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m.sturniolo — in which bf!matt calls you for help when buying you period products.
┃" there’s like… different sizes? "
┃warnings; none
you had been with your boyfriend, matt, for a while now, long enough that he knew the rhythms of your moods and habits. almost as well as you did.
this week, everything had been on the tougher side of things. your period had hit harder than usual, the cramps becoming unbearable, energy levels almost nonexistent. anything and everything from getting out of bed to answering text messages seemed like the most difficult tasks.
but matt had been nothing short of sweet through it all.
you’d ended up staying at his place last night, spending the entire evening curled up against him in his bed, the two of you watching your favorite halloween movies. he’d ask how you were feeling every ten minutes or so, made sure your heating pad was working properly, and that you were as comfortable as humanly possible. and though he was just as tired as you were, he waited until you drifted asleep before he let his own drowsiness overtake him for the night.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─
the following morning, sunlight barely filtered through the blinds as the room was still and quiet, the kind of calm that comes with the early morning. matt had been awake for about an hour now, checking in on you every now and then. he’d find you in the same position each time, bundled up in his covers, hugging his pumpkin plushie gently in your arms.
he dreaded the thought of waking you, but he also hated the thought of you waking up to find the empty space next to you that he once occupied, wondering where he had disappeared to. especially with the current state you were in.
you found yourself stirring awake when you felt a gentle kiss brush against your temple, followed by matt’s soft voice breaking through the silence of the morning.
“hi baby,” he spoke sweetly. “i’m heading to the store with nick and chris.”
your eyes fluttered open, immediately noticing his figure standing over you, a blur at first. as your eyes adjusted and your vision cleared, you started making out his features. his hair was damp, strands clinging to his forehead. the faint scent of his shampoo lingered in the air. he must’ve just showered.
“mmkay…” your voice was muffled through a hum, your eyes falling shut once more.
a gentle smile tugged at matt’s lips as he watched the way you let sleep peacefully wash over you. the way your eyelids fluttered and your breathing slowed. the way your arms still lightly wrapped around the orange plushie. he felt at ease seeing your peaceful state, knowing you weren’t in any sort of discomfort at the moment.
“do you need or want anything before i go?”
you hummed softly, shaking your head. there wasn’t much room for thought as you were still half asleep, the only thing on your mind being the dream you’d woken from.
“alright, text or call if you need anything, pretty girl.”
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─
about twenty minutes after matt had left the house, you’d finally woken up, the room still filled with that same calm and quiet.
an episode of gilmore girls was now playing on the tv across from matt’s bed, a hot cup of tea resting in the palm of your hands. a few pillows offered some comfort between you and the headboard as you sat upright, along with the warmth of your heating pad sitting in your lap.
you’d forgotten you had sent matt a text a few minutes after he left until you felt a faint, steady buzz on the bed next to you. reaching over, you flipped over your phone to see matt’s contact photo glowing softly on the screen, a smile tugging at your lips as you lift it to your ear.
“thank god you answered, i was about to murder chris and nick…”
you bit back a smile, shaking your head in amusement. you could almost picture him glaring at his brothers on the other side of the phone.
“anyways, i’m staring at like… fifty different boxes right now” he chuckles nervously, “what am i looking for? the purple ones? there’s white ones with blue and green patterns-”
you let out a soft laugh at his flustered state, “there should be plain blue ones.”
there was a small pause before you heard him mutter softly.
“oh, thank god.”
he must’ve found them.
“wait- hold on…”
maybe not.
“there’s like… different sizes? why are there different sizes for these things?” his voice is almost a panic.
nick’s voice suddenly rang through the phone, muffled but unmistakingly teasing, followed by chris’s laughter. you couldn’t make out their exact words, but you didn’t need to. the chaos in the background told you everything. there was no doubt that the two of them were giving matt a hard time, and the thought alone made you smile.
“ignore them,” he sighed through the phone. “okay- regular, super, ultra?”
he sounds completely and utterly lost.
“regular, baby,” you giggle softly.
you caught the sound of him murmuring a quiet “regular, regular” as if repeating the word would make the right box appear faster.
a few seconds later, “got it. anything else while i’m here? ice cream? midol? i know your cramps have been worse this month…”
his voice was gentle and threaded with genuine concern. something about his voice, the way he said it, made your chest tighten in the best way possible. he wasn’t just being polite, even though he always was. he meant it. he wanted to take care of you.
“i just bought midol recently,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring, “and don’t worry about ice cream or anything.”
“are you sureee?” he asked, dragging out the word in that playful way he always did when he was half-serious. you could practically see his expression, brows lifted, a smile tugging at his lips, the way he always looked when he felt like he had to take care of you. “i’ll absolutely get you ice cream or chocolate or whatever you want…”
you laughed quietly, “baby, i don’t need it.”
“too bad,” he shot back instantly. “i’m getting you some ice cream.”
you could hear the smirk through the phone, knowing that no matter what you said, he was always going to go out of his way for you. that’s just who matt was, impossible and sweet, frustratingly thoughtful in all the right ways. but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“how are you feeling? you aren’t having any cramps are you? your heating pad should be-”
before he had the chance to say another word and ramble on about making sure you were as comfortable as possible, you interrupted him. you could hear the concern in his voice.
“matt,” you say gently. “i’m fine. you don’t need to worry, okay? the heating pad and midol’s working just fine.”
that wasn’t entirely true. the dull ache in your stomach was still present. the warmth from the heating pad helped, yes, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the pain entirely. and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.
“for some reason, i don’t believe that,” he said, his voice laced with suspicion and something else beneath it. “we’ll be back soon. i’ll fix you some lunch when we get back and then you can have your ice cream after.”
you opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that he didn’t need to go out of his way to do all these things for you, that you could get up and make yourself lunch if you wanted to. but he was quicker to speak.
“alright, i gotta go. i love you, see you soon pretty girl.”
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─
author's note — hi loves! please bear with me as i'm still new to tumblr and getting the hang of it! i'm always open to suggestions if you have any!:)
let's also pretend he's looking at tampons instead of whatever it is he's looking at 😍
a full list of all the sturntober marathons that i found! let's all support and send love to these creators. if you have any others please comment or inbox me!
kinktober - @sturn-baby05
kinktober - @sturniphone (this is such a cute idea & layout)
kinktober - @mattslilies (i know this will EAT)
kinktober - @hannahsturniolo
kinktober - @chrisssiren
flufftober - @echambieee
kinktober - @delilahsturniolo
kinktober - @eyesonmattyb
kinktober - @mattstromboli
kinktober - @mivogjk
angstober - @mi-co-uk (i will be sobbing for days)
kinktober - @lvrsturniolo
flufftober - @sturnililio
flufftober - @fairychris (OMGG SO HYPE!!)
angst/flufftober - @matthewsbasement
sturntober - @sturnsflirt
sturntober - @444sturns
kinktober - @cvnntagious
kinktober - @ariestrxsh
kinktober - @miaxrg
kinktober - @cinnamonsturns
kinktober - @cayleeuhithinknott
flufftober - @xxxxxxlovesstuff
kinktober - @bernardskissmarks
fluff/angstober - @bsturnzz
kinktober - @mwahbymia
kinktober - @rarebambi
kinktober - @amilia60191
kinktober - @billiesbabyy444
kinktober - @celest4matt
kinktober - @tiffsturns
kinktober - @kinascum
kinktober - @chris-hallelujah
that's all i can find currently, but if you or someone else is doing a sturntober marathon please comment and I'll add it! this is purely to support everyone and anyone <3
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
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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.”
Can u write a fic where its like the triplets r on tour and sls went with them and she was missing nate and at the Boston show the boys suprised her with nate and his family but nate told her he couldn't go because of a work party or something so she was shocked
“Boston, With Love”
Tour had been amazing — lights, crowds, adrenaline.
But it was also exhausting. And for their little sister, tagging along as the only girl in a tour bus full of loud boys, it was starting to wear thin.
Especially without Nate.
He’d told her he had to skip the Boston stop — something about a work party he couldn’t get out of. And even though she tried to be understanding, the disappointment had clung to her like a shadow all week.
She missed him. Stupidly, deeply, in a way she couldn’t even fully explain to her brothers.
They tried. They made jokes. Bought her iced coffee when she looked extra tired. Let her sleep in the top bunk, even though Chris hated giving it up.
But she was still quieter than usual backstage before the Boston show.
“You good?” Nick asked, nudging her lightly as they waited behind the curtain.
“Yeah,” she lied.
Matt gave her a sideways glance, but didn’t push.
The crowd screamed. Lights went down. The boys ran out, hyped as always.
She watched from the wings, arms crossed, trying to shake the ache in her chest.
And then—
“Before we get to the next part,” Chris said into the mic, a little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “we got a surprise for someone really special tonight.”
The crowd quieted, sensing something.
“She’s been on the road with us, putting up with all our annoying crap,” Matt added.
“And she’s been missing someone bad,” Nick said, smirking toward the side of the stage.
She blinked, confused. Then turned—
And froze.
Nate.
Standing there with his goofy grin, holding a bouquet of flowers. Her jaw dropped.
“You said you couldn’t come,” she whispered.
He laughed, stepping forward to wrap her up in a hug. “I lied.”
“You lied?”
“Matt made me. Blame him.”
She couldn’t even be mad. She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the flowers out of his hand.
On stage, the boys pointed and cheered. The crowd was eating it up.
“You didn’t actually think we’d come to Boston and not bring your favorite person, right?” Chris called out.
She buried her face in Nate’s shoulder, laughing and crying all at once.
It was loud. Overwhelming. But for the first time all week, her heart felt full again.
And later, when the show ended and she was tucked under Nate’s arm in the dressing room, she looked at her brothers with watery eyes.
“Thanks for knowing what I needed before I did.”
Chris shrugged. “It’s kind of our job.”
Nick grinned. “We’re like emotional support brothers.”
Matt just tossed her a water bottle. “Don’t ever say we don’t love you.”
no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango even bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.
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
contains ⚠︎ smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, obscene descriptions!, polyamory, hint of overstimulation, p in v (unprotected, use condoms irl), threesome, oral (m! receiving), size kink, light s&m, bondage, toys & idk a bunch of kinky stuff °~° ⚠︎
sum. Switching their clothes for a video leads to new sexual discoveries.
wc. 2.1k (2,116)
note. English is not my first language!
You watched from your place on the living room couch as Matt and Chris paced back and forth between their rooms. Seemingly exchanging clothes, laughing and talking about some type of tiktok they’re gonna film. You were only partially paying attention now—the fanfiction you were reading on your phone suddenly taking an interesting turn.
"Hey, ma?" Your head shot up at the sudden interruption, your eyes widened by a fraction when you saw their attire. They had exchanged clothes, and even their jewelleries were of the other. It’s not like they don’t wear each other’s clothes, you’ve seen them share hoodies or pants, but never fully dress as one another.
"Yeah?" You breathed out, your voice coming out a bit too shaky for your liking. "Can you please go into one of our rooms while we film a tiktok? Y’know... we can’t really show you yet." Chris said apologetically, and you nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course, tell me when you’re done." You stood up and made your way towards Matt’s room.
"Sorry about this, sweetheart, we won’t take too long ’promise," you chuckled quietly to yourself before replying with a soft "okay" and closed the door behind yourself. Immediately plopping down on Matt’s bed as you opened your phone, ready to continue reading the fanfic.
Some people might think it’s weird to read fanfictions about your boyfriend— or boyfriends in your case, but you couldn’t deny how hot it was, how much it turned you on. The suggestive part of the fanfic began and just as you got comfortable on the bed Matt walked inside the room.
You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow, "you done already?" He chuckled and shook his head no, "Chris is filming his video, I’ll do it after him." You nodded, and motioned for him to come sit beside you. "You should wear bracelets more often, it suits you..." Your voice trailed off as his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a small playful squeeze, and the seemingly innocent gesture sent shivers down your spine.
"Yeah? Maybe I should get a similar one–" he paused, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the Tumblr logo on your phone, the fanfiction left open and abandoned on the bed beside you. You looked at him confused before following his gaze, a small gasp escaped your lips before you quickly turned your phone off.
You sat up, flustered and embarrassed to have been caught red handed reading such a frisky fanfic about him and Chris. Stammering as you tried to find a good excuse as to why you were reading a smut fanfic in broad daylight – even if you could – but it only made it worse. "You read things like that? What was the name again?"
You looked at him for a solid minute before opening your mouth to speak, only getting out a flustered "what?" in response. The corners of Matt’s lips twitched into a small smirk, "what’s the name?" He repeated himself, his smirk threatened to grow wider with each passing second. "Simple solution," you whispered.
"Hm? And what happens in it?" You gulped softly, feeling your face heat up. "Do I have to? I mean, you can just read it yourself, I know you’ve got Tumblr on your phone." Matt laughed, the sound rich and amused, "yeah I do, but I wanna hear you tellin’ me about it, sweetheart." You couldn’t help but fidget slightly at the pet name, it was one of your faves.
"Uhm... It’s like, well," you stammered, "it’s about how much you and Chris look alike when you wear your caps backwards." You finally blurted out, biting your tongue as you waited for his reaction. "That’s... Interesting? So y’like it when we look alike huh?" He chuckled, thoroughly amused.
The bedroom door opened, and Chris peeked his head in. "I’m done," he walked fully inside the room, grinning and putting his hands on his hips in a mock attempt of display. "So, how do I look, ma?" You chuckled and sat up straight, "So fine, I’ll give you that, the kisses tee is just chefs kiss."
Chris grinned wider, "pirate girl tank or kisses tee?" Your jaw dropped, "how do you expect me to pick one? Also, why didn’t you wear the 'iconic' pirate girl tank?" You nudged Matt playfully, "we’re not recreating outfits... well, basically, but it’s more like how we dress and all—" you cut him off with a laugh, "okay, whatever you say, kid."
"Are you two done filming yet?" Nick popped his head in, looking annoyed, "’cause I’m so fucking hungry, and you keep telling me to stay in my room like what am I? One of your secret girlfriends?" Chris scoffed in faux annoyance, "we’ve only got one girl fyi, and no, Matt hasn’t filmed yet, but go ahead and eat if you’re about to starve to death."
Nick huffed, raising his eyebrows in dramatic disbelief, but didn’t say anything else as he walked away, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous everything was. Suddenly, Matt spoke—breaking the silence. "I’ll be back," he gave your thigh one last squeeze before standing up to film the short video for tiktok.
Chris smirked and sauntered over to Matt’s bed where you were – still – laying on. Sitting on the edge as his hand absentmindedly started to caress your calves, "so, real talk, how do I look?" You hummed thoughtfully, "real talk? I think you look hot, like 'makes me wet' kinda hot." He let out a surprised yet amused laugh, "bold now ain’t we?" chuckling as he leaned closer.
"Mm... 'makes you wet' kinda hot huh?" He teased, a wolfish grin on his face as his gaze raked over your body appraisingly. "So, you gon’ show me how wet it makes you or do I have to see it myself." His tone wasn’t one of questioning, more like a commanding one as if you were obligated to show him either way. You felt pleasantly surprised, the fluttering in your abdomen growing tenfold.
However, Matt walked in before you could respond. Raising his eyebrows with a small smirk as he sensed the tension in the air. The room seemed warmer, more electric. That’s when Nick opened the door again, "I’ll be out for a bit–" he paused, having sensed the tension as well.
"Well, uh... Don’t be too loud? We don’t need another noise complaint from our neighbours, that’s just borderline embarrassing." With that, he closed Matt’s bedroom door, leaving you three alone. The front door clicked shut a few minutes later. Your mouth hung agape at Nick’s words.
"Damn, kid has no filter whatsoever." Chris chuckled, taking the fanny pack off and tossing it on Matt’s gaming chair. "Hey, easy with it," Matt said as he took off his cap. Putting it on his gaming desk before turning to look at you. Sensing their eyes on you, you suddenly felt a strong heat in your lower abdomen. Their gazes were enough to make you squirm.
"So, now that Nick is out," Chris looked at Matt before looking back at you, "we’ve the house all to ourselves," Matt continued for him. You nodded subtly, shifting slightly on the bed, trying not to show how in need you were. They weren’t stupid, knowing exactly what was happening with you as their handsome faces lit up with amused grins.
You squirmed, a muffled moan exiting your gagged mouth as your hips bucked and jerked when Chris pressed a button on the small remote, making the vibe in between your legs buzz louder. The intense sensation of the vibe, bound to stay precisely on your clit, was enough to make your eyes roll back.
Your ankles were bound as well as your wrists, making you unable to move much as the pleasure coursed through your body. You bit the gag, your back arching and hips rolling as you tried to get the vibe at least a millimeter away from your throbbing clit, but Matt held your hips down and Chris positioned the vibrator so it was exactly on your clit again.
"Aw, too much?" Matt pouted, jutting his bottom lip out in obvious mock sympathy. Your eyes glazed over as a tight knot formed in your stomach, your body trembling as you tried to fight the impending orgasm – knowing it would turn you dumb from how powerful it would be.
Just when you thought you couldn’t hold back anymore, Chris pressed the button until the vibe buzzed at max. An immediate jolt ran through your body as your eyes widened, tears of pleasure threatening to fall as you shut it back closed, loud muffled noises penetrating through the gag.
Your mind blanked when you felt the knot snap, the orgasm so powerful that you wondered if you could stay conscious. Noticing the slight overstimulation, Chris turned the vibe to a low buzz. The sensation bordered on overstimulating in your oversensitized post-orgasmic state – even if it was barely there. Matt chuckled as he took the remote from Chris and turned the vibe off, your body immediately limping into the mattress as the sensations stopped.
Chris gently untied your ankles from the bounds, but kept your wrists tied over your head. His fingers working deftly to remove the bounds from your pelvic area and tossed the vibe somewhere on the bed. Seeing your inner thighs quivering, covered in your juices, and your swollen, glistening folds on display made their cocks twitch.
They were already naked, not seeing the point in having clothes on, but kept the bracelet and rings on per your request. The tips of their hefty lengths were already dripping with precum from how aroused they were, swollen and taut with unfulfilled desires. Matt suddenly stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet while Chris took off the gag.
A few seconds later, Matt was back on the bed, now beside you as he helped you into a sitting position. Your gaze fell down to his hand that held a red silk blindfold before taking it back up to his face, your eyebrows raised. "Where did you even get that?" You asked with a small hint of amusement.
Matt just grinned, "bought it a while ago, been contemplating whether to use it or not, but I think now’s the best time to use it." Chris chuckled, "dude, I can’t believe y’had all this stuff in your closet, laying ’round like that." Matt chuckled and scooted closer to you, his erection bobbing obscenely as he moved. "C’mon, sweetheart, lemme blindfold you." You eagerly closed your eyes, not denying how much you liked this.
The blindfold cut off any source of light, making you feel a shudder of excitement. It was designed for plays like this so it wasn't a surprise that you couldn't see anything. The inability to see only heightened your other senses, every graze and touch of their hands on you seemed to make your body tremble and jolt.
𓆩♡𓆪
Your mind was a haze as Matt pounded into you with hard, deep strokes, and the slight difficulty breathing from Chris’ length down your throat added to the haze. Your mind fogging with pure unadulterated pleasure as they used your holes. Matt held your bound wrists, keeping you from moving as his other hand gripped your hip with bruising strength.
The obscene sounds of squelching from your sopping pussy being filled over and over again by Matt and the slurping sounds of your mouth working Chris filled the room along with the bed creaking underneath you. The position you were having intercourse in was a new one neither you, Matt or Chris had tried before.
Your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, but your head hung down it—allowing Chris to use your mouth. Matt’s pace quickened as he felt himself growing close with each spasm of your inner walls from your previous orgasms, the aftershocks still coursing through you.
Chris moaned as he felt the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each thrust down your throat, the sight of the bulge he was creating with his cock on your throat proving to be too much. You felt them twitch in your holes, their paces quickening and you knew they were close.
With guttural moans they came, one after the other. After a few seconds of shuddering over you, they finally pulled out, leaving you filled with their releases, but you knew better than to think it was over. Your suspicions were proven right when they coaxed you into a different position, but you weren’t complaining. After all, who could resist? They seemed to have you under their spell—bewitching indeed.
𓆩♡𓆪
ps. The fic mentioned in the beginning is actually one of my chratt fics. I know, I know, sneaky mf, but here's the link in case you wanna check it out<3 «Simple Solution»
Also, the beginning part of the actual smut was inspired by this «p link»
ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ cursing ⋆ bsf!chris ⋆ pet names ⋆ Chris gets hard and tries (but fails) to hide it ⋆ backshots ⋆ degradation kink ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ spanking ⋆ (slight) manhandling ⋆ rough sex ⋆ creampie + more.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕... Your boyfriend broke up with you before you could show him the new lingerie you bought so Chris, your best friend, agreed to let you model for him.
You had just finished unpacking all the things you had bought from the intimate apparel shop you frequented. You were ecstatic to model the sexy pieces for your boyfriend of 2 months.
A smile plastered on your face when you saw your phone light up with a few notifications from your boyfriend, Jesse. You quickly took your phone from the nightstand and opened your messages to check what he had sent.
Your smile faltered almost immediately when you saw the messages. You could not believe your eyes.
"Hey, uh, I know we were supposed to meet up later today, but I don’t think this is working out. Let’s break up."
Did this guy just break up with you? Over text?
You groaned in annoyance as you threw your phone on your bed after replying with a simple "Okay". You plopped down beside your phone, face down and sprawled out. "And I had just bought new lingerie too… Asshole." You muttered into the bed, but before you could sulk any more, you suddenly sat upright, having remembered something.
"I can just model it for Chris, he’ll be fine with it… right?" You asked yourself, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your mind.
You weren’t sure if Chris would be up for it. It was something rather intimate, after all. "Only one way to find out." You mumbled to yourself as you took your phone from the bed beside you and clicked on Chris’ contact and pressed call, putting your phone up to your ear with bated breath as you waited for him to pick up.
On the third ring, a raspy voice picked up the call. "Hey, what’s up?" Chris mumbled, yawning afterwards — making it clear that he was woken up by your call. "Sorry if I woke you up, but um… Can I come over?" "Come over? Now? Why?" You looked at the digital clock on your nightstand beside your bed, seeing that it was in fact a bit late.
"It’s only 8 pm? Anyway, about the ‘why’ question... Jesse just broke up with me over text and I was gonna model some lingerie for him, but because of us breaking up I don’t have anyone to model it for-" "Fine, just shut up and come over." Chris interrupted you mid-sentence, not wanting to hear you ramble on about yet another breakup after just waking up.
You felt a sense of relief, hiding it with a scoff. "Changed your mind quickly huh? Whatever, I’ll be there in 10, don’t go back to sleep dumbass." You ended the call after hearing him chuckle and mumble a playful "yes ma’am."
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
You arrived at the triplets place, watching as Chris laid lazily on the couch, covered in a fluffy blanket. "At least you’re awake, but uh, where are Nick and Matt?" You asked, setting your bag – full of lingerie – down on the couch beside his head, making him look up at you.
"They’re out." Chris stated, ignoring your sarcastic comment. "Well, go on — model for me." He crossed his arms, still laying on the couch.
You rolled your eyes, mumbling about him being demanding as you rummaged through the bag and took out a light pink set — lacy, sheer lingerie. Chris’ eyes widened by a fraction as he took in the sheer fabric in your hands before you sauntered into the bathroom to change.
A few minutes went by and you emerged from the bathroom with the lingerie set on, your arms and hands covering the sheer parts. Chris had sat up while you were in the bathroom, his breath hitching softly when he took in your lingerie-clad body.
"Well, um, here’s this." You mumbled, suddenly feeling shy about how little the bra and underwear covered. "Um, that’s-that’s something." Chris stammered, silently trying to will his dick to behave as he adjusted his position, his eyes shamelessly tracing over your curves before snapping back up to your face.
"I’ll try the next one on." You quickly grabbed another pair and scurried off to the bathroom, but not before Chris caught a glimpse of your nipples through the sheer bra as you took your hands away from your chest to grab the next lingerie.
Damn, you were trying to kill him, weren’t you?
𓆩♡𓆪
You came out of the bathroom with a navy set on, modest and cute but also adorned with lace on the edges — adding a hint of allure. "Wow, this one’s really cute." Chris breathed out, trying to keep his voice steady and eyes on your face.
You hadn’t noticed it yet, but he was getting a full on hard-on just from you modelling the lingeries. His chest heaved slightly due to his breathing getting more and more ragged.
"Yeah? Right? I like this one the most." You grinned, feeling less shy as you took the next pair, a longer peach colored sheer top with matching sheer thong.
Damnit.
Chris was helpless as he watched you go back into the bathroom with the see through fabrics in hand, knowing he was probably going to get blue balls at this rate from the sexy shit you were modeling for him. He cursed under his breath and adjusted himself before you finished changing, making sure that the blanket covered his lower half well.
You came back into the living room with the set on, the flowy fabric of the top only making your body look mouth-watering, and the thong left little to the imagination.
Chris nearly groaned out loud at the sight, his dick twitching in his sweats before he quickly tried to remind himself that you were his best friend. Well, safe to say that his dick had other ideas — clearly.
"What do you think? I really like this one, it’s comfortable." You absentmindedly rubbed the soft fabric of the sheer top between your thumb and index finger, looking down at it.
"Yeah… it looks good — really good..." He mumbled, almost like he was in a trance as his eyes slowly raked over your body in an appraising way that you seemed to – surprisingly and naïvely – not have noticed yet.
𓆩♡𓆪
You were now standing a few feet away from Chris with the last pieces on, which was a three set lingerie. Red lace bra and underwear with a matching sheer robe that fell down just around mid-thigh.
Chris was sooo close to losing it.
He shifted in his seat and that’s when you finally noticed the tent on the blanket around his crotch area — you knew immediately what it was. A gasp fell from your lips, catching Chris off guard and making him look at you with a shameful look, probably having noticed from your expression and reaction that you’ve seen his boner.
"Are you…" You trailed off, not sure if you should say the word or not. Your eyes darted down to the bulge again before snapping back up to his face, watching as he slowly nodded his head. "I know-I know what you’re thinking and I know I’m not supposed to be reacting this way given our friendship… but I just can’t help it when you’re standing in front of me practically naked."
"So you’re blaming it all on me?" You huffed jokingly to see his reaction. Chris immediately shut himself up, his eyes widening as he realised how his words could be misinterpreted. "N-no, of course not!" He quickly denied, slowly standing up and towering over you.
"That’s not what I meant, c’mon… are you serious?" Chris groaned in annoyance, although his expression bordered on pleading. You burst out laughing, obviously amused at your own little stunt. "I’m just fucking with you, but seriously though, you’re hard just from me modeling those?" You questioned between giggles, gesturing vaguely at the pile of lingerie on the couch.
Chris sighed, his embarrassment eating him alive. "Fuck you." He mumbled, glaring down at your giggly figure, watching as your chest rose and fell, shaking slightly with your giggles. He swallowed thickly, feeling his dick throb with need.
He needed you so damn badly.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Your hands scrambled for purchase on the bed as Chris’ hips slammed against your ass with loud slaps, making your body jerk forward with each thrust.
Lewd, wet squelches could be heard from his cock ramming into your – absolutely wet – cunt over and over again.
"Haahh…" Chris breathed out, grunting as he fucked you into oblivion. "Can’t fuckin’ believe I hadn’t done this sooner, y’feel sooo good." He chuckled breathlessly, his hand coming down hard on your reddened ass before sinking his fingers in the supple flesh.
Your gummy walls squeezed his shaft when he slammed into your sweet spot and a loud moan of his name was muffled by him pushing your face into his pillow. "Here?" He slammed into that spot again, but with more precision this time, causing your body to jolt due to the sudden pleasure.
"Feels good huh?" He taunted, knowing you were too pleasure-drunk to think clearly. A smirk creeped onto his face as he kept your head firmly on the bed, arching your back sharply as he kept pounding into your sweet spot.
You were seeing stars.
"Fucking slut, and to think you said shit about me being like your older brother, ha!" He huffed out an amused laugh. "Best friends my ass, you can’t even stay coherent while being fucked by your best friend huh?" He mocked, his pace not faltering one bit.
His dirty words along with the taunts only made your mind blank with pleasure, your orgasm approaching terrifyingly quickly.
A few more brutal thrusts and you were cumming hard.
You cried out in pleasure and your inner walls milked his cock, fluttering rhythmically as your pussy tried to greedily pull him in deeper.
Your orgasm triggered his own.
The feeling of your pussy contracting around his length was too much for him and he came with a loud groan, burying his face in your hair as he bottomed out in you — his warm seed filling you deep inside. His hips jerked against your ass with each spurt of cum.
"Fuuuck, I might get addicted." Chris murmured into your hair.
warnings : mentions of blood. slight crying. slight angst. comfort. postpartum care. reader being weak to do things on her own. chris being an absolute sweetheart. newdad!chris. newmom!reader. nothing else? let me know if i missed anything.
you were so sore and tired.
hours of labor and contractions and pushing, left your body absolutely weak and your mind exhausted.
forty-eight hours has passed since you were in the delivery room—legs propped up as you held onto chris’ hand for dear life. squeezing it when the pain became too much, his lips kissing your head—soothing you.
forty-eight hours since you birthed your daughter into the world.
chris never left your side—during your whole pregnancy, during your labor—making sure you knew you could do it and that you weren’t alone. and even now, his body sat next to you as you laid in your hospital bed. thumb caressing your knuckles as he kept a keen eye on you, making sure you were okay.
“how are you feeling baby?” his voice was soft, cutting through the comfortable silence in the room. you hummed, eyes fluttering open to look at him. you shifted slightly—only to wince at the ache in your lower abdomen.
“sore…and kind of gross.” you admitted, looking away from him. he frowned, reaching a free hand up to turn your face back to him. “is there anything you need?” his tone was still soft, no rush behind his words.
you sat there for a moment, looking at him, before nodding your head. “yeah…i-i need to go to the bathroom. but i don’t even know if i can stand on my own.” you whispered, feeling a dull ache in your chest at your own helplessness.
chris smiled, standing from his chair before gripping your hand a little tighter—his free hand coming down to tug the covers slowly off of you before coming to rest on your lower back. “let me help you, love. you don’t have to do anything, i’ll take care of you, okay?” he murmured.
you smiled weakly, at his words, letting him help you. he was careful as he helped you sit up, making sure to steady you once both of your feet planted themselves on the tiled floor. your legs trembled beneath yourself, but chris made sure to hold you. “i’ve got you baby, i promise.” he cooed. slowly, he took a step back, encouraging you to follow with a small step forward.
soon enough, he lead you into the small hospital bathroom in your room. when you reached the toilet, you grabbed the railing provided—chris crouching on one knees as his hands softly slid up your sides. “may i?” he asked, his eyes seeking yours for permission, and you nodded. he smiled, slowly grabbing the postpartum underwear and tugging it down.
he reached a hand up for you to take, guiding you to sit down before letting go, letting his hands rest on your thighs. “i’ll give you a second okay?” he said, rubbing small circles into your knee.
but as he went to stand up, you could feel the uncomfortable rush of blood running out of you—sticky, damp and uncomfortable between your legs. you swallowed hard at the feeling, suddenly feeling embarrassed. you cleared your throat a little, hand reaching out to snag at chris’ sleeve before he could walk away. “chris?..”
he turned back, brows furrowing as he crouched right back down to your eye level. “what is it, love?” he asks quietly, his thumbs brushing over your skin once more. you felt your face heat—you didn’t know why you felt embarrassed, maybe it was the vulnerability of the moment—or how helpless you were. you weren’t sure. “there’s…a lot of blood.” you whispered.
and chris nodded, not even hesitating before standing up to reach for your bag that had been placed in the bathroom when you arrived. “i know, sweetheart. it’s okay, here-“ he murmured, digging through the bag as he pulled out a peri bottle and the pads you made at home.
standing up once more, he filled the bottle with warm water, grabbing a cloth in the process. when he turned his attention back to you, he was smiling. “-open your legs baby, think you can you do that for me?” he asked, gently tugging your legs apart, encouraging you as you nodded once more.
your stomach twisted with nerves, but chris’ face wasn’t turned up in disgust—no—it was filled with care, and love.
carefully, he positioned the bottle, squeezing the warm liquid to help clean away any of the blood. and once he felt as though it was enough, he reached for the warm rag, slowly wiping away at your sensitive area until you were clean.
he leaned down, pressing a few light kisses to your legs. “you’re so strong baby. carrying and bringing our little girl into this world—pushing through everything that was thrown at you.” he said, reaching over for one of your makeshift pads. you felt your chest tighten at his words, your eyes burning. “chris..” you whispered, on the verge of spilling over.
he smiled, hands grabbing each of your ankles to feed them through the leg holes, helping you into your clothes with careful movements. “you did so well, ma. and you still are.”
he was so, so caring…you didn’t deserve it. your heart pounded at his words, at his praises.
once chris was done, he gently helped you up, pulling the garments the rest of the way and flushing the toilet for you before guiding you back out of the bathroom and right back into your bed.
he tucked you in, making sure the blankets covered you just the right way and in all the right areas before he sat kind of behind you. his warm palms made contact with your back, his hands gently putting pressure. “can i give you a massage, sweetheart? wanna make sure you feel good.” and you nodded, bracing yourself for the slight discomfort with the aching muscles.
his hands began to kneed the flesh, digging into all the right areas—at just the right pressure. his lips brushed over your shoulders, tracing down the top of your spine as his hands continued to work into your flesh—his fingers moving in careful circles. “i love you so much baby. i don’t think ill ever be able to put into words, how proud i am of you and what you’ve done.” he whispered in between pecks.
“i love you too—ugh—that feels so good.” you groaned, slightly leaning your body back into him. he chuckled, hands smoothing over the knots in your muscles. “i’d do this all the time for you, knowing it makes you feel better.” he admitted, hands moving to your arms and any other area on your body he thought might be sore—which was everywhere.
you weren’t sure how much time had passed. but, by the time he was done, you felt like your body might just melt into a puddle on the mattress.
“okay,” he said, reaching a hand around to brush his knuckle over your cheek. “i think you’re ready for a shower. do you think you’re ready for one baby?” he asked, bringing his hands down and wrapping them around you, hugging your body to his chest.
you sighed, melting into his body. “yeah..i think i am. i feel gross still—all the sweat and stuff.” you muttered. “alrighty, up we go.” chris’ body is already moving like it had been all day, always one step ahead. holding his hands out for you like he did earlier, you grabbed them, moving your legs over the side of the bed and stood—his body carrying most of your weight to make this easier for you.
you tried to step too fast, accidentally wobbling forward on your feet making you gasp loudly. luckily, chris caught you, holding you in his arms before helping you up right again. “whoa, careful ma. don’t want you getting hurt, okay? take it slow.” he reassured, treading backwards as he tugged you forward slowly—just as he did earlier.
once you reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the closed lid of the toilet, quickly turning on the shower to a nice warm temperature before going into the main room, grabbing a nice pair of pajamas from your bag. along with those, he grabbed another homemade pad, laying it out with your clothes on the counter.
when he came back in front of you, he beamed down at you—eyes softening even more as he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world. “up baby.” he said, holding his hands out for you to take.
and you did, grabbing them and standing.
“is it okay if i take your clothes off, love?” he asked, and you nodded, letting out another content sigh. “yes..yes you can.” and with that, he slowly undid the string to your hospital gown, letting the fabric slide down your body before moving to help you out of your bottoms.
once you were discarded if your clothes, his soon followed. gently, he helped you step into the shower. the moment the water hit your skin, a deep sigh—more like a moan—left your lips. the steam wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your body relax and your eyes flutter closed.
before you could think of anything else, chris stepped in under the water and pulled you into his chest—his arms wrapped around you tightly. for a moment, neither of you moved, like he knew what you needed. he just held you, resting his chin on top of your head, his hands splayed out over your back.
it was quite for a long while, just the sound of water hitting the tiled floor was heard, along with the chatter of nurses in your room watching the baby while you were both in the bathroom. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was—content. warm.
then finally, chris spoke once more.
“i’ve never been prouder of anyone in my life, you know?” he whispered, voice barely audible over the sound of the pattering water, but you could hear the emotion in his voice. “you’ve given me everything i could’ve ever wanted in life. your love, your time, your patience, our child.” his voice tightened, arms tightening just a little more.
“you’re so amazing…the love of my life. the mother of my child—my wife. i couldn’t have asked for any other stronger woman in my life.” you felt your throat tighten, your fingers curling around his forearms. “chris, i-“ your words cut off with a small choked sob.
his hands slid up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the falling tears. “you don’t ever have to feel embarrassed, or weak, or anything less than incredible.” he kissed your forehead, hips lips lingering as his words brushed against your skin. “you’re doing so well, love. so, so well.”
and that’s when the tears started flowing. your face was hot as sobs wracked through your body. you didn’t deserve someone like him in your life, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. gently, through blurry eyes, you reached up—grabbing his face between your hands before bringing his lips to your own. the kiss was slow, filled with so much emotion you felt as though you could choke.
but you didn’t.
chris held you once more, cradling your own face in his hands as he reciprocated the kiss, tilting your head to the side to kiss you deeper. and when you pulled away, he let his lips travel, kissing away the tears slipping down your face as your eyes noticed his own clinging to his skin.
“i l-love you so much.” you choked out, looking up at him. he smiled, letting a few more tears slip down his face before he whispered. “i love you. more than you’d ever know.”
and with that, he gave you another peck on the head before he reached for your shampoo, popping open the cap as you wiped your face—sniffling a few times. carefully he poured the soap in his hands, then brought it to your hair, massaging it into your scalp gently. his fingers were slow, making sure not to snag on the wet strands.
he washed every inch of you, his touch never straying from being careful and loving. by the time he had turned off the water you felt lighter—cleaner, yes, but also safe.
chris stepped out first, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you before he grabbed his own. he focused on you first, drying you off from head to toe before reaching for the pad on the counter and slipping your legs through it. he grabbed your pajamas next, slipping them onto your body and making sure you were all good before he dressed himself.
once you were both situated, he helped guide you back out into the room—the nurses who were there politely excusing themselves as chris brought you back to bed. helping you in and tucking your body under the covers once more before he climbed in next to you.
he pulled you into his arms, pressing yet another kiss to your hair. “sleep baby.” he murmured. “i’ll be here when you wake up.” and you did, your mind and body not bothering to fight the exhaustion. and with chris helping you all day, it put you more at ease.
as you drifted off to sleep you could hear your daughter cry, but your hazy mind felt the bed shift and chris’ voice carry through the room before you finally fell asleep.
“daddy’s got you sweetheart—my precious girl.”
a/n : thank you so much for 2k! i love you all so so so much! <3
bestfriend!chris x inexperienced!reader lore fic? like pre smutty smut?
BSF!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ
˚𝜗𝜚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬... fluff, swearing, light angst, mentions of blood, mentions of reader being insecure and bullying, kissing, p in v, protected sex (short description).
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the summer of 2008
the sun was hot and blinding in the backyard of chris’s house, the sun hat you had on nicely covering you from any sunburns.
you were sitting in the sandpit, legs sprawled out to each side, rummaging around with a cup. your curious eyes kept track of how the sand would ooze out, landing in the spot right in front of you, creating a pyramid-shape of sand.
“hey, i want that one,” you heard chris say from next to you, messily reaching over to grab the cup from your hands.
you were confused at first, looking over at him playing with it after he’d snatched it right from your grip. a pout formed on your lips, furrowing your brows while reaching back for the cup.
“no, chris! it’s mine, i was using it first!” you whined, grabbing the cup from him. chris groaned, standing up to move in front of you, but you held the cup close to your chest, turning your body away from him.
“go away, chris! i had it!” you protested again, but suddenly he sat down, his small hands reaching the other edge of the blue cup.
“give it to me! it’s my turn! you’re done using it, let go of it!” he whined back, pulling on the plastic, but not strongly enough to take it from your grasp.
“chris, i said stop!” you cried, growing frustrated and annoyed by chris and how he didn’t seem to understand you were using it first, how he’d basically stolen it from you.
“i said let go!” he yelled with his childish voice, obviously mad from how his brows knitted together, seemingly not caring about the fat tears starting to prick in the corners of your eyes.
all that went down, until you let go, not wanting to fight further. but chris was still pulling hard, causing him to accidentally hit himself right in the face with the cup, the corner cutting the edge of his eyebrow right open.
“ow!” he yelled, immediately losing his grip of the cup, which you carefully reached for to take it back, all while curiously watching his face twist up in pain.
hot tears ran down his chubby cheeks, his small fingers running across the bleeding wound while he cried from the stinging and ache.
“i’m sorry, chris. i didn’t mean to do that..” you mumbled while looking at him with a perplexed and puzzled look, your wide and confused eyes stuck on his eyebrow that was trickling with blood.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
later that day, chris was sitting in his living room with his brothers, all sucking on a popsicle while engrossed in some cartoon on the tv, a bandaid stuck to chris’s brow.
you had been out in your own backyard after your ran home when chris’s mom told you he was gonna cool down for a minute, picking some daisies for him, pinching them between your fingers.
the doorbell then rang in the sturniolo household, and chris’s mom opened it to find you standing there, shyly waving at her.
“hi, mary-lou,” you smiled, looking behind her to see if chris was sitting on the couch, which he was. “can i play with chris?”
you looked back up at her with big eyes, showing her the flowers you’d picked out.
“oh, sure sweetheart. he’s right in there,” his mom opened the door wider for you with a smile, noticing you seemed somewhat eager to get chris. hastily you made your way to the living room, waving at matt and nick.
“hi chris,” you smiled, crawling up into the couch to sit next to him, shuffling between him and nick.
chris glanced at you, before his eyes made their way to the flowers in your hand, looking somewhat curious.
“hi. why do you have flowers?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side, his brows furrowed. his lips and the corners of his mouth were red from the popsicle, clearly sticky from the sugar too.
“they’re for you. sorry about your eyebrow,” you held your hand out for him to take the flowers, somewhat squished and missing a few petals, but still—it’s the thought that counts.
chris looked down at them in his own hand when he grabbed them, before placing them on the coffee table in front of you to keep them safe.
he gave you a faint smile, before he looked at the lollipop that was melting down his tiny fingers.
“do you want a popsicle?” and that was all you needed to hear in order to know you were forgiven, smiling widely with a frantic nod, swinging your legs back and forth.
“mom, can i grab another popsicle?” he turned to look up at his mom, who was a little too busy with her camera, snapping a few pictures of the two of you.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
sometime in 2017
“mom, you’re not being fair!” you yelled from your room with a pillow clutched to your chest, your mom standing on the other side of the door.
you had a frown stuck to your lips, your brows furrowed in frustration, as well as tears welling in your waterline. you looked down at the small bag you had packed to bring for a sleepover with those few friends you had, only for your mom to tell you that you couldn’t go.
“stop, sweetie. i don’t wanna hear any more. dinner is ready soon,” your mom said before making her way back downstairs, leaving you angry and upset in your room.
sitting on the edge of your bed, you could look straight out your window, facing chris’s. you could peek some movements in there, and that was sign enough to pick up your phone and call him.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
“she was being so annoying! i literally planned it all out with my friends, and then she told me i couldn’t go!” you laid with your back to chris’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. chris was doing the same, laughing lightly along with you when you broke a laugh at your upset self. he turned to look at you, poking your shoulder.
“hey, but now we’re having a sleepover. it’ll be ten times more fun,” he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back even wider, nodding along with his words.
“yeah,” you giggled, shooting a quick glance at the bag from earlier thrown onto chris’s floor. then to ruin the moment, your phone started buzzing with an incoming call. you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone only to see your moms contact name.
“fuck,” you groaned, forgotten all about the dinner your mom had prepared and how’d you snook out. it was like this most days and weekends. whenever your parents weren’t being fair (in your eyes), you would immediately be welcomed in chris’s room and vice versa, spending the night eating snacks and watching some stupid show you never got to finish because you always ended up talking over it.
it was nice to have someone to hold your back, always there for you.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
winter, 2018
the tension in the room was thick—so thick you could basically cut through it and finally get out of the room you usually enjoyed staying it. but not right now, not at all.
you sat on the carpeted floor of chris’s bedroom, leaning against the bedframe, his bed occupied with chris himself and his girlfriend. you had this faint idea she had something against you, but you didn’t know what. did you presence annoy her? was this the typical “his girl best friend” situation? gosh, you needed to leave.
“i’m- i’m gonna leave, sorry.. uh- dinners ready soon, so..” you muttered awkwardly as you stood up, glancing at chris and the girl slung under his arm. chris’s eyes immediately flickered to you. “are you sure? i mean, we just- just started..” his words were quick, almost begging for you to stay.
“chris, let her leave if she wants to,” his girlfriend shot in, giving you a look that spoke nothing close to kindness. embarrassed, you nodded slowly, giving him a hesitant wave before you closed his door behind you.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
summer, 2019
the girls at your school could be.. heinous to say the least. chris had gotten a good handful of friends throughout freshman year who he decided to introduce you to—and lucky, you quickly all got along. but the popularity of him and his friends rapidly grew, and so did the attention from girls.
hot tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, sniffling and trying your best not to cry in the empty bathroom. you were anxiously bouncing your leg, staring down at your fingers while fiddling and fidgeting with them. you just couldn’t get those girls words out of your head.
“they’re definitely more than friends, but i don’t get it. she’s so weird.”
“you could never be good enough for chris, are you kidding?”
“chris would never go for a girl like her, have you seen her? they’re definitely not dating, he’d be dumb to.”
no one understood you were just friends, though maybe, just maybe, you wanted more than that. so with that feeling in your gut already, their words only made you feel ten times more shitty. you truly believed chris would never see you as more than a friend. i mean, at least he was single now, right?
you wanted to ask him out, you really did. but when most days were spent like this, crying and second guessing yourself, was it really worth it? to ruin a perfect and life long friendship?
and were you really that dumb? would chris ever like you as more than a friend? maybe they were right, you weren’t pretty enough.
all those thoughts kept running through your mind until the bell rang, and you hastily stood up, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the stall. quickly, you took a look at yourself in the mirror, attempting to wipe away the tears for your eyes and the few that had escaped to your cheek.
…
“what- justin? are you serious? he’s like, super annoying,” chris gasped, nearly losing grasp of the burger in his hand. you blushed, shrugging while avoiding chris’s eyes, adverting your eyes down at your fries instead. all this talk about chris and whether you were dating him or not lead to you trying to push it away—to find someone else to think about.
chris’s stomach did a weird flip when you said you had a secret crush on a guy, something twisted with jealousy. but he’d never admit it, not to anyone. his brows were furrowed, his head tilted slightly to the side while he stared at you, still struck.
“i dunno.. he’s kinda sweet. and his summer tan is really nice.” you mumbled, stuffing a few more fries into your mouth, looking up at chris. he raised his brows with a smirk, lightly chucking. “you’ve never talked to him, have you?”
your cheeks reddened, but you broke into a giggle along with chris, shaking your head from side to side before you breathlessly spoke up.
“no.. not really.”
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
fall, 2019
“i don’t know- i just.. i feel weird. everyone thinks we’re dating. don’t you think so? that it’s a little weird?” you questioned, turning to look at chris.
it was one of the usual friday’s. chris had finished practice earlier, just out the shower, and now sitting next to you in bed. just like normally, a movie was playing, but you had both forgotten about it.
he felt a weird twinge of feelings raise in his stomach at your words, suddenly feeling a little hot and quizzical—wasn’t this the perfect time to tell you? to pull you in for a kiss? no. there’s never be a perfect time, and he knew.
“i- i don’t know. a little?” his words were hesitant, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of you, acting interested. “but i mean.. we’re basically together all the time, so.. i-i kinda get it.”
your ears turning red and scorching when he spoke, as well as your cheeks. he kind of gets it? what was that supposed to mean?
all you could do was nod, giving his face a quick glance, flickering to his lips before a the tiniest, faintest smile pulled on the corners of your lips. “yeah.. makes sense.” your head leaned onto his shoulder, shuffling closer to him.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
spring, 2022
your eyes were avoiding chris’s, mindlessly searching around the café you were sitting in, chris doing the same. your fingers were laced together with his over the table, awkwardly waiting for the coffee you’d just ordered a few minutes ago.
your smudged lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile, your face tinted a little pink—but not as much as his. chris was trying everything against his will to pull you out of the, actually really nice café, and kiss you senseless, just liked he’d done fifteen minutes ago in his car. “um, so.. d-do you think this is a good?” his free hand turned the menu to you, pointing at the name of a sandwich.
your eyes dipped to the card in front of you, reading over the ingredients. “yeah, yeah it does. do you wanna get it? we could share it.”
all the times you’d gone out with chris for lunch never felt like this. but it made sense. he wasn’t just your best friend anymore. this time it actually had a meaning—he’d asked you out on a date.
he nodded, making eye contact with you for the first time since you had sat in his car, blinking a couple times, but keeping his eyes on yours. “that sounds good.. yeah.” swiftly, he leaned closer to leave a loving but soft kiss to your cheek.
you laughed, shoving him off when he continued, finally feeling that wall of awkwardness fall. “chris, stop. you keep doing that,” you continued giggling, finally succeeding in pushing him away. “i’m just making up for all the time i wasted not doing that,” he murmured with a wide, lovestruck smile, his free hand cupping the side of your face to kiss you properly, definitely making a few heads turn.
♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟
february 14th, valentine’s day, 2025
your face was flushed pink, a small layer of sweat beading across your forehead and bare chest. the marks chris had left earlier on your neck and collarbone matched the smudged but red color on your lips—which was now transferred to his chest, burgundy imprints of your lips pressed to his skin.
“gosh, i love you.. so much, you have no idea angel,” chris’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, one draped under your waist, the other one around the back of your neck while he jerked his hips forward, holding up close. chris’s lips occasionally brushed against yours, the moans you both let one mixing together in a harmony.
you hadn’t planned on having some cliché valentine’s day plans together, especially the red petals and balloons on the bed you had seen and laughed at on the internet. sure, you went out earlier to enjoy the friday, but neither of you expected it to turn into this.. okay lie, you both definitely expected this, but neither of you vocalized it.
now you had your legs wrapped around his waist like he had instructed you to do. but to your pleasure, you dug your heels into his lower back with every thrust, pushing him deeper. “ah, chris, i- i love you too.. so good chris,” a whimper left your maroon, parted lips, before they collided with his.
your sweet noises and praise sent a twinge of fire down his spine, groaning loudly into the kiss when yours fingers pulled him closer by his hair. “can’t- can’t believe i wasted more than half my fucking life without you like this.. i- gosh, i’m so crazy for you,” his words sent electricity through your veins, arching your back to let his chest press to yours with a loud cry of his name.
in the end, you knew deep down it was all worth the wait. your friendship had bloomed into something much more beautiful, much more than just friends.
more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader here!
˚𝜗𝜚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬... first part is based on a true story. i accidentally cracked a girls brow up, sorry! anyway, it’s valentine’s day so i felt like adding some smut.. just because. sorry😇🤍
You and Chris have been tied together by an invisible string ever since you met at 10. As you grew older, Chris became your safe place. He was always there, unknowingly shaping himself into the person you’d eventually fall in love with. By the time you were 18, you had become each other’s first everything- first kiss, first love, first promise that neither of you could ever belong to anyone else the way you belonged to each other. And now, standing in the bathroom with ten pregnancy tests lined up on the counter, that promise felt heavier than ever.
story warnings: fluff, smut, creampie, heavy breeding kink, pregnancy, established relationship, etc… if any of these topics upset you… don’t read!
word count: 6k
a/n: thank you so much for 1k followers!! i love you all so much!!
The rain taps gently against the window. Your shared apartment is dimly lit, warm, filled with the faint trace of Chris’s cologne- the kind of smell that feels like home, like safety.
Chris is beside you on the couch, one arm draped lazily over your legs, his other hand scrolling absentmindedly through his phone. The TV plays some old movie in the background, half-forgotten.
Your fingers trace small circles on his forearm, the soft fabric of his hoodie warmed by his skin. He hums in contentment, shifting just enough to glance at you.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asks, voice soft, familiar.
You smile, but your mind is elsewhere, caught in the years before this moment. Because this love didn’t start here.
It started long before.
FIFTH GRADE.
You met Chris at ten years old, standing awkwardly in the doorway of your parents’ friend’s house.
“This is Chris,” your mom said, nudging you forward.
He had messy brown hair, an oversized hoodie, and a smile that made you think he probably got in trouble at school a lot.
He gave you a shy nod. “Hi.”
You stared for a moment, then mumbled, “Hi.”
The adults left you alone, and somehow, within an hour, you were arguing over who could beat who in Bedwars. By the time your parents came back, you were already thick as thieves, plotting some grand scheme to get extra dessert at dinner.
From that day on you couldn’t remember a memory that he wasn’t in.
EIGHTH GRADE
You learned that heartbreak could come before high school.
There was a boy- your first real crush. He was charming, sweet, made you feel special. Until, suddenly, he didn’t.
You found out from a friend that he had been texting someone else the entire time. That everything he said to you, he said to her too.
Chris found you at the park that night, sitting on the swings, kicking at the dirt, trying not to cry.
He sat next to you without a word. Just there. Present. Until you were ready.
“I really liked him,” you admitted eventually, voice small.
Chris scoffed. “Yeah, well, he’s an idiot.”
You sniffled, glancing at him. “You think?”
Chris nodded firmly. “Obviously. He had you and still wanted someone else? That’s just stupid.”
Something about the way he said it, so certain, made your heart feel just a little lighter.
You didn’t know it then, but that was the first time Chris made you feel like you were worth more than the people who hurt you.
It wouldn’t be the last.
JUNIOR YEAR.
Prom was supposed to be perfect.
Instead, your date cheated. Chris’s date bailed.
And somehow, you ended up at prom together- dressed up, but ditching the actual dance for a late-night drive, fast food in hand, sitting on the hood of his car in the school parking lot.
“You think we’re cursed?” you joked, pulling a fry from the bag.
Chris smirked, leaning back on his palms. “Or maybe we just keep picking the wrong people.”
You glanced at him then- at the way the Boston lights reflected in his eyes, at the way he always showed up when no one else did.
For a moment, you almost said something. Almost realized something.
But instead, you just smiled. “Guess we’re each other’s backup plan now, huh?”
Chris had looked down at his feet and let out an almost sad sounding chuckle, “Guess so.”
But he didn’t feel like a backup plan.
Not even then.
SENIOR YEAR.
It wasn’t sudden.
It wasn’t a grand, dramatic moment where everything clicked into place.
It was gradual. Like the slow rising of the sun, creeping into your life until one day, you realized- he had always been the light.
Chris had always been there. Through every heartbreak, through every bad decision, through every night spent crying over people who didn’t deserve you.
And then one day, you just knew.
It was late, past midnight, the two of you lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing about something dumb, something unimportant. And then the laughter faded, and suddenly, the air felt different.
Chris was looking at you. Really looking at you.
And for the first time, you didn’t look away.
Your heartbeat quickened. You swallowed.
“Chris.”
He shifted, his fingers barely brushing against yours between the sheets. “Yeah?”
You took a breath.
“I- I think it’s always been you.”
Silence.
His breath hitched, but his fingers curled around yours, holding tight.
“I-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “God, I was scared to say it first.”
Your chest ached, but for the first time, it wasn’t painful. It was full.
You smiled, biting your lip. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes soft, full of something you had been searching for in everyone else but only ever found in him.
And then he kissed you.
And everything made sense.
Back in the apartment, Chris shifts beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmurs.
You shake your head, smiling softly. “Just remembering.”
He hums. “Good memories?”
“The best.”
Chris tilts his head, studying you. “Wanna share?”
You turn to face him, meeting the gaze of the boy who had always been there, who had never let you go.
The rain outside is still steady and you let your head rest against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Safe. Home.
“You ever think about soulmates?” you ask, voice quiet but certain.
Chris smirks, locking his phone and setting it aside. “Yeah.”
You lift a brow, tilting your head to look up at him. “Oh really? Always been me?”
He chuckles, low and warm, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaning back against the couch. “Yes, my love. Always been you.”
Your heart swells. Even after all these years, hearing it still makes something in your chest ache in the best way.
Chris shifts, pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around you completely, tucking your head under his chin. You sigh against his hoodie, breathing him in, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his thigh.
For a while, you just exist like that- wrapped up in each other, listening to the rain, the outside world feeling so far away.
Then Chris hums. “What do you wanna do for dinner?”
You tilt your head, thinking. “What about some PF Chang’s?”
His face lights up. “That sounds incredible.”
You grin, watching as he grabs his phone and pulls up DoorDash, immediately placing the order without hesitation. Because it’s the city, and neither of you want to go out in the rain when food can be delivered straight to your door.
When the food arrives, you both sit on the couch, containers spread out on the coffee table. You grab a pair of chopsticks, but Chris, like always, opts for a fork, shooting you a smug look like he’s superior for it.
“You’re so uncultured,” you tease, grabbing a dumpling.
Chris snorts. “I just don’t like fighting for my food.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it- just warmth, just love.
As you eat, the conversation shifts to your future, like it always does.
“What about baby names?” Chris muses, stealing a bite of your lo mein like it’s his. “What do you like?”
You smirk. “You planning on knocking me up tonight or something?”
Chris smirks. “Definitely planning on fuckin’ you but, getting you pregnant? We’ll see.”
You shrug nonchalantly, picking up a garlic noodle with your chopstick. “I still want you to cum inside me tonight regardless.”
He chokes on his food, coughing as he glares at you. “Jesus, give me a warning before you say stuff like that. I’m gonna get hard.”
You laugh, nudging his shoulder. “I’m serious, though. You ever think about it? Baby names, becoming parents, getting me pregnant…?
Chris swallows, setting his container down before shifting to look at you fully. His expression softens, thoughtful. “Yeah,” he admits. “I have.”
You raise a brow. “And?”
He smirks. “You first.”
You sigh dramatically, leaning back into the couch, pretending to think. “I like the name Owen for a boy,” you say eventually. “And maybe Elliot for a girl. Her nickname would be Ellie”
Chris nods. “Owen? That’s my middle name. But Ellie is really cute. I like that.”
“Yeah, goof. It would be named after you, handsome. But what about you?”
He leans forward, resting his chin in his hand as he blushes softly. “I’ve always liked the name Weston for a boy,” he says, glancing at you. “And for a girl… maybe Aria.”
You smile. “Aria is cute.”
Chris nudges you. “So, our kid’s name is either Owen, Ellie, Weston, or Aria. Got it.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart swells anyway. “I can’t imagine having a kid anytime soon.”
Chris grins, pulling you onto his lap effortlessly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “No rush,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your shoulder. “We’ve got time.”
You melt into him, fingers threading through his hair.
“Okay, more future talk,” he says after a moment. “Houses. Where do we end up?”
You hum. “Do you wanna stay in Boston?”
Chris tilts his head. “I like Boston, but I wouldn’t mind somewhere quieter. Maybe something coastal? A place where we can sit on the porch and watch the sunrise. What about my family's cape house?”
You smile. “That sounds perfect.”
Chris grins, tapping his fingers lightly against your back. “Can you imagine being as a full time suburban dad?”
You snicker. “Hard to imagine you giving up city life and inheriting Matt’s minivan to truck our kids around.”
Chris groans. “Please never let me get that goddamn minivan.”
You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”
The remnants of dinner are still scattered across the coffee table- half-empty takeout containers, crumpled napkins, chopsticks resting haphazardly in cartons, four empty pepsi cans. Chris groans, stretching his arms before nudging you with his knee.
“You ready to clean this up?” he asks, though he doesn’t look like he wants to move any more than you do.
You sigh dramatically, leaning back against the couch. “Or… we could just leave it here and deal with it in the morning.”
Chris snorts. “No way. You hate waking up to a mess.”
You grumble, knowing he’s right. “Fine. But you’re taking out the trash.”
“Deal.”
The two of you move in sync, cleaning up without much thought- him stacking the containers, you wiping down the table. Domesticity has always been easy with Chris, effortless in a way that feels like breathing. It’s not something you ever have to think about; it just is.
Once the apartment is back in order, you stretch, letting out a soft yawn.
Chris grins, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pressing his chin against your shoulder. “Bed?”
“Yes.”
You slip into the bathroom while Chris grabs water for both of you. The space is warm, the soft yellow glow of the vanity lights reflecting off the marble. You change into one of your favorite comfy outfits- an oversized, faded navy sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder, exposing the thin strap of your lace bralette underneath, paired with soft gray Calvin Klein boyshorts that hug your hips just right.
The fabric of the sweatshirt nearly swallows you, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs, the sleeves hanging just past your wrists. It smells like detergent, a little like Chris, a little like the home you’ve built together.
By the time you start brushing your teeth, Chris enters, setting the water bottles on the counter before glancing at you in the mirror.
His eyes darken immediately, lips parting slightly as he takes you in- the way the sweatshirt slips off your shoulder, the way your shorts sit snug on your curves.
“You trying to kill me, baby?” he mutters, voice thick.
You smirk around your toothbrush. “I just put on something comfortable.”
Chris shakes his head, stepping closer behind you, his hands skimming the edge of the sweatshirt before resting low on your hips. “Yeah? This is comfortable?”
You nod, watching his gaze flick between your reflection and the way his hands trace slow, deliberate circles against your skin.
You fumble your phone, and it slips from the counter, landing with a soft thud on the floor.
You sigh through your toothbrush, bending over to grab it.
And that’s when you hear it.
A sharp inhale. The softest curse under Chris’s breath.
“Fuck, baby.”
Before you can straighten, his hands slide over your hips, firm but reverent. One palm presses against the small of your back, the other smoothing over your ass, fingers flexing as if he can’t help himself.
You swallow hard, heat creeping up your spine as you grip the sink for balance.
Chris leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You still up for that promise, baby?” His voice is low, gravelly, dripping with want.
Your breath hitches. “What promise?” you ask, playing coy.
Chris chuckles, dark and knowing, his fingers pressing a little more insistently into your skin. “The one where you let me cum inside you.”
Your heart pounds, the weight of his words sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze in the mirror, and the heat in his eyes makes your knees weak.
Chris smirks, running his hands up your sides before spinning you to face him fully. His fingers slide under the hem of your sweatshirt, gripping your waist as he pulls you closer.
“You still want that?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours.
Your answer is immediate.
“Yes.”
Chris’s smirk deepens, satisfaction flickering in his darkened gaze. His grip tightens just enough to make you shiver, his fingertips pressing into your skin like he wants to leave his mark there.
“Yeah?” His voice is low, teasing, as he drags his hands over your hips, his thumbs tracing lazy circles. “You want me to fill you up, make sure you feel me long after, huh?”
You swallow, pulse hammering against your ribs. There’s no hesitation when you nod, your breath hitching as his lips graze yours- featherlight, just enough to tease.
Chris hums, his hands sliding lower, squeezing your ass before lifting you onto the counter with ease. His body slots between your legs, firm and unyielding. He keeps you there, locked in place, his forehead resting against yours.
“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough with want.
Your fingers tangle in his hoodie, pulling him impossibly closer, your legs tightening around his waist.
“I want it, Chris,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. “I want you to cum inside me.”
A sharp inhale from him, and then his mouth crashes onto yours, all heat and hunger. His fingers slide under your sweatshirt again, this time with purpose, exploring, claiming.
“Shit, baby,” he groans against your lips, his hands pushing higher, tugging at your clothes.
He doesn’t waste another second. His hands slip beneath your thighs, gripping firmly as he lifts you off the counter with effortless strength. Your arms loop around his neck instinctively, your breath coming in short, heated bursts as he carries you through the dimly lit apartment.
The air between you is thick, charged, every step he takes toward the bedroom making your anticipation coil tighter. His lips find your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat as he nudges the bedroom door open with his foot.
By the time he lays you down on the bed, your body is already burning for him. Chris hovers over you, his hands planted on either side of your head, his darkened blue eyes devouring every inch of you.
“Been wanting to do this all night,” he murmurs, fingers dipping under the hem of your sweatshirt again, this time pushing it up with agonizing slowness. “Take my time with you.”
Your stomach tightens as he peels the fabric over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His gaze drinks you in, lingering on your bare skin, the way your chest rises and falls beneath him.
“Ma,” he breathes, his hands already roaming again, thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You reach for his hoodie, fingers curling around the hem as you tug. “Then take this off,” you whisper, your voice breathless, needy.
Chris smirks but obliges, pulling it over his head and letting it drop to the floor. His toned chest and arms are bare now, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting shadows over the ridges of his muscles.
Your hands roam over his skin, tracing along his collarbones and his happy trail. He watches you with dark, hooded eyes, his breathing heavy as he slides his hands down your body, toying with the waistband of your shorts.
“These too,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, as he hooks his fingers into them, dragging them down your legs inch by inch. The sensation sends a shiver through you, every inch of your exposed skin burning under his touch.
Once your shorts are gone, Chris kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands smoothing over your thighs as he leans down, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your soft and wet cunt. His lips trail higher towards your clit, teasing, making your breath hitch.
Then, just when you think you might combust, he pulls back, standing to his full height.
Your eyes lock onto his as he unbuttons his jeans, dragging the zipper down slowly. He doesn’t look away- not as he pushes them past his hips, not as they fall to the floor, leaving him in just his boxers, the evidence of his desire straining against the fabric.
“Your turn,” you whisper, eyes flicking to the last piece of clothing between you.
Chris smirks, hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pushing them down.
Chris lets his boxers drop to the floor, kicking them aside before crawling back over you, his body warm and solid against yours. His hands find your thighs, spreading them wider as he settles between them, his weight pressing into you in a way that makes your breath hitch.
“Yeahhhh,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, down the column of your throat. “You’re so fucking perfect. Every single inch of you.” His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing you all over again, tracing over your curves, his thumbs brushing against your hip bones.
You shudder under his touch, gripping onto his shoulders, needing something to anchor you. Chris smirks against your skin, his lips pressing sloppy kisses over your collarbone, then lower, taking his time.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” he whispers, his breath hot against your peaked nipples. “Never get tired of touching you, tasting you… fucking filling you up.”
Your breath stutters, heat pooling low in your stomach at his words. His hands slide down, gripping your hips firmly, fingers pressing possessively into your skin.
“You love that, don’t you?” he murmurs, tilting his head to watch your reaction. “Love knowing I wanna fill you up every time. Keep you like this-” he grinds his hips against you, slow and deliberate, making you gasp. “So full of me.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders, and Chris groans, rolling his hips again, teasing you, making your body arch into his.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough, edged with need. “Tell me you want it, baby.”
Your head tilts back against the pillows, a whimper slipping from your lips. “I want it, Chris,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Want you to fill me up.”
Chris growls low in his throat, his hands gripping your thighs, his lips ghosting over yours. “Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he murmurs. “You know that? The way you say it… the way you look at me like that. I swear, I could spend every fucking day buried inside you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, your body tightening in anticipation. His fingers trail down, teasing, testing your patience.
“You ready for me, baby?” he asks, voice thick, teasing as his eyes flick up to meet yours. “You want it that bad?”
“Yes,” you gasp, your hands fisting in the sheets. “I need you, Chris.”
Chris groans, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips, slow and deep, before pulling back just enough to line himself up, swiping his cock a few times through your built up arousal. His gaze locks onto yours, intense, unwavering.
“Then take it,” he murmurs. “Take all of me.”
Chris doesn’t hold back. He pushes in slowly at first, savoring the way your body reacts to him, how you gasp and clutch at his shoulders, legs tightening around his waist. His jaw clenches as he watches you, eyes dark, pupils blown wide with need.
“Fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “You feel so good, baby. Always so fucking perfect for me.”
Your breath stutters, your nails dragging down his back as he sinks deeper, filling you inch by inch. The stretch is delicious, a slow burn that makes your head spin, and Chris eats up every little sound you make, his grip on your waist tightening.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. He leans back just enough to watch your expression, his hands roaming over your tits and cupping them, mapping every inch of you. “You take me so fucking well. Every time.”
Your head tilts back, a moan slipping from your lips as he rolls his hips, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Chris groans at the feeling, his fingers pressing into your skin like he never wants to let go.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw, down to your throat. “Let me in- let me fill you up just the way you need.”
His pace quickens just a little, his control hanging by a thread as he watches you come undone beneath him. Every thrust pushes him deeper, making you gasp, your body arching into his.
“God, you’re perfect,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. “So fucking tight, so warm- like you were made for me.”
Your fingers tangle in his hair, your lips parting in a desperate gasp as he hits the perfect spot inside you. Chris feels it, sees the way your body responds, and it makes something primal snap inside him.
“That’s the spot, huh?” he murmurs, a smirk playing at his lips even as his own breath is ragged. “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna let me fill you up like you need?”
“Chris,” you whimper, your body tightening around him, heat coiling low in your stomach.
“Say it,” he growls, his thrusts getting rougher, more desperate. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you need me to cum inside you.”
Your back arches, pleasure crashing over you in waves as your orgasm hits and you squeeze him impossibly tight. “I need it- I need you to fill me up, Chris. So bad.”
He groans, his grip on you tightening as he thrusts harder, deeper, chasing his release. “F- fuck, baby, I’m gonna- ” His breath shudders, his movements getting sloppier as he buries himself as deep as he can, his body tensing.
A guttural moan tears from his lips as he spills inside you, holding you tight, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. His breathing is heavy, his body trembling slightly from the intensity of it, and he presses lazy kisses against your skin as he comes down.
“Shit,” he breathes, his arms wrapping around you, keeping you flush against him. “I swear, I’ll never get tired of this. Never get tired of you.”
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, running your fingers through his hair, still coming down from your own high.
Chris doesn’t move for a moment, still catching his breath, his body heavy and warm against yours. But then, as if something clicks in his mind, he shifts, gripping your hips with both hands.
Without warning, he pushes your hips up, angling them just enough to keep every drop of his cum inside you. You whimper at the sudden movement, your body still sensitive, your legs trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.
“Chris- fuck.” you murmur, a dazed little laugh slipping from your lips, “what are you doing?”
His fingers press into your skin, his grip firm, possessive. His darkened blue eyes flick down to where you’re still connected, then back up to your face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Making sure it stays,” he murmurs, voice rough, teasing but laced with something deeper, something almost primal.
Your breath catches. “I thought you didn’t want me to get pregnant.”
Chris doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans down, pressing kisses along your jaw, down the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, his lips lingering, his hands still keeping your hips in place.
“I never said that,” he finally murmurs, his voice husky, “maybe I like the idea more than I let on.”
Your heart stutters. Heat blooms in your chest, pooling low in your stomach again despite how spent you already are. Chris tilts his head, watching your reaction closely, his smirk deepening as he sees the way his words affect you.
“Don’t look at me like that, baby,” he teases, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “You’re the one who begged me to cum inside you.”
Your breath hitches. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you actually wanted-”
Chris cuts you off with a slow roll of his hips, just enough to remind you he’s still inside you, still keeping everything right where he wants it. You gasp, your fingers gripping his arms.
“Don’t act so surprised,” he murmurs. “You know how fucking good it feels. How right it feels.” His lips graze your ear. “Tell me you don’t love it.”
You swallow hard, your pulse hammering. “I do,” you whisper.
Chris smirks against your skin, his hands tightening on your hips. “That’s my girl,” he breathes. “And who knows… maybe one day, I won’t just be filling you up for fun. Maybe one of these days I’ll fuck a baby into you.”
Your stomach flips, your whole body flushing at his words. Chris just chuckles, his expression dark and full of satisfaction as he kisses you again- slow, deep, claiming.
“But for now,” he murmurs, letting his weight settle over you again, his hands still holding you in place, “we’ll just make sure it sticks.”
Chris finally releases his hold on your hips, letting you relax into the mattress, though he doesn’t pull away just yet. He presses a few lingering kisses against your shoulder, his hands smoothing over your sides as he breathes you in.
“You good?” he murmurs, his voice warm and tender now, the teasing edge from before softened.
You nod, still catching your breath, your body pleasantly sore in the best way. “Yeah… just feel like I can’t move.”
Chris chuckles, rolling off of you but staying close. “Guess I did my job right, then.” He smirks, but before you can throw a pillow at him, he leans in, brushing his lips over your forehead. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”
He helps you up, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as you both make your way to the bathroom. He’s gentle as he runs a warm washcloth over your skin, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your shoulders, wherever he can reach. It’s such a contrast from the heat of earlier, but it makes your heart swell all the same.
Once you’re both cleaned up, you slip on one of Chris’s hoodies- something oversized and soft- and climb into bed. Chris follows, pulling you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he buries his face in your hair.
“Love you,” he mumbles sleepily, his lips brushing against your temple.
You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Love you too, Chris.”
TWO MONTHS LATER
You groan, dropping your forehead against the kitchen counter as another wave of nausea rolls through you. “Ugh, I feel awful.”
Chris looks up from where he’s leaning against the fridge, brows furrowing with concern. “Still feeling sick, baby?”
You nod, rubbing your stomach with a frown. “Yeah… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep feeling nauseous at the most random times. And I swear, I smelled coffee earlier, and it made me want to throw up.”
Chris winces, stepping closer and rubbing a hand up and down your back soothingly. “I’m so sorry, baby. Can I do anything?”
You shake your head, sighing. “I don’t even know what would help. It’s just been happening out of nowhere.”
Chris presses a kiss to the side of your head, his touch warm and comforting. “Maybe you just ate something bad? Or you’re stressed?”
“Maybe,” you mumble, but you’re not entirely convinced. “Are you sure the chicken last night was fully cooked?”
“I check it twice. It was.” Chris gives you a sympathetic look. “Tell you what- I’ll make you some tea, and then we can just chill on the couch, yeah? I’ll rub your back, we can watch whatever dumb reality show you wanna put on.”
That makes you smile a little, and you nod. “Okay. That sounds nice. Thank you baby.”
Chris grins, pressing another kiss to your forehead before heading to the kettle. “Anything for my girl.”
ONE WEEK LATER
You groan as you lean over the bathroom sink, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate attempt to shake off the lingering nausea. It’s been happening every morning now- like clockwork. And as much as you’d been hoping it was just a stomach bug or something that would pass, it wasn’t going anywhere.
“Baby?” Chris’s voice is groggy, laced with sleep as he steps into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes. “You okay?”
You let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the counter. “Same as yesterday. And the day before that.”
Chris frowns, stepping closer, his hands settling on your waist as he looks you over. His touch is warm and grounding, but when his thumbs brush against your sides, you wince subconsciously.
Chris notices immediately, his brows drawing together. “Hey… why’d you flinch?”
You shake your head, still trying to wake up fully. “I didn’t-” But then his hands slide up a little higher, skimming under your hoodie, and the moment his thumbs brush against the curve of your breasts, you jolt.
Chris’s eyes widen. “Whoa. Okay. That was a reaction.”
You frown, stepping back slightly, your arms crossing over your chest. “They’ve just been… weirdly sensitive lately.”
Chris tilts his head, his gaze flicking down before his lips curl into the smallest smirk. “Not to mention…” His hands return to your sides, his touch slow, almost hesitant. “Baby, I swear to God, they look bigger. Like huge. It makes me so horny.”
You scoff. “Chris!”
“I’m serious!” He gives you a pointed look, stepping back just enough to take you in. “They’re… I don’t know, plumper? And you’ve been nauseous for over a week. You’re throwing up every morning. You don’t think…?”
You blink at him, brows furrowing. “Think what?”
Chris’s expression shifts- something between excitement and pure realization flickering across his face. He licks his lips, searching your eyes, almost as if he’s waiting for you to catch up.
“Baby,” he says slowly, carefully, “you don’t think you could be… pregnant?”
The words hang between you, heavy and thick in the quiet morning air. Your stomach twists- but not from nausea this time.
Your lips part slightly, a small laugh slipping out- almost disbelieving. “Chris, there’s no way…” But then, as you say it, the last few weeks flash through your mind. The exhaustion. The cravings. The nausea. The sensitivity. The way you haven’t used a condom with him in months and he hasn’t been pulling out.
Chris watches you closely, his smirk fading into something softer, more serious. His hands settle on your hips again, thumbs rubbing slow circles. “Baby,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, “when’s the last time you had your period?”
Your stomach drops. Your mind races as you try to remember, but the more you think about it, the more your chest tightens. You should’ve had it by now. You always keep track. But with everything going on, you hadn’t even noticed.
Chris sees the realization hit you. His hands tighten just slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. “Shit,” you whisper.
Chris lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah. Shit.”
You look up at him, heart pounding, eyes wide. “Chris… what if I am?”
He’s silent for a moment. Just looking at you. And then, slowly, his lips curl into a grin.
“Guess we should find out.”
Chris doesn’t waste a second. The moment the realization fully settles between you, he’s already moving. He grabs his phone and wallet off the nightstand, shoving his feet into the closest pair of sneakers.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, pressing a quick, firm kiss to your forehead before darting toward the front door.
You blink, still in shock. “Wait- Chris, where are you-”
But he’s already gone.
You stand there for a moment, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. This has to be a joke, right? There’s no way this is actually happening. But as you place a hand over your stomach, the reality starts creeping in.
A few minutes later, you hear the front door swing open again, followed by the unmistakable crinkle of plastic bags.
“Alright, baby, let’s do this!” Chris’s voice is practically beaming as he jogs back into the bedroom, his arms full of pregnancy tests. You stare in disbelief as he drops multiple boxes onto the bed, some falling onto the floor in the process.
“Chris,” you say slowly, eyes widening. “What the fuck is this?”
“Options,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I got every brand they had. Digital ones, line ones, ones that apparently have smiley faces-” He pauses, flipping a box over before tossing it onto the pile. “I didn’t know there were this many kinds, honestly, but we’re covering all bases.”
You shake your head, staring at the sheer amount of tests in front of you. “Ten tests, Chris?”
“At least ten,” he corrects, grinning.
You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “Why are you so happy about this?”
Chris hesitates for half a second before letting out a short laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Honestly? I don’t know. I just… am.”
You search his face, expecting to see panic or nerves, but all you find is pure excitement- like he wants this. Like the idea of you possibly carrying his baby is something he’s already embracing.
Your stomach twists, but not in a bad way. It’s terrifying and overwhelming, but with the way he’s looking at you, it also feels… oddly okay.
Chris claps his hands together, bringing you back to reality. “Alright, let’s go. Go pee on some sticks.”
You snort despite yourself. “Some?”
“All of them,” he corrects, already scooping up the tests into his arms. “We need solid confirmation, baby. I need a goddamn unanimous decision from these things.”
Shaking your head, you exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair before turning toward the bathroom. “This is insane.”
Chris follows right behind you, grinning. “This is science.”
You roll your eyes, but as you close the bathroom door behind you, Chris leans against the sink, watching you with nothing but warmth in his gaze.
“Whatever happens,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, “we’ll figure it out together, okay?”
Your chest tightens, and you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”
“Wait! Let me see what they say first. Don’t pee on anything!” Chris rips open one of the boxes with the same energy he probably had during his high school finals. He pulls out the instructions, unfolds them with an exaggerated flourish, and clears his throat.
“Alright,” he announces, squinting at the paper. “Step one: Remove the test from the wrapper.”
You snatch a test from one of the open boxes and rip it open with ease. “Done.”
Chris nods approvingly, scanning the next step. “Step two: Hold the absorbent tip in your urine stream for five seconds. Or dip it in a cup of urine for twenty seconds.”
You give him a flat look. “Absorbent tip?”
“Hey, I’m just reading what it says,” Chris says, holding up his hands in defense. He glances down again, then smirks. “Oh- this part’s important: Make sure you don’t pee on the result window. We need a clear reading, baby.”
You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the groundbreaking information, Chris.”
“Just looking out for accuracy.”
You shake your head, but your heart is thudding in your chest. This is actually happening.
Chris notices your hesitation and softens slightly, stepping closer. “You okay?”
You let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”
Chris nods, setting the instructions down on the counter before placing his hands on your hips. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “No matter what happens, we’re in this together. Got it?”
You nod, exhaling against his chest. “Got it.”
He smiles, giving you a small squeeze before stepping back. “Alright, go do your thing. I’ll be right here, being incredibly supportive and not at all annoying.”
You snort. “Mhm.”
Chris gasps dramatically. “Wow. So much doubt for the man who just spent a ridiculous amount of money on pregnancy tests for you.”
Shaking your head, you grab the cup from the counter- because there’s no way you’re risking peeing on your own hand in the middle of a life-altering moment- and step toward the toilet. “Okay, turnaround now.”
Chris throws his hands up. “I literally fucked this baby into you?!”
“We don’t know if there’s a baby yet!” You roll your eyes but do what needs to be done, filling the cup and carefully dipping the first test. Then another. And another. You cycle through each one, following the ridiculous variety of instructions. Five seconds for one. Twenty seconds for another. One where you had to cap it immediately and lay it on a flat surface.
Chris stands by the counter, eyes wide as he watches you line up ten tests in a perfect row.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “That’s a lot of science happening at once.”
You let out a breath, setting the last test down. “Now what?”
Chris grabs one of the boxes, scanning the fine print. “Now we wait.”
You swallow hard, wiping your hands on a towel before gripping the edge of the sink. “How long?”
Chris squints at the instructions. “Three minutes.”
Three minutes.
Three minutes to find out if your whole world is about to change.
Chris must sense your nerves because he steps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing your jaw. “I can set a timer. Or we can just stare at them aggressively until something happens.”
You let out a breathy laugh, leaning back against him. “Okay… let’s do it.”
Chris’s phone is already in his hand before you even say anything. He holds it up, pressing record with a grin.
“For our future kid,” he says, his voice full of barely contained excitement.
You raise an eyebrow at him. “You don’t even know if it’s positive yet.”
Chris smirks, shaking his head. “I have a feeling, baby.”
Your stomach twists as you reach for the first test. Your fingers tremble slightly, and you can feel Chris’s anticipation radiating off of him. With a deep breath, you flip it over.
Two lines.
Positive.
Your heart stops.
Chris lets out a sharp inhale, but before either of you can fully process it, you reach for the second test.
Positive.
The third.
Positive.
Every. Single. One.
Chris stares at them for half a second before a wide grin spreads across his face. “Holy shit.” His phone lowers slightly as he turns to look at you, his eyes shining. “Baby- holy shit!”
Before you can react, he grabs you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. You gasp, gripping his shoulders as a laugh bubbles out of you, your nerves momentarily forgotten.
“Chris!” You giggle, clinging to him as he twirls you.
“I knew it,” he exclaims, setting you down just enough to crash his lips against yours. The kiss is heated, desperate, but full of so much love that your chest tightens.
Then, before you even realize it, tears start slipping down your cheeks. You pull back slightly, your hand flying to your stomach as a sob escapes you.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Our baby is in my stomach.”
Chris freezes, his hands still gripping your waist. He stares at you like he’s just now fully comprehending it, like the reality of it all is truly sinking in. His lips part slightly, his breath hitching.
“Our baby,” he murmurs, and the way he says it- so full of awe, of love- makes your heart ache.
But then, almost instantly, his entire demeanor shifts. His grip tightens, his eyes darting around the room like his brain is moving a mile a minute.
“Shit. I need to tell my mom. And my dad. And my brothers.” He steps back, running a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. “What about your family? Should we call them first? And the apartment- fuck, we need to start looking at places with an extra room. Or at least be ready for when she grows up- ”
You blink. “She?”
Chris stops, looking at you dead serious. “I don’t know, baby, I just know. I have this gut feeling that my new babygirl is growing inside you right now.”
Your heart clenches at the sheer certainty in his voice.
But then he’s spiraling again. “Oh God, we don’t have anything for a baby. I need to research cribs- what’s the safest crib? And strollers- shit, what’s a good stroller brand? I don’t know anything about strollers! And- fuck, baby, we’re twenty-one. I haven’t even married you yet!”
He turns to you, panic written all over his face now, and for the first time ever, you’re the calm one.
You step forward, reaching for his hands, squeezing them tightly. “Chris, baby, breathe.”
His chest rises and falls rapidly, but he listens, taking a deep inhale as his eyes lock onto yours.
“It’s okay,” you murmur, pressing his hands against your stomach. “The way you reacted tells me all I need to know. You’re gonna be an amazing father.”
Chris swallows hard, his panic giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. His fingers flex against your stomach, like he’s already trying to connect with the tiny life growing inside you.
“You think so?” he asks, voice quieter now.
You smile, cupping his face. “I know so.”
Chris exhales shakily, closing his eyes for a moment before leaning forward, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he murmurs.
“I love you too.”
And in that moment, standing there in the tiny bathroom with ten positive pregnancy tests lined up on the counter, everything feels exactly as it should be.
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matt realizes his girlfriend isn’t ok no matter how much she denies it
wc: 1k
warnings: rly angsty, mental health struggles, ED and weight
lmk if you wanna be tagged 🫶🏻
request from @ikyoudreamofme
a/n: this was very self indulgent bc this is how i cope with shit sooo hope yall like it, if you’re struggling pls pls know ur so loved and i’m always here ❤️
dividers by @bernardsbendystraws
Never ending emptiness.
A continuous cycle of repeating the same days over and over again. It was all consuming and entirely draining. Every day I woke up and it felt like there was no end in sight, no light at the end of the tunnel.
And the worst part was that I was alone in it. No one knew, no one could know. I was terrified that if I said the words out loud that everyone would panic, scared that I was getting bad again.
It felt like I wasn’t allowed to struggle like a normal person anymore. I either had to be perfect or be completely falling apart, so I let everyone think I was perfect.
Especially my boyfriend Matt. He had been with me all through the last year and a half when everything kept falling apart, never once leaving my side. But I saw how much it hurt him watching me struggle and I never wanted to see that pain in his eyes again, knowing how scared he was of losing me.
Some days were easier to fake a smile, easier to get out of bed and pretend like everything was fine, easier to act like I was happy. Today was not one of those days.
When Matt got up to start his day I stayed in bed, wrapped in my blanket, alternating between doom scrolling and staring at the ceiling, brushing off his concern by saying that I didn't feel well.
I heard a quiet knock at the door as my eyes focused on the slow spinning of the fan blades. “Hey love you hungry? I can get you something before I have to leave for my meeting” Matt asked as he peaked his head into the dark room.
“No I’m ok, thanks baby” I said as I forced a small smile, hoping to ease his evident worry. “You sure?” He asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, “You didn't have dinner last night either. I know you don’t feel good but maybe some toast or something could help.” He offered as he gently rubbed his hand up and down my arm, i shook my head.
“Come on pretty, I don’t like you not eating this much, something small please?” He asked, gently squeezing my arm in reassurance. “Matt, hey, it's not like that I just don’t feel good, I promise ok?” I promised as I placed a hand on top of his. “Ok” he said quietly as he stood up.
But instead of leaving for his meeting he lifted up my blanket, crawling into bed and wrapping his arm around me. “What are you doing? Don’t you have a meeting?” I asked as he laid his head on my shoulder. “I’ll reschedule” He said as he pressed a gentle kiss to my skin.
“Matt I’m fine you don’t need to cancel your meeting” I tried to assure him, guilt setting in knowing he was putting off work because of me. “Nope. I know you’re not ok and I know you need me but you feel guilty asking for help so I’m not giving you an option. I’m rescheduling my meeting and staying with you, I’m going to get you something that you feel okay eating and we’re going to lay in bed because I am always here for you when you need me.”
“Do you think I’ve lost weight?” I blurted out, overwhelmed by the thoughts running through my head and Matt’s determination to be there for me. “What?” He asked, taken aback, “Do I look like I’ve visibly lost weight?” I asked again.
”What are you- love, where is this coming from?” He asked, sitting up to fully look at me, grabbing ahold of my hand. “Um you know how I spent the weekend with my dad’s family, well uh my papa pointed out that he noticed I’d lost weight and wanted to “commend” me for it and now I can’t get it all out of my head. It’s all I can think about now.” I admitted, my head down as I picked at nails.
Matt took a deep breath next to me, “Ok baby I need you to listen to me” He said as he gently pulled me up, holding both of my hands as I sat across from him. “You listening?” He asked, looking me right in my eyes, “Mhm” I nodded.
“You’re papa is a piece of shit, and he had absolutely no right to comment on your body, even if he thought it was a compliment. I am so sorry you’ve had to think about that and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. And honestly I don’t know if you’ve lost weight because its not something I pay attention to.
I’ve been with you through all of this. I thought you were beautiful before you went to treatment, I thought you were beautiful during treatment, and I think you’re beautiful now. If anything you’ve become even more beautiful because you got your light back. Your beauty does not depend on your body, your body will always be changing but your beauty will not and I’m gonna continue to love you through every change. Because your body is the least interesting thing about you baby.”
Tears pooled in my eyes as Matt spoke and gently held my face in his hands, his eyes never leaving mine. “I just want you to be able to see yourself like I do” his voice broke as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, pulling me into his chest. “I’m sorry, I know I’m not easy.” I apologized, sniffling against his chest.
”I don't want you to be easy, I just want you to be you and I want to help you when it feels hard, we’re in this together ok?” He promised, his hand covering my head. “Ok” I said as I wrapped my arms around him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you Matt”.
”Good thing you’ll never have to know because I’m not going anywhere, I love you too much.” He assured me, slowly rocking me. “I love you so much” I whispered, looking up at him, pressing my lips against his, “I love you more pretty girl, we’ve got this.”
I reminded myself that no matter how hard it got I was never alone, Matt was always going to be in my corner. I just needed to learn how to lean on him so I don’t fall.
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