FANTASIZE part 2
bsfsbrother!chris stoner!chris
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 (coming soon)
this series contains ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ smut w plot, use of alcohol and drugs, toxicity, softdom!chris, softsub!reader, fingering, light choking, somewhat dry humping, p n v, clit stimulation, praise, degradation, kind of public, mutual masterbation, use of pet names, use of handcuffs (lmk if i missed anything)
word count ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 4.1k
note: this takes place in america, so when “underaged drinking” is mentioned, it’s because the characters are under 21, not under 18.
inspo 𐙚
⌗ lowercase intended
that night, like every other night, your mind ran amuck. it spiraled with ideas as you layed, curled in your sheets. it was times like these that you wished you lived on campus. maybe the sound of someone living next to you would give you something to focus on. but instead you had an apartment, way too spacious for just yourself. your closest neighbor was an old woman, and even she was doors down. you weren’t sure why no one wanted to live at the end of the hall like you. there were a few empty apartments surrounding yours, and in your few months of living here you had tried to convince claire to move into one of them. it was unsuccessful. of course, they were a common topic you imagined about. were they haunted by some ancient entity? were they infested with termites? you tried not to focus too much on either of those, because you did want to be able to actually fall asleep at some point.
but this specific night, you couldn’t think of anything besides chris. did you imagine that entire scenario? or did it really happen, and you were reading too much into it? you spent so many of your teenage years fantasizing about conversations, interactions, and a potential relationship with chris. you imagined what you would say to him if he ever acknowledged you, how cool you would play it. but when he actually did, you played it far from cool. there was no batting of your eyelashes or curling of your hair strand. you melted at his gaze, and stuttered at his words. it was impossible to live out the unspeakable fantasies you had of him if you couldn’t even hold eye contact. and you knew that. you promised yourself that if you ever got the chance to see him again, you would make the most of it. maybe the flirting you would do would be humiliating, but at least you could say you tried.
and a few days later you got that chance.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
you flopped on your comforter, stomach down to the bed. your groan of frustration was muffled into the satin pillows.
“stop sulking.” claire objected, the sound of hangers clinking coming from your closet where she stood.
you flipped over onto your back, arms crossed. “you’ve seen it in there. i have nothing.”
“nothing?” claire questioned mockingly as she motioned to the clothes strewn across your bedroom.
“you know what i mean.”
“no, i think you have plenty. you just need to go wild. wear something sexy.” she pled.
“i’m always dressing sexy.”
she looked you up and down slowly, her eyes drawing over your oversized t-shirt and stained pajama pants. “i think we have different ideas of sexy.”
you threw a pillow in her direction.
she continued rifling through your closet as she spoke. “i just want to see you putting yourself out there. like literally when’s the last time you got laid?”
“what makes you think im not getting laid?”
she must’ve taken that as a rhetorical question, because she carried on speaking. “having your birthday on halloween is such a cheat code. you get to dress up as whatever you want and everyone’s down to party.”
“im not even sure i want a party.” you grumbled.
she didn’t even bother to look up from what she was doing when she responded “the party is happening.”
you would've thought a tragedy happened by the way claire then gasped. you watched as she pulled out an outfit you forgot existed, her mouth hanging open at the sight. it was practically lingerie, a black and lace dress with cutouts in all the right places.
she wiggled the hanger. “this one.”
you shook your head firmly. “claire. no.”
next thing you knew it was dark, your apartment illuminated by neon LEDS. you and claire had spent the previous few hours filling your kitchen with various types of alcohol, and covering your home head to toe in halloween decoration. there were red streamers hanging from the top of each doorway, coloured solo cups stacked on pop-up tables, and music reverberating from every direction. as much as you would’ve originally preferred to spend your birthday differently, you had to admit that the excitement of everyone around you was contagious. people had begun indulging in the refreshments some time ago, and it was evident. the classic college halloween party was in full effect—singles making out in corners, people throwing up off your balcony, a line to the bathroom forming. you had to admit you’d always wanted to go to a themed party like this—maybe one not in your own house—but nonetheless it was shaping up to be great.
you reached behind a couple doing a flawless demonstration of PDA to grab a plastic cup from the counter. after bumping into a multitude of other people you made it to the kitchen island, and began pouring yourself a drink. it ended up being mostly apple juice, but you prided yourself in even adding alcohol at all. the last thing you needed was to make more of a fool of yourself. you were already drawing an unreasonable amount of attention with your outfit. the little lacey dress and black cat ears was a pathetic excuse of a halloween costume. you had to admit claire was right though, you did look positively sexy. that fact didn’t make you any less self conscious of all the eyes clinging to you.
abruptly, two hands fell onto your shoulders from behind. you spun around and looked up to see the culprit. for a second your heart skipped a beat, but when you realized it wasn’t who you thought it was, you impulsively saddened your demeanour.
matt lowered his hands off your shoulders. “damn, i was expecting a warmer welcome.”
you smiled and hugged him under his arms. “sorry, i thought you were someone else.”
“what, you thought i was chris or something?” he joked.
you avoided his eye contact.
“shit. what is it with you guys lately.” his expression morphed in a way that made him seem almost annoyed.
“what do you mean?”
“i mention his name and you act all… odd. got that same look as he did when i mentioned you to him the other day.”
your heart dropped to your ankles. “you talked to chris about me?”
matt shrugged. “i tried. he shut that one down super quick.”
he waited a moment for a reply before speaking again. “is there something going on between you two?”
you were one who suffered from extreme analysis paralysis, always zoning out to think about something. but at matt's words, no response was even in the realm of your mind.
“no there’s not. trust me.” you said finally. and your words were the truth. there was nothing going on. but if what matt was saying was true, why did chris have any sort of reaction to your name? was there something going on?
his brow ridge raised in doubt. “if there is, i don’t like it. he won’t treat you right, y/n, keep that in mind.” he spoke with assurance, not jealously. his eyes were still and holding, as if he was trying to tell you that you were making the worst mistake of your life.
a part of you thanked him, and was greatful he was looking out for you. but the majority of you was angry. why did he think that you couldn’t figure things out on your own? why did everyone think you were some innocent baby?
“i don’t need you to warn me about stupid shit like that, matt. go find someone else to talk down to.” your words came off harsher, and cut deeper than you meant them to, leaving your friend defeated as you turned your back to him.
you left the kitchen, dodging between the crowd to make it to your living room. there was a game of cup pong restricting you from getting to your couch, so you stood in a empty spot next to the wall. you gripped your cup with both hands, and immersed yourself in thought.
why did everyone treat you like you couldn’t make decisions for your own? matt saying you were ‘making a bad choice’, chris saying you couldn’t smoke, and even claire picking your outfit for you.
you heard a voice say your name, but the music muddled any sense of direction you had. whirling your body around in a circle, your eyes immediately landed on chris. he was scanning your body meticulously, like he didn’t want to miss a single part of your sultry costume. you felt the now familiar hotness creep up to your cheeks, and your hold on the cup became shaky. you took the opportunity to look at his outfit. he was dressed in a prisoner uniform, and it was zipped down with a black wifebeater underneath. a pair of handcuffs dangled off one of his wrists. you couldn’t explain the reaction the uniform gave to you, but you felt heat pooling at your core as he stepped closer.
chris closed the little distance you had between the two of you, leaning down to your face. he swept your hair back, his lips brushing up the skin of your neck as he made it to your ear. “quite the outfit.” he said, the vibration of his voice in your ear causing your whole body to go numb. he drew his face away, keeping eye contact while he did so. "happy birthday." he added.
“i.. um.. didn’t know you were coming.” you spoke, mustering up the most confidence you could.
“i couldn’t miss free alcohol.” he smirked.
“you don’t even have a cup.” you said, suddenly becoming more aware of the drink you held.
“i’m surprised you’re drinking.”
“why wouldn’t i be?”
“you just…” he scanned down your figure again. “don’t seem like the type.”
you scowled. “god why does everyone think i’m so innocent!”
in your frustration, you didn’t notice him reaching at your cup. you powerlessly gave it up as he grasped it and brought it to his lips, drinking.
“that is like 99% juice, kid.” he laughed, as if he was proving you right about something.
at first you looked off to your side, embarrassed. but soon you remembered the promise you made to yourself, to actually make a conscious effort with chris. but you had to admit you needed some liquid courage to get the job done.
“then let’s get some real drinks.” you said, and retreated back to the kitchen, hopeful that he would follow you. you had to adjust the fabric so it didn’t come up too high on your ass as you walked.
thankfully, he tailgated you until you both ended up back in the kitchen. you wasted no time pouring yourself a shot and throwing it back into your throat. the second one you took chris joined you, so you were swallowing the liquor at the same time.
a few minutes go by until confidence was seeping through you. you were sitting on the counter, watching your feet dangle off the ground. chris was across the kitchen, talking to some guy you barely recognized. something possessed you to break up their conversation and call out chris’s name. he turned towards you when you did, and you gestured for him to come over. you silently thanked the alcohol in your system as he made his way to you.
“chriiiiis.” you sung, outstretching your hands towards him.
he tilted his head down at you, now close enough to be almost touching your knees as you sat. “you drunk?”
“mmm a little.” you brushed your fingertips along either of his orange sleeves. “are you?”
he didn’t reciprocate any sort of affection, but also didn’t move away from your touch. “yeah. but clearly not as much as you.”
you parted your legs to either side of chris’s torso, silently inviting him to step closer. you watched as what seemed like hesitation crept over him. he inhaled sharply before taking a half step forward.
you had to look almost straight up to meet eyes with him before speaking. “heyyy.” you smiled with your words, a newfound sense of confidence in you.
“hi y/n.”
a faint scent of mint, sweet booze, and his usual cologne enveloped him, the smell intoxicating. alas, no alcohol was enough to completely rid yourself of your nerves. having him this close to you was like an ice bath, sobering you irritatingly.
“how are you liking the party?” you asked, trying to keep your cool as his eyes flicked to your lips.
“it’s interesting being in your house.” he was inching closer now, close enough that you could feel the thin fabric of your panties wetting.
“…yeah? why’s that?” nervousness snuck in your voice. you wished you could close your thighs, to hide the evidence of your arousal.
“it’s like being in someone’s mind, y’know?”
“oh.” you became more self aware of the contents of your apartment.
“is that bad? me being in your mind?” he asked, his arms crossed.
“um.. maybe?”
“what’s in there that you don’t want me to know about?”
your breath hitched as he sealed the distance between you two, his waist directly in between your legs. he adjusted so you could feel the soft pressure of a growing hardness against your clothed clit. your mouth fell just slightly agape at the sensation. he noticed your reaction, a coy look flaunting on his face. the stimulation seemed to affect him as well, because his jaw clenched as he looked down at you.
"i asked you a question." his head classically tilted as he waited for a response.
"there's nothing bad.. in my mind."
he clicked his tongue against his teeth. "see, i don't think that's quite the truth, now is it?"
you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to think of anything besides the feeling between your thighs. if chris knew the type of things you were thinking about him, the type of things you had always thought about him, he would never look at you the same.
his arms uncrossed and he gingerly placed both hands on either one of your thighs, still maintaining the mutual gaze. all the fantasies you had obsessed over for years came to the forefront of your mind, any sense of confidence washing away. his thumb rubbed softly over your bare thigh, catalyzing a wave of shivers up your body. he watched as goosebumps appeared across your skin from his touch. despite the bustling environment, the silence between you two felt thick enough to lean against.
"chris.. what are you doing?" you muttered, watching his fingers inch towards your inner thigh.
"is this not okay?"
"no no it's—" you were interrupted by his touch reaching the lace of your panties, where your bodies met.
"it's what?"
"it's okay."
he stopped his hand from moving. "tell me what you want. i need to hear you say it."
"chris… please.." you layered your hand on his, as if to guide it where you needed.
his touch was unmoving. "say it."
"i need you to touch me, please."
you could feel chris's cock twitch at the sound of you begging. he ran his tongue over his bottom lip like he was facing some sort of inner dilemma. you could feel as his bulge grew against you, his hand still placed just at your sheer underwear. the urge you had to pull him impossibly closer overwhelmed you. just as you were about to give in, about to put your hands on parts of him you'd always wanted to touch, the music that encased the apartment cut out and was replaced by a deafening yell.
"cops!"
people began hastening in all directions, the sound of clinking alcohol bottles accompanying shouting as everyone tried to leave. you scambered off the counter and to a window, to see that the person was right. police officers were gathering at the bottom of your building, holding flashlights and looking straight through the glass at you. chris gripped your wrist, pulling you away from the window.
"come on." somehow, his voice was still collected as he spoke.
"its my house! i can’t leave!" you insisted, trying to pull yourself from his grasp.
the effort was useless. you and chris followed the crowd out the front door and rushed down the set of stairs. the sound of what you assumed to be officers filing in the lobby was close, and your heart thumped at the riskiness of the path you two were taking. chris was in front of you, his hand still clasped on your wrist. you could've sworn he was smiling, like he was enjoying this. the group of people you had escaped with all scattered as soon as you made it outside, and you scanned the street for claire. chris didn't allow you much time to stand still, and continued taking your arm. you ran for a minute more, until he pulled your body to the side, into a small space between two shops. the pocket was just big enough for you to stand across from eachother without touching. he finally let go of you, and you pressed your back against the chilled stone. the road was silent, the low hum of a street lamp being one of the only things breaking the stillness. you could also hear the faint dripping of water down a rainpipe, and focused on it rather than on the butterflies in your stomach. both of your exhausted pants melted together, and your face was right at his chest as it raised and fell. you looked up at him, smiling without realizing it.
"god i need a cigarette." he spoke finally, returning your gaze.
a cigarette? while you were still focused on the feeling of him against you in the kitchen, he was craving a cigarette?
you just laughed breathily. "yeah."
the side of his lip curled up. "what do you need?"
suddenly you were hyper aware of the nonexistent space between the two of you. his hands were kept to themselves, but that didn't help your imagination from running wild. you shook some sense back into your mind and responded.
" i need to be back in my house."
"yeah? being arrested for underaged drinking?"
you diverted your eyes from his.
"you should be thanking me for dragging you away from the place." he brushed his fingers along your bare arm, causing goosebumps to once again rise on your skin. you tried not to let it distract you.
"thanking you? i can make decisions about what i wanna do by myself." you folded your arms, which subsequently caused your boobs to press up to your chest.
chris noticed this, and that same inner-dilemma look played on his face.
"so what do you want to do right now?" he asked.
"ummm."
"oh come on" he cooed, "i thought you could make decisions by yourself."
his voice was enough to make you melt away right then and there. you accidentally glimpsed at his lips, to which he smirked again. he moved his hand from your arm to graze the thin chain of a necklace on your collarbone. you inhale sharply the moment his fingers brush your sensitive skin. his eyes trailed down your curves, and the expression that displayed on his face made it seem like he was consciously holding himself back. his hand moved up, half on your neck and half on your jawline. he leaned in carefully, giving you more than enough time to reject the advance. his face tilted and his lips stopped just before yours, as he rested his second hand on the curve of your waist. your stomach was twisted in knots as your fantasy slowly became reality. you heeled slightly to be almost at your tiptoes, in an attempt to prompt the kiss. but he retreated just enough that your lips continued to be apart.
"say you want it."
you replied immediatly. "i want it. you."
he tilted his head sideways, like he was waiting for something more.
"please."
as soon as the words left your mouth, chris sealed the kiss.
he was gentle at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. but after you broke apart, it was obvious that he had no intention of stopping. he collided with you again, his hand lowering to form a loose grip around your neck. you leaned against eachother, supporting one another up as your hand planted on his chest. you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to tangle with yours. you couldn't help but let a whimper fall out of your mouth into the kiss, and his reaction was tightening the grip on your throat. he held you firmly against him, in such a way that signified that he was both in charge, and still holding back.
you became hyper aware of his one hands movements when it made it to the bottom hem of your dress. he broke your lips apart to soundlessly ask permission. your nod was all the approval he needed before he rode your dress up to your hips, revealing your red laced panties.
"fuck." he murmured, and took his fingers to trace down your clothed slit. "you're so fucking wet."
your face flushed in embarrassment, and you clamped your thighs together. "sorry.."
he furrowed his brows. "why the fuck would you be sorry? open your legs for me."
you obeyed, spreading your legs open just enough that his fingers could retreat back to where you wanted them most. he layed a small slap on your pussy through your underwear, causing you to gasp into his wife beater. he played with the top lace of the fabric before sliding his hand underneath, watching your reaction fixedly. he moved his fingers down you, parting your folds to gather the wetness that was slowly falling from you. he used it to bring it expertly to your clit, circling the moisture around your aching bud. he moved slow, teasing you painfully. your mouth fell open, and you layed your forehead on his chest. he immediately stopped and used his grip on your neck to make you look up at him.
"look at me while i make you feel good." he demanded, leaving no room for retort.
you nodded helplessly, and, desperate for more friction, moved your hips against chris's fingers. he seemed amused, and allowed it, sinking one finger into your sopping pussy. you used the loophole instantly, and moved your body to grind on his finger.
"good girl. so fucking tight, shit." he breathed, curling up to meet your g-spot.
you released your first moan, and chris took full advantage of knowing the spot that made you make such an intoxicating noise. he stretched your pussy to add a second finger, and wasted no time before curling that one too. your knees fell weak, and your brows curved upwards in pleasure. he used his thumb to move up and down your clit as he worked his fingers inside of you. the added stimulation caused a turn in your lower stomach. you didn't know how much longer you would last if he continued like this.
while his one hand worked on your pussy, the other lowered from your neck to the fabric that covered your bust. he cupped his hand underneath both your bra and the dress to release one of your boobs.
"god you have perfect tits." he latched his lips over your hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud.
"holy fuck chris i'm close." you gasped, hand in his hair as he continued to suck you.
he took this as a challenge, and added more pressure to your clit. he palmed your tit, pinching your nipple in between two fingers. your orgasm curled in you, and the feeling of your cunt around his fingers was growing to be too much. your clit was swollen and aching, your face was blushed and beginning to sweat, and the way chris looked in the darkness of the alley tipped you over the edge. as your walls clenched around him, your climax ripped through you. not alleviating his pace, he continued to fuck you with his fingers as you rode out your high.
"you look so fucking sexy cumming on my fingers."
a/n ☕️: if u saw the typo when i first posted this, no you didn’t.
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