Chris x Reader
AN: this is my first Chris fic!
Req: Chrisxreader ‘almost smut’.
Warnings: Alcohol use, s3xual references and themes.
Summary: You and Hayley Dunn, take a quick break in your office from a wild jackass cast party. You and Hayley share some ‘girl talk’ and a certain party boy overheard.
How ‘bout Monday?
“I’m kinda all hot and bothered after watching Pontius eye bang you all night.” Hayley said swinging circles in your office chair.
“What!” You snorted in return. Glancing quickly at the ajar door behind you to ensure no one was in the hall. Unable to tell if the flush in your cheeks was from embarrassment or the liquor. “Really?” You inquired.
Hayley laughed. “Yes, Y/N. You dumbass! Didn’t you see him get all worked up when you and Ryan were riding bikes down the halls?”
You recalled him leaving the party briefly at times but assumed like everyone that he’d gone for a cigarette or to rack up?
“Are you drunk enough to fuck him yet, or do I have to keep pumping you full of tequila?” She smiled, lighting her cigarette.
“I don’t need to be blackout to fuck him, not like it’s Dave.” You retorted.
“Ahh! Stop!” Hayley laughed so hard she fell out of her chair, it slid across the room, still spinning. You both laughed again, as she stood and chased it around the room.
“Seriously how fucked up would you have to be to fuck Dave England?” She said, sitting back down. Wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Absolute black out.” You said, between drunk chuckling. God Iove the man, but good lord he was not someone you could see yourself with.
“Johnny?” She asked, brow raised,
“Oh god damn sober.” You stated, plainly.
“‘Ugh, yeah. You like that babydoll?’” Hayley said in Johnny’s southern drawl.
“Pffff- HAHA!” You slapped your hand over your mouth.
“So, back to Chris? How drunk would you need to be?” She smirked as she asked the question.
“Uh. Probably like 3-4 shots deep. Just for confidence and to loosen up?” You divulged.
“Loosen up?” She inquired, her brow raised in slight confusion.
“You know. So he’d fit!” You said in a joking tone.
Hayley, who’s shit eating grin was looking at something behind and above you, practically danced out of her chair and toward the door. Before you could turn it yourself, your chair was whipped around. You brought your knees to your chest.
“So who’d fit sweetheart?” Chris held the chair by both handles and leaned down toward you. He slowly wheeled the chair back so it hit your desk. His gaze felt like it was on every inch of you, he took you all in.
You moved first, you pushed your lips against his, and he grabbed your face in his hands and deepened the kiss, you both so overcome with lust, knocked your teeth together. Unbothered you continued, he pulling away only for a second while he ripped your shirt over your head.
You came together again and Chris lifted you from your chair and into the wall behind your desk. Your hands raked through his hair and tugged as you moaned breathlessly.
Banging and whooping began from downstairs.
“Sorry!” Hayley called from under the floor.
Chris, laughed for a moment before continuing. He pressed himself against you, and your breath hitched. You pulled away, Chris stopping he cups your cheeks, and pulls himself backward from your hips, but remained supporting you against the wall.
You heard more banging from underneath you, whooping and cheers. “Get some Chris! Yeah!” You heard Ehren yell.
“Make sure it’s wrapped Y/N!” You heard Johnny yell before laughing.
“We don’t have to do this sweetheart?” Chris said, tipping your gaze toward him with his thumb. His eyes worried he had pushed you too far.
“I’m just not ready tonight.” Your gaze fell to the floor again. “I’m sorry.” You said, feeling deflated and slightly sour at yourself.
“Hey.” He found your gaze with a smile. “Please don’t be sorry. I didn’t pick the best place.” He said, looking around the room. The wild banging continued.
“What about we try again next week. We can go for dinner and then back to my apartment, for dessert?” You met his eyes again, they remained hungry.
“It’s a date.” He guided you to find your feet on the floor and handed you your shirt.
He grabbed the tequila from your desk in his fist and swung the bottle upright and chugged, streams of clear liquid making its way down his bare chest and abs, draining into his cum gutters. ‘Well, shit. They really do work like gutters.’ You thought to yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, he had stopped drinking and was watching you eye-fuck his abs. You smirked, you took the bottle from his hand, and got on your knees in front of him. Taken back all he could do was stand there giggling as you licked one long line from just where his cum gutters met his dick all the way up his neck and you kissed him hard on the mouth. Before turning on your heels and walking out of the room, you heard him jog to catch up, and he walked next to you, hand on your ass.
“How ‘bout Monday?”