⌕ 🍂 trilli Ꮺ

pairing. fratboy!chris x shy!reader. genre. smut, frat au.

word count. 2.6k

❝i... i've been practicing something for you.❞

content warning. explicit content, porn with plot, slight mentions of insecurities and anxiety, awkward sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampies.

authors note. i dont usually do small fics like this for my aus, but i thought this would be fun for a small bday special. this is for my fratboy!chris and shy!reader au which, if you're new, you may need to read other prompts just to understand their dynamic.

VIRGIN? ࣭ ⭑ ( ｡ featuring . . . chris sturniolo

this will contain . . . rough dom!nerd!chris, spanking, rough sex, degradation, orgasm denial, edging, fingering, overstimulation, hair pulling, fingers in mouth, brief choking, creampie, mild humiliation, etc.

you met chris during your freshman year of college, back when gen eds still had lecture halls packed with hungover students and you were too busy flirting with the guy behind you to pay attention to the syllabus. chris sat in the front row, always on time, always typing faster than the professor could speak. you didn't talk to him at first. he was quiet, soft-spoken, a little awkward—but sharp as hell, and once you were grouped for a project in psych, you realized he wasn't shy so much as selective.

you, on the other hand, were loud, social, and unapologetically open about everything—your opinions, your hookups, your weekend party plans. you weren't ashamed of how many people you'd been with. if anything, you liked watching chris blush when you casually mentioned fucking someone in the backseat of their car or getting eaten out in the frat house laundry room. he'd adjust his glasses, press his lips together, and look anywhere but at you.

now, sophomore year, you and chris were close. close enough to hang out late in his dorm with your legs in his lap. close enough to let your jokes get borderline inappropriate. close enough that you thought you knew him. in your mind, chris was textbook virgin material—never talked about sex, never mentioned a body count, always deflected when you asked. he didn't have a girlfriend, didn't flirt, didn't date. so naturally, you assumed he hadn't gotten around to it yet. maybe he was waiting for someone special. maybe he was nervous. maybe he just didn't have the confidence. either way, the idea of chris having any real experience never even crossed your mind.

you were very, very wrong.

chris wasn't a man-whore. he wasn't the type to sleep around for sport, and he didn't brag. but he wasn't inexperienced either. seven bodies, each one intentional. a handful of casual flings, one almost-relationship, and more than enough practice to know what he was doing. he just didn't feel the need to talk about it—not to anyone. especially not you. not when he could tell how much you liked playing the dominant one in the friendship. you liked teasing him, liked pretending he didn't know anything. and chris? he liked letting you think that.

which brings you to now—sprawled out in his one-person dorm room, papers scattered across his bed, half studying and half talking shit like usual. the desk light is on, casting a soft yellow glow across the room, and the sound of some random playlist hums quietly in the background. you're dressed comfortably—stretchy shorts that ride up every time you shift and a big tee that covers just enough to make it unfair. chris, as always, looks effortless in his nerdy little uniform: black sweatpants that sag a little too low on his hips and a tight, long-sleeve compression shirt that clings to every lean muscle in his upper body. he's leaning against the wall, long legs stretched out, eyes flicking back and forth between a printout and his notes. you're not paying attention. you haven't been for at least twenty minutes.

"sooo… i slept with that guy from my art history class,"'you say suddenly, voice light and smug as you stretch out across the mattress. chris doesn't look up. just hums softly in response, the sound low in his throat. you roll onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him while you talk. "he was cute. decent mouth, boring fingers. kinda soft. i had to fake it twice."

his pen keeps moving. steady. unaffected. you narrow your eyes. "you never tell me about your sex life. like, ever. i could probably name your gpa, your favorite protein bar, and the order of your morning routine, but i have no idea what you're like in bed."

"maybe that's not somethin' you need to know," he says without missing a beat. you scoff, smiling. "so you do have one." chris just shrugs, not even looking at you. and that makes you grin wider.

"what?" you tease. "scared to tell me you're a virgin?" that gets him. not visibly—not in any dramatic way—but his pen pauses for just a second too long. his shoulders stay relaxed, but his eyes finally lift to meet yours. "you think so?" he asks, calm. flat. you nod, teasing lilt in your voice. "one hundred percent positive you're a virgin."

he stares at you. you stare right back. and the tension, usually playful, suddenly shifts. still light, but dense enough to press against your chest. his lips twitch—not quite a smile, not quite a frown—and then he says it: "wan' see what a virgin can do?" your breath catches. for a second, you think you misheard him. but the look on his face tells you otherwise. he's serious. composed. like this has been sitting in his back pocket for weeks, waiting for you to finally test him hard enough. you lean back, settling against the headboard, raising a brow. "you're serious?"

chris doesn't respond. doesn't need to. he sets his notebook aside, pushes the last of his notes away, and shifts toward you without breaking eye contact. his hands find your hips first—strong, certain—and he pulls you gently, slowly, until you're flat on your back beneath him. his knees settle between your thighs, spreading them slightly as he leans down. your shirt rides up, shorts tugged tight around the tops of your thighs, but chris doesn't even glance down. his eyes stay locked on yours as he dips in, kisses you softly.

you kiss him back, waiting for the awkward tongue or messy pressure, but it doesn't come. it's gentle, yeah, but not unsure. his lips part yours like he knows exactly how he wants to take his time, and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw as he deepens it. it's a kiss that says he's not in a hurry. not at all.

you break the kiss first, smirking as you look up at him. "typical virgin," you mutter. he doesn't react. doesn't even blink. he just lowers his head to your neck, lips brushing softly along your skin. "you don't have to be gentle with me, you know," you add, almost challenging. he hums, breath warming the dip beneath your ear. "i know."

you scoff under your breath, cocky and unimpressed. "clearly not…" and that's when he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to make you gasp—hands tightening around your hips like he's just made up his mind. his bite lingers just long enough to leave heat throbbing under your skin, and when he pulls back, his voice is lower than it's ever been.

"y'know," he says, tilting his head, "i've really had enough of the attitude. i think s'time i shut you up, yeah?" your smirk returns instantly. you roll your eyes as if he hasn't just made your heart skip. "you can try, virgin boy."

he doesn't rise to it—not with words, anyway. he just hums. quiet and calm, like he's already halfway to somewhere you can't follow. then he moves, pushing off the bed and standing at the edge with that same slow, deliberate control that's suddenly making you nervous. his hands reach out for your hips again and this time, he doesn't pull you gently—he drags you down the mattress until your thighs are hanging just slightly off the edge, knees bent, body sprawled under him like he's setting up a game he's been dying to play.

his voice comes again, firmer now: "ass up." and you listen. you shift to your stomach without a second thought, lifting your hips and arching your back into position, cheek pressed into the sheets. you feel the air hit your thighs as your oversized t-shirt rides up, and your breath catches when chris slides your shorts down to your thighs and pauses.

"no panties?" he says, voice dropping further. "been plannin' this, haven't you?" you don't answer. your face is already warm and your body is buzzing, and part of you wants to keep playing it cool—keep pretending this isn’t throwing you off balance.

bad idea.

his palm lands on your ass, fast and loud. the smack makes you jolt and hiss, more from surprise than pain, and he doesn't waste a second before rubbing over the sting with a gentle sweep of his hand. "i asked you a question, didn't i?" he says, calm but sharp.

you swallow and nod. "yeah," you breathe. "been wanting it." he lets out a soft, breathy laugh, one that sounds more like satisfaction than amusement. "mm. such a slut." his knees hit the floor behind you, and the next thing you feel is his hands—wide, steady, practiced—gripping both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart without hesitation. the room goes quiet except for your breathing and the shift of fabric and skin, and then chris hums again, deep and almost pleased.

"hm. look at that," he murmurs, staring down at your soaked cunt. "fuckin' drippin' f'me." and then he's leaning in. no warning, no teasing. his tongue meets you with full intention, licking through your folds and groaning into your skin like he's waited months for this. his hands keep you spread open while he eats—sloppy and slow at first, then precise, mouth focused on your clit until you're grinding back against him in desperation. his tongue drags up and down before circling, sucking, licking again until your arms shake from holding yourself up.

you moan loud enough that it fills the room, and chris doesn't stop. doesn't pause. he just buries his face deeper and lets you cry out, fingers digging into your ass to keep you still. you feel the tip of one finger, then two, slip inside—easing in with a slow stretch that has your mouth falling open, eyes fluttering closed. he pumps them gently while his tongue stays locked on your clit, and it's all too much, too fast, too good. your stomach tightens and your thighs begin to tremble, that pressure building deep and low—until he pulls away. everything—his mouth, his fingers, his warmth—gone.

you whine before you can stop yourself, pushing back toward him with your hips, but he's already standing up again, towering over you with a fresh edge to his voice. "aw," he says, feigning sympathy, "you wanted to cum?" you whimper in response, breath shaky. your legs are sticky with slick and your skin's hot all over. he smacks your ass again, harder than before. "use your words like a big girl."

"y-yeah," you stammer, eyes squeezed shut. "please, chris. please…" you hear the shuffle of fabric—his sweatpants sliding down, the low groan that leaves his throat when his dick springs free. your hips twitch involuntarily, needing something to touch, to feel, and then his hand is on your back again, pressing you down into the bed. "stay just like that," he mutters. "don't fuckin' move."

his dick is hot and heavy as he runs it through your slick, dragging the head over your folds, letting it catch against your entrance again and again. he lets out a quiet groan at the wet sound it makes, then finally—finally—he presses in. not soft. not gentle. he sinks into you in one rough thrust, and your mouth drops open with a strangled moan. he's big, thick, filling you all at once without a single pause to let you adjust. your hips jerk forward from the force of it, knees nearly slipping on the sheets, and chris groans behind you—low and filthy, like he's been holding back all night.

he doesn't move. just holds there, deep inside, his palm still planted on the small of your back. "still a virgin?" he asks, voice thick. you try to speak—try to throw another jab, keep the upper hand—but all that comes out is a broken moan. you manage half the sentence: "yeah, you're s-still a virg—" and he pulls out halfway, then slams back in. you cry out, thighs shaking, arms barely keeping you upright.

"since you wan' be a lil fuckin' brat," chris mutters, hips still, dick buried to the base, "you'll do the work yourself."

you whine, low and desperate, hips squirming in his grip like you're trying to retreat—but there's nowhere to go. he's still buried inside you, thick and unyielding, his palm pressed to the small of your back keeping you locked in place. you feel every inch of him, the stretch still fresh and sharp, your walls fluttering around his dick as your body tries to adjust. it's overwhelming. too full, too deep, too sudden. you shift slightly, trying to roll your hips to find some kind of rhythm, some relief—but chris doesn't move. doesn't help. he just stands there behind you, breathing heavy, watching.

"what're you waitin' for?" he says after a moment, voice flat and laced with quiet challenge. "go on. do the work. this is what you wanted, right?" you turn your head against the mattress, eyes half-lidded and lips parted as you suck in a shaky breath. you want to mouth off—want to say something smug, something cocky, keep the upper hand—but your body betrays you. your thighs tremble when you start to move, back arching deeper as you pull forward slightly, then push back onto him in a slow, testing grind. the stretch is brutal, even with how wet you are. his dick drags against every sensitive spot inside you as you try to fuck yourself on him, try to show him you can handle it. you do it again, a little faster, trying to establish a rhythm. it's messy and uneven, but it's something. your hands claw at the sheets as you rock back again, your ass slapping softly against his pelvis.

"mm, yeah," chris hums above you, his hand sliding from your lower back to your hip, fingers digging into the flesh there as he watches you fuck yourself on his dick. "that's what i thought." you don't answer. can't. your breath comes out in gasps, each roll of your hips making it harder to think. you're doing exactly what he told you to, but it's not enough. not really. your pace starts to falter after a few minutes, your thighs burning and your arms weakening beneath you, and chris notices. he can feel it—the way your movements slow, the way you sink lower into the mattress with each tired thrust. and instead of helping you, instead of rewarding the effort, he tsks under his breath like he's disappointed.

"already gettin' tired?" he mutters. "but you were talkin' all that shit earlier, weren't you?" you start to whimper, hips stuttering as you try to keep going, but he cuts you off with another sharp smack to your ass—this one harder than the rest. your body jolts forward with the impact, a moan ripping from your throat as your walls clench around him involuntarily.

"pathetic," chris says, his tone flat but dripping in mockery. "thought you could handle a 'virgin,' right? what happened to all that attitude, huh?" you try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a garbled sound—a half-broken sob against the sheets. your body feels hot all over, skin tingling, your cunt aching and tight around him. you need him to move. need him to do something.

he leans forward without warning, his chest brushing your back as his hand slides up your spine and tangles in your hair. he grips it tight, forcing your head back just enough so your cheek lifts from the mattress, and his other hand reaches around, fingers prying at your lips until two of them slip into your mouth. "open," he says, voice low and steady. "tongue out."

you obey instantly, tongue pressing against his fingers as he slides them deeper, thumb flattening on your tongue while the others rest inside your mouth. it's filthy. controlling. it leaves you drooling onto the sheets as your mouth stretches around him, throat vibrating with every sound you try to make. you moan around his fingers when he finally starts to move behind you—slow, grinding thrusts that feel impossibly deep with the way he angles his hips down. each push forward punches a breath out of your lungs, and every retreat makes you cry for more.

"mm," chris groans behind you, his voice closer now, his hips pressing harder. "fuckin' tight. y'feel that, baby? feel how good you grip me?" you moan again, louder this time, and he just pushes his fingers down harder on your tongue to shut you up. your eyes roll back, body twitching as he begins to thrust harder, rougher, fucking you like he's trying to prove a point. his hand on your hip keeps you steady, dragging you back to meet every slam of his dick, the sound of skin against skin echoing off the walls of his tiny dorm. your thighs shake uncontrollably now, and you're practically drooling around his fingers as your body starts to break apart beneath him.

"yeah?" he pants, voice ragged with effort. "feels so good, doesn't it, baby? this what you needed? needed me deep inside you? thrusting into you all rough like that?" all you can do is sob—no real words, just broken, desperate sounds as your body trembles under the force of it all. your pussy flutters around him, tight and wet and throbbing, and chris groans deep in his chest when he feels it.

"i know, baby," he murmurs. "i know it."

he pulls his fingers from your mouth and lets them trail down your chin, your spit glistening on your skin. his hand finds your throat next—not squeezing, just resting there, heavy and warm—as he keeps fucking into you at a punishing pace. you're so far gone you can't tell where your body ends and his begins, your vision blurred and your mind clouded with heat and sound and scent. his dick is so deep it feels like he's splitting you in half, like you'll never be able to think straight again without remembering what this felt like.

you thought you could handle him.

you thought he was soft.

you thought he was a virgin.

you were so, so wrong.

you don't know when your moans turn into full blown cries—somewhere between his dick slamming deep inside you and the sharp press of his hand around your throat, your body crosses a line. your legs aren't just shaking now—they're folding under you. your arms gave up minutes ago, chest collapsed into the mattress, spine arched in a perfect curve while he keeps holding you in place like he owns you. your mouth is open, your eyes squeezed shut, and everything feels tight and slick and heavy, like your body's been split into pieces and chris is the only one holding them together.

he's breathing hard now, jaw clenched above you as he fucks into you like he's possessed—deep, brutal thrusts that make your whole body jerk with each impact. his grip on your hip is so tight it might bruise. his palm slides from your throat to your jaw, forcing your face to the side so he can see the mess you've become. your spit's on your chin, your mascara smudged, and there's a thin sheen of sweat sticking your shirt to your back. he doesn't say anything for a moment. just watches. breathes. thrusts.

and then, low and clear in your ear: "you still think m'a fuckin' virgin?" you try to shake your head, but it's weak, barely a twitch. your voice comes out as a slurred moan—something like no, but not quite human. "mm. that's what i thought," he murmurs, voice dark with satisfaction. "you run your mouth like a brat, but look at you now—barely takin' me, gettin' ready to tap out."

you feel his hand slide down, fingers slipping between your legs until they find your clit again—sensitive, swollen, already throbbing from being teased. the second he touches you there, you cry out, body jolting in overstimulation. "you close?" he asks, like it's casual. like he doesn't already know the answer from the way your cunt clenches around him every time he grinds against your sweet spot.

you nod frantically, almost sobbing. "yes, yes, please—" but it's too easy. he pulls his fingers away. slows his thrusts to an agonizing roll of his hips, dragging his dick out slowly before snapping back in hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. "yeah, no," he mutters. "not yet."

"chris," you sob, back arching, toes curling into the sheets. "please—"

"should've thought about that before you ran your fuckin' mouth," he snaps, and suddenly the rhythm picks back up again. he fucks into you harder this time, like punishing you for every word you've said since the moment you walked into his room. "call me 'virgin boy' again. go on. say it."

you're incoherent. your lips move, but the only thing you can manage is a gasp, a plea, your hands grabbing at the blankets like they might save you. he laughs. fucking laughs. low and mean. "yeah. not so mouthy now, are you?" his fingers return to your clit, fast and rough, rubbing tight circles that make your hips buck against his. you're begging without words now, just high, desperate noises, whimpering into the mattress as your orgasm coils tighter and tighter until you're seconds away from snapping—and again, he stops.

you whine, full-body shaking, face crumpling against the sheets. you're soaked. trembling. ruined. "chris," you cry, voice raw. "please. i-i can't—" he grabs your hair again, pulls your head up so your ear is near his mouth. "yes you can," he says, cruel but quiet. "you wanted this to happen, you begged for this to happen, so now you have no other choice but to take it."

then he pushes your face back down. hand back on your hip. cock slamming into you again like he's trying to make you forget your own name. every thrust punches another moan out of you, rough and desperate, your body grinding into the mattress, thighs soaked and shaking as he gives you no space to recover. no escape. just him. inside you. everywhere.

"gonna cum," you choke out, voice high and broken. "go ahead," he says, voice thick with arousal. "cum all over my fuckin' dick, mama." and you do. hard. your whole body seizes under him, every nerve on fire, pussy clenching so tight around him that he groans—loud and deep—like the sound gets dragged out of him from somewhere in his chest. your orgasm crashes over you in waves, dizzying and uncontrollable, your cries muffled by the sheets, thighs twitching violently as you come harder than you ever have in your life.

"fuck—there you go," chris grits through his teeth. "just like that. look so fuckin' good when you fall apart." he doesn't stop. he keeps fucking you through it, deep and relentless, using your spasming cunt to chase his own high. he's not even trying to hold back now—his grip turns bruising, his breathing ragged, dick slamming into you at a brutal pace until you're crying all over again.

"shit—gonna—" chris cuts himself off with a groan, then slams into you one last time and holds there, buried deep, his dick twitching as he spills inside you. the heat of it floods your already-sensitive body, and all you can do is moan, breathless and wrecked. chris stays still for a few seconds, head tipped back, chest rising and falling as he comes down from it.

then he slowly pulls out, careful with your oversensitive body, your hips jerking as his dick leaves you. his cum leaks down your thighs almost immediately, and you can barely move. your body is limp, shaking, forehead pressed into the sheets as you gasp for air. he bends over you, fingers brushing your lower back, light now. reverent. "you okay?" he whispers, voice softer again. real.

you nod weakly, and he presses a kiss to your spine. then another to your shoulder. and finally one to the base of your neck, right where he bit you earlier—like sealing it. like claiming it. you don’t say anything for a while. you don't need to.

he already proved everything he needed to.

𖥔﹒ 💌 ˇ ⋆ ╱ for my annoying ass wife @sturnsblogs 🙄🙄 YES I KNOW IT'S OFF TOPIC, but i have another one coming for you either later tonight or tomorrow. also not proofread, so any mistakes you see are figments of your imagination.

taglist ;ଓ @japblogs @courta13 @sturnsblogs @sturniolo-szn2 @theowensturniolo @jvngle18 @chrisgirltilidie2 @urfavvbilliemunch @devotedlyteenagemusic @vxmp42o @sturnsflirt @chriss-slut @oopsiedaisydeer @fawnsprings @mattsd0llfac3 @matthewswifeyy @chrisbambi @mivogjk @adorechris @evansturn @skibidisturniolo @babyt0matoes

divider credits. @issysh3ll

this is a part of a series, but can be read on its own! everyone thank @y3sterdaysproblem for proof reading :3. CONTENTS: smut heavy-plot, p n v , virginity talk??? + more . . .

star was laid flat across chris’  bed, his sheets twisted between her legs as she rambled on and on about interstellar. her voice bounced lazily off the walls, half-thoughts spilling out while she stared at the ceiling like she hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes picking the whole movie apart.

chris sat at the small desk in the corner, breaking up bud over the sketchbook he’d been working in earlier. he wasn’t really paying attention to the drawing anymore, just nodding along as she talked, fingers moving slow and practiced. lila was out for the night, sleeping over at a friend’s place, so the evening had been quiet—takeout, a movie, and now the joint he was almost finished rolling.

“no, but seriously,” star said, turning her head toward him, “the whole fifth dimension thing? like, if time isn’t linear, then how do we even know we’re not already dead and just watching it all in reverse?”

“jesus christ,” chris muttered, licking the edge of the paper. “i liked it better when you were talkin’ about the cornfield.”

he sealed it, smoothed it down, and finally stood up, stretching his arms above his head before walking over to the bed.

as soon as he sat down, star moved without thinking—climbing straight into his lap, legs folding around him like it was nothing. he settled against the headboard, leaning back as she got comfortable, her arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

“you’re warm,” she murmured, cheek pressing to his collarbone.

“you’re needy.”

“you like it.”

he lit the joint, took the first hit, then passed it to her. they fell quiet for a minute, the kind of quiet that only ever showed up when they were high together—slow, lazy, and soft around the edges.

he caught her staring a second later. just… looking at him.

“what,” he said, glancing over.

she shrugged, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “you’re pretty.”

his ears flushed instantly. he rolled his eyes, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “shut up.”

“m’serious,” she grinned, taking the joint back and inhaling slowly. “you have like, really stupidly pretty eyes. it’s upsetting.”

“thank you baby”,his hands found her thighs without thinking, fingers kneading softly at the bare skin there. her hand drifted to his jaw, thumb brushing over the faint stubble he hadn’t bothered shaving.

“you should grow this out,” she said.

he snorted. “ma said i look like a bum when i don’t shave.”

“well,” she shrugged, “guess i’m really attracted to bums then.”

he huffed out a laugh, rubbed his thumb along her inner thigh. “kinda feels like your legs three days after you shave.”

she gasped, smacked his chest. “ok asshole.”

“m’just sayin’,” he laughed.

she shook her head, climbing off his lap like she was done with him, but he caught her waist before she could get far and pulled her back down, flipping them easy. she landed against the mattress with a soft thud, his weight settling beside her, head dropping to her stomach.

her fingers went straight to his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like she always did. he sighed, melted into it, still holding the joint between his fingers.

the edge of her tank top had ridden up somewhere in the shuffle, exposing a sliver of her stomach, warm and soft beneath his cheek. he pressed a lazy kiss there without really thinking.

she laughed. “that feels weird.”

he didn’t respond. just took another slow drag.

“are you really fallin’ asleep?”

“playin’ with my hair like that,” he mumbled, “you’re askin’ for it.”

she tugged lightly at the strands between her fingers. “no, don’t go to sleep.”

“would be your fault.”

he shifted, adjusting to look up at her, one hand bracing on the bed—and accidentally flicked ash across her stomach.

“chris,” she said flatly.

he blinked, then looked down. “shit. my bad.”

she was already swiping at it, flicking the rest onto the floor. “you just branded me, i hope you’re happy.”

“kinda,” he grinned.

her fingers went back to moving through his hair, slow and easy, scratching lightly at his scalp in a rhythm that had him practically melting against her. but somewhere in the silence, somewhere between her nails dragging along the back of his neck and the way her breathing shifted beneath him, something in his chest tightened.

she tugged gently at a handful of his hair, half playing, half not, and he exhaled against her stomach, eyes fluttering shut for a second too long.

then he kissed her there again. soft, just a peck.

then another a little lower.

she didn’t say anything and didn’t stop touching him.

he pushed himself up just enough to lean over, reaching past her to the nightstand, stubbing the joint out in the ashtray before shifting back over her.

he kissed her once—slow, his lips pressing to hers like he had all the time in the world. she kissed him back just as slow, tongue brushing against his, her hand curling at the nape of his neck.

they pulled apart for a breath, and he didn’t go far. just pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, then her jaw, then lower.

her breath hitched when he found the spot just beneath her ear, his mouth opening slightly, tongue dragging over the skin before he sucked. not hard, just enough to pull a quiet sound from her throat.

“what are you doing,” she asked, barely above a whisper.

he mumbled something into her neck, but it was too low to catch.

his mouth kept moving—down the slope of her neck, across her collarbones. he stopped just above the swell of her chest, nosed at the hem of her tank like he was thinking about it, then sat back on his knees.

his hands slid under the fabric, resting gently at her waist. his thumbs rubbed soft circles into her skin as he stared down at her, eyes glassy and red-rimmed, lips kiss-swollen and parted.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he said, voice quiet and real. “you know that?”

star’s eyes flicked away for half a second, something shy pulling at her mouth. her cheeks flushed deeper, the ache between her legs sharp and growing. chris’ hands kept moving, slow up and down her sides, fingertips dragging along her skin like he couldn’t decide where to settle, like he wanted to memorize every inch.

“if i was any higher i’d could probably cry over it,” he mumbled.

she laughed, her hand resting against his stomach. “you’re stupid.”

he smirked, fingers drifting lower, toying lazily with the waistband of her sweats. her breath caught the second his pointer finger slipped underneath, brushing against the soft skin just beneath. it tickled a little, and she squirmed, smiling.

then she sat up, closing the distance between them, hands finding the back of his neck as she pulled him in for another kiss. it was even slower this time, a little more open, a little more sure. he kissed her back without hesitation, one hand finding the small of her back as the other braced them both.

he kissed her down onto the bed, their mouths still locked, and shifted his body until his hips pressed flush to hers. the weight of him settled between her legs, and the second she felt the shape of him— already getting hard, even through the layers between them—her whole body reacted.

her hips lifted slightly, trying to get closer, the friction sparking something desperate deep in her gut.

their kiss turned sloppy fast, tongues dragging, teeth brushing, soft whimpers falling from her mouth as he started to rock into her, slow and steady. her thighs squeezed around him, hips lifting to match his pace.

his hand found her hip, gripping firm, guiding her into him. their rhythm synced fast, practiced without ever having done this before.

“fuck,” he muttered against her mouth, eyes flicking down to where their hips were moving together. his forehead rested against hers as they looked down, breath hot between them.

it was practically dry humping at that point—both of their sweats pushed low, underwear clinging damp between them, his cock grinding against her clit in perfect rhythm. he groaned, jaw clenched, whole body tense.

“star,” he breathed, “if we don’t stop, i’m gonna come in my fuckin’ pants.”

she let out a breathy laugh, voice shaky. “should we stop?”

he nodded fast. “yeah… yeah, we should stop.”

but he didn’t.

his hips pressed harder into hers, grinding slow and deep, and the way his cock dragged right against her clit made her gasp.

“chris—” she whined, hips stuttering.

he kissed her jaw, her neck, her mouth again, fingers digging into her waist.

she tried to speak but it came out in broken gasps, her voice catching—“y-you’re…, you’re not stopping, chris.”

his groan was low, almost guttural. “i know, baby. m’sorry… jus’ feels so fuckin’ good.”

she moaned again, louder now, grinding up into him, her face flushed and eyes glassy.

he kissed her hard, barely holding himself together, completely lost in the way she moved against him. both of them soaked through, shaking from the pressure, and neither of them pulling away.

the air between them felt too hot, too tight, their bodies grinding together in that perfect rhythm, both breathless and completely gone. chris could feel how wet she was even through the layers—her cunt practically pulsing against him every time his cock dragged over her clit. it was slow but messy, and chris was fucking thriving off of it.

“fuck, baby,” he muttered, hips jerking into her harder, “you feel so good like this.”

she whined under him, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, her head tipping back against the pillow, exposing her neck. he kissed it without thinking, sucked just hard enough to hear the sound she made when he did.

he rocked into her again and she moaned, hips rolling up to meet him.

“chris,” she gasped, “please…”

he gritted his teeth, buried his face in her neck. “please what?”

she squirmed, hands gripping his arms now. “please fuck me.”

he groaned loud against her skin, like it physically knocked the air out of him. his hips bucked hard without warning, cock grinding right against where she needed him most.

he started to reach down, already fumbling to get his sweats low, heart pounding, mind foggy, body aching for it.

but then he froze and his breath caught, the weight of what she said crashed into him all at once.

they’d never done this. not all the way, and he was already halfway there like his body hadn’t even asked permission, even when he hadn’t stopped to ask her.

he lifted his head, eyes glassy, jaw tight. “wait—fuck, wait, are you sure? i don’t wanna do this if you feel like you have to—”

but before he could finish, her hand slipped between them.

she slid it right under the waistband of his sweats, fingers wrapping around his cock, he almost collapsed right there.

she looked up at him, dead serious, eyes wide and clear despite how wrecked she looked.

“i want this,” she said, voice steady. “i want you. please.”

he didn’t respond with words, his mouth crashed into hers, hot and fucking desperate, hand moving fast to shove his sweats and boxers down. hers followed, her hips lifting as he helped her out of hers, both of them half-shaking, fumbling, kissing through every second like they couldn’t afford to stop.

he reached blindly for the drawer beside the bed, still kissing her, half on top of her now as his hand rummaged through the mess inside—sketch pencils, a lighter, receipts, loose change—but no condoms.

“fuck me,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look, voice low and tight. “shit, shit, shit.”

star blinked up at him, still catching her breath. “what?”

he sat up, running a hand down his face. “i don’t have any.”

she furrowed her brows. “i saw some in there like… not even a few weeks ago?”

“yeah, i threw ‘em out.”

“you threw them out?”

“they were expired. and we never—” he waved a hand between them, “—we never got this far so i wasn’t exactly in a rush to buy more.”

star stared at him, quiet, lips parted.

he sighed, already leaning back like he was calling it. “it’s okay, we’ll just… sleep. i’ll grab some tomorrow and we can—”

“you’ve lost your fuckin’ mind if you think i’m going to sleep right now.”

his eyes snapped to hers.

“chris,” she said, voice serious, “i have never wanted to be fucked this badly in my life.”

his mouth opened. nothing came out.

“you could just go raw.”

his eyes widened, like full-body shock.

“what—” his voice cracked. “what?”

“as long as you pull out, we should be good, right?”

he stared at her. blinked. nodded slowly.

she tilted her head. “so what are you waiting for?”

he swallowed, hard. “uh—i’ve never gone raw before.”

she blinked at him. “huh?”

“not even once.”

“with all your hookups?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

he shook his head. “no.”

“why?”

he scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of where to look. “i don’t know. it’s just… personal. felt like too much.”

she stared at him, then let out a soft breath, sitting back against the pillows. the room went quiet for a second.

“…so this is kinda like your virginity too,” she said, a slow smile creeping up her face. “raw virginity.”

his head dropped. “you’re so stupid.”

“no but like. this is kinda beautiful.”

he looked at her, deadpan. “shut the fuck up.”

she laughed, loud and breathy, and he couldn’t help it—he laughed too, burying his face in her neck for a second.

when it faded, she looked at him again, more serious this time. “but i’m being serious. i’m ready. and i’m more than okay with it. as long as you are.”

he didn’t hesitate. “ ‘course i am.”

their lips met again, full of something warm and dizzying. he settled between her legs, his cock resting against her soaked cunt, and everything in him screamed to take it slow.

he lined himself up, his hands gripping her waist, her legs wrapping around him without him even asking. he kissed her again—one soft press to her lips, then another to her cheek, then her jaw.

he pushed in slow.

her breath hitched, fingers locking around his wrists. he went inch by inch, stopping when he felt her tense, brushing his thumb over her ribs, waiting for her to nod before going further.

once he was fully inside her, he stilled.

like completely still, afraid to hurt her in any way. 

his forehead dropped to hers, their breath mingling, her walls fluttering around him as she adjusted. he didn’t say a word—just stayed there, holding her hand, chest heaving.

“chris,” she whispered after a while, voice barely there, “you can move.”

he still didn’t, too caught up in trying not to come right then and there.

her hips rocked upward, slow and tentative, trying to get friction.

he groaned—loud—eyes squeezing shut. “baby… fuck.”

“please.”

his hips rolled forward, just once, and she whimpered, legs tightening around him.

she was a mess beneath him, panting, moaning, her body twitching with every slow drag of his cock inside her. he tried to stay calm, to take his time, but her cunt was clenching around him so tight, so perfect, and the way she sounded—

“shiiiiit,” he breathed, “you’re squeezin’ me like that and expectin’ me to behave?”

“can’t help it,” she whimpered, back arching. “feels so good.”

he kissed her again, messy and deep, his hand locking around her thigh as he started to fuck her—slow but deeper now, a familiar rhythm catching.

“you’re drivin’ me crazy,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. feel so close to you.”

her eyes rolled back, mouth falling open around a moan. she gripped at his back, her nails dragging down his shoulder blades.

he was losing it—hips stuttering, brain fogged out, every nerve in his body lighting up.

“fuck, star,” he groaned, “i haven’t fucked in months, i’m gonna fuckin’ embarrass myself.”

she shook her head, gasping. “don’t care—keep going.”

chris let out the softest “fuck,” breath all tangled up in hers, like he was trying to hold back and falling apart anyway. his hands tightened around her waist, dragging her hips just a little closer as he fucked back into her, slow and deep and so unbelievably careful. like he didn’t trust himself not to lose it if he went too hard too fast.

but star wasn’t shy anymore.

every thrust had her moaning, legs wrapping tighter around him, hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer like she didn’t care where it ended as long as it was him. her head fell back against the pillow, jaw slack, lips parted as her whimpers turned desperate.

“chris,” she breathed, voice wrecked, “feels so good, i don’t wanna stop—”

“not gonna,” he murmured, mouth dragging along her collarbone, “you’re takin’ it so good, doin’ so good for me.”

his pace quickened. not rough, but more intent. less hesitation, more need. his body rolled into hers, every drag of his cock pressing deep, nudging that spot inside her that made her hips stutter and her walls tighten.

and god, he felt it.

the way she clenched around him, again and again, her whole body twitching like she was losing control—he was right there with her, sweat beading at his brow, muscles tense like one more second inside her would wreck him.

“you close?” he asked, barely holding it together, voice hoarse.

she nodded, cheeks flushed, tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes from how overwhelming it all felt. “so close,” she whimpered, “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between them, thumb rubbing tight, slow circles over her clit while he fucked her through it. she broke apart seconds later—high-pitched and breathless, her back arching, whole body tightening around him as she came hard, moaning his name like it was all she had left.

chris nearly lost it right then.

“shit, baby—fucking hell dude, i’m gonna—where do you want—”

“i don’t care jus’ want it,” she breathed out, chest still heaving, eyes glassy.

he nodded quickly, kissed her one more time, then pulled out with a low groan and wrapped his hand around himself. he jerked once, twice—eyes locked on hers—before he came hard, warm stripes of it spilling across her belly while he groaned her name through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body locking up from the release.

he collapsed onto his side next to her, panting, one arm lazily thrown across her waist as they both tried to catch their breath.

neither of them spoke for a minute.

it was just labored breathing, skin against skin and the faint hum of the TV still on in the background and the sound of their hearts trying to slow down.

chris finally lifted his head, looked down at the mess across her stomach, then back up at her and they locked eyes.

star snorted.

he blinked. “what.”

“that was so romantic,” she laughed, voice still wrecked. “looked me dead in the eyes while you came on my stomach. movie scene type shit.”

he groaned, dropped his face into her shoulder, laughing too now. “you’re such a pain in the ass.”

“ok but tell me i’m wrong.”

“you’re not,” he mumbled, still breathless.

they laid there a little longer, his hand drifting over her side, slow and soft, like he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. then he sat up, grabbing the towel off the floor and gently wiping her stomach clean, quiet as he did it.

“you okay? was it okay?” he asked once she was settled again, hand still on her hip.

she nodded, turning into him, burying her face in his chest. “more than okay.”

he kissed the top of her head. “good.”

they curled into each other, her leg tossed over his hip, his arm wrapped around her back. he was still coming down from it, mind racing but body soft, warm all over.

she traced lazy shapes into his chest.

“you really never went raw before?” she asked, teasing but genuine.

he nodded. “nah, not once.”

“so technically we lost something together.”

he glanced down at her, eyes soft. “guess we did.”

“gross,” she muttered, grinning.

｡˚ ♡︎ ‘PRINCE CHARMIN’S’ KISS

IN WHICH … fratboy!chris wanted to be nerd!readers first kiss. or, aka, her ‘prince charmin’ kiss.

just some kissin’ 💋 ( this was way longer than intended …… )

based on my bot : first kiss.

“wait wait wait. you’re being serious right now?— you’ve never kissed anyone before?” chris asks, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sat across from you on his bed, the abandoned textbook in his hands a testament to the unexpected turn the conversation and the tutoring had taken.

you mentally slapped yourself, your head drooping forward and your eyes scrunching shut as a wave of regret washed over you. with a heavy sigh, you lifted your gaze back up to meet his, and shook your head. "nope," you affirmed, punctuating the word with a pop of your lips, your lips pursing together almost awkwardly, as you shift on his mattress, finding yourself growing restless.

“damn, nerd.” chris muttered. he sets the textbook down and shifts so that he’s leaning back against the headboard, his eyes on you, a mix of surprise and disbelief written all over his face. he shakes his head, processing the information. he then shoots you a teasing smile, his eyebrows raising suggestively as he asks, "are you a prude or somethin’, then? d’ya just, tease every guy?” his eyes fixate on you with a mix of mischief and curiosity.

you roll your eyes at the absurdity of his query, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. "i’m not a prude!" you protested with mock indignation, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. chris catches the pillow easily, holding it in his lap and chuckling at your protest. "oh yeah? then what's y’ deal? are you just saving your first kiss for prince charming or somethin, waitin’ for a curse to be broken’ by a true loves kiss, y/n-ie?” he continues to tease, not showing any signs of giving up, as he pouts at you playfully.

⤷ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ; 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤!𝘧𝘸𝘣!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘹 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤!𝘧𝘸𝘣!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

⊹₊⟡⋆

a/n: heard yall loud and clear

happy easter from your favourite bunny and friends <3

9:28 pm

matt was desperate. this wasn’t the usual hard-on he’d get after thinking too hard about all the things you to have done or could do together—he was being starved. for the first time since you’d started dating, he didn’t have you at his beck and call to fix whatever problem he was having. that’s when you got it.

attachment: 1 video

“don’t have much time,” matt’s hushed voice immediately came through your speakers when you clicked on his message, the sounds of him shuffling following close behind as he adjusted his camera to finally reveal what he wanted you to see most—his painfully hard dick in his hand. it was nice a pretty, already leaking precum from having been neglected as the dim light of the tour bus highlighted every vein. “i- i know no touching ourselves is in the rules, but i can’t help it… need you so bad.”

the angle shifted sloppily again before finally giving you another full view of his dick, making it clear he wasn’t used to things like this. then, his slender fingers wrapped nicely around his girth, giving it a light squeeze before pumping it slowly. he sucked in a sharp breath behind the camera, exhaling a low grown as he repeated his actions a little faster. “wish this was you,” he whispered, sounding almost out of breath, “you know how much i love your soft hands, don’t you? really feeling like i take ‘em for granted now…”

with that, his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, giving it the attention it begged for when he spread the beads of liquid around it, sucking in another sharp breath at the sensitivity. after a short moment, his hand went back to tugging at his cock, must faster and more aggressive now than before. “oh shiiitt,” he drawled, the slapping sounds of him pumping himself in such a rushed manner echoing in his microphone.

suddenly, he gasped when he felt his balls drawing in close, camera flipping to show his face twisting in pleasure, eyes squinting. “baby, i’m go-“ his voice cracked, a whimper pulling from his throat before his head fell onto the backrest behind him, “m’gonna cum,” he finished in a whine

the camera flipped again, another view of his practically dripping dick right in front of your face. it jumped in his hand, but his pace remained unwavering for a minute, bringing him to his climax fast. spurts of white liquid shot out of his twitching length, and needy groans fell from matt’s pink lips repeatedly. a bit of his release even shot up at the lense because of how close he was holding his phone, the corner blurred by his cum as he pumped himself through his climax.

once he’d finished, you could still see the part of his stomach exposed from having lifted his shirt up tensing as he came down. a few more whimpers escaped his mouth as you heard him catching his breath, only to be caught a bit off guard by the camera flipping to show his now fucked out face again.

“i love you,” matt spoke to the camera almost immediately, hardly bothering to finish catching his breath, “miss you so much,” was the last the he said before bringing the phone up to his face, the sound of him kissing it slightly cut off when the video finishes.

boy were you wet.

a/n. need this full pic badd

the cold metal of his ring against your warm skin caused a shiver to travel up your spine, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. he was barely undressed, the blue button up over his long sleeve thermal open and his pants only pulled down to his knees—you two only had so much time before his brothers came back.

PORNSTAR — CHRIS STURNIOLO

in which .. you and chris decide to make a sex tape

smut, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, eating, filming of a sex tape, swearing, bulge kink (kinda), use of pet names

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