ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ bsf!chris ⋆ sexual tension ⋆ light banter ⋆ making out ⋆ dryhumping ⋆ cumming in pants ⋆ fluff + more.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕... being best friends meant you were off-limits, but chris couldn’t help himself from posting sexy stories on his instagram, hoping you’d see them. he never realized just how much he affected you—until now.
Chris has been looking at the many pictures he’d taken today while out, his hair still damp and messy, stubble coming in already. He’s searching for the perfect photo to put on his story—a photo that’d maybe make you think he’s hot after all.
It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. But he does it anyway.
He keeps opening instagram, trying to see if you’ve viewed his story yet. And when he sees your profile picture and name among the thousands of people, with a small heart in the bottom right corner of your picture (indicating you’ve liked it), his heart skips a beat before it begins to beat like he’d run a marathon.
When he sees a notification pop up from you, he almost drops his phone, trying to seem calm and collected as he texts back.
You smile to yourself, already halfway done getting ready. It’s not like you really expect anything more from Chris, knowing how he is about relationships, and also not wanting to feel crushed if he ever rejected you. But you still spray on your favorite perfume—the one he said smelled good.
Meanwhile, Chris is freaking out. He can’t believe you’re coming in an hour. He hasn’t prepared his heart yet! He needs to get himself together but the idea of watching movies with you while possibly cuddling on his bed—or sofa—is doing weird things to his heart and brain... and dick. He hopes his dick won’t act up when you’re here.
But it’s almost as if his dick’s got a mind of its own-
Enough of that, he should be focusing on cleaning up his room, making sure his bed is clean and everything is perfect. God, you never fail to make him feel like some stereotypical teenage girl with a crush. It’s honestly kind of embarrassing. But with you, he’s willing to swallow his pride.
"So... What do you wanna watch?" Chris sits beside you on his sofa, arm slung around the back of it, his knuckles brushing against your arm casually, the remote in his grip. He’s aimlessly scrolling through the different catalogs of movies displayed on his TV screen, trying to act casual despite the way his stomach is doing somersaults at your proximity and how good you smell.
"Let’s watch something scary," you suggest, eyeing his other hand that’s holding a can of Pepsi. Without thinking too much of it, you grab his wrist and pull his hand towards your mouth, taking a sip from his drink.
"Hey-" Chris laughs, pushing you away lightly in a playful manner. "You have your own drink."
"Yours is tastier." You shrug, as if that makes any sense considering your drink is also a can of Pepsi identical to his.
"Whatever." Chris rolls his eyes with a sarcastic mutter under his breath and leans back, taking a sip from his soda.
As you snatch the remote from his hand, saying he was taking too long to pick a movie, Chris realizes he basically just kissed you—indirectly—because your lips touched the opening of the can when you took a sip.
So he takes another big gulp from his drink, lips twitching at the corners. He wonders if your lips taste as sweet as the Pepsi he’s drinking-
"What’re you thinking about, all zoned out?" You tease, leaning closer.
Chris almost chokes on the carbonated drink in his mouth, quickly gulping it down as he leans back instinctively. "Nothing. Just- Oh! You picked the movie already? Nice."
God, why is he talking like that???
A soft flush creeps up his neck as he realizes how damn nervous he sounds all of a sudden. He’s usually always nervous around you but he’s great at masking it, making sure his face and voice never gives away how he’s feeling on the inside.
But something about you today, it’s driving him crazy.
Maybe it’s the way you’re acting, all teasing and zero personal space; Or maybe it’s the way you’re dressed today, wearing a shirt with such a loose and low neckline he can basically see your tits if he glanced down it, and pj pants you borrowed from him that shows your curves so well.
Fuck, he wishes he could slap that perfect ass while you-
"Dude, you’re really getting in your head so much today." You tilt your head, confused and maybe a little concerned behind all the teasing. "You okay?"
Chris nods, maybe too quickly. "Yeah, yeah- okay. I’m okay."
His fast but unfocused reply causes you to blink, confused. "Uh, okay. Good."
He almost breathes out a sigh of relief but chooses to keep his gaze on the movie instead, hoping you won’t notice the flush beginning to adorn his pale cheeks—and the way he’s starting to fidget a little more, although subtly.
And it’s not like he would usually get a hard-on with you simply sitting beside him, since he’s used to your presence-
Well, that would be the case if your hand wasn’t half-rested on his thigh right now. He can see you through his peripheral vision and you’re completely focused on the movie, unaware of where your hand is and what it’s doing to him.
Clearing his throat, he shifts ever so slightly. Wrong move. His breath hitches in his throat when your pinky accidentally brushes against his growing bulge when he moves. The sensation nearly makes him jolt, a soft groan getting swallowed down thickly in order not to alert you of what’s happening to him.
Fuck, why did he decide to go commando in sweat shorts???
The fabric is thin enough that he can feel the warmth of your hand against his thigh, and it’s driving him crazy with need. He’s so sure his pupils are huge right now, cheeks probably embarrassingly flushed. He’s taking deep breaths to calm himself, trying to think of anything to get rid of his boner.
But, of course, nothing’s working. Just his damn luck.
You suddenly freeze, and Chris’s heart nearly jumps out of his throat when he sees you slowly looking down at his lap where your hand is almost touching a tented spot on the front of his sweat shorts. The imprint his hard dick is leaving on one side of his shorts is actually insane and you barely keep your jaw from dropping.
When you look up at his face, you realize he’s already staring at you, in a way that makes your stomach do all types of gymnastic tricks, that familiar feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. You can clearly see his pupils taking over most of his irises, showing just how turned on he is right now.
"Chris, you-"
"Don’t. Don’t mention it."
He’s obviously mortified you found out—maybe a tad bit more turned on than before now that you know what kind of effect you have on him—but very much wishing the sofa would swallow him whole right now.
You’re quiet for a moment, your shocked expression turning unreadable—and that makes Chris’s heart pound against his chest. Are you going to push him away? Tell him how disgusting he is? Never talk to him again?
"Do you... need help with... it?"
Okay- Woah. What- That isn’t what he expected.
Chris is just staring at you, blinking slowly like his brain is struggling to comprehend what just came out of your mouth—like you’ve spoken a foreign language he’d never heard of before. His silence is starting to make you nervous, too, but before you could backpedal, he speaks.
"You serious?"
Your heart skips a beat at the slight hoarseness of his voice, how his Adam’s apple is bobbing as he swallows thickly, eyes slightly wide—almost disbelieving—as he looks at you like you’d just told him something crazy. Which you kind of did.
"Yeah... I mean, if you want to-"
"I do- I want to. I mean, if you want to-"
A beat of silence stretched between you two after his stammered reply. The absurdity of this situation is almost laughable, and you’d have laughed if it weren’t for the heavy tension in the air.
Before you know it, his lips are already on yours, a little clumsy due to how nervous he is. Fuck, he’s never this nervous when he’d hooked up with other girls. It’s like you bring out the shy, boyish side of him without even trying.
"Sorry- Fuck-" He mumbles breathlessly against your lips as he accidentally knocks his teeth lightly against yours, lips chasing after yours when you tried to pull away for breath.
You climb onto his lap before you can think it through, thighs bracketing his hips, clothed core aligned with his chubbed crotch. His dick is so hard and needy that you can feel it twitching under you as you settle on his lap, pressing your weight down on it.
"Oh- Okay- Shit, you’re gonna... Fuck..." He breathes out, babbling nonsense, as his hands find your hips, gripping them firmly in his hands like he’s afraid you’d get up.
He’s barely keeping his hips from jerking up as he feels your weight on his throbbing cock, the warmth from your core making him bite back a groan. He’s looking up at you like you hold the answer to the universe as his tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips.
You wordlessly lean down and kiss him again, your hips giving an experimental roll against his and feeling his breath hitch into your mouth. His hands tighten on your hips in response, fingers digging into your flesh, as he feels himself slowly unravel under your touch.
Chris wouldn’t call himself a submissive guy in bed, but something about you taking control like this is making him melt.
His lips move against yours greedily, tongue tangling with each other, spit being exchanged without a second thought. His hips begin moving in sync with yours, grinding up into your core, your clothes giving delicious friction.
"Wait- I might... I think I might come just from this—mmhn—y’gotta slow down- ffuuck--" Chris groans into your mouth when your hips pick up pace, grinding against him in a fast but steady rhythm.
"Can’t stop... feels too good," you mumble against his lips, a soft whimper vibrating against his lips as you rub your clothed pussy against his rock hard bulge. You desperately chase the tension coiling deep in your gut, wanting to feel that familiar burst of euphoric pleasure.
"Oh- Fuck--" Chris moans, his head falling back against the wall behind his sofa with a soft thud, eyelids fluttering before he squeezes them shut, lips parted. "Seriously- I’m gonna cum."
"Me too—fuck—me too--" Your movements are jerky before you realize it, hips desperate and uncoordinated. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders, eyes locked onto his heavy-lidded ones as you begin to feel the bands in your stomach slowly snap, white-hot pleasure coursing through your body.
The realization that you’re coming just from grinding on his hardened cock through his pants is enough for Chris to follow you into those blissful waves of pleasure. His hips jerks against yours, grunts and groans filling the room along with your moans as you both ride out your highs together.
As you slump forward and onto him, his hands leave your hips to wrap around your waist instead, dick still throbbing inside his shorts, a wet patch already forming from his hot cum. He’s not letting go of you at all, arms like iron bands around your middle, face buried in your shoulder.
He’s suddenly embarrassed at the fact that he came inside his pants like some teenager—something he’s never done before. And he doesn’t want you to see the painfully noticeable wet spot on his shorts.
But he can’t obviously hide something so visible.
"Oh...!" You gasp softly at the wetness that’s transferred onto your pants from his, and your eyes immediately glitter with amusement and mischief. "You made me so wet."
The innuendo behind your words isn’t lost on him and his cheeks grow hotter as he huffs softly. "Yeah, and you enjoyed it."
"Next time, let’s do it for real." You say as you both lay in bed that night, facing each other in the darkness. You can hear his breath hitch, barely audible but still loud enough to make your stomach flip.
Chris’s voice is breathless when he speaks, like your casual words knocked the wind out of his lungs—in a good way, in a way that’s got him bricked up. "Yeah..."
isa’s rambling ۶ৎ well, you see... he posted this pic on his story and i gasped and i just knew i had to write something ’cause he’s a slut and a sick fuck :) idk if i’ll do a part two, but dryhumping is enough you freaks (i was too lazy to write more)
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ BSF!MATT WALKS IN ON YOU MASTRUBATING ࿐ྂ
soft moans and pants leave your mouth, your fingers are buried deep inside your cunt, sloppily pumping in and out.
your body is arched into your own touch, hips bucking up as your unoccupied hand shakingly holds your phone, a random porn video playing.
you’re normally never the one to go to the infamous orange black site, but today was different, you were craving release, so before you knew your fingers were flying over your keyboard.
you fasten your pace, moaning softly as you grip the phone more tightly.
and just then, a familiar sound was heard. footsteps, ones you recognise immediately, followed by an excited voice.
“surprise—“
his voice gets cut off immediately as he stands there, shocked, in your doorway. your best friend matt.
you gasp, you want to stop your movements, but somehow you can’t, and it makes matt’s brows raise higher.
“are you- shit i-“ he stumbles over his words as he stares at you, completely mesmerised.
you let out a moan, eyes focused on his. he swallows hard, continuering to clumsily explain.
“uh i was yknow, in the neighbourhood… im- im sorry i shouldn’t..”
but he trails off on his own, eyes fixated on your needy body, licking his lips unconsciously.
“i uh… i should go…” he whispers, but it doesn’t sound convincing at all. you whimper, your voice soft and breathy.
“matt…”
and that’s all i took, before you knew it matt’s fingers were inside your pussy as he watched your face confront in pleasure.
“mmpfh- oh shit..”
you moan, squeezing your eyes shut and bucking your hips up like a needy puppy.
matt lets out a low groan in response, his other hand absently goes down to squeeze his bulge softly, just once.
he lets go of his bulge and picks up your phone, the porn video embarrassingly still playing. he hums, almost satisfied as he watches the actors on the screen, his fingers still pumping in and out of you.
“fuck… i didnt know you were into this kinda stuff…”
he whispers roughly. you whine in response, weak hands trying to snatch your phone back, but they crumble as you feel him hitting even deeper inside of you.
matts amused smile is focused on your phone, while casually fingering you, like it’s something he does every day.
“god this is filthy.. you like being a filthy girl huh?”
he growls under his breath, eyes glimmering with arousal as he watches the video you were previously watching.
he glances at you, turning over the screen so you can acknowledge the horny video you were watching a moment ago.
he raises a brow.
“y’know, we can make this reality if you’d like?”
you let out a groan combined with a moan, your brows furrowed in both annoyance and arousal.
“never say corny shit like that again..”
matt chuckles in response, before pressing a kiss on your jawline and fastening the pace of his fingers.
a/n okay okay don’t come for me i also have no clue why he randomly broke into the house… atleast you guys have a short blurb.. 😔
the slap of skin against skin is loud in the room, a wet, rhythmic clap that echoes off the walls and drowns out the noise in your head. you are riding chris with a ferocity that borders on violence, your hips snapping down hard, taking his cock deep inside you with a force that makes your head spin. it’s not about pleasure. it’s about exorcism. every time you slam your hips down, you are trying to punish yourself for hoping, for being stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.
you stare down at chris, but you don’t really see him. your vision is blurred by the sweat dripping into your eyes and the mental image of him. the guy who drifted away without ever knowing you existed as anything more than a friend in the group. the guy who made you feel something real for the first time in two years, only to pull back for whatever god damn reason. you noticed when the texts stopped coming and the jokes lost their edge. the friend group politics, the history with someone else. it was all a wall you couldn’t climb, and you broke your own heart trying.
chris’s hands are on your waist, but he’s not guiding you, he’s just holding on for the ride. his chest heaves, his abs contracting every time you drop your weight onto him. he feels amazing, thick and hard, filling you up perfectly, but you are chasing a numbness that won’t come. the burn in your thighs is grounding, a sharp physical pain to counteract the dull, hollow ache in your chest. you grind down ruthlessly, circling your hips, trying to erase the memory of that last conversation where the vibe was just… off.
suddenly, chris’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. he plants his feet on the mattress and thrusts up to meet you, stilling your frantic movements. you gasp, forced to stop, your body trembling with the sudden lack of motion.
"fucks goin’ on with you?" he pants, his voice rough and breathless. he frowns up at you, his eyes searching your face for something he can’t quite find. he straightens his back, sitting up slightly so you are face to face, the connection between you still deep and intimate.
"nothin’s goin’ on.” you snap immediately. your voice is cold, distant, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between your naked bodies. you try to pull away, to resume the rhythm that was drowning out your thoughts, but his hands are like iron clamps on your hips.
chris chuckles dryly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. he shakes his head, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. "you’ve been slamming your hips down like you’re tryna break your bones or some shit, dude. like, what the fuck." he looks at you with a mix of concern and confusion. "y’know you can just talk to me, right?"
the offer hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. you want to scream. you want to tell him about the disappointment, about the future you stupidly imagined in your head, about how much it hurts to be just another friend to someone who seemed like he would genuinely bring happiness into your life. but you can’t just spill that secret interest you’ve been having for the guy that probably never even intended to be more than friends with you. that’s not what this is. this is casual. this is just fucking.
no one in the friend group even knew about you and chris hooking up. you both decided that it was for the best after a drunken mistake led to surprisingly amazing sex. so after that one weird night, you came to an agreement of keeping this friends with benefits bullshit up without anyone knowing.
"yeah, well, i’m not here to talk, and i think we both know that.” you fire back, your voice sharp and clipped. you glare at him, daring him to push, to ruin the one thing that’s making you feel anything other than pathetic.
chris stares at you for a long moment, his jaw tight. he sees the cracks in your mask, the way your hands are shaking where they rest on his shoulders, but he doesn't call you on it. he exhales a long breath through his nose and lets it drop, for now. his hands soften on your waist, no longer restraining you but guiding you.
"alright." he mutters, his voice low. he starts to move you again, setting a pace that is slower than yours, more deliberate. "just… ease up a bit, yeah?"
you try to follow his lead, but the tension doesn’t ease. your breath comes in ragged gasps, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. you move mechanically, up and down, the friction of his cock dragging against your inner walls sending sparks of pleasure that you can’t fully enjoy. the silence between you is heavy, loaded with the words you aren’t saying.
but eventually, the composure cracks. it’s not a dramatic sob, but a physical collapse. your arms give out, and you fall forward, your chest pressing against his. you bury your face in the crook of his neck, your breathing harsh and uneven against his skin. you aren't crying, not yet, but your expression is a mask of frustration and pain, your brow furrowed, your teeth gritted.
chris doesn’t push for answers. he just wraps his arms around you, one hand splayed across your back, the other cradling the back of your head. he holds you together while you feel like you’re falling apart. he shifts his hips, grinding into you slowly, changing the angle so that he hits that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
"you’re too much in your head." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your ear. his voice is steady, a lifeline in the chaos of your mind. "i dunno what the fuck’s goin’ on, but lemme help."
you close your eyes tight, shutting out the world. you focus on the sensation of him. the heat of his body, the solid weight of him beneath you, the way he fills you up so completely. you let the rhythm take over, letting him dictate the pace. he rolls you both, pressing you into the mattress, his weight grounding you, pinning you down so you don't have to think, don't have to do anything but feel.
he thrusts into you, deep and steady, his breath hot against your neck. "just feel, yeah? let that shit go."
and you do, for a moment. you let the world narrow down to the friction, the slide of his cock in your pussy, the smell of sweat and sex, the sound of his breathing in your ear. the ache is still there, a dull throb behind your ribs, but it’s muted, buried under the overwhelming heat of his body against yours. you move with him, your bodies syncing up, searching for a release that you hope will wipe the slate clean, even if you know it won't last.
going thru it rn somebody hit me with a truck wtf (i lowk miss tumblr)
