#“F-finish the job Chris”

[thealmightytrashdump]

What if wesker really did "die" in re5, but uroboros continued to use his corpse as a vessel to continue surviving. So he essentially becomes an undead puppet. And once it comes across another human or animal, it absorbs that living creature and uses their body to continue surviving.

What if in re9, it shows up as some animalistic mindless monster that can't be killed like Lisa Trevor. So when the Chris/Wesker showdown happens, Chris initially thinks its just another boss but recognizes the black ooze as uroboros and then in a fit to survive, the uroboros monster shows Wesker's dead face to Chris to disarm him.

Of course Chris prevails* and manages to kill it via the re7-re8 crystalization then bomb method.

[likeumeanit9497]

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

Not proofread

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chris was struggling during the ceremony, he sat next to his brothers staring at you on the left side of the altar. You looked gorgeous and he wanted nothing more than to tear that silky bridesmaid dress off of you. But, for the sake of your family, he refrained.

The reception wasn’t any different. He was incredibly handsy and didn’t even try to hide it. While you were talking to your family, Chris’s hands would snake around your hips, pulling you close so you could feel his growing erection. He kept finding excuses to touch you, although, you weren’t complaining.

“Quickie in the bathroom?” He leans over, whispering in your ear while you’re talking to your cousin. You shoot him an approving look, letting him wander off to the bathroom. After a few minutes, you excuse yourself from the conversation. Making your way down the banquet hall corridor, you find the bathroom, pushing open the door, you find Chris, impatiently pacing around the tile.

“What, Couldn’t wait a few more hours?” You tease him, you hands toying with his necktie.

“With you looking like that? Fuck no,” Chris murmurs, pulling you in by the waist for a kiss. He was right, you did look good. The purple bridesmaid dress you were wearing accentuated every curve of your body and the makeup artist for the wedding party did a phenomenal job, the best you’ve ever looked, honestly.

“Mmhm, pulling me away from my family…” you mumble into his lips, his hands roaming to pull the straps of your dress down over your shoulders.

“Can’t resist,” he lifts you up onto the counter, scrunching the silk fabric of your dress around your waist and pulling your panties to the side. He’s quick to unzip his dress pants, pulling himself out of his boxers and lining himself up with your entrance.

“Think you can be quiet?” Chris rubs his dick through your folds, you breathe out an incoherent response, wrapping your freshly manicured nails around his shoulders. Without warning, he slips himself inside of you, you bite down on your lip. there was a whole wedding party down the corridor, one loud moan and you’d both be fucked.

“Shit… feel s’good,” Chris groans, fastening pace. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place atop the bathroom counter. Your own nails grip his shoulder blades through his suit jacket and your head his buried in his neck in attempt to muffle any moans from your end.

The sound of skin hitting skin echos throughout the bathroom as Chris pounds into your sopping pussy, you’re a whimpering mess underneath him.

“Harder, please baby…” you whine out, feeling a tear prick your eye. Chris follows your request, his thumb padding under your eye to collect the stray tear. Couldn’t have runny makeup this time, the risk of getting caught was already high enough.

“Dress looks so fuckin’ sexy on you-” he grunts, kissing your shoulder, he pulls you closer to his body, wrapping your leg around his waist to hit a deeper angle.

“F-fuck!” You cry out, gripping the edge of the granite counters. You can feel your gummy walls hugging around his length the deeper he goes.

“Shh, keep it down princess.” Chris covers your mouth with one of his hands, the other still holding you steady by your hips. You’re looking at him with pleading eyes and by the way your throwing your head against the bathroom mirror, he can tell your getting close.

With your desperate whines and his sloppy thrusts, the both of you are bound to finish at the same time. Chris thrusts once more, burying his cock as deep as it’ll go groaning against your shoulder as thick ropes of cum fill you up.

“So…so good!” You squeal, squirming under his hold. Your own release overtaking you. Chris places a kiss on your forehead, pulling out of you and leaving you panting on top of the counter.

“Better?” He reaches for a paper towel, cleaning himself off then doing the same to the inside of your thighs. You adjust the straps of your dress, hopping down on the floor. Chris helping both of you straighten your clothes out.

“Much better.” You smile at your boyfriend, helping him readjust his tie. “Now c’mon, I wanna eat.” You take his hand, leading him out of the bathroom.

“Oh, I’m gonna eat when we get back home.” Chris teases, grabbing your ass as you both enter the reception again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/n: Very, very quickly written smut😱 Chris looks so scrumptious in a suit I wanna rip it off of him!

[boyfiechan]

[Party Favor]

…or the one where you're just two responsible adults planning your best friends’ joint bachelor/bachelorette party—until the box of sexy party supplies arrives and things spiral wildly out of hand.

Bang Chan x Reader Notes: Friendship and glitter on genitals, I guess. Content Warnings: AFAB reader, best friends to lovers, a hell lot of kissing, mutual pining, aphrodisiac use, mentions of drinking, explicit sexual content, sexy card games, fingering, use of pet names (baby), dry humping, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, use of warming gel and sensation enhancers, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, mention of sex toys, multiple orgasms, creampie, use of handcuffs, banter during sex, chaotic horniness. [22k words]

The box sat between you on Chris’s kitchen island like some cursed artifact neither of you wanted to be the first to open. You were supposed to be working—finalizing the plans for Mina and Jae’s joint bachelor and bachelorette parties, putting the finishing touches on the schedule, talking through guest lists and food allergies and whether the Airbnb allowed glitter—but instead, you were both just standing there, staring at a giant, metallic-wrapped package that had arrived earlier that afternoon with no return address, just a handwritten note that read, Have fun. You’re welcome. -Cousin Yujin. Chris had carried it inside like it weighed a hundred pounds, half-laughing, half-grimacing as he dropped it onto the counter. She said she was sending some party supplies. I thought she meant streamers, he said, still catching his breath. Not a whole suitcase full of questionable decisions.

You didn’t open it so much as peel it apart cautiously, as if expecting it to hiss or glow or otherwise confirm your suspicion that this would be a very different kind of planning session. The first layer revealed a cascade of pink and red tissue paper, scattered with tiny heart-shaped confetti, and beneath that—chaos. A deck of cards with the words Naughty Challenge in sparkly foil, a pair of red satin blindfolds, plastic handcuffs, massage oils in a variety pack labeled Dessert Flavors. A single feather tickler. A tube of something called Arousal Gel, which you held between two fingers like it might bite. Chris leaned in beside you, lips twitching with a suppressed laugh. Is that… whipped cream flavored? he asked, peering over your shoulder. You checked. Strawberry cheesecake. He let out a low whistle. Classy.

You weren’t quite laughing yet, but the absurdity of it all had begun to settle in—this was your job now, apparently, organizing not just a party, but a themed weekend that walked the line between slightly wild and entirely too intimate. You were both trying to do right by your friends, to make sure they had a celebration they’d remember for the right reasons, and yet here you were, elbows-deep in what looked like a bachelorette party starter pack from a very risqué Etsy store. Chris picked up one of the dice, a soft, neon pink set with verbs on one and body parts on the other and rolled them idly on the counter. Kiss… neck, he read, then looked over at you with mock solemnity. Very educational.

You leaned against the island, arms crossed, watching as he turned over one item after another. He wasn’t rushing—more curious than anything, like he was cataloging evidence and here was something comfortable about it, the way you could both hover here in this liminal space between teasing and planning, between two friends who’d known each other too long to be shy but not quite long enough to ignore the tension. You think they’ll actually use this stuff? you asked, nodding at the pile. Chris shrugged. Maybe some of it. Probably not the aphrodisiac serum. He held up a little amber bottle and squinted at the label. ‘Heightens arousal. Do not exceed recommended dose.’ Sounds intense. You smirked. Bet it’s just honey and cayenne. Or snake venom, he offered. Real test of love—survive the honeymoon.

It wasn’t awkward, not exactly, but you could feel a kind of charged stillness creeping in as the initial laughter faded. The box had gone from hilarious to oddly thought-provoking, as if you were both slowly realizing you’d just been handed a pile of questions you hadn’t planned to ask each other, not explicitly, not like this. Chris nudged a card your way—Act out your partner’s fantasy—and raised a brow. Think we need to screen these before game night? he asked. Some of these are kind of… a lot.

You hesitated, then nodded. Probably smart. I mean, we can’t exactly have Jae doing body shots off his fiancée’s cousin in front of his mom. Chris grimaced, then laughed under his breath. Okay, yeah. We screen them. He paused. Should we—like—actually go through a few? Just to get a feel for what we’re working with? He wasn’t looking directly at you now, more at the cards, the bottle, the chaos you’d unearthed together, like he was trying to keep it casual, and it was casual, just curiosityl just research, two responsible people doing their due diligence. Still, the question hovered there in the space between you, quiet and warm and just a little off-center, like maybe neither of you wanted to admit you’d already been wondering the same thing.

It had always been like this with Chris, comfortable in a way that was easy to forget wasn’t necessarily normal. He was the kind of friend who snuck snacks into your tote bag at the movies and remembered the name of your high school dog even though you only mentioned it once, smart, unflinchingly reliable, a little chaotic when bored—but gorgeous in a way that still, occasionally, knocked the wind out of you when you looked too long. Which was why you didn’t, usually, at least not on purpose. He was built like someone who accidentally became a Calvin Klein model and never told anyone, all long limbs and lean muscle and that infuriating combination of soft eyes, dimples and a sharp jaw. He didn’t act like he knew it, though, walked around in perfectly clean sneakers and a identical rotation of hoodies like he wasn’t an accidental heart attack waiting to happen. You had a whole system worked out for ignoring it, finely tuned over years of close proximity and just enough inappropriately timed thoughts to make your own life difficult, and besides, it was funny, you two were funny—quick banter, loud opinions, inside jokes that made other people squint. It worked, it had always worked.

Still, there was something about tonight that felt a little off-center, not bad, just off the usual track. Maybe it was the wine you’d cracked open an hour ago, or the slow glow of sunset spilling across the kitchen, or maybe it was the undeniable weight of the box sitting open between you, full of things neither of you were really pretending to ignore anymore. You could tell Chris felt it too, not in any obvious way, but in the way his movements had slowed just a bit, more deliberate, like he was giving the moment more room to breathe.

He picked up the deck of Naughty Challenge cards and fanned them out like a magician about to do a trick. Alright, he said, tone light, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. One test round, purely for quality control. You pick. You raised an eyebrow but reached anyway, plucking a card from the center. ‘Give your partner a compliment in the sexiest voice you can manage,’ you read aloud, then looked up, unimpressed. This feels like a trap. Chris laughed. Come on. Low stakes. I’ll go first.

He cleared his throat dramatically, then turned toward you with an exaggerated smolder. Your spreadsheet skills, he said, voice dropping an octave, make me feral. You choked on your sip of wine, sputtering as you doubled over against the counter. You’re a menace. He smiled. I’m a menace with a healthy appreciation for color-coded tabs.

It was stupid. Ridiculous. The kind of joke that should’ve fallen flat but didn’t, because it was him, because he could make anything sound almost sincere, just for a second. And then he was looking at you, and you were still laughing, but the space between you had shrunk without either of you moving. Just a hair, just enough to notice.

You flipped the card around in your fingers, trying to keep your face neutral, but you could feel the warmth rising in your chest, just below the surface. Okay, you said slowly, my turn. He tilted his chin up, mock-expectant as uou licked your lips, pretending to consider your options. Your arms, you said finally, pitching your voice low and overly breathy, are very… efficient. For carrying things. And lifting boxes. Big boxes. Chris stared at you a beat, then cracked up, resting both hands on the counter as he laughed. Wow, he said, wheezing a little. Are you flirting with me or hiring me for a moving company? You shrugged. Why not both?

The laughter lingered, but the air shifted again, subtly, the way a room quiets when someone walks in. You didn’t move away, neither did he and there was something about the fact that you could both feel it, but neither of you said anything, that made it feel heavier than it should’ve. Not awkward, just aware, a pause held between jokes, like the next card might change something if you weren’t careful. Or maybe if you were.

Chris tapped the edge of the deck against the counter like he was about to deal blackjack, eyes still a little crinkled at the corners from laughing. Alright, he said, voice mock-serious, we’re on a roll. Let’s see what other emotionally devastating challenges this box has for us. He slid another card from the pile and read it with the kind of gravitas usually reserved for Oscar speeches. ‘Demonstrate your favorite sex position. Using interpretive dance.’ He blinked, you blinked and for a long second, neither of you moved. Then you both completely lost it.

Chris doubled over against the counter, forehead pressed to the cool granite like he needed divine intervention. No, he gasped. Absolutely not. I’m calling the police. You were crying laughing, hand over your mouth, barely able to breathe. This box is unhinged, you wheezed. Yujin needs to be on some kind of government watchlist. Chris nodded rapidly, still recovering. She just sent us a live grenade. This is psychological warfare.

But then, because neither of you had ever been good at letting a joke die, you straightened up, wiped your eyes, and said, Okay but hypothetically, if I did have a favorite… And before Chris could stop you, you stepped back from the counter and started miming an aggressively interpretive series of hip rotations that could only be described as deeply confusing and possibly inspired by modern jazz. I call this one ‘Anxious Cowgirl,’ you announced, waving your arms like you were on a deranged cruise ship. Chris groaned and covered his face. I’m begging you to stop. I feel like I’m going to get arrested just for witnessing this.

You’re just mad because you’re about to get outdanced, you said, pointing at him. Let’s go, best man. Show me missionary with meaning. And somehow, somehow, he did, with the stiff awkwardness of a man deeply regretting his life choices, Chris shuffled out from behind the counter and launched into something between a body roll and a mime of spiritual suffering, hands raised like he was trying to summon something holy. This is called Two Minutes Before Cramps, he said solemnly, hips moving like they were operating on a six-second delay. It’s mostly forearms and disappointment. You collapsed onto the barstool, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. Oh my god, stop. That’s actually worse than mine.”

Lies, he shot back, pointing an accusing finger. Yours looked like a Zumba class for the recently divorced.

The energy was ridiculous, you were both borderline crying, red-faced, breathless, drunk not on the wine but on the sheer absurdity of what your night had turned into, but underneath the chaos, there was that little pull again, that thing you kept pretending wasn’t there. Because every time he looked at you too long, or your arms bumped, or he laughed with that quiet, real sound that he didn’t share with everyone, something in you pinged. Nothing big, just a moment, a shift, a question that hadn’t been asked, but maybe, maybe was getting a little closer to the surface.

Still, you weren’t touching that yet, mot with a ten-foot feather tickler. So instead you leaned back, wiped your face, and said, Okay, final round. Let’s find the dumbest one in here.

Chris, ever the overachiever, picked up the instruction booklet and squinted at the fine print. There’s one called Sensory Temptation Roulette, he said slowly. You blindfold each other and take turns guessing which body part the other person is touching you with. He paused. There’s a note here about ‘only consenting players should participate,’ which feels like a red flag.

You blinked. Do you think they mean like… elbow? Nose? Or… You trailed off, eyebrows raised. Chris didn’t answer, just held your gaze for a second too long, then very calmly picked up the blindfold from the box and held it out to you.

You stared at it. Then at him.

Then back at it.

You are so lucky I’m bored.

He grinned like he’d just won something, all bright teeth and boyish smugness, the blindfold dangling from his fingers like a prize. No one’s ever said that to me in a flattering context, he said, stepping closer, enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something warm and clean and irritatingly good, and see the slight flush in his cheeks that may have been from laughter, or the wine, or maybe just the rising temperature of this whole stupid, spiraling idea. You took the blindfold slowly, holding his gaze as if you were about to sign a legally binding document, and looped it over your eyes with exaggerated care. Alright, you said, sitting up straighter on the barstool. Let the scientifically rigorous examination of sensory nonsense commence. I’m ready for my doctorate in Guess the Body Part. You heard Chris laugh softly, close now, and then the sound of him moving, the quiet shuffle of socked feet on tile, the rustle of fabric as he adjusted or considered something behind the veil of your vision.

You tried not to anticipate where the touch would land, you really did, but there was something about being blindfolded—about giving over that sliver of control to someone you trusted, who also happened to be annoyingly hot and standing much too close—that made your brain short-circuit. When it came, it was light, barely a brush at all, somewhere on your forearm, and you startled a little at the unexpected texture. Okay, you said slowly. That felt… weirdly soft. Was that your cheek?

Chris made a buzzer sound with his mouth. Incorrect. That was my chin. Very different. My cheek is much more emotionally available. You snorted, blindfold shifting slightly as you laughed. My bad, I’ll recalibrate my cheek-to-chin radar.

The next one landed on your knee, a gentle bump that felt like knuckles, maybe. Knuckle? you guessed, biting your lip. A beat. Close. Elbow. He sounded weirdly proud, like his joints were something to be admired. Bonus points for not screaming. Most people panic when approached by a stealth elbow. You smiled in spite of yourself and it was really stupid, all of it, delirious and strange and deeply unserious, but there was something oddly sweet about how carefully he was doing it. Not teasing, not pushing boundaries, just playing the way you always had, except now you were blindfolded and he was touching you, and your skin was starting to keep score.

The next touch was slower, not rough, but deliberate, the back of your shoulder, maybe, or the top of your arm—warm and solid and unmistakably him. You felt it in your spine, that little flicker of tension your body tried to dismiss as nothing, just nerves or the wine or the thousand other excuses that didn’t account for the fact that his hand lingered. Fingertips, you said, and it came out quieter than you intended. Chris didn’t answer right away, just a small pause. Then: Yeah. His voice had dropped a little, still playful, still soft, but you could hear the shift too, subtle and unspoken, like the space between a joke and the moment it stops being funny, not because anyone said so, just because the air got heavier.

He stepped back, or maybe just stilled, and you exhaled slowly. Okay, you said, lifting your hands to the blindfold, my turn. I’m ready to exact blindfolded revenge. But when you pulled it off and looked at him, Chris was already watching you. He had that same grin, but it had changed, barely, into something steadier, something with less teeth and more weight as his gaze dropped to your mouth for half a second, then snapped back up, like he caught himself mid-thought. You felt it like a tug, small, sharp, not enough to pull you in—but enough to know it was there. You held out the blindfold. Your funeral. Chris took it with a shrug, but the way he tied it on was slower now, more thoughtful, like the whole thing had become a different game.

The blindfold settled over his eyes with practiced ease, like he wasn’t blindfolding himself in the middle of his own kitchen while his best friend loomed dangerously close with vague intentions and a wildly fluctuating heart rate. Chris adjusted the knot at the back, then held out his arms in theatrical surrender. Alright. Do your worst. But just know—if I scream, it’s only because I bruise easily and have a complicated relationship with trust. You rolled your eyes, grinning despite the thrum of something slower moving beneath your skin. You’re the most dramatic man alive, you muttered, stepping closer, already scanning the possible points of contact like this was some kind of twisted impossible math question. You weren’t nervous, not exactly, but there was a new sort of buzz threading itself through your limbs now, an awareness, taut and unfamiliar, that hadn’t been part of this game until just recently. Something about seeing him standing there, all stillness and stupidly good bone structure, mouth pulled into a smirk that he probably didn’t even know was doing things to your brain that it made it a lot harder to treat this like a harmless joke.

You went for easy first, brushing the edge of your forearm lightly against his collarbone, a soft pass that made him flinch just slightly. Was that your… wrist? he guessed, head tilting in thought. Wow, you deadpanned. No. That was literally my entire arm. Do you think I’m a small bird? Chris laughed, bright and sudden, the sound echoing in the kitchen. Sorry, sorry. I got distracted. It felt… graceful. He grimmaced. You’re unbelievable, you muttered, but your voice had gone soft at the edges. You were too aware of how close you were, too tuned in to the way he was still smiling even though he couldn’t see you, the kind of smile that always made you want to nudge him just to see how much further it would go.

Next you tapped the side of his neck with the tip of your nose, because you couldn’t help yourself, because it was stupid and unexpected and you wanted to see what he’d do. He jolted like you’d electrocuted him, swore under his breath, then stood perfectly still. Okay, he said slowly. That was… something. Was that your elbow? You leaned back with a grin, the air between you now oddly charged. That was my nose, you absolute himbo.

Jesus, he whispered, laughing nervously. Why is this starting to feel like foreplay? And just like that, the breath in your lungs turned into something else. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, half of what you said to each other was, but you didn’t laugh this time. You didn’t say anything, neither did he.

For a second, the silence stretched out, not uncomfortable, just expectant. You stared at him, blindfolded and a little flushed, his mouth parted like he was waiting for your next move and for once, you didn’t second-guess it, you stepped in again, closer this time, letting the tip of your fingers trace from his wrist to the inside of his elbow in a slow, unhurried pass. His breath caught, visibly, audibly. And when you stopped, he didn’t guess, didn’t speak. Just stood there, waiting. You swallowed, your voice was quieter now, unsure but steady. You gonna guess? Chris tilted his head slightly. I don’t think I care what part that was.

The silence after that wasn’t funny, wasn’t filled with jokes or banter or pretend. It was thick with something else, something that looked a lot like choice. You could feel it rising between you, soft and slow, unspoken and undeniable, something you couldn’t unplay and still, neither of you moved.

Chris was the first to crack. He cleared his throat, untied the blindfold with a flick of his fingers that was way too casual to be real, blinking like he’d just returned from war. Okay, he said, voice an octave too bright, so that game is obviously cursed. We were one round away from accidentally getting engaged. You laughed, high and nervous, stepping back like there was a trapdoor under your feet. Yeah, no, that felt like a gateway drug to emotions. Absolutely not. You turned back toward the box, sifting through the chaos of cards and packaging and absurd neon-colored nonsense like it was a life raft. Let’s eat something weird and reset our brain chemistry.

Chris, already halfway through inspecting what looked like edible lube in a tiny foil pouch, raised an eyebrow. Do you want the one labeled body chocolate or sugar lips? Because one of these sounds like a drag queen and the other sounds like an HR violation. You snorted and grabbed the one with a sketchy cartoon strawberry on the label. Let’s go with the one that looks the least like it’ll send us to the ER.

You peeled it open, sniffed it cautiously, then gave him a look. Why does this smell like Dollar Store Nutella? Chris leaned in, took a whiff, and recoiled instantly. That’s not Nutella. That’s Nuthella. As in, you’d have to be out of your mind to eat that. Your snorted. Oh, come on, you said, scooping a fingertip’s worth and sticking it in your mouth. It can’t be that— You froze. Chewed, slowly, then made a face like you’d just been betrayed by a trusted family member. It tastes like a candle. A very sexy candle. Chris burst out laughing. Give me that, he said, grabbing his own sample with way too much enthusiasm and popped it into his mouth, immediately making a noise of profound regret. Oh no. Oh no no. Why is it spicy? He paced a tight circle like a soccer player trying to walk off an injury. It tastes like someone dipped chocolate in cologne and then lost a bet.

I think it’s supposed to ‘awaken your senses,’ you said, flipping the package over. It’s definitely awakened my gag reflex. He flopped into the stool across from you, still grimacing, and picked up one of the tiny heart-shaped mints labeled Intimint Explosion. Dare me? he asked, already unwrapping it. Absolutely not, you said, but he popped it into his mouth anyway. He blinked, paused, then his face twisted into something between alarm and existential confusion. Okay, wow. That’s… aggressive. My tongue is having a religious experience. There’s like… phases.

You were cackling now, hunched over the counter as you rummaged through the next layer of the box. Alright, you said, breathless, we need a palate cleanser before one of us has to file a report with the FDA. You pulled out a plastic contraption shaped like a miniature cactus and turned it over in your hands. What the hell is this? A novelty back scratcher? A massage tool for emotionally distant partners? Chris leaned in to inspect it. No, no, look—it has a little switch. And like… these soft spinny things? He flicked the switch and the tiny rubber nubs started twirling with an aggressive buzz that neither of you expected. You both stared. Then looked at each other. Is it… for your face? you asked slowly. Chris tilted his head. Maybe your nipples?

That’s not the same category, Chris. You said, raising an eyebrow at him. Well, I don’t know what people are into! Don’t judge my ideas. You set it down like it might explode and pulled out the next item, a tiny feather on the end of what looked like a miniature riding crop. Okay, this one’s easy. This is obviously for… uh… You trailed off, twirling it between your fingers, then looked up at him. Okay fine, what the hell is this for? Chris took it, spun it once like he was about to do a magic trick, then flicked it gently against his own arm. I think it’s supposed to be seductive, he said, eyebrows raised in concentration. But I just feel like I’m being interrogated by a fancy bird. You doubled over laughing again, nearly crying now as he fanned himself dramatically with it and said, in a horrible British accent, I demand to know the whereabouts of the Duke's underpants!

It was good like this, stupid and unhinged and exactly the right amount of unsexy, just long enough to forget the undercurrent of whatever had passed between you during that blindfolded pause. You could feel it, still, flickering at the edge of things, but right now, wrapped in laughter and candle-flavored regret, it was easy to let it wait.

The laughter eventually tapered into something breathless and warm, the kind of quiet that came after a proper, cleansing laugh, where your face hurt and your stomach ached and you felt slightly high on nothing at all. You were sprawled across one stool, chin resting on your arms, and Chris was opposite you, still fidgeting with the feathery interrogation wand like it had secrets to reveal. Between you, the box lay half-unpacked, its contents scattered in an impressive array of shapes and suspicious functions, looking more like the inventory of a very unserious wizard than anything remotely erotic.

You reached blindly and came up with a sleek little thing that looked like an alien’s idea of a slingshot. Okay, you said, turning it upside down, this one feels like it’s for clamping… something. Maybe ears? Nose? A very specific kind of grief? Chris leaned in, elbow on the counter, eyes narrowing as he took it from your hands. I think this is one of those things that either goes very right or ends your relationship in five seconds. He tested the springy arms against his fingers, winced immediately. Yup. That’s going directly into the Maybe Not pile.

You reached for a wrapped chocolate heart still floating at the bottom of the box and unwrapped it like it owed you something. Okay, but real talk, you said, chewing slowly, is it getting weirdly warm in here? Chris was already halfway through another one, despite his earlier condemnation, and looked mildly betrayed by his own decision. Yes, he said through a mouthful, and also… is your mouth buzzing? Because mine is. Like… subtly. In a way that feels both delightful and deeply concerning.

You paused, tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth. …Yes. What the hell did they put in these? Is this FDA approved? You both stared at the shiny wrapper, no ingredients listed, just the words Velvet Ecstasy in swirly gold font, like it was a flavor and not a threat. Chris squinted at it. Do you think it’s like… some kind of low-grade aphrodisiac? Because that would explain why I suddenly want to flirt with the toaster.

You snorted, shifting in your seat, only now realizing how your skin felt a little more, like your clothes were one layer too many, or the air was just a few degrees too humid. Nothing dramatic—just enough to make you cross and uncross your legs under the counter, like you were trying to resettle your own mood as Chris seemed to be feeling it too; he’d stopped toying with the feather and was now fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, a light flush blooming at the base of his neck that might’ve been from laughter, or something else.

You reached into the box again, half for distraction, half because you were starting to feel too still. Alright, what’s next? you muttered, pulling out a smooth, curved silicone object in pastel pink. You turned it over once, then twice, then just stared. Okay. No idea what this is. It looks like a spoon from the future. Chris leaned in, peering at it like it might read back to him. Is that… a tongue thing? Like, a licking simulator? His eyes widened. Is that a robot tongue? You were horrified and fascinated in equal measure. Why is it shaped like a ladle? What kind of tongue has depth?He tapped it against the counter experimentally. Maybe it’s for ice cream. Emotional support ice cream. You grinned, finally setting it down with caution. No way. That thing has main character energy. It vibrates, I promise you.

Everything in this box vibrates, he muttered, tossing aside a suspiciously shaped ring with flashing LED lights. This one looks like it’s powered by rage and the tears of failed exes. The heat was building again, subtle but steady, underneath the humor, under the dumb jokes and the silly guesses. That candy was doing something, slow and creeping, just a haze at the edges of your skin, a heightened awareness that made you notice things like how close Chris’s hands kept drifting when he leaned in to see what you were holding, how his voice had gone ever so slightly lower, more deliberate and the tension wasn’t sharp, not yet, just simmering, waiting, sitting between you like another item you hadn’t unboxed yet.

Still, you kept reaching for distraction. Okay, final item, you said, pulling out a silk ribbon with tiny loops sewn into the ends. This looks innocent. Like something from a bridal shower. Chris took it from you and raised an eyebrow. That’s a wrist restraint, he said, voice far too casual. That or a very dramatic headband. He stretched it between his hands thoughtfully. Also, very soft. That’s a plus. He toyed with it. What, are you rating these now? you teased, leaning back on your palms. Gonna start a blog? Chris’s Kink Korner?

He grinned without looking up. I mean, might as well. I’ve seen enough tonight to qualify for a part-time job at a sex museum. He met your eyes then, still playful, still amused, but lingering just a second longer than before, and suddenly you were both quiet again, not like before, but almost, a shift, just a breath deeper than the last.

Chris set the ribbon down like it might whisper something compromising if he held it too long, and then he dragged his fingers through his hair in that familiar way that always made him look effortlessly hot and vaguely distressed, like a model who’d just gotten bad news in a shampoo commercial. You watched him without meaning to—tracked the way his eyes flicked toward you and then away, the subtle clench in his jaw when he bit back a grin, the silence was friendly, mostly, but beneath it was that same low hum, the weird edge that had crept in with the candy, winding tighter every time your knees bumped or your laughter ran too long. Still, neither of you said anything about it. You just sat there, elbows on the counter, surrounded by silicone and satin and glittery wrappers, pretending you weren’t both just a little warmer than you should be.

So, he said finally, clearing his throat as he reached for another chocolate heart and inspected it with the vague suspicion of someone handling a live grenade, do we think these are actually, like, scientifically engineered? Or is this just placebo horniness? He tossed it into his mouth before you could warn him, chewing like it owed him an answer. You leaned over, one brow raised. I don’t think there’s any science involved in something called Velvet Ecstasy, Chris. That sounds like a band that opens for Boyz II Men at a Valentine’s Day concert.

He snorted, one hand over his mouth like he was trying to chew through regret. Okay, but real talk, my face is kind of tingly. Like... arousingly tingly, is that a thing? He blinked. Do you want it to be a thing? you countered, mostly to distract from the fact that your skin was buzzing too, in all the inconvenient places. Not hot, exactly, but sensitive, like your nerves had been turned up a click. You weren’t thinking about Chris touching you, not really—but you were starting to wonder what it might feel like if he did, purely for research.

I think I’m gonna sue whoever made these, he muttered, grabbing his water like it might help. Not because they’re dangerous, but because now I have questions about my body I didn’t need to have tonight. You laughed, still fiddling with the ribbon absentmindedly. Oh, come on, maybe it’s just psychosomatic. Like ghost horniness. He blinked at you. You’re not allowed to say ghost horniness in my kitchen, he said. There’s boundaries.

You held up your hands. Okay, fine. Let’s go back to identifying mystery toys. It’s safer. You leaned into the box again and pulled out something shaped like a cross between a banana and a lightsaber. It was smooth, lavender, slightly curved, and more menacing the longer you looked at it. Okay, you said, turning it in your hands. What is this and why do I feel like it knows my deepest secrets?

Chris took it from you slowly, brows lifted. I don’t know, but if this thing ever starts talking, I’m burning it. He pressed a button and it whirred to life with a low, oscillating hum that was alarming. He froze. Nope. No no. Why does it sound like it’s about to summon something? You were laughing so hard now that your stomach hurt again, that warm, sweet ache that felt like safety and something else you couldn’t quite name as you reached for the toy and turned it off before it could open a portal to hell. That’s going straight into the Oh My God pile. Chris nodded solemnly, setting it down between the feather and the spinning cactus. That pile’s getting a little too powerful.

And then, as if summoned by the room’s growing warmth or the subtle pull of that unspoken thread, he glanced over at you. Really looked, this time, not like a joke was coming, or a dare, or a one-liner. Just looked, and the moment slowed again, just briefly, not enough to be awkward, just long enough for something to flicker behind his eyes. This is kinda fun, huh? he said, voice lower now, a little more grounded. Like… I didn’t expect it to be fun. I thought it’d be weird.You tilted your head. It is weird.

Yeah, he said, grinning, but like… in a good way. You looked at the chaos around you, the melting chocolate wrappers, the haunted vibrator, the tiny cactus. And then back at him. Yeah, you said quietly. In a good way.

You didn’t mean to grab something interesting, honestly, you were just stalling, sifting through the half-empty box for the sake of momentum, for something dumb enough to laugh about again—something that didn’t taste like perfume or hum like a spaceship. But your fingers closed around a slim, rectangular box near the bottom, tucked beneath a foil packet that said Cupid’s Syrup in a font that made your stomach turn. You pulled it out, inspected the cover. Dare or Bare: A game for the emotionally unstable and mildly horny, it read in looping pink script.

You held it up. Okay, this one’s already threatening me personally. Chris leaned over, squinting. Dare or Bare? That sounds like something invented in a college dorm. He snatched the box from your hands and popped it open, rifling through the cards inside. Oh yeah. This one’s dangerous. I love it. He pulled out a random card and read aloud with mock drama: Let your partner kiss any body part of their choosing—or take a shot of tequila with Tabasco. He looked up, deadpan. Wow. Nothing like an ultimatum between physical vulnerability and gastrointestinal distress. You leaned in, intrigued now. Alright. So we’re just… doing dares or mildly stripping?

Not even mildly, he said, flipping another card. Remove one item of clothing—or let your partner ask any question and you have to answer honestly. You raised a brow. Okay, this just turned into Truth or Strip. Chris grinned, already pulling out the little spinner wheel that came with the set. Which, incidentally, is exactly the right level of emotional risk for a Wednesday night.

You both knew you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, there was just enough of that candy lingering in your bloodstream to make everything feel a little more fun than it should be, a little looser around the edges, like the world had slouched sideways and neither of you had the good sense to sit up straight. And now Chris was holding out the spinner, casual to a fault, like it wasn’t the gateway to imminent chaos, like the smooth way his thumb tapped against the plastic wasn’t betraying how eager he actually was to spin the whole night off its rails. His knee bumped against yours beneath the table, the faintest nudge, and you felt your own self-control slip another inch, your heartbeat knocking just a little faster as the room leaned into the kind of silence that always meant trouble. You exhaled, the word dragging out on the tail of your breath, Okay, okay, tugging your legs up onto the stool, folding them beneath you, settling in like you weren’t already standing at the edge of a very, very stupid decision. But we set rules.

Chris nodded, solemn in a way that barely contained the smirk threatening to pull at the corner of his mouth, his hands stretching out in a half-hearted peace offering, palms open, fingers twitching with barely concealed amusement. Obviously, he said, voice smooth, almost reasonable. No questions about exes. No dares involving bodily fluids. His gaze slid over to you, steady and sharp, waiting for you to tack on more boundaries, waiting to see just how far you’d go before you flinched. You lifted a brow, chin tilting slightly, deadpan. No removing pants. His lips twitched, and for a second you thought he might let it go, but his eyes flicked to yours, dark with that particular glint you knew too well, the one that always spelled trouble long before he ever opened his mouth. Speak for yourself, he muttered, the words low and half-swallowed, like he hadn’t meant them to slip out, but he did, and the air around you shifted, light and charged. Before you could swat at him, his fingers wrapped around the spinner and set it loose, the plastic clicking and ticking in sharp little bursts, both of you leaning in slightly, as if proximity might somehow influence fate, as if it wasn’t already too late for that.

The wheel slowed, the pointer stuttering over the final few notches before landing on a card marked with a flame, and Chris wasted no time plucking it up, turning it over in his hand with a kind of lazy confidence, the kind that always meant he was about to make things worse. His eyebrows lifted, mouth curling into something delightfully smug as he read the dare aloud. Let your partner sit in your lap for one minute — or send a risky text to the last person you slept with. His gaze drifted back to you, slow and deliberate, his eyes already laughing before his mouth had the chance to. He tilted his head, shoulders relaxing into the inevitable, and the grin that split across his face was all teeth and mischief, bright and boyish in the worst way. So. You wanna—?

Absolutely not, you snapped, reaching out before the words had even fully left your mouth, snatching the spinner from his hand, your fingers brushing his in the process, warm and steady and stupidly solid, like touching him didn’t already do enough damage on its own. His laugh was soft, a low sound that felt like the slow boil of something just beginning, and you pretended not to notice the way your pulse stumbled as you spun the wheel, watching it go around and around, the room tilting slightly with every click until the pointer landed, quiet and decisive, on a blue truth card.

You plucked it from the pile, trying for casual, clearing your throat as you read, the words catching somewhere halfway through. What’s something you’ve thought about doing with the person in front of you but never said out loud? The second the sentence hung between you, the air felt different, heavier, sharper, like the room itself was holding its breath. You didn’t look up right away, too aware of the sudden stillness that had settled over him, the faint, unspoken shift in the shape of his silence. When you finally raised your gaze, his eyes were already there waiting, wide and startled, his expression balanced precariously between a smile and a choke, like the game had finally outplayed him and for once he didn’t know whether to laugh or lie.

Well, he said slowly, one hand drifting to his jaw, thumb brushing along the edge in absent circles, his voice warm and dry like he was stalling for time, I was going to say ‘stealing your hoodies,’ but now I’m thinking this game has a vendetta. The corner of your mouth twitched, a smile threatening to tug loose despite the heat crawling up your neck, your fingers tightening slightly around the card, knuckles whitening with the effort it took to stay still. You’re allowed to say that. That’s harmless.

Oh, sure. His head tilted, eyes narrowing just enough to spark a different kind of tension, voice dipping a shade closer to the line between teasing and dangerous. But now it sounds like a metaphor. The air stretched thin between you, a taut string pulled tight, and you held his gaze a beat too long, the question still lingering, still open, still waiting. Your voice came quieter, softer, heavy with the dare you couldn’t swallow back. What were you actually going to say?

The hesitation barely lasted a second, but you felt it, the faint stutter in his breath, the twitch of his fingers tapping once, twice against his thigh, the way his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip like the answer sat there, sweet and sharp, waiting to cut. Then the smile came, small and sly, the kind of grin that always meant he was about to say something dangerous but not quite criminal, the kind of look that never failed to unravel you. Yeah, nah. I’m not touching that one, he murmured, voice a little lower, a little softer, thick with all the things he wasn’t saying. Spin again.

The next few rounds passed with the kind of laughter that made your cheeks hurt. Chris took his hoodie off when a card demanded it, revealing a tight black T-shirt underneath that you pretended not to notice and you admitted to having a weirdly vivid dream about him last year, though you refused to explain it. He let you draw a heart with whipped cream on the side of his neck as punishment for skipping a card about sending a flirty voice memo. You both agreed to burn the box afterward, and slowly, too slowly to catch until it was already happening, yyour laughter kept brushing up against something warmer. Something charged.

Then Chris drew another card, the motion slow, almost absent-minded, his fingers hesitating at the edges like his brain had only just caught up to the fact that he was still playing. The room had gone quiet again, thick with something that wasn’t quite laughter anymore, and when he flipped the card over his eyes flicked across the words, lingering there a moment too long, his mouth twitching with a sound that barely qualified as a laugh — more like a breath that got trapped on its way out. He didn’t look up. He just sat there, turning the card between his fingers, thumb brushing slow circles over the paper as though it might soften the meaning, as though it might change the rules if he waited long enough.

Okay. This one’s… another soft huff of air, that same laugh-shaped breath, one that had no place in the tightness of the room, Let your partner whisper something they’ve always wanted to do to you — into your ear. If they do, you each keep all your clothes on. If not, both lose one layer. The words hung there, suspended in the dim light, pressing in on both of you from all sides. Your heart stuttered, sharp and unsure, tripping over the space where it should’ve landed cleanly, and for a second you couldn’t tell if it had stopped or simply skipped so hard you’d missed the beat altogether.

Chris finally glanced up, the weight of the moment tipping his head slightly, his gaze flicking toward you with something more cautious, more careful than before, like he was testing the air between you before stepping into it, like he wasn’t sure if the ground had shifted or if he’d just imagined it. He held the card out toward you, his hand steady but his eyes not quite matching, and his voice came quieter now, lower, the kind of soft that people used when they were offering you an out. We can skip, he said, like the words were some kind of life raft. We probably should.

But you didn’t reach for the card, you didn’t move at all, just sat there, staring at him, watching the tension curl around the space where the game used to be, realizing somewhere between the silence and the shallow rise of his chest that the shift had already happened. It hadn’t been the card, or the chocolate, or the dares. It wasn’t the game, not really, it was the way his voice had changed when he said your name two dares ago, the way your knee had stayed pressed against his for far too long without either of you adjusting. Somewhere between the whipped cream and the fourth dare, you’d stopped pretending this wasn’t real.

Your lips curled, slow and reluctant, a smile so small it barely made it to the surface, like you were still deciding whether it was safe to let it stay. Cautious, measured, but there, all the same. Okay, you said, voice soft but steady, your head tilting slightly, inviting the rest of the moment to close the distance for you. Come here, then. And just like that, the room folded into itself, the noise bleeding away until all that was left was the sound of his breathing and the long, quiet stretch of space that had never felt so impossibly close.

Chris didn’t speak, didn’t joke or stall or give you the easy out he usually would’ve offered without thinking, he just looked at you like he was recalculating something, something important, and then stood slowly, that soft grin slipping into something quieter as he rounded the counter. His movements weren’t dramatic, but they felt louder than they should’ve been and you could hear the way his socked feet shifted across the tile, the faint creak of the stool beside yours as he took the seat, knees brushing yours for the second time tonight—but now it didn’t feel accidental, but a dare in itself.

He leaned in close, closer than he ever had, and that was saying something, and tipped his head so his mouth hovered near your ear. You caught the faintest hint of chocolate on his breath, still warm from laughing, and your body locked up like it had just remembered you were alive in real time. His hand braced gently on your thigh, not grabbing, just grounding, the kind of contact that made your thoughts scatter like marbles on a floor. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. I’ve thought about kissing you when you’re mid-laugh, he said, slow and steady, like each word had weight. Like… when your head tips back just a little, and your eyes get kind of shiny? I always wonder if you’d let me. Then silence. Not long, just enough, enough for you to feel it, really feel it, settling under your skin like warm water in your chest.

When he pulled back, he didn’t look triumphant or smug, he looked nervous, quiet, in a way you’d never really seen on him, like saying it had actually cost him something. You weren’t sure what your face was doing, but you knew you were blinking too much and swallowing like your mouth had suddenly forgotten how to be normal. Your pulse was doing gymnastics in your throat and you didn’t even realize your hand was still on your lap until your fingers twitched against the hem of your shirt. Chris cleared his throat and made a vague gesture toward the cards. So, uh. Technically I didn’t lose any clothing, so… I win, right? he said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You laughed, finally, but it came out a little breathless. That’s not how emotional nudity works. He smirked at that—your Chris again, quick and full of mischief—but there was something in his posture now, something more alert. He wasn’t hiding it anymore, neither were you as you reached for another card. It was just easier than speaking. Alright, you said, throat dry. Let’s level the playing field. You handed it to him. You read this one.

He took it, eyes flicking down. Then his eyebrows shot up. Lick something off your partner’s skin—or let them draw something NSFW on your body blindfolded. He glanced up, and this time, the tension didn’t creep in, it slammed. You sat perfectly still for a moment, like your body was trying to decide whether it was allowed to want anything in this room, then you leaned back slowly, tilting your head. What counts as NSFW? you asked. Your voice was too calm, it didn’t match the heat curling in your chest. Chris blinked at you, then laughed, surprised. Wow. We are really doing this. You nodded once. Apparently, we are. And there it was again, that pause, the one just before the shift.

Chris stared at the card like it was a prophecy, some kind of ridiculous challenge issued by the universe that he’d been accidentally training for his whole life without knowing. You watched the wheels turn behind his eyes, the quick flick of thought, mischief, restraint, something warmer. It hit you all at once how stupidly gorgeous he was—how annoyingly sharp his jaw looked from this angle, how his lashes curled just enough to make you resent the unfairness of genetics, how his lips were parted slightly, caught between a grin and something else, something quieter. Your stomach fluttered without your permission, not a dramatic swoop, but something real enough to make you fold your arms, like your body was trying to protect the thought from forming too clearly. Chris rubbed the back of his neck, leaned back on his stool, and blew out a breath that bordered on a groan. Okay. Listen. I’ve made a lot of questionable decisions in my life, but I don’t think I’ve ever licked something off a friend before. I feel like that’s a line you cross and never come back from. You tilted your head, barely suppressing a smile. So draw on me, then.

That’s somehow worse, he said, laughing under his breath. Because then I have to think about it. I have to picture it. That’s practically a creative writing assignment. You were already reaching for the whipped cream again, amused and reckless and not nearly as unaffected as you wanted to be. Okay, fine. I’ll go easy on you. Just a classic little doodle. Maybe a peach. A heart. A deeply disturbing banana. He groaned again, leaning forward until his elbows hit his knees and his hands dragged down his face. Jesus. You’re trying to kill me. This is murder. You breathed a laugh. You picked the card. No backing out now. you reminded him, already shaking the can. I didn’t pick it, he said, the devil did.

But he was smiling again, almost helplessly, the way he always did when he lost a bet, or a game, or his composure. And then he was sitting up straighter, pulling his shirt off without ceremony and tossing it over the back of the stool like it was no big deal, even though the muscles in his shoulders tensed as the cotton slid off. His chest was lean, warm-toned, familiar in that distant way, something you’d seen before, at pools or late nights or friend group sleepovers, but never quite like this. Never under lighting this soft, never while his eyes locked on yours.

You swallowed once, then motioned for him to turn around a little and he did, back to you now, the ridge of his spine shifting subtly as he leaned forward. You knelt behind him on the stool, bracing one hand on his shoulder to keep your balance, the other holding the can like a paintbrush. You hesitated, then pressed the nozzle gently against the space just beneath his shoulder blade, drawing a lopsided heart that began to melt almost immediately against his skin. Jesus, it’s cold. Chris twitched. Yeah, well, you murmured, leaning closer without meaning to, you’re warm.

You hadn’t meant it to sound like that, not really, not like it meant something but the words hung there between you anyway, soft and weightless and still somehow too heavy, stretched thin with all the things you weren’t saying. He didn’t answer, didn’t shift, didn’t even lift his head. He just stayed where he was, sitting perfectly still, his shoulders faintly rigid, his head bowed slightly like the air had changed and he was bracing for it, like your fingertips brushing across his skin were doing far more than they should for something so innocent. You leaned back a fraction, putting just enough space between you to breathe, eyes flicking over the smudged, sticky shape left behind on his shoulder, the uneven edge of it catching in the dim light. There, you murmured, clearing your throat around the sudden dryness that wasn’t there before, All done. You’re a masterpiece. It came out lighter than you felt, thin and a little off-balance, but you let it stand.

That’s… generous, he muttered, voice dipping rough and quiet, glancing over his shoulder at you, his mouth twitching but not quite forming a full smile. I’m not even gonna ask what it’s supposed to be. His eyes lingered on yours a little too long, like he already knew, or like he was trying not to guess.

You pushed off the edge of the stool, hands brushing down your thighs as you reached for a napkin, trying and failing to rub the sugar from your fingertips, the stickiness clinging stubbornly no matter how many times you swiped. A melting heart, you offered, casual but quiet, the words folding smaller as you spoke them. Very symbolic. He raised both brows, slow and questioning, like he could already feel the shift tightening between you. Oh?

Yeah, you said, the shape of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth but never quite making it there. It’s about two people getting in way over their heads with a stupid game. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t empty. You were halfway back around the counter, trying to smooth your expression into something neutral, when his voice caught you, low, steady, a little too careful. Can I try mine now? The question stalled you mid-step, your pulse giving a sharp, unsteady kick as you turned back to face him. Your what?

My turn, he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if the ground hadn’t shifted at all. His gaze held yours, quiet and steady. The other option. Your breath hitched, barely enough to notice but enough for him to see. You blinked once. You want to lick—

No, he said, and the word softened under the weight of the small, crooked smile that followed. But I want to try something. Something not on the card. His voice wasn’t teasing anymore, not sharp or playful the way it had been earlier, just soft, softer than you’d expected, like he was already halfway past pretending and before you could ask what he meant, before you could even reach for the space to wonder, he stepped toward you, slow and careful, his body shifting like he was moving through deep water, like every inch forward was measured and deliberate, like he was giving you every second you needed to stop him. His hand found your wrist, light, barely there, just enough to guide, not enough to hold, and the way he touched you wasn’t reckless or bold or rushed. It was quiet, sure, almost tender, like maybe the game had ended a long time ago, and neither of you had noticed until now.

It should’ve felt too intimate, too sharp, but it didn’t. It just felt like gravity, like momentum that had been building long before this night, long before the chocolates or the spinning wheel or the whipped cream heart dissolving on his back. You swallowed, but your throat stayed dry. This part of the game has no rules, he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, as he pulled you toward him with no real urgency. So technically we can do whatever we want. That made you laugh, breathy and strained. Pretty sure that’s exactly how people ruin friendships. He tilted his head. Or evolve them. You rolled your eyes, too fast, too nervous. Alright, Plato. Just tell me what I’m agreeing to.

He didn’t answer, just looked down, then back up, something unreadable working in the line of his jaw. Then, with a low hum of resignation, he reached for the whipped cream again and held it out like a truce offering. You blinked at it. You’re kidding. Chris just raised his brows. Game’s still on, right?

That was the out, right there, you could’ve said no, could’ve laughed it off, blamed the sugar and the cards and the tension and gone right back to sorting ridiculous plastic toys with your clothes on and your friendship intact, but you didn’t. You took the can, slowly. Where? you asked, and your voice sounded foreign in your throat—too soft, too steady. He watched you for a second, then stepped closer, close enough to touch, close enough that you had to tilt your chin a little to keep eye contact. Anywhere, he said. Dealer’s choice.

You should’ve picked somewhere safe, his forearm, his collarbone, maybe even the ridiculous whipped cream heart that was half-faded now on his shoulder, but your hand moved before your brain caught up, and you tapped the can gently against the center of his sternum, just above the hem of his shirtless chest. You sprayed a small dollop there, round and ridiculous, already softening with his body heat. This is getting weird, you muttered. Chris’s voice was lower now, the kind of voice that only existed in quiet rooms and slowed time. It’s just the game.

You nodded, like that made sense. Like you weren’t very much aware of the fact that he was about to lick something off his own chest because you’d put it there. But he didn’t. Not exactly. Instead, he looked at you once more, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes, then reached for your wrist again, guiding your hand forward, slowly, toward the spot you’d just marked. Here, he said. You do it. Your mouth went dry. Chris. He didn’t drop your gaze. It’s just the game.

And that was all it took, one more silent agreement, one more shrug of permission between two people pretending they weren’t doing exactly what they’d always said they wouldn’t. You stepped in, leaned forward, pressed your hands lightly against his chest to steady yourself, fingertips grazing the edge of the spot. And before you could overthink it, your mouth was there, warm, quick, tongue barely flicking the cream away before retreating again. He didn’t move, but he exhaled sharply through his nose, like the restraint cost him something. You stepped back slowly, suddenly aware of the way your palms still rested on his skin, the way the space between you didn’t quite cool. That’s not how you play this game, you said, a little breathless. He didn’t smile. No, he said. It’s not.

You turned toward the box again, desperate for distraction, for something—anything—to do with your hands, and grabbed the nearest toy without looking. It was a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, the metal heavy and cold and absurd between your fingers. Great, you muttered, holding them up. Finally, something wholesome. Chris laughed, that low familiar chuckle that made your stomach pull tight. You planning on arresting me for inappropriate gameplay? You tossed them at him. Don’t tempt me.

Chris tested the hinge of the handcuffs like he was auditioning for the world’s softest dominatrix-themed magic act, giving them a little dramatic shake before clicking the second cuff around his own wrist. Well, he said, lifting your joined hands up between you with a sage nod, I hope you weren’t planning on using the bathroom anytime soon. You raised a brow. You’ve chained us together and you didn’t ask for consent. Wow. I’m calling HR.

That’s fine, he said, gesturing with his free hand toward the mess of glittery boxes and melted chocolate casualties strewn across the counter. I think the entire bachelorette planning committee resigned three dares ago. Honestly, we deserve it, you said, giving the cuffs a little tug, He grinned, that boyish, bright kind of grin that always made you feel like you were about to get in trouble in a fun way. You realize we’re stuck like this until someone finds the key?

What do you mean someone? you asked, your voice pitching up just slightly, the first flicker of mild alarm tightening your throat. Your gaze snapped toward him, watching his face carefully. Did you already lose it? Chris blinked, a beat too slow, too casual to be believable. No? His mouth twitched, like the lie tasted funny even to him. You narrowed your eyes, tipping your head, waiting. That wasn’t very convincing.

Okay, maybe it fell under the couch when I was opening the box, he admitted, lifting his hands in mock surrender, but let’s not panic— You let out a sharp gasp, grabbing his arm in theatrical betrayal, your fingers curling tight around his sleeve. Christopher Bahng. He froze for half a second, lips twitching at the edges before he tilted his head at you. You never use my full name unless you’re mad or drunk. The words came out flat, dry, a little too honest. I’m both.

That did it — he cackled, the sound bursting out of him unrestrained as he doubled over, the handcuffs at your wrists tugging tight with every movement, your balance shifting closer as the chain shortened the space between you. His laughter only grew harder at the sight of your unimpressed glare. This is exactly the kind of chaos our friends would expect from us. I’m gonna give the toast at their wedding like, ‘Remember that time we accidentally handcuffed ourselves together and emotionally compromised your bachelor party plans?’

You raised your wrist, the weight of the cuffs tilting your arm slightly, metal cool and unyielding against your skin. And they’ll be like, ‘Yes, because we had to saw you apart with a bread knife,’ you deadpanned, your fingers flexed, testing the give — there was none. How do these feel both flimsy and unbreakable? Chris straightened, still slightly breathless, the warmth of his grin lingering even as his voice dipped into mock wisdom. That’s the magic of cheap kink gear, he said sagely, his thumb brushing along the edge of the cuff where it sat against his own wrist, the lightest of touches betraying just how aware he was of it.

You gave the cuffs another gentle tug, testing the play in the chain, and when you moved, Chris moved with you, closer, unintentionally, until the length between your bodies evaporated into heat and breath and proximity so palpable it felt engineered. It should’ve felt awkward, but it didn’t, just heavier than it should’ve as quiet crept back in, slow and sudden, and the laughter stuttered between you like it had been knocked sideways. You both stilled, just for a second, just long enough.

You felt him first—the way his chest rose unevenly, like he was holding in a breath without realizingl then the weight of his gaze on your mouth, brief but sharp, gone again before you could read it. Your linked wrists hovered between you, hands tangled in a strange, quiet knot, and you realized you’d both stopped pretending this was just a bit. There was no punchline now, no safe word for what this had become, only that quiet, gut-deep awareness that you’d crossed into something neither of you had named yet.

Chris didn’t move, but something about him had shifted, shoulders squared but not in defense, mouth parted but unreadable, like he was waiting for a sign you didn’t know you were supposed to give. Your gaze flicked down, just for a breath, to his lips, just curiosity, you told yourself, just a reflex, just— His voice, when it came, was barely more than a whisper. If I kiss you right now, he said, still not moving, we’ll have to blame the game. You didn’t speak, too startled by the clarity of it, by how your body suddenly felt light and weighted at once. Do you want to? you asked. And your voice didn’t even wobble.

He didn’t answer, not with words, just leaned in slow, careful, like a hand reaching into fire to test for heat. He didn’t close the distance all the way, just enough that you could feel the breath between you change, that warm, syrupy tension pulled taut as a wire, your noses almost brushing, your mouths aligned in the kind of delicate stand-off that shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it did. And then, of course, your cuffs slipped, just a little, a clumsy, stupid jolt as your linked hands dropped between you, and your shoulders crashed forward. Your forehead bumped his chin, and Chris yelped like he’d been tased. Ow—fuck—my jaw.

You stumbled back, laughing so hard your lungs burned, the sound shaking through you as you doubled over, your cuffed hands pressed tight to your ribs like they were the only thing holding you together. Oh my god—did I break your face? Chris groaned, one hand dragging over his jaw, fingers testing the spot where your heads had collided, but there was more amusement than injury in his eyes. No, but we definitely broke the moment, he managed, lips quirking crookedly. That was almost hot, you know. I was gonna go for like, a cinematic-level kiss.

You looked like you were trying to taste my soul, you wheezed, struggling to catch your breath between fits of laughter. I was scared. He snorted, the sound dissolving into more laughter, his head tipping back slightly, cheeks pink and voice still a little breathless. You should be. That much sexual tension should be a controlled substance.

The room slowly quieted around the tail-end of your laughter, the sound fading but the glow of it still lingering between you, leaving you both breathless and dumb and bright with it, but the air hadn’t quite gone back to normal, not entirely. That almost-kiss hung there, weighty and unspoken, suspended in the quiet space between your smiles, between the clumsy press of your cuffed wrists and the way neither of you had stepped back for real. Because you both knew exactly what had almost happened, and neither of you had pulled away.

Chris didn’t try to smooth it over with a joke this time, not right away. He just stood there, hand still absently rubbing at his jaw, mouth parted slightly like he was still thinking about where yours had been a moment ago. The laughter faded between you, trailing off into a soft, breathy kind of hush, not uncomfortable, but aware, a quiet that buzzed around your skin like static, humming beneath the shallow rhythm of your breathing. You were still cuffed together, hands awkwardly joined at your sides, like the game hadn’t quite let go of you yet, like it was still watching, waiting, pressing at your backs with a nudge and a smirk and the kind of permission neither of you wanted to admit you wanted.

Well, Chris said finally, his voice low and rough, like he hadn’t quite caught his breath. That went almost exactly how I planned. You snorted softly, eyes fixed on the floor. What part? The sexual tension or the headbutt? He grinned at that, the edge of it a little crooked. Ideally, less dental trauma. But otherwise? I’d say we’re right on schedule. You lifted your cuffed wrists between you with a wry twist of your mouth. Schedule for what, exactly?

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at your joined hands, then at you, then down again, like he was thinking way too hard about something that should’ve been stupidly simple. Nothing, he said. It’s just the game. Right? You nodded once, too quickly. Obviously. Nothing weird is happening.

Totally normal amount of eye contact, he agreed.

And tension.

And proximity.

And thoughts that we’re absolutely not having.

Exactly.

You stood there in silence for another beat, too long, too loaded, the air straining under the weight of everything neither of you were saying. Then, as if some invisible wire finally snapped, you both lunged for the game box at the same time, hands colliding mid-air with a soft, clumsy smack. New card, you both blurted in unison, voices a little too bright, a little too rushed, like kids caught sneaking candy before dinner, scrambling to cover the evidence.

Chris reached it first, fingers closing around the stack with theatrical triumph, and with an exaggeratedly solemn voice, he plucked a card free and read: Feed your partner something without using your hands. You blinked, staring at him, the words landing hard enough to make your pulse skip. This game is trying to kill us. He nodded, lips pressed together in mock gravity, though his eyes still danced. It’s sentient and wants us dead.

But even as the joke lingered, his gaze drifted toward the counter, scanning the scattered wreckage of snacks like he was actually weighing the options, fingers twitching slightly where they hung from the cuffs. There was something about the way he looked so focused, so casually unbothered, that sent another ripple of nerves straight through you. Okay, he murmured, still surveying the damage. What do we have left that won’t immediately make me look like I have a food kink? You gestured lazily toward the closest optio, a slumped, half-melted square of chocolate beside the game box. This seems least awful. Chris grimaced, nose wrinkling. It’s literally melting. That’s gonna be disgusting.

Then pick something else, you shot back, still lingering somewhere between laughter and something far more dangerous. You have teeth. Figure it out. That crooked, slow-burning grin started creeping onto his face, his eyes locking onto yours, sharp and playful and unmissably charged. Do not tell me to figure it out while we’re handcuffed. That’s not fair.

You should’ve rolled your eyes, should’ve shoved his shoulder and kept the banter going, but your laugh came a little too soft, a little too breathless, and your chest felt light in a way that had nothing to do with the sugar anymore. He kept looking at you—really looking, gaze lingering like he was learning new parts of you by accident, or maybe on purpose and then, without bothering to be subtle, he leaned forward, picked up the drooping piece of chocolate with his mouth, clamping it between his teeth, and tilted his head at you. You froze, the moment crystallizing around you, sharp and too sweet. Chris.

Mhm? he hummed, lips barely parting around the piece of chocolate.

You look like you’re about to kiss me. Not feed me. There’s a difference. His eyes flicked down, catching on your mouth, hovering there like gravity had its own ideas. Doesn’t have to be, he murmured, voice low and thick behind the chocolate. That shut you up, cut clean through your defenses, right to the part of you that had stopped pretending this was just a game hours ago. You stepped forward before your mind could catch up, letting instinct fill the gap, noses brushing, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, the scent of chocolate sharp and rich and unbearably soft between you. His lashes dipped low, eyes half-lidded, restraint hanging by a thread.

And then, slow, slower than either of you meant for it to be, your lips brushed his. Barely, a whisper of a kiss, light enough to question if it even happened at all, stolen through sugar and bad timing and the kind of mutual impulse that made your heart feel like it wasn’t yours anymore. He didn’t deepen it, didn’t push, just lingered there, close enough to still feel your mouth, the chocolate long forgotten, your hands tangled helplessly between you, the cuffs a cold reminder at your wrists. When he finally exhaled, it sounded like he’d been holding that breath for hours. Still the game, he whispered, voice too soft, too strained. But this time, not even he sounded like he believed it.

It wasn’t even a decision, not really. One second, you were standing there with your mouths barely brushing, your hands tangled between you and your breath too loud in your own ears, and the next, something in both of you gave way, like gravity just tipped the wrong direction. Like the joke had run its course and now all that was left was the answer that had been humming beneath every dare, every glance, every breathless laugh.

Chris kissed you like he’d been waiting to do it for years—no hesitation, no teasing, no half-measures. Just full contact, lips parted, tongue pressing past yours with a heat that startled something loose in your chest. You made a noise you didn’t recognize, sharp and soft at once, and he swallowed it, one hand still caught in the cuffs and the other coming up to cup your jaw, gentle in a way that contrasted the hunger behind it. There was nothing casual about it, nothing safe, he kissed like he meant it, like this wasn’t part of the game anymore.

The chocolate was gone in seconds, melted somewhere between your teeth and his, but neither of you noticed. All you could register was the taste of sugar and sin and him, his mouth warm, insistent, moving against yours like he was trying to memorize the shape of you from the inside. His body pressed closer, one step forward, and your backs hit the edge of the counter, he didn’t pull away, just angled his head, deepened the kiss, and groaned low when you leaned into it. Your cuffed hands twisted between you, caught in the fabric of his jeans now, tangled in the ridiculous pink fuzz and his body heat and the rising tension you couldn’t laugh off anymore. Your knees buckled slightly, not because he was forcing anything, but because your whole body felt like it was pulsing under your skin, like the air had thickened, like every brush of his mouth sent another wave of warmth sinking deep, curling low in your stomach.

And god, the aphrodisiacs. You hadn’t noticed them at first—had been too busy joking, dodging tension, pretending you were immune—but now it was like every nerve in your body had a direct line to your skin. Everything felt too sharp, too good, his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingertips threading into your hair, and it sent a shiver down your spine so strong you gasped into his mouth. Chris groaned again at that, breath hitching, and his free arm curled around your waist, pulling you flush against him like he needed to feel you without even thinking about it. The heat was unbearable, or maybe it was perfect, you couldn’t tell anymore.

You pulled back just a little, just enough to look at him, to see the flushed tilt of his mouth, the blown-wide pupils, the stunned expression barely softened by whatever restraint he was still clinging to. He was breathing hard, so were you, your hearts were practically racing in sync. You… You could barely find the words, lips swollen, throat dry. That wasn’t the card. Chris looked at you like you’d told him the sky was red. I don’t care. You blinked, dazed. You’re supposed to care.

He laughed once, short, breathless, a little shaky. I think I stopped caring somewhere between the chocolate and the part where you made that noise. You opened your mouth to fire back something clever, but nothing came out. Your head was spinning, your body was buzzing, everything under your skin was burning slow and hot and deep.

He didn’t kiss you again, not yet, but he didn’t back away either. Just stayed close, forehead brushing yours, the cuffs between you pulled tight, still locked, still binding. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a furnace, could feel his thigh pressed hard against yours, the subtle shift of muscle as he tried, tried, not to let it all go. Still blaming the game? you whispered, barely able to hear yourself. Chris nodded once, slow and quiet, like the movement cost him. If I stop, I won’t stop.

And you believed him. It happened the way everything else had, with momentum instead of permission, like the moment already existed and all you had to do was step into it. Chris looked at you like he didn’t know where to start and also like he’d already decided, his hand, still tethered to yours, twisted slightly so your fingers slid between his, and the intimacy of that one tiny motion almost undid you. You leaned in at the same time he did, mouths crashing together again, and this time there was no pretending, no joke to hide behind, no breath left to spare for denial.

His tongue met yours with more urgency, more heat, and your back arched as he pushed into you, his free hand landing on your hip with enough pressure to make you gasp. You felt it, how hard he was, how ready, and when your hips accidentally brushed his, both of you let out these quiet, ragged sounds, like you couldn’t believe it was actually happening. The counter behind you dug into your spine, but you didn’t care when all you could feel was him, his mouth, his hands, the way he kept shifting like he wanted more contact and didn’t know how to get it fast enough. Your cuffed hands fought for space between you, tugging, fumbling at his waistband like you were both half-drunk on sugar and whatever the hell was laced into those ridiculous party favors.

Chris’s lips trailed down your jaw, his breath warm against your skin, before his teeth scraped lightly over your neck. A soft whimper escaped you before you could stop it, the sound vibrating in your throat. This is a bad idea, you breathed, the words leaving your lips breathless, but your hands were already tugging at his shirt, already letting him press closer, feeling the heat of him between your legs. Terrible idea, he muttered against your skin, voice wrecked and raw, as if he were barely holding it together. The worst.

You swallowed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You’re supposed to be the best man, you whispered, voice faltering under the weight of the situation. And you’re the maid of honor, he replied, his lips dragging back up to yours, the kiss deepening instantly. This is just… diplomacy. You couldn’t help but laugh, a helpless, delirious sound, your body moving before you even meant to, grinding up into him, your hips jerking instinctively. You’re such a shit.

And you like it, he groaned, kissing you again, deeper this time, full of heat, all tongue and teeth, the urgency between you overwhelming. His hand grabbed your ass, pulling you closer, making your breath catch painfully in your chest. Jesus, you like it.

You moaned in response, the sound thick and raw, because you couldn’t think anymore. Everything was blurring, your thighs parting around him, the roll of his hips against yours, the way your wrists were pinned between your bodies like you couldn’t possibly separate even if you tried, every inch of you felt like it was reaching for him, your skin burning under the pressure, every inhale soaked in him, his scent, his heat. There was no slow build now—just sharp, desperate movement, your body clinging to his like it already knew the shape of this, like it had always known.

Chris’s hand was under your shirt before you could even register it, his callused palm dragging up your stomach with deliberate slowness and when his thumb found your nipple through your bra, you gasped so loud it bounced off the kitchen walls, sharp and needy. Fuck, he muttered, breath shaking, his forehead pressing against yours again, the tension crackling between you like static. Tell me to stop. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You’re the one who started this.

I didn’t think you’d let me. His voice was hoarse, raw, barely contained. I didn’t think I’d want to. He stilled, his eyes searching yours in the dim light, chest heaving with every shallow breath. So what now? he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with anticipation. We just—fuck each other in the middle of the bachelor party planning?

You kissed him again, silencing any more words with the press of your lips, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth, just to feel him shudder, the pulse of his body under yours. I mean… we’ve done worse. He laughed then, but it was barely a sound, cracked open, raw, real. You’re high on sex chocolate. You nodded, your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt. And you’re handcuffed to me. He tilted his head slightly, his voice darkening with a teasing edge. I’m never getting out of these, am I?

Not if you keep touching me like that.

The words hung there, a challenge, a promise until his mouth was on yours again, and you weren’t laughing anymore. Just breathing hard, just moaning into each other, already half-undressed, already lost. The last thing you heard before you lost the thread completely was Chris whispering against your lips, Still blaming the game, like it was the only thing holding him together. And maybe it was, maybe it was the only thing holding both of you together, or maybe, just maybe, you’d already given in.

You didn’t even make it out of the kitchen, the counter cold under your thighs, your jeans halfway undone, the hem of your shirt bunched up around your ribs where Chris had pushed it earlier in a moment of hunger he hadn’t even tried to disguise. His hands were everywhere, broad palms dragging slow and deliberate over your sides, your thighs, the small of your back. His lips were red, kiss-bitten, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon, and the way he kept looking at you made it feel like your body was something he’d just discovered and now couldn’t stop needing to learn. But still, somehow, you hadn’t quite crossed that last line, your clothes partly on, your bodies caught in that hazy, frayed edge of foreplay where nothing had been decided but everything was possible, which, naturally, is when Chris spotted the bottle.

It was small and pink, the label curling at the edges like it had been sitting in the box too long, a little faded and worn. He picked it up with two fingers, like it might explode at any second. Okay. What the hell is this? His voice was laced with both curiosity and hesitation, the mystery of it hanging heavy in the air between you as you blinked down at it, still breathless, your heart thudding in your ears, the buzz of adrenaline mixing with something hotter. I think it’s… a warming gel? you ventured, unsure, but intrigued by the way the bottle seemed to pulse with its own promise.

Chris turned the bottle slowly in his hand, squinting at the text. ‘For use on sensitive areas. Results may vary. Not for the faint of heart.’ He looked up at you, his brows raised in disbelief, and then a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. That sounds ominous as fuck. You leaned in, your voice low and teasing. Sounds like a dare. Your eyes narrowed playfully, a dangerous spark igniting between you. Chris smirked again, his gaze full of challenge. Everything with you is a dare lately. The way his words dropped between you felt like an invitation, one you couldn't ignore as you grabbed the bottle from him with your cuffed hand, your fingertips brushing his in the process, just skin on skin, but it felt like a match striking, sparking something fierce and immediate. We’re already doomed. Might as well commit, you muttered, your voice thick with something that bordered on reckless.

Chris watched you uncork the bottle, his expression shifting to one of fascinated dread, the kind usually reserved for horror movies or impossible deadlines. What’re you gonna do, just… slap it on my neck and hope for the best? he asked, voice a little tight, like he was already regretting this. You shrugged, your lips curving into something mischievous. Unless you’d prefer I go for, like, direct application.

His mouth fell open slightly, eyes wide with disbelief. You're insane, he whispered, his voice catching in the back of his throat, the words laced with a mix of teasing and something darker. You laughed, but your cheeks burned with the weight of your own words. I’m kidding. Mostly.

Still, the curiosity was stronger than either of you expected as you squeezed a little of the gel onto your fingertips and, without overthinking it, reached for his collar. Your fingers brushed against the soft fabric, pulling it aside to smear the gel across the warm skin of his chest, just above his collarbone. He hissed—not in pain, but surprise—and his hand twitched against your hip like you’d just shot electricity through his veins. Holy shit, he muttered, blinking rapidly, his voice rough and unsteady. That’s—uh. That’s definitely not faint. You leaned back, studying him with a mix of fascination and amusement. Is it burning?

No, it’s like—fuck, it’s warm. Like really warm. And kinda… tingly? But not in a bad way. Just in a… He trailed off, his voice taking on a husky edge, low and uncertain. Okay, now I’m scared to know what it does to, like, actual sensitive areas. His eyes were dark, his pulse quickening and you raised an eyebrow, wickedly amused. So we’re not doing a field test? you asked, the words dripping with challenge, the air thick with anticipation.

Chris gave you a look, half impressed, half terrified, that made your stomach tighten in ways you didn’t expect. I don’t know whether to kiss you or sue you, he muttered, his voice rough with the mix of amusement and tension. You dipped your finger in the gel again, this time dragging it lightly along the inside of his wrist, just below where the cuff bit into his skin. He exhaled sharply, the sound a soft, jagged gasp that made your thighs clench, and his body jerked like he couldn’t control the reaction. Jesus, this is evil, he groaned, his voice trembling, heavy with both pleasure and disbelief.

Pretty sure this is what witches used in medieval times, you whispered, leaning in close enough that your breath ghosted across the skin of his neck, just below his ear. Bet you feel it everywhere now. You pressed your lips just below his ear, feeling the shudder that ran through him at your touch, the tremor in his body unmistakable. I do, he groaned, his voice cracking at the edges. It’s like—fuck, you don’t feel that? His eyes were on yours now, pupils dilated, his breath ragged as his entire focus locked onto you.

You raised a brow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. I haven’t tried it yet. Your voice was slow, deliberate, the words slipping out like a dare of their own. His eyes snapped to yours, dark and swimming with something you couldn’t quite name. Do it, he said, barely more than a whisper, the words laced with desire and something dangerous. I dare you.

Your heart punched your ribs, and before you could stop yourself, you were sliding your free hand up under your own shirt, smearing a dab of the gel just beneath your bra, right over your sternum. The warmth bloomed almost immediately—subtle at first, then sharper, like the touch of his tongue had been replaced with slow, creeping fire. Your mouth fell open, a soft moan slipping out before you could catch it, and Chris’s reaction was instant, his hips bucked forward, like the sound of you unraveling was too much. Okay, he rasped, watching your face with something dangerously close to reverence. That’s it. That’s illegal. That sound. You laughed, breathless, dragging your hand down to grab his shirt. The game made me do it. Chris leaned in again, kissing you like he meant to ruin you for every other person who’d ever tried. Then let’s keep playing.

It spiraled in the way only things with too much tension and too little denial ever could. The kiss deepened immediately, messier this time, less polished, tongue, teeth, a quiet gasp swallowed between mouths that couldn’t get enough. Your cuffed hands twisted in the space between your bodies, useless and clumsy but still greedy, and Chris didn’t seem to care, his fingers spread wide against your thigh, dragging up, up, until they found the curve of your hip and pulled you flush to the heat of him, hard and insistent through denim. The movement made you moan again, soft, wrecked, and the sound drew another kiss from him, open-mouthed and unrestrained, like he was trying to answer it with his body. The gel still burned gently where you’d touched it, a slow ember low in your sternum, and the warmth seemed to echo, to chase itself through every place his hands found.

He broke the kiss only long enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you panting like you’d been running. I don’t know if it’s the chocolate, or the game, or just—fuck—it’s you, but I can’t stop. Your voice came out rough, ruined. Then don’t.

Chris kissed you again, slower now but deeper, and you could feel the way the air shifted between you—less chaos, more control, but only just. You arched into his body as he finished unbuttoning your jeans with his free hand, his fingers fumbling slightly but determined, like he couldn’t not try. You could feel how badly he wanted it, and it lit something in you that went straight to your core and still, even now, there was a layer of ridiculousness to it all—the way your arms kept getting tangled, the absurd pink cuffs tugging at your balance, the scattered game cards still spread across the counter beside you. He was halfway through sliding your zipper down when he paused, breathing heavy, and glanced at one of the cards lying crooked beside your leg.

Okay, he said, voice hoarse, like he was struggling to catch his breath, his eyes flickered to the card in your hand. Tell me you didn’t plant this. You blinked down at the card, the words staring back at you like a joke you weren’t sure you wanted to get. ‘Give your partner a lap dance.’ You burst into laughter, the sound shaky and breathless, but the moment it escaped, a moan hitched in your throat when his fingers accidentally brushed too close to the waistband of your underwear. The heat from his touch lingered there, making everything a little sharper, a little more aware. That’s not even physically possible right now. You laughed again, but it sounded more like an exhale than anything else.

I mean, Chris said, voice dropping into that teasing tone that had been there all night, eyes darting down to where your thighs were still wrapped around him, define ‘lap.’ His grin was smug, a little too confident for your liking, but you couldn’t ignore the way his words made your pulse trip a little faster. You narrowed your eyes at him. I swear to god, if you make a stripper joke right now—

Hey, I’m just respecting the integrity of the game. You shoved at his chest, laughing, but the motion just made your hips grind into his, and whatever grin he’d had faltered immediately. His hands gripped your waist like he needed the grounding, like he was holding on to the last sliver of control, and when you looked at him again, really looked, you realized how thin the line was beneath all the jokes. He was flushed, breathless, jaw tight like he was holding himself back with both hands and losing the grip second by second. Okay, he murmured, voice dangerously quiet now. Tell me if you want me to stop. You didn’t even hesitate. I want you to keep going.

The shift was subtle but irreversible. His hand slid under your waistband, the heat of him stealing into the place you’d started to ache, his fingers moving slow, deliberate, teasing. You gasped, clutching at his shoulder, your cuffed wrists making the angle awkward but not impossible, and Chris groaned softly at the sound of you breaking again. You’re so wet, he whispered, eyes locked to yours. Fuck. Was it me or the gel? You couldn’t answer, not properly.

Does it matter? He smiled then, slow and devastating, like he knew the answer, like he didn’t care either way, and bent to kiss the edge of your jaw, trailing his mouth down to your neck. It’s the game, he whispered, against your pulse. It’s definitely the game, you echoed, even as your head tipped back, hips rocking into the press of his hand.

Neither of you believed it anymore.

Chris didn’t rush and that was the part that undid you, really—not the heat, not the jokes, not even the cuffs biting gently into your skin. It was the fact that, once he had you squirming and gasping and whispering his name through your teeth, he slowed down. Like he wanted to feel every second of it, like he'd been dying to do this and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity by rushing through the best part. His fingers stroked low, slow, maddening, just enough to tease, to draw that unbearable ache into something sharp and consuming, but not enough to tip you over, and the whole time, his mouth never left your skin. He kissed the hollow of your throat like it was sacred, licked just below your ear like he wanted to ruin you with subtlety, not force as you tangled your hands in the front of his shirt, or tried to, the cuffs making it awkward, ridiculous, but somehow more intimate, like even your restraint was shared now. I can’t— you gasped, hips bucking up against his hand, —I can’t think when you do that. Chris just smiled against your neck. Good.

Asshole.

Yeah. He glanced up at you, his expression half-wrecked and fully focused. But I’m your asshole right now, aren’t I?

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out, wild and breathless, and Chris grinned against your skin like he’d scored a point. It wasn’t supposed to be funny, none of this was supposed to be anything, you were supposed to be planning a party, you were supposed to be friends, but here you were—his fingers inside you now, slow and careful, coaxing little moans out of your mouth like he’d found a new language and wanted to learn every word. You rocked into his hand without thinking, chasing friction, chasing him, and it hit you all over again: this was Chris. Your Chris, the same one who’d spent years making fun of your terrible coffee habits and sending you cursed memes at 3 a.m, the one who'd picked you up from your worst dates and made you laugh until you cried, and now he was here, in your space, in your body, undoing you with a touch that felt more reverent than reckless.

You caught his eye again, dark, heated, a little stunned, and something in both of you slipped. You should try something, you whispered, trying to find steady ground and failing. You know. For science. Chris cocked an eyebrow, fingers curling just right. Are you offering?

I mean… Your breath hitched. We have, like, an entire box to get through. He kissed you once, slow and hot, then pulled back with a crooked smile. That’s true. Wouldn’t want to waste the budget. You half-laughed, half-moaned, and reached awkwardly for the box with your limited range of motion, dragging it closer along the counter with the heel of your hand. Chris kept his fingers moving—lazy, deliberate—while you fumbled through plastic-wrapped nonsense and tiny bottles with blurry labels. You found something round, neon pink, and utterly confusing.

Chris tilted his head, gaze fixed on the object in your hand like it was a riddle he didn’t want to solve, the teasing grin still there. Honestly? I have no fucking clue. His voice was soft, but the words had weight, like you were both caught in something that was spinning too fast for either of you to control. You squinted at the tag, still not quite believing what you were reading. Vibrating tongue ring. You said it with the same detached humor you tried to put into the rest of this ridiculous situation, but you both knew this wasn’t just a joke anymore. A heavy silence hung between you, and then—

Oh, absolutely not, Chris said, his grin widening into something darker, more dangerous, like he was daring you to make him. You stared at him, biting back a grin that threatened to spill over, fighting against the absurdity of the moment. You scared?

I’m not putting that anywhere near my mouth after it’s been in this box, he muttered, half-disgusted, half-amused, but even through the playful refusal, you felt that edge still there, like every word was tinged with something deeper. You waggled it at him, voice mock-serious. The people demand sacrifice. It was a silly thing to say, and yet it felt true, felt right in the moment, like you were playing a role in something far larger than either of you had intended.

He leaned in again, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin before his lips pressed softly against the corner of your mouth. He pulled back just enough to whisper, They’ll have to settle for this. The words were barely there, a soft promise that you couldn’t ignore, and for just a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just him, just that kiss, just the breathless, burning tension between you.

And then, in a move that was so deliberate, so intentional, the joke fell away entirely. The playful mockery dissolved in your throat, swallowed up by the desperate, strangled sound that left you instead, a sound that was more real than anything that had come before it. The touch of his hand, the way he shifted his weight against you, the heat of him pressing so close—nothing about this was a game anymore. You clung to his shirt like it was the only thing holding you together, your chest tight with need, your voice barely a whisper when you managed to force out the only thing you could say. More.

He kissed you like he heard that word on a deeper frequency, like it wasn’t just a request but a revelation, something he’d been waiting for without realizing it. His fingers slid out of you slowly, deliberately, dragging slick down your thigh as he leaned back, breath still shallow. You watched him through the haze, chest heaving, pulse pounding in your ears like it was trying to keep up with the sudden, disjointed rhythm of everything inside you. He looked wrecked, flushed and wild and barely tethered, the pink plastic cuff still dangling between you both like the world’s worst and most brilliant joke. You were sitting on the edge of your kitchen counter, jeans undone, lips kiss-bruised, thighs parted for your best friend and somehow, impossibly, it wasn’t weird.

Chris’s hands slid to your hips, gripping gently but with that quiet, coiled strength he always carried around like an afterthought. His gaze flicked over you, like he was memorizing, like something in him had shifted and he couldn’t quite pretend otherwise. And then, with zero warning, he grabbed one of the novelty bottles from the box, the tiny one labeled sensation enhancer: edible and held it up between you with a half-smirk. You dared me to try something, he said, still breathless, still flushed. You narrowed your eyes. That’s technically not edible in public. He popped the cap with his teeth and raised an eyebrow. So good thing we’re not in public.

And just like that, you were laughing again, high and unsteady and so far past the point of return that nothing felt real anymore. Chris dipped his finger into the gel, held your eyes, and then dragged it slowly, teasingly, over the inside of your thigh. Not where you wanted him, not quite, but enough to make you jolt, to hiss, to shudder. The gel was cold at first, then warmer, then impossibly hot, and you gasped, clutching his wrist like that could slow him down. Still funny? he asked, voice low and nearly smug.

Shut up, you breathed, already falling apart. He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, his voice a thread of heat. Make me. You did. You kissed him like it was the only language left in your mouth, tangled and hungry and real as his hands slid back into your jeans, tugging them past your legs with just enough care not to rush, and you lifted your body to help him, legs shaking slightly. He paused only long enough to press one more kiss to the inside of your knee, soft and slow, and then he looked up at you, eyes heavy-lidded, reverent. You could see it on his face now—the shift, the way he was no longer pretending it was the game, or the chocolate, or the bottle in his hand. This wasn’t a joke anymore, this was you, and him, and a choice. He kissed up your thigh, slow and devastating, and your hands shook where they gripped the counter behind you. Still okay? he murmured and you nodded, voice barely there. Yeah.

Still the game? You didn’t answer. Neither did he.

He just kept going.

The moment he dropped to his knees, something in your chest cracked wide open, like the heat between you wasn’t just a slow burn anymore, but a kind of collapse. You were breathless, legs parting instinctively as Chris settled between them, his hands firm on your thighs, grounding you while everything else spun and his mouth hovered, not quite touching, his breath a warm tease over where you needed him most. You were still mostly dressed—jeans bunched awkwardly around your feet, shirt rucked up just enough to bare your stomach—but it didn’t matter. You felt exposed, devoured, like he was already tasting you just by looking.

His lips brushed against your inner thigh again, deliberate now, slower than before. You realize, he murmured, voice dragging low across your skin, this is gonna ruin all our future game nights. You let out a shaky laugh, the sound brittle with want. Only if we tell anyone. Chris chuckled, quiet, dark, and pressed a kiss just beside where you throbbed, still not giving in. You gonna keep it a secret?

He looked up, eyes hooded, lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. I could. Don't want to.

You weren’t sure if he meant the kiss, or the fact that your best friend was currently peeling your underwear down your legs with the same care he gave delicate electronics and bad injuries, measured, focused, unshakable, but you didn’t ask, you couldn’t. Because then he did kiss you there, properly this time, and everything inside you tilted like the room had gone off-axis. The sensation enhancer burned slow and deep, a creeping heat that made every pass of his tongue feel supernatural, unreal. He moved carefully at first, like he was listening to your body more than anything else, adjusting the rhythm of his mouth to every twitch, every breathless curse, every time you gasped his name without meaning to.

You’d imagined this before, more than once, in weak moments, when sleep wouldn’t come and the memory of his laugh had stayed in your chest too long, but nothing about those fantasies had prepared you for the real thing. Chris was good at this, almost too good, confident, thorough, unhurried, like he'd dreamed it too and was determined to get it right.

Your cuffed hands clawed at the counter behind you, desperate for something to hold on to, because your legs had already stopped obeying commands. You could hear yourself falling apart, the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth, your breath catching with every pass of his tongue over your clit, the muffled curses you kept trying to swallow and couldn’t, the heat from the gel had spread now, pooled deep in your core, and every time he moaned against you—like he was the one losing control—you swore you saw stars.

Chris, you breathed, broken and unsure if it was a warning or a plea. He hummed into you, the sound low and guttural. Say it again. You whimpered. Chris—fuck—please. His grip on your thighs tightened. Tell me what you want. You bit down on your lip, hips stuttering against his mouth. Don’t stop.

He didn’t.

His mouth stayed locked on you, wet and filthy, tongue flicking, curling, fucking you through every twitch and roll of pleasure until the pressure finally broke and when it did, it shattered you. The orgasm hit hard, violent, your back jerking clean off the counter as your whole body seized around the sharp, dizzy heat of it, his name torn out of your throat over and over, wrecked and hoarse, until there was nothing left but the sound of your own ragged breathing. Still, he didn’t stop, not until your legs were shaking around his head, not until your body sagged back against the counter, spent and soaked, your mind stripped clean, eyes glassy and lost.

And then—then—he pulled back, chin slick, pupils blown, and looked at you like he’d just climbed out of a dream and couldn’t believe it was still happening. You were boneless, ruined, barely able to sit up, but you still reached for him, awkward and tangled and desperate to feel more. Chris smiled, breathless, and stood, dragging you in by the cuffs until your foreheads met again. So, he murmured, nudging your nose with his, I think we need to give this party box a five-star review. You laughed, wrecked and breathless. We haven’t even gotten to the toys yet. Chris kissed you again, slow, deep, reverent. Then I guess we’ve got work to do.

Chris kissed you like he hadn’t just pulled you apart with his mouth. Like he wanted to start again from scratch, rebuild you slowly this time, piece by shaky piece, his lips were hot and unhurried, his hands still wrapped around your waist, guiding you off the counter with a care that bordered on reverence. Your legs barely held you, shaky, wobbly from the come-down, but he caught you, steadied you, murmured something soft against your temple that sounded suspiciously like got you. And for a second, in the quiet hum of the apartment, you let yourself rest there, half-dressed and cuffed, your breath syncing with his like it had always been meant to.

But then Chris glanced toward the living room. The couch, wide, soft. Closer than the bedroom but far enough from the kitchen to pretend you were making a more responsible decision. He raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a grin. We’re not stopping here, right? You scoffed, chest still heaving. Do I look like I’m in any condition to walk? His arms slid under your thighs and back in one clean motion. Good thing I work out.You yelped as he lifted you, laughing into the crook of his neck. You are so full of shit.

He grinned, carrying you bridal-style through the apartment with an ease that was so Chris—half cocky, half chaotic, and entirely unbothered by the fact that your jeans were still around your ankles and you were cuffed like a tragic bachelorette party prop. He dropped you on the couch with too much enthusiasm, and you bounced once, landing in a sprawl that made you laugh again, limbs everywhere, your shirt riding up your ribs before kicking the fabric stuck to your feet. You’re lucky I’m too weak to kick you.

You’re lucky I didn’t just drop you.

Debatable. Chris dropped down beside you, legs spread wide, one arm thrown lazily along the back of the couch, but the second you sat up to face him, straddling his lap with your bound wrists tucked under his jaw, the energy shifted again, still playful, still ridiculous, but hotter now, closer. You could feel him under you, hard through his jeans, and the friction when you settled down against him made both of you stutter.

His hands gripped your hips like he was trying to be casual and failing spectacularly. So… we’re still blaming the game, right? You rolled your hips just once, slow and experimental, and watched his breath catch. Obviously. He groaned, dragging his hands up under your shirt to grip your waist properly. This is such a bad idea. You rocked again, deliberately now, and his head fell back against the couch. Yeah, but it’s fun.

The grinding continued slow, the kind of slow that felt more like teasing than relief, your hips rolling down against his in loose, clumsy drags, both of you laughing under your breath one second, gasping the next when the friction caught just right. It was filthy, uncoordinated, desperate, the kind of dry-humping that belonged to backseats and dark corners, all hunger and no patience, your bodies clashing together with clothes still hopelessly in the way. His hands locked tight around your thighs, fingers bruising at the curve of them, dragging you harder onto the thick bulge straining behind his jeans. You could feel the solid shape of him pressing against you, the rough seam hitting your clit with every rock of your hips, each brush sparking another low, breathless moan into the sloppy kiss he caught your mouth with.

His lips wouldn’t stay still, greedy and wandering, wet kisses trailing from your mouth to your jaw, your throat, then back again, like he couldn’t decide where to taste first, like he couldn’t get enough of your skin on his tongue. The heat between you bloomed faster than either of you could keep up with, the damp ache soaking through his pants, through the layers between you, and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t even slow down. Each grind made you hungrier for the next, chasing the high you could feel slipping just out of reach every time your hips lifted, only to crash down again even harder.

You feel that? he rasped against your mouth, voice so tight it barely held shape. How wet you are? The words were wrecked, shameless, his mouth brushing over the corner of yours, teeth catching on your bottom lip and you could only nod, dragging yourself against him, desperate and shaking. I can’t stop. His hands locked down on your thighs, pulling you in even closer, and the kiss that followed was messier than the rest, teeth knocking, breath tangled, a sound ripped straight from his chest like he was already half gone. Don’t.

You dry-humped him like a pair of kids too horny to know better, or too far gone to care, slow, grinding friction that bordered on unbearable, his cock thick and straining beneath his jeans, yours soaking though the fabric, every shift of your body sending sharp little jolts down your spine. Every time your clit caught on the seam of his fly, your breath punched out of you in broken gasps, the heat building so fast it made your vision blur. His voice cracked against your ear, breath coming harder now, hips twitching up beneath you. You’re gonna make me come in my fucking jeans.

The confession hit like a shock, sharp and hot, your whole body tightening in response. You bit down a moan, rolling your hips again, slower this time, crueler. Not unless I beat you to it. His mouth crushed against your shoulder, a low, helpless groan rumbling through him like the threat of breaking. This is the best fucking game night ever. You could barely manage the breath to answer, your body too wound up, too focused on the tight, obscene friction building faster and faster with every drag of your hips. Yeah, you whispered, voice shaking, and you meant it. God, you meant it.

And then somewhere between the breathless laughter and the cursing and the dizzy, relentless pace of your grinding, the air changed, the heat crested too high, the game tipped too far, and suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. It was raw, it was real, you shifted a little too hard, hips driving down against the hard line of his cock, the friction tipping straight from playful to punishing, and the sound he made wasn’t a laugh this time—it was a choke, a curse, a warning.

Chris stilled beneath you, his hands flexing hard around your hips like the only thing keeping him from snapping was the sheer effort of holding on as his forehead dropped to yours, breath sharp and shallow, voice so low it barely made sound. I’m gonna lose it. You could feel him throb through the denim, every twitch against you making your pulse skip, your body tightening around the weight of it. You moved, just once, slow and deliberate, grinding down in one long, aching roll of your hips. Then lose it.

His eyes snapped open, wide and dark, searching your face for any trace of doubt, and when he didn’t find it, when you only nodded, heartbeat sitting like a lump in your throat, something in him broke. His hands moved, sliding up under your shirt, fingers dragging against bare skin, slow and reverent, like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. The ache of him pressed hard between your legs, trapped behind denim and cotton, hot and heavy and so fucking real, and when he kissed you again, rough, deep, no more jokes, no more games, it felt like something sharp split you wide open.

His fingers fumbled at his jeans, urgent and clumsy, yanking at the button, the zipper, trying to free himself without pushing you off. You couldn’t help, your wrists still bound and useless between you, so you just leaned in, caught his mouth in another kiss, teeth dragging on his lip, swallowing the growl that rumbled through him when he finally shoved his boxers down and freed his cock, flushed and leaking, the head slick and desperate. You looked down, breath catching in your throat, stomach flipping, because this wasn’t almost anymore—this was happening, this was real.

Are you— The question barely made it past his lips, voice cracking on the edges, raw and fraying apart from the inside out. Yes. The word broke sharp from your mouth before he could finish, your body already moving, your hips shifting in one slow, trembling roll, lining yourself up, the head of his cock pressing flush against your dripping heat. Your hands were useless, still bound at the wrists between your bodies, but you didn’t need them, the rest of you was already leaning into him, shaking, bracing, drunk on the sharp, staggering ache of what was about to happen. Are you?

Chris looked at you like you’d knocked the air from his lungs, his eyes wide, black with hunger, the last scraps of control fraying away under your stare. His head gave the smallest nod, jaw clenching so tight it shook his voice when it finally pushed free. God, yes.

His hands caught your hips the moment you started to sink down, fingers clutching hard enough to bruise, steadying you as your body slowly gave in to him, inch by inch. The stretch burned, sharp and deep and unrelenting, your body fighting the intrusion and begging for more in the same breath, muscles clenching down, struggling to adjust as he opened you up. Your breath shattered against his shoulder, the softest, sharpest gasp catching in your throat, and the cuffs clinked between you with every tremor as you fought for balance.

Chris groaned, the sound broken and hoarse, his head falling back against the couch as his cock pushed deeper, splitting you apart in the sweetest, filthiest way. He was so thick it made your head spin, the dull ache blooming into something close to unbearable, but you didn’t stop, couldn’t, your fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt, your whole body shaking, barely hanging on as you sank the last few desperate inches until you were fully seated, the base of him pressed tight against you, buried so deep it felt like he lived there, like you were built for this exact kind of stretch. You couldn’t move, not yet.

The air felt too heavy to breathe, the moment too sharp to survive, your heart pounding wild and frantic behind your ribs. His hands smoothed up your back, slow, reverent, as though the motion alone could anchor you both, as though he was still trying to convince himself this was real. Your foreheads met, slick and trembling, and the only thing either of you could do was hold on, suspended between the ache and the heat, caught in the weight of the moment.

You okay? he whispered, voice ragged, like speaking hurt. You nodded, throat tight, the words barely squeezing free. Yeah. You? Chris huffed a sound, half a broken laugh, half a low, desperate groan. His thumb traced slow circles at the small of your back, grounding both of you in the quiet, in the way your bodies fit together so perfectly it was almost cruel. I’ve wanted this for so long, I don’t even know what okay is anymore.

You kissed him before he could say another word, lips catching his, slow but hungry, your body pulsing around the thick weight of him still stretched deep inside you. And then, when the ache softened just enough, you started to move.

The first roll of your hips was careful, tentative, your body adjusting to the impossible stretch all over again as you lifted and sank, grinding in slow, tight circles. Every shift sent new shocks of pleasure through your spine, heat tightening low in your belly, the friction a perfect, aching tease and Chris hissed, his mouth dragging across your jaw, your shoulder, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, fingers digging deep into soft flesh as though he could hold you there, make you stay, make the moment last longer. Fuck, baby, he breathed against your neck, voice falling apart with every word. You feel so fucking good—you’re so warm, so tight—fuck.

The way he said baby made your stomach twist, sharp and sweet and dangerous, and you didn’t call him on it, didn’t tease, didn’t joke, didn’t breathe a word about how much you liked it. You just moved again, grinding your hips harder this time, letting the angle shift until the thick head of him pressed flush against that deep, sensitive spot that made your mouth fall open, a moan breaking free before you could swallow it down. His hips twitched up, chasing the friction, building a rhythm between you that made the couch groan beneath your bodies, every thrust a little more reckless than the last. Your cuffed hands curled into his chest, needing something, anything, to cling to while your body threatened to fly apart. Your thighs trembled with every bounce, sweat slicking your skin, your breath nothing but gasps and broken sounds against his mouth.

Chris’s voice wrecked itself on the next moan, a helpless, hoarse string of curses whispered straight into your ear. You feel unreal. You’re gonna kill me. You’re so fucking tight, I can’t—shit—I’m not gonna last. You clenched around him on purpose, the sharp squeeze pulling a gasp from his throat so raw it sounded almost like a sob. His fingers bruised into your hips, holding you still, his self-control snapping by threads. Don’t, he warned, voice dark and shaking. Don’t do that unless you want me to lose my fucking mind.

Your lips brushed his, voice barely a whisper. What if I do?

His eyes met yours, and the shift that had been happening, slow and creeping, winding around the edges of your friendship for months finally snapped its teeth. He wasn’t just fucking you, he wasn’t just lost in the moment, or the heat, or the years of tension finally unraveling. He was having you, all of you, slowly, completely, like he wasn’t going to stop until he’d memorized every sound, every twitch, every single piece of you that would give itself up under his hands. And the truth was, you didn’t want him to stop, not now. Not ever.

You moved together, tangled and desperate, until the line between pain and pleasure blurred, until the room disappeared, until the only things that existed were his hands, his mouth, the heat building between your bodies, the stretch of him inside you, slow and thick and deep. Time didn’t matter, nothing did when Chris’s grip on your hips was bruising, his hands dragging you down, forcing you to take every inch, every slow, deep stroke until you felt like you were being split apart. His head was tipped back, mouth slack, brow pinched in the kind of concentration that only ever shattered at the very end and you could feel how close he was, the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his breath hitched every time your body clenched around him, instinctive and greedy. Fuck, baby, he rasped, voice wrecked, barely able to get the words out. I'm so—

But you already knew, you could feel it in the way he started to thrust harder, sharper, losing the smooth rhythm in favor of something more desperate, more broken as you met him, hips rolling down to meet each thrust, grinding when he bottomed out, tightening around him until he groaned so deep it vibrated against your chest. Your own orgasm had been coiling for minutes, strung tight on the edge, your clit aching from the relentless friction, your whole body tense and trembling, teetering on the brink. And when he shifted just right, the angle a little sharper, the thrust a little deeper, it hit, sharp and unforgiving, your muscles locking down around him as the pleasure rolled over you, thick and hot and endless.

The cry tore from your throat before you could stop it, high and broken and raw, and your body clenched around him so tight he swore, a breathless, hoarse plea of your name as his hips jerked up one last time, burying himself deep, holding there, locked to the hilt as he came. You could feel it, the hot pulse of him spilling inside you, thick and messy, filling you until the slickness dripped back out around the base of him, your bodies so wet and filthy it only pushed your own pleasure higher, leaving you shaking and gasping against his shoulder. Chris held you there, both of you wrecked and spent, his hands smoothing over your back with a tenderness that didn’t match the filthy mess between your thighs, the slow, warm trickle of him still leaking from where he was buried deep inside you.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, you just stayed, still joined, bodies locked together, hearts pounding in the same wild rhythm and let the aftershocks bleed through your bones, through your skin, through the space between you that wasn’t really space at all anymore. And then, out of nowhere, Chris muttered, I think I got glitter on my dick. You blinked, pulled back just enough to look at him, and sure enough—there it was. A faint shimmer, low on his stomach. From the untouched glitter lotion, the bachelorette tiara? Who the hell knew anymore.

You started laughing, the kind of laugh that spilled out reckless and unfiltered, all loose limbs and spent lungs, too empty and too full at the same time. It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t soft, it wasn’t even a choice, it just tore through you, bubbling up from the wreck of your chest until your whole body trembled with it, half from the aftershocks still rippling through your muscles, half from the sheer absurdity of the scene laid out in front of you. The room was trashed, your bodies were worse, everything sticky and tangled and stained with sweat and the kind of mess that would cling to your skin long after the sun came up.

God, you wheezed, forehead dropping against his shoulder, the curve of his neck still damp and warm against your cheek, we’re gonna have to sanitize the apartment. Chris let out a broken sound, a laugh, but worn thin, the edges frayed and heavy, like it hurt to pull it out of himself. His chest shook under you, arms still looped lazily around your waist, fingers tracing slow, thoughtless patterns against your bare skin. Sanitize? he echoed, voice rasping through the word. Baby, we’re gonna have to burn it down.

You stilled. Your lips quirked slow, teeth sinking into the swell of your bottom lip as you lifted your head, meeting his eyes—those wide, dark, still slightly dazed eyes—and let the silence stretch, let the weight of that one unintentional slip sink into the air between you. Baby, huh? you teased, voice syrup-sweet, tilting your head just enough to watch him squirm. You really are soft for me. Chris groaned, dragging a hand over his face, scrubbing it back through his damp hair, like he could physically wipe the word out of existence. But his mouth was twitching, fighting a smile he was too worn out to win against. Shut up, he muttered, but the color creeping up his neck gave him away.

You grinned wider, the taste of it still sitting sweet and smug on your tongue. Not sorry about it, are you? He didn’t answer at first, just exhaled slow, dragging his thumb lazily along the inside of your thigh, his gaze trailing the movement like he was memorizing the shape of you all over again. His voice was lower when it came, soft and unshaken this time. Nope, he said simply. Not even a little.

You let the silence settle again, heavier now, not awkward, just thick, charged, like the current between you hadn’t dulled at all, even with your bodies spent and the last threads of your clothes hanging crooked, half-peeled off. His hands were still on you, your wrists were still cuffed, the metal biting red rings into your skin, and neither of you had made a single move to fix it. Speaking of, you hummed, flexing your fingers in front of his face, the cuffs jingling like some ridiculous badge of honor, you planning on letting me go or am I your prisoner now?

Chris blinked like he’d forgotten entirely. Honestly… he drawled, lips twitching, I kinda like you restrained. You arched a brow, breath hitching in something that wasn’t quite a laugh. Christopher. His fingers slipped up to the latch, slow and a little reluctant, and when the metal finally popped open, your hands dropped free, sore, tingling, but missing the weight almost instantly. Before you could pull away, he caught them, turned your palms up, and pressed his mouth to your wrists, once, twice, slow and unhurried, lips brushing the tender skin like it was some private ritual only he understood.

You let him, you let him even when your pulse jumped under his mouth, even when your throat ached with words you weren’t ready to say. Because the second he let your hands go, the second you shifted to climb off his lap, your legs rubbery and trembling and nowhere near trustworthy, his hand wrapped around yours again, anchoring you back, his thumb swept slow over the same angry little cuff-mark on your wrist, the gesture too gentle for the way he’d wrecked you minutes ago. So… he started, voice light, too casual, like he could bluff his way past what just happened, we’re still calling this a test run, right?

You snorted, staggering to your feet, steadying yourself against the back of the couch while your body remembered how to exist without him inside you. Your hips ached, your thighs were sticky and sore, and you could feel his cum leaking down your legs, messy and warm, dripping onto the floor as you shuffled toward the kitchen. You tossed a look over your shoulder, half-laughing. Sure. Let’s call it that.

But the second you turned away, you felt it, the way his eyes tracked you, the weight of his stare dragging over the stretch of your back, the bruises blooming along your throat, the way your knees buckled slightly every few steps. You heard the couch shift, his soft exhale behind you, and then his voice again, quiet this time, like a confession.

Need help, baby?. It slipped out before he could catch it. raw, unfiltered, like it belonged to you now. You paused, the glass you’d been reaching for still dangling from your fingertips, and glanced back at him, smile slow and sharp as a blade. Again? you teased, head cocking to one side. You’re really leaning into it, huh? Chris didn’t flinch, his gaze held steady, no panic this time, just calm and sure and worn thin with the truth.

Yeah, he said, voice steady, lips quirking into the softest, smallest smile. And I’m not taking it back.

[hannahsturniolo]

ᴛᴏᴏ sʜʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ

Warnings: smut, p in v, receiving(m&f), teasing, slight begging

Summary: you and Chris have been dating for a year now, and have never initiated the first move for sex because you were shy. But this time, you decided to initiate.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were always so shy to initiate sex. You liked when Chris initiated. You liked when he was the dominant one.

You were cuddled up next to Chris, one leg over his leg, head on his chest, while you were watching funny tiktoks together on his phone.

You turn your head to look at Chris with a smile on your face.

“Why you smilin’ at me, baby?” Chris giggled.

“I don’t know, you’re just really handsome” you giggled shyly.

You put your head back down his chest.

You felt the throbbing between your legs.

You wanted to have sex with him, but were too shy to initiate.

You started to rub lazy circles on his shoulder, and your body grip on him got tighter, and he noticed you moving a little on his leg.

You could feel the friction on your clothed clit from his leg.

You let out a little whimper. It just slipped out.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He looked down at you.

“Uh-yeah, I’m okay.” You said looking away shyly.

He reached his fingers underneath your chin to look up at him. You just seen pure lust in his eyes.

“If you want me baby, just say so” he said with a smirk.

“I-i want you Chris” you said, you felt your cheeks go super pink.

It’s not that you were nervous to have sex with him, you loved sex with Chris. You just had a hard time initiating it. You get all shy when you try to initiate, but this time, you needed him.

His fingers remain under your chin as he brings you up to him in a soft, warm, passionate kiss.

Your stomach had so many butterflies, you could feel the fluttering in your tummy.

He rolled over on top of you, going down your neck with sloppy kisses.

You let out a moan. You can feel him smile against your neck. He knew he was doing a good job.

You could feel his dick hard on your leg. You reach down between the two of you, and start palming him over his pyjama pants.

He let out a soft groan.

“Take off your pants” you whispered in his ear.

He didn’t even have to say a word, he rolled onto his back pulling down his pyjama pants.

His dick sprung up and hit his stomach.

“You’re already so hard” you looked up at him as you got between his legs.

He let out a giggle, “this is what you do to me baby.”

He leaned back on his pillow, getting into a comfortable position.

You put your right hand around the base of his cock and started to pump gently. You leaned down and started licking the tip.

His body jolted at the contact, and let out a deep breath.

You ran your tongue up and down the tip as you continued to pump.

“You’re making me feel so good” he quietly moaned.

He grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you started to bob your head up and down slowly. Taking your time.

“ I don’t want to finish yet, it’s your turn to be spoiled.” He said as he sat up, and rolled you onto your back.

He got on top of you, placing passionate fast kisses on your lips.

He lifted your back up gently as he pulled your shirt off.

He leaned down and started licking your sensitive nipples, looking up at you for approval.

You leaned back, and threw your head against the pillow in pleasure.

As he was sucking your nipples, he was working slowly to take your pyjama shorts off.

He started to kiss down your body, your hands went straight to his brown locks, and started playing with his hair.

He spread your legs out and started rubbing your thighs in slow circles with his thumbs.

He pulled down your pyjama shorts and threw them to the side.

He got down between your legs and you felt the heat from his breath against your pussy. You let out a quiet moan looking down at him. All you could see were his beautiful blue eyes looking up at you, and you felt him smile against your pussy.

He started to slowly lick in between your folds, teasing you. Going around the place you needed him the most.

“Chris- I- I need it” you moaned out.

“You didn’t say please…” he teased.

“P-please. Please Chris.”

He giggled placing a kiss to your clit.

He started to slowly lick your clit causing your body to tense up in pleasure. Your hands playing with his hair. His hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

He started to suck on your clit. You let out a whine.

“Chris- I’m close. I think I’m going to cum.”

Chris stopped sucking your clit, and you whined at the loss of contact.

“Not yet princess” he smirked.

He got up on his knees between your legs.

“I want you to finish on my dick” he said looking down at you.

He lined himself up with your entrance, moving his dick up and down along your folds to tease a little. Your body jolted.

He slowly started to stick the tip in, and you let out a loud moan. You heard him grunt as you stuck it in.

He started to move slowly all the way in. In and out.

“Faster Chris, please” you whined.

Chris started to move faster.

Chris grabbed one leg and put it up higher so he can angle himself deeper.

Once he did that, you felt yourself getting close.

“I’m going to cum..” you moaned out.

You felt the most intense orgasm wash over you, as you twitched underneath him.

He felt your pussy convulse around his dick, which made him close as well.

Just as you were coming down from your high, Chris groaned “I’m going to cum baby” and he leaned down and started to place sloppy kisses on your mouth.

You felt Chris cum, and he was twitching on top of you. You dug into Chris’s back.

He was coming down from his high, and looked down at you.

“You’re so beautiful baby.”

You smiled up at him, and he gave you one last kiss before coming to lay beside you.

“See there’s nothing scary about initiating, love.” He said with a smile.

You curled into his neck and let out a giggle.

“I have to imitate more often”

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Okay I really liked this one 😅

[ariestrxsh]

brattamer!matt x brat!reader

🥀 content warning: smut, sneaking around, risky, oral (f!receiving), teasing, degradation, humiliation, edging, orgasm denial, shower sex, enemies to lovers

🥀 summary: you and matt continue sneaking around right under his brothers' nosed

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

Hatef--k

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

[ back to Hatef--k masterlist ] ↖

I threw my clothes and my vibrator into my big tote bag, along with a phone charger and some snacks from my pantry. I was still in shock that Matt had seen me packing my favorite sex toy and then relentlessly teased me with it. And the bastard didn't even let me cum.

I angrily stomped to his car and resentfully got into it. I could feel every bump as we drove over it, every vibration from the way the tires hit the pavement beneath us, and it was pure torture as I sat there, unfinished.

"You know, I should tell Nick your water is back on, and you lied to him," Matt broke the silence, clicking his tongue at me and shaking his head. "You won't," I called his bluff. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" He narrowed his eyes. "Because you love it when I prance around your house half-naked and tease you until you can't take it anymore. You want me to stay with you guys longer," I told him, reading him like a book. He didn't say anything, but he shot a smile that confirmed my suspicion. All doms are the same. Most of their threats that don't benefit them are empty.

We pulled into the driveway, and as we walked into the house, Matt shut the door in my face again. I rolled my eyes, stopping it with my hand. I set my tote bag down next to the couch in the living room, and when Matt and I stepped into the kitchen, we were greeted by Chris who was home attempting to make pancakes, but instead of flipping them with a spatula, he was flipping them into the air and trying to catch them in the frying pan. "Chris! You're making breakfast for four people. We don't have pancakes to waste," Nick scolded him, pointing the spatula at him.

"Good to see you guys survived the night alone together. I thought, for sure, based on how pissed Matt was about you staying here, he was gonna choke you out or something," Chris joked, cracking open an egg into a bowl. "Yeah, he tried, but he was too much of a bitch to finish the job," I smirked at Matt.

"Do either of you want coffee?" Nick offered, holding up a french press. "Yes, please," Matt and I both responded in unison, but we both shot each other a glare, resenting the other for answering the same way. Nick poured us each a cup of coffee, and we all fixed our plates and sat around the kitchen table together. "You guys really are the nice ones. Thank you so much for making breakfast for us," I said. It was a compliment to Nick and Chris, but even more than that, it was a slight towards Matt. I was still very angry about the sex toy incident.

"Of course. Anytime. You're our guest," Nick replied. "So what did you guys do last night when you had the house to yourselves?" Chris said before taking a bite of his hashbrowns. Matt and I shot each other a glance. "I watched The Bachelorette," I told them, taking a sip of my coffee. "And I played video games in my room," Matt said without looking up from his food. "You mean, you guys sat on opposite sides of the house.. and ignored each other?" Nick questioned, looking skeptically at us. "I find that hard to believe because any time you two are in the same vicinity, you pick on each other," Nick said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well when I went to shower.." I started to say, but then I stopped myself. Matt delivered a swift kick under the table and hit me in the shin. "Oh, just for that, I'm telling them," I looked towards Matt and then I turned to his brothers, "Matt thought it would be funny to take my towel amd hide it while I was showering." I took a sip of my coffee and looked back over at Matt, who was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. Please punish me for that one later, I silently begged him with my eyes.

"Matt! What the fuck?" Nick asked with a look of disgust. "Bro, that's weird," Chris shook his head. I secretly liked embarrassing Matt in front of his brothers and getting them both on my side. It was as harmless as Matt taking my towel and my clothes, right? "It's fine. He gave it right back to me," I told them, smiling and taking a bite of my eggs.

We continued to eat our breakfast, and once we were done, Chris volunteered Matt and me to clean up since he and Nick made breakfast. I was happy to oblige, considering the boys were being so kind and letting me stay with them, and Matt begrudgingly agreed. "Plus, it'll give you guys more alone time together, so you can hopefully overcome your differences," Nick chuckled. Little did he know, the only time Matt and I could ever overcome our differences was long enough to fuck each other's brains out. Chris and Nick both headed upstairs, leaving Matt and me in the kitchen by ourselves.

Matt immediately backed me up against the counter and got into my face. "You like making me look like a fucking perv in front of my brothers, huh?" He growled quietly next to my ear, while he started to take his hand and press it against my mound. "You are a perv," I shot back. "Yeah, but you fucking love it," Matt gruffly said, applying more pressure. I could feel the edge of the counter digging into my back as Matt fondled me. I could feel myself growing weak.

"Let's get these off of you, you little whore," Matt grumbled while he started to pull down my pants. I was still wet from the vibrator incident earlier. He picked me up by my waist and set me on the counter. I felt the cold, hard granite underneath me as he placed me. He looked up intently into my eyes as he got down onto his knees, wrapped his strong arms around my thighs, and held them apart further.

I watched in anticipation as he flattened his tongue and started tickling my clit with it. I tried to seem like I wasn't dying for it, but I couldn't keep my equanimity. My moans got away from me with every stroke of his remarkable tongue. His soft lips engulfed me, and he hummed against my favorite nerve endings while I watched his eyes roll back as he savored my taste. I secretly loved the way he ate pussy, like he wanted it, like he needed it. "Mmmm. You're such a naughty girl. You're loving this, aren't you?" He said, his lips vibrating against my sex. "Not as much as you," I joked. He started to gently nibble on my clit, and I started tugging on his hair. My legs locked around his head as he worked wonders with his mouth below my waist.

"You like it when I eat you while my brothers are upstairs? They could come down any minute and catch us," he muffled against my pussy. All I could do was nod and bite my lip as I tried to suppress the sounds I so desperately wanted to let loose. "Slut. I bet if Nick and Chris walked down here right now and saw what we were doing, you'd squirt all over my tongue, wouldn't you, used up little whore," he smirked. And he was right. The idea of being caught was enticing. I felt like I was at the edge of more than just the countertop, but before I could enjoy the sensation and fully sink into it, Matt was pulling away.

"No, no, no," I whined, gripping his locks of hair. "Please don't do this to me again," I begged him, chasing the feeling of his tongue, desperate for sweet release. He looked up at me, taunting me. "Not after you were such a bad girl for tattling on me to Nick and Chris," he grinned menacingly. His mouth glistened from nearly devouring me. "I'll do anything," I pleaded. "Yeah, anything but behave," he scolded me, bringing himself to his feet and wiping his face.

"You can finish cleaning the kitchen. I'm gonna go play video games," he replied, handing me back my pants. "The fuck I am. You're not gonna help me clean?" I angrily shot back. "No, and if you tell Nick or Chris that I didn't help you, I'll make sure they accidentally stumble upon your vibrator while you're here," Matt sneered. "Fuck you, asshole," I said under my breath as Matt was walking away. He immediately turned back around and brutally grabbed me by the neck. "Keep going and I won't let you cum tonight either," he snarled.

"And clean your pussy juice off the counter. People cook there," he said to me as he released me from his intense grip and disappeared out of the room. I quickly put my underwear and pants back on and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

"So, how was cleaning the kitchen with Matt? Did you guys bond?" Nick sat down on the couch next to me several hours later while I was curled up scrolling on my phone. "Yeah, something like that," I blankly answered. "What's wrong? I can tell something is up with you," Nick replied. Oh, you know, Nick, your brother just keeps edging me and then ruining my climax. That's what's wrong. But of course, I couldn't say that, so I settled for a dramatic sigh and instead said, "You know, I'm just getting impatient with this whole water situation. You guys are really great for letting me stay here. I just can't help but feel like I'm intruding on your space."

"We want you here, silly. Even if your water weren't out, we'd probably still be hanging out with you," Nick reassured me. And it made me feel bad about lying in the first place. We sat next to eachother, laughing at memes until the sun started to set.

"It's getting late. I'm gonna start getting ready for bed," I relayed to Nick. We stood up and hugged each other. I thanked him again for his kindness, and he thanked me for my company. "By the way, I'm sleeping down here on the couch tonight. You can have my bed again," Nick offered. I couldn't let him. Not when I knew I'd be sneaking into Matt's room and falling asleep next to him anyway. "Nick, you're too sweet. But really, I think we should make Matt sleep down here and I can take his bed. Payback for him being a dick last night," I gave Nick a really sincere face. "That's a great idea actually," Nick's face lit up. "Don't worry, I'll tell him," I smiled.

I made my way to the bathroom with my towel, my clothes, and my vibrator. I started running the shower and once the water was hot enough to get in, I stood beneath the stream of warmth, vibrator in hand. Overcome by the incredible feeling of finally releasing pressure that had build up all day, I didn't even hear Matt come in until he was pulling back the curtain. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to shut off my toy.

"Awh. Trying to finish without me?" Matt chuckled, standing in front of me completely naked. "What are you doing?" I whispered to Matt, covering myself with the shower curtain. Bastard ruined my orgasm again. "I came to shower with you," he smiled. He got in and immediately pushed me up against the shower wall. "I think I've been keeping you waiting long enough," he gruffed into my ear as he propped my left leg onto the side of the tub.

He lined up his hardening cock with my entrance and inserted it in a brutal manner. I let out a small yelp as I felt him start violently bucking his hips. "Take my cock, you little whore," he rasped while my walls stretched around him. He grabbed onto my hair and yanked it hard while his cock grew to its full potential.

"Hey, sorry to bother you while you're showering, but did you see Matt anywhere before you got in?" Nick asked poking his head in through the bathroom door. "No, I didn't," I responded, biting my lip to hold back another satisfied sound and trying not to blow our little secret behind the shower curtain. "Have you noticed he's been acting strange lately?" Nick pondered out loud while Matt pounded into me from behind. "Stranger than normal? Kid's a freak," I snarked, and Matt started to fuck me harder for the jab I made at him to Nick, and he held his hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"Yeah, I've noticed he's been kind of distant from Chris and me, and he's been even meaner to you than normal. I just worry he may be going through something," Nick responded sounding worried. Oh, he's going through something alright, I thought to myself as Matt bottomed out in me, thrusting against my gspot with incredible force.

"If you see him, will you let him know I'm looking for him?" Nick asked, but while Nick said this Matt was whispering into my ear quietly enough for only me to hear, "Cum on my cock, you naughty fucking whore," while he released his hand from my mouth so I could respond to Nick. "Yes, Matt," I slipped up. My eyes widened when I realized my error. "Did you just call me Matt?" Nick inquired, chuckling. "Sorry, Nick. I mispoke," I held myself together long enough to correct my mistake.

Just then, Matt reached up and covered my mouth with his palm again, grabbing me even more roughly than before while we came in tandem, both our orgasms tearing through us silently. My eyes rolled back, and it took everything in my power to not scream Matt's name while I throbbed around him. Matt's cock twitched, depositing his seed inside of me while Nick stood in the doorway telling me to enjoy my shower and giving me shit for calling him the wrong name. When we heard the door shut and Nick leave, Matt chuckled and said, "You're so hot for finishing on my cock while Nick was in the room. You're such a naughty girl."

"You're hot for making me wait so long for that. By the way, Nick and I talked about it. I'm taking your room tonight. Have fun sleeping on the couch," you smirked back at him breathlessly while the two of you finished your shower.

part five posted here 🥀

[sometimeslwish]

BURNING IN DESIRE (You Belong With To Me) [ao3]

MY VERY FIRST CALEB FIC, BABYYYY, LET'SSSS FUCKING GOOOOOOO. Guys, this is sitting at 3.4k words, I've never written this much before in my life. ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜@comatosebunny09 thank you so much for encouraging me as I wrote, and for the small help with the tags. I don't think I would've finished it without your encouragement.

Tags: Caleb x you, Caleb x f!reader, reader is mc, slightly dub-con (if you squint? Idk, feel free to correct me about that tag in the comments), bold mc, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, switchy switch? this was self indulgent as fuuck, degradation (whore, slut) and also praise, Caleb being a meanie by edging you once, possessiveness, petnames (pipsqueak, princess, baby) light choking (both m! and f!receiving)

I'd recommend listening to the following songs:

Bones – Wens | You – Greta Isaac | Anywhere you want – BB Cooper | PRETTY PLEASE & RUNRUNRUN – Dutch Melrose | BURNING IN DESIRE – Chris Grey

You don't bother putting any clothes on before leaving your room. 

Caleb is the only thing in your mind as you make your way through his place. He's been the only thing in your mind in these past few weeks, and you're starting to fray at the edges, wanting more and more each time you meet. You can tell he does too, he's been doing a shity job at hiding it and it's making it harder for you to pretend like you don't want him. Like you're not as crazy and dependant on him as he's crazy and overprotective of you.

The lights are off when you get in his room, with only the moonlight coming through the windows as you slip into his bed. His arms wrap around you the moment you settle beside him, years of habits driving him in autopilot. The fabric of his clothes rub against your body and they almost pull a moan from you, it forces you to bite your lip to stay quiet. There are whispers in your bones, chatter in your veins, and all of it pertains to the man holding you in his arms.

"Nightmare?" His voice is hoarse, deeper from the sleep and you revel in the way it travels deep into your core. You simply hum in response, burying your face in his neck before nodding. Gods he smelled so good, it was really a wonder how you managed to not jump his bones sooner. 

All the times playing girlfriend so other girls would stay back, when he would hug your waist and pull you closer, his voice close to your ear, always a turn of your head away from kissing him. Or when he'd simply carry you when you were being too stubborn, using his evol to pull you towards him before holding you in his arms. Letting go each time was harder than the last; you wanted to swaddle yourself in his scent, burrow under his skin and hide there forever, where no one else could reach but him. But it was alright now, you were going to get what you wanted no matter what. 

It doesn't take him long to register your lack of clothes– or lack of a shirt and bra, from his perspective. His hand sweeps down your back and stops at your waist before coming back up. You feel him tense up and you can't help the small smirk that takes over your lips. He calls your name as he sits up, "Are you–" you grumble softly before leaving your hiding spot and leaving his warmth. You sit up with him, blanket sliding down your body as you use an arm to keep yourself up. The moonlight behind you outlines your body and it makes you look like a dream, an enchantress. 

"It's okay," you whisper, staring into his eyes. His expression looks troubled, like he doesn't know whether to be elated or not, restraint written all over his features as he stares into your eyes. It's okay, really, and you'll help him see that. 

"You can look," you brush his hair away from his eyes, before caressing his cheek, a subtle way of making sure he won't look away from you. "You can touch too" You add, before taking one of his hands and nuzzling your face into his palm. His breath hitches when you kiss it, but he makes no other move. Your insides twist with impatience, and you have to hold yourself back from clenching your thighs as the pool of desire turns deeper. 

"Want me to guide you?" You move his hand down, stopping at your neck for a few seconds. You tilt your head to expose it, shivering at the warmth and the texture of the callouses in his hand. 

"You can leave marks here, bites too," you smile, breathless as you push his hand against your collarbone. His eyes follow the path you're drawing on your body and he gulps. 

Finally, finally you have him where you want him, where you need him. You're going to enjoy every second of it. 

You move his hand lower, and you make him cup your breast, "You can play with my tits," there's a slight twitch to his fingers and you grin, another wall down. 

"Grab my waist and squeeze to keep me in place," you go lower, pressing his hand to emulate a firmer grip. He's more responsive then, hand a little lighter and fingers less stiff. He shifts closer and you move his hand lower.

"You can mark me up anywhere, really, I wouldn't mind" you lean towards him and pull his arm, you stop looking at his face to look at your legs as you make him caress your thigh. His hands are so big that they make yours look smaller. As you stare at the goosebumps his fingers left in their wake, the fire in your bones burns brighter. You've wondered many times how his fingers would feel inside, how far they would reach, and tonight you'll get to feel it.

"Pipsqueak–" whatever he was going to say gets lost in the night as you move his hand between your legs, making him cup your mound. You can feel yourself dripping, wetter than you've ever been, and that only fuels the fire even more.

You look back at his eyes as you push two of his fingers between your folds and into your clit. You don't hold back your moan then, grinding your hips on his hand. It feels so good, better than you imagined, and you make sure to tell him so. There's a pained look on his face, and it makes you smile. 

Break for me, baby, I'll patch you back up.

His breathing is heavy, strained, it stutters to a stop when you guide his fingers to your entrance. You're forced to open your legs, bending a knee to accommodate and allow better access. 

"Can't you feel how wet I am for you? How much I want it?" It's a little hard to push his fingers inside, considering the position he's in, but the sweet feeling of his fingers being inside you makes up for it. You hold his hand there as you move your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers, and it feels a little humiliating to do everything yourself while he's quiet, but you're too gone to care. If anything, it makes the hunger worse, he's letting you use him. His hand is completely still, fingers straightened as he watches you. 

You bite your lip and raise a hand, you trail a soft caress from his chest to his neck, where you pull him closer to you. He's pliant in your hands, following your every lead as you make him look at you. When he looks into your eyes, you can see more cracks forming; you can see the lust, the love, the devotion. His beautiful purple eyes turning darker.

"I need it, Caleb, need you." You rub your nose against his before kissing the corner of his mouth, softly biting his bottom lip after "Don't you wanna make me yours?" 

That's all it takes for him to finally break. 

His fingers curl inside you the moment his lips are on yours, and you moan against his mouth. A high pitched sound that he greedily swallows down as he pushes you into the mattress. It takes no time for the kiss to deepen, for him to leave bites and marks on your neck as he fingers you, leaving you scrambling and gasping for air. 

"This what you want?" The pace he sets is relentless, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you nod, biting your lip as you squirm under him, legs open for him to settle between. "Answer me."

"Yes! Fuck, pleease, yes!" Your hands go to his hair, and you feel him chuckle against your collarbone before biting the skin there. You whimper when he tongues every indent left by his teeth, and shiver at the predatory look on his eyes. His fingers take no time finding the spot inside of you that makes you see stars, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

"Look at you, so eager for me," you whimper when he licks one of your nipples, his free hand stimulating the other. He nibbles softly on it before suckling, timing his movements with each time his fingers pressed into you. He groans before switching to the other one, leaving a trail of saliva and bite marks as he went. There's the sound of squelching and you can't bring yourself to feel embarrassed about anything at all, not even bothering to hide your desperation.

"Caleb," you moan, arching into his touch, "feels so good, please don't stop, please." 

"How am I supposed to say no when you call out for me like that?" He murmurs, but there's something hidden in his voice, you'd be able to pay more attention to it if he wasn’t trying to finger you senseless. He shushes you, kissing you gently, the contrast making you warm inside. He whispers sweet encouragement to you as you near the edge, makes you believe he won't stop, only to leave you gasping for air when he pulls away completely. 

"Why?" You whine, chasing after him only to be weighed down by his evol. You whine again, feeling completely betrayed and empty, your pussy clenching around nothing. In this current predicament, you're not even allowed to reach the edge by yourself, since your hands are pinned to the bed. You can't even stay mad, it's hot, it turns you on and you've never wanted him so badly in your life. 

"You're so mean," He doesn't answer, ignores the pitiful look you give him and simply makes you stare as he undresses like he has all the time in the world. You sigh, all the real estate skin you could be touching and marking right now and he's being a big fucking meanie. Your mouth goes dry when his boxers are finally off. You knew it was big, you'd felt it against your thigh and caught glimpses of it before, it still didn't stop the delighted chill that went through your body.

You look up when you hear him snicker, frowning as he grabs your ankle and pulls you towards him "You're so desperate, it's adorable," there's a mocking edge to his voice, and you're surprised with how it makes you flush. It's embarrassing, but at the same time so hot. The conflicting emotions swirl inside of you, mixing into an addicting concoction that throws you into a haze.

"Nu-uh, look at me, princess." He grabs your chin with his free hand, "Keep your pretty eyes on me, 'kay?"

"Okay," he kisses you as a reward, keeps it from getting deeper in a way that makes you want for more.

"Atta girl, you're a fast learner," he praises and the hand that held your ankle trails up your leg, touch reverent and light, making you shiver with goosebumps. He spreads your legs open and taps his cock against you clit, groaning softly before grinding against your folds. His hips move slowly as he teases you, the head of his cock catching against the bundle of nerves. His hands roam your body, the same way as before, and you can't help seeking his hands with yours as you arch into his touch. Your eyes close, and he must be feeling generous because he says nothing about it.

"So beautiful," you hear him whisper, one of his hands trails upwards and stops at your neck for a brief second, lightly squeezing your pulse points before carrying on. You open your eyes when he caresses you cheek, his are already staring at you, and the look of utter devotion and wonder in them squeezes your heart. You hold his wrist when you nuzzle his palm, and you lick at his thumb when it caresses your bottom lip, all while staring into his eyes. The look in his eyes turns dark, and it makes you bolder, more greedy. You part your mouth and suck his thumb, your tongue swirls around the pad of it as if it was the tip of his cock.

"Who knew you could be such a slut," you moan at his harsh words and grind harder against his cock. You're close, awfully close, it's the fastest you've ever gotten to the edge.

"Oh, you like that? Like being called a whore?" He chuckles, pulling his hand away and using his thumb to draw teasing circles on your clit. "You're so filthy, baby" he tuts. You wrap your legs around his waist and yank him foward. It happens so fast that he loses his balance, and just like that, he slips inside and you come from the stretch alone, moaning his name as your orgasm wrecks its way through your body like an earthquake.

"You– shit, you're squeezing so tight. Did you just come, baby? Just from that?" You moan and nod, grinding yourself into overstimulation on his cock. You pull him closer and hiss at the feeling of the cold metal of his dog tags on your chest, but you ignore it in favor of kissing him. He's forced to prop an elbow beside your head so he doesn't crush you with his weight –not that you'd mind anyways, you've imagined him restraining you or putting you in a mating press so many times now that you can't even keep track.

"Sneaky little minx," he bites at your jaw and you pull him closer, wanting the warmth of his skin against yours. He hoists you up and crawls into bed with you in his arms, and you squeal when the angle and movement shoves him even deeper inside, "So needy, coming from just my cock."

He lays you down gently, using one of his pillows to put under your lower back. Your giggle turns into a moan when he gives an experimental thrust and your back arches off the bed. His movements start gentle, making sure you're completely used to his cock before he hooks your knees on his elbows and holds you in a mating press while fucking you. It's a harsh pace, and you can barely keep your eyes straight as he continues to burry himself inside of you, hitting all the good spots.

"Mhm, 'm such a- ah, whore, aren't I?" You bite your lip as you smile, clinging to his biceps and digging your nails into his skin. The pain makes him groan and, being as ceroed in on his cock as you are, you feel him twitch, "Just a little cock hungry slut." Your smile is crooked, with edges where they shouldn't be and dazed eyes that barely focus.

You grab at his necklace, hold the dog tags between your fingers and pull. It's his turn to shiver as he pays attention to the look in your eyes. It’s hungry, just as dark as his, if not more "But only for yours," you raise the same hand to hold his neck, tags held against his adam apple. You don't squeeze, but you do press at his pulse with your thumb. You feel him twitch inside you and your grin turns sharper. Your arms wrap around his shoulders like a snake on a hawk, and he's got no other option but to adapt to the position while fucking you. It's so much better and so much worse, he can feel your pert nipples against his chest, your moans and gasps closer and clearer.

"You'll give it to me, right baby? I need it." You bite his earlobe, and his thrusts get harsher, like he's trying to render you quiet and mindless. Or maybe he wants to see what else you'd say in this pleasure driven state. Whatever the case, it only makes you more ravenous and that, makes him more ravenous in turn. Like you're two beasts, feeding of each other in a never ending loop of pleasure and madness.

"S-shit, yeah, baby, it's all yours to keep" your nails scratch at his back as he keeps up with the relentless pace, and you swear you're seeing stars.

"Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop," you commanded, glaring at him as best you could while he pounded into you. Praise and encouragement slipped from your tongue as he kept the pace, all amidst broken moans and gasps.

He felt so good inside you, looked so good on top of you, his moans sounded so fucking hot, you wanted– no, needed to keep him, probably even more than he wanted to keep you.

"Mine," you whispered, moving a hand to his head and tangling your fingers into the strands before pulling to expose his neck. You bit into his skin, licking the teeth marks and sucking marks along his neck as a silent apology, "all fucking mine, right Caleb?"

"Fuck, yes, princess. 'M all yours."

That's all you could think of, a never ending string of "mine, mine, mine" over and over, paired with each of his thrusts. It rose along with your pleasure, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"So fucking deep," you gasped, "So fucking good," your moans got louder, the pitch higher and in response, he moved faster. All of his focus was on you, he could tell you were close, your tell tale signs already memorized from when he'd fingered you. It drives him mad, drives him into grinding deeper, into letting go of one of your legs to circle your clit with his thumb, looking down to where your bodies connect and groaning as he sees his cock disappear inside of you.

"You're fucking perfect, pipsqueak, you know that?" He noses your neck, and revels in the way you instantly tilt your head to grant him access, "Perfect pussy, taking so fucking well and squeezing me so tight. You'll come for me, right pretty girl? Cream all over my cock?"

"If I do, you'll cum inside, right? Fill me up with your cum?" You were close, you were so fucking close and so was he. He'd almost cum just from you asking, but he wanted you there first, needed to feel you clamp down on him.

"Yeah, baby, I'll fill you up." That was all you needed to come, nails digging into his back and your body shaking under him as you had the hardest orgasm of your life. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, eyes rolling back and head swirling with thoughts of Caleb. He's doesn't take long to follow you into the high, with a gasp of your name as he burries himself deep in you and grinds as he cums. You moan at the warm feeling, your fingers easing on his back. You scratch softly at his nape and he lets go of your leg. You wrap them around his waist to keep him there, and he switches to supporting his weight so he doesn't crush you as both of you gasp for breath.

You're on your way to fall asleep when he rises and pulls out, staring as his cum oozes and drips out of your pussy. You don't get a warning before two of his fingers are fucking it back into you.

"Caleb" you drawl out the last syllable, pouting as you watch him. He hums and looks back at you, with a smile that pretends to be innocent but is nothing like. You huff, roll your eyes and pull him into a kiss. It's slow and sensual, both of you taking the time you want without the desperation from earlier tainting the kiss. He makes you cum again like that, and then cleans both of you up before changing the bed sheets and kissing you goodnight.

When you wake up, it's to gentle caresses and kisses, all from Caleb. He's lying beside you, shirtless, with a soft smile and a fond look.

"Caleb," you call out, just because you can and you want to, before grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. You nuzzle into his neck before kissing the skin, all the way up to his jaw, ending the trail with a kiss on his mouth. You shiver when his arm wraps around your waist, enjoying the warmth of his skin against yours, and you bite his lip before soothing the sting with a lick.

"Good morning," There's the smell of food in the air and your hips and lower back hurt, but you don't pay any mind to it.

You have everything you need now.

[ghsface]

bro I love ur writing so much idk if this is how you request but tbh idgaf anyways. anyway can you write something abt Matt x reader at a party and doing some page 136 icebreaker shit? (I think that’s the page but idc) anyway yeah ilyy 😍😍😘

New Message ✮⋆˙

hey pretty, ngl I didn't read that book but I looked up what that page of the book is about and OMG THAT WAS HOT ngl, I tried to do something similar because I don't know the context very well, I hope you like it, ily too<33

I hate you - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You decide to provoke Matt at a party...

Warnings: smut +18 orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, semi public sex, unprotected sex (don't do it), p in v, oral f receiving, dom!matt x fem!reader, hate sex?, I don't think I've forgotten anything, if I do, let me know.

A/n: ngl at first i liked it but now i hate it i don't know why like i love it but at the same time i hate it ugh i hate that feeling yk, i trying my best i hope you like it anon, and thanks for the request!!, my first language is not English, so I'm sorry if there is something wrong or things that are not understood.

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You arrived at the Sturniolo triplets’ house with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Nick had mentioned that he, you, and Chris were going to a party, and the thought of hanging out with them cheered you up, especially since Matt, Nick’s brother, wasn’t going to be there. For as long as you could remember, you and Matt had been mortal enemies, the competition between you was fierce, and every interaction always ended in insults and challenging glares. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you got ready for the night, hoping that your outfit would make you feel like the best version of yourself.

You had gotten ready in Nick’s room, enjoying the time you spent with him and Chris, who joked around with each other as they waited for you. Finishing up, you made sure to take one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs. As you opened the door, however, a familiar laugh made you frown. Matt was sitting on the couch, his mocking expression already in place.

“Are you really going out with that? You look like a desperate," Matt said, with that provocative look you knew so well.

Your instinct was to ignore him, but you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh.

"Didn't you say he was staying home?" you shot back, looking for Nick's gaze.

Nick, who was about to respond, stopped when he noticed the tense atmosphere between you.

"You know, I couldn't miss this party," Matt said, raising his hands in a gesture of false innocence. "Besides, I wanted to see you make a fool of yourself."

"As if you were the best example of behavior," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're a fucking annoying bastard."

Matt smiled maliciously, enjoying the challenge you offered him.

"I've always thought it's my job to screw up your life."

"You don't have a job, you're just an idiot," you replied, gritting your teeth as you tried to stay calm.

Nick, visibly amused by their daily fights, decided to intervene.

“Guys, please, can you stop fighting, at least for tonight? If you have so many problems, fix them in bed.”

The two of you stayed silent, the tension palpable.

“Nick wtf” you said indignantly, and confused as to why Nick said that.

“It's just a joke, but if you really have so many problems, fix them somehow,” Nick said, laughing.

“You know we're going to go now because we'll be late.” You felt caught between your desire to continue arguing and your desire to leave things like that. Finally, you decided not to let Nick's joke affect you anymore.

“Come on, let's go now!” you exclaimed, gesturing to get out, knowing that Nick and Chris would follow you.

In the car, the atmosphere was tense. You sat next to Nick, feeling like Matt was shooting daggers at you from the driver's seat every time he stopped the car for a stoplight. You couldn't help but feel his intense gaze on you in the rearview mirror, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on the music Chris had turned on.

During the ride, the conversation between Nick and Chris flowed, while you did your best to stay away from the conversation, thinking about how awkward that night would be. However, deep down, there was a spark of excitement. The idea of ​​going to a party always put you in a good mood, and even if Matt was there, you wouldn't let him ruin your night.

Arriving at the party, you were the first to get out of the car and enter the party, leaving the boys behind you. When you entered, the energy of the crowd was contagious. You headed towards the bar, looking for something to drink. You ordered a few drinks, and within minutes, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade away.

After a couple of drinks, the atmosphere was more relaxing. You looked around, looking for Matt, although you didn't know why you were looking for him. When you found him, he was chatting with Chris, but his gaze landed on you immediately, like a hunter stalking his prey. The way he looked at you made you nervous and, at the same time, provoked you. A stupid idea crossed your mind.

You decided it was time to play. You walked towards the dance floor, letting the rhythm of the music envelop you. With sensual movements, you began to dance, feeling Matt's gaze intensify from a distance. The game had begun, and you wanted him to feel it. You touched your body provocatively.

It wasn't long before you approached a boy who was dancing near you. Without a second thought, you pulled him towards you, moving with a magnetism that you knew would irritate Matt in some way. With each twist and turn, you noticed how his expression became darker and angrier.

"Do you like what you see?" you mouthed and threw Matt a wink from across the dance floor, enjoying the discomfort you were causing.

As you got closer to the boy, his hands wrapped around your waist and ran down your body, and the closeness was electric, he was a cute boy but he was definitely not your type. You felt like Matt couldn't take his eyes off you at any time. With each movement, you grew more confident, enjoying the provocation you were causing him.

Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab your arm, and you didn't need to look to know who it was. Matt was staring at you with a mix of anger and desire, dragging you off the dance floor into an empty room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, slamming the door shut behind you.

"I was just dancing with a friend, do you have a problem with that?" I replied, crossing my arms in a defiant gesture. "Did you think I was going to stand there with my arms crossed while you stared at me like you wanted to kill me?"

"You're provoking me, and you know it," he said, slowly approaching, his voice low and full of tension. "You in your damn dress and the way that guy touched you."

You felt powerful and vulnerable at the same time. You knew the tension between you had been building up for years, and now it was on the verge of exploding.

"Are you jealous Matt?" you challenged, smirking. Let me get one thing straight, you shouldn't be bothered by who I talk to or dance with.

"I'm going to show you who you belong to." He whispered in your ear and before you could protest he kissed you.

He found you against the wall, his lips crushing against yours in a fierce kiss that seemed to distill all the rage pent up between you. It was an uncontrolled kiss, full of passion and hatred, and the line between the two of you quickly blurred. When you finally broke apart, you were both panting.

“I hate you so much,” he murmured, his breathing ragged as his eyes fixed on you with an intense heat. “But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your response was almost automatic. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”

He didn’t wait any longer. He led you to the bed in the bedroom, and his hands began to roam your body, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Every kiss and every touch was a declaration of war and desire, and there was no turning back.

He took you into a whirlwind of sensations. He began to undress you slowly, as if he was enjoying every second, every little victory. The friction between rage and desire was palpable in the air, as if the room was about to explode. His hands explored every corner of your body, letting desire take over both of you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he whispered as his lips moved down your neck.

“And you’re an idiot,” I replied, feeling the rage you used to feel transform into overwhelming desire.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Matt kept his gaze fixed on you, desire burning in his eyes. The tension between you had reached a breaking point. Boiling, and there was no turning back.

Anticipation grew as his hands slid down your sides, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses on your abdomen. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he promised, his tone a mix of certainty and defiance. But there was a warning in his gaze. He knew he wanted to play, and so did you.

Matt lowered himself slowly, his breath warm against your skin. It took you by surprise when his mouth closed around you. An involuntary moan escaped your lips as his tongue worked beautifully, licking and sucking with a skill that made you lose control. The way he looked at you, with those eyes filled with desire, made you feel more vulnerable and aroused at the same time.

The combination of his attention and the growing pleasure brought you to the edge, but just when you felt like you were about to explode, Matt stopped.

“I’m not going to let you finish that easy, baby,” he said in a whisper, looking up, and his eyes were filled with a mix of anger and desire.

At that moment, you felt like you were capable of anything. The rage that had built up for so long turned into pure lust. You gave yourself to him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations he offered you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the fabric of your dress as he slowly pulled it up, exposing the skin of your tits. The room was permeated with an air charged with defiance and attraction, every movement between you causing a spark that could ignite the flame at any moment.

It took your breath away when his mouth found yours again. It was a fierce kiss, full of desperation and rage, every brush of his lips was like a reminder of all the battles you had fought in the past. He pushed you further into the pillows, his body pressing against yours, making a mix of pleasure and frustration run down your spine.

Matt pulled away for a moment, his assessing gaze sweeping over every inch of you. He knew he was in control. He held you tight, trapping your hands above your head and holding them firmly in place. The feeling of being completely at his mercy turned you on in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re not getting away today,” he said, whispering in your ear as his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he moved down again, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, each touch making you want more.

Matt’s hands roamed your body with meticulous precision, exploring every corner and curve as you tried to control the desire building inside you. The way he touched you was both a punishment and a pleasure, each brush of his fingers a reminder of how much he’d wanted this, how much you’d both wanted this.

His mouth continued its descent, leaving warm kisses on your chest. Every time his tongue brushed your skin, you felt like you were on the brink of insanity. But Matt had no intention of letting you go so easily. When his lips found your breast, he sucked hard, marking his territory as you gave yourself over to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You’re as stupid as you are beautiful,” he said between gasps, the tone of his voice heavy with contempt and desire, as his hands slid down your hips. You squirmed against him, seeking more, wanting what had begun to become something even more intense.

He released you for an instant, just so he could strip you completely, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as a symbol of your surrender. The feeling of being vulnerable before him, exposed and desired, awakened a side in you that only he could provoke.

Matt stood up, looking at you with that mix of defiance and desire that drove you crazy. He approached you again, and with a quick movement, he pushed you down onto the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft surface. He leaned over you, his body covering yours, the pressure of his weight making you feel trapped and aroused.

“Now I’m going to show you who’s boss here,” he declared, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made the air between you seem charged with electricity.

Without further ado, Matt plunged into you, filling you with his body as the room filled with sounds of passion and desperation. Every movement was a mix of strength and gentleness, as he entered you with a brutality that only he could combine with an almost fierce devotion.

Amidst broken whispers and gazes filled with desire, you feel how both of you leave behind any trace of arrogance or defiance, allowing yourselves to feel the pleasure, although neither of you admit it, you have always wanted. Matt intertwines his fingers with yours, holding you tightly as he continues to look at you with an intensity that makes you shudder.

“You drive me crazy,” he finally murmurs, with a sincerity that momentarily breaks through all the hatred between you.

Moans escaped your lips without you being able to contain them, and with each thrust, rage and desire intertwined in a wild dance. Matt kept up the pace, his hands squeezing your wrists as he penetrated you with unwavering fervor, making it clear to you who was in charge.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his voice low and husky as his body crashed into yours, the sound of his skin against yours echoing in the room. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answered, each word laden with surrender as your body moved in unison with his, feeling the line between pleasure and pain blur.

“Say it again,” he demanded, increasing the pace as his thrusts became deeper, more frantic. The room was filled with whispers and sighs, each sound fueling the unbridled passion that burned between you.

“You,” you repeated, each word an echo of your desire, the recognition that everything you had felt for him was coming to the surface in this explosion of madness.

“Good girl,” Matt says with a arrogant smile

The friction between your bodies was intense, and each thrust brought you closer to climax. The mix of pleasure and rage was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help it, desire taking over you, making you forget everything but the present moment. In an instant of pure connection, feeling the barriers that had existed between you melt away, you let the pleasure sweep you away, allowing the world around you to fade away.

Matt finally found his own climax, his eyes locked on you, filled with a mix of triumph and insatiable desire. The two of you found yourselves in a whirlwind of sensations, each of you taking the other to new levels of pleasure and surrender.

When you finally stopped, both of you panting, the room was filled with a silence laden with meaning. You knew that nothing would ever be the same again, that the line that had once separated your hatred from desire had been blurred forever.

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Tags... @bsturnzmtt @leannking @sturniololover69 @bells-sturn @sturnedits <3

[mymindcreatedthis]

Owed pleasure 18+

Y/n x Christen Press x Mal Pugh

Warning: Smut! Smut! Smut!

WC: 7.3k

*Y/n’s pov* 

I moan in pleasure as the tip of my dick hits the back of Roses throat. I moan as she continues to suck the soul out of my dick. 

Mal smirks and watches. "You like that? Mals mouth around your dick sucking you off?" Mal asks seductively. 

I moan and nod. "It feels really good." I moan, Rose bobs her head faster.

The back of her throat could make me cum alone. Chris and the team laugh and smile as they continue to watch Rose give me a blowjob. 

I moan in pleasure, after 10 minutes of an amazing blow job I feel my balls tighten. 

"F-Fuck, I'm close." I moan. 

Rose bobs her head faster and faster. "Rose I'm go-" I'm unable to warn her in time. I bust my load in her mouth. 

Rose chokes and gags a bit as I cum in her mouth, she swallows my load. She cleans up the rest of my cum and swallows it. 

"S-Shit, you really know how to suck dick." I moan. 

"I thought she was a virgin." Kelly says. 

"She is, she's never had sex before." Mal replies. 

"Well she knows what she's doing." I moan. 

Rose bobs her head faster and faster. 

“F-Fuck." I moan. 

The team laughs and continues to watch as Rose continue to give me head. 

Rose bobs her head faster. "A-Shit, I'm gonna cum buckets of you keep doing that." I moan. 

Rose continues bobbing her head going a bit faster. After 5 minutes of an amazing blow job, I feel my balls tighten. 

"R-Rose, baby I'm close." I moan. 

Rose continues bobbing her head. "Rose I'm gonna cu-" I'm unable to warn her in time. I bust my load in her mouth. 

Rose chokes and gags a bit as I cum in her mouth. Rose swallows my load and licks up the rest of my cum. She swallows the rest of my cum. 

"S-Shit." I moan. 

Rose takes my dick out of her mouth. Rose giggles and kisses me. "Mm you taste amazing." 

I blush darkly. "T-Thanks." 

Rose leans in whispering in my ear. "After the game tomorrow if you score 3 goals I'll let you fuck me and cum inside me." 

I blush darkly and nod. 

"Nice one Rose." Tobin says.

 "T-Thanks." Rose says.

————————

*Christen’s Pov* 

We finished playing the game. I yawn and look at the time. It was 10:30 pm, and some of the girls had fallen asleep by now. 

Tobin was sitting on the ground with Rose, Ash and Alex and playing a game. I grab my phone and text Mal and Tobin. 

Me: Guys I’m really horny from the truth or dare game. I couldn't help but check out Y/n’s cock and get super wet at the thought of feeling her deep inside me. 

Mal: Mm me to Chris, I was horny from holding her from behind and massaging tits and feeling her ass against my lap. 

Tobin: Yeah it was really sexy to watch. 

I bite my lip and look at Tobin. Tobin looks at me and smirks. I bit my lip, I slipped my hand in my shorts and rubbed my clit, something I did to let Tobin know that I was horny and really needed to cum. 

Tobin smirks and texts me. I grab my phone and check it. I bite my lip and get wet as I read her text. 

Tobin: Yes baby girl she has my permission. But tomorrow, You, Y/n and I are fucking. 

Me: Yes Toby. Thank you. I need to cum so bad. 

Tobin: You can take them back to our room.

Me: Okay, how should I get them to come to our room? 

Tobin: Lie to them and tell them that there’s more snacks and alcohol in our room and that you need help carrying it. 

Me: Okay, thank you Toby. 

I text Mal. I didn’t wanna lie to her and I informed her about my plan. Mal looks at me and smirks. 

“Hey Y/n. Can you come with me and Mal real quick? There's more snacks and alcohol in mine and Tobin’s room and I need help carrying them back here.” I say. 

Y/n nods and smiles. “Yeah sure I can give you a hand.” 

We put our shoes on and head back to mine and Tobin’s room. While we are walking back Mal and I start teasing Y/n grabbing each other's asses and squeezing each other's asses. 

*Y/n’s Pov* 

I moan and bite my lip and get hard as Chris and Mal tease me and tease each other and slap and squeeze each other's asses. 

“Come on daddy. Touch our asses, you know you want to.” Mal says seductively as she shakes her ass. 

I blush darkly, I smile and grab their asses. They both giggle and moan as I squeeze their asses and slap their asses. Christen unlocks the door and lets us into the room. 

I flip on the lights and look around. “Where’s the Snacks and Alcohol?” I questioned. 

I blush darkly as Christen closes the door behind us and locks it. Mal and Chris smirk and move towards me. I moan as Chris massages my tits as Mal kisses my neck and rubs my bulge. 

“There’s no snacks or Alcohol baby. We brought you here so you can fuck us. We got really turned on while playing truth or dare.” Chris says. 

I blush darkly. “B-But you're with T-Tobin.”

“It’s okay baby. Tobin is okay with this but she request that’s you fuck me and her tomorrow.” Christen says giggling. 

I blush darkly. “Are you girls sure about this? I don’t have a condom on me.” 

“It’s okay baby we don’t need condoms. We are on a pill.” Christen says. 

I bite my lip and get slightly hard as Christen and Mal strip their clothes and get naked in front of me. They giggle, they drop to their knees and slide my shorts and boxers down and toss them off to the side. 

My cock springs out and full at attention once it’s freed from its confinement. I moan as Mal and Christen spit on my cock. I moan as Christen kisses up and down my thighs as Mal takes my balls in her mouth. 

I began to hit hard as Christen kissed my thighs and Mal sucked on my balls. Christen licked along my length as she took my length in her mouth and began to suck my dick.

"Fuck babe, such a good girl." I moan as I grip her hair putting her hair into a ponytail.

She gripped my thighs, as she sped up her sucking gagging as my tip hit the back of her throat. Spot going everywhere as she began to tear up from the continuous gagging.

My dick plops out Christen’s mouth, a string of spit still connecting us together. She takes my dick and slaps it against her tongue as well as her cheeks, rubbing it along her lips before taking it back in her mouth and continuing to give me head. 

"Fuck Christen, please keep going I'm gonna cum buckets." I moaned, gripping her ponytail a bit tighter. 

She listens to my request as she gargled my length in her mouth letting it hit the back of her throat. Sliding all the way down her throat like she was swallowing me whole. 

Throat pie: 

I didn't have time to warn Christen as I explode inside her mouth, filling her mouth up with my seed causing her to gag from the sudden liquid oozing into her kit and traveling down her throat. 

"Fuck, swallow my cum like a good girl." I moan, pressing her head further down on my cock making her swallow my cum. 

She swallows every drop, not leaving any behind. "Hehe you let it all out, didn't you baby." Christen giggles as she wiped her mouth clean. 

I was going crazy, my legs shaking the dark look Christen was giving me as she stayed on her knees looking at my cock swallowing the last bit of cum in her mouth. Without saying a word, she took my cock back in her mouth and started to give me another blowjob. 

"Uuuhhh Fuck, Chris fuck." I moaned quietly as Christen began to suck my cock once again. 

The cheeky look Christen gave me as she got faster made my eyes roll to the back of my head. Her spit dripped down my balls as she continued to gag on my cock, my cock sliding down her throat as she deepthroated me, her hand snaking up my leg to play with my balls, covered In her Silva. 

"C-Christen, I'm... I'm close." I moan, my hand finding the back of her head once again. 

Christen listened to my words as she began to deep throat me faster. My precum leaked down her throat letting her know I was about to explode. 

Throat pie #2: 

"Fuuuuck." I moaned as my eyes slammed shut. My cum shooting out into Christen’s mouth once again making her gag as her mouth got filled up with my seed. 

"Such a good girl for me." I moaned as I guided her head up and down on my length for the final time. 

Christen wiped her mouth for the second time before getting up from her knees. Leaning in and planting a kiss onto my lips, the biggest smile on her face.

Mal giggles and goes next. I smile and rub her lips with my thumb. “Suck my cock Mal. Get my cock ready for Chris’s pussy.” 

"Yes daddy." Mal says. 

I bite my lip, Mal locks eyes with me and takes my cock in her mouth. I moan, my hand finds the back of her head. 

"Fuck Mal your mouth is so nice." I moan, leaning my head back as Mal continues to suck my cock. 

She places her hands on my thighs as she continues to give me head.

 "Fuck Mal  fuck, keep going ugh."I moaned as my grip in her hair tightened as she bobs her head faster. Her Silva going all over her lips dripping down her chin. She continued to feel my throat, I moaned loudly in pleasure as I took her left boob in my hand and squeezed it lightly as I felt my balls tighten. 

*Throat pie 3*

"Ooh fuck, Mal fuck." I moaned. I didn't have time to warn her Mal as I held down her head on my cock as I exploded in her mouth and down her throat. 

Mal choking and gagging on my cum. "Fuck Mal." I moaned. 

Mal lifts her head and swallows my load. I smirk as Mal wipes the leftover spot and cum off her face. I smirk and gently grab her throat, Mal moans as I do this to her. 

"Did I say you could stop?" I say. 

Mal blushes darkly, she wastes no time and takes my cock back in her mouth. I giggle and moan and run my fingers through her hair. 

I grab my phone and start recording a video. Mal looks up at the camera, she hums against my dick and bobs her head a bit faster. I moan as she plays with my balls and swirls her tongue around my tip. 

"Fuck girls. Mal is a pro at sucking dick." I moaned as I continued to record Mal giving me head. 

Mal grips my thighs and bobs her head faster and faster as she continues to play with my balls and sucks the soul out of my cock. 

"I'm going to cum buckets if you keep doing that." I moan loudly in pleasure. 

I gripped the sheets with one hand as she was making me closer to cumming. My balls tighten as my cock hits the back of her throat. 

"Fuck Mal I...." 

*Throat pie 4*

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in her mouth. Mal chokes and gags a bit as I cum in her mouth. Mal takes my cock out of her mouth. She places my tip on her lips and strokes my cock helping me ride out my high collecting the last of my cum in her mouth. 

Mal smiles and shows the camera a mouth full of cum. Some of my cum drips down her chin, I smile and rub her chin. 

"Swallow my load Mal." I say. 

Mal smiles and swallows my load. "Mmm fuck." I moan as I watch her swallow my load. 

Mal cutely smiles and wipes the rest of my cum off her face. She giggles and blows a kiss at the camera. I giggle and send the girl we just played truth or dare with the video. 

I smile and rub Mal’s chin with my thumb. “Good girl.” I moan and watch as Chris and Mal make out and swap my left over cum from each other's mouths. 

Mal and Chris break the kiss. Chris smiles and looks at me. “Sit on the bed baby.” Christen says. 

I smirk, I sit on the bed. I sit on my legs and put my legs together under my ass sitting on them.  Chris joins me on the bed, she sits on my lap and guides my length inside her. 

We both moan as she takes my length deep inside her. Chris moans and leans her head back on my shoulder. I moan, I grab her tit with one hand and firmly place my hand on her hip. 

Chris cutely giggles and moans as I kiss and lick her neck. Chris moans and takes a moment to adjust to my size. 

Chris giggles. “This pussy feel good clenched around you baby?” 

I moan and nod. “Mm so tight and warm.” 

Chris moans and slowly moves back and forth on my cock. I moan and kiss her neck leaving hickys and roughly massage her tits. I moan as Chris slowly slides back and forth on my cock. 

I squeeze her hip a bit tighter and smash my lips against hers. Chris breaks the kiss and rests her head Against mine. Chris moans loudly in pleasure and moves back and forth on my cock faster. 

I moan as the urge to cum gets stronger. “Ugh f-fuck.” I moan in pleasure. 

It’s only been 10 minutes and I’m already about to bust. Chris moans and leans her head back and moves back and forth on my cock even  faster. I moan, I reach down and rub her clit. 

Chris gasps and moans as I do this. “Mm fuck…fuck.” Chris moans. As she continues to move back and forth on my cock. 

I moan in pleasure, Chris breathing gets heavier letting me know she was close to cumming. 

“Mm… someone close?” Chris moans. 

I moan and grip her hip. “Mm fuck, I’m really close.” 

Chris giggles and moans. “I can feel your balls about to explode.” Chris moans. “You’re throbbing so much in there.” Chris moans. 

I moan,  Chris moans and cums.

*creampie 1*

I moan loudly in pleasure, I can’t take it anymore and let go. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up her entrance filling her up to the brim. 

“You’re filling me up.” She moans. “So warm inside me.” Chris moans. 

We both moan as Chris slowly moves back and forth on my cock helping us ride out our highs collecting the last of my load in her pussy. 

We both moan as my cum leaks and oozes out of her and onto the sheets as she continues to move back and forth on my cock slowly. 

“That’s it, give it all to me.” Chris moans. 

I moan as the last of my cum unloads in her pussy. Chris moans, she smiles and kisses me deeply. I smile against her lips and kiss back. We both moan as Chris slowly gets up. 

My cock falls limp, cum immediately oozes out of her and oozes onto the sheets. I giggle as Chris moans and rubs her clit admiring the sticky mess I left behind in her pussy. 

Chris and Mal swap, I smile I sit on the bed. Mal smiles and joins me on the bed, I stretch my legs out a bit. Mal smiles and sits on my lap. Mal  sits on my lap horizontally her tits touching mine. 

I wrap one arm around her and wrap my other arm under her thighs. We both moan as I pull her onto my cock.

I smile and kiss her as I slowly slide her up and down on my cock. We both moan in the kiss as I do this. 

Mal breaks the kiss and rests her head against mine. “Mm f-fuck you’re me put so good.” Mal moans. 

Mal giggles and bites her lip. “Mm I’m feeling a lot of throbbing in there.” Mal moans. 

“Mm fuck Mal, mm you feel so good.” I moan. 

“Mm you feel so good baby.” Mal moans. 

I moan and slide her up and down on my cock a bit faster. “Mm fuck, so wet and warm.” I moan in pleasure. “Ugh your pussy feels so good to clenched around me.” 

We both moan as her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. 

“Mm I’m gonna fill you up with so much cum.” I moan. 

“Yeah daddy?” Mal moans. 

“Mm Y-Yes.” I moan in pleasure as I move her up and down on my cock faster and faster. “Mm so fucking good.” I moan in pleasure. 

Mal moans and giggles. “You like my ass sliding up and down on your cock?” Mal asks moaning in pleasure. 

I moan and nod. “It feels really good.” I moan. 

“Mm yes give me your load.” Mal moans in pleasure. “Mm fuck Y/n baby I’m close.” Mal moans. “Ahh I’m squirting! I’m squaring.” Mal moans. 

I smile as I feel her body tremble and shake in my arms. she squirts all over my cock, thighs and all over the bed sheets. 

“Mmm….shit I’m gonna cum.” Mal moans. 

I moan and smile as Mal cums all over my cock. I moan as the urge to cum gets stronger. “Mm fuck I’m close.” I moan. 

“Mm I feel your precum oozing inside me.” Mal moans. “Mm fill up my pussy…. Plant your seed deep inside me.” Mal says seductively. 

“Oh my god!” Mal moans as I slide her up and down in my cock faster. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” Mal Cries out in pleasure. 

I moan as I continue to stretch out her wet warm pussy. I moan as her skin slaps against mine. I moan and slide her up and down on my cock faster and faster. 

“Mm f-fuck your stretching out my pussy so good.” Mal cutely moans and shudders in pleasure. “Mmm fuck you’re so deep inside me.” Mal moans. 

I moan and slide her up and down in my cock faster and harder. “Fuck yes! Right there!” Mal moans in pleasure. 

“Mm f-fuck.” I cry out in pleasure. “So fucking good.” I moan and continue to slide her up and down on my cock.

“Mm fuck Mal baby…. Mm I’m gonna cum.” 

“Give me that cum.” Mal moans. 

I moan as my balls tighten. Mal moans and cums all over my cock. 

*Creampie 2* 

I can’t take it anymore. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Mal’s entrance filling her up to the brim. 

“O-Oh my G-God.” Mal moans as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her. 

Mal moans as I slowly slide her up and down on my cock as I unload my seed inside her. 

“Mm fuck yes give me your cum.” Mal moans. “Plant your thick load inside me.” 

We both moan as I slowly slide her up and down on my cock helping us ride out our highs. The last of my cum oozing inside her pussy. We both moan as I lift her up and slowly pull out of her. 

My cock falls limp. Cum immediately oozes and drips out of her pussy and drips onto my thighs, cock and onto the sheets. Mal giggles and kisses me, I smile against her lips and kiss back.  

“Mm fuck babe you filled me up with so much cum.” Mal moans as our mixed cum continues to drip and ooze out of her. 

I giggle, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close to me. We catch our breaths and continue I go to sit up but giggle as Chris pushes me back onto the bed. 

Chris giggles and pushes me back onto the bed. I giggle and squeal as she does this. Chris joins me on the bed and straddles me. 

Chris straddles me she lines my dick up with her pussy. Chris puts my tip in her and slowly sinks down on my dick taking my length deep inside her. 

We both moan as I'm deep inside her pussy. Chris grabs my boobs and takes a moment to adjust to my size. 

"Fuck I thought you were big in my mouth. I feel so full with you deep inside me." Chris moans. 

Me and Chris both moan as she slowly slides up and down on my dick.

"Mmm fuck, so wet and tight." I moan in pleasure. Chris slides up and down on my dick faster and faster. 

"Mmm fuck daddy you're really deep in there." Chris moans. Her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. I moan and spank her ass. Chris moans and goes faster and harder.

"F-Fuck." I moan in pleasure. 

Chris moans and massages my boobs as she keeps riding my dick going harder. "Gah fuck, it feels so good." Chris moans.

"Mmm you Like that baby? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out?" I ask. 

Chris moans and grips the top of the head board. As she goes faster and faster. "Fuck daddy, I love it. I love you stretching me out." Chris moans. 

I moan loudly as I feel myself getting close to cumming. "Gah Chris, slow down a bit. I'm gonna cum." I moan in pleasure. 

Chris cutely giggles and moans.

"That's the point baby. I'm gonna drain your balls and collect every drop of your cum." Chris says. 

Fuck that may have been the hottest thing I've heard. I moan and watch Chris as she continues to ride me. 

"You close baby? You gonna bust your load deep inside my pussy?" Chris asks seductively. 

"Mmm I'm gonna pump you full of cum." I moan in Pleasure.

Chris grips the head board tightly and rides my dick faster and harder. I moan loudly in pleasure as I feel myself getting close to cumming.

"Chris baby, I'm gonna cum." Loudly in pleasure. 

*Creampie 3*

I moan in pleasure. I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Chris moans and cums all over my dick, we both moan as I continue to shoot ropes of cum inside her and paint her walls white. We both moan as I continue to pump her full of cum. 

Chris gasps and moans as I continue to cum inside her. "Mmm fuck there's so much." Chris moans. 

I help Chris ride out her high, once we both come down from our highs Chris closely climbs off my dick. Thick cum ooze and pours out of her and drips down her thighs and drips onto my lap, my dick and onto the bed and sheets. 

"Mmm fuck." Chris moans as my cum continues to ooze out of her. I smile and kiss Chris. Chris moans in the kiss as my cum continues to ooze and drip out of her. 

Mal and Chris swap. I lay on the bed, Mal joins me on the bed I lay her on top of me her back to me tits. 

I spread her legs with mine. I smirk as she's now in reverse cowgirl. 

Mal moans and shudders as I rub her clit with my dick. "Mmm fuck." She moans. I smirk as her legs shake and buckle in pleasure as I do this. 

"Put it in. Put it in daddy." Mal cutely begs. 

"Mmm yeah slut? You want daddy's dick inside you?" I ask, teasing her.

"Mmm fuck please daddy, Ive been such a good girl. I'm such a slut for your dick and cum. Please, I want more." Mal says. 

I smirk and grant her wish. I slide my dick inside her, Mal moans as she takes my 11 inches  deep inside her. I moan as her walls immediately clench around me. 

Mal moans and leans back against me as my dick is back inside her cum filled pussy. I place my hands on her hips, I spread her legs a bit more with mine and slowly thrust up into her pussy. 

"Mmm fuck, right there. Ugh just like that." Mal moans. 

I moan in pleasure and thrust up into her faster. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room, fuck her pussy felt so good. She had an amazing grip, her pussy felt like heaven. Mmm so Wet and warm. 

"Fuck baby you're so tight and warm." I moan. 

I thrust up into her faster and harder. Mal screams in pleasure and grips the sheets, I make her look at me and make out with her. We both moan in the kiss as I continue to bottom out in her pussy. 

We break the kiss, we rest our heads against each other's. "Feels so good, you're not pulling out babe, you're not pulling out until you cum in me." Mal moans. 

I smirk. "Yeah slut? You want more, such a naughty girl." 

We both moan as I thrust up into her pussy faster and harder. "Fuck, I'm gonna squirt!" Mal screams in pleasure.

I smirk, I slap and tease her clit. Mal moans and shudders as I do this, Mal moans loudly in pleasure and squirts.

I smirk as I feel some of her juices go on my thigh. She squirts on the blankets and sheets. 

We both moan, I continue to thrust up into her faster and harder. I moan as I feel myself getting closer to cumming.

"M-Mal baby I'm close." I moan. 

"Me too. Don't stop, don't stop." Mal moans. 

My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. I rub her clit with my thumb at a fast pace.

My breathing gets heavier letting Mal know that I was close to cumming. 

"Yes cum in me, cum in me." Mal moans. 

I moan loudly In pleasure as I feel that all too familiar feeling in my balls. 

*Creampie 4*

I can't take it anymore, I thrust up into her and bust my load deep inside her. Mal moans and cums all over my dick.

We both moan as cum oozes and spurts inside her painting her walls white. 

I slowly thrust up into Mal. I helped Mal ride out her high. I slowly thrust up into her as the last of my cum oozes and spurts inside her. 

I moan and slowly pull out of her, my dick falls limp. Cum immediately pours out of her. Cum coats her folds and drips onto the blankets and sheets. 

I smile and kiss her. Mal smiles against my lips and kisses back. I smile and kiss her again. 

“Mm I’ve been needing this release all night.” I say. 

Chris and Mal giggle. “Us too.” 

Chris smiles and pushes me back onto the bed. Chris straddles me. We both moan as Chris guides my length inside her. 

I moan and place my hands on her ass. Chris smiled and kissed me, we both moaned in the kiss as Chris slowly twerked on my dick. 

Chris breaks the kiss, she rests her head gassing mine. She moans from the friction and twerks a bit faster. 

"Ugh f-fuck." I moan in pleasure. 

Chris moans and continues to twerk on my dick. I moan and spank and squeeze her ass. Chris giggles and moans as I do this, Chris moans and continues to twerk on my dick. 

I bit my lip, I could feel how wet she was as her pussy swallowed me up perfectly. We both moan Chris goes a bit faster. 

"F-Fuck Chris." I moan and lay my head on the pillow behind me. 

Chris and the girls giggle at my comment. "Mm fuck feels so good." Chris moans. 

I smile and bite my lip as I feel her juices on my dick. Fuck the urge to cum was getting stronger and it's only been 10 minutes. 

Chris giggles and moans as she feels my cock throbbing and my precum leak inside her and drips down her folds. 

Chris smiles. "Someone close?" She teases. 

I moan in pleasure. "Ugh I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fill you up Chris." I moan and squeeze her ass. 

Chris giggles and moans. Chris moans in pleasure and twerks on my dick going faster and faster than before.

We both moan in pleasure Chris moans and cums. 

*Creampie 5* 

I moan and let go. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Chris’s entrance filling her up to the brim. Chris gasps and moans as I paint her walls white.

Chris moans and slowly twerks on my dick collecting the last of my cum inside her pussy. 

I bite my lip as some of my cum oozes out of her and drips down my cock. Chris moans and slowly slides off my cock. Chris moans as my cum immediately oozes out of her.

Cum drips down her folds and thighs and drips onto my abs, thighs, cock and all over the sheets. I giggle and spank her ass. Chris giggles and moans as I spank her ass. 

Chris moans and lays in the bed panting and trying to catch her breath as my cum continues to ooze out of her. 

Mal giggles as she moves onto the bed and gets on all fours. Mal giggles and shakes her ass. “Come on daddy I need more of that cock.” 

I bite my lip, and check out her ass as she shakes it. I smirk, I get up and get behind her. I slap her ass, Mal moans and jumps as I slap her ass. 

"Fuck daddy I love when you spank me." Mal moans. 

She moans as I slap her ass again. I smirk and rub my dick through her cum filled pussy. 

"Such a good slut." I moan as I slide my dick back inside her cum filled pussy. 

We both moan, I place my hand on her hip. I grab her hair with my other hand I wrap her hair around my hand.

I slowly thrust in and out of her as I pulled her hair. 

"Fuck....fuck....fuck." Mal squeaks out with each thrust. 

"Like that baby? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out?" I ask, teasing her. 

Mal moans and nods. "Fuck yes, I love your dick deep inside me stretching me out." 

Mal moans and throws her ass back against me as I continue to fuck her cum filled pussy faster and faster as I pull her hair. I pull her close to me.

We both moan as this causes my dick to go a bit deeper inside her. Shit this is so good I'm balls deep inside her. 

"Shit I don't think I'll last long, babe.

Ugh, your grip is amazing." I moan loudly in pleasure. 

Mal giggles and moans throwing her ass against me sliding back and forth on my dick faster helping me out. 

"I guess I should help you out and make you cum deep inside me huh?" Mal moans. 

I moan loudly as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. Fuck her pussy was tight and warm and felt like heaven. 

"Mmm I'm close." I moan. 

"Ugh shit....me too." Mal moans. 

I moan loudly, my balls slapping against her skin as our moans fill the room. I moan loudly in pleasure as her walls clench around my dick.

Mal throws her ass back against me as she slides back and forth on my dick faster and faster. Fuck shes really gonna make me cum. 

"Ahh Mal baby I'm close." I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer. 

Mal moans and goes faster and harder. I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming. Mal screams in pleasure and squirts again.

Mal squirts all over my dick, and on the bed sheets. 

"Baby, I'm really close." I moan. 

I feel that all too familiar feeling in my balls as Mal goes faster and faster. 

*Creampie 6*

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Mal moans and cums all over my dick.

We both moan as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her painting her walls white. 

"Fuck I feel so full." Mal moans. 

I smirk, I help Mal ride out her high. Once we both come down from our highs, I slowly pull out of her. Cum oozes out of her and glazes her folds and drips down her thighs and onto the bed. 

I slap her ass again. Mal moans as I slap her ass, I lean down and kiss her ass. Mal giggles and bites her lip as she looks back and watches me kiss her ass. 

“Mm fuck.” Mal giggles. “I bet you loved my ass from this angle.” 

I giggle and nod. “Yes I did. Your ass looked fucking amazing in this angle.” 

I smile and look at Chris. I smirk and pick her up. Chris giggles and squeals as I pick her up. 

I push the tip of my dick in her and slowly sinks down her down on my dick we both moan as she takes my length deep inside her tight pussy. 

"Mmm fuck. You're really deep in there." Chris moans.

I rest my head against hers and look deep into her eyes. "So wet and tight." I moan. "I'm gonna destroy your tight pussy slut." 

"Yeah daddy?" Chris moans. 

"Yeah slut. I'm gonna destroy your pussy and pump you full of cum. I'm gonna drain my balls in you." I moan as I slowly slide her up and down on my dick. 

"Mmm I'm your cum slut daddy." Chris moans. 

"Mmm you're my cum dumpster slut." I moan as I move her up and down on my dick faster and faster. 

"Mmm please daddy turn me into your cum dumpster.” Chris moans in pleasure as I move her up and down on my dick a bit harder and faster than before. 

"Mmm so fucking good. I don't think I can last much longer, baby. You have an amazing grip." I moan in pleasure. 

"Mmm fuck yes give me your load." Chris moans in pleasure. 

"Yeah your a slut for daddy's cum you want daddy's cum deep inside your tight pussy?" I ask seductively as I slide her up and down on my dick faster and faster than before. 

The only sounds in the room was the tv in the background and our moans and my balls slapping against her skin. 

"Mmmm fuck daddy I'm close. Ahhh I'm squirting I'm squirting." Chris moans I feel her shake and buckle against me as she squirts all over my dicks,thighs and all over the ground. 

"Let go baby. Cum for daddy." I say seductively. 

*Christen’s pov* 

Holy fuck this felt amazing. Y/n was balls deep inside me. God I was so close to cumming and it's only been 10 minutes. 

"Let go baby. Cum for daddy." Y/n nips my ear and whispers. Her words made me weak. She was so sexy when she was a Dom.

She's really deep in there. Mmmm she feels so fucking good balls deep inside me. 

I moaned in pleasure as my walls clenched around her, I was close to cumming. I couldn't take it anymore, I moaned and threw my head back. My eyes roll to the back of my head. 

I can't take it anymore and cum all over her dick. Some of my cum drips down her dick. 

Me cumming sends Y/n over the edge. Y/n busts her load deep inside me. I gasp and moan as she fills me up with her load. 

"Oh my g-god." I moan as she shoots thick ropes of sticky cum deep inside me. I sigh in pleasure as I feel her warm juices oozing inside me. 

Y/n Cutely moans in my ear and nips in my ear. Fuck shes still unloading her massive seed deep inside me.  

"Mmm fuck, give me all your cum." I moan and dig my nails in her back as she comes down from her high. Cum still oozing inside me. 

I moan. "Mmm use your dick and stuff your cum inside me no cum better drip out of my pussy." I sexily moan. 

*Y/n’s  pov*

*Creampie 7*

I feel Chris cum all over me, her cumming sends me over the edge. I unload my massive load deep inside her pussy. 

We both moan as I stuff her full with my seed. Chris moans and throws her head back her eyes roll to the back of her head as I fill her up with my cum. 

"Mmm fuck give me all your cum." Chris moans in pleasure. She digs her nails in my back as I continue to unload my massive seed deep in her pussy. 

I moan. Chris moans and looks me deep in the eyes. 

"Mmm use your dick and stuff your cum inside me no cum better drip out of my pussy." Chris sexily moans. 

I do as she requests I use my dick as a plug and stuff my cum deep inside her making sure no cum drips out. 

"Mmm such a cum slut." I moan. 

"Heheh you stuffed my pussy full of cum daddy.” Chris whispers and nips my ear. 

We both moan as I help slide her off my dick and set her down. I smile as Mal grabs my hand and leads me towards the bed.

Mal smirks and lays on the edge of the bed. I rub my dick through her folds. I slowly slide my dick inside her.

We both moan as her walls immediately clench around my dick. "Mmm tell me when to move baby." 

Mal nods, she takes a moment to adjust to my size. "Mmm fuck your so big." 

I smirk, I lean down and kiss her. Mal kisses back. 

"M-Move." Mal moans. 

I rest my head against Mal’s and look deep into her eyes as I slowly thrust in and out of her. 

*Mal’s pov* 

I moan in pleasure as Y/n slowly thrusts in and out of me. Fuck she's really deep inside me, I can feel her massive dick throbbing inside me. She really needed a release, I moan and rested my head against hers. 

I look down and watch her dick slowly slide in and out of me. Fuck she was balls deep inside me, she was so sexy her cute moans as she thrust into me a bit faster than before. 

I moan, I reach down and grip her ass as she thrusts into me a bit faster than before. I moan loudly in pleasure. 

"Mmm fuck you're really deep in there." I moan in pleasure. 

"Yeah? You like that baby? Daddy balls deep inside you stretching out your walls?" She questions as she goes faster and faster.

"Mmm I love it." I moan in pleasure as her balls slap against my skin and our moans fill the room.

Fuck she was so sexy when she is a Dom. Her being a Dom made my legs weak and made me super wet. 

It was a major turn on. I moan in pleasure, my walls clench around her. It's only been 10 minutes and I was already about to cum. 

"Mmm, someone close?" Y/n asks seductively. 

"Mmm I'm close baby, I'm gonna cum." I moan in pleasure. 

"Let go baby. Cum for daddy." Y/n sexily whispers in my ear.

I moan and she kisses on my neck leaving hickys. I moan as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. 

"Mmm I'm gonna squirt." I moan. 

I squirt all over her abs, her dick and all over her thighs and all over the sheets. Y/n smirks and keeps going. Y/n goes at an angle and starts to hit my G spot. 

Y/n and I both moan in pleasure. I moan and wrap my legs around her waist and pull her closer to me and leg trap her so she can't pull out. 

"Mmm fuck so tight." Y/n cutely moans out in pleasure. 

I pull her down and wrap my arms and legs around her as she continues to thrust in and out of me faster and harder. I moan and kiss her, we both moan in the kiss. She breaks the kiss and places her face in the crook of my neck. 

Fuck she has amazing dick game. Y/n moans and kisses my neck as she thrusts in and out of me harder and faster. Her balls slap against my skin as our moans fill the room. 

I feel her dick throbbing inside me, she was super hard and really needed a release.

I moan as I feel that familiar knot forming in my stomach. I moan and grip the sheets. 

"Y/n baby, I'm close." I moan in pleasure. 

"Ugh me too baby." Y/n moans. 

I feel her precum leak inside me letting me know that she was close to cumming and desperately needed a release.

My legs shake in pleasure as she continues to pound my g spot. I feel my walls clench around her dick.

"Need to cum baby?" Y/n asks as she moans in pleasure. 

"So damn bad." I moan in pleasure.

"Let go baby." Y/n moans as she fucks my brains out. I moan and squirt all over her abs and dick y/n moans in pleasure as she goes as fast and as hard as she can go. 

Y/n's breathing gets heavier letting me know that she was close to cumming.

"Yes, yes cum in me, I'm not letting you go until you cum in me." I moan in pleasure. 

I was as I saw pleasure on her face. Her face cutely contorts as she is about to bust her load deep inside me. 

"Mmm f-fuck." Y/n cutely moans in pleasure. 

I giggle. "Cum baby, cum in my slutty pussy." 

*Y/n's pov* 

I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. My breathing gets heavier letting her know that I was close to cumming. 

"Yes, yes cum in me. I'm not letting you go until you cum in me." Mal moans in pleasure. 

"Mmm fuck." I moan in pleasure. 

Mal giggles. "Cum baby, cum in my slutty pussy." Mal moans loudly in pleasure. 

*Creampie 8* 

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside Mal. Mal moans and cums all over my dick. We both moan as I shoot ropes of cum deep inside her and paint her walls white.

"Mmm fuck." Mal moans.

I rest my head against hers as I continue to slowly thrust in and out of her slowly pumping her full of cum.

I help Mal ride out her high, once we both come down from our highs I slowly pull out of her.

I moan and kiss Mal deeply. Mal smiles against my lips and kisses back.

Chris giggles and kisses me deeply. I smile against her lips and kiss back. 

“Mm fuck you girls emptied my balls.” I moan. 

They giggle and kiss me. “Mm hehe it was worth it though. We were long over for a release.” 

I smile and kiss them again. “Mm yes it was.” 

We shower together and lay in bed and end up falling asleep with my cock warming Christen and Mal’s front against my ass. Tomorrow I get to fuck Tobin and Christen. 

[smellslikechahnspirit]

[Book]

Are we good for each other?

6. Some explaining

Bang Chan x F. Reader

Synopsis: Written according to y/n trophy. A story about how you two met. Both having a difficult life, finding peace in each other. Not without lots of drama. Just read it, it's great.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, soft, some smut, drama

Warnings: Under eating, depression, toxic ex (Let me know if I missed something)

Word count: 2254

______________________________

[9:19 AM]

He helped you to the living room and back to the couch. You were super dizzy again, understandable, since the situation from moments ago, but you obviously still hadn’t eaten. “Come on, let’s get some energy back into your system. I ordered Pho. It’s my favourite, and I figured you might like it too. I’m gonna make sure you’re being healthy.”, he spoke as he put down the Pho in front of you, along with a spoon and some chopstick.

“I appreciate you a lot.”, you said and grabbed the chopsticks ready to eat. The only problem now was, that your hands were incredibly weak. You tried grabbing some noodles but failed, and again and again. Chris saw you struggling and took the wooden sticks from your hands. “Gosh I hate seeing you like this… here let me.”, he said as he got some of the noodles for you and brought them over to your mouth. “No, I wanna do it myself.”, you said softly and pouted, then took the sticks back into your own hands.

“Yea well this isn’t gonna work… you can’t hold them properly. You’ll give yourself a hand cramp. Wait, one second.”, he said and ran towards the kitchen. When he came back you already saw what he had in his hands, and started laughing. “No.”, you said. “Yes!”, he said back at you. He gave you the cute frog themed, kid chopsticks. He still had these laying around, from when Will and Ben came over.

You took them from him and finally was able to eat. It was amazing. “Wow, I’ve never had this dish before, but it’s insane…how did I not know about this?!”, you fake cried out, from happiness. “I know right…it’s like angels pissing on your tongue.”, he said. You both laughed at his funny comment.

As you both continued to eat the meal, Chris had put on something funny on his tv. After a while when you both were finished you kept on watching for a bit, laughing when a joke was made each time. Eventually you quieted town because you became sleepy. He watched you secretly as you dove off to dreamland.

[5:45 PM]

You heard a noise coming from somewhere, quickly opening your eyes. Turned out you and Chris fell asleep on the couch. You looked around with a blurry vision since you just woke up, and rubbed your eyes for a second.

Suddenly the front door opened. It was Jisung. He walked in also very exhausted but then for different reasons. Since he just spend the entire day training. When he looked up he saw you staring at him. He gave you a smile and waved. Then instantly dropped his bags and went to his bedroom.

When he plopped down on his bed, that’s when he realised what just happened. And got very confused. He got up as fast as he could and walked back over to the living room. You looked at him and he looked at you with big eyes. You tried getting up to greet him properly, but couldn’t really because of you leg.

He noticed and walked towards you. “Who are you an-”, he said but you interrupted him. “Shush, Chris is still sleeping hihi…I’m y/n, a friend of Felix. He asked me if I could help Chris out for his assignment, gaming. Nice to meet you!”, you said whispering. He gave you a bow and introduced himself as well. “So if you’re helping him out with gaming, why are you both here sleeping on our couch?”, he asked confused.

You decided to keep everything between you and Chris private for now, since you knew Chris would’ve felt the same way, since the job and all. “Well..”, you said. You explained everything that had happened this morning. The meeting up, the gym, the hospital.

Obviously you left out the part about you and Chris almost having sex. As both of you had the casual convo, he also told you about his day. You felt like you were getting closer to him already. You two seemed to share a lot of things and had a lot in common. He was a nice person you stated to yourself.

“Yeah so now I’m just waiting for the rest of the guys, since we promised each other to talk about our first days off together. They could be here any minute. We’re gonna have dinner together. We haven’t done that in a while since we live in separate dorms now of course.”, Jisung said. You liked that. You loved seeing best friends taking time for each other.

Even though they were colleagues and kinda had to be friends, they genuinely were and you admired that. “Around what time would they arrive did you say?”, you asked him. “Around six..”, he answered. You looked at the time on your phone. “Oh my gosh! that’s almost, I should leave…”, you said in a hurry wanting to get up.

Chris had woken up from your loud voice. “Hmmm…leave? Whut..”, he said all sleepy. Chris then realised Jisung got home, and instantly sat straight up. Wondering what you two have been discussing.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”, Jisung then asked him. He had been laying under a blanket for the last few hours and Jisung didn’t notice before. He ignored him, then got up very fast and got a shirt from his room. As he walked back into the living room he noticed the other guys arriving.

You said hi to all of them and properly meet them for real this time. Only a few minutes went by, everyone saying hi to you and explaining the situation AGAIN to everyone, when Jisung noticed Chris leaving the living room to get to the kitchen quietly. He walked after him.

“Hey.”, he said. “Hey.”, Chris said back. “So is there anything we need to know?”, Jisung said implying the scene from before, when nobody else arrived yet. “No, uh, it was just very hot and she has already fallen asleep. I just took it off and-“, Chris tried to cover his tracks, but stopped immediately since he is against lying, especially to his friend.

“Okay no sorry, I don’t wanna lie to you. But can you just forget about it for now. I don’t want to talk about it. Just trust me, nothing happened.”, Chris said to Jisung. Jisung just smiled and nodded. “I understand, just know if you wanna talk about literally anything, you can tell me, you know that right? Bro’s before hoes.”, Jisung said. It made Chris laugh and gave his friend a side hug. They both went back to the living room.

Chris saw you having a nice time, and saw how polite and nice you were to everyone. He always found that very important in people. He already liked you so much but that feeling was growing stronger and stronger. He thought about what had almost happened between you two this morning and got excited again. He decided to walk up to you, who was having a convo with Felix on the couch.

“Heeey…took a nice nap?”, he asked you, cutting off Felix, who was telling you a story. You turned around to face Chris and now looked at him. “Hey…yeah it was nice to get some genuine nap time for once hehe.”, you said.

Felix looked a bit irritated. You noticed. “Hey Chris, Felix just told me something about a new season coming from that game I played this morning, so exciting right?”, you said trying to lighten the mood. The only thing Chris could think of was you.

“Yeah, that sounds awesome. Hey I wanted to ask you…will you stay for dinner? We’re all eating here tonight, you might as well stay, or no?”, he asked, still paying no attention to his friend. You looked over at Felix. “Would you like it if I ate here too?”, you asked Felix.

He was about to answer, then Chris interrupted him again. “He won’t mind! Let’s go and pick out what we’re ordering!”, he said as he stood up, wanting you to come to his laptop to browse the food sites. “Wait, I was kind of in the middle of something with Felix… you just pick something with the others, as I said before I like all kinds of food.”, you said, wanting to stay with Felix. “Ah he doesn’t mind, come on… I want your opinion this time..”, Chris said, meaning no harm and was truthfully just excited for you to eat here again.

Yet he didn’t notice how uncomfortable you got due to his behaviour towards his so called best friend. “Well, I-“, you were about to speak again when Felix this time interrupted you. “What is your problem man?”, Felix asked him a bit angry. Everyone looked at the two now and were all very confused since these two NEVER fight.

“What do you mean, Felix?”, Chris asked, not understanding the problem. “Can’t you just leave her alone for a few minutes, you’ve spend the entire day with her, can I just have a nice conversation with my friend here?”, he spoke standing up now. Chris walked towards Felix, calmly since he truly didn’t get why his friend was so mad at him right now.

“Felix, calm down. Can you explain to me what’s going on?”, Chris replied. “You. You’re the problem. Why are you trying to claim y/n? I thought it would be nice to have a friend around, and help you out. But, it’s like you can’t take it when I talk to her for a second.”, Felix said.

To Chris this all came very unexpectedly, since they’ve only spend one single day together. “Bro, why are you so wined up right now, we were just having fun, what’s the big deal?”, Chris asked him as he hold Felix his shoulders trying to calm him down. But Felix stepped back and pushed his friend away. “Piss off…”, He said and walked away, into the kitchen to be alone.

You and everyone else were very confused and when they looked at you in question, you just shrugged. “Be right back…sorry.”, Chris said and walked after his friend. You hopped over to the kitchen as well, you just didn’t enter and waited at the door, but still able to hear their following conversation.

“Felix, I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you, it was never my intention, but please help me understand. This isn’t like you. What is truly going on?”, Chris asked him once more.

“You’re truly dense I see. I obviously have a thing for y/n…I have had a thing for her way before I met her in person. She was the only person I could tell secret things too and she never judged me. Not that I can’t trust any of you, but since she’s a girl, she just gets it differently. I thought having her at the company would be awesome, and turns out she’s incredible in real life too, let alone how drop dead gorgeous she is. And what do you do? You steal her from me. I know I do not own her in any way, but I met her first. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s not fair. I am angry at you Chris, why would you do this to me?”, Felix spoke as Chris watched him pace around the kitchen while telling his story.

Chris was hurt. Hurt because he hurt his best friend. “Felix…I didn’t know any of this…why didn’t you ever say anything?”, Chris asked. “Because everyone would’ve just warn me about the fact that online people could be dangerous and what not. I knew she wasn’t dangerous, but telling you…you would’ve just told me to stop contact. I didn’t wanna risk it.”, he said.

Chris looked at him worried. “Felix, if you would’ve told me how you felt about it all, I would’ve listened to you, like I always do. I’m your best friend…why would I ever intentionally want to take away your happiness?”, Chris said.

“Well, it seems like you have today. You two had fun today, didn’t you? I heard from Jeongin what happened at the gym, and about how you weren’t able to do any game training, the actually reason why she’s with you in the first place. She hated your guts. And now all of a sudden you both seem to get along very well. Did anything happen between you two? Did you kiss her? Come on tell me.”, Felix said almost crying due to anger.

He didn’t want this to be his reality, he would be so heart broken. Chris just stayed quiet.

Then you walked in. “I’m going home.”, you said softly. They both looked up at you surprised. Both wondering if you heard any of the convo between them. “No, don’t leave please...”, Chris said. “Please don’t go…”, Felix also said.

“I’m going, and neither of you are gonna say a single word. I’m done with this. How childish are you both? You’re best friends and you’re gonna let a girl like me come in between that in a single day?”, you said. They both looking down.

Both wanting to say something like, how you weren’t just any girl. But they stayed quiet. “You better make up, and figure this stupid shit out, other wise I’m not coming back tomorrow. Bye.”, you said and left. The boys were left together in the kitchen and both walked away. They each needed some time to think.

Part 7

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[sturnlova]

Busy ( M.S )

(Matt Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, F receiving, new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, fluff, angst, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Matt : Blue

Y/N : Pink

Chris : Orange

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900)

——————————————————

Y/N POV:

It had been a whole week, 7 days, 168 hours since Matt has been busy with work and ignoring me. Every time i confronted him Matt would always tell me that everything was well and that he was just tired and wanted to go to sleep. I became so enraged with him that I even questioned Chris and Nick, his own fucking brothers, why he was acting so "busy." All they said was that work has been difficult, Matt will get the entire day off on Friday, which is tomorrow. I had no idea that information even existed.

-

After taking off their shoes and entering the kitchen to meet me, Matt, Nick, and Chris came via the front door. I ignored Matt and waved to Chris and Nick, striking up a conversation with them. I truly couldn't talk to Matt, even though I hated ignoring him.

"Y/N, why are you ignoring me? What's wrong?" exclaimed Matt. I could feel the rage building inside of me; I was on the verge of losing it. “Why do I ignore you? WHY DO YOU DISRESPECT ME? Matt, I haven't spent more than ten minutes with you in the entire week.” Matt attempted to engage, but I interrupted him. “You don't even understand that I've asked your brothers why. I'm sorry, but you don't even realize how much I'm desperate for you. Why do you no longer give a damn? I didn't start dating this person at all. What happened Matt.” i spoke with tears now falling from my eyes. Chris spoke up, "Me and Nick are going to go for a walk, we will be back later.” “ Yeah” as they continued to move toward the front for.

“ Baby “ he knew i loved when he called me baby. “ I never want to see you cry over me. You are aware of my work schedule, but I should do a better job of juggling it with my personal life. Im sorry for being so busy; I really am. I simply got really wrapped up in my own thoughts, and I know it's not an excuse, so I had no idea that it upset you this much. I apologize. Let me make it up to you.”

-

He grabbed me the waist and patted me by the thighs to jump and wrap my legs around his waist. As i did what i was told he walked us to his room closing the door and ensuring he locked it. He laid me on my bed on top of his silk covers, as i laid on my back he slowly took off my deinem shorts and black Lacey thong, he took of my ( his ) hoodie leaving me fully naked.

He pulled me closer to the edge of the bed as he kneeled on floor face to face with my glistening wet pussy waiting to get touched. He kissed my clit, then slowly started licking a strip up and down my pussy. “ Gonna make you feel so good princess, just lay there and look pretty.” the dirty talk could’ve just made cum there on the spot.

Soon as Matt’s tongue touched you an unsteady breath flew from your lips, your eyes squeezed closed due to the amount of pleasure you felt. He licked from your leaking hole to your clit once again,tongue flat to taste as much of you as possible. he repeated his actions multiple times, Matt moaned at the taste of you, he was pussy drunk at this point. “ You enjoying it so far?” i breathed heavy and moaned “ yes i am baby, feels so good” i’m so close to finishing at this point, he always worked magic with his tongue.

My hips were bucking of the bed bringing my lips closer to his. He started using his tongue and fingers adding the insane amount of pleasure i was already feeling. I tugged on my bed sheets and when i did that he took his fingers out of me and used his hands to guide my hands to his hair. I quickly grabbed his hair and gently tugged.

He started going insanely fast which made me lose it, he instructed me to grab my boobs and play with them, who was i to deny it. “ fuck Matt i’m so close, can i cum, please” he nodded his head against me. The knot in my stomach snapped and i finished all of his fingers and face.

Matt slowly pulled his fingers out of me and sucked them clean. “ are you ok? you did so good sweetheart” i nodded my head in response to tired to move or speak. Matt walked to get a hand towel to clean his face and me. Not too long after we had a shower and changed clothes to walk downstairs to end the night with a movie.

-

As we sat on the couch Chris and Matt walked in asking if we were ok i responded back with “ more than ok “ Matt giggled at me words and brought his attention back to the movie.

[buddiebeginz]

I was talking to a friend earlier and it got me thinking about something.

B*mmy stans project all of the stuff they do onto us to an extent I've never seen with any other fandom discourse before.

They call us homophobic for not liking B/T or T*mmy. Yet they hate on people for shipping Buddie or seeing Eddie as queer. To the point of harassing people for including Eddie and Buddie in pride posts. Continually harassing the 911news account and even trying to dox a journalist for posting about Buddie.

They call us delusional for having watched two men love and support one another for 6 going on 7 years and for thinking there could be something more than friendship there. Even though Oliver, Ryan, and Tim have all said they see what we see. Yet they've seen Buck kiss a guy twice, have very minimal screen time or development and they headcanon that they're in love and will get married in the coming season.

They say we fetishize Buddie. Yet most of the time when our fandom is discussing our ship we're talking about the emotional connection between them. Or how we want to see them finally be together in a canon romantic relationship or as a full fledged family (with Chris). Or have their first kiss. Meanwhile most of their posts are the kind of sex they headcanon Buck and T*mmy have. Hell after that that dinner scene tons of them changed their urls to something with daddy in it (referencing the out of place daddy kink joke). To be clear there's nothing wrong with headcanons about fictional characters sex lives. But the main reason most of us ship Buddie is not just because they're two hot guys who we want to think about f*cking, it's because we're invested in the story of their life together. The same can't be said for B/T.

They say we feminize Buck for Buddie:

Meanwhile most of their fics/art/headcanons involve T*mmy being the big strong protector rescuing the "damsel in distress" Buck. They constantly talk about how hot it is that T*mmy is this big older "daddy" firefighter who can take care of Buck and guide him in what it means to be in a m|m relationship.

They say we've made Buck's coming out all about Buddie but 1. Eddie and Buck's feelings for him were heavily included in Buck's bi awakening ep. 2. They have made T*mmy synonymous with buck's coming out to the point of saying Buck wouldn't have even realized he liked men without T*mmy. They've even said that if T*mmy and Buck were to break up in s8 that it would ruin Buck's coming out story.

They accuse our fandom of being mean and of harassing the actors including of sending death threats to Lou. Of chasing Lou off of social media and being the one who caused him to stop his cameos. They say we're the reason Oliver chooses not interact with Lou or anything B/T related online. When there has been no proof of any of this. Meanwhile there is proof from their own fandom that Oliver and Ryan have blocked some of them. They have repeatedly tried to pressure Oliver to interact with B/T posts and Lou. They were also leaving comments on the the video of the podcast Ryan did (with Tommy DiDario) where he talked about his s*icide attempt, telling him he should have finished the job.

They call us a cult or BoBs (Buddie or Bust) yet they dress up like Lou and would still be paying for his videos if he was still willing to put them out. They prioritize Lou/T*mmy above any other character on the show. They talk about how T*mmy should get a begins episode. How T*mmy should be a main character. They defend everything T*mmy has ever done including when he was racist and homophobic to Chim and Hen. They harass anyone who has a negative word to say about their ship or Lou or T*mmy much like a cult would protect their leader. They to this day act like everything Lou ever told them in his cameos is the gospel truth.

911 fandom has grown increasingly toxic ever since B/T became a thing and I honestly just can't wait for the day we either find out T*mmy isn't coming back or when his last ep will be. I mean in some ways our fandom won't ever be the same after this. I've seen a lot of ugly sides to people who I had followed for years as Buddie shippers.

It will never not confuse the hell out of me that some people who were big time Buddie shippers for years not only dropped Buddie but turned completely against the ship and our fandom. And all for a ship that is seriously underdeveloped and one that it's clear the show is telling us in flashing neon lights isn't meant to last.

[sturnboos]

we can never be friends

FRATBOY!MATT x READER

WARNINGS : smut (oral F receiving), fingering, swearing.

based on the song why are you here by machine gun Kelly “I hate that I saw you again last night, you were with somebody and so was I. I met you in the bathroom at 12:05 and I fucked you again we can never be friends”

A/N: My first smut and not proof read. don’t like don’t read

your 'friend' August rolls his eyes. “Chris is the host again? I feel like we should find a new frat party spot.”

you frown. “What’s wrong with Chris?”

August raises an eyebrow. “his brother? Matt..”

“our breakup was months ago, and that’s not chris’s fault” you disagree pulling August along.

you walk through crowds of sweaty people and almost slip on a pile of beer that's been spilt on the floor by some drunk lunatic.

normally, you hate frat parties but Chris’s parties were an exception. you head towards the dance floor but before you could do anything august dismissed himself already wanting to grab a drink. So you danced alone but just as the bass drops you feel a person behind you. assuming august had returned you start dancing on the guy, grinding your hips down onto his as the music intensifies. You spin around and throw your arms around the neck of… your ex boyfriend Matthew Sturniolo?

you look up at him shocked. "Hey sweetheart…” he reached out to grab your arm “Let's get out of here" he says with lust filled eyes and pulls you along to the bathroom.

one of his hands trailing up your body while the other held your jaw. You leaned in to kiss Matt deeply, Matt broke the kiss to drag his lips across your jaw, down your neck, lower and lower on your body until he could flick his tongue over a nipple.

You moaned at the sudden feeling, your head falling back against the door with a thud while one of yours hands came to Matt’s hair. Matt smirked against your skin, continuing to flick and suck on your nipples until they were fully erect. Matt chuckled as your back arched, your breasts pressing into his face needily.

Deciding that was enough teasing, Matt sunk down on his knees and lifted your tight black dress above your hips, getting rid of your underwear in one swift move.

Matt smirked up at you then his mouth latched onto your clit, causing you to clamp your free hand over your mouth.

Matt’s name left your lips in a broken whimper, the sound prompting Matt to continue. your thighs were shaking with the effort of keeping yourself up as Matt moaned around your clit, sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth then flattening his tongue against it, moving his head from side to side for more friction. eating you out as if it was his last meal.

“I-I’m gonna-.” You warned, panting. “Matt. Fuck, i’m gonna cum,”

With that, Matt pushed a finger inside and you tossed your head back again with a moan, fisting a hand in Matt’s hair and tugging harshly. Matt didn’t care about the pressure on his scalp he was making you feel good and that’s all that mattered to him. Matt was extremely skilled with his tongue and you were letting him know just how good of a job he was doing, your moans filling the room as Matt twisted and rolled his tongue just the right way around your clit before sucking again, making you cry out. You were so close.

But right as she you were about to let go, someone began to bang on the door loudly. you immediately panicked, bringing your hand to your mouth to stifle your moans and instinctively glancing over to the door to double check it was locked. Matt on the other hand just kept eating you out without a break and pumped his fingers faster. Matt knew the door had been carefully locked beforehand, so he had no reason to stop.

You look down at Matt when the pace he set was urgent and desperate he knew his knees would be bruised and his jaw would feel sore by the time he was finished with you, but right now, all he could focus on was you. At this point you could no longer hold back your moans and that’s how matt knew he was only seconds away from breaking you.

"Cum for me.” He mumbled and just like that you cried out, squirting over his fingers multiple times as he stimulated your g-spot just perfectly and constantly. He then pulls his fingers out of your sensitive clit. you both sat on the bathroom tile breathing heavily, then when both your breathings were back to normal Matt asked “Are you okay?” rubbing your cheekbone sweetly after helping you with your dress and fixing your hair.

You nodded, smiling shyly. “Let me return the favor.”

“No, no.” Matt cupped your cheeks, stopping you before you could get on her knees. “Let’s get back to the party. And if you really want to return the favor, come home with me tonight. Okay?”

Needless to say you went home with Matt that night, without the slightest hint of hesitation. Matt looks you up and down smirking at you “knew you couldn’t resist me” 

“Of course Matt, after all, we can never be friends.” 

[sturniozo]

Tutor part four

NOT PROOFREAD

masterlist

It’s been four weeks since my success with tutoring Chris. Now, each time he comes over, we study for ninety minutes, and then hang around and do whatever Chris decides. It keeps him focused on his work while he has it in front of him.

And it’s getting easier to hang around Chris. He still gives me butterflies but I’m not so nervous around him. It’s easier to just talk to him. My hands no longer get sweaty and my heart doesn’t race so hard.

“Okay, study is officially over.” Chris says. He’s never been punctual about anything, except for the end of our allotted study time. The second the clock hits 5:30 his notes are in the bag and he’s leaned back in his chair deciding what we should do.

“What to do with the pretty y/n today.” Chris muses to himself. “Only got thirty minutes…” Chris smiles and bites his lip while looking at me. Before I could say anything, he begins laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just thinking about stuff.”

“About what?”

“How come we never hang out outside of these tutoring lessons?” Chris asks.

“Well after school mostly you have hockey practice and I have a part time job at the restaurant down the street from here.” I answer.

“You work there two nights a week. And one of those nights is the same night as hockey practice.”

“How do you know when I work, are you stalking me or something?”

“What about weekends?” Chris says, evading my sarcastic question. “You don’t work weekends, no hockey practice for me on weekends.”

“Why are you so adamant on hanging out? We’re hanging out right now.”

“A half hour is not enough. You should come to my game.”

“Your game?” I ask.

“Yeah, my hockey game. You should come.”

I look at Chris confused. “I.. why?”

Chris just shrugs. “We don’t hang out enough.” There’s a pause before Chris sighs. “Nick will be there. If that makes any difference.”

“What?”

“Well you never argue with him over hanging out. It’s always a flat out yes with Nick.”

“Nick is my best friend.”

“What, and I can’t be?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Chris stares at me with a blank face. I can’t tell what he wants me to say.

“I’ll go.”

-

Sitting with Nick watching the hockey game was not how I usually spend my Friday nights. I also don’t expect it to be so cold at the hockey game. I guess I should have thought of that though, seeing as they’re on ice.

So here I am. Sitting right in the front, wearing none other than Chris’s hoodie since I was stupid and didn’t bring my own. It’s nice to be in his hoodie though. It’s so warm and it smells just like him.

“Dude you’re freaking me out.” Nick says as he stares at me with concern.

The view he had of me that was so concerning to him was just me closing my eyes and embracing the smell of Chris’s hoodie.

“Chris fucking stinks I don’t understand how you can breathe that in.” Nick says.

“His hoodie doesn’t stink.” I sit up straight.

“I can smell it from here.” Nick turns his head and pretends to gag.

I just roll my eyes and sit back on the bleachers to watch the game. I’ve never been to one of Chris’s hockey games before. I don’t even understand hockey, or any sport for that matter. What even are the rules?

While deep in my thoughts, Chris skates towards the glass and waves at me while smiling. I blush and wave back, covering my face with the sleeve of his hoodie so he doesn’t see my blush. Chris just laughs and then continues on with the game.

“Yeah, that was subtle.” Nick says sarcastically.

I turn to him. “What?”

Nick then pretends to twirl his hair and blink his eyes dramatically while waving. “That’s what you look like.”

“I wasn’t twirling my hair.”

“You might as well have been.”

I just scoff and turn back to the game.

After the game ends, I wait with Nick outside for Matt and Chris to finish up in the locker room.

It’s not too cold out, but cold enough that someone wearing a skirt with no leggings underneath, like me, would catch a chill standing outside for a period of time.

“How long is this going to take?” I mumble rub my arms for warmth.

“Relax. They’ll be out in a minute.” Nick says as he scrolls through his phone.

“Easy for you to say. Your legs aren’t exposed to the harsh tundra.”

“Harsh tundra? Y/n it’s 50 degrees.”

“So cold.” I say dramatically. I place the back of my hand over my forehead and pretend to swoon, slipping and land right into someone.

“Jesus, y/n. What’s wrong?” Chris says. My heart stops. I did not just fall into Chris. Tell me I did not just fall into Chris.

“Nothing, she’s being dramatic.” Nick says and stands up straight. But I’m paralyzed. I stay still with Chris’s hands holding me up and my eyes like deer in headlights.

“Y/n?” Chris asks.

“I’m fine.” I manage to say. I finally gain the ability to stand on my own and I walk by Nick. “Let’s get going, I’m cold.”

“You wouldn’t be so cold if you weren’t wearing that little skirt. It was driving me crazy the whole game.” Chris laughs and puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk to the van.

My face heats up with blush and the butterflies come back to my stomach. Chris must have noticed because he then says “hey, hey I was joking. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just cold.”

“Well we’ll get you in the van and take you home and then you won’t be so cold, alright?” Chris smiles at me reassuringly.

“Alright.”

Tag list : @freshloveforthefit @sturniolo14

[mintsturniolo]

CAN YOU PLEASE POST BROKEN ARM

BTW YOUR WRITING IS SO CUTE🩷🩷

bf!chris sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: sorry it took so long. anyways here you go love. and thanks so much 🩵

summary: isla and chris are home alone and she falls down the stairs thus breaking her arm

It was a well known fact that Isla was incredibly clumsy. Between her and Chris, one of them was always tripping, or dropping things. They were currently home alone. Chris was in his room gaming, while Isla was finishing up laundry for the household. While this was usually Matt’s job, Nick and Matt had plans and the laundry had been piling up since they got back from Boston. Isla finished folding Matt’s clothes first and set the laundry basket in his room. She made her way downstairs with Chris’s laundry and smiled when she saw how focused he was on his game. She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Movie night tonight?” she asked eagerly. “I’ll make you whatever you want.”

Chris nodded as he lowered his headset. “I would love that,” he replied hugging her back.

Isla watched him play his game for a few more minutes before making her way upstairs. She finished up Nick’s laundry and made her way up to his room. Of course his room was on the top floor. She set the basket on the dresser and began heading downstairs. She wasn’t sure how, but as she got close to the bottom, she missed a step. As she positioned herself to break her fall, she felt her arm crack as she landed at an awkward angle. She gave a sharp gasp as pain seemed to shoot through her whole body. “Oh fuck,” she cried out, cradling her injured arm.

Chris removed his headset when he heard something crash upstairs. He jumped out of his chair when he heard Isla cry out. Chris hurried up the stairs and gasped when he got around the corner and saw Isla laying on the floor holding her clearly injured arm against her chest. “Holy shit. Isla, what happened?” he gasped as he knelt beside her.

The only response were her pained sobs as he pulled her into his arms, helping her sit up a little. “Shhh. Breathe my love,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I just took Nick’s laundry upstairs and when I was coming down I missed a step. I don’t know. I’m in so much pain and I feel so stupid. I should’ve been paying attention,” Isla sobbed before Chris shushed her.

Chris gently wiped the tears off her face. “Does anything else hurt? Your back? Your head? Can you move your fingers or toes?”

Isla nodded, still crying and showed Chris that she was able to move. “It’s just my arm. Chris it hurts so bad,” she sobbed.

“Yeah, I think it’s broken. We need to go to the hospital,” Chris replied.

Isla nodded in agreement as Chris helped her to her feet and led her to the car. It didn’t take long to make it to the emergency room, but it was so crowded that that it was a struggle to find a seat.

time skip

After what felt like forever at the emergency room, Isla was finally able to go. Chris had his arm wrapped around her as they walked into the house. “Let’s get you to bed. I know you’re tired.”

Isla agreed and Chris gently helped her into the house. “I need my water first,” Isla said sleepily. “I’m kind of thirsty.”

As they made their way into the kitchen, they found Nick and Matt on the couch watching a show. “Isla what happened?” Matt gasped, getting Nick’s attention.

“Oh no! How did you break your arm?” Nick gasped.

“I fell down the stairs when I was coming out of your room,” Isla muttered as she took a seat on the couch beside Matt.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Nick said.

Isla nodded sleepily as she closed her eyes. “M’tired guys.”

Matt moved to the other side of Nick so that Isla could lay down. Chris helped her find a comfortable position since the cast was stressing her out and smiled as she started to fall asleep. “I was going to go out and get some Chinese food for dinner,” he told his brothers as he put a blanket over Isla.

“I’ll pick it up in a little while. Just stay with her,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

time skip

“I’m so tired Chris,” Isla muttered as they finished eating. “Everything hurts.”

Chris nodded and helped her off the couch. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

After telling Nick and Matt goodnight, Isla and Chris made their way downstairs. Now it was time for the real challenge that she’d been dreading all day. Isla went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, determined to do everything herself. It didn’t take long for her to give up and call for Chris. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Please just come in here,” Isla begged, sounding defeated.

Chris went into the bathroom to see tears in his girlfriend’s eyes. He quickly went to her and pulled her into a hug. “What’s wrong my love?”

“I’ve had to go to the bathroom since we got home and I can’t unfasten my jeans and my arm hurts and…” Isla choked out between sobs.

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’ll help you,” Chris said gently. “Deep breaths. You’ll get used to everything soon enough. Til then. Just call me okay.”

Isla nodded as she wiped her tears away. Chris reached down and unfastened the button that had been such a challenge for his girlfriend. “I’m going to get you some sweats and a hoodie,” he said and stepped out the door. “Call me when you’re ready.”

After helping Isla shower, the couple was finally ready to settle into bed. Chris went over to his desk and found a marker. “I know this is super corny but I’ll do it in small handwriting,” he laughed earning a smile from Isla who nodded.

“Don’t write or draw anything stupid Christopher,” she laughed.

Chris stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “I would never.”

Isla rolled her eyes as Chris kissed her gently on the lips. “You better not,” she replied, returning the kiss.

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @sturnioloveniamh

[ariestrxsh]

sub!pizzaboy!chris nsfw alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare isn't a requirement, but Chris loves having his back rubbed, his hair played with, and a little cuddle session after sex. Bonus points if you shower him in compliments about how well he did.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chris has a big dick, and he knows it! It's definitely his favorite asset. On you, he loves your breasts and thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Chris loves cumming in your mouth more than anything. He especially loves it when you stick your tongue out while he finishes.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Chris loves having sex on the clock!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Chris is very experienced and good at what he does - a certified slut.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Chris loves when you ride him. He loves watching your breasts bounce, and he loves how easy it is for you to put your hands around his throat and kiss his neck while you're in this position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Chris takes his pleasure and your pleasure very seriously and is usually concentrated in the moment, but he loves the giggly and awkward moments, too.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Chris leaves his hair mostly natural but occasionally trims. On you, he prefers when you haven't shaven in a few weeks.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Chris is a total service sub during sex and gets turned on by being overpowered. He's always willing to offer himself up to be used by you for your own pleasure. Eye contact and dirty talk during sex are a must for him. He loves it when the two of you are completely present in the moment, giving each other your full and undivided attention.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Chris loves getting high and jerking off. He loves doing it in risky settings where he knows he could get caught. The thrill alone gets him off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Chris has a raging praise kink, and he melts when you call him a "good boy." He's always down to be tied up, cuffed, choked, bitten, and anything that restricts his movement, his breathing, and causes him a little pain.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Chris' favorite kind of sex is risky sex, whether it's in a car, on the job, at work, etc.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Chris is motivated by praise, money, and neck kisses. He also loves seeing your face and hearing you moan while he's making you feel good.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Chris would never dom you. Not only does he think he would be bad at it, but he's just not interested in being a dom, and he'd never make the first move.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Chris is incredible at giving head, and he does it enthusiastically. He loves getting head just as much as he loves giving it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Chris likes whatever you like, and he likes it when you're in charge and set the pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Chris loves a quickie. He can get it up in seconds and can finish in just a few minutes as long as you finish first.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Chris loves an adrenaline rush. He's always down to experiment and try new things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Chris can go for several rounds, and he'll last until you grant him permission to cum.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Chris doesn't own any toys, but he loves it when you get out your bullet vibrator and tease his tip with it while you talk dirty to him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chris loves to tease, and he loves being teased (despite how hard he begs).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Depending on the sex, he might softly whimper in your ear, or he might call out your name and moan loudly. Either way, he loves being vocal during sex.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chris' weakness is dominant, flirty, confident women who are usually a little older than he is or are in positions of power. Bonus points if they're in touch with their maternal side.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Chris is big, and despite how humble he tries to be about it, he knows it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Chris has a really high sex drive. Sometimes finishing just once isn't enough.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Chris falls asleep pretty quickly after sex, but he usually needs a joint after sex and before asleep as well.