#bfb chris

bfb!chris gets hard in the middle of the night, letting bbf!reader sleep while still using her help

smut, male masterbation, somnophilia, spit

it was that time of night when everything was still.

the sound of crickets echoing throughout the night, the soft chill coming in from the open window matt accidentally left open in the kitchen. you hadn't meant to sleep over—okay, correction, you hadn't meant to sleep over in chris’ bed. you were originally on the couch, but after he grabbed you when nick and matt went to sleep, you just couldn't bring yourself to drag yourself back.

not after he left you sore and tingling, feeling like you couldn't make it up the stairs by yourself.

chris wasn't too keen on you sleeping in his bed, but after leaving you fucked out and exhausted, it wasn't like he had much of a choice. unless he wanted his brothers to see your ratted hair and the sudden hickies on your neck. so, while you got comfortable in his sheets, he quickly moved upstairs to clear the couch of your things—making it seem like you left without telling them so they wouldn't question where you were.

was it wrong to still be sneaking around? maybe. but chris didn't want to deal with the ‘oh, don't hurt her’ or the ‘oh, you're horrible for using her like that’ lectures from his brothers that he knew he'd get. he knew what he wanted and what he liked, and right now, he wanted you, liked having you at his mercy just as much as you liked the way he made you fall apart. he thought about the way you shook around him as he fluffed the pillows back into their original place, the way you milked him dry before he had nothing else to give.

the thought stayed with him even as he ventured back to his room with your things, seeing a lumpy figure under his covers. you were already out—eyes closed peacefully, legs parted with one resting high and your hands clasped together under your cheek. he hesitated at the door, unsure if he should wake you or not. thinking about the way you came had gotten him semi-hard again, but he did just wreck your shit. . .

after a few more minutes of going back and forth with himself, for once in his career, christopher sturniolo made the decision to just shut the door. turn off the lights. and get in bed besides you.

he didn't cuddle you or anything, god no. cuddling led to feelings, and feelings led to labels, and labels meant he couldn't be a free man or that he'd be subjected to your eventual realization that you deserved so much better than him. no way, josè. but he could pull the covers up and close his eyes, feeling the heat of your body radiate to his side as he drifted off.

sleep didn't last long.

not when he had gone down already half horned up and only ended up dreaming of your body wrapped around his—the way your tits would bounce wildly whenever he had you on your back, or the way your ass clapped against his pelvis when you were bent over. the way you'd cream all over the base of his cock before he turned your pussy into a glazed donut, spreading his cum around until you were a soppy mess.

chris’ eyes fluttered open, an almost pained groan leaving him as soon as he was conscious again. his breathing was heavy and there was a thin sheet of sweat over his forehead—but none of that mattered when his dick, trapped in his basketball shorts, was painfully hard. he could feel it throbbing faintly and the way it pitched under the blanket, even when covered up, was almost embarrassing.

he looked over at your sleeping form, noticing you were turned to him now, eyes closed with your mouth slightly ajar. your lips had formed a pout, drool tricking out from the corner of your mouth onto his pillow. normally, he'd be upset at you for ruining his satin pillowcases, but he was so fucking horny that even being slightly annoyed didn't cross his mind.

diverting his attention back to his aching problem, his hands under the covers shimmed his shorts down just enough, moving carefully as to not jostle you awake. the moment his dick was free of the containment, his hand wrapped around the base, his eyes closing tightly at the pressure.

fuck. . . he thought to himself as his thumb moved to his tip, teasing himself by releasing some pressure and moving like a feather on his skin, to the slit to collect the little drops of precum already formed.

there had been enough for chris to enjoy a few lathered strokes, but not enough to make himself cum yet—enough to get him excited about the idea. he'd have to just spit in his hand if he wanted to keep touching himself before he dried up and gave himself a burn. he looked back at your face to make sure you were still asleep, but the second he caught the sight of your drool again, a thought entered his head. a smirk slowly took shape on his lips as he removed his hand from cock, carefully moving it out from the blanket over to your mouth.

the drool collected on his fingers easy enough, his hand at an awkward position to collect all of it, but it was worth it. when he thought there was enough on his hand to satisfy him, he gave your cheek a light pat with his free hand, grazing his thumb against the smoothness of your skin for a second after before pulling away. you flinched a bit at the contact and your eyes fluttered like they might open, but they didn't.

“fuckin’ good girl,” he muttered low enough that even he could barely hear himself, his drool-covered hand moving back under the sheets, stroking himself once more. he didn't even say those words to you when he had you folded like a pretzel before, but even asleep, you were able to make sure he came. it felt deserved.

his hand continued its onslaught on his cock, yet his eyes never left your face. it was easy to fall back into the fantasy in his dreams with his eyes locked on your mouth and your slightly exposed neck, knowing you were naked under the blanket making him bite his lip to stifle his light moans. he ducked his head down just a bit, his free hand lifting the covers up the slightest to get a view of your breasts. his cock twitched at the sight of them and he resisted the urge to reach out and grab, but that didn't mean he couldn't look.

you didn't get changed after the quick in what universe fuck you guys had, and he'd never been more grateful for your dumbass before. to chris, you normally didn't have any good ideas, but this was one he was going to reward you with when you woke up—and then he was trembling. just the thought of eating you out first thing in the morning, just because you'd been able to help him cum even if you didn't necessarily do anything, was enough to make him hold in his grunt, hand pausing at the base of himself as ropes of white began to pulse out. he gave three last lazy strokes, squeezing out what he could, some of it getting smeared on the blanket and most of it ending up all over his hand.

chris’ head sagged against his pillow with relief, his eyes closing with relaxation. he didn't move his hand until a few minutes later, eyeing a shirt on the floor next to the bed and reaching for it without hesitation. when he picked it up, he realized it was yours, but did he actually care about ruining your clothes to leave in? not really. after wiping himself up and making sure nothing else was going to get on his sheets, he lifted his shorts back up and turned to his side, now facing you.

you slept on, not having the slightest inkling as to what just happened. he could've woken you up, had you help him relieve the pressure yourself, but instead he chose to let you sleep. that in itself was a damn miracle and he really should've made you blow him in the morning for making the effort, but now he'd gotten it in his head about licking you up—making you tremble on his tongue while you rutted your hips pathetically against his face, like you always did.

he was close enough that if he just extended his hand, it'd land on your hips. he could bring you in if he wanted. and for a second, it was like his hand had a mind of its own. . .

until he moved it to give your nipple a light graze and forced himself to turn away from you, too spent to do anything else.

bfb!chris just wants you to be quiet so he could fill you up.

“. . . sashay, away. . .”

matt watched the end of the episode with nick as they sat on the couch in the living room. it was supposed to be you, nick and matt watching it all together, but for the last twenty minutes, you were cooped up in the bathroom. neither of them figured to check in, just thinking you were taking the worlds longest shit or something.

“that's bullshit,” matt shook his head as he watched the drag queen walk down the stage. “alyssa should've stayed, she was fuckin’ killin’ it compared to twirling tina.”

“coco montrese,” nick corrected him after breaking out into a fit of giggles. this was his favorite part of forcing matt to watch drag race with him, the way he'd occasionally get into it, chiming in here and there with a funny comment. “don't worry, alyssa comes back for global all stars and won. i'll show you that later when y/n gets back.”

matt rose an eyebrow skeptically, but he didn't protest when nick pressed the next episode of the season. he just needed to see this coco montrese finally go home, those blue contacts starting to become too much the more they watched. meanwhile, in the bathroom, you tried so hard to stay quiet, really. and truthfully, you did have to use the bathroom, but when chris texted you, you couldn't resist.

so, as the boys were watching the show, you were on the edge of the sink as chris slowly thrust into you, not wanting to take the risk of making you scream out. he usually loved the sounds you made, the way you'd beg for him like the slut he took you for, but this would have to do, too.

typically, he'd use his speed to make you remember who was really in control here. and let's be real, he really only did it because the way he'd slam into you and you'd beg for more made him feel powerful. but since he couldn't do that, he settled for wrapping his hand around your throat—the sensation only further overwhelming you, but you weren't complaining.

“stop fuckin’ whimpering,” he muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes were locked on where the two of you were connected, watching as his cock easily slipped in and out of your sopping hole. you were wet, of course, but that wasn't the reason that had you dripping on the bathroom floor.

“ca-can’t help it, feels good–” you were cut off when his hand gave a firm squeeze around your neck, causing yet another whimper leaving your lips. he was already on edge from cumming into you two times and he'd be damned if he didn't a fourth, but he couldn't do that when you didn't know how to shut your mouth. “just shut the fuck up. fuckin' actin' like m'drillin' into ya, it's fuckin' pathetic.”

his speed was so slow, so tantalizing, but so fucking worth it.

you wanted to apologize and tell him that you'll try your best because at the end of the day, you didn't want him to stop having sex with you. the sex had become a vital part of your routine—something that felt too good to pass up. except you knew talking and only making more sounds would piss him off even more, so as a way to quiet yourself, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his shoulder, sinking your teeth in.

it must've felt good because not five seconds later, he was pulling out of your pussy to cum again, biting down on his lip to stop his groan from echoing through the bathroom walls as he watched his load gather around your most intimate area. just like the last two times. it was one of his favorite looks on you—his cum coating your folds, dripping into your pussy and down your thighs as you clenched around nothing.

“just–” chris mumbled before sliding his dick back into you, a sigh escaping him as you immediately started clamping down on him, your walls so slick now. he could get lost in you, if you weren't a constant headache whenever he wasn’t pumping into you. “–fuck—just stay fuckin’ quiet. keep doin’ that— good girl.”

it was rare for him to praise you, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. it was exactly the kind of shit that made your inner walls squeeze around him, milking him for more.

A/N . . . like i'm not gonna say i have a breeding kink specifically, but the signs are there. . . also really debating if i make them into an actual au now idk feel like the setup is there. . .

despite bfb!chris and bbf!reader hating each other, he can't help himself from filling her up.

the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room, along with the disgusting squelches that came from both natural juices and semen as chris’ cock repeatedly dragged in and out of your pussy. it wasn't as tight as he'd like it to be, your walls fitting around him like it was molded after him, but what else can he expect after four rounds of fucking?

“f-f–s-shit, chris! fu-fuck, like t-that! please!” your muffled voice shouted from where your head was buried in his pillow, your hips and lower back starting to really feel the burn from how he worked you, feeling like you could collapse right there. but you loved this shit, how he used you like this. your hands reached behind you to ground yourself to something, anything.

he noticed your flailing arms and smirked to himself before moving his hands from your hips to grab them, yanking you back on his dick as he just thrusted even deeper in you, the sensation and change in angle making your noises vulgar and borderline pornographic. “yeah, this what y’needed?”

a series of “please”s and “yes”s fell from your lips, your mind only focused on how he was hitting your spot every damn time. how his tip perfectly kissed your cervix, how you could feel your arousal drip down your puffy folds and onto your inner thighs. you were confident you were already filled to the brim with his cum, but it just wasn't enough.

he kept a firm grip on your forearms as he felt his fourth orgasm of the night approach him. between you whimpering and crying for it like a slut, barely able to form any coherent words, the cream that circled the base of his shaft as his previous releases were sticking like glue on your thighs, and the way your ass recoiled against his hips like it was nobody's business. . . he didn't stop himself from filling you up once more. who could blame him?

the only thing he loved more than fighting with you was fucking you full of himself.

A/N ummm... listen i was horny and in the mood to write i don't wanna hear it. may or may not revisit these two, idk