Damn, you're boyfriend is hot.

Sorry— that probably sounded really fucking weird, but it's the truth. Chris was hot. Like, scream-worthy hot, the kind where you yell at the top of you're lungs and rip hair out of you're head. You still couldn't believe you scored a fucking Sturniolo boy. Like, seriously, jesus christ, it felt like winning the lottery.

Chris was every girls ideal guy, except better. Oh, so much fucking better. Carrying you're bags for you? Fuck that, Chris would pay for everything— and I mean everything. Even parking, I mean, you should see the way he snatches that credit card out of you're hand when you try to pay.

Being in vlogs was awesome too, whether it be with other vloggers, like Tara, Sam and Colby, one of their stupid ass “challenges” where someone's blindfolded or some dumb shit like that, or just hanging out in the car eating junk food during a live stream with Matt and Nick.

But if there was one thing you adored about Chris the most (if you had to pick) it was his hair. Holy fucking god, that guys hair sent you into a trance. It was the perfect length, long, but not too long to look weird, fluffy but not frizzy, a gorgeous brunette colour that shines so prettily when the sun hits it.

Holy shit, you were so gone for Chris. Good thing was, he was so hopelessly head-over-hells as well.

“Mm, yeah— just like that, ma.” Chris murmurs in his usual gravelly voice as he shifts in his spot between you're legs, splayed out in front of you with his head resting in between you're opened thighs, hands dancing across you're bare legs with a tenderness that only Chris Sturniolo could posses.

You're hands were running through his messy yet— oh-so goddamn sexy hair, gently tugging on loose stands that were poking the wrong way, before rubbing you're fingers across his scalp again, causing Chris to let out a low hum and a small smile to tug at his lips, eyes fluttering closed in his content state.

“Feels so damn good, baby.” Chris mutters, his lips parting involuntarily, causing you to smirk lightly at the sight of his upside-down expression between you're legs, you're fingers skimming through his thick, somewhat wavy hair. “God— don't ever stop.”