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dom!reader makes sub!chris cum in his pants from just a little bit of dry riding
smut, kissing, dry humping, male orgasm, use of “good boy” as a pet name, cursing, degradation, all consensual
wc: 2.1k
you and chris were in his bedroom, sitting on his bed as you watched a random movie you weren’t really paying attention to. he had his arm around you, your head resting on his chest.
you tilt your head up, resting your chin on his chest as your eyes locked on his. he glanced down at you, a smile pulling at his lips.
“what, baby?” he asks. you climbed onto his lap, and his hands grabbed your hips instantly, like a magnetic force drew them together.
“you’re just so perfect.” you grin, your hands resting on his cheeks.
chris groaned. the way you said that was almost too perfect, and he could feel himself getting hard already.
“you're gonna make me cry,” he smirked, a small huff of laughter escaping him as he buried his face in your neck. “say it again,” he mumbled into your skin.
“what a baby.” you smirk, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at you. he let out a low, embarrassed grumble. yeah, okay, he was being a crybaby right now and he knew it. he let you manhandle him, staring up at you with a pout on his face.
“shut up,” he muttered, eyes narrowing at you.
“such a little baby.” you repeat, your tone almost condescending as your fingers tighten on his jaw. chris's cheeks burned at your words, he couldn't help but get even more worked up at the way you were talking to him.
“m'not,” he protested petulantly, trying not to get distracted by the way you were holding his face.
your fingers gripped his jaw even tighter, forcing his head up to give yourself access to his neck. your lips latch onto his throat, sucking hard.
chris groaned as your mouth latched onto his neck. he tilted his chin obediently to the side to give you more room, his entire body going slack on the spot. he brought his own hands up to grab at your waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt like an anchor.
your lips leave his neck after a moment with a wet pop, leaving a dark purple and red mark on his skin.
“such a whiny boy,” you whisper into his ear, your teeth grazing his earlobe.
he shuddered, his fingers digging harder into your waist at your words and the feeling of your mouth against his skin. he couldn't help the way he whimpered at the feeling of you biting his ear, his own voice coming out shaky and rough.
“m'not- not whiny,” he protested weakly.
“sooo fuckin’ whiny,” you breathe, your fingers shifting up and tugging on his hair. chris let out a helpless moan as you tugged on his hair, his head tilting back instinctively. he was already breathless, and you'd only been playing with him for a minute.
“i-“ he started to protest, his breath catching in his throat. “i'm not that whiny-“
“be a good boy and admit you’re a whiny little mess for me.” you practically growl. you didn’t even know that you could get this dominant, but you definitely enjoyed when chris got submissive like this.
chris let out a strangled noise at the tone of your voice, his head going fuzzy with your words. he wanted so so bad to be good for you, to be your good boy.
“i- i'm a whiny little mess,” he admitted finally, his voice raw as he folded almost instantly.
“good boy,” you coo in a hushed, low voice. he almost whined at your praise, practically melting against you now. he could already feel his eyes starting to water a little bit as his cock throbbed painfully in his pants, now fully hard.
“i’m your good boy…” he panted, his fingers gripping your waist desperately.
“yeah?” you whisper, looking down at him. your eyes were dark and intense. the look in your eyes was enough to make chris shiver. he was already feeling completely overwhelmed by you right now, and the way you watched him was only making things worse.
a smirk pulls at your lips. “you like being my good boy? you like being obedient for me, baby?” you ask smugly.
chris could barely think clearly when you said things like that to him, his whole face felt like it was on fire. but he also knew that there was no use in denying it, so he swallowed hard before nodding timidly.
“yes,” he whimpered finally, keeping his eyes locked onto yours. “wanna be good for ya.”
“so pathetic.” you whisper, yours fingers carding through his hair. chris whimpered at the way you called him pathetic, his entire body reacting to your touch. his grip on your waist tightened slightly. he couldn't even bring himself to protest now, too busy trying not to melt into a puddle under you.
“y- yeah,” he mumbled out in agreement, voice rough with need. his eyes flickered shut for just a second as he let out another soft sigh of contentment when your fingers carded through his hair again.
chris's head was spinning right now, he felt like he was losing his mind under your touch, his head tilting automatically to lean into your hand even more. he managed to open his eyes enough to look at you again, his expression soft and vulnerable.
“m' your pathetic good boy,” he stated quietly, almost like it was a plea.
“mmm, you are.” you grin, pressing your lips to his. you push him back gently, laying him down on his bed. chris let out a soft, startled noise as you kissed him and pushed him back, his hands flying up to grip your shoulders for balance. he didn’t even try to resist, just let himself be manhandled onto the bed beneath you with a dazed expression.
“fuck,” he breathed out against your lips when the kiss broke slightly. “y/n-“
his entire body was already flushed from how worked up he was getting again so soon after everything that had just happened between you two. you grab his wrists, pinning his arms above his head.
chris whimpered as you pinned his wrists easily to the bed, his hands clenching into fists above him. he was a stronger guy, but he'd always been willing to be submissive in bed, he’d just never mentioned it. he was completely at your mercy right now and he knew it. he loved it.
“y/n- oh, god…” he breathed out quietly again, eyes widening a little at how easily you'd put him in his place.
“shhh...” you hush, your free hand going to his hip as you straddle him. chris closed his mouth obediently, his hips twitching against yours when your hand went to his hip. he was already coming undone beneath you, completely submitting to you without a second thought.
he was so hard now that it was becoming almost painful, and the friction from your bodies together only made things worse. his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to get it together as you straddled him, his voice coming out choked and desperate.
“y- y/n... need you…” he pants desperately. “you want friction?” you ask. “huh?”
chris let out an incoherent whimper at your words, his hips rolling up against yours as if to prove his point. he tried to answer you, but all that came out was a strained, half-broken noise before he croaked out:
“please,” he whined. “please, need it.” “then you’re gonna have to get it yourself.” you growl smugly.
chris's entire body locked up in shock, his eyes snapping open to stare at you with pure disbelief.
“w- what?” he choked out, voice cracking as he processed your words. his hips bucked helplessly against yours anyway, desperate for the friction even though you'd just told him not to.
“y/n,” he pleaded again, sounding wrecked already. “i c- can't- “ he whined. “yes you can, baby.” you murmur. “c’mon, you can do it.”
chris swallowed hard, your words hitting him like a shock of electricity. he'd never been so turned on in his life. he started to nod shakily, hips lifting off the bed to grind against yours helplessly.
“jesus,” he choked out, cheeks burning as he realized how pathetically compliant he was being. “m- m' being a good boy,” he babbled desperately, his eyes locked onto you. “right?”
“such a good boy for me.” you murmur, one hand petting his cheek as he tries his hardest to get friction. chris shook at the way you praised him, his entire body going slack for a second as he whimpered out loud. his hips stuttered against yours, completely overwhelmed.
“m'- y- yeah,” he choked out, voice wrecked beyond belief now. “g- good boy for you...”
he was so far gone that tears were practically pricking at the corners of his eyes from how much this was getting to him. you watch as he grinds against your pussy through your clothes, he looked absolutely wrecked.
“god, when you post those slutty pictures on your instagram, they make me wet.” you murmur, my fingers trailing down his neck. “the way you lift your arm up so we can see your underwear peeking out. such a slut.” you whisper, knowing how worked up this admission would get him.
chris sobbed at your words. he'd always taken pride in being hot, and he loved when girls appreciated his photos, but having you tell him how much you liked them like this was something else entirely. he'd take a thousand photos of himself in just his underwear if it meant you'd react like this every time.
“only for you,” he pleaded, voice raw. “m' just your needy little slut.”
“so slutty…” you whisper, watching him hump against your clothed core. “you look like you’re already about to cum in your pants, baby.” you whisper.
chris's voice got caught in his throat as you continued to talk to him like this, his hips stuttering against you again. he looked completely dazed, like he was barely even aware of what he was doing anymore. he was so lost in the feeling of you straddling him, your words, everything about you, that all he could manage was a strangled, broken whimper.
“‘s not m- my fault,” he finally choked out, voice shaking. he was close to crying for real now. “you made me like this...”
“so pathetic…” you smirk, your fingers gripping his dark locks, giving them the occasional tug. he shivered violently as you did that, his entire body going stiff beneath you. he was so close now, he could already feel the tension coiling in his stomach, hips jerking up against yours helplessly.
“y- y/n,” chris sobbed out your name like a prayer, hands clenching into fists on the bed beside him. “fuck- i- i'm gonna cum if ya keep talkin' to me like this,” he warned shakily between panting breaths.
you still had his hands pinned on the bed above his head as he dry humped you from under. you decide to grind down on him just once. he moaned as you ground down on him, his back arching off the bed violently, his entire body seizing up in pure overstimulated bliss.
chris came instantly, hips stuttering against yours as he spilled into his pants with a choked sob.
“fuck, fuck- fuck!-“ he babbled mindlessly, eyes rolling back for a second before they fluttered open again to stare at you in dazed disbelief. his chest was heaving like crazy now, sweat beading on his forehead from how hard and fast that had hit him.
you grin wickedly as you watch him literally cum in his pants, the sight of his eyes rolling back and hips jerking up making your ego swell. chris whimpered at your gaze, his entire body still twitching from the aftershocks of his orgasm.
he looked up at you with a mix of humiliation and pure need, his cheeks burning red as he realized how pathetic he must seem right now.
“m'- m’- fuck… ngh,” he stammered out shakily, hips giving one last involuntary jerk against yours. his hands flexed weakly where they were still pinned above him like they wanted to reach for you but didn't dare move without permission.
“good boy.” you praise with a smile, pressing your lips to his forehead before dismounting his lap. you sat down on the edge of his bed, watching him pant from his spent position.
“you’re evil.” he mutters, grabbing your hand and giving it a weak kiss.
okay guys I’ve officially decided to no longer post until the summer…if you could not tell, I’ve been starting an au.. then forgetting about it and I’m not able to find the time for it. I don’t wanna be unreliable over the summer, so I think I’m gonna start half of in my drafts already soon!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
dealer!chris x sweetheart!bunny ⋮ part of mini-series
⤷ previous part
in which . . . bunny and chris go on another date, only for a heavy storm to change their plans. with rain warnings forcing bunny to stay the night at chris’s place, long-buried feelings resurface and confessions slip out that make it harder than ever to ignore what still exists between them . . .
warnings . . . explicit sexual content (smut), sexual intimacy, past relationship trauma, past substance abuse/addiction, past emotional distress/heartbreak, slight breakup trauma
author’s note . . . i didn’t create dealer!chris or sweetheart!bunny. this is just my personal interpretation of them. full credit to whoever originally came up with them. comment for series taglist here !!
Chris and Bunny had gone on another date, and the storm outside had turned the streets to muddy and wet. Chris had hesitated before offering for her to stay over at his apartment, careful with his words, careful with her.
She could hear the nerves under his casual tone. And he caught the way her eyes lingered, the way her shoulders stiffened just a little, and he was quick to add, “Hey, you don’t have to stay if you’re not comfortable. I can drive you home right now. Seriously.”
Bunny turned to him, surprised by the softness in his voice.
“I’ve got work in the morning anyway,” he continued, rubbing his palms together. “If you stay, I can drop you off early so you make it to class.”
There it was again—him thinking two steps ahead for her.
Eventually Bunny caved, and agreed to staying. Making it to her apartment would be a hassle with the storm warning.
That’s how she ended up at his door. “Wow… this is really nice, Chris,” Bunny murmured as she stepped inside his apartment.
“Thanks,” he said, shutting the door behind them. “It’s nothing crazy, but it works for just me. And—uh—don’t mind the mess.”
“No, no,” she said gently, slipping off her wet shoes by the door. “It’s really nice. I promise.”
She wandered farther in, fingers brushing over the little things scattered around the apartment. It felt lived-in. Comfortable. Him. Framed photos, stacked books, a hoodie tossed over the back of a chair like he’d shrugged it off without thinking.
Her eyes landed on the shelf by the TV, and she laughed softly.
“Are those… Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”
Chris groaned. “Don’t start.”
She picked one up, turning it in her hand. “You’re such a dork,” she teased, smiling over her shoulder at him.
He watched her like he couldn’t quite believe this was real—her in his space, laughing like she used to. “Hey, those have been with me forever,” he said. “Emotional support turtles.”
She laughed again, and something in his chest loosened.
“You kept all your old stuff,” she noted quietly.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Couldn’t really bring myself to get rid of it.”
Their eyes met, and Chris cleared his throat. “You want something warm? Tea, hot chocolate… I think I’ve got both.”
She shook her head, smiling softly. “No, I’m alright. Dinner was pretty heavy.”
“Okay,” he nodded, and gestured toward the couch. “You should sit.”
Bunny smiled and moved toward the couch, curling one leg beneath her. Chris hovered for a second before sitting down at the opposite end, leaving a careful space between them.
Bunny noticed the space between them. “You don’t have to sit all the way over there,” she said gently.
“Sorry,” he murmured, glancing at her with a faint flush of embarrassment. “God, I—I really do apologize if I’m acting strange,” he admitted quietly. “I just… I haven’t had anyone here besides Matt and Nick.”
“Really?” she lifted a brow. “I don’t know why that surprises me. You don’t invite friends over or anything?”
He huffed a small, humorless laugh. “If by friends you mean the thirty- or forty-year-old guys I work with, then no.”
That pulled a real laugh out of her. “Oh my god, no. I meant like… I don’t know. Guys from high school or something.”
Chris shrugged, gaze dropping to his hands. “Nah, Bun. I don’t really talk to those guys anymore.” He let out a slow breath. “They didn’t take me stepping away from dealing very well.”
Her smile faded, understanding. She turned slightly toward him. “I figured.”
“It was easier for them when I was the same mess they were,” he continued, quieter now. “When I got stepped away, that shit made them uncomfortable.”
Bunny reached out before she could overthink it, her fingers brushing his wrist. “That doesn’t mean you lost people,” she said gently. “It just means you outgrew them.”
He swallowed, the words slipping out before he could stop himself. “Then how come I never outgrew you?” The second it landed, he froze. Fuck. “Sorry,” he added quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “That was— I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
But Bunny didn’t pull her hand back.
Instead, she looked at him with a grin that felt familiar in the most dangerous way. “Maybe you’re just whipped,” she said lightly, trying to keep it playful. “I mean… I wouldn’t forget me either.”
She flipped her hair back with exaggerated confidence, and Chris laughed—really laughed. The sound filled the room, and just like that, the tension melted away.
“God, there she is,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “I missed that.”
“Missed what?” she asked, pretending innocence.
“You,” he said simply. “The way you say the dumbest shit, and somehow it always makes me laugh.”
Bunny was still riding the tail end of her own laughter. They lingered there for a moment, just looking at each other, smiles soft and unguarded, as the years between them had quietly dissolved.
She tilted her head, eyes flicking around the apartment. “You sure you haven’t had anyone in this place?”
Chris lifted a brow. “Besides my family? Just you and a plumber.”
“Ooo,” Bunny wiggled her eyebrows, leaning back into the couch. “What kinda relationship do you have with your plumber?”
“You’re such a child.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Making me regret letting you in.”
She burst out laughing, and Chris felt his smile stretch without him even trying. God—he’d missed that sound. When her laughter finally faded, she shrugged, as if the question that followed didn’t matter at all.
“So… what, you’re telling me you don’t have girls over or something?”
Chris paused, then a slow smirk tugged at his mouth. “Now wouldn’t you love to know, Bun.”
She rolled her eyes, forcing a careless tone. “I’m just asking. I mean, it’d make sense to, y’know… show off a nice apartment.” Her voice trailed, words tripping over each other. Even she knew it sounded thin.
But Chris had always been able to read her too well.
He leaned back slightly, eyes soft but sharp, studying her face. “Does that bother you, Bunny?”
Her fingers stilled where they rested on the cushion. “I didn’t say that,” she murmured, eyes fixed ahead. “I was just wondering.” The words rushed out after. “God forbid, I’m curious.” Fuck. She was cornered, and she knew it.
Chris hummed, a low sound in his chest, then let out a half-laugh, half-scoff. “No, Bunny,” he said gently. “I haven’t brought any woman in here before.”
“Oh.” She nodded a little too fast, forcing ease into her voice. “Cool. That’s… cool.”
“Bunny.”
“What?”
He turned fully toward her now, seriousness settling in his features. “I haven’t been with another woman since you.”
Her heart stuttered, then raced. Heat crept up her neck. “I—” she swallowed, scrambling for composure. “Cool. I mean… it’s your life. You’re allowed to do whatever you want. You’re a grown man.” The sentence clearly cost her something.
“I am,” he agreed quietly. “But I was busy.” He paused, eyes searching her face. “And I wasn’t interested in anyone else.”
“Oh.” She kept her gaze forward, schooling her expression, even though relief bloomed warm in her chest. She didn’t want him to see how much that mattered to her.
Silence stretched between them, soft and fragile, until Chris cleared his throat.
“And you?”
She turned slightly. “What?”
“You, uh…” he shifted on the couch, trying for casual and not quite pulling it off. “Did you date anyone? Or…anything like that.”
Bunny hesitated. She could lie. It would be easier. “I had one… boyfriend,” But she decided not to.
Bunny caught it then. The way his jaw tightened for just a second, the way he lifted his brows and nodded slowly, like he was pretending it didn’t land the way it did.
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah. Okay.” He leaned back, arms folding loosely. “How long was that?”
“Not long,” she replied. “A few months.”
He nodded, once. “College guy?”
“Yeah.”
There was a brief pause, and then—too fast, like the thought slipped out before he could stop it. “Serious?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“How’d you meet?” he added, clearing his throat right after, like he hadn’t meant to ask. God. Smooth. The air shifted awkwardly.
“Uh,” Bunny started, shrugging slightly. “Third year. He was pre-med. We had a couple overlapping courses—anatomy, labs, stuff like that.”
Chris hummed lowly, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment. He forced himself to stay relaxed, even though something tight curled in his chest. It wasn’t anger. He didn’t feel threatened. It was just this dull, aching jealousy knowing someone else had been there in the years he should’ve been the one taking care of her.
“Pre-med, huh,” he said, attempting casual. “Guess he had to be pretty smart then.”
“Yeah,” she smiled faintly. “He was.”
Another beat passed. Chris shifted a little closer without even realizing he’d done it. “So… why didn’t it work?”
Bunny let out a small airy laugh. She lifted a shoulder in a shrug, eyes dropping to her hands. “It just… didn’t.” She didn’t elaborate. She hoped she wouldn’t have to.
Chris caught it immediately, so he nodded once, backing off without pushing. “Alright, alright,” he said lightly, a faint chuckle slipping out. “I see.” Chris rubbed his palms together. “Sorry,” he added after a moment. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay,” Bunny said quickly. “Really. I guess we’re both just… relearning each other.”
Chris smiled at that, small but genuine. “Hey—are you cold?” he asked, already moving toward the thermostat. “I’ll turn the heat up.”
He twisted the dial.
Nothing.
“What—?” he muttered, tapping it once, then again.
And then, all at once, the apartment went dark. Bunny sucked in a sharp breath. “Did the power just—”
“Yeah,” Chris said, already reaching for his phone. He unlocked it, the screen casting a faint glow across the room. “The storm's been getting worse all night. ”
Another rumble of thunder followed, louder this time. The windows rattled slightly.
Bunny wrapped her arms around herself, more out of instinct than fear. “Of course,” she murmured. “One night I’m here.”
Chris glanced back at her, his expression softening almost immediately. “I know, I’m sorry, Bun,” he said gently. “Fuck—let me see what I can do.”
He disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging through a drawer before reappearing with a small bundle of stick candles. One by one, he lit them and placed them around the apartment until the space filled with a flickering glow. He brought one last candle over and set it near the couch, between them.
Chris slipped into his bedroom and came back with a throw blanket, holding it out to her. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Bunny said, accepting it and draping it over her shoulders.
He sat back down with a small huff. “I wish I could throw on a show or something,” he muttered. “But I don’t have anything downloaded. Netflix is useless without power.”
“It’s okay,” she smiled. “I don’t mind.”
She adjusted the blanket, the candlelight catching in her eyes. “You know what this kind of reminds me of, though?”
He looked at her. “What?”
“That time in high school,” she said, her voice turning fond, “when we snuck out after school without telling my parents. It started storming like this, the power went out, traffic was insane…” She laughed softly. “And I dropped my wallet.”
Chris let out a quiet chuckle, the memory landing all at once. “I ran back into the rain like an idiot.”
“You didn’t even hesitate,” Bunny added, smiling at him. “You just took off down the street.”
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “Soaked my shoes. Completely ruined that hoodie.”
Bunny laughed, an actual laugh this time. “God, my parents were so mad.” She smiled to herself. “I remember my dad lecturing me for like twenty minutes, and I was still smiling the whole time because I’d had so much fun.”
Chris laughed with her. “We were so young,” he said. “What—fifteen and sixteen?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” After a beat, she added softly, “I actually really liked my teenage years.”
He glanced at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nodded again, then scoffed lightly at herself. “I just don’t think I appreciated how young and carefree everything was while I was in it.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I was so focused on getting into college, doing everything right… I didn’t really stop to take some moments in.”
Chris watched her, something tender settling in his chest. “You were always like that,” he said gently. “Always thinking five steps ahead.”
She smiled faintly. “Someone had to.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “And I think… I kind of loved that about you.”
The rain outside picked up again, drumming against the windows, the candle between them flickering. Bunny looked up at him then, caught in the warmth of the moment, the past and present blurring together.
“We were kids,” she said quietly. “Now… Everything feels so hard. Like I’m constantly trying to figure things out on my own. You know?”
Chris nodded, understanding settling easily on his face. “Yeah,” he said. “This world’s brutal. It takes a lot just to stay successful. Let alone actually make something of yourself.”
“But you did,” Bunny said, looking at him. “You’re successful.”
He shrugged, though he shifted a little closer without realizing it. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But compared to you? I don’t know. You went to college, Bun. That’s… huge.”
“College doesn’t define you,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Don’t downplay yourself, Chris. You rebuilt your life—you came back from everything.”
“I guess… maybe.” He gave a small shrug, his fingers brushing the edge of the couch. “What about you? What’s next after you graduate?”
Bunny hesitated for a moment, then smiled faintly. “Well… work, first. But I’m actually starting a master’s program in September. I’m planning to specialize.”
Chris’s eyes widened, genuine surprise breaking across his face. “Wait… what? Bun? That’s huge.”
She nodded, biting her lip a little. “I know… I can’t believe it either. I just need to finish my thesis, and then I’m set.”
“And… your topic?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, curiosity edging his tone.
Bunny took a slow breath, choosing her words carefully. “I’m focusing on… understanding the molecular changes associated with addiction and recovery.” She watched him closely, noting the shift in his expression. “I’m… specializing in rehabilitation.”
Chris leaned back for a moment, letting her words sink in. “Rehabilitation…” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. “That’s… literally helping people… people who were in my position.”
Bunny nodded slowly, unsure what to say. She hadn’t realized how heavy the truth of it sounded aloud. Earlier that year, long before she met Chris again, she had decided that rehab would be her specialty. It wasn’t just a career choice, it was a silly hope that maybe one day she could help him, even if she never got the chance.
“I know that sounds weird,” she said quickly, fidgeting with the edge of the throw blanket. “I promise I wasn’t… like… stalking you or doing research on you or anything.”
Chris let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I didn’t think that…” He hesitated, eyes flicking to hers with a mix of awe and disbelief. “I actually… I can’t believe you’d take the time to… do that… because of me.”
Bunny’s chest tightened, the warmth of his words and the sincerity in his voice making her stomach flutter.
“It wasn’t just for you,” she said quietly, almost a whisper. “It’s… it’s just part of why I love this. But… yeah… I guess a little of it was always hoping I could help you, even if you didn’t know it.”
Chris’s eyes softened as he looked at her, taking in every flicker of emotion in her gaze. There was so much history there.
Love.
Regret.
Longing.
His hand hovered near hers for a moment, hesitant, before resting lightly on the edge of the blanket. Bunny lifted the throw so that now they were both tucked under it. Their thighs brushed immediately.
“Bun…”
“Yeah?”
“I—” he paused, searching for words that couldn’t quite capture the surge of everything he felt. Bunny’s hand drifted, almost unconsciously, brushing against his arm.
Chris’s gaze didn’t leave hers, deep and steady, and in that quiet moment, all the years apart seemed to melt away.
Slowly, almost as if it had always been inevitable.
Their lips clashed.
One moment, they were sitting side by side; the next, Bunny found herself straddling Chris’s lap. Meanwhile, his hand woved into her hair, pulling her closer.
Chris’s other hand rested lightly on her waist, fingers pressing just enough to let her know he was there, fully present.
Bunny’s heart raced, every nerve alive with the electric charge of being so close to him again. She could feel the beat of his chest beneath her, the warmth of him seeping through her own skin.
Chris tilted his head slightly, lips hovering near hers. “Bun…” His voice was low. “God…you taste exactly how I remember.”
Bunny’s breath hitched, her hands curling into his shirt as the closeness overwhelmed her. Heat and need started to pool between her legs.
“C-chris…”
He pulled back just enough to look at her. “Do you want me to stop?”
Her answer came without hesitation. She shook her head, eyes dark, steady. “Don’t.”
That was all he needed. He kissed her again, deeper this time, and shifted them until she was resting back against the cushions and he hovered over her, bracing himself on his forearms. Her sweatpants came off with ease.
His hand rubbed against her panties. “Fuck… your soaking through these bun.” His fingers pull the fabric down. Now slick with her juices he drags a finger down slowly, causing Bunny to immediately react with a loud whimper.
Bunny’s hips start to move on their own, trying to feel more of his hands.
“Greedy, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Chris’s hot breath fanned against her ears. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out, no need to move.”
Chris spread her legs apart. He couldn’t see her folds properly due to the dark, but he knew his anatomy enough to figure it out himself. Especially her anatomy.
“M–more… Please…need—”
She couldn’t even finish her sentence before Chris’s fingers shoved into her. Knuckles deep. His fingers worked in and out of her, eliciting loud gasps and moans from her mouth. Gosh… she almost forgot his good any part of Chris had felt inside of her.
Chris, on the other hand, was enjoying this way too much. He wasn’t getting any action, but just watching the faint lines of her face and hearing the sounds of her desperate pleas was enough to get him off.
Suddenly, Bunny felt his fingers disappear.
“Chris—”
His lips were on her clit, before she could even question it and that caused the loudest moan of tonight. Chris smiled against her skin, like muscle memory had taken over. Even after all these’s year he could remember exactly got her going.
Her back arched off the couch as Chris stuck his tongue between her folds. Bunny could feel the vibrations of Chris’s groans against her.
“There’s nobody like you, Bun…” His voice was hushed as his head went deeper between Bunny’s legs. Pleasure was coursing through her body. “Nobody… could ever replace you, baby, you hear me?”
She nodded, half agreeing, half chasing the feeling of his tongue lapping her folds.
“Just as perfect as I remember.” Chris’s hands continued to rub her thighs before he moved them to the hem of Bunny’s shirt. “Can I take these off bun?”
At this point, Bunny was so far gone that all she could give was a weak nod.
Chris began removing his shirt, then hers, leaving Bunny in your bra. Which he didn’t leave on, immediately unclasping it and letting it fall somewhere.
“So, so beautiful.” He gently pressed a kiss to each of her tits. “Fuck baby.”
“P—please…” Bunny moaned in desperation. “I…I need you—In me, please—”
Chris slowly pulled away, nodding as he began undoing his belt. His jeans were soon discarded and tossed somewhere along with Bunny’s underwear and bra. His length was similar to what she remembered… she didn’t know if she was hallucinating, but she could swear it was girthier.
Chris smiled at her. His face was full of love and desire. He connected his lips to hers for a brief second before looking her in the eyes.
“Ready?”
Bunny nodded.
She was more than ready by now.
Chris took hold of her hand and gently held her in place, so she was more comfortable.
They both moaned as Chris’s dick entered her pussy, the years of yearning releasing with that one push. Chris was slow at first, not wanting to hurt her as she got used to the size.
\
“God baby,” He groans, head falling back for a second before his eyes snap to her. “So tight… I gotta stretch you out, huh?” He grips her hip harder, dragging Bunny down to take him in deeper.
Bunny buries her face into the side of Chris’s neck, letting out cries of pleasure. Chris knew the body like the back of his hand. Bunny could feel it. He hit all the right spots and knew exactly when to fasten or slowen his pace.
Chris, on the other hand, felt like he was on cloud nine. He hadn’t fucked anyone since his breakup with Bunny. So coming back to her felt like home. It felt right. He truly believed no one deserved his body other than her. Believing that he had always been hers.
Each thrust was the absence of the past four years being fulfilled. They moved together like no time had passed, each seeking release in the other. Bodies fitting like a puzzle.
Chris looked into her eyes. “Doing s’good for me sweetheart..” He muttered in her neck. He loved watched the way her face reacted to ever thrust.
“So” —thrust— “fucking” —thrust— “sorry, Bun—”
His words came out broken, and unable to what he wanted to say. His moments starts to grow sloppier.
“I’ll never hurt you again, I fucking promise.”
Chris started to move faster.
“Chris... I'm gonna come—” Bunny managed to speak through the pleasure. Her back started to arch against the bed, and her stomach started to feel the tight knot about to burst.
With one final brutal thrust, their orgasms came crashing down, releasing their high.
When it was over, Chris didn’t pull away. He stayed right there, forehead resting against hers, breath still uneven as his hands cradled her like she might slip away if he loosened his grip.
“Hey,” he murmured, brushing her hair back, thumb gentle against her cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?”
Bunny nodded, still catching her breath. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.”
He let out a quiet breath of relief and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, then another to her temple. Drawing her against his chest, he wrapped the blanket around them both like a shield.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly. “I’m right here.” She melted into him, listening to his heartbeat. “You’re mine, Bunny. And I don’t mean that selfishly—I choose you. I always have.”
Her throat tightened.
“I’m not running this time,” he continued, voice steady but full of feeling. “I’m ready to give you what you deserved back then and what you deserve now. All of it.”
She searched his face, finding nothing but certainty.
a notification from your phone causes your screen to light up. you pause the show you have on and take a look. you read the name and let out a groan throwing your head on the back of the couch.
chris sturniolo: yo, you’re going the new year’s party right?
he couldn’t be fucking serious right?
you: are you gonna be there?
chris sturniolo:well duh. wouldn’t be asking if i wasn’t
you: then i’m not :)
chris sturniolo: oh cmon ma, don’t be stubborn
you: i’m definitely not going now
chris sturniolo: if i apologise will you come?
your fingers hovered over the keyboard. why did he want you to go so bad? what difference was that going to make? you never entertained him at these parties so why did he give a fuck?
you: maybe. do it and find out
chris sturniolo: ‘m sorry for saying your stubborn. will you come to the party now?
you: hmmm. i’ll think about it
chris sturniolo reacted with 😑
of course you were going to the party, it’s new years, you’d be crazy not to. you’re sitting at your vanity getting ready with your friend whilst she talks about the date nathan brought her on the other week.
your half zoned out but nodding every 20 seconds seemed to do the trick.
bing ˎˊ˗
your phone lights up. chris sturniolo sent a message
you sigh out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and open your phone.
chris sturniolo: see you tonight ma 😉
+1
chris sturniolo: send a fit check
you shake your head and place your phone down and finish off your hair. after your done you move to the bathroom checking your whole outfit in the mirror. the message from chris still open.
you bite your lip debating to yourself if this would just feed into him if you’re easy or not. fuck it. it’s just a fit check that means nothing.
one attachment
chris sturniolo: shiiiiitttt, you look good.
was he joking? when the fuck do he get this nice.
you: i know.
chris sturniolo reacted with 👅
you roll your eyes and head out of the bathroom to your room, spraying perfume and leaving.
the party is already in full swing, people yelling, playing beer pong, shots on the kitchen counter, bathrooms with moans flowing from them. the usual party behaviour.
you shuffle your way over to the kitchen, sorry’s and excuse me’s slipping from your lips as you swivel your way between the crowd.
you finally reach the ‘drink station’ and grab a red solo cup. you bend across the counter to grab the litre of vodka from the other side.
“wow, didn’t think i’d be getting a nice view this quickly” you straighten yourself up, holding your cup and drink before slowly turning around.
chris. of course.
you roll your eyes and turn back to making your drink. chris slides himself beside you, elbow on the counter, toothpick in between his teeth.
“don’t fall too head over heels now christopher” you say, not looking up from your cup as the alcohol spills from the bottle into your cup.
he scoffs, “how could i resist such a sight?” you furrow your brows and look up at him, “is this a trick just to get into my pants tonight.”
“no ma, but if you were offering— i’d be a fool to say no” he puts his hands up in defence. you shake your head, now pouring in the mixer of juice into your cup.
“i’m sure you would be considering it seems hard for you to say no to every other girl that breathes” you sip from your drink, giving him a look from over the rim of your cup.
he rolls his head back with a groan. “i’ll have you know last time i got laid was the party you caught me at” he adds. “that was two weeks ago.” you laugh.
“yeah and? i usually get one every night. just couldn’t resist a pretty thing like you.” he brushes a hair behind your ear with a smile. your body slightly tenses at the action.
you take a gulp of your drink, keeping your hand on it and putting it on the counter. “okay chr—-” you’re interrupted with everyone yelling about the countdown to new years.
you shuffle your way through the crowd to find your friend. the whole room watches the tv hanging on the wall countdown from 10.
9..
8..
7..
6..
5..
4..
3.. you feel a presence behind you
2.. a hand is on your wrist
1.. you’re pulled to turn around
and that’s when he kisses you.
chris.
he slides your hand to wrap around his neck, his finding your waist. his mouth moves against yours in a slow rhythm, tongue prodding at your lip to ask for access.
both your hands move to his jaw as your mouths move together in sync. you don’t even hear all the cheers from the countdown. the whole room going silent.
you pull away and look at him. he has the smug look on his face.
“not so untouchable” he smiles, squeezing your waist.
smut, kinda rough(??), slight degradation, missionary, p in v, cursing
chris was pounding into you, hard. his hands gripped your waist firmly, his face buried into the crook of your neck as low grunts and moans fell past his lips.
your mind was hazy, the only thing you were able to do was lay there and take it and chris thrusted in and out of you.
“chris, fuck,” you gasped, “so good.”
he smirked, pressing a few kisses to your neck and looping at the skin. “yeah? it’s that good you can barely talk?”
you nodded desperately, your nails scratching at his back, marking his flesh with dark red lines. the pain burned in the best way, sending a wave of pleasure through chris’s body, sending him into overdrive as he fucked you harder.
he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling his bedroom. the bed creaked below you both, the headboard slamming into the wall behind it.
“y’hear all that baby?” chris taunted, his voice dripping with lust, “how hard i’m fucking you?”
“yes,” you moaned, the air leaving your lungs as his dick repeatedly kissing your cervix over and over.
chris continued slam into you, a loud crack echoing through the room as the mattress sank beneath you both. the slats in the bed frame broke in half, collapsing onto the floor underneath it.
you and chris’s eyes widened as he stopped his motions, holding himself up over you as he broke out into a wide grin.
“did we just break the bed?” he whispered.
you giggled, nodding your head as your cheeks began to heat up. “i think so.”
chris slowly pulled himself out of you, the mattress shifting around as he sat up, helping you with him.
“what now?” you mumbled, scooting to the edge of the bed, trying to avoid the sinkhole that was chris’s bed.
he smirked, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you off the bed and towards his bathroom. “let’s finish in the shower.”
bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ sorry i’ve been so mia lately i’ve had some stuff going on :( not entirely back yet but once things clear up i’ll be active again everyday! ❤️❤️
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based off of this video of Chris and Matt’s make up challenge- 🧡
in which: chris does a make up challenge for YouTube, leaving you upset because he never lets you do his
Warnings: jealousy, slight crying, comforting, use of y/n and pet names
A/n- I feel special because I feel like not many have seen the video of it so I’m happy to share. Also feel like this is kind of stupid but it’s fine
Chris told you before he left that he was gonna go do a challenge for content with Charlie and Dixie, and you were fine with that.
But he didn’t know what the challenge was. It was a makeup challenge
Chris never lets you do his makeup, youve begged, youve even tried to blackmail him into it. But he always said no.
So when Nick sent a photo of Chris’s face covered in make up to you while you were laying in bed, he didn’t know it would upset you
you were a little surprised, wondering why he had makeup on. Then you realized it was part of the challenge
You clutched the blanket a little harder, upset that some girl hes never had a genuine conversation with gets to do his makeup before you
you felt stupid that you were upset over this. But you were also mad at Chris, yet you felt like you shouldnt be.
‘It was just make up’ you mutter to yourself, trying to keep the tears from coming.
‘Just make up, no need to be upset’ you whispered
and thats when you hear the front door opening.
“Im back!” Chris’s voice echoed from downstairs
He walked in the bedroom, not knowing you were in there sulking because of some make up. His make up had been washed off, but still a bit of eyeliner left on his eyes.
“Baby?” He questioned when he saw your wet eyes
“What happened? Tell me” he said softly, trying to not make it worse by talking so loud
“whyd you let her do your makeup?” You mumble, not very clear
“what do you mean? It’s just make up baby” he replies sitting next to you on the bed
“Yeah but you never let me do your make up but you’ll easily say yes to a girl you don’t even know.” Another tear rolls down your face
He wipes your tears before speaking up, “I didn’t know it was a makeup challenge until we got there, I would’ve said no if I knew ahead of time. I would’ve ruined it if I said no. I’m sorry baby”
“I’m sorry for being like this” you shake your head ‘no’, feeling stupid you even got upset
“baby dont be sorry. Your right, I shouldnt let a girl I don’t know do my makeup when I told you no. That’s not fair, you had every right to get upset.” He says back, not letting you feel ashamed of yourself
you sit up and pull him into a long hug. He rubs your back, soothing you
“How about this, you can do my makeup tomorrow morning and I’ll take you on a fancy date with my make up on”
Your whole expression changes, you look at him with an excited face
“Really?! I can do whatever I want to your face?” You ask in pure happiness
“Woah, okay maybe not whatever you want, I would rather it be elegant” he says with a laugh
“Sounds good to me!” You squeal before hugging him again
in which: Chris accidentally snaps at you and apologizes
Warnings: a small argument, crying, resolved fight
a/n- I think it’s so cute how when he yelled at her it was because he just wanted to be able to comfort her but she wouldn’t budge
chris didn’t mean to yell, he really didn’t. you were just having a bad day and when he pushed for an answer, you wouldn’t communicate
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Chris begged repeatedly, trying to pry an answer out of you
“Nothing is wrong, chris” your stubborn reply really made him upset. You wouldn’t budge.
He knows you trust him, he knows you love him, he knows you would tell him everything, just right now wasnt the right moment to ask. But he just snaps because of the lack of communication happening.
“Well maybe if you’d stop being a whiny bitch and just tell me what the fuck is going on then maybe I could help!” He knows he messed up the moment he said that. His ears turn bright pink, his whole aggravated expression faltering into a shocked expression at his own words
“I told you I didn’t want to!” You yell right back, Getting up off the couch and running into your bedroom
“Y/n.. wait” he follows after you but before he could follow behind you into the bedroom, the door is slammed shut with a loud bang
He stands there, listening to the soft cries filling your bedroom
He wants to come in there and apologize, tell you hes sorry, comfort you, but he knows you need a little alone time
now, hes sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees and hands is his hair regretting every word he said
Your cries have calmed down. Your in bed, cuddled up with the blankets, pillows, and of course, the stuffie Chris bought for you that smells like him.
The door creaks open slightly, Chris’s face peaking in. He slowly opens it wider and walks over to you.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to yell, I just can’t stand seeing you upset and not being able to fix it” he whispers, trying not to almost startle you.
Yet, you stay silent, not ready to speak out loud.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks cautiously
you respond with a single shake of your head ‘no’
he looks at you, concerned and guilty. He leans to kiss your forehead before attempting to stand up to leave you alone. Well, he thought you wanted to be left alone since you weren’t ready to talk
“Dont leave..” you mutter through the skin of your blanket, barely audible.
He turns back around, smiling because this is your quiet way of forgiving him
“You want to cuddle baby?” He questions
“Mhm” you quietly hum
Chris walks over to the opposite side of the bed and crawls in. He opens his arms, allowing you to lay on his chest. His arms trap you securely against him, taking in his warmth
“I love you” you whisper into his neck, dozing off
“I love you, more, baby” he smiles and rubs your back until you’re asleep.
contains . . . fluff, dad!chris, a small bit of suggestive language.
the morning light spills across the living room, golden and slow. chris sits on the couch in his hoodie, a sleepy smile tugging at his mouth while his daughter curls up against his side, watching bluey with half-lidded eyes.
you walk in quietly, hair messy, one of his shirts hanging off your shoulder. the smell of coffee drifts from the kitchen. he looks up the second he hears your footsteps.
"hey, baby," he says, voice low and raspy from just waking up.
you grin, crossing the room and curling onto the couch beside him. "morning. she's up early."
"she wanted pancakes," he chuckles, rubbing his hand over his face. "i told her i'd make them if she let me sit down for five minutes first."
you rest your head against his shoulder, fingers finding his hand and intertwining easily. he pulls your legs over his lap like it's muscle memory, thumb tracing slow circles against your thigh.
the little girl glances at you with a shy smile. "you gonna eat pancakes too?"
"of course i am," you say softly, smiling back. "your dad makes the best ones."
chris laughs quietly. "she just likes mine because i put too many chocolate chips."
"yeah," you tease, leaning into him. "and you burn half of them."
he looks down at you, eyes soft. "you love it."
you don't argue, just press your face into his chest and mumble, "i do."
his arm wraps around you tighter, hand slipping under your shirt just enough to rest warm on your skin. not in a bold way, just familiar. his thumb moves slowly, tracing your side like he can't not touch you when you're close.
the cartoon chatter fills the room until his daughter hops off the couch and announces, "i'm gonna get my coloring book!" before running down the hall.
as soon as she's gone, chris exhales, forehead resting against yours. "you're so perfect," he murmurs, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.
you smile up at him. "okay, mr pepsi pajama pants."
he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. it's slow and familiar, like you've done it a thousand times but he still takes his time. when he pulls back, his voice drops softer. "you're good with her, you know that?"
"she's easy to love," you say, fingers resting on the side of his neck. "wonder where she gets that from."
he smirks, but his eyes go quiet in that way that's full. "you really didn't have to be all in like this. you just are. and it means everything."
you shake your head, thumb brushing his jaw. "you don't get it, chris. i want to be."
he nods, trying to keep it casual, but the way he pulls you closer gives him away. he kisses your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose, and mumbles, "you're stuck with me, you know that?"
you grin. "yeah, i figured that out after the first burnt pancake."
from the hallway, a small voice yells, "daaaaddy, i can't find my crayons!"
chris groans, dragging his hand down his face, but you're already sliding off his lap. "come on," you say, offering your hand. "let's go find them, daaaaaddy."
he smirks, takes your hand, and together you walk down the hall. his hoodie is loose on him, your fingers are laced with his, and both of you laugh quietly before the next cartoon episode starts in the background.
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WARNINGS : none! fluff, goofy chris who forgets plans & is a bit immature but at the end of the day, he would do anything for you <3
Chris is at your door again.
It’s nearly midnight, you’re in pajamas, and he’s standing there like he didn’t ghost your texts for five hours with that same stupid, sheepish half-smile he always wears when he knows he’s in trouble.
“I forgot to charge my phone,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.
You blink.
“You have a car charger.”
“I don’t trust car chargers.”
You step aside anyway.
He walks in like it’s his place, drops his bag on your floor with a thud, and immediately starts pulling things from it like he didn’t just ignore you all afternoon.
A t-shirt with holes in it. One sock. An unopened bottle of BodyArmor. A gold chain that looks fake. And, weirdly, a potato.
You stare at him.
“I thought I’d stay here tonight,” he says, sitting on your couch like the conversation isn’t already five steps behind him. “I was gonna ask, but, y’know.” He holds up his dead phone like it's some kind of permission slip.
You fold your arms. “We never even made plans, Chris.”
He squints. “Didn’t we?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He pauses. “Well… we should’ve.”
You exhale — long and slow, like a woman about to be canonized for her patience.
And then you get a better look at what he’s wearing.
“Is that…” You gesture vaguely. “Is that what you chose to wear?”
He looks down. Baggy gym shorts, mismatched hoodie, slippers that are definitely two different brands. He’s also wearing sunglasses — on his head. At night.
“Oh,” he says again. “Yeah. This was kind of ironic.”
You stare. “That’s not ironic. That’s criminal.”
Chris grins, wide and unbothered. “You love me.”
“I tolerate you.”
“Same thing.”
You roll your eyes and turn back toward the kitchen. You’re not mad, not really — you’re just used to this.
Used to Chris showing up unannounced. Used to him treating your apartment like a safe house. Used to being his backup plan, his comfort zone, his girl-shaped emergency contact.
You're halfway to the fridge when he calls out, “Wait—did you say we never made plans?”
“Correct.”
“But I told Matt I was hanging with you tonight.”
“So you lied to him.”
Chris frowns, visibly confused. “Huh. Didn’t know I did that.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
You grab him a drink anyway, because you know he won’t ask — just sigh and sulk until you do it for him. He’s sitting sideways on your couch now, legs stretched across the cushions like he’s posing for a Renaissance painting. His phone is charging on the windowsill. He’s flipping through your TV with the confidence of someone who doesn’t pay rent.
You hand him the drink. He lights up.
“Aw, you do love me.”
“You are the bane of my existence.”
“Bane of your bed, too,” he says, winking. “Eventually.”
You throw a pillow at him.
He catches it easily, tucks it behind his head, and leans back like he’s just won an argument he never actually started. You want to scream. You want to kiss him. You want to put him in a cardboard box labeled free to chaotic home.
You can’t even stay mad when he smiles like that, with his stupid curls and his stupid perfect teeth and his stupid voice that always gets low when he says your name.
Chris is the kind of sexy that should come with a warning label:
Caution: may be allergic to accountability. Do not operate heavy machinery or romantic expectations around him.
He’s the kind of guy who’d forget your anniversary but cry over your chipped nail polish. Who doesn’t know where Idaho is on a map but somehow knows every lyric to early 2000s Justin Bieber. The kind of boy who thinks 2% milk means it’s “just mostly water,” who’ll drop thirty dollars on an Uber across the city but refuse to pay for extra guac because “that’s where they get you.”
And still—still—he’s the first person you’d call if you had a bad day. Or a good one. Or any reason to want to feel understood without needing to explain yourself.
Because Chris, for all his chaos, sees you. Always has.
Even if he can’t remember where he put his keys. Or his charger. Or the perfectly reasonable boundaries you set three conversations ago.
He’ll wrap his arms around you in public without thinking twice. He’ll get mad when you don’t tell him you’re sad. He’ll steal your Chapstick and keep it in his pocket like it’s sacred. He’ll refer to your cat as your shared child in casual conversation.
And yeah—he’s a disaster. But he’s your disaster.
Beautiful, ridiculous, clingy. Incapable of proper communication but somehow still the only person who makes you feel like the world isn’t completely awful.
You want to strangle him half the time.
The other half?
You want to marry him.
Because you’re stupid. Or in love. Or both.
You feel him stir from his current position, he’s lying across your lap like a lazy golden retriever in a tattered hoodie, chewing on a Sour Patch Kid and using your thigh as a pillow. He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, curls a mess, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the room.
“You’re staring,” he mumbles.
You ignore that. Instead, you start combing your fingers through his hair, mostly to annoy him. “How have you survived this long without me?”
Chris shrugs. “Matt. Sometimes Nick.”
“That’s terrifying.”
He hums. “I’m a simple guy.”
“You’re a man-child.”
He snorts. “Thank you.”
“Not a compliment.”
“I know,” he says, eyes opening again, lazy and sincere all at once. “But you said man. I’m focusing on the positive.”
You roll your eyes and press a soft kiss to his temple.
He stays the night, of course.
He falls asleep by 12:43 a.m. with a bag of Sour Patch in his hand, his head still resting on your chest. His phone buzzes around one, the screen lighting up with a missed call from Matt, but it’s already slid off the windowsill. You plug it in again, without a word.
At some point, in that space between dreaming and waking, he shifts closer and whispers, “Don’t leave me.”
And you just sigh — exhausted but full — and murmur, “Who else is gonna make sure you eat vegetables?”
He hums at that, half-asleep, half-smiling, and wraps an arm around your waist with the ease of someone who’s never questioned where he belongs.
“My baby,” he breathes. “Love you.”
You don’t even think he means to say it — he’s always too honest when he’s tired.
Your chest still aches a little, soft and stupid. But you cant help but smile, because no matter how many times he forgets to text back or leaves you to pick up the pieces, he always comes home to you.
amandla
theartofmadeline
germansingergirl
