your presence — chris sturniolo
pairing: perv!chris x bsf!reader
includes: m!masturbation, chris getting caught, chris having sexual thoughts/fantasies, lowkey sub!chris, idk what else
it was never supposed to happen.
he was never supposed to feel this way about you. his best friend.
you’re hanging out with him, nick, and matt in their living room. the four of you are sitting on the couch, watching and commenting on the show love island. your sat next to nick, chris and matt on the other couch. chris keeps glancing over at you as if he needs to tell you something. but you don’t pay any mind to it, giving him a small smile before returning your attention to the show. nick and matt are engrossed in it, acting like they’re actually in the show and yelling at the screen.
chris’s eyes trail over you despite how hard he tries not to let them. first, his eyes trail over your eyes. watching how they move subtly. then your lips, noticing how plump and perfect they look. how much better they’d look wrapped around his—
then his eyes then go down to your cleavage. he didn’t mean to be weird. he didn’t want to. he didn’t even want to be thinking of you like this. but he just couldn’t help it. the way your tank top outlines your curves even sitting down, the way your hair falls over your shoulders, the way your boobs practically spill out of your black tank top…
he swallows thickly, shifting in his seat. he forces his gaze to go back to the tv screen as he adjusts himself somewhat discreetly. he forces himself not to look at you. but it’s like your engraved in his mind right now. his breathing gets heavier and shallower. he couldn’t be more grateful for the blanket covering his sweatpants.
matt looks over at chris, noticing his quietness. usually matt is quieter than chris. but not this time. “hey, y’alright?” he questions, looking chris up and down, taking note of his flushed and almost panicked state.
chris looks over at him, nodding a little too fast. “yeah, i’m just really hot.” he breathes out, shifting the blanket.
matt raises his eyebrows, not believing him but not caring enough to pry. “alright.” he mumbles, turning his attention back to the tv and giggling at nicks comments.
you glance over at chris, noticing his state too. his eyes meet yours, and he whimpers under his breath, swallowing thickly. he doesn’t even care how he looks right now—he needs to rub one out real quick.
he stands up abruptly, adjusting his grey sweatpants as he does so. you watch him, and immediately notice the huge bulge in his sweatpants. your face flushes as you look up and see his eyes staring at you. “i—i have to use the bathroom.” chris mumbles before practically jogging out of the room, running upstairs to his bedroom. not the bathroom like he said.
“the fuck is his deal?” matt says, looking at you and nick.
“kid probably has to shit real bad.” nick jokes, making you giggle. you turn back to watch the tv, but you can’t stop thinking about what you saw. how big his bulge was, how he was breathing so heavy, how his face looked so desperate and flushed…
chris goes in the bedroom, not even bothering to fully close the door. he lays on his bed, his back resting against the headboard of his bed. he lifts his hips slightly to take off his sweatpants and his boxers in one go. his hard dick slaps against his abdomen, and he hisses slightly at the feeling and the cold air hitting him.
he lays back against the bed before he slowly wraps his hand around the base of his dick. he starts slow—he strokes himself gently, going from the base of his dick and to his tip, occasionally rubbing his thumb along his slit. he moans at the feeling of finally being able to touch himself.
he squeezes his dick slightly, adding more pressure. “o—oh fuck-“ he stammers out. his hips buck instinctively, chasing the feeling.
he can’t help but imagine your lips wrapped around his dick. how you’d take it all, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly face-fucks you. how beautiful you’d look with his length down your throat, his balls slapping your chin with every rough thrust of his hips.
he gets to the tip of his dick, and runs the pad of his thumb over his slit. he shudders, his head tilting back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut.
“m’so close…oh my—fuck—“ he whines, his brows pinching together. his hips buck, practically fucking his fist now.
“where is chris? it’s been like.. five minutes.” nick comments as he looks over at you.
“i know right.” you comment, “i’m gonna check on him, actually.” you say before standing up. nick and matt just nod in response, not thinking about it too much.
but you knew what chris was doing.
you go upstairs, checking the bathroom only to see no one in there. you walk towards his room, to which you hear muffled whimpers and moans. you walk into his room, acting like you don’t know he’s jerking off. you’re not sure where the confidence came from yourself, as you really only saw chris as your best friend.
“hey, chris, matt and nick wanted me to check up on y—“ you begin, opening the door. you stop when you see him. the sight is even more beautiful than you could’ve imagined.
his face is so fucked out, hair messy, brows pinched together, jaw slack, panting and whimpering like a puppy.
his eyes open when he hears you, his hand never stopping its motions.
“get out—fuck—“ he begins to respond, but gets interrupted by a moan. he whines, his head tilts back against the headboard. you stand there almost dumbly. he tries to cover himself, he tries to come back to reality. he really did try to stop, but the knot in his stomach is so taut.
he’s about to take his hand off of his dick. to try to act somewhat casual. but as soon as his eyes focus on you—actually focuses—he cums right then and there uncontrollably.
he cries out, spasms taking over his body as spurts of cum cover his hand and abdomen. his hips buck as he tries to cover himself poorly. “f—fuck! get out—“ he struggles to say as his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly, the feeling overwhelming but not stopping as it rushes through his body.
you step back, watching his body practically go limp as his orgasm ends. your faced is flushed, your panties soaked. “chris i’m sorry—“ you begins to apologize, but he just shakes his head.
“it’s fine. just get out and don’t tell anyone.” he pants, finally bringing a blanket over his lower half. you simply nod, walking back downstairs.
he’s so fucking embarrassed.
credits to whoever made this au idk who made it!
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
andulkaphoto
janainaart
