boyf!chris fic where: reader reluctantly goes to a party with Chris, where she has a panic attack, and Chris is there to comfort her. 1st time writing a fic kinda nervous
(established relationship, slight angst if you squint, fluff, smut, fem reader)
You shuffle around your bed, pulling the thick polka dot comforter over your head, shielding yourself from the morning rays peeking through the blinds. as your eyes adjust to the light you turn to your left and see the culprit of your awakening. Your phone rings repeatedly, you see the caller. Chris.
You and Chris had been through a rough patch this week, you still loved each other of course, but his busy schedule left little room for bonding and communication, and you feeling neglected. You optimistically assumed that Chris was calling to say he was sorry for last nights argument. You pick up the phone and click on the missed call. On the other side a wide awake, bubbly Chris answers the phone. You aren’t sure if you should speak or wait for him to lead the conversation, but the awkward silence only lasts for a moment before Chris starts to speak. “Hi baby how are ya doing?” “Lemme just say I’m sorry for last night, before you bring it up, but it’s a new day ya know.”
You give a slight affirmative hum and wait for him to tell you his reason for calling. “I’m just calling to see if you wanted to come over, chill and talk and maybe come to a party with me tonight.” You let the proposition linger before asking whose party it is. “just some old friends, nobody you know but still it’ll be fun” in your head you immediately dismiss the idea of going to some random persons party, worried that you’ll feel awkward or unwanted and that the night could end in an embarrassing moment, or worse.
You agree to come over and hang out, but give no promises to the party.
The door clicks open and you see Chris’s warm, welcoming face. He wraps his familiar arms around you, peppering kisses on your head and face.
Hours pass of you and Chris enjoying each other’s company, laughing the day away together. You both look at the clock. Chris stands up from the couch and announces that you should both start getting ready for the party, which starts at 8:00. You say nothing.
You swallow before saying calmly “oh I’m not going to the party” Chris looks down at you, a look of confusion and a tinge of annoyance on his face. You explain your fears, that you’ll get anxious, that that they’ll see you as an outsider, that you’ll embarrass yourself. Chris rubs his temples, pacing back and forth. “you never go to parties with me, you never go to group dinners with me, you never go on trips with me, and then you complain that I don’t spend enough time with you.” You furrow your eyebrows, a look of sadness washing over your face. You take a breath before replying “I do want to spend time with you, I’m just not comfortable around people I don’t know, and especially in social situations like that. You know that Chris.” “fine, fine whatever just go home then I don’t care and I’m not fighting over this” he retorts. You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach and stand up, swallowing before you speak, quietly, “wait Chris, I’ll go. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make it a big deal and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Chris looks at you with a look of pleasant surprise. “Alright that’s what I’m talking about, I knew you wanted to go.” Go get ready and we’ll leave in a few.”
You step out of the bathroom, giving yourself a quick once over in the mirror before you leave, you evaluate your appearance in your head, worrying that your outfit: Birkenstocks, a white skirt, and a pink floral tube top, is too much or too little for the occasion? However your nerves are soothed when Chris steps out of his bedroom, dressed in casual black cargo shorts, and a blue polo shirt, that enhances his figure, making his biceps look especially attractive. Chris puts his right hand into yours, keys in his left, as you walk towards the car, where Matt and Nick are waiting in the backseat.
The four of you arrive at the party, a sense of unnerve already bubbling in your stomach. you look around the room of unfamiliar faces, your hearing dials in on conversations: boring, surface level, typical L.A small talk. Chris eventually is whisked away by a group of friends to do karaoke. You decide not to cling onto him so that you don’t look obsessive or out of place. You attempt to make your way to the kitchen for a drink, not knowing if alcohol would soothe or worsen your nerves. You glance at a clock, 9:01. “yo watch out” you look forward to see a girl, who you just bumped into, clearly intoxicated, with a clear look of judgment on her face. You apologize immediately, scurrying off down the hallway. You trip, quickly catching yourself, avoiding a face plant on the hardwood. You suddenly feel self conscious, turning around to see a group of girls, laughing at a joke that was made seconds prior. But all that ran through your mind was that they were judging you, you felt humiliated, tears fill your eyes, your heartbeat quickens and you make a beeline for the nearest bathroom.You struggle to breathe taking shallow, fast paced breaths, trying desperately to ground yourself. You sink to the floor and into a curled position while your pulse races. You try your best to muffle your cries, locking the door before you start to feel sick.
Unbeknownst to you, Chris wanders the house, finally finished with karaoke, looking for you. He asks if anyone’s seen you, only to be met with a string of “who?”s. He rolls his eyes and walks towards the bathroom. He hears muffled cries behind the door, but decides not to speak to avoid bringing attention. He texts you. “assuming it’s u in the bathroom. Can u let me in?” You read the text, rising from the floor to unlock the door, quickly letting Chris in, while not letting people outside the door see your tear stained face and bloodshot eyes. Chris doesn’t speak at first ,instantly wrapping his arms around you. “I know, I know baby” “I’m so fucking sorry”. You choke out the words “I’m sorry Chris” before gasping for air again. Chris says nothing, and instead puts his sunglasses on your face, and his hat on your head, before helping you to your feet, wrapping his arm around your waist, and heading out the back door. Chris helps you into the passenger seat of his car, giving you a moment to gather yourself and breathe before shooting his brothers a text. “me and y/n dipped, uber home when u want, I’ll pay u back”
The front door closed with a click as Chris led you to the couch, giving you space to breathe. Your tears stop, before Chris asks you what happened. Through shaky breaths you tell him that everything was overwhelming you, you felt out of place and afraid, and you had a panic attack. Chris doesn’t speak at first, simply brings you into his arms, then whispers in your ear: “I’m so fucking sorry y/n, I should’ve never gotten mad at you for not wanting to go. I fucked up so bad and I should’ve listened to you” you reply, “it’s ok Chris it’s not your fault. Sorry for ruining your night.” “Don’t ever say sorry for this” He hugs you tighter, before speaking softly. “I don’t ever want you to feel judged or out of place around me ok?” He rubs small circles on your thigh, kissing you gently until you calm down.
An hour passes, and while Nick and Matt are still at the party, you and Chris watch movies and revel in feeling closer and more comfortable with each other than ever. Chris gently rubs your arms and legs, slowly trailing his hand farther up your leg. You feel your core pulse with a need for him, yearning for his long slender fingers inside you. “Chris..fuck” you whisper. “what baby..use your words” “fuck Chris I need you so bad.” Chris slips his hand beneath the waistband of your delicate sleep shorts, kissing you gently on your soft lips and cheek. He slowly creeps towards your clit, sensitive and needy. He runs a finger through your slit, gathering your wetness, before abruptly plunging two fingers inside. “You’re perfect just the way you are to me baby, and I’ll never judge you. You know that right?” You nod, stifling a moan and burying your face in his neck. He curls his fingers swiftly touching the spot that makes you let out a soft moan. Chris groans and increases his pace. You feel the coil in your stomach grow tighter, before snapping, releasing onto Chris’s hand. He brings his hand to your mouth, you quickly get the hint and lick your release from his fingers.
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