Don't Call Me That
Summary: In which Chris pushes one too many buttons and learns very quickly who's really in charge. (Anti-Mommy kink)
Word Count: 2.4k
CW: 🔞Explicit Sexual Content (Smut): dom/sub dynamics, sub!Chris, dom!reader (f reader), oral sex (m receiving), edging, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, riding, aftercare, fluff at the end (minimal), if I forgot anything please let me know! If under 18, I am not responsible for the media you consume.
@throatgoat4u gave me this idea. This Post specifically. I just ran with it.
The fans of the laptop was the only thing filling the peace of the room, except for the insistent tap-tap-tap of Chris’s foot against the mattress. He was in one of those moods—restless, vocal, and set on pushing every single one of your buttons until he found the one that made you snap.
You were trying to focus on your laptop, the light of your lamp casting deep shadows throughout the room. Chris was lying next to you, watching you with a lopsided, challenging grin.
"You’re being really quiet tonight," he poked, his voice changing into that forced innocence he used when he was looking for trouble. "Usually you have so much to say."
You didn't look up. "Chris, I don’t have time. Behave yourself."
He let out a light-hearted laugh, rolling onto his stomach to get closer to your side. He rested his chin on your thigh, looking up at you through his eyelashes. The mischief within his eyes was wild, dancing in the soft light.
"Make me," he challenged. Then, his grin widened into something really bratty. "Please, mommy? Make me behave."
The clicking of the keyboard stopped instantly.
It seemed like everything just stopped. You didn't move for a long beat, letting the silence fall upon him like a dense weight. When you finally turned your head to look down at him, your expression was unreadable—cold, steady, and entirely unamused.
The grin on Chris’s face slowly fell. He’d expected a laugh, or maybe a playful shove. He hadn't expected the silence to be so consuming.
"Don't," you said, your voice low with a warning. "Call me that again."
Chris gulped nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. "I—it was just a joke—"
"I’m not laughing." You snapped the laptop shut and set it on the nightstand with a definitive thud. “I’m your girlfriend, not your mother.”
You moved so fast he didn't have time to scramble back. In one fluid motion, you were on top of him, pinning his wrists to the pillows on either side of his head. The dominant advantage he usually held was gone; you were the one over him now, your shadow absorbing him.
"You want to play games, Chris? You want to see how far you can push me before I take control?" You leaned down, your lips hovering just inches from his. "Well, you found the line. And now, the game is over."
Chris’s breath stuttered, his chest rising and falling in shallow movements. The joking was gone, replaced by a wide-eyed sort of focus. He looked shocked, trapped under the pressure of your gaze and the sudden realization that he’d finally pushed you exactly where he secretly wanted you to be.
"From this point on," you whispered, your grip on his wrists tightening just enough to let him know you weren't letting go, "you don't speak. You don't move unless I tell you to move. And you definitely don't get to choose the names we use tonight."
You let one hand go, tracing a slow, agonizing line from his jaw down to the center of his chest, feeling his heart beating like a drum.
"Do you understand me?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off with a tense look.
"Don't speak," you reminded him, your voice falling to a dark, commanding purr. "Just nod."
For a moment, Chris just stared up at you — mouth tight, pride flickering behind his eyes like he was still deciding whether to fight it. Then, slowly, something in him gave way. He gave a single nod, hardly noticeable, his breath unsteady. The glaze crept into his eyes only then, like a tide finally coming in — reluctant, but inevitable.
"Good boy," you whispered, your hand sliding lower, hooking into the waistband of his shorts. "Now, let’s see just how quiet you can stay while I show you exactly who’s in charge."
You held his gaze as you slowly pushed his shorts down, unhurried. You smiled, it was the type of smile that made his breath catch all over again. You kissed his jaw softly, then let your hand travel down until your palm pressed against his cock through the thin fabric. "Seems someone likes being the submissive one for a change, hm?"
Chris whimpered — a small, helpless sound that pulled a low hum from your throat. “Does this feel good, baby?” you whispered, keeping the same slow, rubbing rhythm. “Maybe I should just... keep doing this. Until you’re begging.”
His eyes were hooded now, lips parted, soft pants slipping out with every motion of your hand. You held his gaze and squeezed his cock. “Tell me, Chris. Want me to keep going?” He shook his head desperately, hips bucking up into your touch, another broken whimper escaping before he could stop it.
You smirked, kissing down his body and pressing your lips just above the waistband of his boxers, barely a kiss, more of a tease. Then, slowly, you pushed them down. You stopped just short, the fabric pulled tight, hovering right above his cock. Close enough that the slightest movement would free him. You didn’t move.
“Tell me what you want,” you spoke softly against his skin as you kissed it. “Beg for it, sweet boy.”
The silence stretched. Then, “F-fuck, baby. I need— I need you to make me feel good. I’ll be good, I swear, just— please.” His voice cracked on the last word, eyes wide open and glassy, hips lifting, chasing friction you hadn’t given him yet.
You let the moment stay just a second longer. Just enough to feel him squirm, before you finally pulled the boxers down and freed him. A deep breath left him the moment the fabric was gone. You wrapped your hand around his cock slowly, starting with strokes so soft they were almost punishing.
Chris moaned, his hips rolling up on instinct, chasing more. You pressed a firm hand to his hip and pinned it down without a word, just a look. He stopped immediately.
“No,” you said quietly. Not harsh. Just final. “We do this my way. You wanted to play games, remember, baby?” You dragged your thumb slowly over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there. “Then we’re playing games.”
His whole body shivered. You kept the pace slow and relentless, watching every reaction pass across his face. Then you leaned up, cupped his jaw, and kissed him. Deep and unrushed, tongue and teeth, your bottom lip catching his in a way that made him groan into your mouth.
“Such a good fucking boy,” you breathed against his mouth. You pulled back just enough to look at him, flushed, undone, waiting. “Makes me want to taste you.” You held his gaze. “Would you like that?”
Chris nodded fast, a breathless whimper slipping out. “Please. I need it, I won’t call you that again. Just — fuck — please, [Y/N].”
You smiled against his skin and started working back down his body. A kiss here, a graze of teeth there. You paused at his hip and pressed your mouth to the soft skin, sucking until he moaned. There’d be a mark there tomorrow. You moved lower, mouthing at the inside of his thigh, and he let out a broken moan, his hand moving into your hair before he could stop himself.
You looked up slowly. “Hands,” you said. Just one word.
His fingers loosened immediately. He dropped his hand to his side, chest pounding, eyes dark and needy. The kind of look that made it very hard to keep your own composure. But you held it.
“Smart choice,” you spoke softly. “That deserves a reward.”
You dragged your tongue slowly up the underside of his shaft, then kissed the tip, soft and affectionate for a second. “Want me to, baby?”
He was staring at you, flushed and completely unraveled. He nodded gently. “Y-yes,” he breathed. “Please.”
You took him in slowly, what didn’t fit, you wrapped your hand around, stroking in time with your mouth until you found a pace that had him gasping. His hands found your hair, gathering it back as he watched you. “F-fuck, [Y/N],” he moaned softly. “Thank you — God —”
You looked up at him, holding eye contact as you took him deeper. The look on your face was so intentional and euphoric that Chris had to glance away before he lost it entirely. You moaned around him, and he groaned low in response. You quickened the pace; his grip tightened in your hair, whimpers spilling out between shallow breaths. “B-baby — fuck — you’re going to make me cum if you don’t stop.”
You gently slapped his hands away and pulled off him with a soft pop, a thread of precum and spit catching on your lip. He reached up with his thumb and wiped it away, his hand shaking lightly.
"Why..." He gulped hard. "Why did you stop? I was being good for you."
You smiled and stood to look at him. "Because I want to fuck you," you said firmly. "And remind you what it feels like to be completely out of control."
You climbed back on top of him and kissed him, letting him taste himself on your lips. He made a low, helpless sound in your mouth. Your tongues tangled together as you ground down slowly against him, his cock rubbing between your slick folds, and a soft moan escaped from you before you could stop it. “Fuck, Chris, I need you now.”
You grabbed his jaw, tilting his face up to yours. “No condom,” you said quietly. “Tonight you’re completely mine. Understood?”
He nodded fast, hips already lifting, chasing contact you hadn’t offered yet. You pressed a single finger to his hip — a warning. “Patience. Rush me, and I walk out of this room. Don’t test me on that.”
“Hands stay at your sides,” you said. “No touching. Not until I say so. Understand?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just let out a soft, shaky whimper, eyes roaming your face.
“Christopher.” Your voice dropped, quiet and commanding. “Do you understand?”
Something in him snapped into focus. “Yes,” he spoke quietly. “I — yes, baby. I understand.”
You looked at him for a long moment — flushed, chest heaving, hands flat against the sheets — and felt something quiet and certain settle in your chest. Then you leaned down and kissed him softly. “Good.”
You reached down and guided him to your entrance, then sank down slowly on his cock — feeling every inch as he stretched you open, breath catching in your throat. You didn’t rush it. When you finally settled fully onto him, you held still for a moment, just breathing.
“You good?”
Chris’s jaw was tight, face flushed deep, the effort of keeping still written all over him. He nodded once. “Y-yeah,” he managed, just above a whisper. “Fuck — you feel so good.” Like if he spoke any louder, the restraint would shatter. You smiled at that.
“You’re being so fucking good for me,” you murmured. “Maybe that earns you another reward. Let’s see if you can keep it up.”
You planted your hands on his chest and started to move — rolling your hips at first, finding the right angle, then lifting until his cock was almost out of you before dropping back down. Slow and purposeful. His breath froze every time you came back down. The sounds you pulled from each other were involuntary. You felt his hand jerk against the sheets and covered it with yours without breaking pace. “Not yet,” you said quietly.
Chris looked up at you with blown-out eyes. “Please,” he breathed. “I need to touch you, baby. This is hell.”
You held his gaze and kept moving. Completely in control. You could feel how wet you were getting, and from the way his breath caught, so could he. You leaned down slowly, lips touching the outside of his ear as you picked up the pace just slightly.
“This is my cock,” you whispered. “And no one else gets to have you like this. Remember that.”
He nodded, a moan breaking through before he could swallow it. “It’s yours,” he breathed. “Fuck — all yours, baby. Please, let me touch you.”
You took his hands and guided them to your chest.
His fingers found your nipples immediately — pinching, rolling, pulling sounds out of you that you hadn’t planned on making. The pace you’d set had shifted without you realizing, deeper and faster, wet and filthy sounds filling the room. “Oh god, Chris,” you moaned, not caring even slightly who heard. “Such a good fucking boy.”
Chris’s head tipped back. “Fuck,” he gritted out. “You feel so good — so wet — you’re gonna make me cum [Y/N].”
Your hand wrapped around his throat without thinking — light pressure, just enough. You smirked down at him. “Gonna cum?” you breathed. “Want to fill me up? Make it up to me for those little games you tried to play earlier?”
He groaned at the pressure of your fingers against his throat, eyes fluttering. The words came out wrecked, barely held together. “Please, baby. Want to cum in you so bad — let me make you feel good, please.”
You leaned down and kissed him — quick and soft. “Cum in me,” you said against his lips. “Show me who you belong to.” You squeezed his throat one last time.
Chris’s eyes shut tight, a broken string of whimpers and moans spilling out as his orgasm washed over. You felt him pulse inside you, deep and warm, and slowed your movements to ease him through it. When the last shudder left him, you stilled and settled against his chest. You smiled and pushed his hair back from his face.
“You ok?” you whispered, something calmer coming over you. “Was it too much?”
Chris found your eyes and smiled — completely blissed out. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmured. “Please do that more often.”
You laughed and kissed all over his face. “No promises. But maybe every once in a while.”
He smirked and stroked your cheek gently. You let the silence sit, warm and unhurried, his thumb moving against your skin. You were the one to break it. “If you ever call me 'Mommy' again, I will literally murder you. Gross.”
He burst out laughing. “Heard loud and clear, baby.”
You barely shifted before his arms were around you, lifting you up. You looked at him. He just smiled — soft, private, like it was only ever meant for you — and carried you to the shower without a word.
M yaps: TF DID I JUST WRITE AHH.. oh sub Chris how I love you.
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Tags: @mattsgirl23 , @courta13 , @violetxx2 , @pepsipoet , @conspiracy-ash , @ilovechristopherowensturniolo , @whore4chris
