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sturnioz · 6 months ago

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‘THE BEST MAN’ — CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

pairing. christopher sturniolo x fem!reader genre. fluff, smut

word count. 7.1k

❝this is a wedding! i'm trying to be classy today!❞

content warnings. plot with smut, explicit content, sex with a stranger(?), oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, bathroom sex, riding, dirty talk,

authors note. not sure if i wrote chris well :/ but first chris fic on the blog yay, i hope you enjoy

You remember the first day you met Jennie: her soft hair curled in waves down her back, the rosy red tint on the apples of her cheeks from the cold weather, and how her smile and eyes gleamed when she introduced her twelve-year-old self to you at the playground. She was dressed in a sage green sweatshirt and jeans, and even though it was a simple outfit choice, you couldn’t deny how gorgeous she looked in it.

You remember the first day you witnessed Jennie suffer through her first heartbreak; her hair thrown up messily with strands framing her face, her eyes were puffy and wet, and her chapped lips were curled into a frown. She had a sage green blanket wrapped around her form as she sat in her room, surrounded by endless amounts of tissues that were scattered from the door to her bed.

It’s crazy, you thought. Even at that moment, she still looked gorgeous.

You remember the first day Jennie had met ‘the one’: her hair tied back into a sleek ponytail, her eyes adorned with glittery makeup, and her lips full and glossy. She wore sage green jewellery that dangled from her ears and around her neck. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink as she locked eyes with a man at the grocery store, and a shy grin formed on her lips as she kept her gaze on his, completely mesmerised by his appearance. Despite her nervousness, she still looked gorgeous.

Today will be another unforgettable day—her wedding day.

You’re captivated by her beauty: her hair is curled in waves down her back, just like the day you first met her, with strands framing her face. Her makeup is light and gentle, her eyes shining with excitement as she patiently waits for the makeup artist to apply the finishing touches. Her body is covered in the most beautiful sage green wedding dress you have ever seen.

“Are you going to cry?” Jennie’s voice teases you as she meets your eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and her bottom lip forms into a playful pout. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying.”

The makeup artist tuts, pointing her brush at you warningly. “No crying.”

You laugh and gently pat under your eyes, hoping not to feel any moisture. “I’m not going to cry. You look gorgeous, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” Jennie smiles softly in response to the compliment, expressing her appreciation. She also gives a quiet thanks to the makeup artist who had just finished touching up her face. Jennie leans forward to take a good look at herself in the mirror, pleased with the results. “My mother wasn’t too happy about me going for a coloured theme instead of the traditional white wedding, though.”

“It’s your wedding. You do whatever you want,” You reassure her, briefly glancing down at your silk, cream bridesmaid dress and smoothing your hands over the material. “Sage green has always been your colour, anyways. I would’ve been surprised if it wasn’t included in your wedding.”

Jennie beams in response, “Right! But on top of that, my dad wasn’t happy either. He wanted a traditional wedding in a church… He’s not exactly thrilled to be invited to his only child greenhouse wedding.”

“This wedding is for you and Justin, not your parents,” You say with a straight face, clearly not impressed with her parents' thoughts towards the special day. “If anyone needs to be happy and satisfied, it’s you two.”

“Well, I would be even happier if you brought a date—”

You interject, deadpanning, “Are you seriously bringing this up again?”

“It’s my wedding!” Jennie whines, turning around in her chair to face you with a pout. “How could you not bring a date? What happened to the guy you were speaking to on Tinder? I thought things were going well with him!”

You immediately scoff at the mention of him, shaking your head. “He was completely obsessed with talking about himself that I could barely get a word in, and he was constantly glued to his phone, looking at his ex-girlfriend’s social media posts. Hard pass.”

Jennie purses her lips in deep thought, absentmindedly playing with the end of her curls as she contemplates. You observe her, knowing that look all too well—the look of an idea brewing in her head or a plan already forming.

You prepare yourself to immediately disagree with whatever she’s about to suggest. However, before anything spills out, the door to the room slides open, revealing Jennie’s mother, who gasps at the sight of her daughter.

Taking it as your cue to give them some privacy, you announce quietly that you’re going to step outside for some fresh air. You briefly greet Jennie’s mother, offering a gentle rub on her arm as you pass by, and allow the door to slide shut behind you.

You take this as your cue to leave, wanting the two to be alone and experience a moment together. You mumble to Jennie that you’re going to step outside for some fresh air before giving a quick greeting to her mother, rubbing her arm gently as you slip past, allowing the door to slide shut behind you.

The exhale you breathe out is deep, and your heels click against the marble flooring of the building as you make your way outside and into the sun, the warm rays shining down, and you shield your eyes with your hand to block the bright beams. You gaze over at the greenhouse conservatory where guests are mingling outside or taking their seats inside.

A smile forms on your face as you spot familiar faces, waving to a few old classmates Jennie had invited, and you begin to walk towards them, intending to give them a warm welcome. But as you take a step forward, your right foot twists beneath you, your heel becoming lodged in a crack in the concrete below.

You smile when you see a few people you recognise, waving at a few old classmates that Jennie had invited and you go to walk towards them to give them all a proper welcome, until your right foot twists beneath you, your heel getting caught in the crack of the concrete below you.

A panicked ‘Holy shit!’ escapes from the side, and a hand reaches out, grabbing hold of your bicep to steady you and prevent any further damage. You wince at the slight twinge of pain in your ankle, but you’re relieved to find that nothing seems to be broken when you look down. You mutter curses under your breath for wearing heels that you’re not used to walking in.

You turn your head to thank your rescuer, expecting to see them chuckling at your clumsiness, but you’re taken aback when you see a boy with messy, brunette hair staring at you with wide, startled light blue eyes and his mouth agape.

His attractive appearance catches your attention, and since he’s an unfamiliar face, you’re intrigued to know who he is and what connection he might have to the wedding. But before you can utter a word, he breaks the silence between you both.

“You literally almost died.”

Your brow raises in amusement, “That’s a little dramatic.”

“No, I’m dead serious. It was a Final Destination moment waiting to happen. Ankle snapped in half, face smashed to the ground, all mangled, blood everything… I swear, I had the visions, dude.”

You blink, taken aback by his vivid imagination. “You have an interesting way with words.”

The corner of his lips curls into a mischievous grin. “And you have an interesting way of walking.”

“Touché,” You respond, pursing your lips as you glance down at your heels with a soft hum. “I blame them. They’re difficult to walk in.”

He chuckles, his eyes lingering on your heels for a moment, “I mean, I’d be nice and offer to swap but, uh, I don’t think your shoes go with my outfit.”

You playfully raise an eyebrow at him, taking the opportunity to thoroughly check him out. His white dress shirt is neatly tucked into his black trousers, accentuating his slim waist. His black blazer is left unbuttoned, and the matching coloured tie lays clean and ironed against his chest.

You can’t help but grin, “I don’t know… I think you’d look pretty good in a pair of heels.”

He bursts into genuine laughter, a faint blush colouring his cheeks as he runs his fingers through his hair. He then extends his hand towards you, introducing himself as Chris. You smile and take his hand in yours, introducing yourself in return, and the sound of him softly repeating your name sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Chris goes on to explain that he’s one of Justin’s brothers and also one of the best men chosen, mentioning that he’s the youngest triplet. You share with him how you know Jennie and that you’re her only bridesmaid, filling him in on the little details.

He listens intently as you explain your long-standing friendship with Jennie, smiling warmly at you and even adding his own comments about when he first met her, and how well she and Justin are matched, to which you instantly agree.

The conversation between you both flows so smoothly that you’re almost shocked, unable to fully understand how you can feel so comfortable and compatible with someone you’ve just met—you more or less wish you had met someone like Chris on Tinder instead.

“I think the ceremony is about to start,” Chris announces, glancing at his phone to check the time and the messages flooding his screen. He pockets his phone and wets his lips, a grin spreading across his face. He extends his arm towards you, offering it to you. “Can I walk you inside? You know, just in case you trip over your heels again or something.”

Feeling a bit shy but unable to contain your own grin, you nod in agreement. You slide your arm through his, your hand resting against his bicep. “Just in case, of course.”

The ceremony unfolded before your eyes, and it became the most beautiful moment you’ve ever witnessed.

Tears well up in your eyes as you watch Jennie make her way down the white carpeted aisle, arm in arm with her father, and a radiant smile gracing her lips. She looks absolutely stunning.

The second wave of emotion hits you as you witness the love and happiness between Jennie and Justin. Their whispered vows, the tender embrace, and the loving kiss they share leave you and many others in tears. The guests join in with boisterous claps and heartfelt cheers, celebrating their union.

And then the third, and thankfully final, wave of tears washes over you as the triplets take the stage for their best men’s speech. Chris, in his touching words, comments on the beauty of Jennie and the ceremony. Matt chimes in, expressing that in all the years of being Justin’s brother, he has never seen him this happy, thanking Jennie for the permanent smile on his face. Nick follows suit, expressing his eternal gratitude to her for bringing happiness to his brother’s life.

Third, and thankfully final, wave of waterworks happened when the triplets began their best-men speech, how Chris commented on how beautiful Jennie and the ceremony was, and how Matt was the one to claim that in the many years of being Justin’s brother, he has never seen him this happy and that the permanent smile on his face was all thanks to Jennie, to which Nick followed through and admitted how eternally grateful he would be for her giving his brother his happiness.

You weren’t going to cry again, although the food served at dinner tasted delicious, and you resist the urge to kneel down and praise the chefs for their outstanding work. Instead, you keep your emotions at bay and thank them as they come to clear the plates from your table.

Tess, a shared friend of yours and Jennie’s, strikes up a conversation with you during dinner, reminiscing on past memories and current. Then her eyes get fixed on the happy couple mingling with Justin’s family, and she comments;

“You know, I always knew Jennie would be the first one from our class to get married. I just didn’t expect it to be with someone slightly older,” Tess smacks her red, painted lips together and takes a sip of her wine, nursing the glass in her hand. “She’s always had this aura about her, you know? Meeting the perfect guy young, falling in love, getting married in her twenties, living in a fancy home with a white picket fence, husband, kids—maybe even a dog or two. God, I wish I had my life planned out like that.”

You raise an eyebrow and offer a gentle reminder, “Well, nothing is stopping you. How are things going with you and Ryan?”

Tess gives you a look, “Do you see a ring on my hand?”

“Not yet,” A chuckle leaves your lips, pushing Tess’s hand out of your face as she waves it in front of you.

She laughs, retracting her hand back to tuck her hair behind her ears. “What about you? Have you been seeing anyone recently?”

“No,” You can’t help but sound a bit bitter as you respond, not in the mood to recount the string of disappointing Tinder dates and unsatisfying hookups that have left you feeling frustrated. “I’m going to live a miserable single life. Maybe I’ll get a dog to make me feel less lonely.”

“The last time we spoke, you were seeing Jennie’s cousin, right? Was his name Liam?” His name makes you grimace and Tess snorts, covering her mouth to conceal the rest of her amusement. “Was it that bad?”

“To be fair, he did warn me that us fucking in his apartment would be risky because of his roommate being there.”

Tess’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? Does his roommate never leave the apartment?”

You let out a frustrated wail, frowning at the memory. “No! They share a fucking room. Their beds are literally pressed together, toe to toe!” Tess is unable to control her laughter now, almost spitting her wine across the table as she splutters, but you take no notice as you shiver at the memory. “They turned their perfectly capable extra bedroom into a makeshift gym… it was scary.”

“Please, your dates can’t be all that bad,” Tess says, and you almost break into the story of your much recent date that you had explained to Jennie prior, but your attention is drawn to a soft call of your name. You turn in your seat to see Chris standing behind you, wearing a boyish yet kind grin on his lips.

It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to realise that he’s asking if the chairs beside you are free, and you nod dumbly, offering him a smile as you expect him to grab the vacant chair and take it wherever he needs to go. But to your surprise, Chris slides the chair out from beneath the table and sits beside you.

He begins to explain, “Justin and Jennie are talking with her family. Nick is taking pictures, and Matt’s with our parents. It was getting a little boring over there, so I hope you don’t mind me bothering you instead.”

“Not at all,” You smile warmly at him, “The speech was amazing, by the way.”

Tess chimes in without missing a beat, her tone teasing. “She cried,” She nods towards you, and you playfully nudge her with your shoulder. “But she’s right, though. You and your brothers did a great job with the speeches.”

Chris grins in response, running his fingers through his hair to push the curls away from his face. You can’t help but admire the sight, a desire to reach out and run your own fingers through his locks briefly crossing your mind. But you keep your hands occupied with holding your wine glass, maintaining a respectful distance.

Tess’s boyfriend, Ryan, soon joins the table, and he immediately strikes up a conversation with Chris. The two of them engage in a series of discussions and topics that leave Chris laughing loudly, unable to keep himself upright, his shoulder brushing against yours every so often, and you can’t help but feel flustered as his warmth radiates towards you.

You are so embarrassingly touch starved.

As the conversation continues, Ryan suddenly excuses himself, mentioning that he’ll treat the entire table to drinks. Chris offers to accompany him, and he dips his head low in your direction to quietly ask about your drink preference, but Ryan’s hand clamps down on Chris’s shoulder, assuring him that he knows everyone’s favourite drinks. With a firm tug, Ryan pulls Chris towards the bar, leaving you momentarily disappointed and longing for more interactions with him.

Tess observes the duo walking towards the bar, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face. She then shifts her gaze to you and comments, “He’s cute. Like, really cute.”

You nod, a light laugh escaping your lips. “I know,” You admit, your voice filled with amusement. “I actually met him earlier. He saved me from tripping over these heels like an idiot.”

“Wow… so, you literally fell for him.”

“Funny,” You snort, finding her words amusing. Finishing the last sip of your wine, you place the empty glass on the table and wipe the corner of your lips with a napkin. Your attention shifts towards the bar, where Chris and Ryan are engrossed in conversation, both laughing. “Fuck,” You mutter softly. “He really is cute.”

“Ask for his number,” Tess suggests, “Or bring him home with you later. Keep your bed warm.”

You playfully gasp in response, “This is a wedding! I’m trying to be classy today.”

“Oh, I’m far from classy,” Tess scoffs, sending a sultry look towards Ryan, who meets her eyes from across the room and winks at her. “I almost jumped Ryan outside when I saw him dressed in the suit.”

You burst into laughter at Tess’s comment, but before you can fully respond, Chris and Ryan return back to the table, carrying a tray of drinks. They distribute the beverages, and you patiently wait your turn, smiling at Chris as he takes his seat beside you, holding two glasses of red wine in his hand.

He hands one over to you, “You cool with red wine?”

You hum, taking the glass between your fingers with a smile. “I’m cool.”

Chris returns your smile, his grin widening as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Cool.”

The drinks start to flow through your system, and soon you find yourself becoming increasingly tipsy and talkative. Engaging in lively conversations with the table, the topics range from various subjects to the details of the wedding itself. Jennie and Justin finally join in, accompanied by Nick and Matt.

Chris, too, seems to be in a similar state of tipsiness, becoming more talkative and touchy.

You don’t mind when you feel Chris unintentionally lean against you, his body pressing lightly to yours as he listens intently to Jennie she speaks. He hangs onto her every word, his laughter filling the air whenever Justin interjects with a joke or flirty comment, or when Matt and Nick chime in with their own commentary.

During this interaction, you can’t help but notice how animated Chris becomes when he speaks. His hands are in constant motion, emphasising his points, clapping them together, or even slamming them down on surfaces when something particularly funny is said.

You’re taken aback when Chris dramatically sighs in response to one of his brothers’ teasing and drops his hands, unintentionally resting them on your thigh. The warmth of his palm against your skin and the gentle tapping of his fingers send a rush of sensations through you. It’s a moment that catches your full attention, leaving you unsure of how to react.

Chris seems oblivious to what he’s done, perhaps too caught up in the conversation or the effects of the drinks. You contemplate whether to subtly let him know or allow the touch to continue, as you find yourself enjoying the comforting and slightly arousing sensation. It feels nice, and a part of you doesn’t want it to end.

You bite back any type of response or comment, and you hide your grin behind the rim of your wine glass, taking a sip while ignoring Tess’s lingering gaze and her teasing nudge against your side. Jennie also catches on quickly, wiggling her eyebrows in your direction before leaning into Justin’s ear to whisper something.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes when Justin gazes at you, likely picking up on the situation as well.

The attention shifts away from the two of you and back to the ongoing conversation, allowing you to exhale deeply, relieved that the focus has been diverted.

However, Chris notices your sigh and leans in close, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers in concern. “You good? Did you have too much to drink or something?”

You turn to face him with a smile, assuring him, “I’m okay.” His worry immediately fades as he returns your smile.

Just as he’s about to say something else, a small movement causes his hand to shift on your lap. Chris’s head drops down, his eyes widening comically as he realises where his hand has been this entire time.

“Oh shit,” He slowly withdraws his hand, “Oh. Wow. Damn. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” You interrupt, wanting to ease any embarrassment or discomfort he may be feeling. You gather your courage and place your hand on top of his, causing his hand to settle back onto your thigh. You notice his throat bob as he swallows, his eyebrow twitching as his gaze shifts between your hands and your eyes. Wanting to reassure him, you repeat, “It’s okay.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Chris asks, and despite wanting to make sure you were fully okay with the situation, he turns his hand beneath yours, palm to palm, his fingers twitching with the urge to intertwine.

But you take the initiative and lace your fingers together, holding his hand firmly in your grasp. Chris bites down on his cheek and glances away, unable to hide the goofy smile that spreads across his lips, and his grip tightens on your hand, his thumb gently grazing across your knuckles. he turns his hand around beneath yours, palm to palm, his fingers twitching against your own as he was desperate to lace them together, but it was you who took that initiative.

“Oh. I love this song!” Jennie exclaims loudly at the sound of a familiar song playing in the venue, drawing everyone's attention to the dance floor. She pulls Justin up with her and looks over at you. “You coming?”

You find yourself torn between wanting to dance and not wanting to let go of Chris’s hand just yet, and a sense of selfishness washes over you.“You go dance together. I’m going to finish up my drink.”

Jennie smirks and sends a sly wink your way before she and Justin make their way to the dance floor. Meanwhile, Ryan stands up with Tess on his arm and asks Chris if he’s coming too. Chris hesitates for a moment before declining, his hand subtly squeezing yours beneath the table, a small gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Ryan shrugs and accepts Chris’s decision, along with Matt and Nick, as they all head towards the dance floor. Nick, in particular, cranes his head back towards you and Chris, giving his brother a cheesy thumbs up to which you almost snort at.

As you watch the guests on the dance floor, a feeling of warmth fills your heart. The happiness radiates from the people around you, especially Jennie and Justin, who are wrapped up in each other’s arms, sharing whispered words and sweet kisses.

Lost in your observation, you fail to notice Chris trying to get your attention amidst the music. It’s only when he leans in close, his voice hushed, that you become aware of his attempt to talk to you. Struggling to hear him, you lean in ever closer, feeling a shiver run down your neck as his warm breath brushes against your skin. He asks if he can have your number.

For a quick moment, you’re stunned by his request, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events. However, you quickly regain your composure and nod your head in agreement, a smile forming on your lips. Chris wastes no time, swiftly retrieving his phone from his pocket with his free hand as the other remains intertwined with yours.

He hands you his phone, already unlocked and ready for you to put in your number. You can’t help but smile even wider as you type in your name and number, playfully adding a heart emoji to your contact information. Chris grins upon seeing it, and you notice in surprise that he doesn’t even attempt to remove the heart or replace it with a different emoji. He simply shuts off his phone and pockets it, leaving the heart intact.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you bask in each other’s company, listening to the music, watching others dance and mingle around you. You’re typically the first one on the dance floor, letting the rhythm and the music move you. But right now, you’re content sitting beside the cute boy with your hands locked together.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you decide to break the silence as you ask, “So, how come you didn’t want to dance?” You glance at him, taking a sip of your wine..

“I’m fine right here,” He replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Why didn’t you want to dance?”

You muster up the courage to be bold with your answer, “Because I didn’t want to let go of your hand.”

“Wow,” Chris’s laughter fills the air, and he unconsciously swipes his tongue across his bottom lip as he tries to conceal his obvious grin. “You’re bold,” He says. “You kind of make me feel nervous sometimes.”

Raising an eyebrow, you press,, “A good nervous or a bad nervous?”

Chris exhales deeply, a genuine smile finally breaking through as he meets your gaze, “A really good nervous,”

Feeling more confident in yourself, you lean in closer to Chris, pressing your side against his. He laughs and allows you to do as you please, his fingers squeezing around your own in response. The close proximity between you both makes him feel a little hot beneath the collar.

Lost in the moment and distracted by you, Chris forgets that he’s still holding his glass in his other hand. As your face draws closer, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip, he accidentally loosens his grip on the stem of the glass when your nose brushes against his.

The drink spills over his lap, causing him to let out a surprised noise and jerk back in shock. He quickly releases your hand to grab the now half-empty glass, staring at the mess he’s created, a slight pink hue colouring his cheeks.

Chris is clearly embarrassed, sitting in stunned silence, not uttering a single word as he assesses the damage. Meanwhile, you gasp loudly, your hand flying to cover your mouth in shock.

Apologies spill out of you in rapid speed as you realise the consequences of your actions, blaming yourself for diverting Chris’s attention and causing the spill. You hastily grab a napkin from the table, tapping his lap in an attempt to dry his pants, all while continuing to whisper your sorrys. Despite the fact that his pants are black and won’t show a stain, you still feel responsible and guilty.

Chris’s eyes widen as he watches you, body frozen and his mouth dry as he feels your touch pressing against him. He’s unable to move or speak, caught off guard when he feels you press against his cock. It’s only when you start to wipe that he finally reacts, snatching your wrist in his grasp and emitting a choked groan.

“I’m good,” He strains, his voice tight as he tries to regain his composure. You immediately pull back once you realise how you were touching him. Embarrassed, you remain silent, unable to meet his eyes as you look away, avoiding any further interaction despite the thought of making him hard just from some mere touching leaves an ache between your legs, and you press your thighs together as you clear your throat.

Desperate to change the topic or find an escape route from the embarrassment, you suggest getting Chris another drink, glancing at his half-empty glass and then at the bar. However, Chris interrupts you before you can finish your offer, coughing and shaking his head.

“No, it’s good, you’re fine,” He insists, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, pulling at his blazer to hide the bulge forming in his pants. “I’m, like, sorry… by the way.”

Quickly, you reassure him that he doesn’t need to apologise, taking the blame upon yourself for distracting him and causing the drink to spill.

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Chris cuts you off once again, making it clear that he’s referring to something else entirely. You swallow thickly, realising what he’s alluding to, and you shake your head, wanting to assure him that it’s okay. However, he continues, stumbling over his words. “I’m talking about me—okay, shit, look. It just happens, you know, and when you were touching me—”

You interrupt him this time, “It’s flattering, really,” you admit with a small chuckle to escape. “It’s fine, I promise. I’m sorry for touching you, though. I was only trying to help… and I understand that it's a totally normal reaction, so don’t worry. It’s cute.”

Chris stares at your face in silence for a moment before responding in a lighthearted tone. “Did you just call me getting hard cute?”

You grimace at your choice of words, “Pretend you didn’t hear that. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Before you can start rambling and making excuses for your mistake, your voice trails off as you feel Chris’s hand slide back into yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, and you bite back a gasp as he gently guides your intertwined hands back to his lap, causally resting the back of your hand against the bulge in his pants. It makes your head spin.

You need him—no, you want him.

The thoughts that run through your mind and the needy ache between your legs has you desperate to be touched, to be fucked, all by him.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” You announce, noticing the rejected look on Chris’s face as he loosens his hold on your hand. However, you quickly tighten your grip, not wanting to let go. “Do you want to come with me?”

Chris looks confused. “What? To the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Do you, like, need help peeing or something?” Chris asks, unsure of your intentions.

“No, I don’t need to pee,” You can’t help but laugh, causing Chris to give you a puzzled look. Your attention is fully on him now, your eyes dark and tone sultry. “I just really want to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh…” Chris blinks, his eyebrows knitting together as he’s even more confused. But then, it all seems to dawn on him what you’re hinting towards, and his eyebrows raise slightly. “Oh.”

“So,” Your voice is laced with anticipation. “Do you want to come to the bathroom with me?”

Chris nods eagerly, his grip on your hand tightening. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You pull Chris up from his seat as soon as he gives you the confirmation you’ve been waiting for and you navigate through the crowded dance floor, heading towards the bathroom area.

Chris is hot on your heels, his hand still tightly clasped in yours, and almost tripping over his own shoes due to the speed you’re walking in, and him trying to keep up with you, ensuring not to stray too far from each other.

Unbeknownst to you, Justin and Jennie watch with amused smirks on their faces, exchanging celebratory fist bumps before sharing a sweet kiss of their own.

Finally reaching the bathroom area, Chris chuckles deeply as you yank him inside a vacant stall, closing and locking the door behind you. He takes in his surroundings first—the clean white marbled floor and walls painted with green vines.

“Wow,” Chris murmurs, seemingly impressed. “This bathroom is actually pretty neat—what are you doing?”

Your fingers are pulling at the buttons on his pants as you simply state, “I’m going to suck you off.”

“Yeah?” Chris hums, licking at his lips as he watches you drop to your knees, and his eyebrows pull together in concern when he notices your bridesmaid dress is wrinkling and losing its pristine condition. “What about your dress?”

“You’re worried about my dress? That’s cute,” You smile up at him. You free his cock from his trousers and boxers, and you wrap your fingers around the base which causes him to hiss through his teeth at the contact. “I don’t really care about my dress right now. All I care about is making you feel good.”

“Alright,” Chris slumps down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks down at you with hazy vision. “Go on. Do what you want.”

The moment he gives you the permission, you take him into your mouth, and a string of curse words leaves his lips, running his fingers through his hair as he stares down at you.

His cock feels hot and heavy on your tongue, and you take him down your throat, sucking him in and squeezing your fingers around the base that you struggle to fit all the way into your mouth. He’s big, bigger than you expected, and it drives you wild—the ache in between your legs becoming almost unbearable, but you want to play with him a little longer, to taste him more.

With Chris watching you through lidded eyes, it fuels you to put on a show for him, and that’s exactly what you do. You pull back, close your lips around his tip, sucking and using your tongue around his sensitive head. He’s panting above you, a throaty moan leaving him when you take him deeper into your mouth, jerking him off with each twist of your fist.

“You can touch me,” You remind him, a string of spit connecting from your lips to the tip of his cock when you move back to catch your breath. “Touch me, Chris.”

“Man, you’re insane,” Chris laughs deeply, and his hand comes down to rest on the back of your head. His fingers thread your through hair, gripping at the roots as he pushes you further down on his cock, and you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat so suddenly. But you breathe steadily through your nose, hollowing your cheeks around him, drool seeping past your lips. “Fucking filthy girl.”

You hum around his cock at his words, and you shuffle closer to kneel better between his open legs. The slight sting on your scalp from his tight grip on your hair urges you to do better, to give him everything you've got. The burn in the back of your throat is pleasurable and you moan, causing his hips to jerk forward at the vibration, and you take him in deeper.

“Oh, fuck me,” Chris grunts, pushing your head down. “Fuck. Just like that—god.”

You pull off of him with a lewd pop, and you use your hand to jerk him off as your glossy lips form into a sweet smile. “You’re noisy, you know.”

“What do you expect?” Chris hums with a lighthearted laugh, and his hand comes down from the top of your head to caress your cheek, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “I got a pretty girl on her knees in front of me sucking my cock, the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Your heart swells in your chest as you repeat, “Pretty girl?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods, grinning down at you. “The prettiest, ma.”

The choked groan that leaves him when you let go of his cock almost makes you take him into your hands again, but you’re too needy for him now—desperate to be filled by him.

Usually, you would scold yourself for allowing such a bare minimum compliment to get you so hot and bothered, but you didn’t care, not when it sounded so fucking good coming from him.

Chris watches with wild eyes as you yank your underwear down your legs, discarding them to the side and bunching the hem of your dress up to your waist as you ease yourself down on his lap. One of his hands comes to rest at your hip, and the other grips your jaw, finally bringing you in for a first kiss.

The kiss is sweet at first—soft and delicate, and Chris even takes a moment to lean back to gaze at your face with a small grin on his face. The grip he has on your jaw tightens a little, causing your lips to pucker up and he hums, nose brushing against yours before he claims your lips again.

This time, it’s more frantic. You’re biting at his bottom lip, his tongue dips into your mouth, teeth clashing, and his hands move to fist the material of your dress, bunching it higher over your hips as your own hand dips between your body to line his cock at your entrance, and you sink down onto him.

Chris grunts into your mouth while you moan, the feeling of him filling you so deep making your toes curl. Your arms wind around his shoulders to keep yourself steady as you leisurely bounce on his lap, and Chris’s grip is tight on your hips as he thrusts up into you.

He’s kissing you breathless, and you’re too drunk on his lips and cock to pull away for air. You lace your fingers through his curls as you fuck youtself down on him, putting all of your energy in riding him and it’s Chris that breaks the kiss to curse loudly with a moan, panting as he stares at you with wide eyes and red, swollen lips.

“You feel good,” Chris grunts. You clamp around him, whining softly at his compliment. “Fuck, ma… you’re so fucking tight f’me.”

“You’re being noisy again.” You repeat from before in a teasing tone, even though you’re not particularly quiet yourself. You’re unable to keep your noises at a minimum as you moan loudly when he matches the rhythm of your hips.

Chris laughs, “Shut up.”

Admittedly, you like the way he sounds edging closer and closer to release, and you would like to relish in the sound a little more, but when you hear the bathroom door suddenly open, your eyes widen as your hand flies down from his hair to slap over his mouth to silence him. Chris stares up at you in alarm as someone walks into the stall beside yours.

You’re still lifting and dropping yourself back down on him, and he’s still fucking up into you to keep the pace despite not wanting to get caught. But you’re thankful that whoever is beside you has flushed the toilet the second you let out a wail when his cock hits a spot within you, and Chris is quick to silence you too, pressing his hand over your own mouth and staring into your eyes.

You’re both panting heavily behind each other’s hands, and you can make out the sound of water running from the sink tap before it shuts off, then the bathroom door opens and creaks shut behind them, leaving you both alone once again.

Still, neither of you move your hand, still keeping each other silent despite the muffled noises you’re both making.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm, and you wonder if Chris feels the same. You get the answer when his eyes roll to the back of his head as he groans, his hand falling from your mouth to hold your waist and pull you down onto him.

As your hand moves from his mouth to touch his face, Chris finally speaks, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too,” You agree, exhaling deeply. “Cum. Cum inside me.”

The corner of Chris’s lips twitch upwards, “Yeah? You want that?”

You nod eagerly, “Yes. Please. Fill me up.”

“Fuck, alright.” Chris grunts, lurching forwards to slot his lips over yours, and his tongue dips into your mouth, gliding with yours as he cums deep within. He keeps moving you against him to reach your own high, and you wail as your orgasm hits you, convulsing around his cock as you hump his lap.

You’re heavily heavily, desperate to catch your breath as you break away from his lips, and he leaves messy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. His hands loosen on your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest and yours slide around his shoulders, fingers threading through his hair as your body trembles.

It’s silent between you both as you embrace each other, and Chris is still kissing your neck with his hands rubbing your back comfortingly, and you melt into his arms. You feel relaxed and content, even though you should be both cleaning yourself up and leaving before anyone else could walk in.

“Just so you know, I don’t do this,” Chris mumbles in the crevice of your neck. Your eyebrows knit together, and you arch back to look at his face, and he smiles at your confused expression. “I mean, like, meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. I don’t do that.”

“I don’t either,” You admit, chewing your bottom lip. “I usually go on at least one date before I do that.”

“Noted,” Chris grins sluggishly. “I’ll take you next time.”

His nonchalant tone makes your heart flutter, and you wonder if he knows what he has just said to you, and if he’s serious on potentially seeing you again. You want to question it, or at least have him repeat it, but you keep your lips pressed together when you notice Chris’s attention is brought to the décor of the stall like it was the first time he came in.

“This bathroom is really nice, though. I wonder if Matt and Nick know about this.”

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

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lyvhie · 20 days ago

Text

forgive me, father | lmk

priest!mark x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: it was really difficult to finally corrupt your favorite priest.

a/n: just a short one i wrote at the subway on my way to college while i try to finish other fics 😔

cw: smut, religious themes, virgin!mark 😝, unprotected sex (i always forget), pet names, read part 2 here.

mark dedicated himself to a life of righteous servitude to the will of god. it was his mission to fight against the darkness and corruption that threatened to consume his world, an obligation to save those who could not save themselves. everything he had done, every choice he made, was done in the belief that it was god's will.

yet all that came crashing down, when you arrived. the one person who could disrupt his entire mission, undoing everything he had worked for, making his service to god seem meaningless.

when you first stepped foot into the church, mark's eyes were on you, but not much thought was given beyond a passing glance. you were merely an unfamiliar face among many. yet, as the days passed, he found himself drawn by the way you looked at him.

he felt your eyes on him, and found your gaze almost stripping him of his usual composure, as if you could see through all his facades. he could sense the desire in your gaze, and it made him feel both exposed and strangely captivated.

but it was fine. mark was no stranger to the attention that came with being a young priest. people were often impressed by his dedication to his role, yet quick to comment that it was a shame for someone as attractive as him to be bound by the church.

things took a turn for the complicated when you started coming to the confession booth with your sins in tow, seeking god's forgiveness. you made it a habit to request a session in the confessional after every mass, claiming to have sinned and in need of forgiveness.

on the surface, it seemed like a normal part of his duties as a priest, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that your visits were not entirely about atonement.

mark's suspicions were confirmed when your confession took a darker turn. you claimed that the devil himself was visiting you in your dreams, taking the form of him and engaging in the most sinful and perverse acts imaginable.

mark was momentarily speechless, struck by the detailed and explicit nature of your dreams. the fact that you spoke so blatantly and without shame about your experiences left him reeling, as if there was a hint of pleasure beneath the surface of your innocent confession. though he couldn't see your face, he could detect a sense of enjoyment in your voice, making him question if you were truly seeking absolution.

he tried to keep a stoic and neutral demeanor throughout your sessions, recognizing that it was his duty as a priest to listen to your worries and absolve you of your sins. yet, deep down, he couldn't deny the effect your words were having on him. the vivid descriptions and your lack of shame stirred something within him, tempting him to let go of his priestly restraint.

mark found it increasingly difficult to maintain his focus during the mass with your glances and suggestive actions. the way you would look at him, biting your lip, wearing clothes that teetered on the edge of propriety, it all made it nearly impossible for him to concentrate on his duties as a divine messenger.

“father…” mark's ears caught the sound of your sweet and coy voice as you approached him after the end of the sacrade. "it happened again," you said, asking for the chance to confess your sins once more.

his only answer was a gentle smile as he guided you to the confessional booth. despite his best efforts to maintain composure, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of what you might confess this time.

“forgive me, father, for i have sinned,” mark braced himself as he heard your familiar start, already tensing in anticipation of what was to come. “it has been a day since my last confession, and despite your absolution, god still seems to be testing me."

“i see," he said quietly, his voice a bit tighter. "and how exactly did you give into the temptation?”

your voice came through in a sigh, and despite your seemingly disappointed tone, mark could detect the deception beneath it. "our last encounter was even better than everything else we had until now," you confessed. "as usual, he climbed into my bed and lay with me, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as his hands roamed my body, touching me with so much sweetness. despite my pleas to god for wisdom, i find myself unable to resist him.”

and so the confession proceeded just as he expected. you told him how the devil, disguised as him, played with all the sweet spots on your body, bringing you to ecstasy countless times to the point where you forgot your own name or at least thought about how what you were doing was wrong, making you crave for more and more. you told him about how frustrating it was for you to have to wake up and realize it was a dream and be forced to satisfy your needs by yourself.

as your words filled the confessional, mark desperately sought to distract his mind. he silently recited the entire lord's prayer, clenching his fists beneath his cassock in an attempt to control the aching erection that strained against his clothing.

mark's heart leaped in his chest as he snapped out of his thoughts, only to find you beginning to conclude your confession. "that's why, father..." you said, your tone suddenly taking a different turn. "after conversing with god, i’ve come to understand that the only way to free myself from these torments is to utterly surrender to these desires.”

“w… what do you mean by that?" confusion etched on his face, he wasn't sure where this was leading.

“i realized that my confessions are doing nothing to help me stop sinning," you sigh. "although your words of comfort ease my heart, it's not enough. what i truly need... is you, mark.”

mark's breath hitched in his throat as your words reached his ears, the way you said his name sent shivers down his spine. he wasn't fool; he understood the implications of what you were saying, and this froze him for a moment as he pondered his response.

it's not that he wasn't used to this kind of approach, but the problem is that it was completely straightforward and came from you. he would be lying if he said he didn't feel some level of attraction towards you.

mark silently thanked god that the confessional booth was separated by a wooden wall, shielding you from the sight of his flushed face. his heart pounded in his chest as he realized the effect your words and presence were having on him. it scared him how easily you could make his emotions spiral out of control, awakening desires he never thought he would feel for a congregant.

mark swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before he began to speak gently. “listen,” he said, his voice composed yet filled with compassion. “while i sympathize with your situation, you must understand that i have duties as a servant of god that prevent me from indulging in acts that go against my beliefs.”

he took a moment to gather his thoughts, contemplating the difficult position he was in. "not only that," he continued. "but there are the obligations of my chastity vows. all i can offer you is my daily prayers, in the hope that god will save your soul."

after his words, an eerie silence filled the confessional booth. mark was consumed with worry, wondering if his response had been too blunt, perhaps even hurtful. maybe he inadvertently made you feel desperate with his refusal to support you in such a hard moment.

he tried to call your name in an attempt to soothe you, but before he could even process what was happening, the door to his side of the confessional booth suddenly swung open, and there you were, stepping into the cramped space. the small confines of the booth made it impossible for the both of you to maintain any distance, your bodies pressed closely together.

in the dim light, mark could make out your face, and it was evident that you were far from happy. annoyed, frustrated, or even angry — whichever it was, it was the first time he had seen such a look on your face. it was a stark contrast from the usual coy or sultry expressions you usually wore.

mark's heart skipped a beat as you spoke, your voice taking on a lower tone. "you know, i’m tired of this game," you said, locking eyes with him.

he swallowed hard, feeling his lips suddenly go dry. "what do you mean?" he managed to ask, his voice trembling slightly.

your voice was sharp, laced with annoyance, as you spoke. "you know damn well what i’m talking about," you continued, your eyes narrowing. "every day, i come here, saying all this nonsense about the devil to share my fantasies with you, and yet here we are, with you still acting like some pure little priest instead of fucking me.”

mark's eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening and closing a few times, struggling to find the right words to respond.

when he finally found his voice, he began hesitantly, "i... i can't, you know i can't. i'm a priest, and i have—"

you cut him off, scoffing and rolling your eyes. "cut the bullshit," you said firmly. "you can't, but you want it. i see the way you look at me, father. it's the same eyes i give you, so don't even bother lying."

mark flinched slightly at your words, feeling a pang of guilt at being seen through so easily. he couldn't deny it. he knew he was having a hard time concealing his true feelings.

mark swallowed hard, his voice quivering slightly as he attempted to deny your accusation. "i do not..." he started, his words faltering. but before he could finish, you leaned even closer, your faces mere centimeters apart. he could feel the heat radiating from your skin, the scent of your perfume filling his senses.

mark couldn't help but follow your gaze as your eyes wandered down to his lips, and he felt an undeniable magnetic pull drawing his attention to your own lips. almost involuntarily, his eyes fixated on them, noticing the subtle wetness left by your sultry tongue. the small confines of the booth made it impossible to ignore the growing tension between you.

"i'll kiss you.”

mark's eyes widened in shock as you announced and, before he could protest, your lips were already on his, pressing against them with a force that left him dumbfounded. the action was so unexpected, so brazen, that he couldn't find it within himself to pull away.

and honestly, he didn't even know if he wanted to.

your gentle touch on his chin was like a command, and he found himself parting his lips to allow your tongue access. a guttural sound escaped his throat, equal parts surprise and pleasure. in a moment of weakness or perhaps surrender, he gave in to the intoxicating kiss, his tongue greedily responding to yours. the taste of your lips and the heat of your tongue sent shivers down his spine, awakening a hunger within him that he had locked away for so long.

mark's hand instinctively found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as the cramped space around you seemed to grow hotter with each passing moment. his heart pounded loudly in his chest, the rapid rhythm almost resonating in his head. a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts filled his mind — how wrong it was, how he was throwing away everything he had defended as a priest.

with effort that felt as if he was fighting against his own nature, mark managed to summon enough strength to break the kiss and pull away from you. both of you were left breathless, struggling to regain your composure as a thin line of saliva connected your mouths. his eyes were clouded with a mixture of desire and conflict, torn between duty and yearning.

"ah, finally," you sighed, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "i’ve been waiting for this so long, you have no idea."

mark felt the words nearly escape his own lips, a silent 'me too' trapped in his throat. but he clenched his jaw, his voice sounding harsher than he meant as he responded, "don't do this again."

your frown deepened as you heard his response, your earlier enthusiasm now replaced by confusion and disappointment. "what?" you asked, your voice laced with disbelief.

mark shook his head as he struggled to hold onto his convictions. "this is just... not right," he repeated, his voice filled with guilt. "that was a mistake."

"are you really going to insist on this?" you repeated, your voice gentler now, as you leaned forward to plant a few gentle pecks on his lips.

but mark's response was a feeble protest, a whispered "stop." he tried to resist, turning his head to evade your kisses, but you pursued him relentlessly, and he couldn't help but reciprocate for a brief moment before pulling back again to avoid your advances.

“stop,” he spoke more firmly this time, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he held you in place. "please," he said, his voice tinged with guilt and resolve. "let's not... just stop,” he then let out a deep sigh. “i will forget what just happened here," he continued. "so about your dreams... i'll keep praying for god to help you, and you should do the same."

you clicked your tongue, the sound cutting through the tense atmosphere, your eyes narrowing as you both engaged in a silent exchange. mark felt the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders, he knew deep down that he could not give in to your desires, no matter how much he wanted to.

a sense of resignation washed over you as you recognized the firmness in mark's voice and accepted that he would not be swayed this time. you let out an annoyed huff and pushed his hands away from your shoulders.

"fine," you muttered, irritation evident in your tone. “thank you for the special session, father." with that, you briskly stepped out of the confessional, leaving him behind.

as your footsteps echoed away and the church fell into a heavy silence, mark emerged from the confessional, his legs feeling weak and shaky. he leaned against one of the wooden pews, desperate for support as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to regain his composure and calm his trembling body.

mark exhaled slowly, he knew he had barely dodged temptation, but the memory of your lips against his still lingered in his mind. with a solemn expression, he made his way to the dressing room, preparing for the long night ahead, knowing he would need to spend hours in prayer and reflection, seeking forgiveness and strength to resist to you.

he sank down onto the couch and buried his face in his hands, his cassock now neatly folded on top of the small coffee table. as he sat in silence, he couldn't help but acknowledge the physical evidence of his encounter with you. his pants were now uncomfortably tight, and he knew he would have to deal with it his own way when he got home.

despite the image he portrayed as a devout priest, mark was not immune to human desires and weaknesses. he had occasionally fantasized about moments like this with you too, allowing himself to acknowledge the human emotions and needs that existed within him.

but the pull of priesthood was strong, and he quickly cast away these conflicted thoughts, replacing them with fervorous prayers, seeking forgiveness for even considering any form of deviance from his sacred path.

however, this time, after finally having tasted just a little bit of you, he wasn't so sure he was strong enough to not give in to temptation, especially after finding out that your confessions were just a way to get his attention — which certainly worked.

mark's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a series of knocks on the door, causing him to raise his eyebrows in slight confusion. he tried to recall if he had any scheduled meetings or visits from believers that night, but nothing came to mind.

with a mixture of curiosity and concern, mark made his way to the door, his mind racing with thoughts about who could be seeking him at such a late hour. he hoped that no one had witnessed or heard the intimate encounter he had shared with you in the confessional, silently praying that he would not have to deal with any unwanted questions or accusations.

“father, it's me.”

mark's worries subsided a bit as he heard your voice on the other side of the door. although he wasn't necessarily eager to see you at that particular moment, it was preferable to encountering anyone else.

but soon he got tense again. you saw each other not long ago and the goodbye wasn't really one of the friendliest you've ever had, so what exactly brought you here?

he reached out to open the door and, once again, before he could even form any words, you grabbed his face and roughly pulled him against your lips, kissing him with such a hunger that left him breathless.

despite the initial shock, mark found himself responding to your kiss with equal fervor, his hands instinctively resting on your hips as you pushed him backwards onto the couch. the unexpected turn of events left him disoriented, but the growing desire coursing through his body overshadowed any rational thoughts.

mark couldn't help but let out a soft moan as you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him with your legs on either side of his body. you pulled back a little to look at him, seeing how out of breath he was made you laugh.

“looks like someone was waiting for this, hm?” you asked as you moved a hand down to caress his bulge over his clothes, making him inhale sharply at the sensation.

mark wasn't thinking about god or sin anymore, now he was just thinking with his dick, barely able to hide how happy he was that you came back as he nodded at your question, his eyes clouded with need.

mark knew that resisting you any further was like trying to swim against a strong current – a futile endeavor. his gaze, now fixed on you, silently pleaded with you to do something about the aching need that had taken hold of him. he no longer wanted to deny the burning desire that danced within him, even if regret would come later.

and you definitely understood that, his big, sparkling eyes told you everything you needed to know, and a smile appeared on your lips. you leaned in to kiss his neck, and then whisper in his ear.

“i’ll be your first, right?” your whisper sending shivers down his spine. “yes,” he said shyly, feeling his ears getting hot. seeming satisfied, you chuckled, tracing the shell of his ear with the tip of your tongue “you know, i thought about a lot of ways to make you cum.”

talking dirty to him was one of the options? because it was working already.

"but as much as i want to play with you," you continued, your hands quickly finding their way to his pants, skillfully unbuttoning them and pulling it down with his help. mark sighed in relief as his dick finally managed to breathe, standing proudly as droplets of precum ran from the tip to the base. "i also really need you so desperately and i've waited for so long, so let's do it quickly.”

mark nodded fiercely, his heart was beating so loud that he was sure you could hear it. he couldn't hold back his moan when you wrapped a hand around his hard cock and stroke it a few times. it was much more better than do it by himself, honestly.

he was holding his breath in anticipation, as he saw you popping up a little to align his cock with your pussy, gasping when he felt you tease yourself with the tip, brushing against your slick folds.

you hadn't been exaggerating when you mentioned your sense of urgency earlier. your choice of outfit for the day was a deliberate one, a thin dress without any panties beneath, specifically selected to make things convenient.

you wanted to tease him more, but your own sense of urgency only allowed you to slowly sink down, you were so wet that he slipped in easily. a guttural sound came from the back of his throat as he felt your gummy walls enveloping him in a warm embrace.

"oh, god," he breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back. he could swear heaven looked exactly like what he was feeling right now.

all the times he had jerked off thinking about you, about what it would be like to be in a moment like this, nothing compared to the actual feeling of being balls deep inside you.

and you were no better than him, all the wait was worth it. your face was buried on his neck as you savored the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix.

his hands tightened their grip on your hips, holding you firmly in place. his chest rose and fell with each shallow, quickened breath, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch the playful laugh that escaped your lips.

"feel that good?" you asked, a hint of mischief in your tone.

as you spoke, mark looked up to meet your gaze, his face now flush with a deep blush from embarrassment and pleasure apparent. “yes,” his voice barely a whisper. “it feels amazing. fuck, it does.”

a slightly arrogant smile took over your face as you heard his admission, it was a wonderful delight to know that you were the one making him feel this way without even having started the real thing.

"then, i'll make you feel even better," you pecked his lips before placing your hands on his shoulders and start to move.

now this was driving him crazy — more than it already was. he couldn't quite put into words, but the way he kept rubbing your inner walls, the way you occasionally clenched around him, the way his name rolled off your tongue in a sweet moan, everything was from another world.

mark wasn’t quite sure what to do other than let you take the lead, but his body moved on its own as he began thrusting his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

his moans and whimpers grew louder as he felt his climax building up, it usually wasn't this quick when he did it himself, but he couldn't hold back when he had your pussy gripping him like that.

he managed to call your name softly, “i-i’m gonna cum,” he warned, beads of sweat running down his forehead. “mhm, i know,” your voice slightly husky. “since it’s your first time, i’ll let you enjoy it until the end,” you continued, “you can cum inside me, sweetie.”

his eyes widened at your words, but he wouldn't and didn't want to protest, he wasn’t on his best judgment right now. he only wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you against him tightly and burying his face on the crook of your neck, thrusting harder, faster.

he felt the familiar knot of his belly, his body tensing and his balls tightening as his thrusts became sloppier. it wasn't long before he came undone under you, painting your walls white as he bit down hard on your neck, muffling his loud moan.

mark leaned back, sinking into the plush cushion of the couch, pulling you with him. the room fell into a hushed silence, the only sounds that could be heard were the soft, uneven breaths of the both of you. mark's arms wrapped around you in a simple yet intimate embrace, holding you close against him, as if he didn't want to let go just yet. his cock softened inside you, keeping his hot seed there, prolonging your feeling of being completely full.

“what are you thinking right now?” you break the silence after a moment and mark chuckled softly at your question, his grip on you loosening slightly as he relaxed into the embrace.

he took a moment to gather his thoughts, his fingers tracing small circles on your back. "i was just thinking about how i might have never experienced such a wonderful… moment if you hadn't been so insolent," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

you pulled away slightly, resting your hands on his shoulders to get a better look at him. a cheeky smile tugged at your lips as you teased, "i’m glad i could be of service. you'll never forget me now," you paused for a moment, your gaze fixed firmly on him. then, you leaned in a bit closer, your voice lowering to a sultry tone. “and, i hope you're ready for more.”

“m-more?” mark blinked a few times, his mind slowly processing the reality of what had just occurred. he was still reeling from the overwhelming pleasure of your touch and now, with his mind clearing, the reality of the situation was sinking in.

“well, i told you i thought of many ways to make you cum, didn't i?”

#mark smut #mark lee smut #mark x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader

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