let’s light our candles, join our hands, and call out to the spirit world together …
so i missed my 2k milestone on accident and then experienced ✨life✨ lol but now i’m here ^^ 💖 i’ve reached 3k with the support and encouragement of all of you so from the bottom of my heart: thank you. i am deeply filled with warmth and love bc of this. again thank you all so much, esp the ones that have shown me sm genuine love and kindness. you all have a permanent residence inside my heart >3< mwah mwah~~
the spirits have answered and they say… tell me your deepest, darkest desires:
⛧ halloween/monster/mythological themed hard hours (think sex hungry demons, cursed spirits, rabid werewolves, etc. monsterfuckers uniteee :3 let’s get weirdddd ~ now’s the time!!)
⛧ kink specific hard hours with solo/multi members (choking, edging, spanking, etc. send it my wayy, come on, don’t be shy now~)
⛧ twitter links (againnn: make it nastyyy or don’t yk if you want vanilla i can give you vanilla too but with a little filth sprinkled in <3)
⛧ any corrupt thoughts you have about ateez that i can build on
psssst, hey, cutie, yeah, you :> sooo i can’t promise that i will get to every ask i receive. i apologize for this but i am simply one person with a life (barely) and a job jdkdh so i will be drawn to the ones that inspire me the most and will do my best to answer to all of your sick, twisted thoughts~ hehe happy halloweennnn :3 <3
*dusts off mic* uhhhhhhh........ did yall miss me?
...... maybe not. LMAO
IM SORRY FOR HAVING BEEN GONE i swear i'm sorry okay........ contrary to the notorious horndog that i am, i haven't been writing and i haven't been as horny so uhhhh... this is a CUMBACK!
don't expect me to post like a machine tho, i'm still uhhhhh.. recovering lol. anywho here is a jongho soft thought that i should've posted abt 2 weeks ago hwgwh. oh well oh well i hope yall are ready to see me on the tl again xoxo
cannot stop thinking about possessive san taking the time to body worship you and make sure you know every single inch of your body is beautiful, loved, and only His. he doesn’t care how impatient you are or what you need — in that moment all he’s devoted to is making sure every piece of his love’s body is adored and tended to. possessive san spelling his name on your clit with his tongue, possessive san spelling his name on your neck with his tongue before he bites and sucks as he leaves hickies, just… possessive, devoted san .
FOR YOU(R) LOVE | choi san x fem!reader
a possessive!san hard thought and sequel to: "𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄)"
"Leave yourself all up to me, love."
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : All of his desire is directed towards you, but sometimes, preferably all the time— San just wants you all for himself.
"All up to my love..."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : hard thought, fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 1.2k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : possessive boyfriend!san, tired girlfriend!reader, hickeys, love-bites, implied cunnilingus & orgasm denial; san wants reader bad and won’t hesitate to be bad
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : okay babes first of all thank you for being my first ever hard hour entry !!! i really appreciate you sharing your (god damn scorching hot) thoughts!! second, because i am not over the "intimate, sexy, tender" yet and probably never will be, here's my gift to you that i started writing as soon as i saw it because i wanted to do something for you!!! xx
this is also an invitation for all of yall to share your hard thoughts with me so i can make a thing out of this lol!!! like come awnnnn "choy hardly thinks" is so funny is it not??? like pls entertain me. hard or soft. i'll be there for you !!!! <33 anyway, always grateful for likes, reblogs, comments and all kinds of feedback xoxo
masterlist link | join my taglist
“Mmm, do you know what, sun?”, San murmurs, finally finished drying his wet hair with a towel from across the room, as you cuddle yourself deeper into the blanket side-ways, preparing to finally get some refreshing sleep, after you spent so much time in that putrid practice room.
“What do I know…”
San throws the soaked towel on the clothing rack and then continues to throw his heavy body against your back, immediately enveloping your physique with his arms, one over and one under your waist, to push his face into the nook of your neck. Through his nose, San breathes in the scent of your shampoo, and inhales the sweetness of your skin, as he plants soft kisses onto it.
“I really like how my name sounds out of your mouth.”
“Yeah?”, you whirr, smiling delicately, getting your fingers tangled up in San’s red strands over your shoulder, not yet realizing that two hours after your last carnal embrace, or not even twenty minutes after you jacked him off in the shower, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you, no, could never be satiated, always preparing to make more place for you in his throbbing heart, especially fill his mind with your voice. “You like it when I call you by your name, Sannie?”
“Mhm,” he hums, and it should have been at this moment you notice how greedy his hand is slowly disappearing below the oversized shirt he gave you to sleep in– little to your knowledge that your boyfriend just wants your scent on his clothing– and catch on the fact you are enamoring San by your mere existence.
“It sounds so pretty,” he lisps, his lips pressed against your shoulder, as he gently pushes you over on your back, “it would feel so pretty, too, sunshine…”
“We’re feeling a lot tonight, aren’t we, Sannie?”, you mumble, slowly feeling your body melt around San’s heated arm securing itself over your waist, his hands slithering down your abdomen, thumb catching every inch of skin to brush over.
San doesn’t answer at first, lets his fingers playing with the seam of your panties and gently groping your breast talk for themselves.
“Sannie,” you sigh out, but your lover has already made up his mind, or at least let his mind run freely.
“Your skin is always extra soft when we’re done showering,” San tries to explain himself, his voice thickening warmly against your neck, and you have to suppress a whine at his fingertips simultaneously finding your clothed cunt and nipple. “Makes me want to touch it, you know…”
“I know, Sannie, I know,” you utter, but your boyfriend is already carrying on with his entranced adulation.
“Makes me want to run my hands all over your skin,” and San does so, by cruising around on your torso, gripping each tit with his calloused hands with an eagerness that makes you bite your lip, “and get a taste of how warm I make you,” you can hear the pecks of his kisses land on your jaw, “shit, Y/N, I want you so fucking bad, I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“S- Sannie,” you whisper, as your boyfriend playfully bites into your ear. “How do you still have the energy…”
“Oh, sunny,” San chuckles and grinds his building erection against your ass, emitting a grunt out of him, “for you I always make energy.”
You say, “I c-can see that,” and lie, because your eyes are closed down, nevertheless making you more sensitive to your lover’s touch, digit rotating on your slowly more and more wet panties.
“It was a long week, wasn’t it?”, San asks and nibbles your earlobe.
“Yeah…”
“A long week of not getting to touch my Y/N…”
“Sannie…”
The man in question hums and gets his arms out, tussling himself away from your side pinning his arms over each side of your head. It makes you need to look up to him through your eyelashes and San looks at you, his so lovable girlfriend, with a hunger and greed you don’t know whether you are prepared for or could ever be prepared for.
“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or are you so tired I have to do it for you, sunshine?”, he asks, wearing a friendly smile that you can only weakly scoff about.
“Sannie…” Unaware that you whimpering out his name only gets him riled up even more, you pout. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow…?”
“It’s already tomorrow, sun,” San smirks, getting his hands under your shirt to get it off your body, immediately getting his mouth at your neck, causing you to moan out and roll your head to the side, granting him more access to your skin. “I’ve got to make love to you right now.”
“Sannie…”
“Ohhh, Y/N.”
You whine at him parroting your worn-out tone, while San seems to be working his tongue into your neck until he can feel your precious heart pulsate through your throat, sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory. You already look so pretty, San thinks, but after your boyfriend sees how his marks embellish you, he really wants you to know what he thinks of you— you, his gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing, ravishable, fuck, so fucking perfect girlfriend.
“How do you expect me to close my eyes and sleep when you look like this, Y/N…”
“Sannie, please,” you murmur, but gulp, when he begins to kiss down your torso; the smacks of his lips linger warmly across your body and San can feel how your cunt clenches— he snickers once he does.
“Just relax and leave it all up to me, alright?”
You press your head deep down the pillow to his words and feel how he’s sliding your panties down. He leaves a trail of deep, rousingly red love-bites that feel like San is drawing the curvature of his lips into you as if you were his canvas— and in many ways, you are— and as he sucks, your mind becomes heavy in both fatigue and pleasure.
“Alright?”, San repeats himself and you nod, floating in a world that’s drowned in your boyfriend’s love either way. Such a dreamy man…
“Yes, Sannie,” you breathe out, feeling San press his lips into your abdomen, ultimately losing the fight of cuddling him to well-deserved sleep tonight.
“Leave yourself all up to me, love…”
Your lover grins, knowing that you will be kicking your feet and screaming at him in frustration at the end of this night, because oh, Y/N, if you thought your Sannie was just going to eat you out and call it a day, you’re so… wow, so… mistaken— San isn’t between your legs to give you a nice time, he’s here to free him from all the dammed up desire, let it pour down on you in the pattern of deeply red-painted roses, scatter them all over your body for him to admire and adore.
It’s what you deserve, having your legs tremble, having your eyes tear up, voice whirring frailly in the air to finally let you cum, as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot, ignite him until his muscles give into the heat and melt into your embrace. But until then… It’s a long time coming, sunshine. Haha.
awwww bro babes i already talked to you abt your reblog but here's me showing appreciation again !!! because HELLOOO omg so many kind words....WHWHWHWHWH.
giggling, screaming, giggling, crying: REAL
red hot chilli san pepper. wanna take the crunchiest bite fr fr.
i AM planning to make him a series so dig your grave babes~ xoxo (what i def want to write is a post!concert high sex oneshot for sure lol) i'll revive you when the time comes.^^
AND UGHGHGH don't feed my ego saying only i can make you feel this way PLEASEEE!!!!!!!!
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.
You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…
“You feel like you're mine."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo
[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]
OH, OH, OH, AUGH!
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.
And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.
Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.
So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.
Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.
San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
Oh, mamma…
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.
… mia.
San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.
It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.
You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.
San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?
No, you dummy.
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.
Silence.
It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…
“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.
“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.
“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”
“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)
If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.
“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”
You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.
Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.
After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”
You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.
“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.
Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”
“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.
Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.
His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.
Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.
After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.
Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.
“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.
He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.
“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”
Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.
“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”
You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.
“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.
You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”
“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:
“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”
Ayayay…
“How is this, Y/N?”
“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.
“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”
You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.
“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”
You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.
“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”
“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”
“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.
“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.
“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.
“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”
“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”
San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.
“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.
“N- no, I-I mean–”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.
“Yes, good… v-very.”
“More?”
“Yes, yes, more.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”
“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”
A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”
It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”
“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”
“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”
San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.
“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”
“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”
“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”
“Fuuck…”
Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”
San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.
“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”
“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.
“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”
“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”
Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.
“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”
“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”
“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”
Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”
“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”
You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.
“... So worth though, fuck.”
A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.
“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”
“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”
“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.
“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”
“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”
“Thaaaat’s it…”
You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.
“Good girl…”
“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.
“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.
“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.
“I wanna see you, Sannie...”
“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.
You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.
“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.
“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.
There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.
“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.
“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”
“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”
“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.
“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”
“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.
“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.
“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”
San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.
You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.
“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”
You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.
San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.
Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.
“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”
He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”
San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.
“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.
“Y- yes, please.”
“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”
You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.
“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”
Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.
“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”
San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.
His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.
“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”
“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”
“Hm?”
“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”
You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.
“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”
“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.
“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”
Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.
“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”
When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”
“Yeah. I want you so much.”
You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.
A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.
“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”
Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask
'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"
related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here
ever since you told me you about drummer san i’ve been actually foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal bc that concept alone is just hhhhhhhnnn but if my choy’s writing it? you better call the funeral home or bring me back to life bc it’s over for me and now that i can actually sit down and savor this — oh boyyyyy >< (i’m actually so excited rn but i’m really gonna (at least try) to make myself take my timeee hehe)
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
i just … started and i’m already squeezing my legs together like why is he so HOTTTTT GODDD i’m actually not going to make it through this without losing it so yeah i’m about to speed run insanity rn <3 so worth it tho
his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
he’s – he’s so sweaty and hot and HRHSHSH RHE VEINNN (at first i was like omg that’s my shit right thereee and then i remembered our little convo about it and my one contribution fhdhd and you added it in pls i cri ;;)
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly.
can he stoppp >///< it just started but hhhrff the tension and the anticipation of what’s about to come ohmylorddddd
and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head.
this legit made me start drooling on command but so has every other me paragraph i’ve read ughhh you got me like pavlov’s dog rn
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
i feel like …. i’m about to cream myself fhdjdh like what the fuck he’s so - that’s so - *eye twitches*
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
UMM JESUS CHRIST ???? WHRHHSH PLEASEEE I CANTT like i’m barely halfway through this and i’m sooo so dizzy please send help ;;;;;;
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
*blink blink* this …. did things to me ….
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
this is poetry — just pure delicious poetry that i’m eating up nom nom nom seconds pleaseee <33
ever since you told me you about drummer san i’ve been actually foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal bc that concept alone is just hhhhhhhnnn but if my choy’s writing it?
foaming...... rabid animal........ your choy...........
well you've been great help to my writing process ever since i first mentioned drummer!sannie because to be honest the man wasn't this cunty since we first talked about him together...... lol.
he’s – he’s so sweaty and hot and HRHSHSH RHE VEINNN (at first i was like omg that’s my shit right thereee and then i remembered our little convo about it and my one contribution fhdhd and you added it in pls i cri ;;)
YEAH!!!!!!!!!! that was your shit and it is still your shit right hereeeee !!!!!!! lol and yes. the vein. so important. i had to add it immediately. bulgy vein. bulgy cawk.
can he stoppp >///< it just started but hhhrff the tension and the anticipation of what’s about to come ohmylorddddd
your reactions are so CUTEEEE help omg.
this legit made me start drooling on command but so has every other me paragraph i’ve read ughhh you got me like pavlov’s dog rn
PAVLOVS DOGGGGGG my puppy fr.
this is poetry — just pure delicious poetry that i’m eating up nom nom nom seconds pleaseee <33
POETRYYYY that's so kind thank you so much lyssie;;,<33
a SMOKE HELPWHWHW. you flatter me too muuuchhhhh!!!!! writing genius.. i'll offer you all you want lyssie......~
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.
You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…
“You feel like you're mine."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo
[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]
OH, OH, OH, AUGH!
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.
And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.
Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.
So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.
Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.
San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
Oh, mamma…
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.
… mia.
San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.
It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.
You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.
San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?
No, you dummy.
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.
Silence.
It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…
“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.
“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.
“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”
“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)
If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.
“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”
You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.
Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.
After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”
You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.
“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.
Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”
“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.
Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.
His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.
Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.
After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.
Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.
“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.
He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.
“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”
Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.
“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”
You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.
“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.
You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”
“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:
“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”
Ayayay…
“How is this, Y/N?”
“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.
“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”
You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.
“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”
You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.
“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”
“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”
“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.
“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.
“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.
“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”
“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”
San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.
“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.
“N- no, I-I mean–”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.
“Yes, good… v-very.”
“More?”
“Yes, yes, more.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”
“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”
A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”
It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”
“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”
“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”
San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.
“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”
“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”
“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”
“Fuuck…”
Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”
San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.
“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”
“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.
“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”
“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”
Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.
“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”
“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”
“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”
Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”
“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”
You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.
“... So worth though, fuck.”
A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.
“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”
“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”
“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.
“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”
“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”
“Thaaaat’s it…”
You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.
“Good girl…”
“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.
“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.
“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.
“I wanna see you, Sannie...”
“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.
You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.
“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.
“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.
There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.
“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.
“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”
“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”
“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.
“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”
“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.
“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.
“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”
San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.
You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.
“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”
You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.
San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.
Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.
“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”
He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”
San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.
“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.
“Y- yes, please.”
“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”
You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.
“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”
Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.
“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”
San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.
His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.
“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”
“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”
“Hm?”
“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”
You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.
“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”
“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.
“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”
Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.
“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”
When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”
“Yeah. I want you so much.”
You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.
A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.
“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”
Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask
'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"
related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here
a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot
"Why did you stop? Where are we?"
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.
"Still needy, bestie?"
[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k
spotify link | series masterlist link
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational
masterlist link | join my taglist
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33
always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!
He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.
Right now, right now
Could I tell you right now?
His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.
아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니?
아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어
(Are you still awake? ;
How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)
Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.
What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night.
가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어
I know 다 안다고
(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)
But maybe being sober was the worst part.
He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.
“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”
“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”
The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”
And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.
내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도
(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)
Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”
“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.
There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.
… Shouldn’t have done, that is.
Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night
The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.
He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.
It was extremely dangerous, all of it.
Who cares, who cares
The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.
Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.
친구 사이 친구 사이 alright
(Just friends, just friends alright)
So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.
친구 사이 친구 사이 alright
(Just friends, just friends alright)
He couldn’t take it anymore– not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.
“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.
“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.
“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.
“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm~”
Who cares, who cares
What would you have done in his position?
That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?
He will never know the answer.
도망가 도망가 너와 난
(Escape, escape, you and I)
Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.
With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.
“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.
“Still needy, bestie?”
Who cares, who cares
God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.
Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.
“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.
Till we die, till we die
“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.
It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.
Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도
(Oh, even if this means our end)
Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.
그럴지라도
(Even if)
The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.
His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.
Would you remember me?
“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated.
Nah, nah, I'm just…
“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.
Alright 틀린 선택일지라도
(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)
“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?”
“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”
And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better.
With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.
Alright 결국 후회할지라도
(Alright, even if we regret it after)
It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.
“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”
But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.
Oh baby
Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby
(Oh baby
Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)
Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.
“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”
“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.
Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang!
(Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)
He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.
Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.
Right now, right now
Where you at right now
Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him.
Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.
“I love you, Woo…”
Where am I right now
Girl
He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.
I want, want you to know
Babe I want you to know
“I love you too, Y/N.”
How much I love you
How much I need you
But Wooyoung doesn’t stop.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.
How much I love you
How much I need you
Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.
How much I love you
How much I need you
It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word.
Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester.
Fucking heartbreaker.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”
He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.
How much I love you
Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.
It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.
How much I need you
Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.
you know I read this while half-asleep this morning, and rereading this rn.......the angst hit just as hard tbh.
“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”
he's such a bitch, and i can actually hear this coming from him oh god
he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.
foaming at the mouth choy holy shit,, this whole scene has me-
“Still needy, bestie?”
“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,”
ISEBGISEBKJSENBKSNE???????$#$ LBKNSKJ
you're right. this line is fucking insane.
His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.
NO- *head in hands*
.................I can't do this rn. he......he's getting off to the memory...............I'm a mess
whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated.
reader is so real for that ><;
With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.
the hope this must've given him.... he's mentioned wanting to experience these things with her, even if they were to happen only once. but I feel like finally getting what he wanted, and realising that it would never happen again is so much worse than going without it. the way her features contort, how her skin feels, what she sound like—not knowing about all of that is possibly the universe's way of having mercy on him, because the pain that comes with letting go of them is far worse than living with unrequited feelings.
“make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,”
heh
But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.
but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.
people are so fucking DUMB and want to make me MAD- bitch he rocked your shit in his car on the side of a highway why the FUCK are you back with that dumb cunt
so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.
giggling
“I love you, Woo…”
He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
not giggling.
desperately wanting it to be true and knowing it's not,, :/
Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”
I'd say it's an unconscious way of protecting himself. he knows he'll never get what he wants, so drawing back is the one thing he can do to prevent yet another heartbreak.
A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.
I'm at a loss for words. when you can feel your heart shattering in someone's presence, but can't bear the thought of not having them by your side. it creates this bond that needs to be broken if either party wants to find happiness. it's suffocating, toxic, and takes a lot of courage to let go of.
Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.
if only we could control that, huh?
choy this was so beautiful...I already mentioned this but the one-sided love, the naivety of the other person, the lack of communication (perhaps out of fear of losing the other?), it's all portrayed so well. this is all so so real, which makes it even more heartbreaking. thank you so much for supplying us with this poetic masterpiece;; idk if I'm meant to jerk off or cry anymore.... (￣ω￣;)
nora bug omg !!! i already talked to you in priv but i still wanted to add some insight and show appreciation to your reblog <33
he's such a bitch, and i can actually hear this coming from him oh god
REAL. he's a bitch he's my bitch, my bitchboy, he's my little bitchy bitchb-
NO- *head in hands*
.................I can't do this rn. he......he's getting off to the memory...............I'm a mess
tbh!!!!!! i thought it would be so awkward to have like.... two parallel sex scenes? like not sex but just two things happen at once but i hope i could do it semi-elegantly??
the hope this must've given him.... he's mentioned wanting to experience these things with her, even if they were to happen only once. but I feel like finally getting what he wanted, and realising that it would never happen again is so much worse than going without it.
yeahhhhhhhh this. it was definitely not planned for it to be a main theme for this fic, but yeah- the conflict between the wooyoung's two biggest wishes, wanting to love reader but love her more than she allows him to— mmmm. angsty.
the way her features contort, how her skin feels, what she sound like—not knowing about all of that is possibly the universe's way of having mercy on him, because the pain that comes with letting go of them is far worse than living with unrequited feelings.
and damn i already copy pasted this to you but like i'll say it again. damn. maybe you should write a fic like that cuz this is pure poetry daammnnn
heh
LMAOOOOO and then this. you lil cutiepie. pls.
people are so fucking DUMB and want to make me MAD- bitch he rocked your shit in his car on the side of a highway why the FUCK are you back with that dumb cunt
PLEASE SO ANGRYYYY
but yeah lol usually i tend to write a #relatable and #forgivable reader but while i do think reader has all ... the reasons she's still a dummy dumb lol <33 i think this is a fic for the people who relate to wooyo more than they are someone's best friend??? maybe.
giggling
“I love you, Woo…” He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it. “I love you too, Y/N.”
not giggling.
PHWHWHH i chortled that one was so funny pls!!!!!!!!!!
I'd say it's an unconscious way of protecting himself. he knows he'll never get what he wants, so drawing back is the one thing he can do to prevent yet another heartbreak.
yeth. that's all i gotta say. just instincts, being unused to what he just got to experience, ultimately pulling away because might have been overwhelmed by his own feelings? i don't know him that well tho so- ask him lol
I'm at a loss for words. when you can feel your heart shattering in someone's presence, but can't bear the thought of not having them by your side. it creates this bond that needs to be broken if either party wants to find happiness. it's suffocating, toxic, and takes a lot of courage to let go of.
while actions can do a lot, words usually settle the reality and wooyoung misspoke, and whatever he does now will only further make him travel down the past the road of only being best friends, if he doesn't decide to cut the ties, especially if what he's longing for isn't a dream scenario, but a memory, y'know
the last sentence was at least so so real, it is rlly toxic and in or getting out of it hurts, there's no way around the pain of it all;;
choy this was so beautiful...I already mentioned this but the one-sided love, the naivety of the other person, the lack of communication (perhaps out of fear of losing the other?), it's all portrayed so well. this is all so so real, which makes it even more heartbreaking. thank you so much for supplying us with this poetic masterpiece;; idk if I'm meant to jerk off or cry anymore.... (￣ω￣;)
i think it's why i used the tag "sexual tension", because being best friends usually should lighten the mood, and it would've, if wooyoung hadn't been trampled by his deepest desires which, ... yeah, is love, but a very specific kind thereof.
and POETIC MASTERPIECE pleaseeee ohhhh bug, i thank you so much;;;!! it means a lot lot lot to me nora, from the bottom of my heart <33
the fattest juiciest kiss on my 'pretty' brain??? well yh sign me tf up !!!!!!! lol don't feat on this fic, feast on me too yk !!!!!!!!!
a one-sided (best) friends with benefits!wooyoung one-shot
"Why did you stop? Where are we?"
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.
"Still needy, bestie?"
[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k
spotify link | series masterlist link
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational
masterlist link | join my taglist
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33
always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!
He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.
Right now, right now
Could I tell you right now?
His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.
아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니?
아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어
(Are you still awake? ;
How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)
Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.
What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night.
가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어
I know 다 안다고
(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)
But maybe being sober was the worst part.
He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.
“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”
“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”
The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”
And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.
내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도
(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)
Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”
“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.
There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.
… Shouldn’t have done, that is.
Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night
The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.
He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.
It was extremely dangerous, all of it.
Who cares, who cares
The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.
Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.
친구 사이 친구 사이 alright
(Just friends, just friends alright)
So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.
친구 사이 친구 사이 alright
(Just friends, just friends alright)
He couldn’t take it anymore– not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.
“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.
“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.
“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.
“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm~”
Who cares, who cares
What would you have done in his position?
That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?
He will never know the answer.
도망가 도망가 너와 난
(Escape, escape, you and I)
Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.
With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.
“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.
“Still needy, bestie?”
Who cares, who cares
God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.
Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.
“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.
Till we die, till we die
“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.
It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.
Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도
(Oh, even if this means our end)
Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.
그럴지라도
(Even if)
The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.
His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.
Would you remember me?
“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated.
Nah, nah, I'm just…
“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.
Alright 틀린 선택일지라도
(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)
“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?”
“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”
And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better.
With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.
Alright 결국 후회할지라도
(Alright, even if we regret it after)
It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch.
“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”
But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.
Oh baby
Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby
(Oh baby
Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)
Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.
“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”
“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.
Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang!
(Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)
He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.
Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.
Right now, right now
Where you at right now
Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him.
Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it?
“I love you, Woo…”
Where am I right now
Girl
He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.
I want, want you to know
Babe I want you to know
“I love you too, Y/N.”
How much I love you
How much I need you
But Wooyoung doesn’t stop.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.
How much I love you
How much I need you
Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.
How much I love you
How much I need you
It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word.
Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester.
Fucking heartbreaker.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”
He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired.
How much I love you
Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.
It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.
How much I need you
Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.
cannot stop thinking about possessive san taking the time to body worship you and make sure you know every single inch of your body is beautiful, loved, and only His. he doesn’t care how impatient you are or what you need — in that moment all he’s devoted to is making sure every piece of his love’s body is adored and tended to. possessive san spelling his name on your clit with his tongue, possessive san spelling his name on your neck with his tongue before he bites and sucks as he leaves hickies, just… possessive, devoted san .
FOR YOU(R) LOVE | choi san x fem!reader
a possessive!san hard thought and sequel to: "𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄)"
"Leave yourself all up to me, love."
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : All of his desire is directed towards you, but sometimes, preferably all the time— San just wants you all for himself.
"All up to my love..."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : hard thought, fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 1.2k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : possessive boyfriend!san, tired girlfriend!reader, hickeys, love-bites, implied cunnilingus & orgasm denial; san wants reader bad and won’t hesitate to be bad
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : okay babes first of all thank you for being my first ever hard hour entry !!! i really appreciate you sharing your (god damn scorching hot) thoughts!! second, because i am not over the "intimate, sexy, tender" yet and probably never will be, here's my gift to you that i started writing as soon as i saw it because i wanted to do something for you!!! xx
this is also an invitation for all of yall to share your hard thoughts with me so i can make a thing out of this lol!!! like come awnnnn "choy hardly thinks" is so funny is it not??? like pls entertain me. hard or soft. i'll be there for you !!!! <33 anyway, always grateful for likes, reblogs, comments and all kinds of feedback xoxo
masterlist link | join my taglist
“Mmm, do you know what, sun?”, San murmurs, finally finished drying his wet hair with a towel from across the room, as you cuddle yourself deeper into the blanket side-ways, preparing to finally get some refreshing sleep, after you spent so much time in that putrid practice room.
“What do I know…”
San throws the soaked towel on the clothing rack and then continues to throw his heavy body against your back, immediately enveloping your physique with his arms, one over and one under your waist, to push his face into the nook of your neck. Through his nose, San breathes in the scent of your shampoo, and inhales the sweetness of your skin, as he plants soft kisses onto it.
“I really like how my name sounds out of your mouth.”
“Yeah?”, you whirr, smiling delicately, getting your fingers tangled up in San’s red strands over your shoulder, not yet realizing that two hours after your last carnal embrace, or not even twenty minutes after you jacked him off in the shower, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you, no, could never be satiated, always preparing to make more place for you in his throbbing heart, especially fill his mind with your voice. “You like it when I call you by your name, Sannie?”
“Mhm,” he hums, and it should have been at this moment you notice how greedy his hand is slowly disappearing below the oversized shirt he gave you to sleep in– little to your knowledge that your boyfriend just wants your scent on his clothing– and catch on the fact you are enamoring San by your mere existence.
“It sounds so pretty,” he lisps, his lips pressed against your shoulder, as he gently pushes you over on your back, “it would feel so pretty, too, sunshine…”
“We’re feeling a lot tonight, aren’t we, Sannie?”, you mumble, slowly feeling your body melt around San’s heated arm securing itself over your waist, his hands slithering down your abdomen, thumb catching every inch of skin to brush over.
San doesn’t answer at first, lets his fingers playing with the seam of your panties and gently groping your breast talk for themselves.
“Sannie,” you sigh out, but your lover has already made up his mind, or at least let his mind run freely.
“Your skin is always extra soft when we’re done showering,” San tries to explain himself, his voice thickening warmly against your neck, and you have to suppress a whine at his fingertips simultaneously finding your clothed cunt and nipple. “Makes me want to touch it, you know…”
“I know, Sannie, I know,” you utter, but your boyfriend is already carrying on with his entranced adulation.
“Makes me want to run my hands all over your skin,” and San does so, by cruising around on your torso, gripping each tit with his calloused hands with an eagerness that makes you bite your lip, “and get a taste of how warm I make you,” you can hear the pecks of his kisses land on your jaw, “shit, Y/N, I want you so fucking bad, I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“S- Sannie,” you whisper, as your boyfriend playfully bites into your ear. “How do you still have the energy…”
“Oh, sunny,” San chuckles and grinds his building erection against your ass, emitting a grunt out of him, “for you I always make energy.”
You say, “I c-can see that,” and lie, because your eyes are closed down, nevertheless making you more sensitive to your lover’s touch, digit rotating on your slowly more and more wet panties.
“It was a long week, wasn’t it?”, San asks and nibbles your earlobe.
“Yeah…”
“A long week of not getting to touch my Y/N…”
“Sannie…”
The man in question hums and gets his arms out, tussling himself away from your side pinning his arms over each side of your head. It makes you need to look up to him through your eyelashes and San looks at you, his so lovable girlfriend, with a hunger and greed you don’t know whether you are prepared for or could ever be prepared for.
“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or are you so tired I have to do it for you, sunshine?”, he asks, wearing a friendly smile that you can only weakly scoff about.
“Sannie…” Unaware that you whimpering out his name only gets him riled up even more, you pout. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow…?”
“It’s already tomorrow, sun,” San smirks, getting his hands under your shirt to get it off your body, immediately getting his mouth at your neck, causing you to moan out and roll your head to the side, granting him more access to your skin. “I’ve got to make love to you right now.”
“Sannie…”
“Ohhh, Y/N.”
You whine at him parroting your worn-out tone, while San seems to be working his tongue into your neck until he can feel your precious heart pulsate through your throat, sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory. You already look so pretty, San thinks, but after your boyfriend sees how his marks embellish you, he really wants you to know what he thinks of you— you, his gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing, ravishable, fuck, so fucking perfect girlfriend.
“How do you expect me to close my eyes and sleep when you look like this, Y/N…”
“Sannie, please,” you murmur, but gulp, when he begins to kiss down your torso; the smacks of his lips linger warmly across your body and San can feel how your cunt clenches— he snickers once he does.
“Just relax and leave it all up to me, alright?”
You press your head deep down the pillow to his words and feel how he’s sliding your panties down. He leaves a trail of deep, rousingly red love-bites that feel like San is drawing the curvature of his lips into you as if you were his canvas— and in many ways, you are— and as he sucks, your mind becomes heavy in both fatigue and pleasure.
“Alright?”, San repeats himself and you nod, floating in a world that’s drowned in your boyfriend’s love either way. Such a dreamy man…
“Yes, Sannie,” you breathe out, feeling San press his lips into your abdomen, ultimately losing the fight of cuddling him to well-deserved sleep tonight.
“Leave yourself all up to me, love…”
Your lover grins, knowing that you will be kicking your feet and screaming at him in frustration at the end of this night, because oh, Y/N, if you thought your Sannie was just going to eat you out and call it a day, you’re so… wow, so… mistaken— San isn’t between your legs to give you a nice time, he’s here to free him from all the dammed up desire, let it pour down on you in the pattern of deeply red-painted roses, scatter them all over your body for him to admire and adore.
It’s what you deserve, having your legs tremble, having your eyes tear up, voice whirring frailly in the air to finally let you cum, as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot, ignite him until his muscles give into the heat and melt into your embrace. But until then… It’s a long time coming, sunshine. Haha.
PLEASE these tags are everything to me right now, i really kicked my feet in bed to this omg. like-
p-,.;poetry,...;;,
san with devil horns because this sounds so sinful in the best way possible????? whwhghgh i didn't even know this fic could read like this but i'm so so grateful it can because woaaahhh that's so cool fr.
and HWHWHH it's so funny to me that it seems like you like. passed away whilst writing the last tag because it cuts off LMAOOO!! like the "haha" really did kill you somehow. HHWHWHWH
(i hope you're good and alive and this reblog finds you well bby so i can express my gratitude for your feedback lol xoxo)
cannot stop thinking about possessive san taking the time to body worship you and make sure you know every single inch of your body is beautiful, loved, and only His. he doesn’t care how impatient you are or what you need — in that moment all he’s devoted to is making sure every piece of his love’s body is adored and tended to. possessive san spelling his name on your clit with his tongue, possessive san spelling his name on your neck with his tongue before he bites and sucks as he leaves hickies, just… possessive, devoted san .
FOR YOU(R) LOVE | choi san x fem!reader
a possessive!san hard thought and sequel to: "𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄)"
"Leave yourself all up to me, love."
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : All of his desire is directed towards you, but sometimes, preferably all the time— San just wants you all for himself.
"All up to my love..."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : hard thought, fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 1.2k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : possessive boyfriend!san, tired girlfriend!reader, hickeys, love-bites, implied cunnilingus & orgasm denial; san wants reader bad and won’t hesitate to be bad
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : okay babes first of all thank you for being my first ever hard hour entry !!! i really appreciate you sharing your (god damn scorching hot) thoughts!! second, because i am not over the "intimate, sexy, tender" yet and probably never will be, here's my gift to you that i started writing as soon as i saw it because i wanted to do something for you!!! xx
this is also an invitation for all of yall to share your hard thoughts with me so i can make a thing out of this lol!!! like come awnnnn "choy hardly thinks" is so funny is it not??? like pls entertain me. hard or soft. i'll be there for you !!!! <33 anyway, always grateful for likes, reblogs, comments and all kinds of feedback xoxo
masterlist link | join my taglist
“Mmm, do you know what, sun?”, San murmurs, finally finished drying his wet hair with a towel from across the room, as you cuddle yourself deeper into the blanket side-ways, preparing to finally get some refreshing sleep, after you spent so much time in that putrid practice room.
“What do I know…”
San throws the soaked towel on the clothing rack and then continues to throw his heavy body against your back, immediately enveloping your physique with his arms, one over and one under your waist, to push his face into the nook of your neck. Through his nose, San breathes in the scent of your shampoo, and inhales the sweetness of your skin, as he plants soft kisses onto it.
“I really like how my name sounds out of your mouth.”
“Yeah?”, you whirr, smiling delicately, getting your fingers tangled up in San’s red strands over your shoulder, not yet realizing that two hours after your last carnal embrace, or not even twenty minutes after you jacked him off in the shower, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you, no, could never be satiated, always preparing to make more place for you in his throbbing heart, especially fill his mind with your voice. “You like it when I call you by your name, Sannie?”
“Mhm,” he hums, and it should have been at this moment you notice how greedy his hand is slowly disappearing below the oversized shirt he gave you to sleep in– little to your knowledge that your boyfriend just wants your scent on his clothing– and catch on the fact you are enamoring San by your mere existence.
“It sounds so pretty,” he lisps, his lips pressed against your shoulder, as he gently pushes you over on your back, “it would feel so pretty, too, sunshine…”
“We’re feeling a lot tonight, aren’t we, Sannie?”, you mumble, slowly feeling your body melt around San’s heated arm securing itself over your waist, his hands slithering down your abdomen, thumb catching every inch of skin to brush over.
San doesn’t answer at first, lets his fingers playing with the seam of your panties and gently groping your breast talk for themselves.
“Sannie,” you sigh out, but your lover has already made up his mind, or at least let his mind run freely.
“Your skin is always extra soft when we’re done showering,” San tries to explain himself, his voice thickening warmly against your neck, and you have to suppress a whine at his fingertips simultaneously finding your clothed cunt and nipple. “Makes me want to touch it, you know…”
“I know, Sannie, I know,” you utter, but your boyfriend is already carrying on with his entranced adulation.
“Makes me want to run my hands all over your skin,” and San does so, by cruising around on your torso, gripping each tit with his calloused hands with an eagerness that makes you bite your lip, “and get a taste of how warm I make you,” you can hear the pecks of his kisses land on your jaw, “shit, Y/N, I want you so fucking bad, I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“S- Sannie,” you whisper, as your boyfriend playfully bites into your ear. “How do you still have the energy…”
“Oh, sunny,” San chuckles and grinds his building erection against your ass, emitting a grunt out of him, “for you I always make energy.”
You say, “I c-can see that,” and lie, because your eyes are closed down, nevertheless making you more sensitive to your lover’s touch, digit rotating on your slowly more and more wet panties.
“It was a long week, wasn’t it?”, San asks and nibbles your earlobe.
“Yeah…”
“A long week of not getting to touch my Y/N…”
“Sannie…”
The man in question hums and gets his arms out, tussling himself away from your side pinning his arms over each side of your head. It makes you need to look up to him through your eyelashes and San looks at you, his so lovable girlfriend, with a hunger and greed you don’t know whether you are prepared for or could ever be prepared for.
“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or are you so tired I have to do it for you, sunshine?”, he asks, wearing a friendly smile that you can only weakly scoff about.
“Sannie…” Unaware that you whimpering out his name only gets him riled up even more, you pout. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow…?”
“It’s already tomorrow, sun,” San smirks, getting his hands under your shirt to get it off your body, immediately getting his mouth at your neck, cousin you to moan out and roll your head to the side, granting him more access to your skin. “I’ve got to make love to you right now.”
“Sannie…”
“Ohhh, Y/N.”
You whine at him parroting your worn-out tone, while San seems to be working his tongue into your neck until he can feel your precious heart pulsate through your throat, sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory. You already look so pretty, San thinks, but after your boyfriend sees how his marks embellish you, he really wants you to know what he thinks of you— you, his gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing, ravishable, fuck, so fucking perfect girlfriend.
“How do you expect me to close my eyes and sleep when you look like this, Y/N…”
“Sannie, please,” you murmur, but gulp, when he begins to kiss down your torso; the smacks of his lips linger warmly across your body and San can feel how your cunt clenches— he snickers once he does.
“Just relax and leave it all up to me, alright?”
You press your head deep down the pillow to his words and feel how he’s sliding your panties down. He leaves a trail of deep, rousingly red love-bites that feel like San is drawing the curvature of his lips into you as if you were his canvas— and in many ways, you are— and as he sucks, your mind becomes heavy in both fatigue and pleasure.
“Alright?”, San repeats himself and you nod, floating in a world that’s drowned in your boyfriend’s love either way. Such a dreamy man…
“Yes, Sannie,” you breathe out, feeling San press his lips into your abdomen, ultimately losing the fight of cuddling him to well-deserved sleep tonight.
“Leave yourself all up to me, love…”
Your lover grins, knowing that you will be kicking your feet and screaming at him in frustration at the end of this night, because oh, Y/N, if you thought your Sannie was just going to eat you out and call it a day, you’re so… wow, so… mistaken— San isn’t between your legs to give you a nice time, he’s here to free him from all the dammed up desire, let it pour down on you in the pattern of deeply red-painted roses, scatter them all over your body for him to admire and adore.
It’s what you deserve, having your legs tremble, having your eyes tear up, voice whirring frailly in the air to finally let you cum, as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot, ignite him until his muscles give into the heat and melt into your embrace. But until then… It’s a long time coming, sunshine. Haha.
OMG AJDHSKDJ thank you so much for this gift im gonna cherish it with my LIFE!!
my favorite parts:
“you are enamoring San by your mere existence”
“sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory”
“as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot”
your writing makes me feel so many things; i can’t!! i feel v honored to be your first hard hour entry & you did so well <33 thank you so much love i really appreciate this omg,,, and the title being for you, love AND for your love?? literal masterpiece, GENIUS . i have so many emotions and don’t know how to convey them so — thank you so so so much 💌
ahhh i'm so so happy you enjoyed bby!!!! <33 i really usually am frankly unable to produce drabbles because i tend to go. uh. overboard lol, but with this one i really had the feeling i put my all into it <33
and making readers feel so many things is all i wish for as a writer!!!!! especially if it's amazing readers like you to catch on small details i sprinkle in to feel #smart lol <33 like... ;;masterpiece, genius??? no you flatter me too much babes........
don't be shy and come back into my inbox anytime xoxo
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.
You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…
“You feel like you're mine."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo
[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]
OH, OH, OH, AUGH!
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.
And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.
Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.
So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.
Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.
San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
Oh, mamma…
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.
… mia.
San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.
It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.
You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.
San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?
No, you dummy.
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.
Silence.
It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…
“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.
“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.
“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”
“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)
If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.
“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”
You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.
Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.
After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”
You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.
“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.
Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”
“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.
Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.
His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.
Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.
After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.
Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.
“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.
He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.
“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”
Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.
“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”
You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.
“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.
You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”
“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:
“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”
Ayayay…
“How is this, Y/N?”
“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.
“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”
You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.
“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”
You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.
“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”
“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”
“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.
“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.
“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.
“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”
“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”
San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.
“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.
“N- no, I-I mean–”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.
“Yes, good… v-very.”
“More?”
“Yes, yes, more.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”
“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”
A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”
It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”
“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”
“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”
San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.
“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”
“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”
“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”
“Fuuck…”
Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”
San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.
“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”
“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.
“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”
“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”
Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.
“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”
“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”
“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”
Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”
“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”
You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.
“... So worth though, fuck.”
A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.
“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”
“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”
“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.
“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”
“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”
“Thaaaat’s it…”
You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.
“Good girl…”
“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.
“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.
“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.
“I wanna see you, Sannie...”
“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.
You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.
“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.
“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.
There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.
“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.
“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”
“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”
“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.
“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”
“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.
“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.
“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”
San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.
You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.
“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”
You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.
San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.
Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.
“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”
He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”
San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.
“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.
“Y- yes, please.”
“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”
You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.
“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”
Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.
“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”
San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.
His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.
“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”
“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”
“Hm?”
“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”
You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.
“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”
“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.
“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”
Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.
“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”
When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”
“Yeah. I want you so much.”
You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.
A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.
“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”
Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask
'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"
reblogging this on main bc fkn hell. there's tears flowing between my legs and it's your fault (thank you). I may be a tiny bit biased bc I'm a drummer and San is one of my ult-ults, but your writing is so good.
pleaseeeeeee the pics and the feedback !!! so honoured to be reblogged on your main xoxo ?!?!? (i assume it's an honour)
and yeah as someone who's a san ult as well it's like...... do i make him hot because i love him or do i love him because he's hot......... (both. it is very much both and i'll pop my writer pussy for san any day)
thank you so much for your feedback, i'm so so happy you enjoy my writing babes!! <33
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.
You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo
[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]
OH, OH, OH, AUGH!
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.
And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.
Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.
So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.
Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.
San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
Oh, mamma…
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.
… mia.
San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.
It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.
You could have been lying in bed with him now, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.
San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?
No, you dummy.
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.
Silence.
It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…
“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.
“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.
“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”
“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curved into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)
If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.
“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”
You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.
Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.
After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”
You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.
“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.
Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”
“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.
Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.
His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.
Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.
After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.
Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.
“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.
He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.
“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”
Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.
“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”
You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.
“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.
You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”
“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:
“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”
Ayayay…
“How is this, Y/N?”
“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.
“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”
You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.
“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”
You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.
“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”
“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”
“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.
“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.
“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.
“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”
“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”
San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.
“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.
“N- no, I-I mean–”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.
“Yes, good… v-very.”
“More?”
“Yes, yes, more.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”
“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”
A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”
It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”
“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”
“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”
San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.
“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”
“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”
“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”
“Fuuck…”
Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”
San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.
“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”
“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.
“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”
“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”
Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.
“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”
“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”
“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”
Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”
“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”
You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.
“... So worth though, fuck.”
A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.
“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”
“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”
“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.
“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”
“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”
“Thaaaat’s it…”
You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.
“Good girl…”
“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.
“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.
“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.
“I wanna see you, Sannie...”
“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.
You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.
“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.
“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.
There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.
“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.
“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”
“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”
“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.
“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”
“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.
“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.
“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”
San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.
You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.
“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”
You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.
San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.
Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.
“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”
He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”
San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.
“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.
“Y- yes, please.”
“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”
You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.
“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”
Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.
“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”
San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.
His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.
“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”
“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”
“Hm?”
“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”
You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.
“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”
“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.
“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”
Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.
“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”
When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”
“Yeah. I want you so much.”
You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.
A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.
“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”
Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask
'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"
a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot
“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.
"Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you."
[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k
spotify link | series masterlist link
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational
masterlist link | join my taglist
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33
always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!
He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.
Right now, right now
Could I tell you right now?
His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.
아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니?
아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어
(Are you still awake? ;
How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)
Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.
What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night.
가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어
I know 다 안다고
(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)
But maybe being sober was the worst part.
He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.
“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”
“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”
The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”
And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.
내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도
(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)
Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”
“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.
There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.
… Shouldn’t have done, that is.
Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night
The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.
He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.
It was extremely dangerous, all of it.
Who cares, who cares
The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.
Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.
친구 사이 친구 사이 alright
(Just friends, just friends alright)
So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.
친구 사이 친구 사이 alright
(Just friends, just friends alright)
He couldn’t take it anymore– not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.
“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.
“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.
“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.
“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm~”
Who cares, who cares
What would you have done in his position?
That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?
He will never know the answer.
도망가 도망가 너와 난
(Escape, escape, you and I)
Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.
With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.
“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.
“Still needy, bestie?”
Who cares, who cares
God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.
Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.
“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.
Till we die, till we die
“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.
It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.
Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도
(Oh, even if this means our end)
Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.
그럴지라도
(Even if)
The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.
His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.
Would you remember me?
“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated.
Nah, nah, I'm just…
“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.
Alright 틀린 선택일지라도
(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)
“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?”
“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”
And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better.
With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.
Alright 결국 후회할지라도
(Alright, even if we regret it after)
It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.
“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”
But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.
Oh baby
Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby
(Oh baby
Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)
Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.
“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”
“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.
Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang!
(Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)
He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.
Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.
Right now, right now
Where you at right now
Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him.
Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.
“I love you, Woo…”
Where am I right now
Girl
He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.
I want, want you to know
Babe I want you to know
“I love you too, Y/N.”
How much I love you
How much I need you
But Wooyoung doesn’t stop.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.
How much I love you
How much I need you
Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.
How much I love you
How much I need you
It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word.
Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester.
Fucking heartbreaker.
I want, want you to know
Babe, I want you to know
He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”
He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.
How much I love you
Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.
It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.
How much I need you
Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.
You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo
[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]
OH, OH, OH, AUGH!
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.
And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.
Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.
So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.
Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.
San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
Oh, mamma…
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.
… mia.
San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.
It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.
You could have been lying in bed with him now, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.
San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?
No, you dummy.
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.
Silence.
It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…
“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.
“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.
“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”
“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curved into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)
If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.
“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”
You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.
Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.
After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”
You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.
“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.
Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”
“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.
Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.
His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.
Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.
After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.
Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.
“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.
He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.
“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”
Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.
“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”
You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.
“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.
You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”
“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:
“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”
Ayayay…
“How is this, Y/N?”
“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.
“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”
You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.
“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”
You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.
“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”
“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”
“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.
“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.
“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.
“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”
“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”
San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.
“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.
“N- no, I-I mean–”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.
“Yes, good… v-very.”
“More?”
“Yes, yes, more.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”
“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”
A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”
It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”
“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”
“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”
San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.
“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”
“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”
“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”
“Fuuck…”
Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”
San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.
“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”
“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.
“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”
“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”
Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.
“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”
“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”
“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”
Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”
“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”
You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.
“... So worth though, fuck.”
A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.
“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”
“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”
“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.
“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”
“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”
“Thaaaat’s it…”
You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.
“Good girl…”
“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.
“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.
“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.
“I wanna see you, Sannie...”
“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.
You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.
“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.
“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.
There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.
“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.
“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”
“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”
“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.
“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”
“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.
“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.
“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”
San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.
You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.
“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”
You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.
San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.
Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.
“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”
He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”
San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.
“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.
“Y- yes, please.”
“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”
You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.
“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”
Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.
“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”
San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.
His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.
“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”
“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”
“Hm?”
“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”
You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.
“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”
“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.
“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”
Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.
“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”
When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”
“Yeah. I want you so much.”
You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.
A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.
“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”
Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask
'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"
woahhh i'm so glad you think drummer!san fits the band role because whwhhw i didn't know whether i would be able to like. convey it correctly but i did also listen to a shitton of rock to this sooooo maybe it was worth it YH!!!! thank you for your reblog xoxo
i am opening up my commissions for my edits, i could use the extra cash due to hard times going on. i won't put too much detail out there as i am not too comfortable doing so. i am open to hear all ideas and such, as well as hear possible thoughts and ideas for whatever edit is wanted and if i can do so. feel free to message me and we can talk ideas ❤️ or if you just want to donate to help, i'd forever be appreciative as well. i would appreciate any help or purchase of commission. thank you. ❤️
cannot stop thinking about possessive san taking the time to body worship you and make sure you know every single inch of your body is beautiful, loved, and only His. he doesn’t care how impatient you are or what you need — in that moment all he’s devoted to is making sure every piece of his love’s body is adored and tended to. possessive san spelling his name on your clit with his tongue, possessive san spelling his name on your neck with his tongue before he bites and sucks as he leaves hickies, just… possessive, devoted san .
FOR YOU(R) LOVE | choi san x fem!reader
a possessive!san hard thought and sequel to: "𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄)"
"Leave yourself all up to me, love."
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : All of his desire is directed towards you, but sometimes, preferably all the time— San just wants you all for himself.
"All up to my love..."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : hard thought, fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 1.2k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : possessive boyfriend!san, tired girlfriend!reader, hickeys, love-bites, implied cunnilingus & orgasm denial; san wants reader bad and won’t hesitate to be bad
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : okay babes first of all thank you for being my first ever hard hour entry !!! i really appreciate you sharing your (god damn scorching hot) thoughts!! second, because i am not over the "intimate, sexy, tender" yet and probably never will be, here's my gift to you that i started writing as soon as i saw it because i wanted to do something for you!!! xx
this is also an invitation for all of yall to share your hard thoughts with me so i can make a thing out of this lol!!! like come awnnnn "choy hardly thinks" is so funny is it not??? like pls entertain me. hard or soft. i'll be there for you !!!! <33 anyway, always grateful for likes, reblogs, comments and all kinds of feedback xoxo
masterlist link | join my taglist
“Mmm, do you know what, sun?”, San murmurs, finally finished drying his wet hair with a towel from across the room, as you cuddle yourself deeper into the blanket side-ways, preparing to finally get some refreshing sleep, after you spent so much time in that putrid practice room.
“What do I know…”
San throws the soaked towel on the clothing rack and then continues to throw his heavy body against your back, immediately enveloping your physique with his arms, one over and one under your waist, to push his face into the nook of your neck. Through his nose, San breathes in the scent of your shampoo, and inhales the sweetness of your skin, as he plants soft kisses onto it.
“I really like how my name sounds out of your mouth.”
“Yeah?”, you whirr, smiling delicately, getting your fingers tangled up in San’s red strands over your shoulder, not yet realizing that two hours after your last carnal embrace, or not even twenty minutes after you jacked him off in the shower, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you, no, could never be satiated, always preparing to make more place for you in his throbbing heart, especially fill his mind with your voice. “You like it when I call you by your name, Sannie?”
“Mhm,” he hums, and it should have been at this moment you notice how greedy his hand is slowly disappearing below the oversized shirt he gave you to sleep in– little to your knowledge that your boyfriend just wants your scent on his clothing– and catch on the fact you are enamoring San by your mere existence.
“It sounds so pretty,” he lisps, his lips pressed against your shoulder, as he gently pushes you over on your back, “it would feel so pretty, too, sunshine…”
“We’re feeling a lot tonight, aren’t we, Sannie?”, you mumble, slowly feeling your body melt around San’s heated arm securing itself over your waist, his hands slithering down your abdomen, thumb catching every inch of skin to brush over.
San doesn’t answer at first, lets his fingers playing with the seam of your panties and gently groping your breast talk for themselves.
“Sannie,” you sigh out, but your lover has already made up his mind, or at least let his mind run freely.
“Your skin is always extra soft when we’re done showering,” San tries to explain himself, his voice thickening warmly against your neck, and you have to suppress a whine at his fingertips simultaneously finding your clothed cunt and nipple. “Makes me want to touch it, you know…”
“I know, Sannie, I know,” you utter, but your boyfriend is already carrying on with his entranced adulation.
“Makes me want to run my hands all over your skin,” and San does so, by cruising around on your torso, gripping each tit with his calloused hands with an eagerness that makes you bite your lip, “and get a taste of how warm I make you,” you can hear the pecks of his kisses land on your jaw, “shit, Y/N, I want you so fucking bad, I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“S- Sannie,” you whisper, as your boyfriend playfully bites into your ear. “How do you still have the energy…”
“Oh, sunny,” San chuckles and grinds his building erection against your ass, emitting a grunt out of him, “for you I always make energy.”
You say, “I c-can see that,” and lie, because your eyes are closed down, nevertheless making you more sensitive to your lover’s touch, digit rotating on your slowly more and more wet panties.
“It was a long week, wasn’t it?”, San asks and nibbles your earlobe.
“Yeah…”
“A long week of not getting to touch my Y/N…”
“Sannie…”
The man in question hums and gets his arms out, tussling himself away from your side pinning his arms over each side of your head. It makes you need to look up to him through your eyelashes and San looks at you, his so lovable girlfriend, with a hunger and greed you don’t know whether you are prepared for or could ever be prepared for.
“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or are you so tired I have to do it for you, sunshine?”, he asks, wearing a friendly smile that you can only weakly scoff about.
“Sannie…” Unaware that you whimpering out his name only gets him riled up even more, you pout. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow…?”
“It’s already tomorrow, sun,” San smirks, getting both of his hands under your shirt to pull it over and get it off your body, immediately getting his mouth at your neck, causing you to moan out and roll your head to the side, granting him more access to your skin. “I’ve got to make love to you right now.”
“Sannie…”
“Ohhh, Y/N.”
You whine at him parroting your worn-out tone, while San seems to be working his tongue into your neck until he can feel your precious heart pulsate through your throat, sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory. You already look so pretty, San thinks, but after your boyfriend sees how his marks embellish you, he really wants you to know what he thinks of you— you, his gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing, ravishable, fuck, so fucking perfect girlfriend.
“How do you expect me to close my eyes and sleep when you look like this, Y/N…”
“Sannie, please,” you murmur, but gulp, when he begins to kiss down your torso; the smacks of his lips linger warmly across your body and San can feel how your cunt clenches— he snickers once he does.
“Just relax and leave it all up to me, alright?”
You press your head deep down the pillow to his words and feel how he’s sliding your panties down. He leaves a trail of deep, rousingly red love-bites that feel like San is drawing the curvature of his lips into you as if you were his canvas— and in many ways, you are— and as he sucks, your mind becomes heavy in both fatigue and pleasure.
“Alright?”, San repeats himself and you nod, floating in a world that’s drowned in your boyfriend’s love either way. Such a dreamy man…
“Yes, Sannie,” you breathe out, feeling San press his lips into your abdomen, ultimately losing the fight of cuddling him to well-deserved sleep tonight.
“Leave yourself all up to me, love…”
Your lover grins, knowing that you will be kicking your feet and screaming at him in frustration at the end of this night, because oh, Y/N, if you thought your Sannie was just going to eat you out and call it a day, you’re so… wow, so… mistaken— San isn’t between your legs to give you a nice time, he’s here to free him from all the dammed up desire, let it pour down on you in the pattern of deeply red-painted roses, scatter them all over your body for him to admire and adore.
It’s what you deserve, having your legs tremble, having your eyes tear up, voice whirring frailly in the air to finally let you cum, as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot, ignite him until his muscles give into the heat and melt into your embrace. But until then… It’s a long time coming, sunshine. Haha.
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.
You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo
[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]
OH, OH, OH, AUGH!
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.
And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.
Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.
So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rests in his hand with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.
Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.
San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.
Oh, mamma…
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.
… mia.
San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.
It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.
You could have been lying in bed with him now, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.
San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?
No, you dummy.
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.
Silence.
It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…
“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.
“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.
“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”
“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curved into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)
If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.
“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”
You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your boot- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.
Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.
After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”
You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips and San mirrors it instinctively.
“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.
Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”
“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.
Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.
His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.
Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.
After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.
Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.
“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.
He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.
“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.
“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”
Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.
“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”
You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.
“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.
You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”
“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:
“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”
Ayayay…
“How is this, Y/N?”
“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.
“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”
You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.
“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”
You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.
“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”
“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”
“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.
“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.
“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.
“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”
“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”
San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.
“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.
“N- no, I-I mean–”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.
“Yes, good… v-very.”
“More?”
“Yes, yes, more.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”
“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”
A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”
It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”
“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”
“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”
San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.
“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”
“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”
“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”
“Fuuck…”
Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”
San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.
“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”
“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.
“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”
“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”
Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.
“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”
“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”
“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”
Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”
“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”
You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.
“... So worth though, fuck.”
A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.
“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”
“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.
“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”
“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”
“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.
“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”
“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”
“Thaaaat’s it…”
You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.
“Good girl…”
“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.
“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.
“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.
“I wanna see you, Sannie...”
“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.
You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.
“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.
“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.
There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.
“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.
“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”
“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”
“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.
“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”
“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.
“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.
“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”
San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.
You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.
“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”
You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.
San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.
Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.
“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”
You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.
“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”
He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”
San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.
“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.
“Y- yes, please.”
“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”
You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.
Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.
“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.
“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”
Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.
“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”
San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.
His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.
“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”
“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”
“Hm?”
“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”
You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.
“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”
“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.
“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”
Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.
“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”
When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”
“Yeah. I want you so much.”
You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.
A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.
“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”
Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask
'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"
first of all lemme just say that this was the first ever request i ever made in this app. AND GOSH DID YOU DELIVER DELICIOUSLY. I GOBBLED THIS ONE UP LIKE IT WAS MY LAST MEAL 🤸❤️🔥
—
There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?
THIS ONE. SO HOT. SAN WITH A BLACK EARPHONE?! I GOT SMTHNG IN MIND THAT I WANT HIM TO ABUSE AS WELL-
You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here?
FUCK ITDJSKS HOT HOT HOT THERE IS NO MERCY AND THE BANDANA?!(@SJWK
San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend.
PLSSSS WHAT DO I DO TO TURN THIS INTO REALITY?
“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.
WAIT STOP IM MELTING. SUNSHINE.
“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”
YES INCREDIBLY SMEXY SIR
You didn’t think drummers were that sexy,
PLS I THINK THEYRE THE SEXIEST AND COOLEST AND WHATEVER I LOVE DRUMMERS SM ID GO FERAL
“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”
SHUT JSJSK IM GETTING EM TINGLES
“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.
I LOVE THIS SCENE RIGHT HERE. HIS HOODIE. HANDS ON WAIST. SUNNY.
San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.
CURRENTLY LAUGHING IN DISBELIEF BCOS HES SUCH A TEASE I WANNA THROW A PUNCH THIS MF
San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?
😠😠😠
“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”
FUCKSKAIAISIS I WASNT EXPECTING THE BANDANA TO BE THE BLINDFOLD BUT YEAH JSKKSK OH MAMMA MIA INDEED
“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”
I AM NOTHING BUT A PUDDLE RIGHT NOW
“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”
HEHE?? HEHE?? SIRHJSKSKD
“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.
I OFTEN TRY TO IMAGINE HOW IT WOULD FEEL LIKE SITTING ON HIS LAP AND ALL I CAN COME UP WITH ALL THE TIME IS THAT IT'LL BE SO COZY AND LIKE THE PERFECT SPOT SO JSKSKDJD IDEK WHAT IM SAYING RN
His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”
this is so soft jsjsjs san cat im so sad. THE DIMPLES
“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”
plssss riri bby i hope this is not your last meal because san’s got so much to give you still babygirl!!!!!!!! you thirsting for san and being so angry he’s that hot is so funny to me because that’s the reaction i wanted to get out of you xoxo the tingles and making you horny are just fortunate by-products lol !!!! (or a part of a grand masterplan who knows)
anyway your tags are getting crazier the more crazy you become and i love and live for that LMAO !!! the details were just for you bby. like i hope you know that i did ask you all of your san fave features very subtly for this. LMAO !!!
i adore youuuuuu my riri and i’ll be here for any and every of your sexy thoughts <33
