♡︎Fiona♡︎

i think about this photo on a minute basis

the ring

the chain

the all black

HIS HAIR

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐌.𝐒 ― 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ HOTEL , MONTELL FISH

matt sturniolo! x f!reader

requested by : @mattsturnioloisluvr ꨄ︎ WARNINGS : smut, public, unprotected sex, dirty talk, accidental streaming, p in v, dirty talk, interrupted, a bit silly <3

It starts quiet—just the two of you, caught in the hush that always follows a long stream. The room hums with low light and static air, the faint glow of the monitors soft against Matt’s flushed skin.

Outside the door, the house is still loud. You can hear Nick laughing, Chris yelling something half-intelligible, and the squeak of someone’s socks on hardwood. Muffled chaos.

But in here? It's just you and him. A world sealed off in low lamplight and the scent of warm electronics, cherry chapstick, and him.

Your leg brushes his as you shift on the edge of his gaming chair, and it sparks like flint against dry kindling. One glance. That’s all it takes.

You tilt your head. He licks his lips.

“Still feelin’ shy?” he murmurs, voice rough from hours of talking, but lower now. Private. It clings to you like a low-frequency pulse, thrumming between your thighs.

You shake your head slowly. “Not with you.”

And that’s all it takes for him to pull you into his lap like he’s been aching for an excuse.

The chair rocks beneath you, and your knees settle on either side of his hips. His hoodie rides up your back as his hands explore—fingertips tracing the curve of your spine like he’s drawing constellations on your skin.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he breathes, mouth brushing yours. “You know that, right?”

You barely get a nod in before his lips crash into yours—hungry, open-mouthed, nothing careful about it. His tongue slides against yours like he’s trying to take more, deeper, all of you.

You grind down on him, chasing friction, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers bunching in your thighs.

Neither of you notices the faint red dot still glowing on the webcam.

Or the way the live chat’s moving again—confused at first. Curious.

Then wild.

Matt tugs your shirt over your head, exposes you without hesitation. His mouth is on your chest in seconds, sucking bruises into your skin like he wants them to be seen. Claimed.

“Fuck, baby…” he moans. “You’re so fuckin’ hot like this.”

Your shorts slide halfway down your thighs. His sweats pushed to his hips. Everything is messy. Uncoordinated. Rushed. But it fits. It fits because it's him.

When you reach between you to guide him inside, it’s desperate. Sloppy. Soaked. A gasp leaves your lips as he fills you, slow and thick, bottoming out with a groan so raw it shakes through you.

He hisses as you sink down on him, his hands gripping your ass hard, forcing you deeper. “God—feel so fuckin’ good. Gonna lose my mind.”

You ride him slow at first, dizzy with fullness, the stretch, the weight of him buried deep. But Matt’s not built for slow. His hips buck up hard, fucking you deeper, rougher.

The chair squeaks with every thrust. The mic’s still hot, still listening. So is the chat.

"wait—IS THIS STILL LIVE??"

"no way. no fucking way."

"GUYS THEY’RE FUCKING”

But the messages don’t reach you.

Matt pulls you in tighter, his mouth everywhere at once—your neck, your collarbone, the soft underside of your jaw. Your fingers tangle in his curls, your hips meeting every thrust with more desperation. You’re a mess above him, shaking and moaning, barely aware of anything except the way he fills you so perfectly.

The wet slap of skin against skin echoes in the background, timed with ragged breaths and the occasional curse he grits into your shoulder.

He slides a hand between you, thumb brushing over your clit in lazy circles. "Can feel you shaking, baby. You gonna cum for me already?"

You nod, whimpering, arching into his hand. "Don’t stop. Please, Matt… don’t stop."

He groans, his jaw clenched tight. "You’re clenching so hard around me, fuck… you’re gonna make me cum."

You nod into his hair, your voice shaky. "Want it. Want all of it."

His breath stutters, cock twitching inside you as he fights the edge. “Say it again.”

“Come inside me, Matt. Please.”

That shatters him.

He holds you down, grinding up into you deep and hard, and lets go with a rough moan against your throat. You feel it—hot, thick, spilling into you in waves. And that’s what pushes you over. You come with a cry, clutching him tightly, your body shaking around him, milking every last drop.

Your body folds into his like a final sigh, and you rest there in the stillness, chest to chest, hearts pounding in sync. A moment stretched in heat and breath and the echo of everything you just did.

The chat is exploding.

"OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD" "IS THIS REAL???" "CALL CHRIS. CALL NICK. CALL THE FBI." "this is not happening. this is not happening." "AI GETTING REAL CRAZY THESE DAYS."

None of it registers.

Until the door slams open without warning.

“Yo, Matt—did you leave the—” Chris’s voice cuts off like a blade against bone.

You freeze. Matt freezes inside you.

There’s a beat of silence—horrified, thick, wet with sweat and disbelief.

Chris just stares, eyes wide. Then: “Bro. BRO. YOU’RE STILL LIVE.”

Matt jerks his head toward the screen—sees the red light. The open chat. The hundreds of comments flying by like a digital scream.

…fuck,” he mutters.

You’re still straddling him, shirtless, breathless, and absolutely wrecked.

Chris backs up slowly, hands in the air like he walked into a murder scene. “I didn’t see anything. I swear. Not a damn thing. Goodbye.”

The door slams shut.

Matt’s face is a mess of shock and lust, panting as he buries his face in your neck. “I’m gonna die,” he whispers. “I’m literally gonna fucking die.”

You try not to laugh, but it bubbles out anyway—still impaled on him, heartbeat racing, your body flushed and trembling.

He groans. “You’re laughing? Baby, the internet just saw my dick.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, still giggling helplessly.

“And your tits. And… everything,” he adds, voice cracking.

Somewhere, not too far off, Chris screams: “TURN OFF THE FUCKING STREAM.”

Matt just sighs into your neck. “I’m never showing my face again.”

You lift your head, grin lazy and love-drunk. “Well... at least now they know how good you fuck.”

He groans again, dragging a hand down his face. “Kill me. Actually kill me.”

You kiss his cheek. “Too late. You’re already famous.”

bring back streams 2025

filthy

warnings: unprotected sex, use of petnames, established relationship

inspired by this prompt by @muwapsturniolo

the kids are fast asleep, the house stands still, nothing but the sound of dishes clinking under the water as you washed and dried them.

a small frown tugs at your face, worried thoughts invading your silenced mind when you realise your husband is unusually late tonight.

it wasn’t until you were washing the last of the cups when you heard the main door creak open, your head snaps and hand subconsciously reaches to turn the faucet off before grabbing a towel from the side to dry your palms and quite literally sprint towards the hallway.

not even halfway out the kitchen your body was pressed to another.

chris’s sweaty broad frame right in your face when he stops you by holding onto your shoulders.

chris’s long-sleeve white undershirt is no longer white, his blue button up rolled across his arms when he pulls back to look at you.

“woah there, what’s the rush ma?” his tired eyes still glinting with playfulness, a grin spread across his spent features.

his hat turned backwards, small locks of hair peeking out. a tiny cut on his lip evidently showing his habit of biting on it when he is focused or working.

he has had a long day.

you don’t respond to his rhetorical question, simply bringing your palm to his cheek and wiping off the black car grease from under his eye.

“missed you” your voice below a whisper, but he catches it perfectly.

a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth, slowly pushing your body back with his until your ass hits the edge of the kitchen counter.

“missed me?” he mockingly pouts, his calloused palms trailing down from your shoulders to your back and resting on your hips, giving your ass a little squeeze.

you nod softly, pulling his head down desperately for a kiss but to your surprise he pulls back.

“hey now, im dirty” he spoke chuckling, clearly enjoying your state.

“i dont care” you mutter, pulling his head down again, this time more fiercely, kissing him open mouthed and sloppy.

chris giggles into the kiss before tilting his head, lips complying with yours.

you press your tongue onto his bottom lip before taking it in between your teeth, tugging on it as you taste the dried,salty sweat that probably ran down from his forehead.

his hands roam aimlessly around your body and settle on your hips each time, his nose digging into yours which makes both of your breathing sound heavy and shaky.

your fingers tangle in his hair slightly pulling onto some, you need him bad.

it isn’t long until he grips the back of your thighs, pulling you up and setting you down on the counter—all while not breaking the kiss.

your wet lips recede from chris’s, making their way to his jaw, placing small scurried kisses along the prominent bone and down to his neck.

“slow down, im right here” you can hear the smirk on his face, feeling his chapped lips graze your earlobe.

your small hand clutches the hem of his shirt, pulling it down.

he pulls himself off of you finally getting rid of the worn out shirt around his forearm and grabbing the round collar on his shirt to draw it up his head making his hat fall off in the process.

he was quick to get back to your mouth, hungrily kissing it now. his hand comes up to grab your chin firmly, angling your face to his liking.

his dirt filled nails dig into the skin of your cheeks, his palms that were covered in grease leaving faded splotches on your face.

chris’s free hand drops down to undo his belt hastily, making you pull back and help him out to fasten the process.

“missed me so much huh?” he speaks with a mischievous scoff.

you successfully pull his pants down and look up at him to catch him grinning down at you. his index finger reaching to hook on your shorts and you buck your hips to help him pull them down.

his boxers were down the next second, his hard length springing up to his stomach. tip swollen and aching to be inside you.

his digits find their way to the corner of your panties, pushing them aside in a swift motion, his knee nudging your legs apart before his strong hands wrapped them around his torso.

his breath still ragged from the intense make out, lips red and his mouth hung slightly as he focuses on aligning his tip with your entrance.

he doesn’t warn you before slamming his hips into yours, filling you up completely.

chris lets out a low groan as he starts thrusting hard and deep, gripping your hips tightly.

your head falls back, hands stretched out on the counter.

his pace relentless, each powerful stroke sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“holy shit—” he pants out, his eyes dark with lust.

chris’s jaw drops watching you arch your back and bite your lip, moaning loudly.

the sound of your wet bodies and your ass hitting the cold marble counter with each thrust echoes through out the room.

“oh—fuck chris..” you moan out loud, pressing your eyes shut.

chris grins wickedly, your moan spurring on him. he thrusts deeper, hitting a spot that he knows makes you squirm.

“thats it ma, take it” his voice strained.

his nails dig into the flesh of your hips, plowing into you with intensity.

“nngh…chris” your face scrunched up in pleasure, the knot in your stomach getting tighter.

“fuck ma, y’feels so good..” he growls, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit furiously.

“oh—oh fuck-” your thighs quiver around him.

“like that? huh?” his breath hits your face and you nod frantically in response.

he knows you’re about to cum when he sees the familiar sight of your eyes rolling back pornographically.

your gummy walls clench around him and his hand comes off your clit to grip the edge of the counter to stabilise himself.

with a screech you cum undone on his dick, forming a white ring around the base

the sounds you make go straight to his dick, queuing his orgasm.

with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you and comes hard, filling you with his hot cum.

chris stays buried inside you, his dick twitching as he empties himself completely. he is breathing heavily, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as he comes down from his intense orgasm.

chris smiles softly, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

he slowly pulls out, making you both shiver at the sensation. he watches as some of his cum leaks out of you, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

“so you like it when i am filthy huh” his eyebrows quirk up when he looks up at you and you nudge your elbow into his chest at the question.

he chuckles at your embarrassment.

not proofread, english is not my first language

★ not requested i just couldn’t help myself ★

“woah” chris says as he watches you bend over to reach something on the floor, getting a peek of your new lacy panties. “did i see this right? cmere” he gestures with his index, adjusting himself on the couch.

you stood right in front of chris. he gives two light taps between your thighs, silently asking for you to spread your legs apart. his slender fingers make their way to the hem of your skirt, pulling the fabric upwards to display your panties. he scoffs and a grin appears across his lips as he scratches his stubble. “when did you get those?” chris asks, placing both palms on your hips before forcing you down on his lap. you sit with a gasp, his knees pressing against your crotch.

“none of your business” you talk back. chris raises one of his eyebrows, his grip growing tighter against your flesh. “you better drop that fucking attitude” he says in a meaner, more demanding tone. you can feel chris’s digits pressing harder on your skin, making sure he’d leave a mark there — only to remind you who you belong to.

chris pulls your skirt up again, now taking a proper look at the lacy fabric covering you. his breath gets heavier and you know he fucking loves it. it looks so innocent, so pure. “such a pretty girl, all dolled up f’me” he whispers, placing his thumb on your clit. the sudden touch forces you to reach for his shoulders, looking for balance. “i barely touched you” he chuckles, starting circular motions over the fabric — masturbating you while you still got your panties on.

“nhng— chris!” you moan as he quickens his pace, rubbing your clit as he watches you lose you control on his lap. “shhh” chris shushes you, removing his hand from your waist and placing his index on your lips. “do something useful with that pretty mouth hm?” he says, brushing over your bottom lip. you immediately obey, parting your lips and allowing chris to place a finger on your tongue, eagerly sucking his digit.

“much better now” chris says, stopping his movements and receiving an upset groan from you. he pulled you closer, glueing your chests together and slightly spreading his legs. he has full access to your lower part now, teasing your entrance over the fabric before pulling your panties to the side — you are soaked. he gently presses his fingertip on your oozing hole, gathering your juices and going through your folds, giving your clit one last bit of attention before pushing himself inside you.

you throw your head back, holding tighter on his shoulders. chris continues to fill you up with his finger all the way in, reaching your cervix. “there you go” he praises, placing a kiss on your jaw. “that’s how your panties should always be ma, ruined”.

im gonna tickle you

-ms,cs x reader-

(part two maybe?)

you were sitting dzewn on the couch at your friend CHRIS house, when matt suddenly came by and said..

-hey babycakes

-i-i-i- WOOF WOOF MHHH🥹 i- IM SO SORRY DADDY- MATT. IM SO SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO-

-its okay shuga jus let me rub on dat pusieee

-no please-

-what daddy wants, daddy gets. now c’mere.

chris walks in to the living room

-hey mannnn i jus smoked sum dope ass shit ykyk im like sooo high rn. why are you touching y/n magical spot. only i get to do that. grrrr

-s-sowwy papi- may-maybe next time?

-nah

matt starts tickling you and you cant help but pee yourself. he now decides its time to get the rose toy.

-plees dont! bae stop him!

-dw im getting your bitchass outta here.

he flies your ass to bahamas last minute. matts crying and doing pushups on the floor now. great. you should go kys.

-hey ily

-same omg we twinnem

-stfu hoe before i bust in your face