˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ INCLUDED: loser!chris x fem!reader, smut, switch!chris, dry-humping, oral (fem receiving), p in v (missionary), breeding, cursing, make up & make out type sex.
You and Chris have never fought before. With the exception of a few petty arguments that were resolved within minutes, the two of you could never find it in yourselves to be pissed at each other for an extended period of time. The friendship between you guys was too tightly-knit to come undone over any small issue...
But last night wasn’t anything small.
You both ended up in your apartment after an evening out together. You felt drained, Chris felt drained, the whole atmosphere of your compact living room was drained lifeless. It killed you. It wasn't the usual, lively, setting that you guys shared. Something felt... off, and you just couldn't put it aside.
God, you wish you had, though. You wish you never brought up your gut-feeling in the first place.
Bitter and hurt words were thrown around as if you were both suppressing your frustration for far too long. While you initially started the conversation in an attempt to achieve some deeper communication, it all swiftly spiraled out of control. There was no communication whatsoever. Chris made you feel weak, and you made him feel confused: a recipe for tasteful disaster.
So, you kicked him out for the night!
It felt as though the previously comforting environment of your living space had gone cold the second his presence was absent. You were forced to sleep off the eerily unsettling thoughts in your head that were telling you how stupid you were for messing things up with your closest friend. He was mad at you. For the first time in the history of your relationship, he was mad at you. It was a feeling you didn't know how to accept. The boy that had a tooth-rottingly sweet spot for you in his heart toughened up once and for all.
As much as you were horrified of losing him, you were even more scared of pushing him away by trying to reach out.
Your room became your new safe-haven as the following day progressed. The only things that lured you out of bed were the bathroom and the snacks in the kitchen. It was draining being around Chris last night, but nothing made you feel more empty than losing him... losing his touch and the gentle words he used…
it’s a good thing he was experiencing the very same withdrawal symptoms from your short-term separation that you were.
He was at your door past midnight as if it was clockwork. You were used to him coming over at this hour when you called him for some sort of release, but he wasn’t called this time. He arrived by his own free-will, wearing his usual, distressed, jeans with an oversized hoodie that smelled like a mix of weed and his intoxicating scent. All you had on was a cozy bra paired with some tiny sleep shorts. It made you a bit nervous at first, but you calm yourself down when you remember that it’s just Chris. He’s seen you in your worst and your most nude states, there’s no judgement left in him.
You agreed to let him in almost immediately. You didn’t have any hard feelings towards him, only pained, apologetic ones.
Despite the low volume of the TV, the movie that you both agreed to watch was the only noise in the living room for a moment— the same living room that was filled with indescribable tension only one night prior. It felt like the murmur of the film in front of you was taunting. It put an emphasis on the silence that you were both struggling to break from your distanced seats on the couch. It made it feel like the walls were caving in, getting tighter and tighter until you were forced to acknowledge each other… so you finally spoke.
“I’m sorry, Chris-“
“Don’t.” He cuts you off in an instant, as if he was prioritizing the quietness of the room.
There’s still a lack of eye contact between you two, but you’re observing him as his gaze stays locked on his lap. He’s contemplating. He keeps shaking his head like he’s trying to fight off some impulsive idea. You don’t dare to break the silence again.
“Don’t…” He eventually repeats after an extended pause, his voice a little softer this time as he finally lifts his stare to meet yours.
You’ve seen this twinkle in his eyes before— the innocent look of pure neediness and yearning. Your expression stays warm and forgiving, silently beckoning him to act on his undeniable instincts.
A deep exhale leaves his pouty lips as he shifts closer… and closer… scooting next to you until you can feel the denim of his pants on your exposed thigh.
He bites his cheek in hesitation as he lifts his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone back-and-forth.
“ ‘m sorry, doll…” He murmurs, his voice nearly breaking in raw desperation. “ ‘m so sorry…”
He inches his face closer to yours with every coo, clearly wanting to provide some sense of physical reassurance. He knows you, after all. He knows how to make you feel better… how to make your day… how to make you scream. He just wants things to be okay between you two again.
Which is why he leans in, closing the gap between you the moment your eyes wordlessly glimpse at his pout.
His soft lips melt into yours almost immediately, and you both can’t help but sigh in satisfaction and relief. There’s no bad blood… just desire and a deep need for forgiveness.
The soft, wet smacking of your mouths now accompanies the sound of the much-ignored TV. His kiss always feels familiar, maybe a little too familiar considering your status of "strictly friends", but you wouldn't dare to put an end to your intimacy. Hooking up with Chris is more than just some exchange, it's both of you aching to please each other. There's nothing transactional about the emotional dependency you guys have on one-another.
His breathing gets heavier and heavier with every slick movement of your lips and tongue. He's practically panting from the sensual make out alone, and his body is squirming ever-so-slightly as his arousal awakens. It's a tell-tale sign that he needs you, and that thought alone always makes you give in.
Your kiss stays fluid as you gently shift yourself to straddle his waist, grabbing the wrist of his hand that's resting on your cheek and switching it to sit on your thigh.
“Shit, ma…” He sighs, the smallest hint of a whine leaves his throat as the kiss deepens from your newfound closeness, and he gives your legs a gentle squeeze of approval. The soft flesh of your bare skin makes him feel like a starved man, his hands beginning to absentmindedly stroke and massage at your plush thighs, but it’s still not enough.
He greedily slips his hands down to your ass, pushing and pulling you against his crotch to achieve a satisfying friction. Another pleasured noise shakes out of him as you gain your own rhythm, rolling your lower-half against his as you let his grip guide you.
“Thaaat’s it… atta girl.” His breathless voice praises. There’s something so magical about dry-humping your best friend.
You push down on him a little more, applying pressure to heighten the blissful rubbing as his words encourage you. As usual, he becomes a whimpering mess as you start to take control of him, breathing hard and struggling to kiss back, but the feeling of his erection pushing up into you weakens you just as much.
His hips subconsciously buck up into yours, twitching and seeking any part of you to fuck into. Foreplay never lasts long with him.
You notice his head dip down to your neck, and you tilt your head a bit to allow him in… but he has other plans.
He uses his grip on you to toss you back onto the couch, leaving you sprawled under him as he sucks and nibbles your neck… down to your collarbone… continuing to your breasts… and ending between your legs. All of his actions illicit quiet squeals from you, but the only thing he can focus on is getting a taste of you— of his special friend.
“Chris-…” You pant as his lips pepper kisses along your lower stomach and inner thighs, trying to get you even more worked up before carefully tugging off your shorts and discarding them onto the floor.
You moan lowly as he uses his slender fingers to trace up and down your panties, working along your core until he reveals the wetness that begins to soak through. He just stares in awe, watching as the damp stain spreads across the feminine fabric. Chris loves knowing how messy he gets you, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have a similar stickiness in his own underwear.
“Look at that… ‘s that all for me?” He teases, pressing a light kiss to ur clothed clit as he continues delicately rubbing you. “Knew you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at me forever, pretty.”
With that, he gently peels off your ruined panties, letting them lay in the same pile as your shorts. His hoodie lands on the floor next, followed by his shirt, more and more layers being shed by the second.
“Got the prettiest fucking pussy…” He coos as he lowers himself between your legs once again, smiling at your glistening folds. “Gonna make her feel so good for me, yeah? Gonna give you a real apology.”
His teeth playfully sink into your thigh as he looks up at you with a devilish grin, giving you the perfect amount of pain before diving into your wetness with an indescribable hunger and propping your legs up onto his shoulders. The contrast between the two sensations catches you deliciously off-guard, and both of your hands land in his hair in an attempt to ground yourself.
“Oh, fuck!” You curse as his tongue laps up every bit of arousal you have. Not only is he aiming to make you feel good, he wants the pleasure that comes from your validating reactions. “That’s so good, baby… so good.”
He whines softly against you, burying his face even deeper as he suckles your sensitive bud. Being praised is his fuel. It’s his main reason to keep going, no matter how exhausted he gets. No level of dominance within him can ever push away his love for being appreciated.
Your hips rock into his face as he continues to lick and suck on you like the tastiest candy in the world, your hands beginning to tightly grab fistfuls of his hair. Your words are getting caught in your throat and stifled by moans, but it’s clear-as-day just how close you are.
“Already?” He chuckles cockily, messily kissing your heat before pulling his face away and shaking his head. The loss of the toe-curling sensation makes you look up at him with puppy eyes as he towers over you. “Tsk… not yet, doll. Gotta let me feel ya first.”
He prepares you first, making sure to monitor your expressions as he pushes his middle and ring finger into your aching cunt.
Your bottom lip gets bitten between your teeth with a gasp as he curls his fingers inside of you, making sure you’re properly stretched out for him as you let out lengthy, pleasured hums.
“So damn tight…” He mutters in admiration before retracting his fingers from you, quickly sucking them clean as if it’s second nature.
The clanking of his metal belt only makes you more eager, and you have to fight off the urge to touch yourself as he slides the accessory from its loops and lets it fall to the side.
He pops open the button of his jeans and unzips them with zero hesitation, only pulling them down below his boxers, not wanting to waste any time taking them all the way off. You’re both far-too-horny for that.
You’re able to see a small wet spot on his boxers before those are tugged down as well, and your vision is confirmed when you see how slippery he is with pre.
“C’mere, angel.” He grunts, grabbing your waist to slide you further down the couch and closer to him.
Sticky noises overpower the irrelevant, still-playing movie as Chris strokes himself, making sure he’s perfectly hard and ready for you.
A consensual nod is exchanged between you both before he runs his tip along your slit, getting it nice and slick before sinking into your drooling hole.
Your moans blend together as he slides in-and-out of you for the first few thrusts, getting nice and situated with your warm walls as you get adjusted to his perfect size. He smirks as he watches himself penetrate you, noticing the ring of arousal already dampening his cock.
“Feels so perfect inside…” He groans, moving his hands to your hips to start fucking you with more fervor.
“God- you fill me up so good.” You return the filthy conversation, your voice shaky with overwhelming bliss.
As expected, your words give him a boost of adrenaline, and he drives his dick into you at a quickened pace. He loves the way your boobs bounce when he starts drilling you deep and rough— it’s hypnotic.
He lets go of a breath, his eyes wandering all across your body like it’s a prized piece of art. The detail that particularly catches his eye is the way he can see the outline of his length in your tummy.
One of his hands impulsively presses down on the stomach bulge, making your moans become squeakier and whinier. He just can’t help it… it’s a beautiful sight.
The tension grows thicker and thicker as you both feel knots and tangles in your lower abdomens, your highs approaching quicker than anticipated.
“Y’gonna let me bust inside, mama?” He asks, already having to hold himself back from letting go immediately. He really is trying to stay strong… you just make it so hard to last.
“Beg.” You reply sternly, challenging his dominant lean with one simple word.
He scoffs and shakes his head, not wanting to falter… but he knows better than to be a brat with you. He knows he’ll never reject an offer to be submissive.
He returns his gaze to you, tightly locking eyes.
“Please-… fuck… please let me cum inside you, baby…” His soft voice pleas, the genuine yearning behind his words evident. It’s like music to your ears.
“Do it… finish inside, sweet boy, let me feel it…” You try to sound as powerful as possible, but your orgasm cuts you off and your back arches right as you finish your demand.
The way you clench around him as your climax gushes out is too much to handle, and he follows your lead, making sure to pump himself in extra deep as he releases his load inside of you.
The TV is entirely drowned out by the pornographic noises that erupt throughout the apartment.
You flop back down against the couch after your high washes over you, leaving you spent as Chris gives a few, final, thrusts to empty himself.
He collapses onto your chest without a second thought, shamelessly craving your aftercare.
“Good boy.” You pant softly, running your hands through his soft, sweaty, hair as both of you regain your senses.
“Shut up.” He chuckles tiredly, wanting to hate how easily he folds for you… he knows he loves it though. He’s a sucker for being babied, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.
The glow of the TV is dim, and it provides no disturbance as the both of you grow sleepier and sleepier in each other’s arms… it’s dead silent and only reads one message.
“Are you still watching?”
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n: I'm so bad at writing an actual plot/context so just let the smut speak for itself tbh...
friend with benefits. uncontrollably possessive. casual smoker. soft-hearted. baggy clothing connoisseur. awkward. giver. wrapped around your finger. in denial about his feelings. touch-starved. love-starved. scary love by the neighbourhood.
childhood best friend. shares headphones with you. makes you playlists. comforts you through breakups. plays the long game. slow-burn enthusiast. loves taking candid photos of you. loyal. committed. protective. infatuated. old recliners by role model.
