Your Own, Kid - taylor swift
I know it won’t work - gracie abrams
Night Changes - one direction
Getaway Car - taylor swift
Out of the Woods - taylor swift
No Body, No Crime - taylor swift
Come a Little Closer - cage the elephant
How to Save a Life - the fray
Risk - gracie abrams
I Love You, I’m Sorry - gracie abrams
So american - olivia rodrigo
this is really embarrassing for some reason i’m sorry you have to see this. lolll i just chose random songs from my everything playlist😭🫶
no pressure tags!! - @seeing-stars-today @sturnsblogs @mattsproperty @angelicchris @chrissturnslovergirlx @evansturn @grace-sturnz @mwahdelilah @brianaluvschris @canihavemattsturniolopls @lovesturni0l0s @christurniolomyman @kissesfromkitty @2muchofaslvt @drewswife @alyssa-sturn @emely9274 @whore4chris @h3arts4harry @conspiracy-ash @mattswifeyyy @auttysturnz @kenah-sturniolo @slvt4subchratt
thank u for the tag @lyingonchris !!
Angeleyes - ABBA
Normal fucking rockwell - lana del rey
Gees - mac miller (ft. schoolboy q)
Envy the leaves - madison beer
Little lies - fleetwood mac
It almost worked - tv girl
Champagne coast - blood orange
Cigarette daydreams - cage the elephant
Heros - david bowie
Rip screw - travis scott
Ivy - frank ocean
Something, somehow, someday - role model
npts (srry for repeats) - @sfoiasturn @mattsproperty @matthewsroses @mattswrinkleton @sturnsblogs @sturnspup @chrispycremedonut @chrisgirltilidie2
Thank you for the tag! @angelicchris and @lyingonchris
Scott street- phoebe bridgers
The 30th- billie eilish
Undressed- sombr
Romantic Homicide- d4vd
Not a lot, just forever- adrianne lenker
Sticky- tyler the creator
Back to friends- sombr
Love- keyshia cole
Or nah- ty dolla $ign
Good looking- suki waterhouse
Sobs quietly- mom jeans
npts- @httpssturns @lilssturns @etherealsturniolo @bamboonick @silverspringsstare
I LOVE THE IDEA OF THIS TYSM FOR THE TAG @sturnsblogs
----------------
Hand Me Downs - Mac Miller
Telepatía - Kali Uchis
Tv - Billie Eilish
Please Do Not Lean - Daniel Caesar
So My darling - Rachel Chinouriri
Sometimes... - Tyler, the creator
Toronto 2014 - Daniel Caesar
Undressed - sombr
Run away - d4vd
Not My Responsibility - Billie Eilish
Sparks - Coldplay
---------------
npts: @oopsiedaisydeer @kier-with-a-k @backwardshatnick @girliemattitude @viviansturns @courta13 @lilssturns
omg this is such a cool idea 💿💟
Original by malcolm todd Once in a lifetime by talking heads Post break up beauty by kevin abstract Starstudded by malcolm todd In spite of ourselves by john prine Excuse me by a$ap rocky Doggy by geezer A fond farewell by elliot smith I wish you would by taylor swift Some by steve lacy Yoko ono by kevin abstract Dodger blue by kendrick lamar Earrings by malcolm todd Everybody's trying to figure me out by haim Ragdoll by dora jar
npts 💌 @sweetshuga @sturnsrecord @sturniphone @mattscoquette @st7rnioioss @ribbonlovergirl @immaqulate @mattsstarlet @mattslilies @mi-co-uk
ohmygoshh this is so so cute!
Southbound - artemas
Wutiwant - saraunh0ly
Enter sandman - metallica
Eyes don’t lie - isabel larosa
Teacher’s pet - melanie martinez
Shake that - eminem, nate dogg
Heartbeat - childish gambino
Uprising - muse
Guess - charli xcx, billie eillish
Angel - massive attack
npts! @malsmind @delilahsturniolo @sagesturns @sturnmeovr @vanteguccir @kier-with-a-k @immaqulate @thighs4evan @whor3ing @bratzforchris @mi-co-uk
this is so cool
MIDSOMAR - Bad Neighbors
Acid Drip - A$AP Rocky
Love Hangover - JENNIE, Dominic Fike
silent hill - Lil Tracy
My Wrist - Yeat, Young Thug
I LUV IT - Camila Cabello, Playboi Carti
Noid - Tyler, The Creator
DIAMONS & GLITTER - YSB Tril
@strnilolover @mattscig @sturnsblogs @lsdchris @tits4matt @viviansturns @55sturn
THANK UUU @httpssturns @malsmind @auttysturnz @girliemattitude @haysturn FOR TAGGING ME!!! <3
i fw this idea so hard!!!
Vampire - Olivia Rodrigo I Don't Do Drugs - Doja Cat Void - Lil Nas X I LUV IT - Camilla Cabello Alien Blues - Vundabar Naked in Manhattan - Chappel Roan Sex, Drugs, etc - Beach Weather The Diner - Billie Eilish Ur a loser 2 - Highway RED FLAG - Kesha Nasty - Ayesha Erotica Softcore - The Neighborhood
tagss!!! @norahsturns @gisouwhat @nottodaysari @mattstromboli @mattslilies @ali445512 @vampyyluv @owensbabygirl
ahhh! Tysm for tagging me! @viviansturns-side
N- nights like this, the kid laroi.
O- oblivion, Grimes.
R- rubberband, tate McRae.
A- are you bored yet? Wallows and clairo.
H- hello, clairo and rejjie snow.
S- staying up, the neighborhood.
T- timeless, the weekend and playboi carti.
U- uh oh, tate McRae.
R- reflections, the neighborhood.
N- sex, drugs, etc. beach weather.
S- selfish, Madison beer.
This was so fun!!
No pressure tags! @gigiii1sblog @sunrisemill @sturnboos @sturnsrecord @cherrystainss @kenzlie @mattsdivaa @55sturn
thank you love !!
C — champagne coast ; by blood orange
H — highjack; by a$ap rocky
E — everyday ; by a$ap rocky
R — red rum ; by 21 savage
R — revolving door ; by tate mcrae
Y — yale ; by ken carson
S — stoned ; by mac killer
T — teamwork ; by ysb tril
A — alleyways ; by the neighborhood
I — in your arms ; by sombr
N — nothing’s gonna hurt you baby ; by cas
S — superglue ; by role model
S — slipfast ; by role model
💌 ::: anyone who wants to join is free to do it!!!
hi hi! just wanted to tell you i lovee your work queen - sturnshearts ♡
thank you so much love!!💗
WAIT were u the one who bernardsbendystraws collaged with and started all the drama?
nope😭 wrong cherry
guys with short hair ...add up my looooove!!! honey, was it enough?
fluff, kissing, maybe a tad superficial, cute/affectionate, friends to lovers, very minor angst word count - 1.2k
VIRGIN? ࣭ ⭑ ( ｡ featuring . . . chris sturniolo
this will contain . . . rough dom!nerd!chris, spanking, rough sex, degradation, orgasm denial, edging, fingering, overstimulation, hair pulling, fingers in mouth, brief choking, creampie, mild humiliation, etc.
you met chris during your freshman year of college, back when gen eds still had lecture halls packed with hungover students and you were too busy flirting with the guy behind you to pay attention to the syllabus. chris sat in the front row, always on time, always typing faster than the professor could speak. you didn't talk to him at first. he was quiet, soft-spoken, a little awkward—but sharp as hell, and once you were grouped for a project in psych, you realized he wasn't shy so much as selective.
you, on the other hand, were loud, social, and unapologetically open about everything—your opinions, your hookups, your weekend party plans. you weren't ashamed of how many people you'd been with. if anything, you liked watching chris blush when you casually mentioned fucking someone in the backseat of their car or getting eaten out in the frat house laundry room. he'd adjust his glasses, press his lips together, and look anywhere but at you.
now, sophomore year, you and chris were close. close enough to hang out late in his dorm with your legs in his lap. close enough to let your jokes get borderline inappropriate. close enough that you thought you knew him. in your mind, chris was textbook virgin material—never talked about sex, never mentioned a body count, always deflected when you asked. he didn't have a girlfriend, didn't flirt, didn't date. so naturally, you assumed he hadn't gotten around to it yet. maybe he was waiting for someone special. maybe he was nervous. maybe he just didn't have the confidence. either way, the idea of chris having any real experience never even crossed your mind.
you were very, very wrong.
chris wasn't a man-whore. he wasn't the type to sleep around for sport, and he didn't brag. but he wasn't inexperienced either. seven bodies, each one intentional. a handful of casual flings, one almost-relationship, and more than enough practice to know what he was doing. he just didn't feel the need to talk about it—not to anyone. especially not you. not when he could tell how much you liked playing the dominant one in the friendship. you liked teasing him, liked pretending he didn't know anything. and chris? he liked letting you think that.
which brings you to now—sprawled out in his one-person dorm room, papers scattered across his bed, half studying and half talking shit like usual. the desk light is on, casting a soft yellow glow across the room, and the sound of some random playlist hums quietly in the background. you're dressed comfortably—stretchy shorts that ride up every time you shift and a big tee that covers just enough to make it unfair. chris, as always, looks effortless in his nerdy little uniform: black sweatpants that sag a little too low on his hips and a tight, long-sleeve compression shirt that clings to every lean muscle in his upper body. he's leaning against the wall, long legs stretched out, eyes flicking back and forth between a printout and his notes. you're not paying attention. you haven't been for at least twenty minutes.
"sooo… i slept with that guy from my art history class,"'you say suddenly, voice light and smug as you stretch out across the mattress. chris doesn't look up. just hums softly in response, the sound low in his throat. you roll onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him while you talk. "he was cute. decent mouth, boring fingers. kinda soft. i had to fake it twice."
his pen keeps moving. steady. unaffected. you narrow your eyes. "you never tell me about your sex life. like, ever. i could probably name your gpa, your favorite protein bar, and the order of your morning routine, but i have no idea what you're like in bed."
"maybe that's not somethin' you need to know," he says without missing a beat. you scoff, smiling. "so you do have one." chris just shrugs, not even looking at you. and that makes you grin wider.
"what?" you tease. "scared to tell me you're a virgin?" that gets him. not visibly—not in any dramatic way—but his pen pauses for just a second too long. his shoulders stay relaxed, but his eyes finally lift to meet yours. "you think so?" he asks, calm. flat. you nod, teasing lilt in your voice. "one hundred percent positive you're a virgin."
he stares at you. you stare right back. and the tension, usually playful, suddenly shifts. still light, but dense enough to press against your chest. his lips twitch—not quite a smile, not quite a frown—and then he says it: "wan' see what a virgin can do?" your breath catches. for a second, you think you misheard him. but the look on his face tells you otherwise. he's serious. composed. like this has been sitting in his back pocket for weeks, waiting for you to finally test him hard enough. you lean back, settling against the headboard, raising a brow. "you're serious?"
chris doesn't respond. doesn't need to. he sets his notebook aside, pushes the last of his notes away, and shifts toward you without breaking eye contact. his hands find your hips first—strong, certain—and he pulls you gently, slowly, until you're flat on your back beneath him. his knees settle between your thighs, spreading them slightly as he leans down. your shirt rides up, shorts tugged tight around the tops of your thighs, but chris doesn't even glance down. his eyes stay locked on yours as he dips in, kisses you softly.
you kiss him back, waiting for the awkward tongue or messy pressure, but it doesn't come. it's gentle, yeah, but not unsure. his lips part yours like he knows exactly how he wants to take his time, and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw as he deepens it. it's a kiss that says he's not in a hurry. not at all.
you break the kiss first, smirking as you look up at him. "typical virgin," you mutter. he doesn't react. doesn't even blink. he just lowers his head to your neck, lips brushing softly along your skin. "you don't have to be gentle with me, you know," you add, almost challenging. he hums, breath warming the dip beneath your ear. "i know."
you scoff under your breath, cocky and unimpressed. "clearly not…" and that's when he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to make you gasp—hands tightening around your hips like he's just made up his mind. his bite lingers just long enough to leave heat throbbing under your skin, and when he pulls back, his voice is lower than it's ever been.
"y'know," he says, tilting his head, "i've really had enough of the attitude. i think s'time i shut you up, yeah?" your smirk returns instantly. you roll your eyes as if he hasn't just made your heart skip. "you can try, virgin boy."
he doesn't rise to it—not with words, anyway. he just hums. quiet and calm, like he's already halfway to somewhere you can't follow. then he moves, pushing off the bed and standing at the edge with that same slow, deliberate control that's suddenly making you nervous. his hands reach out for your hips again and this time, he doesn't pull you gently—he drags you down the mattress until your thighs are hanging just slightly off the edge, knees bent, body sprawled under him like he's setting up a game he's been dying to play.
his voice comes again, firmer now: "ass up." and you listen. you shift to your stomach without a second thought, lifting your hips and arching your back into position, cheek pressed into the sheets. you feel the air hit your thighs as your oversized t-shirt rides up, and your breath catches when chris slides your shorts down to your thighs and pauses.
"no panties?" he says, voice dropping further. "been plannin' this, haven't you?" you don't answer. your face is already warm and your body is buzzing, and part of you wants to keep playing it cool—keep pretending this isn’t throwing you off balance.
bad idea.
his palm lands on your ass, fast and loud. the smack makes you jolt and hiss, more from surprise than pain, and he doesn't waste a second before rubbing over the sting with a gentle sweep of his hand. "i asked you a question, didn't i?" he says, calm but sharp.
you swallow and nod. "yeah," you breathe. "been wanting it." he lets out a soft, breathy laugh, one that sounds more like satisfaction than amusement. "mm. such a slut." his knees hit the floor behind you, and the next thing you feel is his hands—wide, steady, practiced—gripping both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart without hesitation. the room goes quiet except for your breathing and the shift of fabric and skin, and then chris hums again, deep and almost pleased.
"hm. look at that," he murmurs, staring down at your soaked cunt. "fuckin' drippin' f'me." and then he's leaning in. no warning, no teasing. his tongue meets you with full intention, licking through your folds and groaning into your skin like he's waited months for this. his hands keep you spread open while he eats—sloppy and slow at first, then precise, mouth focused on your clit until you're grinding back against him in desperation. his tongue drags up and down before circling, sucking, licking again until your arms shake from holding yourself up.
you moan loud enough that it fills the room, and chris doesn't stop. doesn't pause. he just buries his face deeper and lets you cry out, fingers digging into your ass to keep you still. you feel the tip of one finger, then two, slip inside—easing in with a slow stretch that has your mouth falling open, eyes fluttering closed. he pumps them gently while his tongue stays locked on your clit, and it's all too much, too fast, too good. your stomach tightens and your thighs begin to tremble, that pressure building deep and low—until he pulls away. everything—his mouth, his fingers, his warmth—gone.
you whine before you can stop yourself, pushing back toward him with your hips, but he's already standing up again, towering over you with a fresh edge to his voice. "aw," he says, feigning sympathy, "you wanted to cum?" you whimper in response, breath shaky. your legs are sticky with slick and your skin's hot all over. he smacks your ass again, harder than before. "use your words like a big girl."
"y-yeah," you stammer, eyes squeezed shut. "please, chris. please…" you hear the shuffle of fabric—his sweatpants sliding down, the low groan that leaves his throat when his dick springs free. your hips twitch involuntarily, needing something to touch, to feel, and then his hand is on your back again, pressing you down into the bed. "stay just like that," he mutters. "don't fuckin' move."
his dick is hot and heavy as he runs it through your slick, dragging the head over your folds, letting it catch against your entrance again and again. he lets out a quiet groan at the wet sound it makes, then finally—finally—he presses in. not soft. not gentle. he sinks into you in one rough thrust, and your mouth drops open with a strangled moan. he's big, thick, filling you all at once without a single pause to let you adjust. your hips jerk forward from the force of it, knees nearly slipping on the sheets, and chris groans behind you—low and filthy, like he's been holding back all night.
he doesn't move. just holds there, deep inside, his palm still planted on the small of your back. "still a virgin?" he asks, voice thick. you try to speak—try to throw another jab, keep the upper hand—but all that comes out is a broken moan. you manage half the sentence: "yeah, you're s-still a virg—" and he pulls out halfway, then slams back in. you cry out, thighs shaking, arms barely keeping you upright.
"since you wan' be a lil fuckin' brat," chris mutters, hips still, dick buried to the base, "you'll do the work yourself."
you whine, low and desperate, hips squirming in his grip like you're trying to retreat—but there's nowhere to go. he's still buried inside you, thick and unyielding, his palm pressed to the small of your back keeping you locked in place. you feel every inch of him, the stretch still fresh and sharp, your walls fluttering around his dick as your body tries to adjust. it's overwhelming. too full, too deep, too sudden. you shift slightly, trying to roll your hips to find some kind of rhythm, some relief—but chris doesn't move. doesn't help. he just stands there behind you, breathing heavy, watching.
"what're you waitin' for?" he says after a moment, voice flat and laced with quiet challenge. "go on. do the work. this is what you wanted, right?" you turn your head against the mattress, eyes half-lidded and lips parted as you suck in a shaky breath. you want to mouth off—want to say something smug, something cocky, keep the upper hand—but your body betrays you. your thighs tremble when you start to move, back arching deeper as you pull forward slightly, then push back onto him in a slow, testing grind. the stretch is brutal, even with how wet you are. his dick drags against every sensitive spot inside you as you try to fuck yourself on him, try to show him you can handle it. you do it again, a little faster, trying to establish a rhythm. it's messy and uneven, but it's something. your hands claw at the sheets as you rock back again, your ass slapping softly against his pelvis.
"mm, yeah," chris hums above you, his hand sliding from your lower back to your hip, fingers digging into the flesh there as he watches you fuck yourself on his dick. "that's what i thought." you don't answer. can't. your breath comes out in gasps, each roll of your hips making it harder to think. you're doing exactly what he told you to, but it's not enough. not really. your pace starts to falter after a few minutes, your thighs burning and your arms weakening beneath you, and chris notices. he can feel it—the way your movements slow, the way you sink lower into the mattress with each tired thrust. and instead of helping you, instead of rewarding the effort, he tsks under his breath like he's disappointed.
"already gettin' tired?" he mutters. "but you were talkin' all that shit earlier, weren't you?" you start to whimper, hips stuttering as you try to keep going, but he cuts you off with another sharp smack to your ass—this one harder than the rest. your body jolts forward with the impact, a moan ripping from your throat as your walls clench around him involuntarily.
"pathetic," chris says, his tone flat but dripping in mockery. "thought you could handle a 'virgin,' right? what happened to all that attitude, huh?" you try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a garbled sound—a half-broken sob against the sheets. your body feels hot all over, skin tingling, your cunt aching and tight around him. you need him to move. need him to do something.
he leans forward without warning, his chest brushing your back as his hand slides up your spine and tangles in your hair. he grips it tight, forcing your head back just enough so your cheek lifts from the mattress, and his other hand reaches around, fingers prying at your lips until two of them slip into your mouth. "open," he says, voice low and steady. "tongue out."
you obey instantly, tongue pressing against his fingers as he slides them deeper, thumb flattening on your tongue while the others rest inside your mouth. it's filthy. controlling. it leaves you drooling onto the sheets as your mouth stretches around him, throat vibrating with every sound you try to make. you moan around his fingers when he finally starts to move behind you—slow, grinding thrusts that feel impossibly deep with the way he angles his hips down. each push forward punches a breath out of your lungs, and every retreat makes you cry for more.
"mm," chris groans behind you, his voice closer now, his hips pressing harder. "fuckin' tight. y'feel that, baby? feel how good you grip me?" you moan again, louder this time, and he just pushes his fingers down harder on your tongue to shut you up. your eyes roll back, body twitching as he begins to thrust harder, rougher, fucking you like he's trying to prove a point. his hand on your hip keeps you steady, dragging you back to meet every slam of his dick, the sound of skin against skin echoing off the walls of his tiny dorm. your thighs shake uncontrollably now, and you're practically drooling around his fingers as your body starts to break apart beneath him.
"yeah?" he pants, voice ragged with effort. "feels so good, doesn't it, baby? this what you needed? needed me deep inside you? thrusting into you all rough like that?" all you can do is sob—no real words, just broken, desperate sounds as your body trembles under the force of it all. your pussy flutters around him, tight and wet and throbbing, and chris groans deep in his chest when he feels it.
"i know, baby," he murmurs. "i know it."
he pulls his fingers from your mouth and lets them trail down your chin, your spit glistening on your skin. his hand finds your throat next—not squeezing, just resting there, heavy and warm—as he keeps fucking into you at a punishing pace. you're so far gone you can't tell where your body ends and his begins, your vision blurred and your mind clouded with heat and sound and scent. his dick is so deep it feels like he's splitting you in half, like you'll never be able to think straight again without remembering what this felt like.
you thought you could handle him.
you thought he was soft.
you thought he was a virgin.
you were so, so wrong.
you don't know when your moans turn into full blown cries—somewhere between his dick slamming deep inside you and the sharp press of his hand around your throat, your body crosses a line. your legs aren't just shaking now—they're folding under you. your arms gave up minutes ago, chest collapsed into the mattress, spine arched in a perfect curve while he keeps holding you in place like he owns you. your mouth is open, your eyes squeezed shut, and everything feels tight and slick and heavy, like your body's been split into pieces and chris is the only one holding them together.
he's breathing hard now, jaw clenched above you as he fucks into you like he's possessed—deep, brutal thrusts that make your whole body jerk with each impact. his grip on your hip is so tight it might bruise. his palm slides from your throat to your jaw, forcing your face to the side so he can see the mess you've become. your spit's on your chin, your mascara smudged, and there's a thin sheen of sweat sticking your shirt to your back. he doesn't say anything for a moment. just watches. breathes. thrusts.
and then, low and clear in your ear: "you still think m'a fuckin' virgin?" you try to shake your head, but it's weak, barely a twitch. your voice comes out as a slurred moan—something like no, but not quite human. "mm. that's what i thought," he murmurs, voice dark with satisfaction. "you run your mouth like a brat, but look at you now—barely takin' me, gettin' ready to tap out."
you feel his hand slide down, fingers slipping between your legs until they find your clit again—sensitive, swollen, already throbbing from being teased. the second he touches you there, you cry out, body jolting in overstimulation. "you close?" he asks, like it's casual. like he doesn't already know the answer from the way your cunt clenches around him every time he grinds against your sweet spot.
you nod frantically, almost sobbing. "yes, yes, please—" but it's too easy. he pulls his fingers away. slows his thrusts to an agonizing roll of his hips, dragging his dick out slowly before snapping back in hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. "yeah, no," he mutters. "not yet."
"chris," you sob, back arching, toes curling into the sheets. "please—"
"should've thought about that before you ran your fuckin' mouth," he snaps, and suddenly the rhythm picks back up again. he fucks into you harder this time, like punishing you for every word you've said since the moment you walked into his room. "call me 'virgin boy' again. go on. say it."
you're incoherent. your lips move, but the only thing you can manage is a gasp, a plea, your hands grabbing at the blankets like they might save you. he laughs. fucking laughs. low and mean. "yeah. not so mouthy now, are you?" his fingers return to your clit, fast and rough, rubbing tight circles that make your hips buck against his. you're begging without words now, just high, desperate noises, whimpering into the mattress as your orgasm coils tighter and tighter until you're seconds away from snapping—and again, he stops.
you whine, full-body shaking, face crumpling against the sheets. you're soaked. trembling. ruined. "chris," you cry, voice raw. "please. i-i can't—" he grabs your hair again, pulls your head up so your ear is near his mouth. "yes you can," he says, cruel but quiet. "you wanted this to happen, you begged for this to happen, so now you have no other choice but to take it."
then he pushes your face back down. hand back on your hip. cock slamming into you again like he's trying to make you forget your own name. every thrust punches another moan out of you, rough and desperate, your body grinding into the mattress, thighs soaked and shaking as he gives you no space to recover. no escape. just him. inside you. everywhere.
"gonna cum," you choke out, voice high and broken. "go ahead," he says, voice thick with arousal. "cum all over my fuckin' dick, mama." and you do. hard. your whole body seizes under him, every nerve on fire, pussy clenching so tight around him that he groans—loud and deep—like the sound gets dragged out of him from somewhere in his chest. your orgasm crashes over you in waves, dizzying and uncontrollable, your cries muffled by the sheets, thighs twitching violently as you come harder than you ever have in your life.
"fuck—there you go," chris grits through his teeth. "just like that. look so fuckin' good when you fall apart." he doesn't stop. he keeps fucking you through it, deep and relentless, using your spasming cunt to chase his own high. he's not even trying to hold back now—his grip turns bruising, his breathing ragged, dick slamming into you at a brutal pace until you're crying all over again.
"shit—gonna—" chris cuts himself off with a groan, then slams into you one last time and holds there, buried deep, his dick twitching as he spills inside you. the heat of it floods your already-sensitive body, and all you can do is moan, breathless and wrecked. chris stays still for a few seconds, head tipped back, chest rising and falling as he comes down from it.
then he slowly pulls out, careful with your oversensitive body, your hips jerking as his dick leaves you. his cum leaks down your thighs almost immediately, and you can barely move. your body is limp, shaking, forehead pressed into the sheets as you gasp for air. he bends over you, fingers brushing your lower back, light now. reverent. "you okay?" he whispers, voice softer again. real.
you nod weakly, and he presses a kiss to your spine. then another to your shoulder. and finally one to the base of your neck, right where he bit you earlier—like sealing it. like claiming it. you don’t say anything for a while. you don't need to.
he already proved everything he needed to.
𖥔﹒ 💌 ˇ ⋆ ╱ for my annoying ass wife @sturnsblogs 🙄🙄 YES I KNOW IT'S OFF TOPIC, but i have another one coming for you either later tonight or tomorrow. also not proofread, so any mistakes you see are figments of your imagination.
taglist ;ଓ @japblogs @courta13 @sturnsblogs @sturniolo-szn2 @theowensturniolo @jvngle18 @chrisgirltilidie2 @urfavvbilliemunch @devotedlyteenagemusic @vxmp42o @sturnsflirt @chriss-slut @oopsiedaisydeer @fawnsprings @mattsd0llfac3 @matthewswifeyy @chrisbambi @mivogjk @adorechris @evansturn @skibidisturniolo @babyt0matoes
holy fuckkkkkkk
:꒱♡ THINGS WE LIVE FOR 𓏲 ࣪˖༄ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓂃 . . . a bsf!chris && bsf!reader series 𓏲 ࣪˖♡
╰⪼ a flowing, tooth-achingly sweet story where two people find themselves utterly and irrevocably drawn towards each other, only that it's one of them pulling the strings
˚₊ · »-♡→ :꒱ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈 presents . . . chris stumbling across bubbles’ beloved journal, fingertips itching with the need to flip through the pages, and as soon as he dives into it, he finds the only way to make her his.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ╰⪼ 𝓣𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ::: ꒱♡
ㅤㅤㅤ ₊ · »-♡→ enough with the chatter . . .
July 4th was always a full day for you and your family. Since your house had the perfect capacity to fit all the loved people you wanted to share a nice dinner with, your family hosted everyone— including friends, work colleagues, neighbours and, of course, the Sturniolos.
People that you could barely call friends, because they were more than that to you. They were family.
While you're busy setting the table, making sure the cuttlery is all silver, every plate has that rosey-white pattern, tissues folded elegantly on top of them, and the tablecloth is even, eyes searching for any crease like a hawk, you almost forget about the succulent turkey that was resting in the oven, on the verge of being completely burnt.
Lucky for you, Chris was always floating around your range of action, making sure you don't stumble across any mishap.
Not just in that exact moment— he has been there. He was both the shoulder you cried onto and the one who made your tummy hurt from laughing too much, cracking jokes even in not-so suitable moments. Stupidly childish remarks that made his brothers roll their eyes in annoyment and your cheeks hurt from smiling cheekily.
He carefully puts on the kitchen gloves, taking out the luscious delight and setting it on the table. You thank him with your eyes, shoulders slumping slightly at your clumsiness. He flashes you a bright smile, silently encouraging you. Looking over the room, he glanced over all the decorations you couldn't hold yourself back from putting up everywhere.
"Don't you get tired of pimping this place up every year?" he says with a low chuckle, hands on his hips.
His eyes landed on a small teddy bear that was perched up on the stair's railing, holding proudly an american flag, drawing from Chris a small chuckle and a shake of his head.
You just roll your eyes and smile softly at his lack of 'holiday spirit'.
"You don't get it," you say while you adjusted the fairy lights framing the window. "My inner child beams at the sight of this."
He watches you from behind, eyes lighting up when they land on the silk bow that wrapped beautifully around your shimmery hair. A trademark accessory that you wore since he firstly met you— and that was a while ago.
"I guess some habits just won't go away, huh?" he says lowly, eyes still lingering on the frail material.
Your conversation is suddenly interrupted by a colorful sound, a contagious laugh that you could only recognize as Nick's, signaling that the rest of the guests have arrived.
Halfway through the night, you were already munching up on the strawberry flavored cupcakes, promising yourself that it's the last one everytime you finished one.
"Woah, easy, Bubs, 's not a contest," Chris says, smiling cheekily, handing you a tissue to wipe the pink icing that was now covering your bottom lip.
You stop your feast, all wide-eyed and confused.
"I was just kidding Bubs, eat as much as you want" he says softer, quieter, with a look in which you could read both concern and regret.
He knew that deep down, even if you turned into this amazingly wonderful woman, you're still you. Still quietly insecure, anxious, panicked. Still sensitive and sweet.
It was just a silly joke— he'd never stop you from eating. Or make you feel guilty about it.
You give him a shy smile, continuing to take small bites from your cupcake.
As he hands you the tissue, he can't help but think about the other ways to wipe it off— maybe run his thumb over your puffy lip and then press his finger flat on his tongue. Only the mere thought makes his tastebuds flood with sweetness— both from your peach flavored lip gloss and the icing of the cupcake.
But he can’t help his mind from drifting off to the delicious fantasy of kissing you softly, lingering on your plump lip, the sweet essence invading his mouth, mind and practically his whole being.
He's immediately pulled out of his trance when a loud thump is heard from outside, signaling the fireworks that the whole neighbourhood have started to put off, keeping the tradition alive.
Your ears prickled instantly, heart racing with excitement as you hurry outside, eyes focused on the lit up sky. You reach for your camera, only to realize it wasn't there.
"Hey, Chris, can you check if my camera's upstairs please?" you ask him, eyes wide and pleading as Chris instantly nodded, spinning on his heels and disappearing up the stairs in seconds.
He checks the other rooms and bathrooms "just in case" before entering your room— that has never failed to surprise him. Walls painted a bright baby pink, clothes scattered all around the floor and millions of photos and posters studding the shelves. Your room was perfectly representing you. Sweet as sugar, but messy as your clothes-covered floor.
He searches in the drawers, pink and yellow sticky notes stucking themselves on his fingers, and moves countless picture frames but still no camera.
He goes for your dressing room, tangling himself in fuzzy cardigans and floral dresses, dead set on finding your polaroid camera— a camera that he gifted you. He couldn't help but puff a little bit with pride, happy that you kept everything he got you.
When he was almost on the verge of giving up, he spots the weathered journal that you've been keeping since middle school. The frayed edges and cracked leather made it look shabby, the worn spine barely holding the pages together, but he knew better than that.
That tattered leather-bound notebook kept the answers to all of his questions, although he never dared to dive into your privacy and crash every wall you've built around yourself.
But something got into him, whispering sultry in his ear, urging him to just grab it. Get his questions finally answered so he can either try harder to get ‘closer’ to you or get his heart to finally move on. He finally reaches for the dog-earned notebook and flips the yellowed pages rapidly.
His vision is blurry, mind anything but focused. Everything he could think about is how disappointed you'd be in him if you caught him in the act. How invasive it is for him to just set your privacy aside to his benefit.
But there's another voice at the back of his head that starts to get louder and stronger.
"She's your best friend of all times. You already know her better than anyone. So, is reading her journal worth criticized? It's just a peek."
Right when the lump in his throat eased, guilt becoming less bitter on his tongue, he hears the faint sound of footsteps, startling him out of his trance. He sets the journal back on the top shelf, trying to act all innocent. But his heart starts galloping in his chest, on the verge of exploding, when a small note left the notebook, flying almost lazily and landing right at his feet.
Grabbing it quickly and getting out of your closet, he sprints right to the door, almost flying to the stairs, guilt building up at the back of his head, tightening his chest.
When he sees you at the bottom of the stairs, he gives you a strained smile, the small piece of paper burning in his back pocket, and if he concentrated more, he swore he could hear it screaming.
You hold up the pink device, a little grin present on your face. “Found it!” you smile cheekily, running to the back yard to take photos of everyone. He nods and gulps harshly, trying his best to stop his hands from sweating and shaking.
You both get out of the house, the warm breeze brushing through your fingers and startling your skin. The soft wind and the deaf sounds of fireworks on the background combine sweetly, morphing into a soft lullaby as Chris watched every move you made from the corner of his eye.
The way your eyes turned a little glossy, lips parted slightly as you looked up in the colorful sky, the fireworks painting your face in faded shades of golden-red stripes. It bathed your features in delicious light, making it hard for Chris not to tuck you close to his chest and trace the faint outlines of the shadows scattered across your face.
He bites his lip, forcing himself to peel his eyes off of you, but to no avail— you were drawn into his mind. His fingers itched again for the skimpy piece of paper tucked in his jeans.
A small, sheepish smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he remembered the ace he hid in… well… in his back pocket.
Once Chris finds himself hidden behind his bedroom door, surrounded by silence and safety, he just then feels fully prepared to pull the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and inspect its contents. His mind floated involuntary to the first time he felt his heart skip a bit in your presence. When his hands were too sweaty and his breath too rough, all caused by your simple presence— well, not exactly simple. To him you were anything but ‘simple’.
You were fireworks and joy. And you made him feel that way since your first high school dance together. It was a stupid winter-coded party that was a tradition in your school, but to you it meant more than that. It meant that you were growing up and, somehow, you were celebrating it.
He vaguely remembers no one invited you— something unbelieveable to him— and you were literally heartbroken. Your confidence was six feet underground.
He found you curled up into a ball in your room, fuzzy blanket shielding you away from everything. You couldn't even look up at him, embarrassment welling up in your gut.
But he took your trembling hands in his, coaxed you back into reality— the reality where you were the girl any boy could wish for— and after he chased your tears away, he took you to that silly dance.
His felt his heart swelling at the sight of you. A perfect, silk, pink dress that hugged your body in the most fascinating ways. He was amazed by your striking appearence, but he felt something else tingling at his heart. Something blooming. He was proud.
Not even an hour before, you were a wreck. Hair all disheveled and teary sniffles. And then you were absolutely glowing.
That night was engraved in his mind. He made you forget about any insignificant insecurity you made up in that little head of yours. The kind of memory that pulled him in a constant state of daydreaming. He thought that he was the only one who felt that way, that you were just clueless to everything.
Little did he know that in the depths of your journal, that night was hidden like a treasure, poured with glittery-pink ink and silly doodles.
You told yourself that the dance was a ‘first time’ and it had to be noted down. For the sake of your ‘continuously growing maturity’
But your poor heart knew better.
You denied the smoldering heat that swinged in your chest— maybe out of naivety, or maybe out of restraint. Till last, it was Chris.
Everyone knew his biggest fear: commitment.
You were indeed the person who he was the closest to, but would he really face his worst fright and then put his heart on a tray, all vulnerable?
Would he really take such risk?
The question sits unanswered in your mind, but if it ever got a chance to get past your lips, he wouldn't hesitate a second.
Yes, the answer is yes. He would.
He tried not to get ahead of himself, repeating ‘It’s not such a big deal’ continuously in his head, but curiosity was still itching at the back of his skull and it was only one way to scratch it down.
He unfolds the little note. The colorful doodles stand out, a smile unconsciously creeping up his lips. He firstly checks the date, exhaling in relief when he realizes it was written a lot of time ago, which increased the chances of you not finding out that he stole it from you.
He sees the title written in your neat, cursive handwriting, and his heart beams with excitement. He didn’t just found a random note of yours— no, no, he won the lottery. He hit the jackpot.
‘Things that are worth living for.’ he read out loud, voice thick with pure joy, sounding like a little kid that was gifted a new toy.
He quickly goes to his desk and re-writes everything down, trying to keep his handwriting at least decent, just to make sure that if he ever lost the original one, he’d have a spare.
He goes through every single sentence attentively, curious. Questions were spiraling in his mind: ‘What made her to write all these?’
‘Would she truly appreciate if anyone did all these things?’
‘What if she even forgot about this and I’m just an idiot?’
But it was no chance you’d forget something so important. For some people, that is just a childish journal and that list is full of silly daydreams, but to you, is where your heart is poured.
His brows fly up his hairline when he gets to the end of the list one. Heat creeps up his cheeks at only the thought of that, not so sure anymore that he’ll be able to fulfill every wish of yours. But he can’t deny that the thought is truly exciting.
He re-reads the note over and over again, holding it tight between his fingers everywhere he went: when he took a warm bath, when he changed into his pajamas, when he brushed his teeth and when he tucked himself into bed, reading it until his eyelids closed shut, sleep settling down in his body.
But even though he let himself swallowed by a steady sleep, a quiet promise lingered in the air, perching itself at the top of his mind and making a goal out of it. He was dead set on fulfilling everything wrote on the crumpled sheet— the last one not entirely excluded— proving you that he is willing make your life worth living.
He’d show you that there are people out there who would sacrifice their time to make your own more enjoyable, even if that meant effort and patience.
In the morning, Chris wakes up as light as a feather, feeling like he got all of his questions answered and all of his problems fixed.
He sings to himself throughout the whole morning, humming quietly and swaying his head to the soft rhythm. He carries himself flowingly, like a flower petal floating in the wind, his whole body beaming with joy. It was almsot concerning how much that little note eased the tumultuous inner conflict he carried when it came to you.
Right before he got in the car with his brothers, he slipped his hand in the pocket of his worn-out jeans and pulled out the note once more, reading his new 'tasks' again.
He was determined to dive into his plan today, given the fact that you're all going to spend the day together.
When Matt parked the car outside your house, the colorful decoration still framing the lovely porch you succesfully convinced your dad to paint in sage green shades coming into sight, Chris felt his heart reaching his gut, emotion getting the better of him. You peek through the ajar front door, opening it widely when you see the triplets' car.
A cheeky smile etches itself on your glossy, pink lips when you step down the porch, feeling a rush of excitement when you see the boys. Chris gets out of the car and sprints towards you, arms streched widely, a childish smile tugging at his lips. Your poor heart turns into utter mush at the sight.
It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was enough for your body to fill up with sparkling fondness.
When he finally reaches you, he envelops you in a clinging hug, spinning you around like you weighted nothing. You melt into the embrace, letting his warmth swirl around you. "Missed me much?" you say through giggles as he holds you so tight you were shocked you could still be able to breathe.
You squeal in surprise, sneaking your arms around Chris' neck, his fresh scent invading your senses.
When he finally sets you on the ground, making sure you're not dizzy, he ruffles your hair and chuckles at your scrunched up nose.
"What has gotten into you?" you say, trying to catch your breath from Chris' attack. "Nothing," he shakes his head, shrugging like it was the most casual thing— but that teasing grin was present on his face.
"What now? I can't hug my favorite girl?" he asks, giving your shoulder an inoffensive nudge.
A trepid swarm runs through your stomach as you hear his words, a feeling that you could only describe as odd, unfamiliar. The brunette smiles brightly at you, treating the whole situation like every casual interaction between you two— but his grin falters.
A slight glint blooms in your round eyes, catching his attention, making them strikingly shiny, like a deer in the headlights. He clings to the sight, checking it as his new favorite view.
A tension knots itself in the air, like a tight thread that snakes around you both to draw you flushed. But it's not the kind of pressure that sits still on your shoulders, burdening them with heaviness. Not the type that felt like a plague, but rather as a swarm of butterflies that left feverish tingles in its path.
Not the kind that encages your heart— the kind that sets it free.
You try to push it down, digg it at the bottom of your mind, but it quickly found itself a way out. Smiling warmly, you decide to focus your attention on the other two boys that were walking towards you, still dazzled by the whole interaction with Chris.
But he kept his eyes on you, lingering and observant, not letting the pink hue that beautifully painted your cheeks slip his attention. He bit his lip, heart swelling with hope and confidence at only the tought of him carrying out the plan.
And with that, he could check the first task as done.
whaaaat do you say guys???🥹
· ׁً💌 : @sturniolofruitloop ࿔ @sofisturns ࿔ @courta13 ࿔ @ivysturnss ࿔ @matts-wife ࿔ @loser41ifee ࿔ @saintmentor ࿔ @norahsturns ࿔ @chrxsprettygirl ࿔ @sturnspup ࿔ @chrisissos3xy ࿔ @lyingonchris ࿔ @hamzahsn1gf ࿔ @le4hsblog ࿔ @sturniszn ࿔ @matts-babytomatoes ࿔ @sturnsobsessed21 ࿔ @iwishihadmatthewsturniolo ࿔ @meatballlover10 ࿔ @oopsiedaisydeer ࿔ @h3arts4nat ࿔ @clairo4life ࿔ @neverstopthekashh ࿔ @everythingaboutbags ࿔ @pair-of-pantaloons ࿔ @sturniqlo ࿔ @angel-sturn1 ࿔ @sturnsblogs
tag game! in collaboration with @mattsdivaa 🌸
find an outfit, the décor, and which triplet you’d bring to said party !!
no pressure tags!! @backwardshatnick @privatelyowned-t @lyingonchris @eyesonmattyb @stevielovesmatt @heartsonlyforchris @thechratt-twins @mattslilies @mattspuppyy @vanteguccir @oopsiedaisydeer @sturnsblogs @strnilolover @viviansturns @aaliyah-sturns @sturns-mermaid @endereies + anyone who wants to join in 🩷
Outfit, decor, triplet !!
No pressure tags !! @sturnsblogs @xsturnkay @cherrystainss @kenah-sturniolo @mattspillowprincess @httpssturns + whoever wants to join !! 🤍
ty for the tag love<3
💌: @sturniphone @delilahsturniolo @sturniqlo @oopsiedaisydeer @le4hsblog + anyone who wants to join!💗
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ random texts between dealer!chris && sunshine!reader . ❀ ݁ ˖
warnings:: fluffy! a lil angst and mentions of holding dick, ig??😭
i think i wanna edge u more on the twlf series...heh...🙂↕️
· ׁً📮 ::: @sturniolofruitloop ࿔ @sofisturns ࿔ @courta13 ࿔ @ivysturnss ࿔ @matts-wife ࿔ @loser41ifee ࿔ @saintmentor ࿔ @norahsturns ࿔ @chrxsprettygirl ࿔ @sturnspup ࿔ @chrisissos3xy ࿔ @lyingonchris ࿔ @hamzahsn1gf ࿔ @le4hsblog ࿔ @sturniszn ࿔ @matts-babytomatoes ࿔ @sturnsobsessed21 ࿔ @iwishihadmatthewsturniolo ࿔ @meatballlover10 ࿔ @oopsiedaisydeer ࿔ @h3arts4nat ࿔ @clairo4life ࿔ @neverstopthekashh ࿔ @everythingaboutbags ࿔ @pair-of-pantaloons ࿔ @sturniqlo ࿔ @angel-sturn1
soo let’s say matt has a girlfriend but she can’t give head due to her mouth being to small and medical problems that make her mouth INSANELY dry..do we think he’d breakup with her or do you think he just wouldn’t care?
ugh i love these questions so much. it gets my brain working and i’m actually pulled into deep reflection. even though the question is about matt, it makes me get to know myself better while diving through millions of thoughts. so, thank you for asking!!!
talking from my own personal point of view, i don’t see matt as a person that focuses an immense amount of his energy and mind on ‘bedroom’ things. of course, he is indeed a person that values intimacy and closeness, but he’d just do it in the many other ways he can!
instead of receiving head, i think he’d much rather have his thoughts heard and understood, his hand held and his emotions seen— basically to have someone he could count onto!
and to answer your question directly, no, i don’t think he’d care that much. he’d maybe feel the tiniest, slight bit of disappointment, maybe discouragement that it’d be an issue for them to get closer—but he’d immediately brush it off, doing his best to replace that feeling with compassion.
out there are tons of ways to provide your partner pleasure, to build up intimacy around your relationship. giving head is one of them, yes, but it’s not the only way! and matt is fully aware of that.
if any of you are struggling with something similar, just so you know, you are not less worthy or unloveable! you deserve to be cherished and valued! intimacy and affection is shown everyday, at any moment, not just through one act!
y’all…first chapter of TWLF tonight?🫢
YESZZSS
nah:\
