saying "question mark?" and "however comma," out loud are game changers. punctuation on the go. and it's always the funniest thing that anyone around you has ever heard
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ---› smut ⋆ bsf!chris ⋆ friends to something ⋆ sexual tension ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ pet names ⋆ lots of teasing ⋆ chris is cocky and confident ⋆ making out ⋆ soft dom!chris ⋆ raw dogging ⋆ big dick!chris ⋆ size kink ⋆ bulge kink ⋆ clit play ⋆ fingers in mouth ⋆ mix of praise and degradation ⋆ dumbification ⋆ creampie + more.
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ---› 𝟑.𝟓 𝒌
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ---› well... it took me a minute to get this out 😭 anyway, all that "creamy" comment to white chocolate was craaazy (but i wouldn’t mind his creamy white chocolate ygwim??? lmaooo mb i’ll smbau).
𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 ---› english is not my first language! this is the continuation of «slut me out» for the people who wanted a second part^^
𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 ---› when chris used chat gpt to ask what kind of chocolate was best for chocolate chip pancakes (i’m assuming). the bot’s reply inspired this.
It has been a little over two weeks since you and Chris crossed the line between friends and something more. He’s been acting casual around you, too damn casual. He’s pretending as if that day didn’t happen. As if he didn’t fuck your mouth on the living room couch while his brothers were out.
That grated on your nerves. Because you didn’t know what he was thinking. You never can read his mind. He’s unreadable like that—or maybe you just don’t know him as well as you think you do. But that thought didn’t sit right with you either.
You’re drowning in your worries and thoughts on their living room couch—the same couch Chris had you on your knees and his cock deep down your throat—while simultaneously watching one of their Friday videos. The TV is loud, but not enough to distract you from your thoughts.
Chris is sitting beside you, one arm thrown casually behind the couch, fingers too close to your arm, twitching ever so slightly as if he’s trying not to touch you. He smirks at the TV, watching in amusement as his and his brothers banter and mess around.
"Wow. Tough guy." You say, part amused and part teasing, as you toss a few chips in your mouth, crunching on the salty potatoes. Despite your tone of words, you’re trying your best to not react strongly to his presence in the video, especially because he’s wearing all black and looking all smug like the sick fuck he usually is.
"What?" Chris cocks an eyebrow, turning his face to look at yours, that small smirk still on his lips. God, he probably has no idea how much you want those lips on your own—and everywhere on your body.
"You. You’re a tough guy in the video. Or you tried to be—but failed. Miserably." You smirk, taunting him, and watch as his jaw drops before he scoffs as if he’s genuinely offended.
"Okay. And what, you’re any better?" He scoffs again, rolling his eyes. But despite his defensiveness and half-heartedly annoyed words, his ears grow all hot, flushing an adorable pink.
You grin at his words, an amused laugh escaping you before you can stop it. "What do you mean by that?" Your voice quivers, like you’re trying not to laugh. "I don’t act all tough. Whereas you do. A lot. And it gives me the ick every time."
Chris laughs at that, loud and amused, his voice filling the living room. "Ick is such a funny word." He says between laughs, his "annoyed" act completely gone.
You two banter like that for a while before you remember that you were watching a video on the TV and clamp a hand over Chris’s mouth mid-laugh, causing him to choke on his laughter, playfully swatting your hand away.
"Don’t do that-" "Shh! Shut up. I can’t hear anything. You’re too loud." He simply grins and makes a zipping motion along his mouth, tossing the imaginary key away, making you roll your eyes at his stupidly adorable childish behavior.
Suddenly, the video cuts to a new scene and you immediately hear the chat gpt voice coming from Chris’s phone. Chris is standing beside Matt while Nick is laser-focused on measuring the pancake mix. The ai bot talks about which chocolate is best for chocolate chip pancakes.
"But white chocolate will give you a creamier, sweeter vibe. And if that’s what you-" The ai voice continues to give more information on the prompt Chris has given it. Meanwhile, Chris and Matt look at each other slowly and they both burst into giggles.
"Oh, c’mon!" Matt exclaims, laughing, somewhat banging his head lightly against Nick’s shoulder, but Nick just smirks, still measuring the pancake mix in the clear measuring cup.
Chris giggles at the video, still finding it funny. Meanwhile, you just give a small grin, your mind wandering elsewhere. You should really learn to keep your head away from the gutter, but how can you help yourself when the guy you like is Christopher Sturniolo? It’s easier said than done.
You shift slightly and swallow thickly, feeling your body react to the images your brain is making up. You’re still looking at the TV, watching the video—but not really watching it. Heat floods through you, soaking your panties and leaving you with an unbearable ache between your legs.
Chris notices. He always does. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth that he tries to suppress but surrenders after a half-hearted attempt to look oblivious. His lips curl up and he turns his face towards you again, tilting it slightly. "You okay?"
You blink, once, twice, heart in your throat. "I- yeah, why?" You ask back, the best response you can give him right now. It doesn’t help how knowing Chris’s grin is—as if he knows exactly why you’re acting the way you are.
"Yeah? And that’s why you’re fidgeting like you need something?" He teases, the innuendo behind his words so clear it’s making it harder for you to keep from pouncing on him right now and here on the couch.
"Chris." You try to warn, but it sounds more like a whine—a plea. You always thought those thirsty comments under thirst traps online ("it’s throbbing his name in Morse code") were completely exaggerated. But now, you’re not so sure anymore. Because you’re literally throbbing right now, and so much so it feels as if your pussy is throbbing Chris’s name in Morse code.
Chris’s grin widens, turning more wolfish and hungry, and his fingers curl around your arm, pulling you closer to him. His name coming out as a whine from your mouth seems to pour gasoline to the fire beginning to burn in his gut, making his pupils dilate and breathing grow heavy.
"Yes, mamas?" Chris hums, his grin not faltering.
Your eyes narrow slightly as you look into his, trying to keep eye contact in order not to let your eyes wander where it wants to. "Don’t call me that." You huff, although without any heat. "That’s giving me an ick, too."
This time, Chris doesn’t laugh, and instead he leans closer, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. You can see his eyes flick down to your lips, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard when he sees it parted ever so slightly and looking so inviting.
"Chris." You murmur, and it comes out breathless and needy. You’re sure your pupils are blown wide. Your face is growing hotter by the second, and your hands are getting clammy with nerves.
Chris just hums in response, his hand that isn’t wrapped around your arm reaching up to gently cup your jaw, thumb brushing softly across your skin. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your arms.
He gives you plenty of time to pull away, waiting for you to say you don’t want this—but you don’t. Still, he doesn’t want to assume things and possibly ruin everything important between you, so instead of just kissing you—despite your body leaning into him like you want it as much as he does—he whispers against your lips.
"Do you want this? Because if you don’t- If you want me to stop, I can. I can stop if you just tell me right now. But if you don’t-" His breath hitches, "If you don’t tell me to stop, I don’t think I can stop myself from taking you right here—right now. On this couch."
Your heart stutters at the genuine concern in his tone beneath all the desire. He’s worried he won’t be able to control himself. He’s worried about breaking you, taking you like he wants to. Asking for consent is the bare minimum, but the way he asked, the way he’s always so genuinely caring, made your chest feel all warm and fuzzy.
You nod. "I... I want this- I want you. Please don’t stop, Chris."
That’s all the confirmation he needs to close the distance, his lips pressing softly against yours. He’s tentative at first, just tasting your lips for the first time, sighing softly into your mouth like he’s finally getting what he’s been wanting for years. Which isn’t false.
And then he’s hungry, slowly but surely unravelling you with his mouth against yours, nipping and soothing your bottom lip with his tongue. His tongue tangles with yours next, dominating your mouth completely.
He pushes you back against the couch cushions without breaking the kiss and his body covers yours, hips between your legs and forearms caging your head. His head turns a few degrees to the side, finally breaking the kiss to trail open mouthed kisses down your chin and neck.
Your fingers curl in his brown locks, tugging gently at the fluffy strands as Chris’s mouth maps out your skin, leaving hickeys as if he’s claiming what belongs to him.
"Fu-fuuck-- so deep—ahn—Chris-" Your whimpers get cut off as Chris’s hand clamps over your mouth, firm and warm, fingers digging into your cheek. Your moans and breathless cries are muffled by his palm, but not silenced.
His lips graze against your earlobe as he whispers harshly in your ear, his words a low growl. "Be fucking quiet... I don’t want Matt and Nick to hear." He doesn’t slow down though. Rather, his hips slap harder against your thighs, loud smacks echoing in his room with each thrust. His cock reaches so deep you swear you can feel him in your chest.
You struggle to keep eye contact with him, partly because looking into his eyes—all dark and hungry—right now is bad for your heart. But mostly because he’s hitting all the right spots inside you and it’s taking everything in you to keep your eyes from rolling back.
The mattress creaks in protest as Chris pounds you into it. The headboard bangs against the wall loudly and rhythmically. Anyone who overhears it will—without a doubt—know what’s happening. But that thought doesn’t cross Chris’s mind, instead the loud sounds only fuels his urge to fuck you harder.
Your brain refuses to understand anything that’s happening. One minute you were making out on the living room couch while his brothers were in their respective rooms, and the next you were already on his bed, yours and his clothes thrown haphazardly in a pile on the floor and his cock already so deep inside you it was making you turn stupid in seconds.
His hand leaves your mouth abruptly and your moans are loud and uncontrollable for a split second before he shoves his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. "Suck." He orders gruffly, voice almost unrecognizable due to desire and exertion.
Watching you suck on his thumb like you did to his dick made him twitch inside you. He can feel your pussy squeezing him more than before as you eagerly hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue around his thumb. Fuck, you’re enjoying it so much. Maybe too much. And Chris is barely containing himself above you.
"Fuuck—mmhn—yeah, keep fucking suckin’... Juust like that." Chris groans, his thick cock hammering into your sopping cunt as he pushes his thumb further into your mouth, making you gag, unprepared.
His free hand pushes one of your legs further up into your chest with a grunt, his rhythm faltering ever so slightly as he tries to find your sweet spot. It doesn’t take long to find it and he knows he’s hitting just right when you squirm beneath him, your pussy choking his length. Your moans grow higher pitched, vibrating around his thumb.
"Shhh... Oh-- fuuck, ma... She’s gon’ bruise my dick." Chris hisses, pulling his thumb out of your mouth to hold your legs in a different angle instead. "Haahh... Such a greedy fucking pussy, squeezin’ me like that." He lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head subtly.
You can’t even speak, let alone think. Too full of his cock to really focus on anything else but him. You whimper in protest when you feel his cock slip out of you with a wet sound, leaving you empty and aching.
But your whining cuts to a stop by a surprised noise when he pulls you to the edge of his bed, having climbed off who knows when—your head was too fuzzy with lingering pleasure to have noticed it. You prop yourself halfway on your elbows and stare at him with parted lips, blinking, before looking down between your legs. His thick, veiny length rests heavily on your pelvis, angry and intimidating.
Chris grins as he looks down at you and sees you staring between your legs with a heated, hungry look, making his dick twitch against your skin at the attention. "See something you like?" He teases, pushing his hips forward, his balls pressing against your pussy lips as he shows just how deep he can reach.
He presses on the spot just above his tip—and just below your bellybutton—with two firm digits, tapping on the skin. "This is how deep I can go... How fucking deep I’ll be in your tight little pussy. Think you can take it? Take me all the way in your guts baby?"
Your breath hitches at Chris’s dirty talk, your pussy clenching and unclenching emptily, saliva all thick with how horny you are as you swallow hard. You look at him, seeing the look on his face and the barely contained desire, and back between your legs, basically drooling over his big dick.
Chris pulls back and grips the base of his cock firmly, pulling his fist up towards his tip with a hiss, his skin shifting slightly with the motion. Precum pools at his slit, oozing down his tip and dripping lazily onto your pussy. "You sure you want this? I’ll fucking ruin your pussy for anyone else if I continue."
You just nod. "Please, Chris." The plea comes out desperate, almost a whimper. And that’s enough for Chris to give you exactly what you both want. He positions his cockhead against your entrance and pushes inside slowly, letting you feel every thick inch of him, every ridge and vein throbbing with need along his shaft.
A moan claws out of your throat when he bottoms out, his balls flush against your ass, pelvis grinding against your clit, and tip kissing your cervix in a way that has your body instinctively try to pull away. You don’t even really register him throwing your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs.
"Oh-- f-fuck- Chris-!" You moan loudly when he begins to pound into your pussy with deep and fast strokes that have your nails digging into the bedsheets as you clutch onto it.
You hear him pull back with a huff before slamming back home, but from a slightly different angle, and your whole body seizes for a moment before shuddering, your toes curling and eyes rolling back.
Chris sees your reaction and grips your thighs tighter, no doubt leaving marks. "Fuck, baby... Right here? Look at you going all dumb on my cock." He taunts as he holds the angle, making sure to hit the spot inside you that has you letting out those cute moans and mewls.
Your vision blurs with tears of pleasure and Chris can’t help but groan, low in his throat, at the sight of your tears. His jaw muscles tick as he tries to control his own sounds, occasionally letting a deep moan slip here and there.
Suddenly, his cock jerks inside you, and you feel it when it does. And then he speaks, gruffly, in equal parts awe and unadulterated desire, like he just discovered something incredible.
"You can see me inside you... Like, literally fucking see me." He presses on your pelvis in awe, pulling out slightly and pushing back inside, watching your flesh move in time with his motion. He does it again, and again, unable to take his eyes off.
You’re moaning unintelligibly, the coils in your stomach curling tighter with each thrust. Meanwhile, Chris is just too fascinated by the way your body shows just how big he is, his confidence sky-rocketing with each movement.
"Chris-" You choke out, trying to warn him of your impending orgasm.
"Yeah, ma? Coming? Gonna cum all over my big dick?" He teases, letting your legs down and wrapping them around his waist as he leans forward, propping himself with a hand beside your head. His other hand reaches down and finds your clit, his thumb rubbing firm circles over your swollen, slick nub.
You nod desperately, lips parting in an "o" shape as you clutch onto his biceps and shoulder, nails leaving crescent shapes on his skin. The feeling of his thick cock plowing in and out of your pussy all while he’s playing with your clit feels too good. And the overwhelming double stimulation has your orgasm crashing down on you faster than you thought possible.
Your head falls back against the bed with a soft thud, a soft cry leaving your lips as your thighs shake where it’s wrapped tightly around his waist. Chris groans loudly, feeling your orgasm ripple around him, velvet like walls spasming and fluttering around his swelling cock.
His balls draw tight at just the feeling of you coming on his dick. "Shit... m’gonna fucking nut if you squeeze me like that." He moans, low and broken, leaving no doubt to the fact that he’s on the verge of filling you up with his seed.
"Can I-" You don’t even let him finish his words and pull him into a desperate kiss, your legs tightening around him as if you don’t want him to pull out. And Chris’s eyes nearly roll back.
He kisses you back with the same level of desperation, his hips rutting into yours with sloppy jerks instead of the measured deep thrusts he gave you previously. He pulls away from the kiss, breathing heavily, and drops his forehead on your shoulder. His breath begins to hitch frequently, brows furrowing so prettily.
"Fuck-- fuck, fuck! I’m gonna-- you’re gonna make me—" His words are cut off by a guttural groan as he spills inside you, hips twitching and jerking, his whole body shuddering. Your nails scratch lightly across his back, and he moans at that. "Oh--ffuuck..."
He slumps against you after a while, peppering lazy butterfly kisses along your collarbone and shoulder, each kiss holding a deeper meaning than just lust. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. You can feel his creamy cum inside you, making you feel all warm and full.
Chris walks into the kitchen to get a can of Pepsi, his hair damp from his shower. You’re snoozing away in his room, having showered as well after the fact, all warm and cozy under his comforter. He opens the fridge and grins, taking one of the cold cans of Pepsi and opening it with a loud pop before taking a big gulp.
"Fuuck yeah," Chris groans in satisfaction, feeling the perfectly chilled soda glide down his dry throat. He’d been wanting this ever since he was panting and exhausted from the sex. He did bring you water, but he’d forgotten to get himself a Pepsi and was just too lazy to go back into the kitchen.
Coincidentally, Nick walks downstairs and literally freezes in place when he sees Chris. "Oh my God. Chris." He gasps out. "Do you even know how fucking loud you were? I could hear from my room! I bet the whole fucking neighborhood heard you bang a girl downstairs."
Chris snorts, taking a sip from his drink before replying in an amused tone. "You’re exaggerating." He takes another swig from his Pepsi, looking completely unbothered. Meanwhile, Nick looks tired of Chris’s talent in playing off his words as something amusing.
Nick sighs, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge door. "Whatever. Just be quieter next time. And don’t bring just any girls over. We share this place—in case you’ve forgotten." He takes a bag of leftover taco bell from this afternoon and walks back upstairs.
But then he halts in his steps and turns around to squint at Chris. "You’re using protection... Right? I’m not ready to be an uncle."
Chris chuckles, but understands why Nick is concerned. "Yeah, I am," he lies through his teeth. "And I’ll be quiet next time. I promise. Or I’ll just do it somewhere else." He grins innocently, but inside he’s laughing hysterically at the fact that Nick doesn’t know it’s you he nutted inside without protection an hour prior to this conversation.
Nick sighs, relieved. "Just making sure. Also, where is she? Did she go home already?" Chris knows exactly who Nick is referring to—you—so he nods, lying to Nick’s face yet again. Nick sighs again, mumbling as he walks back upstairs. "I was gonna ask her for her opinion but I guess I’ll just text her."
Chris knows all the lies he just told will come back to bite him in the ass, especially since you’re close with his brothers too and he’s not sure how they’d react to what happened just under their noses.
Oh well. Chris thinks to himself, taking a sip of his Pepsi.
Dan and Phil first youtubers in history to ever make and publish an official FORGIVING video instead of an APOLOGY one. Pioneers at everything. Setting trends from 2009. You gotta love them.
sometimes something happens and it reminds you that queer joy actually is the point. there are millions of people across the whole planet right now that are feeling joy because of two people being happy and you are one of them
mcr only band in the world that will have you saying insane sentences like “i wonder if the suicide bomber clown will feel remorse tonight” or “i can’t wait to go to tampa”
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
dededos
areudirty
vaporwave
