your blood was boiling right now. heat rising to the surface of your skin. you fucking hated matt sturniolo.
his stupid comments, and the way they got under your skin. you hated the way he walked, talked, fucking breathed. everything that man did irritated you. well, almost everything.
you didn't hate the way he was pounding into you right now. your hands flew to his hair, causing him to smirk at you. your eyes rolled back as matt reached down to rub your clit with his free hand. you opened your mouth to speak, a pathetic broken noise emerging from your throat.
"what's wrong baby? you were talking all that shit earlier?" his voice is smug making heat rise to your cheeks. the sound of your wet pussy fills the room, lewd noises only helping to make you more wet.
"shut up" you mutter out, voice barely audible over your wetness. matt chuckles dryly, gripping your face harshly. "use your words baby, speak up." he mocks you, his hot breath rubbing against your skin.
you were so close and so far gone. your body was completely limp under matt, with your legs over his shoulders. your hips buck, pushing your pelvis into his. you've never felt more stuffed.
your manicured nails claw at his biceps, broken noises escaping your throat. your climax approaches quickly, silky walls clenching around matt's length. you mutter something out, a mix of a whimper and "cumming."
"fuckin cum baby, let go" matt whispers, placing wet kisses down your neck. you cum so hard your vision goes white, your arching your back and sliding up the bed crawling to get away. his pace doesn't stop as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.
not too long after does matt finish inside you, pulling out right after. he spreads you apart, watching him drip out of you. he uses two fingers to pump everything back inside you, mumbling something under his breath.
a few minutes pass by and you and matt are tangled in the sheets. his hands lightly brushing through your hair as you feel his heartbeat. the silence is broken by matt's soft voice.
His room is dim, quiet. There’s a lamp on his nightstand casting warm light across the bed, and Chris is sitting cross-legged, knees bouncing a little, hands in his lap.
You’re curled up across from him, watching the way he keeps glancing at you, then away.
“Hey,” you say gently, nudging his leg with yours. “You okay?”
He nods quickly. “Yeah. I’m good. I just—” He pauses. His throat moves as he swallows. “I’ve never done this. Any of it. Like… at all.”
You smile, soft and warm. “I know. You told me.”
He rubs the back of his neck, face flushed. “You’re so calm. I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”
You laugh quietly and lean forward, cupping his jaw. “You’re not gonna pass out. You’re gonna do great. We’ll go slow. You’re not here to perform—you’re here to learn, right?”
He nods, still looking overwhelmed but hopeful. “I just… I really wanna be good for you.”
Your heart flips at the way he says it.
“You will be,” you promise, thumb stroking his cheek. “Wanna start with fingers?”
He nods again, more confident this time. “Yeah. I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”
You sit back and tug your shorts off, then ease onto your back, one leg bent, the other tucked under.
Chris stares, wide-eyed. “Holy shit.”
You grin. “Still okay?”
He nods, eyes fixed. “More than okay.”
You rest your head back on a pillow and slip your fingers down between your thighs. “Watch. I’ll show you.”
His mouth parts slightly as you start to touch yourself—gentle, slow circles over your clit. You keep your breathing steady, narrating softly.
“This is where you start. Light pressure. Not too fast. Circles are good, or up and down like this—” you demonstrate, your hips twitching at the feeling.
Chris swears under his breath, visibly swallowing. “You’re… you’re so hot.”
You smile, breath hitching. “Come closer. You try.”
He shifts nervously beside you, his hand hesitating before you guide it.
“Here,” you whisper, wrapping your hand around his and pressing two fingers against you. “Slow. Gentle.”
His touch is tentative, featherlight. You exhale hard.
“Like that?” he asks.
“Little more pressure,” you murmur, rocking into him. “Mmm—yeah. Right there.”
Chris breathes out shakily. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“You’re doing good.” You kiss the corner of his mouth. “You feel how wet I am?”
He groans softly. “I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”
You press his fingers in a little deeper, just on your clit now, and guide his movements. His hand is trembling, but he’s so focused, eyes flicking between your face and his hand.
“You’re really sensitive,” he mutters, in awe.
You laugh breathily. “I am. Keep going.”
He moves his fingers in slow, nervous circles, getting steadier every second. You’re panting now, hand gripping his wrist.
“That’s so good, baby,” you whisper, and he lets out a shaky sound.
“Can I… inside?” he asks quietly.
You nod. “Yeah. Just go slow.”
He watches your hand as you show him—two fingers slipping into yourself, curling gently. He watches your face as your mouth drops open.
“Like that?” he asks, already positioning his hand.
You gasp out a noise that shocks even you. “Fuck—Chris—”
He freezes. “Too much?”
You shake your head fast. “No—just—holy shit. Your fingers are longer than mine.”
He blinks, flushed. “Is that… good?”
You laugh breathlessly. “Yeah. That’s good. That’s really good.”
He swallows and starts to move, slow and cautious. He watches your face like it’s a roadmap.
You whimper when he curls them slightly—he hits a spot deep inside that makes your thighs jerk.
“There?” he asks, eyes wide.
You nod frantically. “Yes—right there—don’t stop—”
The sounds are obscene now—slick, wet, constant. It echoes softly in the room, mixed with your sharp breathing and his shaky ones.
His thumb brushes over your clit—lightly at first, but you buck into it.
“Oh my god,” he murmurs, stunned. “You’re dripping. I didn’t even know it could be like this.”
You’re flushed to your chest, gasping. “It’s ‘cause of you,” you whisper. “You’re doing everything right.”
Chris presses in again, fingers curling deep, and you swear loudly.
“You like that?” he asks, so shy and hopeful.
You moan, clutching the sheets. “Yes—yes—Chris, please—”
He obeys. He’s so careful, but so focused, curling with that perfect angle while rubbing tight circles with his thumb.
Your body can’t even handle it—you feel the heat coil impossibly tight, sharper than normal, wetter than normal.
“Chris—”
“What? Tell me—”
“I—fuck—I think I’m gonna—”
He groans. “Please. I wanna see it. I wanna feel it.”
That’s the last straw.
Your thighs clamp around his wrist, hips jerking wildly. Your vision goes white as everything inside you snaps, the orgasm crashing through you so hard it rips a choked scream from your throat.
But it doesn’t stop there.
There’s a sudden, humiliating gush—liquid squirting out around his fingers, soaking both of you, dripping onto the sheets.
Chris yelps, startled, but doesn’t pull away. He keeps his fingers moving a little, watching in total awe as you squirt all over his hand.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes.
You’re gasping, half sobbing, face burning hot.
“Oh my god,” you whimper. “I—shit—I don’t usually—”
He’s staring at his soaked fingers.
“You just… came everywhere,” he says reverently.
You cover your face with one hand. “Chris—shut up—”
He’s grinning like an idiot, flushed and amazed.
“I didn’t know girls could do that. That was—fuck. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You’re still twitching, thighs shaking. He finally eases his fingers out carefully, sticky and shining, and holds them up.
“Look at this,” he whispers, awestruck.
You peek through your fingers. Your face gets even redder.
He catches your eye, suddenly shy. “...Was that okay?”
You let out a choked laugh. “Okay? Chris, you made me squirt. That was more than okay.”
His chest heaves. “So… I did good?”
“You did fucking perfect.” You drag him down for a kiss, slow and languid, letting him feel how wrecked you still are. His lips are so eager, even clumsy, but you love it.
When you finally pull back, he’s panting, eyes dark.
Your gaze drifts lower—and you see the obvious, painful bulge straining his sweatpants.
You bite your lip, heat rushing through you all over again.
“Chris.”
He blinks. “Huh?”
You raise an eyebrow, pointedly glancing at his lap.
He looks down—then makes a strangled noise and covers himself with a hand. “Fuck—I—sorry—I can’t help it—”
You catch his wrist, pulling his hand away. “Don’t be sorry.”
He gulps. “It’s just—I mean—watching you—feeling you—fuck, it was too much—”
You hum, dragging your fingers over his waistband. “Looks like someone deserves a reward.”
He stares at you, speechless.
You smile sweetly. “Want me to help you out?”
He goes bright red, ears and all. “I—uh—yes. Please. If you want to. I’ve… never—no one’s ever…”
You feel your heart squeeze at how earnest he is.
“I know,” you say softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “That’s why I wanna do it. Let me take care of you.”
He nods frantically, eyes huge.
You push him back gently until he’s lying against the pillows. He’s stiff as a board, muscles locked up, breathing erratic.
You keep your voice low, soothing. “Hey. Breathe.”
He exhales shakily. “Okay.”
Your fingers hook into his waistband, tugging his sweats down. He lifts his hips to help you.
When you get them off, you pause, eyes dragging over him. He’s huge. And hard. Flushed dark red at the tip, already glistening with precum.
Chris makes a tiny, embarrassed noise and tries to cover himself.
You slap his hand away. “Don’t you dare.”
He groans. “Fuck—don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you ask innocently, wrapping your fingers around the base.
He chokes.
“Like you wanna eat me,” he manages.
You laugh, leaning in to kiss his chest as your hand gives an experimental stroke.
He bucks into your grip immediately, breath catching.
“Jesus Christ—”
You grin. “Sensitive?”
He nods desperately. “Fuck, yes.”
You tighten your grip a little, twisting at the top just enough to smear his precum around. He moans—half a whimper, head falling back.
“Oh my god—oh my god—”
You shiver at how needy he sounds.
You stroke him again, slow, deliberate, thumb brushing over the head.
He nearly sobs.
“Easy,” you murmur. “Don’t come yet.”
“I—I don’t—I can’t—I might—”
You kiss his stomach. “It’s okay. I want you to. Just let me make you feel good.”
He whines, biting his fist.
You pump him slowly at first, then faster, listening to every sound he makes. Wet noises fill the room—your hand slick with his precum now, gliding easily.
“Look at you,” you tease softly. “Fucking dripping for me.”
He makes the most wrecked noise yet.
Your thumb presses under the head just right, and his whole body locks up.
“Fuck—I’m—shit—I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” you whisper, breath hot against his stomach. “Come for me, Chris.”
He jerks in your hand once, twice—then explodes, thick and hot over your fingers, spilling onto his stomach and your hand in messy spurts.
He gasps, voice cracking, moaning your name as he rides it out, shaking apart.
You keep stroking him through it, slow and gentle until he’s whimpering and twitching, too sensitive.
Finally you let go, grinning smugly at the absolute wreck you’ve made of him.
He’s panting hard, face red, eyes half-lidded and dazed.
“Holy shit,” he whispers hoarsely. “I—I’ve never—fuck.”
You wipe your hand on the sheet, then lean in to kiss his jaw.
“First time for everything,” you murmur.
He turns and kisses you, clumsy but eager.
“I wanna do that for you again,” he says, still breathless.
You smirk. “Good. But first you’re gonna let me clean you up.”
He groans and drags you into his arms anyway.
“Deal,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck.
a/n: yuhhhh!! we need more inexperienced chris in this world hehe
Synopsis: Cute moments on stream with you and your boyfriend, Matt.
Warnings: Fluff, PDA, established relationship, Matt being bf as fuck.
A/N: Based on this request
With love and big tits, Rose
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
00: Streaming…
It was such an intimidating thing to you, thousands of people watching, analyzing your every move. What if you said the wrong thing? What if you just got too overwhelmed and wanted to leave?
Matt was the biggest sweetheart. It took months for you to get comfortable with the idea and he was okay with that, he was just so excited to make the step, build memories on camera with his fans…
01: Getting comfortable…
It was like highschool all over again, the one thing you fucking despised - icebreakers.
The camera was already going. Matt had reassured you that you could tap out at any moment with a simple tug to your ear. You were fine, it was all gonna be fine. But, you couldn’t help but rub your clammy hands together, shifting your weight on the flimsy plastic chair.
“C’mon,” Matt encourages.
The sweet tone of his voice soothes a bit of your nerves. He’s right here, there’s no reason to freak out. If anything, you were honestly excited. You felt warm. Being able to trust someone so much was just so… comforting.
You move into the camera view. Matt helps introduce you while fans spit out a couple questions. It’s really not that bad, you kinda like it, the excitement and new energy feeling refreshing.
“-and sometimes when I take her back home to Boston with me, she pays more attention to Trevour! My fuckin’ dog-”
Matt’s loud voice gets quieter as he sees you shift again in the chair. He knows it’s not the most comfortable, but you don’t know how to work all the controls and he’s not sure you would want to be front and center. Tugging on his ear and staring at you intently, he waits for your response. Did you not feel comfortable anymore? Did you need the stream to be over?
You see his hand press on a button, the chat flooding with comments how they can’t hear anything anymore. “What’s up, sweetheart? Do you wanna be done?” he asks, his hand rubbing on your knee gently.
“No, no,” you rush, staring down at his hand as you readjust yet again, “-just…this chair - hurts my ass.”
Matt snickers at your comment. “Do you wanna switch?” he offers.
“No, I feel like I’ll fuck up the set-up somehow,” you sigh.
He nods understandingly, his mind twisting with ideas as his eyes light up with a realization. “Wanna sit in my lap?”
You feel a blush crawl on your face. The chat was being nice, you couldn’t see an issue with the offer, so why not?
Matt smiles as he sees you slightly nod your head. He shifts himself, patting on his leg with a reassuring hand crawling around the back of your thigh and helping you get comfortable on his lap. “There we go,” he husks, rubbing the sides of your thighs before unmuting the mic.
At least you’re comfortable.
02: Cuddling…
You had streamed a couple times with Matt. Honestly, you loved it, it was fun, but neither of you were in the mood right now. Chris was. He was using Matt’s setup and playing Duo’s with Nick.
“Fuckin’ - Nick, move your ass!” Chris seethes, biting into his lip with concentration. A slight tap on his shoulder makes his attention budge, he looks up to see Matt staring down at him with lazy eyes.
“We’re gonna lay down, but can you wrap it up soon? Just gettin’ tired,” he explains, yawning as he feels your head rest on top of his shoulder from behind.
Chris nods, trying to whisper-yell as the two of you get comfortable. Usually, PDA isn’t your thing, but both of you are just too tired to care, cuddling up as you pull Matt’s into your arms, cradling his face into your breasts while slinging your leg over his waist and playing with his hair.
The chat is going insane, fawning over the cute display instead of giving Chris’s poor gaming skills any attention. Your eyes feel heavy, only drooping more and more each second. Matt’s snoring is quiet. The subtle notion of his hands clutching onto you in his sleep makes you wave in and out of consciousness until everything fades into a dream.
Chris finally wins. Happily, he looks over to the chat, only to see them freaking out over the scene behind him.
Scoffing, he looks over his shoulder with a jokingly disgusted facial expression, “It’s not that cute. I do that with Nick all the time guys.”
03: Love - Hate Relationship…
Matt hates sharing your attention sometimes. He loves seeing you be a part of his life, but something about tonight had just irked him immensely. You were laughing at the chat more than you were laughing at him and that put a sour pout on his face as he kept getting grumpier.
The ‘Mattitude’ was definitely showing. You couldn’t help but laugh and that was only making his frown deepen.
“You’re so mean,” he whispers, his forehead resting against the back of your shoulder as you sit in his lap - a regular occurrence that the fans absolutely adore being able to see.
Your body racks with laughter. Matt peeks over your shoulder to see you typing back in the chat, his jaw dropping with offense as he sees you figuring out the controls - unbanning the word ‘Mattitude.’
“Hey!” he exclaims, hugging your arms as he peels you away from the keyboard. “Alright, that’s it - streams over,” he announces, seemingly even more upset.
But, Matt’s smile betrays him. The slight curl of his lips is apparent as he reaches to hit ‘End Stream’ - your contagious giggles making it impossible for him to stay mad at all.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he says, cradling you in his lap like a baby, staring down at your face as he dips his head down to trace the tip of your nose with his.
“Are you mad?” you ask, brushing your hand over his jaw as you feel the light scruff of his beard.
Matt shakes his head, his lips starting to peck all over your face. It’s so warm - it’s so soft.
“Never,” he whispers, smiling against your cheek as he lazily kisses the corner of your mouth.
It’s absolutely adorable, a sight so full of love that it’s sickeningly sweet.
At least that’s what the stream thinks.
Thank god he accidentally missed the button. Now, you can relive the moment over and over and over again.
The windows are fogged up, your palms slipping as you try to hold yourself steady against the car door, knees dug into the backseat cushions.
The only sounds are Matt’s ragged breathing and the steady, filthy slap of skin on skin as he fucks you from behind–fast, unrelenting, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite catch.
His chest is pressed to your back, hoodie bunched up to his elbows, one arm wrapped tight around your waist to keep you still. The other hand is up your shirt, under your bra — rough fingers rolling your nipple between every thrust, tugging and palming like he can’t get enough of your body all at once.
“You feel that?” he pants, mouthing at your shoulder, sloppy and drunk and clumsy but desperate. “Feel how wet you are for me, fuck—been hard since we left that party—couldn’t stop starin’ at you.”
You whimper, body jolting forward with each thrust. He pulls you right back, keeping you stuffed on his cock so deep it aches, so deep your legs shake.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice hoarse and low.
“Backseat, half-naked, takin’ me like you were made for it. Gonna ruin this fuckin’ seat—soaked through already, baby.”
His hips rut harder, faster. He’s losing it now — you can feel it in how he huffs into your skin, sloppy kisses trailing along your shoulder blade, his grip getting tighter, rougher. His fingers tug at your nipple again and you cry out, chest arching into his hand.
“You love that, huh?” he groans, rocking deeper, fingers pinching and teasing at your tits while his cock hits that spot over and over again.
“F- fuckfuck—so soft, so warm, can’t even hold still for me...”
He pulls you closer and now? You're fully flush now, your back sticky to his chest, his hand flat against your belly, keeping you still while he ruts into you like a man possessed. The way he groans makes your stomach clench. His mouth is all over you: your neck, your jaw, your cheek, biting softly, kissing messily, drunk on your skin.
“S’tooo gooodd,” he mumbles, losing pace now, breath catching, hips faltering. “C- can’t- fuck...I’m gonna cum-”
You can feel it; the way he pushes deeper, then again, stuttering into one last grind of his hips, buried to the hilt as his body trembles against yours.
He cums hard, groaning into your hair, spilling inside with a low curse and one final thrust. You feel the heat of it deep inside, his cock twitching as he holds you there, locked together while he breathes through the comedown.
But he doesn’t move.
Still cupping your breast, his fingers lazily trace soft circles over the sore, sensitive skin. He noses at your jaw, breath warm and unsteady.
“…Don’t– ah! Haah...wanna pull out,” he murmurs, still dazed. “Feels too good.”
You can only whine in response. your body limp, used, stuffed full and still twitching around him.
“Stay just like this,” he whispers, thumb brushing under your shirt. “Lemme keep you close a little longer…”
𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆
...in which chris has been away for a month and finally gets his hands on you
cw: breeding kink, struggling not to cum, self-orgasm-denial?, riding
He’d barely gotten in the door before you were kissing him—hands in his hair, his duffel bag forgotten in the entryway, jackets and shoes half-on. You dragged him to the couch like your body knew exactly where it needed to be: on top of him. Close. Reconnected.
Chris looked wrecked. Not in a bad way—in a starved way.
His hands were gripping your waist too tightly. His mouth was everywhere. When you straddled him, hoodie pushed halfway up, your soft cotton panties pressing down against the bulge in his sweatpants, his breath hitched hard.
“Missed you,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “Missed you so fucking much.”
You kissed under his jaw. “Why didn’t you call more?”
He groaned, frustrated. “Couldn’t. I was losing my mind, baby. I couldn’t even jerk off. I—” He pulled back to look at you, eyes blown wide. “I didn’t come. All month.”
You froze. “Wait—you didn’t—”
“Not once,” he said, jaw tight. “Didn’t want to. Didn’t feel right. Every time I thought about it, all I could think about was you. The way you feel. The way you sound. Your fucking face when you fall apart under me.”
Your breath caught. The heat between you turned molten.
“So what you’re saying,” you said slowly, rocking your hips forward just a little, “is you’re ultra ultra horny??” you finish with a giggle, palming him.
His head hit the back of the couch. “Fucking obviously," he groans. "Please don’t test me right now.”
But you already were. Your fingers dipped below the waistband of his sweats, pulling him free—hard, flushed, already leaking at the tip. He swore under his breath, hips twitching when you brushed your fingers over him.
“I missed you too,” you whispered, guiding him to your entrance. “Wanna feel you again.”
When you sank down, the sound he made wasn’t human. You were tight from the lack of sex int he past month, and it burned.
Chris grabbed your hips, arms trembling. His jaw dropped, brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut like he was in pain.
You held still, heartbeat thundering, thighs already shaking from the stretch.
“You’re still so tight,” he moaned, pulling you close until your foreheads touched. “I forgot how warm you are. How soft. I’m so fucking close and I just got inside you.”
You kissed his temple, one hand cupping the back of his head.
“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I don’t care if you finish fast. You’ve waited long enough.”
But he shook his head, breathing hard. “No. I didn’t wait a month just to come in thirty seconds. I wanna take care of you. I wanna—fuck—I wanna make you fall apart.”
“You will,” you murmured, pressing another kiss to his lips. “You always do.”
And then you shifted your hips, just slightly.
Chris whined—high and desperate, like the sound ripped right out of his chest—and you felt him twitch inside you, every muscle in his body going rigid as he clung to control like it was slipping through his fingers.
“I’m not gonna last,” he whispered.
“I know,” you said, smiling softly. “It’s okay. You can come. Then you can make it up to me.”
“I need you to come first. You come first. Always.”
Your heart skipped. Because he meant it. His body was practically buzzing with how badly he needed release, cock twitching inside you, so hard it hurt—and still, he was holding back. Still focused on you.
“You’re insane,” you whispered, dazed.
“Maybe,” he murmured, rolling his hips once—slow, deep, controlled. “But I waited a month. I can wait a few more minutes.”
The drag of him inside you was brutal. You were still sensitive, still warm and wet around him, but it didn’t matter. His restraint was what really wrecked you.
The way every muscle in his body was tense, jaw clenched, knuckles white where they gripped your hips—all because he refused to let go before you did.
“Gonna go slow,” he whispered, kissing your collarbone. “Wanna feel you come all over me. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock.”
You whimpered. “Chris…”
“That’s it,” he breathed. “Give me those sounds. Let me hear you, baby. I’ve been dreaming about this—about you—every night I was gone.”
He shifted your hips and thrust again—deeper this time. Your head fell back, a moan spilling out.
Chris kissed your throat, your chest, your shoulder, whispering between every thrust.
“So warm. So perfect. You don’t even know what you do to me.”
“Feel so good. You’re squeezing me so tight, fuck—just like that.”
“Gonna keep going, baby. Just like this. Until you come. Until you’re shaking.”
And god, you were already close. The steady grind of his hips. The drag of him inside you. His words, his voice—soft and desperate, like he was falling apart just from loving you this much—it was all too much.
Your fingers gripped his shoulders, nails digging in. “Chris, I—”
“I got you,” he gasped, “I got you. Come for me. Please, baby—need to feel it. Need to come with you.”
Your orgasm hit like a crash of lightning—fast, bright, total. Your whole body arched, muscles clenching tight around him, and that was it.
Chris cried out—loud, helpless, beautiful—and slammed into you one last time, finally letting go.
You felt him twitch inside you, cock pulsing as he came hard, clutching you against his chest like you were the only real thing in the world.
He didn’t move. Just stayed there, buried deep, lips pressed to your neck, breathing like he’d run a marathon.
“…Worth the wait,” he whispered, voice hoarse.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, breath hot against your neck, arms wrapped around you like he could anchor himself back to earth.
Neither of you said anything. You were both too caught in it—in the weight of it, in the relief of finally having each other again.
Then, eventually, Chris pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were still hazy, lips parted, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead.
“You okay?” he whispered.
You nodded, smiling gently. “Yeah. Better than okay.”
He leaned in and kissed you—slow, messy, full of that post-orgasm softness that always felt a little sleepy and a little sacred. When he finally pulled out, you both winced, overstimulated and spent.
Chris sat back on his heels, hands still on your thighs, and froze.
His eyes dragged down to where his come was leaking out of you—thick, wet, everywhere.
And then he moaned.
“Holy fuck…”
You followed his gaze and flushed instantly, thighs instinctively trying to close—but his hands held you open.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Let me see.”
You bit your lip. “You made a mess.”
His eyes snapped back to yours. There was something different in them now—darker. Hungrier.
“…That’s not fair,” he said hoarsely. “You can’t say shit like that when I just came.”
You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear, and ruined him with a single line.
“I like when you come inside me.”
Chris’s whole body twitched. His hands squeezed your thighs. His cock, which had been resting soft and satisfied against his stomach, jerked back to life—half-hard, then rapidly more.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, already reaching for you again. “You’re gonna kill me.”
You smiled, smug and breathless, as he pulled you back into his lap.
“Then die doing what you love.”
And just like that—he was hard again. Desperate. Kissing you rougher now, like the softness had burned away and all that was left was need.
“Round two,” he muttered, teeth grazing your jaw. “No breaks this time. Wanna fuck my cum deeper into you, baby.”
i would do a part two but my smut starting to all sound the same lwk. i need to get even freakier
“thought you said you were waiting until you asked me to be your girlfriend hm?” jj pounds into you mercilessly as you moan louder. “couldn’t- fuck… FUCK baby- couldn’t hold back..” jj muttered and railed you even harder.
jj suddenly pulls out, before you could whine, jj connects his lips to your puffy clit and eats you out with abandon. as you reach your high, he plunges his two digits into your sopping pussy roughly, earning another orgasm out of you. “baby.. too much” you whimpered.
“not done yet mama.” he smirked as he suddenly rammed back into your cunt, fucking you rougher and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “you’re so tight and wet… fuck- tell me where you want my nut at baby.” he lifted your legs over his shoulders, making his cock hit magic spots you didn’t even know existed.
jj kept hitting those spots with each thrust until he brung you to the edge. “FUCK JJ!” you screamed and came on his cock, hard. he fucked you roughly through your orgasm, causing you to have another one and let out gushing liquid from your spasming pussy.
“fuck baby that’s all i need, shit that’s it right there.” his thrusts became more erratic as he neared his climax. “where you want it at sweet girl?”
“i-inside…” without another word, jj went harder and faster until his cock erupted, spurts of cum shooting from his twitching tip. “fuck baby, did you like that?”
Imagine best friend!JJ being in the middle of jacking off to photos of you when you call him. His cock is hard and pre-cum leaks from the tip as he scrolls through your instagram feed. Mainly clicking on the photos of you in bikinis.
A desperate whimper escapes him as he imagines it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.
JJ is quickly irritated when his phone first goes off and sets him off pace, but his demeanor changes once he sees that it’s your name lit up on the screen.
The right thing to do would be to let it go to voicemail. It would be disgusting, perverted, even, to pick it up… but he knows he’ll do it anyway. Since when did JJ ever do the right thing? He needs to hear your voice.
“Jayj?” you say when the line picks up and he instantly feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.
“H-hey!” He chokes out, his voice on the brink of inaudibility.
“Hey Jay.”
Fuck. Your voice is perfect, he thinks.
“Um, what’s up?” He stutters as he continues to glide his hand over his thick cock, tugging at it harsher now than before.
“The boys mentioned they hadn’t heard from you yet today, so I wanted to let you know we’ll be down at the boneyard later.”
“Yeah? A party?” he asks coolly as he attempts to keep his composure, a sheen veil of sweat beading on his forehead.
“Mhm, and I need someone to protect me from those douchey, frat boy, kooks,” you flirt innocently, “so I was hoping you’d wanna come?”
Yes, he wanted to cum.
He wanted to cum on your stomach, in your mouth, inside your pussy. Just hearing you say the word nearly sent him over the edge. For a split second he was unable to respond, too focused on his pleasure.
He was close. Too close. It didn’t take much for JJ to cum these days — especially not when the pent up lust he had for you had reached new heights. He just needed you to talk to him some more with that sweet, angelic voice of yours.
As if you read his mind, you let out a deep sigh into the phone.
“Well, JJ? Are you coming or not?” you huff and that is all he needs to be sent over the edge.
“Fuck,” your best friend groans out.
“Yes! I’m— I’m coming,” he chokes into the phone, practically moaning at you as he pumps his cock a few more times, squeezing at the tip before spilling himself into his palm.
“I—I’ll be there,” he reassures you through bated breaths.
“Sheesh, Jay,” you giggle at his enthusiasm, oblivious to the situation. God, you were so fucking innocent.
“I’m glad to know you’re excited, I am too! I’ll see you there! Bye!”
JJ lets out a deep breath as the line disconnects down on your end.
“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, “I’ll see you there.”
"yeah? let me give it a shot."
or... the one where you've never been able to squirt, and cocky!fratboy!chris takes pride in his ability to make it happen for you.
warnings: top!chris, bottom!reader, fingering, little bit of kissing, little bit of praise, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, squirtingword count: 1.1k
a/n: this is just a lil thought i had! i don't own fratboy chris yall this image just gave that aesthetic. divider credit to @junabuggy!
you whined, your back arching as the pads of chris' long fingers pressed directly against your sweet spot, the pressure making you feel like you were going to sob. you reached down, grabbing his wrist, your nails digging crescents into his skin as you moaned, cunt clenching tight around him.
chris smiled, not faltering at your reactions, continuing his movements as he drew you closer and closer to the edge.
"that's it, baby, give it to me."
you shook your head, tears beginning to stream down your face.
"i-i can't!"
chris tsked, shaking his head.
"yes you can, baby. stop thinking so much, hm?"
chris had dragged you through two climaxes already, making your whole body feel tense, hot, and sensitive, but you loved every minute of it.
you had been sexually frustrated for a little while now, and chris had been doing everything possible to keep you satisfied. it wasn't that he didn't make you feel good, it was just that you wanted more.
you were very open about your sex life with your friends, and so were they. one of your friends had brought up in conversation how good her boyfriend was in bed, and upon divulging into further details, she gushed about how he always made her feel so good that she squirted.
you were always engrossed in the conversations, bringing up your own stories, good or bad, but you couldn't deny how much jealousy ran through you when you thought about your friend being able to squirt while you never could get there.
it wasn't really that serious, but you just couldn't get it off of your mind. every orgasm felt unsatisfying when you thought about how much better it could have felt. but, you didn't say anything about it. instead, you tried everything by yourself, desperately wanting to feel that gush of relief, and nothing seemed to work. you spent so much time on the internet, searching for answers, but it was all in vain. you weren't getting anywhere.
you and chris weren't dating, not technically. you were really in a friends with benefits situation, but it was bordering on becoming more than that. he often spent time over at your place, as your best friends normally would, and he happened to walk in at a terrible time. you had left your phone out with your google searches open on the couch, and he grabbed it before you could shut it off.
"chris! stop! give me that!"
this only encouraged him more, giggling as his eyes fell on the lit up screen, scrolling as he read, eyes slowly widening. he looked up, a smirk on his face as he spoke in a slightly mocking tone.
"so this is what you get up to when i'm not around?"
"shut up."
he walked towards you, handing you your phone back.
"no, seriously, do you? cause that shit's hot."
you rolled your eyes, hitting the power button on the side to turn your phone off.
"no. i don't."
he raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not buying it.
"you sure? cause that looks like you do."
you sighed, exasperated.
"no, chris, i don't. i can't figure out how. i've never done it."
his face reeled in shock, clearly not expecting that being your answer.
"wait, really? you're serious?"
you glared at him.
"i don't feel like being made fun of, chris."
he rapidly shook his head, his expression defensive.
"no, no, i'm not making fun of you. i'm just surprised. you've really never squirted?"
you cringed at his bluntness, your face blooming red. hearing it said aloud just made it feel so much more real.
"no. i just can't get there."
"i can get you there."
chris blurted it out before he thought a second about it. your head snapped to him, a laugh escaping you before you could stop it.
"no offense, chris, you always make me feel amazing, but if i can't make it happen for myself, i doubt you can make me squirt."
his face drew up, taking a slight bit of offense.
"yeah? let me give it a shot."
and give it a shot he did. chris seemed to know every way to get your body more and more riled up, the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightening every time he fingered you through another orgasm. you'd begged, moaned, and cried through it, hypersensitive but willing to let chris take a try at getting you to that intense high of euphoria.
his two middle fingers are still prodding at your sweet spot, and tears were pricking your eyes, your legs shaking around his arm.
"relax, baby. you're worrying too much. just feel."
you cried out as his thumb connected with your clit, the added pleasure hurtling you towards an orgasm faster than you could ever imagine. it felt different this time, and that gave you hope, so you tried not to think about the possibility of it, not wanting to psyche yourself out.
"doin' so good for me, baby. i've got you, just focus on how it feels."
it felt overwhelming.
chris was gently coaching you through it, his fingers working you as close to a climax as he possibly could, whispering praise the whole time.
"chris-!"
you sobbed out as you felt yourself about to fall off the edge of the cliff, chris placing gentle pressure over top of your lower stomach. you nearly screamed, your pussy fluttering around him as your eyes rolled back into your head.
"go on, baby, cum for me. bear down, honey, try to push me out."
you mindlessly followed his instructions, pleasure-drunk, as your vision went white. your climax burned through your entire body, waves of it skyrocketing through every part of you as you clenched down around chris, hard.
he groaned as your orgasm hit you, liquid squirting out of you and drenching his entire hand. he could have cum in his pants just from the sight. he continued to finger-fuck you through it, stopping when he could tell your pleasure was tinging on overstimulated pain.
you were gasping, eyes closed, head titled back, and he calmly stroked your inner thighs as he waited for you to come back to him.
"did so good for me, baby, so proud of you."
sweet nothings fell from his lips as you slowly roused, head lifting up and looking down at his hands, your jaw falling open.
"d-did i just-?"
he nodded, a cocky smirk on his face.
"you did. hottest thing i've ever fuckin' seen."
he moved up your body, kissing you deeply before giving you another minute to catch your breath.
"told you i could do it."
you could've smacked him if you had the energy.
"shut the fuck up."
he shook his head, laughing.
"never. you're gonna do that every time we have sex."
content warnings: smut (+18), pet names, squirting for the first time, grinding maybe, english is not my first language.
𝙬 𝙝 𝙚 𝙧 𝙚 . . .
𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.
You’re bent over the table again, the familiar coolness of the wood pressing into your stomach and breasts, grounding you as your body hums with heat and exhaustion from what’s already happened. Your arms tremble as your hands clutch the edges, fingers digging into the grain, your knuckles whitening with the effort to hold yourself steady. Your ass is high in the air, soft and round, quivering slightly from the tension in your muscles. Chris stands behind you, his presence a solid, commanding weight. His hands find your hips, fingers pressing into your flesh with a grip that’s both possessive and steadying, anchoring you in place. The air around you is thick, heavy with the musky scent of sweat and sex, your breaths mingling in sharp, uneven gasps. His cock, hard and insistent, brushes against the curve of your ass, teasing for just a moment before he shifts, guiding it downward to nudge at your slick, swollen entrance.
He doesn’t rush. “You good, baby?” he asks, his voice a low growl, rough around the edges from exertion and arousal. His breath fans hot against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth radiating from your skin.
You nod, though your voice betrays you, coming out shaky and desperate. “Yeah—God, Chris, just—please.” You can barely form the words, your mind already fraying at the edges, overwhelmed by the lingering echoes of pleasure from before.
He chuckles, dark and rich, the sound vibrating through you as he presses the tip of his cock against you. Then, with a slow, deliberate push, he slides into you. It’s deep, unhurried, every inch stretching you open as your walls clench around him, adjusting to his size. The sensation is overwhelming—full, almost too much, your body still hypersensitive from the last round. He sinks in all the way, his hips flush against your ass, and pauses there, letting you feel him, letting the weight of him settle inside you. His hands roam up your back, tracing the dip of your spine with a touch that’s both tender and possessive, before sliding back to grip your hips again.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice thick with reverence. “You’re so damn perfect—tight, wet, gripping me like you were made for this.” His words sink into you, stoking the fire already burning low in your belly.
You moan, the sound spilling out unbidden, raw and needy. Your hips twitch back against him instinctively, urging him on. “Chris—move, please, I—I need it.”
He doesn’t give in to your plea for speed. Instead, he starts to move with that same maddening slowness, pulling out until just the tip remains, then thrusting back in, deep and controlled. Each stroke is precise, his cock dragging along your inner walls, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you. Your ass jiggles with every thrust, the soft flesh bouncing in rhythm with his movements, and you can feel his gaze on it, heavy and hungry. His hands slide to your cheeks, kneading them, spreading them apart as he watches himself disappear into you.
“Shit, look at that,” he says, voice dripping with lust. “Your ass—so fucking gorgeous, bouncing like that while I fuck you slow. Could watch this all day.”
The pace is torturous, each thrust building a slow, simmering pressure inside you. Your toes curl against the floor, your breath hitching as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter. It’s not the frantic, crashing release you’re used to—this is something else, something deeper, more consuming. Your body starts to tremble, a fine tremor running through your thighs and up your spine. You don’t understand it, this strange, overwhelming sensation bubbling up inside you, different from anything you’ve felt before.
“Chris—” you gasp, your voice shaking, barely coherent. “Fuck, it—it feels different. Too much, I—I don’t know what it is—”
He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his skin searing into yours. His lips brush your ear, his voice low and soothing despite the roughness of his breathing. “Shh, baby, just let it come. Whatever it is, I’ve got you. Trust me.”
You whimper, nodding weakly, trying to surrender to the feeling even as it scares you. His thrusts don’t waver—slow, deep, relentless—each one pushing that pressure higher, stretching it taut like a wire about to snap. Your moans turn sharper, more desperate, your body arching, ass lifting higher as you instinctively chase the sensation. His cock hits that spot inside you, again and again, with a precision that makes your vision blur.
“Oh God—Chris, it’s—it’s too intense, I—I think I’m—” Your words dissolve into a cry, your mind too scrambled to finish the thought. You don’t know what’s happening, only that it’s building, unstoppable, a tidal wave rising inside you.
He growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on your hips. “Yeah, baby, that’s it. Let it out—give it to me. Wanna feel you lose it.”
And then it happens. The pressure breaks, shattering through you with a force that steals your breath. A gush of warmth floods from you, sudden and powerful, soaking your thighs, his cock, the table beneath you. You squirt, hard and unrestrained, the liquid spilling out in a rush as your body convulses, a scream ripping from your throat. The orgasm is blinding, raw, tearing through you in waves that leave you trembling and gasping, your mind wiped blank by the intensity.
Chris stills, buried deep inside you, his breath catching audibly. “Holy—fuck, did you just—?” His voice is thick with shock, his hands frozen on your hips as he processes what just happened.
You’re shaking, panting, your body still clenching around him as aftershocks ripple through you. “I—I didn’t know—I didn’t know I could—” Your voice is small, dazed, your thoughts a jumbled mess.
He pulls out slowly, almost reverently, and you feel another trickle of liquid escape you, dripping down your legs. He stares, eyes wide, his cock still hard and glistening with your release. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes, a mix of awe and disbelief in his tone. “That was—you’re fucking unreal.”
You collapse forward onto the table, your chest heaving, your legs too weak to hold you up. He steps closer, his hands gentle now as they stroke your back, your thighs. “You okay?” he asks, softer this time, concern threading through the lingering heat in his voice.
“Yeah,” you manage, though your voice is barely a whisper. “I just—fuck, I’ve never felt anything like that.”
He laughs, low and rough, still sounding a little stunned. “Me neither. Didn’t even know you had that in you. Shit, I didn’t know I could get you there like that.”
You turn your head to look at him, catching the mix of pride and amazement in his eyes. “You—you didn’t expect that either?”
“Hell no,” he says, shaking his head. “Thought you were just gonna come like usual. Didn’t know you were gonna fucking explode like that. That was—fuck, that was insane.”
Your lips twitch into a weak smirk, your body still buzzing. “Guess we’re both surprised.”
He grins, but there’s a glint in his eyes, a spark of something hungry and determined. “Oh, we’re not done figuring this out,” he says, his voice dropping lower. He steps between your legs again, nudging them apart with his knee. “Gonna see if I can make you do it again. Wanna feel that all over me one more time.”
WARNINGS : smut, dirty talk, remote controlled vib (so public) fucking yourself in front of him, sex toys, fingering, slight overstim, brat tamer! but with praise, usage of “toy”
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+
The vibe in the restaurant was low-lit, romantic, filled with soft murmurs and clinking silverware—but you could barely breathe.
Not because of the atmosphere. Not because of the wine.
But because of the small, merciless sleek vibrator pulsing inside you—deep and insistent—controlled by the man sitting right across from you.
Chris.
Smirking. Lazy in his seat, phone in hand like he was scrolling through some feed, but you knew better. His thumb hovered over the controls, and every now and then, he’d tap something, and you’d jolt—legs twitching under the table as another wave of vibration tore through your already dripping pussy.
“Stop squirming, baby,” he murmured, voice low, smooth, and soaked in that Boston accent that made your thighs squeeze together even tighter. “People are gonna notice, hmm?.”
You wanted to throttle him. Or kiss him. Maybe both.
Your fork trembled in your hand as you tried to stay composed, eyes darting to the couples beside you—still talking, thank God—before whispering through clenched teeth, “You’re such a fucking menace.”
He chuckled, tapping the screen again. A higher setting.
You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood.
“I warned you not to wear a dress if you didn’t want to be my little toy tonight,” he said, casually taking a sip of his drink. “But you looked so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t help myself.”
Chris tugged you through the front door of the apartment by your wrist, your chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm. Your thighs were slick, trembling with frustration. The moment the door clicked shut, you turned toward him, eyes wild.
“Are you gonna fuck me now, or are you gonna keep being a dick about it?”
Chris just laughed. That deep, infuriating, knowing laugh.
He cupped your cheek gently, rubbing his thumb over your lip, his eyes full of something wicked and soft all at once. “You think you’ve earned that already?” he asked. “After how you were eye-fucking me all night, moaning into your wineglass like a desperate little whore?”
You opened your mouth, ready to fire something back—but he kissed you first. Slow, warm, indulgent. Like he had all night.
And then he pulled away, licking his lips softly.
“Go sit on the toy for me, baby.”
You blinked. “Chris—”
He shook his head, already backing toward the couch, phone in hand again. “Nah, no arguing. Go fuck yourself on it, like a good girl. I wanna watch that pussy stretch before I give you anything.”
You swallowed hard, stomach twisting with arousal. “You’re so fuckin’ dirty, Chris.”
“And you love it,” he grinned, sitting down and patting his thigh, like he was settling in for a show. “C’mon, sweetheart. Show me how desperate you really are.”
You could barely peel the dress off fast enough. The toy—a dildo fixed to the edge of the soft couch—waited for you where he left it earlier, like it had been part of the plan the whole time. You stepped out of your panties, flushed all over, knees trembling as you straddled it slowly.
Chris’s eyes raked down your body, shameless and hungry. “Mmm, there’s my girl. Fuck, look at you…”
You lowered yourself inch by inch, moaning at the familiar stretch. It was good—too good. Not as thick as Chris, but enough to press against your walls, make your mouth fall open and your head roll back.
“You like that?” he asked, voice dropping as he got up, walking over. His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, slow and warm and possessive. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this. Bouncin’ on that toy, tits all out, lips all swollen.”
You whimpered, grinding down harder, letting your chest bounce with each roll of your hips.
Chris knelt behind you on the couch and pressed a kiss between your soft tits.
“Nah, don’t just fuck it. Ride it, baby. Like it’s me. Ride it like you mean it.”
You did. You pushed your hips down, rocked against it harder, dragging sweet friction against your clit as Chris’s hands found your waist, guiding you, encouraging you.
“Yeah,” he breathed against your ear. “Just like that. God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect. You know that? Look at this ass.”
He gripped both cheeks in his hands, spreading them slightly as you gasped. Then came a firm smack—sharp, echoing—and another, followed by his mouth pressing a gentle kiss right where he’d hit.
“You’re fuckin’ made for this,” he whispered. “Takin’ cock like you were born to do it. And these tits—fuckin' hell ma.”
He slid his hands around your chest now, cupping you fully, thumbs brushing your nipples in slow circles, rolling them between his fingers until you moaned his name. “You like that, baby? You like ridin’ and gettin’ felt up, hmm my pretty girl?”
“Y-Yes, Chris,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster now. “Please, please—”
“Please what?” he asked, mouthing along your neck now. You felt the soft sting of a hickey blooming right under your jaw. “Use your words, sweet thing.”
“I need more,” you begged. “I need you.”
He growled low, pulling you up just enough to lift you off the toy with a wet squelch. You whimpered, empty now, clenching around nothing.
“Lay back,” he ordered, already lowering you to the rug in front of the couch. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”
You obeyed instantly, desperate and aching, heart hammering in your chest as Chris laid between your thighs. His hands rubbed over them slowly, lovingly, thumbs stroking soft circles into the sensitive skin.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh. “So soft. So mine.”
He kissed lower, then higher, teasing everywhere but where you needed him most. His fingers finally brushed over your slick folds, spreading you open, and you gasped—body twitching at the first real touch.
“Drippin’ for me,” he whispered. “Fuck, baby. You were so good for me tonight, lettin’ me play with you in public like that. You deserve this.”
Then he pushed two fingers inside—slow, thick, curling just right as your back arched and your lips parted in a silent cry.
He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him. “Goddamn. So tight. Still so fucking tight, even after that toy.”
Chris leaned down and pressed another hickey into the curve of your breast now, his free hand massaging and squeezing your tit, fingers tweaking your nipple while the other hand worked inside you, fingers curling deep and dragging along your g-spot.
You whimpered. “Chris, I—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he whispered, kissing your chest with reverence, with fire. “You’re so close, I can feel it. C’mon, baby. Cum for me.”
He sped up his fingers, his thumb circling your clit in tight, perfect motions now, his mouth hot and open against your throat.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he growled. “All messy and desperate. My perfect fuckin’ girl. You feel that, baby? That pressure building?”
“Let it go. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart.”
The orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave, your entire body trembling, thighs clamping around his head as your moans echoed off the walls. Your hands gripped the rug, nails clawing for something to anchor you as your back arched high and your pussy clenched desperately around his rough fingers.
Chris didn’t stop right away—he rubbed you through it, murmuring praise against your skin, kissing the tears that leaked from the corners of your eyes.
“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. You’re fuckin’ perfect. God, you’re so good for me…”
When the tremors finally slowed, he slid his fingers out carefully, watching as your cum dripped down your folds, sticky and glistening.
He licked them clean, groaning at the taste. “Better than anything I’ve ever had.”
You blinked up at him, dazed and breathless. “Chris…”
He laid beside you, tugging you into his arms, one hand still rubbing your thigh like he couldn’t get enough of touching you.
“I’ll fuck you next time,” he promised, grinning as he kissed your temple. “But tonight? I just wanted to watch my baby fall apart for me. And damn, you didn’t disappoint.”
You smiled through the afterglow, curling into his chest as he nuzzled into your hair, both of you still soaked in heat and satisfaction.
And you knew, deep down, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d let him ruin you like that.
WARNINGS: SMUT. LIGHT DEGRADATION. PRAISE KINK. BEGGING. POWER PLAY. FINGERING. ORAL (F). FACE SITTING. OVERSTIMULATION. CREAMPIE. MDNI.
you knew better than to expect chris to make things easy.
he never did. not when it came to this—when it came to you. especially not when he had you spread out like this, back against the cool sheets of his bed, knees parted, and that lazy smirk crawling across his face as he knelt between your thighs. eyes dark with intent, head tilted just enough to be condescending, like he already knew what you were going to ask for before the words even dared to leave your mouth.
"what's that face for?" he murmured, thumbing over the waistband of your panties. "y'wan' somethin'?"
you were already flushed, breath catching with the tension of it all—his stare, his fingers, the way he'd been trailing his mouth along your inner thigh for minutes, teasing. he hadn't touched you where you needed it. not once. not even close.
"y'know what i want," you breathed.
chris smiled, slow and cruel and hot. "nah. i don't think i do."
he ducked his head again, kissed a spot too high on your thigh, just near the crease of your hip, letting his teeth scrape gently. his hands were firm on your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft parts, keeping you open, keeping you exposed.
you whined—soft, needy—and chris chuckled, nose brushing along the edge of your underwear.
"what was that?" he asked, voice dripping smug. "that a sound or a word, pretty girl? 'cause if y'wan' me to do somethin'..." his eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and amused. "you're gonna have t'say please."
you swallowed, head falling back against the pillows. he'd said that before, half-joking, usually after you teased him first. but this time—this time he meant it. really meant it. he wasn't going to give in. not unless you begged.
and you knew he could wait. he could wait forever.
"chris," you breathed, hips shifting slightly, trying to press closer to him, but he didn't let you. his hands kept you still.
"that's not please," he said, sing-song. "i could do this all night, y'know. jus' sit here. maybe watch you squirm a lil' more."
he leaned down, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy over the fabric, warm breath making you twitch. but that was it. nothing more. no pressure. no tongue. just the idea of him.
"fuck, you're mean," you muttered, voice tight.
"mhm." he grinned, kissing you again, lower this time. "but y'like it. 'cause if y'really didn't, you'd tell me to stop.”
you didn't. you couldn't. because your head was spinning with how badly you needed him, how wet you already were just from the way he was looking at you—how he could ruin you without even trying.
his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties, tugging them gently, dragging them down achingly slow. he didn't even look away while he did it, gaze locked on your face, watching every reaction. every twitch, every inhale, every flicker of anticipation.
he dropped them onto the floor and groaned, real quiet. "fuck. look at that."
his thumb traced along your inner lips, feather-light, just enough to make your thighs tense. he didn't push in, didn't go where you wanted him. he was everywhere but there.
"chris, please—"
he paused.
but only for a second.
"mm, nope. not good enough."
his tone was almost playful. like he was testing you. like he wanted to see how far you'd go.
"y'gotta mean it, baby," he said softly, dragging his fingers up and spreading you a little wider. "say it like y'really fuckin' need me."
you wanted to curse at him. you wanted to slap that smug look off his face. but more than that, you wanted his mouth. his fingers. anything he'd give you.
so you gave in, just a little.
"please," you whispered, arching your hips. "please touch me, chris."
his eyes flicked down, then up again, expression shifting—darker now. hungrier.
"that's more like it."
and then, finally, finally, he leaned in.
his tongue slid between your folds, slow and heavy, licking all the way up before circling your clit with the barest touch. your back arched, a sharp breath tearing from your throat, and chris moaned softly, like he was the one getting touched.
"shit—baby, fuuckk," he breathed against you, mouth already wet and slick with you. "y'taste so fuckin' good."
he licked again, deeper this time, tongue slipping down to your entrance, teasing it, dipping in and then pulling back just to suck your clit into his mouth hard and fast, tongue flicking until your legs trembled around his head.
"keep 'em open," he warned, one hand wrapping around your thigh to hold it in place when you started to close around him. "told you, ya' not gettin' anything unless you beg for it."
"chris," you gasped, hips jerking up. "please, don't stop—please, i need more."
he groaned against your pussy, tongue fucking into you again, slower this time, but deep. the hand on your thigh moved, his middle finger circling your entrance, slick already from his mouth.
"y'that desperate for it?" he muttered, fingers teasing the edge but not pressing in yet. "need me to stretch you out, huh?"
you nodded, breathless, grabbing the sheets beside you.
"use your words."
"yes. yes, please. chris, fuck, i need your fingers—please."
he smiled against your cunt and finally gave you what you wanted.
one finger slid in first, slow and purposeful, curling up until it hit just the right spot. you cried out, clenching around him, and he moaned again, watching the way you reacted like it was his favorite show.
"tight as fuck," he muttered, pushing in a second finger. "goddamn."
you couldn't even think straight. his fingers moved expertly, scissoring just enough to make you twitch, knuckles brushing your walls with each drag. and his mouth—fuck, his mouth never stopped. tongue on your clit, sucking, licking, pressing down until your stomach clenched.
"y'close already?" he teased. "jus' from my fingers?"
you nodded again, whining, hips grinding down onto his hand.
"mm-mm," he said, pulling his mouth back slightly. "y'wanna cum, y'gotta beg again."
you almost sobbed. your body was already right there—your thighs shaking, your hands clawing at the sheets—but he was cruel. relentless.
"please," you whispered, almost crying. "please let me cum. chris, please, i'll do anything."
his eyes rolled back, breath catching.
"shit. that's what i like to hear."
he leaned in and sucked your clit hard, fingers speeding up, and that was it.
you came like a wave crashing over everything, loud and hot and pulsing around his fingers. he didn't stop. not even as you shook, not even when you whimpered his name like a prayer, overstimulated and shaking. he just kept going, licking you through it like he couldn't get enough, like he was starving for it.
"good girl," he murmured, finally pulling his mouth away. "so fuckin' pretty when y'fall apart."
you were still gasping, still twitching slightly, and before you could recover, he sat up and grabbed your hips.
"c'mere."
you blinked, dazed, barely registering as he tugged you up until you were straddling his face.
"chris—"
"sit," he growled, hands gripping your ass, forcing you to lower onto him. "m'not done with you yet."
your knees shook, thighs already sore, but you obeyed, slowly sinking down until your cunt was against his mouth again.
he groaned like it was heaven.
he started eating you out like he hadn't just made you cum thirty seconds ago. messy. loud. tongue fucking into you while his nose bumped your clit with every movement.
you tried to lift yourself, overwhelmed, but his grip on your thighs was firm.
"uh-uh," he said, mouth full. "stay. sit on my face like the good fuckin' girl you are."
you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair as he dragged another orgasm out of you, rough and fast. you couldn't even process the pleasure—just shaking, crying out, grinding down against his tongue because you couldn't stop yourself.
when he finally pulled back, lips slick, chin wet, he looked ruined. in the best way.
"mhm. look at you," he panted, staring up at you like he was addicted. "drippin' all over me. fuck."
you barely had the strength to move, but chris wasn't done yet.
he flipped you back onto the bed and kissed you hard—hot, possessive, tongue sliding into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.
"need t'fuck you," he said into your mouth, hands already unzipping his jeans. "gonna stretch you out so good, baby."
"please," you whimpered, already aching. "need it. need you."
he growled, guiding himself to your entrance and pushing in slow.
"fuck—so wet. all from beggin' f'me, huh?"
you gasped, arching into him, legs wrapping around his waist.
he started fucking you hard—deep, sharp thrusts that made your eyes roll back. his hand slid under your thigh, lifting it higher to get deeper, and you cried out, clutching at his arms.
"chris—fuck—so good—"
"yeah?" he gritted, fucking you harder. "say it again."
"so good," you sobbed. "feels so good, chris—please, don't stop."
he didn't. he just pounded into you, pushing you right to the edge again, murmuring filth into your ear.
"look at you. all dumb for my dick. think ya' earned it now, beggin' so pretty f'me?"
you nodded, body breaking open under him.
"cum f'me," he said, voice ragged. "wan' feel you squeeze me again."
you shattered around him, loud and raw and messy. and chris followed with a deep groan, burying himself inside you as he came, holding you close like he never wanted to let go.
and when it was done—when you were both breathless and wrecked—he kissed your shoulder, smug smile creeping back onto his lips.
"see?" he whispered, brushing his nose against your neck. "all y'had to do was say please."
author's note. love love love this.
taglist. @sugarraez @eyesonmattyb ꒱ ₊˚⊹ .ᐟ
to be added to my taglist, please refer to this post.
HEYY GUYS i wrote "part 2" except i put both parts together so it was a full fic, enjoy the extended version!!
Matt wasn’t snooping. He was looking for a pen. At least, that’s what he told himself when he opened your dresser drawer.
He hadn’t expected to find that.
For a second, he just stared at it—smooth, matte, tucked beside a folded hoodie and a phone charger. His face went hot immediately, but his eyes didn’t leave it. He shut the drawer. Then opened it again.
It wasn’t even hidden that well.
He glanced toward the door, knowing you were home, but busy in a meeting. The silence in your apartment felt heavier now, like it was daring him to take it.
Matt bit his lip, sitting on the edge of your bed. Curiosity buzzed through his fingertips. “You’re insane,” he muttered to himself, laughing under his breath as he reached into the drawer and picked it up.
It was... heavier than he expected. He turned it over in his hand, feeling ridiculous and intrigued all at once. The silicone was soft, the color a pastel pink that made it look deceptively innocent.
His thumb hovered over the power button.
Then he pressed it.
A soft hum filled the air.
He jumped slightly. Then laughed at himself. “Jesus,” he whispered.
The vibration was steady, gentle—but strong. His curiosity bloomed into something else, something warmer.
His breath caught as he let it rest against the side of his neck for a moment, shivering from how oddly sensitive he was there. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that, was it? Or maybe it was—he wouldn’t know. He’d never actually used one of these before. And definitely not someone else’s.
That thought made his stomach twist. He should stop. He really should. But the soft hum in his hand and the low, building heat in his body made it hard to think straight.
Matt lay back on your bed slowly, the vibrator still buzzing softly in his palm. The scent of you was all over your blanket, your pillow—he swore he could feel your presence lingering in the fabric. It made his heart thump in a way he wasn’t ready to unpack.
With a shaky breath, he ran it lightly down the center of his chest, through his shirt. His abs clenched at the sensation. He dragged it lower, over the waistband of his sweatpants, just hovering. Testing. His thighs tensed as he shifted, trying to ignore the flush crawling up his neck.
And then he gave in.
Matt eased the vibrator beneath the band of his sweats, not even touching himself directly yet—just letting the buzz tease him through the fabric of his boxers. His hips twitched slightly, and a low, involuntary sound slipped from his throat. “F–fuck,” he whispered, shocked at the intensity.
It felt way too good for something so simple. His head fell back against your pillow. He let it sit there, just resting, his breathing going shallow as the sensation started to build, heavy and tight in his gut. His hand flexed. His legs tensed. His mind emptied.
His fingers slid beneath his boxers, and this time, there was nothing between him and the heat.
The second the vibrator pressed directly against him, Matt jerked, a sound punching out of his chest—somewhere between a gasp and a moan, breathless and surprised. His eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping the sheets while the other kept the toy steady against himself.
It was too much. In the best, most shamefully addictive way.
His hips bucked slightly, instinctive, like his body was trying to chase the feeling before his mind could catch up. He was already embarrassingly hard, the vibration pulsing through him, deep and steady and so much better than his hand ever could be.
He bit his lip, trying to muffle the sounds threatening to escape. But every time he shifted, every tiny movement, the pressure changed just enough to send a new wave of heat rushing down his spine.
You weren’t supposed to know. God, if you walked in—
That made it worse. Made it hotter. His muscles tensed, thighs tightening. He let out uncontrollable whimpers, eyes widened in surprise at how absurdly quick it was pushing him to the edge.
The tension coiled low in his stomach, fast and sharp and absolutely unstoppable. His head tipped back against the pillow, mouth falling open as his body began to twitch. His hand moved faster, pressing the vibrator more firmly now, chasing the edge.
“I—I’m gonna—”
His voice broke. His body arched, back fully of the bed.
And then—
He came. Hard. Too hard.
His hips stuttered, a whiny noise escaping him as everything unraveled. His mind blanked, vision flashing white behind his eyelids. Heat surged through his veins like wildfire. He gasped through it, every nerve lit up.
The toy buzzed in his hand. He couldn’t move yet.
Just... lay there. Boneless. Chest heaving.
Matt lay there for a long moment, chest rising and falling, sweat cooling on his skin. The vibrator had slipped from his hand, buzzing weakly against the blanket. His brain felt like soup—warm, stunned, and guilty.
But not guilty enough.
Because the thought of you walking in, seeing him like this…
The idea didn’t stop the heat from stirring again. If anything, it sparked it right back to life. He felt himself immediately reharden.
He glanced at the toy.
His fingers twitched.
“Fuck it,” he muttered.
This time, he didn’t bother keeping his boxers on. His hand was surer, less hesitant. The vibrator buzzed back to life like it knew what he was about to do again. He bit back a smirk, eyes fluttering shut as he settled it against himself again—raw, sensitive, and already halfway there just from the thrill.
It was different now. No hesitation. Just need.
He hissed at the contact, hips twitching up. He trailed it up the base of his cock then to the tip, swiping the precrum to lubricate it, then fondling his balls at the same time.
His body shivered from the overstimulation, but he kept going, gasping, grinding against the toy with shameless abandon.
And then—
The door clicked.
“Hey, I forgot my—”
Your voice stopped. So did Matt.
His head snapped toward you, eyes wide, pupils blown. The vibrator was still on, still pressed to him. His hand fumbled, panic overtaking lust, but it was too late. You were standing there. Frozen. Your keys still dangling from your fingers.
He looked pathetic —shirt half-pushed up, boxers down, legs splayed, chest heaving, face red. And dick fully hard, upright, and shiny.
“…hi,” he said weakly, voice cracking.
You blinked. Stared. Said absolutely nothing.
The vibrator buzzed loudly in the silence.
“Are you using my vibrator?”
The audacity.
Your jaw dropped slightly, a laugh nearly escaping, but you bit it back. Partly because you were stunned. And partly because… okay, fine, the image in front of you was absurdly hot.
He scrambled to turn the vibrator off, tossing it aside like it had personally betrayed him. “I—I wasn’t—okay, I was—but I didn’t mean to—”
You raised a hand. “Matt.”
He froze.
You took a slow, dangerous step forward, setting your keys on the desk without breaking eye contact. “Did you go through my drawer?”
“…Yes.”
“Did you use my vibrator?”
“…Yes.”
You stared at him for a long beat, letting the weight of the moment settle like heat between your bodies. His face was burning. His chest was still rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon.
Your eyes dropped—slowly—to where the evidence of the first round was all over his thighs.
Then back to his eyes.
“You couldn’t wait for me?” you said, voice low, teasing, dangerous.
He swallowed. “I didn’t know if I was allowed.”
You gave a dry little laugh and leaned against the doorframe. “And now?”
His lips parted like he had something to say—an apology, an excuse, maybe a plea—but all that came out was a helpless little sound as you crossed the room in three steps.
You reached for the vibrator.
Picked it up.
Turned it on.
And then, in the calmest, most casual voice imaginable, said:
“Lie back.”
Matt obeyed so fast it was embarrassing. But who could blame him?
He laid back, eyes wide, anticipation written in every line of his body. His legs shifted against the sheets, tension already curling in his gut again.
You climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs, the vibrator buzzing steadily in your hand. You didn’t touch him. Not yet. Just let it hover over his already hardening cock, watching the way his hips lifted slightly—desperate, needy.
“Greedy boy,” you murmured.
He groaned, head pressing into the pillow, fists clenched in the sheets. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.”
The vibrator kissed his skin, and he shuddered. His reaction was instant—back arching, breath catching, his cock twitching under the teasing pulse of it.
“Already sensitive?” you teased, dragging it slowly up the underside, just enough pressure to make him pant.
“You have no idea,” he choked out.
You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “Good.”
And then you pressed it harder.
His whole body jolted. The moan he let out was filthy—loud, broken, like you’d stolen the air from his lungs. His hips bucked, chasing the friction, but you held him down with one hand on his stomach, making him take it.
“Look at you,” you said, gaze flicking down. “So worked up. And it’s not even me touching you yet.”
“Y–you are,” he panted.
“No,” you said, letting the toy flicker over the head of his cock. “This is.”
He whimpered, legs trembling. You could see the edge building in him again, fast, reckless—he was already so close. You could tell by the way his mouth fell open, the way he reached for your wrist, unsure if he wanted to stop you or beg you to keep going.
“I c–can’t—fuck, I’m gonna—”
You didn’t stop.
He came with a shout, back arched off the bed, thighs shaking under you. It was raw, overwhelming, even louder than before—and this time, he didn’t even try to be quiet. He just let go, whimpering your name like a prayer as the orgasm ripped through him.
You finally turned the vibrator off.
Silence.
Matt collapsed against the mattress, wrecked. Sweaty. Dazed. His hand blindly searched for yours, fingers curling weakly around them. “I—I—nggg.” he mumbled.
You smirked, brushing a hand through his hair.
“Dead?” you ask, nudging his shoulder with your knuckles.
He groans, low and broken. “Dead,” he confirms, voice hoarse. Then, quieter, with a lilt of awe: “That was insane.”
You hum like you’re satisfied, brushing your fingers along the waistband of his boxers where they’ve slipped halfway down his thighs. “I thought you could handle it.”
“I can— just— ngg.”he mumbles, finally peeking at you from under his arm with pink cheeks and eyes that haven’t stopped darting to your mouth since you smiled. “You’re evil.”
You grin wider. “You loved it.”
He doesn’t deny it. Just shifts, slowly—still a bit jelly-legged—and reaches for your wrist. His fingers are a little shaky, but deliberate as they wrap around your arm and tug until you’re laying beside him. Chest to chest.
“I wanna…” he starts, but trails off, eyes flicking down your body and then back up. There’s something so sweet in the way he swallows—like he’s overwhelmed and greedy at once.
“What?” you murmur, brushing some hair off his forehead. He leans into your hand.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses a kiss to your collarbone and breathes you in.
“Wanna make you feel like that,” he says finally. Voice wrecked, a little ragged. “Wanna be the reason you can’t walk right tomorrow.”
You laugh—startled, delighted. “That’s ambitious of you.”
His gaze sharpens a little, mouth tilting in the beginnings of a smirk. “So let me try.”
And when he dips his head, pressing one slow kiss right under your jaw, you let him.
Matt’s fingers trail the vibrator down your body, light and teasing at first, barely brushing your skin through your panties. You arch toward the touch, heart pounding a wild rhythm.
He leans in, eyes locked on yours. “Ready?”
Before you can answer, the vibrator dips lower, slipping under the fabric, settling right where you know it’s going to drive you insane.
Your panties are damp where the toy presses through, soaked in the slick sheen of your arousal, glistening under the soft bedroom light.. When Matt slides the vibrator lower, the fabric clings wetly to your skin, slipping just enough to expose the flush spreading over your inner thighs.
You can feel yourself dripping—warm, slick, and utterly desperate. The vibrating head nudges at your clit, slick with your own wetness, and it’s like electricity sparking through your nerves.
Matt’s fingers rest on your hips, steadying you, but his eyes don’t leave the way your body reacts—the slight arch, the trembling pulse of your thighs, the way your breaths catch unevenly as the wet heat intensifies.
Your folds are swollen, glistening, flushed deep pink, and you can almost taste yourself on your lips as you part them, trying to catch your breath. The slick wetness makes every movement, every touch, smoother, more urgent.
Matt’s mouth trails kisses along your neck, but his gaze is glued to the growing shine between your legs, to the way the vibrator hums against the slickest part of you, sending shivers all the way through your spine.
You’re soaked—more than soaked—and he knows it. He sees it. It’s like the whole room smells of you, sweet and raw and needing.
When the wave finally crashes over you—loud and shuddering and utterly beautiful, Matt doesn’t pull away. He holds you through every tremor, every breathless sigh, his mouth soft and warm against your skin as the last ripples of pleasure settle.
You lie there, tangled, breathless, dripping with satisfaction—and Matt just smiles, brushing a gentle kiss against your thigh.
“Love you, baby.”
the extended portion is lwk buns sorry guys i tried to live up to the first part :((
in which . . . chris fucks you so deep and slow your pussy makes him see stars and bruises his cock. you make him cum hard, cry harder, and maybe break a little. he loves it.
Chris is panting above you, hips stuttering every time you clench down around him. His voice is all breathless whine and ruined laughter, dark lashes fluttering as he tries to keep his eyes on you. Your cunt stretches around him slowly, inch by thick inch, and the second he’s buried deep, you squeeze him so hard his breath catches.
❝Christ—don’t do that,❞ he groans, jaw clenching, flushed lips parted. ❝Feels like you’re going to snap it off.❞ He laughs through it, low and shaky, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. ❝Fuck, ma. Your pussy’s trying to kill me.❞
And he means it. Your walls flutter and pulse around him like they never want to let go, slick and tight and fucking greedy. He’s too big—too thick for how little you are. The size difference makes it almost unbearable. You’re stretched so wide around him that your belly bulges with every deep thrust, and it makes you both a little crazed. Every time he pulls back even a little, you clench again, dragging him back in like you’re starving for it. And maybe you are.
Chris is moaning against your collarbone, face pressed into your shoulder, gritting his teeth while you writhe beneath him, soaked and crying out with every slow, devastating thrust. He’s holding your hips like he’s afraid you’ll slip off his cock, fingers digging hard enough to leave prints. Your bodies slap together in a rhythm that feels almost sacred, thick, wet, and dizzying.
He fucks you like you’re the only girl in the world. Like you’re the only thing that could ever ruin him this well. You don’t even realise you’re crying until he slows down and kisses the wetness off your cheeks. ❝Too much?❞ he asks, voice hoarse. You shake your head frantically, gasping, clawing at his back. ❝No, no, just—keep going. Please, Chris.❞
That wrecks him. He groans, deep and wrecked, eyes fluttering shut as he drives into you again, deeper this time. Slower. Bruising. He hits that spongy part inside you that makes your vision spark white, and you go limp, eyes rolling back. ❝There it is, ma, fuck… right there.❞ He pants, hands tightening. ❝That little spot that makes you go dumb. Feels so fucking good. You’re so fucking tight.❞
You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it drags along your walls, the stretch too much but never enough. Your clit’s aching, your cunt fluttering, soaking him as you cum again, your body seizing up so hard he gasps, his hips twitching from the pressure.
And when he cums? It’s hot, thick, and deep—long, messy ropes that spill into your cunt as he groans into your neck, hips twitching. He doesn’t stop until he’s empty and trembling, body collapsing on top of yours with a soft, shuddering breath.
You’re stretched, aching, and stuffed full. And he’s just as ruined—maybe more. Bruised, breathless, and buried deep inside your tight little pussy that just won’t let him go.
Later, the water’s steaming hot when he pulls you into the shower, both of you boneless and fucked-out. You’re clinging to him like you might fall over—and you might. Your thighs still tremble, and your head feels light, cloudy with afterglow. Chris holds you like he never wants to let you go, one hand cradling the back of your neck, the other stroking your hip.
Then you feel him flinch. ❝Ow—fuck,❞ he winces when the water hits him below the waist. You blink up at him, dazed. ❝What? Did I hurt you?❞ His laugh is hoarse and breathless, chest still rising heavy against yours. ❝Yeah, baby. You definitely did.❞ Your eyes drop, and your jaw goes slack.
His cock is soft now, but still red and thick, flushed a dark, angry pink. The tip is swollen, slick with leftover cum and water. A faint purplish bruise is already forming at the base. ❝Chris!❞ you squeak, stunned. He groans and gives a sheepish smile. ❝You were clenching so hard, I thought I was going to black out. Like… I think you actually broke my dick.❞
You cover your face with your hands, horrified and turned on at the same time. ❝Oh my god. I didn’t mean to—❞ He tugs your hands down gently, kissing your knuckles. ❝Don’t even think about apologising. Worth every second. You’re a fucking menace, and I love it.❞
When he moves again to rinse off, he groans like an old man. You catch the twitch of pain in his jaw. ❝Okay, but… You might actually need ice,❞ you whisper, biting your lip. Chris grins, eyes full of mischief and heat. ❝Only if you kiss it better first.❞
where . . . you're starting to get jealous at all the girls chris hooks up with, even tho the two of your are just bsfs, but when chris catches on after noticing you all pissy after his latest hook-up, he gives you one night to taste what you'd been secretly begging for.
contains . . . smut, fingering, jealousy sex?, squirting, smoking, praising, college au, friends to lovers?
credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept
HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #4
"Oh fuck! Chris!" A random girl's voice rang out through the door to you and Chris's shared dorm room, the unmistakable sounds of sex clear as day through the hardwood. "Don't stop—! Mmmm—!"
You sighed as you sat out in the hallways, scrolling through your phone as you waited for him to finish up and kick the girl out so you could finally get to your bed and just call it a night after the shitty day you'd had, this just being the cherry on top.
He'd completely forgotten to text you about having someone over, so you were sure it was some random chick with a basic name who was just drooling for his dick till he decided to bring her to his dorm. Thank god the obscene noises were clear enough through the door before you turned it so that you stopped yourself from seeing that shit.
"Oh my godd— You're dick is sooo good, Chris— I'm gonna cum—!" You groaned at the stereotypical, porno voice she had, like nails on the goddamn chalkboard to your unfortunate ears.
"That's it baby, yeah— Cum on this dick—" Now that voice, you could listen to it for fucking hours. You'd never fully heard Chris during the few times you overheard his sex, mostly due to the girl trying to upstage him like it was hot to hear a wailing banshee or some shit, but when you did, god, did it sound like heaven.
The way he'd groan from the pleasure, his little grunts and pants coming through in time with his audible thrusts, the way he'd talk dirty to the girls like some wet dream come to life, the way he'd—
"Chris!" There it is, wailing banshee yet again. Thankfully, despite having to listen to that god awful sound, you knew it was the finish line, just a couple more moments for the girl to get her shit back on and scurry out of the dorm as if anyone would care if they saw her.
The moment she'd almost stumbled past you, an almost judgmental look on her face that you matched with a glare as she passed by, you finally walked into your dorm room, spotting Chris laying spread out on his bed. His boxers were pulled up though a little loose as you could practically see the base of his happy trail, his chest rose and fell in breaths he was still trying to calm, his hair a disheveled mess, and lipstick kiss marks messily scattered his toned skin.
He looked like a god damn dream that you just wanted to sink your teeth into, but as you remembered just why he was in this state, you shook yourself from your thoughts, huffing as you walked over to your closet.
"Sorry 'bout no heads up, she barely gave me a second before tossing me into bed," He explained, chuckling as he flicked his lighter at the end of a joint he'd grabbed, breathing in the smoke before blowing it back out to curl up into the air. "Fuckin' tiger, I tell ya,"
You didn't respond to him, rolling your eyes to yourself as you tugged off your jacket and hung it up, taking off all of your jewelry and placing them all in their respective places. He'd noticed your silent demeanor, raising an eyebrow before sitting up in his bed, his legs dangling over the side as he tilted his head at you.
"You pissed at me or somethin'? I said I was sorry about the head's up," He asked, making you sigh as you weren't given a choice other than to answer him as to not be seen as the dick in this situation.
"'M fine," You muttered, your hands coming down to grip the hem of your shirt before tugging it up over your head, having gotten used to changing in front of Chris. But he knew all too damn well that you weren't just 'fine,' a scoff leaving him before he pushed himself up and off of his bed, his eyes subtly tracing over your figure from behind.
You tried to pay no attention to him as he approached you, but the feel of his warm hands on your sides made you shiver instantly and stiffen a bit. "Now I know your ass is lying to me," Chris murmured to you, his hand that held the joint only letting that thumb draw small circles on your hip as to not risk burning you. "You gotta tell me what's peeving you, ma."
You let the silence hang for a moment longer, willing yourself not to be affected by how he touched you or looked at you or talked to you, but fuck, did it feel good. You finally sighed as you crossed your arms, your eyes glancing away from where he peaked over your shoulder at you.
"I just, don't know what you see in those chicks," You mutter out, glancing at him as he smirked, as if knowing something you didn't.
"Someone's soundin' jealous," He teased you without a beat, chuckling at the way you turned your head to glare at him, his hands lifting up in mock surrender. "'M just sayin', ma–"
"'M not jealous. Why would I be jealous of some wailing banshee in my room?" You huffed out, making him perk up a little before smirking.
"Oh yeah? That's what you think of them?"
"I mean, what else do they sound like?"
"Like girls who are having the best fuckin' night with me," Chris grinned, noticing the way you looked away from him again, letting the silence ring out, before he let an idea strike him.
"Alright, how 'bout.. I make it up to you for leaving you outside to hear all of that," His voice was lower in your ear now, alluring and warm, as you felt his hands slowly undoing the button and zipper to your pants, before he whispered in your ear. "And you show me what a gorgeous girl should really sound like..."
You should protest, you should just push him off and continue being pissed and just go to bed, but as your countless fantasies about him filled your head, you just couldn't say no to this. You let out a shaky breath before turning your head to him. "Fine.."
You watched the way his signature grin tugged at his lips, his eyes running over your face before landing on your lips. "Atta girl," He whispered, liking the way your breath hitched softly before he leaned in to press his lips against yours, gentle, sweet, as if to give you the option to back out, and yet you didn't.
You melted into the kiss as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your pants before tugging them down, letting them drop to the floor around your ankles, his hands sliding back up your sides as you mouths slowly moved together. Goosebumps rose on your skin before you slowly turned your body fully to him, your hands touching his chest before sliding up to cup his jaw.
Your back arched into him as his hands slowly hugged around your waist, pulling you closer into him as his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, gladly entering your mouth as you parted them for him. As the kiss started to heat up into a make out, you felt as Chris tugged you back to the bed, your steps a little messy as you were too lost in the kiss to care.
You felt your back hit the mattress of his bed as he climbed over you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he settled between your spread legs, your kissing heavy and messy, almost desperate now practically chased each other's mouths like you were the last people on earth.
You let out a soft, needy sound as he pulled from the kiss, one that made him grin down at you all smug whilst you glared and felt blush creep up your neck. His lips pressed a kiss to your jaw, slowly trailing down to your neck as you lay your head back, giving him more exposed skin. You felt as his hands crept behind your back, unhooking your bra before tugging it off of you and tossing it to the floor.
"Fuck... Didn't know you had such perfect tits," He smirked, his thumbs coming up to tease over your already stiffened nipples, making a shiver run up your spine before you let out a soft whimper.
Your hips subtly rocked up involuntarily, making your feel the hard bulge in Chris's boxers, stars practically spotting your eyes at just the prospect of what lie underneath the fabric.
"Fuckin' eager, huh?" Chris chuckled, though he couldn't help the way his cock twitched at the action, making him needy to pleasure you just like he promised. His lips kissed back up your neck before meeting yours in another kiss. "Need these off.."
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down before pulling them fully off, tossing them where your bra already lay, his fingers teasing over your inner thighs to feel you squirm before delving between your folds, a groan leaving him against your lips.
"Jesus, you're fuckin' wet— You this excited f'me, baby?" He cooed teasingly.
"Shut up.." But your words were hardly harsh, a needy whine spilling from your lips as his fingers gathered up your juices before rubbing at your throbbing clit, pleasure rushing through your body at his touch. "Fuck.. Chris.." You whimpered, noticing the way you whined his name made his hips twitch in need, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.
"You like that, ma..?" He whispered against your lips, grinning as your hips started to rock into his hand, chasing that pleasure as his fingers drew firm circles on your clit, your head nodding as you whimpered. "Yeah, I know you do," He teased.
You huffed as his fingers stopped, about to tell him to keep going, before your suddenly felt him slipping his fingers into your drooling cunt, a gasp leaving your lips at the way his fingers felt thicker and — fuck — so much longer than yours.
Your mind went fuzzy as he started pumping his finger in and out of your pussy, the soft, squelching noises making your toes curl and a whine fall from your lips, your hands digging your nails into his back a bit as he pressed sweet kisses to your jawline and face.
"That feel good, baby?" He cooed, smiling against your cheek as you whined out a pretty "yes" in response, his eyes looking over your face, all pink and cute, eyes half lidded and fluttering at the pleasure, soft pink lips parted as soft pants left you.
"F-fuck— Chris—" You whimpered as he sped up his fingers, the sloppy noises getting slightly louder at his quickened pace. Panting breaths left your lips as pleasure bloomed throughout your body, when suddenly, you felt as his free hand slid down underneath your knee and hiked it up, a gasp leaving your lips as his fingers plunged harder.
"That's it, mama, that's it–" He groaned softly against your cheek, hearing as your panting quickened, a sound he knew all too well with girls, his fingers keeping that delicious quick pace at this deeper angle.
"'M close— I-I'm gonna cum—" You whined out, your nails digging crescents into the skin of Chris's back, feeling your toes curl at the burning pleasure that threatened to push you over the edge.
"Yeah? C'mon mama, cum for me, wanna see how pretty you looking coming undone," He groaned against your jawline, nipping at the skin there before he rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at his fingers pumping your cunt whilst his other hand pushed your thigh up just a bit higher.
And suddenly, it was as if your vision went white, your mouth falling open in a gasped moan, your back arching as you felt your orgasm crash over you harder than you'd ever felt in your life, pure and utter ecstasy burning throughout your body as you moan out gorgeously, eyes rolled back and nails clawing at Chris's back.
Your leg trembled and twitched in Chris's grip as his fingers rode you through your high, your chest sputtering up and down as your breathing was shaky, your mind fuzzy as you gushed all over Chris's fingers. You barely comprehend what had happened until you heard Chris's voice cut through your blissful haze.
"Holy shit— I didn't know you could fuckin' squirt like that," He chuckled, your brows furrowing in confusion before you lifted your head, your eyes widening at the wet mess that was his sheets and his fingers, blush blooming on your cheeks out for embarrassment that Chris caught into quick.
"Ma, you've– you've never fuckin' squirted before?" He asked, near awe in his voice as he chuckled at the way you tried to hide behind your hands, his ego being inflated by knowing that he was the one to make you squirt for the first time.
"Shut up!" You squeaked out, unable to not giggle a little as he tugged your hands away with his free hand, peppering your face with kisses.
"That's so fuckin' hot, baby," He murmured against your skin, addicted to the way you giggled, before his hips pressed against your thigh, reminding him of his still hard cock, now begging for attention.
You felt his fingers slip from your cunt, whimpering at the loss and at watching him lick them clean with a groan, before his hands moved down to tug down the waistband of his boxers, his cock springing out, thick and heavy, his tip a flushed pink as pre-cum leaked.
Your eyes widening at the sight, your cunt fluttering with interest as you felt arousal filling you once more, before looking up at his face, his eyes lustful and dark, a smirk on his gorgeous lips.
"You up for another round, ma?"
☆ : this is currently not proofread cause i just wrote most of it in the car, Im on a trip that I ain't even know about until yesterday 😭 so im so sorry if this seems rushed, I really liked this idea and hope I executed it good for all of you <33 anyways, i think they're cute asf-
where . . . You’ve been teasing your substitute teacher all week—flirty glances, drawn-out questions, bending rules just enough to stay out of real trouble.
He finally calls you out after class, locking the door behind you with that usual, amused calm. You expected a scolding… not for things to unravel on his lap.
“Eyes up here.”
His voice lands like a soft command, calm and knowing. You’re caught—again—gazing down at the loose line of buttons on his shirt, where a hint of skin peeks through. You hadn’t meant to stare, but there’s something about him—about Matt—that pulls your eyes before your brain can stop them.
You blink and lift your gaze, cheeks already warm, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I was just… looking.”
Matt raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he leans back slightly against the desk. “You sure? Looked like you were about to start drooling.” A hand flies to your chest, dramatically. “Was not,” you say, then add with a grin, “Maybe a little.”
He chuckles, something low and velvety, and begins to move around you—slow steps that feel unhurried but intentional. As he closes the distance between you both, he reaches to shut the office blinds, then twists the lock on the door with a soft click. The room dims, warmth blooming in the space between you. Your heart picks up. This is no longer casual.
“You’re a bold one,” he murmurs, his tone still light, but with an edge that makes your stomach twist in anticipation. “Or just curious?”
You tilt your head coyly, voice soft. “Can’t it be both?”
When he turns back around, his eyes settle on you like he’s making a decision. Then, with a small crook of his finger, he gestures you forward. When you reach him, his hands find your hips—firm, warm, and sure. He slowly spins you around, guiding your back gently against his chest. His touch never rushes. One slips around your waist, the other skimming down your thigh as he sits back into his chair, pulling you with him until you’re perched on his lap, back nestled fully to his chest.
His voice brushes your ear, calm and almost affectionate. “There. That’s better.”
You hum, adjusting slightly to the shape of him under you—already hard, thick, and pressing hot against the curve of your ass. You bite your bottom lip, shifting subtly as if you’re trying not to make it obvious. But you both know it’s intentional.
He groans quietly, a hand curling around your thigh. “You don’t even try to hide it.
“Why should I?” you murmur, leaning back just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. “You like it.” He looks down at you “I definitely do,” he admits, mouth brushing your skin.
His hand slides slowly between your thighs, stroking lightly over your inner skin, teasing. You gasp softly, shifting your legs open without needing to be asked. He drags his fingers up the front of your panties—already soaked—then hooks one side and gently pulls the fabric aside. You feel cool air brush your folds, your hips jerking subtly as he hums behind you.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging two fingers through your slick. “Already so wet, sweetheart.”
You make a soft sound in your throat, pressing back into him more fully as his other arm wraps around your waist. His fingers stroke through your folds again, this time slower, more intentional. When he finally pushes one finger inside, you choke on a breath—his touch is just deep enough to make your thighs tremble.
“Matt—”
“You take me so well,” he whispers, fingers working you open gently. “You like this, don’t you?”
Your head falls back to his shoulder, lips parting. “I—y-yeah, I—”
He presses a second finger in beside the first, and you arch, hips lifting slightly in his lap. His hand tightens at your waist, keeping you anchored while his fingers begin to move—slow, smooth pumps that send little sparks ricocheting through your belly. Your walls flutter around him, soaking his fingers, your thighs trembling.
“You’re perfect like this,” he breathes, his voice thick against your ear. “Such a pretty messy...oh god”
You clutch at the arms of the chair, grinding softly down against his hand, every nerve alight with want. His palm brushes your clit with each thrust, your breath catching as your thighs try to close—he stops that with a gentle nudge.
“Don’t hide from me now,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart.”
You feel your body tensing, slick dripping down onto his palm, your breath turning to broken gasps. Just before you break, he pulls his fingers out slow, dragging them back over your clit once more before releasing you, his free hand already curling around your hips.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
A beat later, you’re turned to face him—chest to chest—as he sinks lower into the chair. You rise onto your knees above him while he strokes himself slowly, guiding the head of his cock between your folds. The stretch is immediate. You gasp, grabbing his shoulders, fingers digging in.
“Fuck,” you whimper, hips trembling as you start to lower down. “You’re— nghh...haah– oh my God...i- c- can't—”
He slides in inch by inch, and it’s a lot—thick, hot, impossibly deep. Your walls flutter trying to accommodate him, clenching around every inch he gives you. Your knees shake slightly as your thighs spread wider, struggling to take him fully.
“fuckfuck– take it,” he murmurs, voice rough now, hand flat on your lower back, the other splayed across your hip, steadying you. “ngh—c’mon, baby—just like that—”
When your hips finally meet his, you feel stretched wide, impossibly full. You exhale a shaky moan, burying your face against his neck, lips brushing his skin as you try to catch your breath.
“Feels like...you were made for me,” he mutters, pressing kisses to your jaw. “"oh, baby—baby, so tight—.”
Your fingers tangle in the collar of his shirt as you begin to move, slow at first—testing the angle, adjusting to the drag of him inside you. His cock fills you so perfectly that you can feel every ridge, every pulse, each motion scraping along all the right places. His arms wrap around you, anchoring you to him like he’s afraid to let you go.
You ride him with your arms around his shoulders, chest pressed to his, breath mingling as your pace builds. His hands stay on you—one guiding your hips in rhythm, the other slipping up to cradle the back of your head as he presses his mouth to yours again and again.
“You’re doing so good,” he breathes into your skin. “Just like that.”
Every time you sink back down, he meets you with an upward thrust, deeper and rougher now, chasing the pleasure that’s building between your thighs. You whine into his neck, clenching tighter around him with each pass, your skin damp and flushed.
“Matt— f- uck... nghh– ah! I’m gonna—” you gasp, voice high and shaking.
You fall apart in his lap, trembling around him as he fucks you through it, whispering praise against your skin until he follows—hips jerking up, cock buried deep, spilling inside you with a groan that echoes off the office walls.
You go still in his arms, both of you breathless, wrapped around each other like you’ve got nowhere else to be. The air is thick with heat, your skin tingling from the aftershock.
Eventually, you lean back just far enough to meet his eyes again—still dazed, your lips swollen, cheeks flushed.
“So…” you pant, lips quirking into a smile, “do I still get detention?”
Matt exhales a quiet laugh, brushing your hair back from your face, fingers curling loosely at the nape of your neck.
“You just earned straight A’s sweetheart.”
ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ꒰ㅤ@ RiNSAEㅤ꒱ㅤㅤdo not work or copyㅤㅤ⊹ㅤㅤwhat else can matt do?
