Summary: you and Matt were having an intense make out session, when you were interrupted.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
You and Matt were tangled up together under the covers, his arms wrapped around you tightly watching a movie. Your legs were intertwined, your forehead resting on his chest, you could hear his heart beating fast.
You glanced up at Matt, lifting your head off his chest.
“I love you” you said, eyes full of love.
“I love you too, baby” he gently smiled back.
You leaned up to kiss him, slow and deliberate. Your hands brushing against his jaw to cup the side of his face.
You felt his one hand fall on the small of your back, pulling you in closer. He was kissing you like he had all the time in the world.
What started as soft quickly turned into something deeper, more urgent. Your tongues dancing together. Your bodies already knew what they wanted.
Matt broke the kiss just barely, breathless, his eyes locked on yours as he peeled off his shirt throwing it to the floor.
He then had his lips trailing along your jaw and down to the curve of your neck, kissing you there with a quiet urgency. He loved watching you react to every single touch.
A soft moan escaped your lips as his mouth found that one spot on your neck, the one that always made your breath hitch.
You moved Matt away gently, then climbed up, straddling him, placing your knees on either side of him.
You began to move your hips slowly, the gentle friction sending sparks through your body, as you leaned down capturing his lips in a deep hungry kiss.
His hand grabbed the back of your neck, gripping it firmly, and the other hand clenching your hips to help you grind harder and faster.
“Fuck- Matt” you whined.
A deep husky sound rumbled through his throat against your lips.
*knock knock knock*
You both pulled away from the kiss fast, and you pulled yourself off of him, heart pounding as you heard the urgent sound of knocking at Matt’s bedroom door.
“Yes?” Matt yelled across the room.
Chris’s voice came through, firm and demanding, “open up!”
“Aw fuck, sorry baby” Matt whispered in your ear, letting out a huff as he leaned down and grabbed his shirt off the ground, throwing it over his body.
Matt walked over to the door, and opened it slowly. Chris sticks his phone in Matt’s face.
“Look what Nick just sent me” Chris said laughing, showing Matt a meme.
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.
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
⤷ in which you wake up with a stuffy nose and chris takes care of you.
wc: 646
cw: pet names, mentions of snot/stuffy nose, fluffy fluff fluff!
you knew from the minute you woke up. your nose was clogged. all stuffy and hard to breathe out of.
your immune system was equivalent to one of a small victorian child so it was no surprise to you that you were sick once again.
you groan softly as the pounding in your head starts to grow stronger. this always happened when you were sick.
you rest your hands over your head as you roll onto your back to stare at the ceiling.
the overwhelming feeling of your stuffy nose made you forget that your boyfriend was laying beside you, still sound asleep. it wasn't until you felt the bed shift that you were reminded of his presence.
"mm baby what's wrong?" he mumbles. his voice still deep and wrapped in sleep in the way that makes your knees weak.
"chris you should go. i don't wanna get you sick." you immediately state as you turn away from him.
you feel him prop himself up on one elbow to look over at you. "what're you on about?"
you groan, hating having to repeat yourself. "i don't wanna get you sick!"
he chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder. "m'not worried about that, baby. pretty sure whatever germs you got, you already gave me last night."
you don't have to look at him to know he's smirking. "chris i'm being serious."
"so am i." he replies as he carefully removes your arms from your face. "wanna see your pretty face."
you roll your eyes, tilting your head to look over at him. he looks just as handsome as ever. his eyes are hazy in the way they always are when he first wakes up, hair a little messy from sleep and other things.
"better?" you ask.
"not quite, i still wanna kiss." he leans closer trying to reach your lips.
you pull away slowly. "chrisssss no. i don't feel good, really." your voice comes out shaky like you're holding back tears, which you were.
you always got real emotional when you were sick, you're not sure why.
"baby... what hurts? what d'ya need?" his expression was full of concern. he brought his hand up to wipe your eyes gently as he waited for you to respond.
"my head and my nose is stuffy... and i just really want some honey chamomile tea." chris nods before pressing another kiss to your forehead this time.
"alright... i'll go get your head wrap, some tea, and some medicine. you just rest, i got it." he whispers as he moves to stand up from the bed and get the things he listed.
you hum in acknowledgment, letting your eyes close while you wait for him to return.
before you know it, he was back by your side with a tray of wellness items. "here baby... put this on your head." he spoke softly, helping you sit up.
he props a pillow between you and the headboard so you can sit more comfortably. once you look comfortable enough he reaches for the head wrap to place it on your head.
the coolness immediately works to soothe the pressure beating on your forehead.
"thank you, baby." you reach over to grab your tea chris had brought you, taking a few sips and setting it back down. he grabs the medicine for you to take holding it out to you.
"mhm... can i get you anything else?" you shake your head softly.
"if you don't care about getting sick will you just come lay with me?" chris laughs softly before making his way to the other side of the bed, dropping back to his previous spot beside you.
"whatever you want baby." you tuck yourself into his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his breathing as you start to drift back off to sleep.
"i got you... always got you."
ryss yaps: just something small that's been sitting in my drafts, not proofread... comment here or on this post to be added to the taglist! please specify which taglist you'd like to be added to in your comment! as always, any and all interaction is greatly appreciated!!
all dividers by: @/cursed-carmine & @/chrisssiren🤍
the soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the curtains of the living room. it was your birthday, but the day had felt quiet, intimate—exactly how you liked it. chris had been acting loving all day, his eyes following you with a warmth that made your heart skip.
when he finally handed you the box, wrapped in paper with a silk ribbon, your breath hitched. you pulled the ribbon, and the lid fell away to reveal a beautiful dark red dress made of silk.
“chris… it’s so pretty,” you whispered, your fingers grazing the cool, expensive fabric..
“i saw it and immediately thought of you,” he said, his voice low and steady. he was leaning against the doorframe, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching you with an expression that was both tender and expectant. “go on. i want to see it on you.”
in the bedroom, the silk felt cool on your skin. it was an off-the-shoulder design, hugging your curves perfectly, flowing down into a floor-length skirt that pooled around your feet. when you looked in the mirror, you felt pretty. the dark red contrasted beautifully with your skin.
you stepped back into the living room, the fabric rustling softly with every movement. chris went completely still. his gaze started at your hem and traveled upward, lingering on the line of your collarbones and the way the dress bared your shoulders.
“wow,” he breathed out, the word caught in his throat. he looked as though he’d forgotten how to breathe. “you… you look absolutely beautiful.”
a shy smile tugged at your lips. “you really like it?”
“like it?” he let out a soft, huffed laugh, finally pushing off the doorframe. he walked toward you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. when he reached you, he didn't hesitate. his large, warm hands settled firmly on your hips, the heat of his palms seeping through the silk. “i don’t think i have the words for how you look right now.”
the air between you grew thick with tension. his eyes were gentle, filled with the adoration he always held for you, but beneath that was a passion that made your pulse race.
“i have one more gift for you,” he whispered, leaning down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. the vibration of his voice sent a violent shiver down your spine.
he led you back toward the bedroom, his hand sliding down to lace his fingers with yours. before you knew it, the beautiful dress was a memory. you were bare beneath him on our bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the burning heat of his skin as he hovered over you.
chris treated you like you were something precious, like a doll. he began to kiss you, not with the urgency of a man in a rush, but with the deliberate pace of someone savoring every second. his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the sensitive spot on your neck.
“so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin. his hands were everywhere, mapping your body as if he were trying to memorize you.
he moved lower, his kisses trailing down your chest to your stomach. you arched your back instinctively, your fingers tangling in his hair. he looked up at you, his face flushed, his eyes dark with a hunger that was entirely focused on you.
“come on, spread your legs for me, pretty girl,” he urged, his voice a gravelly command that you had no desire to ignore.
you obeyed, the vulnerability of the position making your breath come in short, jagged gasps. he leaned in, his thumbs tracing the insides of your thighs. “gonna make my birthday girl very happy,” he whispered.
he began to move his fingers with agonizing slowness, circling your sensitive clit. you let out a long, shaky breath, your head falling back against the pillows. he watched your face, catching every flicker of pleasure, every sound.
“ready, baby?” he asked softly.
you could only nod, your voice lost to the sensation of him. when he finally slid a finger inside, a soft whimper escaped you. then came another, stretching you, filling you with a rhythmic friction that pushed you toward the edge. you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you—the sound of his breathing, the scent of his skin, and the overwhelming waves of heat radiating from where you felt his fingers.
the climax hit you like a sudden storm, leaving you trembling and breathless. but he wasn't finished.
before you could even catch your breath, you felt the solid weight of him between your legs. your walls tightened around him when he started moving and he felt it because of the sound he made. the sound—a low, guttural growl of approval sent a fresh jolt of electricity through you.
“so pretty…” he whispered with a whimper. he was moving with a desperate, beautiful intensity now, his forehead pressed against yours as he reached his own release.
then the room was quiet. chris lay on top of you, heavy and warm. his skin was wet with sweat, and his heart was beating fast. he put his head on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.
after a long moment, he shifted, rolling to his side but keeping you tucked firmly against him. he pulled a blanket over both of you, shielding you from the cooling air of the room. he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your damp forehead, his touch as light as a feather.
“happy birthday baby,” he whispered softly. he kissed you and held you tight until you both fell asleep.
when your personal trainer can bench press your body weight
*this isn’t written to provoke insecurity. YOUR BODY IS BEAUTIFUL.*
“you have one more in you, c’mon.” he beckoned you on. bench presses were your worst nightmare, but Chris insisted you give them a try.
you shook your head, discouraged by the burning pain in your triceps. Chris’ hands stayed remained crossed over his chest, not willing to lift the weight back onto the stand until you hit one more press.
“take a deep breath, yeah?” you nodded, inhaling before you used all of your force to lift the bar away from your body. his veiny fingers wrapped around the cold metal, lifting it onto the rack.
you sunk into the cushion beneath you, sweat coursing down your face. “that’s my girl.” he grinned, grabbing your bottle and making his way around to stand next to you.
your eyes opened slowly, brows now relaxing, to be met with the cocky expression on his face under bright ceiling lights. “nice job.”
you scoffed, pulling yourself up. and grabbing your water out of his hand. after a couple sips, you stood up. too quick. almost stumbling forward as your vision became static, he steadied you by the waist.
“eeasy… you good?”
“yeah, fine.” you sighed, wiping your forehead with the back of your shaky hand. when Chris was sure you were okay to stand, he removed his hand.
“you got me lifting all these weights, Sturniolo. makes me wonder if you can lift.” you teased, head tilting.
“you just asking or you want proof?” his face neared yours, brows furrowing with amusement.
“what do you think, coach?”
“challenge accepted.”
one by one, Chris placed weights onto the barbell. you counted as he did, noticing he was attempting to bench your body weight.
“good luck.” you chuckled.
“yeah yeah.”
it took almost no effort for Chris to bench. his hair fell before his eyes, his tongue slightly out between parted lips, concentration riddled in his features.
he raised and lowered the weight a couple of times, eventually placing it back down on the rack. you stood at the foot of the bench, handing him your drink when he sat up.
he whispered a thank you, slightly breathless. your nails raked the fake mess of loose strands back. and in that moment when he stared up at your face, like a puppy that just found his owner, your heart beat a little faster.
yeah, cardio could wait till later.
ahhh it’s been a long while sturn tumblr. sorry to have left you guys behind for such a prolonged time but i’m back a little bit. and i’m saying hi to all of the baddies i’ve missed. lowkey love inbox hopping.
cw: PURE SMUTTTT, panty play? temperature play, rough sex, munchy, clit stimulation, slight size kink, degrading if you put your glasses on, dom!chris, but hint of subby!chris at the end
chris masterlist ○ main masterlist
“..fuck baby, y’got all pretty f’me?”
Ever since you saw Chris in that chain, you were feral.
The backwards cap, the all black outfit, the fluff of his hair—and that goddamn chain? Oh it had you whimpering and wet on site.
“Such cute panties, it's a shame I'm about to ruin them.” Chris taunts, before swiftly tugging them down your legs.
“Fuck—Chris..” You whine, hips bucking into the cold air that hit your now exposed skin.
“So wet..” Chris groans, “guess I should wear this more often.” he grunts.
His fingers swirl around your clit, jabbing through your cunt in and out like he was finishing the job.
That pleasure didn’t last long though. He removes the digits, plunging them into your mouth to suck clean.
You only obey him, the taste of your own slick on your tongue as you clean his fingers off for him. The filthy actions only has your stomach pooling warmer—feining for more of him.
Chris doesn't even ask you to turn around, instead manhandling you into a face down, ass up position.
“Hold yourself up like that ma, can ya’ do that f’me?” he grunts, hastily taking out his cock and dragging it through your puffy folds.
“nngh—yes.. do anything..” You breathe, letting out a cry when you feel his shaft spear through your entrance.
The room fills with obsence squelches, the slapping of skin echoing through the walls as he fucks into you relentlessly.
Your moans are even louder though, almost loud enough to cover up every other sign while being the most obvious at the same time. Normally he wouldn't mind—but tonight, he has a filthy, filthy plan in play.
“Can’t even shut the fuck up, too dumb on my big cock hm? You love it, love screaming while I fuck you.” Chris spits, slowing his thrusts to grab the pink panties he kept with him for this very moment.
He yanks your head up by your hair, causing your back to arch and eliciting a loud moan. He stuffs the panties in your mouth—effectively silencing you in the dirtiest way.
“Thats what i thought.. now be a quiet little fuck toy for me, yeah? Toys aren't supposed to speak.”
You can taste the saltiness of your leaked arousal on the fabric, loud moans becoming muffled through the surprisingly sound proof material.
Chris only quickens his thrusts as he feels you tighten around him, knowing you and him both are just seconds away from cumming.
“Fuck.. cumming—” Chris groans, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips jerk into you, mixing his hot seed with your own sweet cum.
He pulls out of you, but only to turn you around, effectively lying you flat on your back. He pulls your now drooly panties out of your mouth, tossing them onto the floor as he captures your lips in a searing kiss.
The kiss is rough, his teeth grazing your lip and latching onto it, sucking it into his own mouth before tangling his tongue with yours.
“Need—need’a taste you..” He breathes out, quickly slotting his head between your legs and pulling your cunt to his watery mouth—folds still sloppy with your mixed essence.
He immediately digs in, the sight of him eating not only yours, but his own cum has your head spinning, your moans loud and free now that your voice isn't restrained.
The sound of your vocal pleasure pushes Chris further, jerking you up and slinging your legs onto his shoulder to get deeper, and the deer charm of his new fresh love necklace—the one you've been absolutely wrecked for—grazes your clit.
You jolt, letting out a loud whine at the feeling of the cold metal. “Oh baby,” Chris grins mischievously.
“You liked that? Felt good on ya pussy, hm?”
Chris yanks his necklace off, holding it by the deer charm that just caused you to jump in pleasure.
“m’gonna make it feel way better, baby.” he hums, taking the charm and pressing it against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You gasp, hips once again jerking at the cold sensation. “Chris..” You whine, squirming for his touch.
“need more, hm? Gonna give you a lot more,” Chris grunts out, pulling your pussy flush to his face again as he resumes his earlier ministrations, occasionally stopping to press the cold charm against you.
You're so, so sensitive—the say he continues to edge you, stopping the flicks of his tongue every time he feels your hole clench around the muscle, instead replacing it with the cold metal deer.
You were starting to hate the necklace after all of this teasing—but at the same time, you couldn't get enough.
“Aw, baby, you gonna cum hm? You think I should let you this time?” He coos against your folds, moving his head to look at you.
You immediately push his head down, all inhibitions gone and replaced with one need; release.
“Fuck—don’t stop Chris.. don’t you dare stop this time.” You order, keeping his head down against your folds.
Chris doesn't fight the sudden shift in power, instead groaning loudly at the way you take charge. He doubles his efforts, flicking and swirling his tongue at two times the spred and pressure he was at before.
Pretty soon, you were crying out in pleasure, screaming his name as the band in your tummy snapped and you gushed all over his tongue.
You finally release his head, letting him come up and rest his chin on your stomach.
“Fuck baby.. that was amazing, you're amazing.” Chris breathes, looking at you with the most fucked out eyes, like he was the one getting off.
And maybe he did, because when you drag your gaze to his thighs, the sight of his sticky cum covering them and part of the bed tells you everything you need to know.
Chris looks down sheepishly, before turning his gaze back up and murmuring a small “you can't blame me, you taste too good and your reactions are too sexy.”
You laugh at his words, pulling him close to your chest. “Guess we both made a mess, then.”
“Yeah, we did.”
☆ soph's notes: was that sexy or was that SEXY? best chris smut I've written by far. also feel free to use these panty dividers with credits! I haven't seen any others on here but there may be others I'm not aware of
