#personalized fics

“Whew! Look at that fuckin’ home run!” Chris cheers proudly, up on his feet in front of the TV with his large arms crossed in front of his broad chest. His biceps are practically bulging out of the sleeves of his t-shirt, and if it wasn’t a Red Sox one, you would be even more turned on. “Yeah, they did need that, considering how badly they’re losing right now.” You challenge with a smirk, popping a few chips into your mouth. Chris scoffs, suddenly coming towards you and scooping you up with ease, slinging you over his shoulder and making you squeal. He always gets energetic and hyped up like this while watching games, it’s a miracle your smaller frame is still intact considering how much he likes to roughhouse. Not that you’re complaining- if anything, you find it kind of hot.

“Keep up that kinda talk and I’m gonna spank you all the way to next week,” he growls playfully, giving your ass a little smack as he holds you as though you’re a sack of potatoes. You laugh loudly, squirming in his grip. “What, you know I’m right! My boys are totally going to win this one.” He arches an eyebrow, tossing you back down onto the couch playfully. “Yeah? Then why don’t we keep things interesting with a little bet?” He leans over to pick up his beer from the coffee table, taking a swig before continuing, “If the Sox win, you gotta give me that hoodie back.” He nods towards the oversized piece of clothing you’re currently wearing and you pout playfully but nod in agreement (you know you’re just going to steal it back anyways). “Fine. And if I win, you buy me ice cream whenever I want it for the next month.” He blinks but laughs amused, extending his hand. “Alright, deal.” You shake it as firmly as you can, smiling confidently. “I know the Jays have totally got this. You’re going down, Evans.”

“Noooo!” you cry out dramatically, collapsing onto the ottoman in the center of the room upon witnessing the last inning of the game. “What happened? They were doing so well!”

“My boys happened, that’s what!” Chris yells proudly, pumping his fist in the air as he looks at the television with pride and delight as if he coaches the Red Sox himself. “Well, baby doll, come on now. The hoodie comes off, and back in my closet.” You pout and sit up again, running your fingers through your slightly tousled locks. “Fine. You want your hoodie back?” You suddenly stand up and lift the hoodie off your torso and up over your head, tossing it to him without warning. His blue eyes widen as he stares, subconsciously nibbling his lower lip. You casually walk right past him and off to the bedroom- wearing absolutely nothing but the leggings he loves so much, giving him a perfect view of your ass wiggling slightly as you strut with confidence. 

“Fuck, did you know this bet was happening or something?” The hoodie’s forgotten on the floor of the living room as he immediately follows after you, ogling your bare back. “Not even a bra, Jules? You’re killing me here.” You barely smirk, nonchalantly going for the closet as if looking for another top. “I was lazy this morning.” You shrug, rummaging through your clothes. “Now thanks to you, I have to actually get dressed.” 

“No, no,” he immediately replies, reaching out to grab your arm with a mischievous twinkle in his pacific hues. “I don’t think you do, actually.” With that, he pulls you in for a rough and passionate kiss, fingers tangling through your light colored hair while his other hand roams your fit figure, squeezing your waist. You giggle softly against his lips, immediately melting into his hold as you kiss him back, your hands moving up to hold his bearded face. He scoops you up into his arms without breaking the kiss, carrying you out of the walk-in closet and over to the bed. You can’t help but tease a little as you press your breasts against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and opening your mouth for him to allow his tongue access. 

He groans quietly as he falls down onto the bed with you, hovering over you as you lie on your back. He briefly breaks the kiss to pull his t-shirt off his head, his soft hair ruffling slightly as he does so. “It’s really annoying what a fuckin’ tease you are,” he mutters in a husky Boston accent, leaning back down to pepper your jawline and neck in kisses. You smile as you tilt your head, sighing in content as you run your hands over his chiseled abdomen. “As if you’re much better,” you retort, rubbing your fingers firmly into his muscle- something you can never get enough of. He’s so much bigger than you, but it only makes you feel more secure. Not to mention it’s definitely a turn on that he can simply pick you up and throw you around like a little doll.

He continues moving his lips down, kissing your collarbone slowly and lovingly before getting to your breasts, his fingers playfully teasing your nipple as he starts sucking on the other breast roughly. You can’t help but moan, arching your back towards him as your hands reach for his hair, pulling slightly. “Chris…” He simply smirks, teeth barely toying with your nipple to make you squirm just a little more before his lips continue their journey down your flat stomach. Once they reach the hem of your shorts, you can’t help but shudder slightly, already beginning to feel sensitive. “Take them off,” you whine impatiently, and he chuckles deeply, glancing up at you with a raised brow. “Getting a little bossy, hm, baby? Wasn’t I the one who won the bet?”

“Please,” you whine, and he grins, obliging as his fingers tug down the shorts and the underwear along with them. He pulls them completely off your legs before spreading them open, tongue running over his lips. “Ya know, Jules,” he breathes out as he dips his head down, “I think we should make bets more often.”

You can’t even respond before his tongue is already swiping across the slick of your wet folds, a soft and shaky gasp escaping your lips. After what seems like ages of teasing kitten licks, making you whine and whimper desperately for more, he finally pushes his tongue inside your heated core, a low growl of content rumbling from deep in his throat. You feel his beard scratch against your skin, but you love every second of it. Your head is rolling on the pillow, your fingers curled tightly in his fluffy brown hair, your eyes fluttering shut every now and then, your cheeks completely flushed- it’s almost overwhelming how damn good at this he is. His tongue works you so easily, as if he knows just what each and every small movement can do to you- he knows how to pleasure you better than you know how to pleasure yourself.

When you finally release, moaning in pure ecstasy, he laps it all up with delight, his breaths heavy from arousal and his blue eyes practically piercing through yours. “I fucking love eating you out,” he murmurs with a small smirk, lifting his head and letting out a satisfied exhale. “I could do it all day, but fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”

“Then feel free,” you practically beg; he immediately removes his pants and boxers, moving back up on the bed to get on his side next to you. Grabbing your waist, he flips you onto your own side, his large hand running down the light curves of your body before reaching your ass and smacking it roughly. “You’re so fucking perfect, Jules,” he groans, squeezing and groping it as he leans down to suck hungrily all over your neck, pushing aside your strawberry blond locks. “Are you ready for me to fuck you right into this damn mattress?”

“Y-yes, yes,” you whimper breathlessly, reaching behind to run your fingers through his hair, arching your back so that your ass is even closer to his hard on. “Please, please fuck me already, Chris…”

He growls turned on simply from hearing you, glancing down to guide his shaft into your entrance, holding your waist tightly. “Shit.” He hisses as he thrusts into you from behind, his other hand wrapping around you to play with your breasts, his hips bucking forward roughly. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight…! God damn!”

You’re a mess of delighted moans and mewls, your head tilting back- he takes advantage of this as he leans over to kiss you hard, the hand roaming your waist moving to give your bouncing ass another smack. “Mm… mm… you take my cock… so fucking well…” he growls in between steamy kisses, thrusting even harder and faster, his jawline clenched as his teeth pull at your lower lip. “How many times am I going to make you cum today, hm?”

In the midst of the euphoric haze swimming through your mind, it’s almost hard to count. Once. Twice. Three times. You’re exhausted but exhilarated, he’s so damn addicting. He’s finally reaching his limit; he shakes the sweat out of his hair, panting as he practically jackhammers into you. “God damn!! Jules, fuck, I’m… I’m gonna fucking cum!”

You moan in pleasure, your body shaking as your final orgasm rips through you, releasing once again onto him. He cums inside you- his favorite place to cum, after all- his chest heaving and his lips parted. He finally pulls out, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling breathlessly. He pulls you close with an arm around you, shaking his head to himself. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” He finally turns his head to look down at you, smirking slightly. “Ya know, I was a little worried having a girlfriend who doesn’t have the same #1 team as me, but I think if we keep this up we’ll be just fine.”

You laugh, still just as breathless as you lie close to him, playfully smacking his chest. “You’re going to lose next time, just so you know. And then I’m going to have all the ice cream in the world.”