🤍Michi 🤍she/her 🤍Age:27yo 🤍I have a big weakness for talented good-looking asian men and of course for fanfictions about them <3 🤍Multistan (but mostly Exo, BTS, SKZ, SVT, Ateez, TBZ)
HII👋🏻👋🏻I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH, YOU'RE THE BESTEST AUTHOR EVER!!🌟✨🌟✨
COULD YOU PLEASE WRITE FOR SAN X READER WHEN HE'S SORE AFTER THE CONCERT AND HE GETS A MASSAGE FROM READER AND THEY END UP MAKING OUT🤭❤️🔥❤️🔥
aaah thank you so much! this is so sweet! this fic got...a little bit out of control so its very much on the spicy end of things. spiciest thing I've written in a while so um, MDNI
pairing: san x fem!reader
genre: fluff, MDNI, start of an established relationship, both are awkward and trying not to push boundaries but very much physical attracted to each other, massage leads to other things, making out, dry humping, clit stimulation
“Do you want more popcorn?” San asked quietly, breathe warm against your ear.
You smiled up at him sweetly, cheeks deliciously warm. “Please.”
You almost couldn’t believe you got to see him like this - up close, his back a solid presence behind you and his arm resting respectfully on the clothed part of your waist.
It was a date night, one of the few times you were actually alone in the shared flat, and San seemed intent on making sure you’d want for nothing. He’d looked at you with sad doe eyes when he said, “I wish I could take you out properly.”
You’d reassured him, of course, that you didn’t need to be taken out, that just this was enough. You don’t think he agreed.
San pushed himself off the sofa with a barely suppressed groan. It was the kind laced with discomfort, the kind that he was pretending he wasn’t feeling in his bones. It cut through the affectionate haze that had built around you, drawing your attention entirely.
Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” he was quick to assure but as he moved to the kitchen, you could see the tension in the high line of his shoulders.
“You’re lying,” you pointed out with a frown.
San entered with a new bowl of popcorn and a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t want you to worry,” he said.
“I’ll worry more if you pretend everything’s okay,” you countered. When you stood up, the blanket that had once wrapped around you both slipped to the side, the end slipping to your feet.
You approached him, took the bowl so you could place it to the side and then slipped your hands around his shoulders. Now empty, San’s hands came to your waist, instinctive in the way that they held you steady. You smoothed a hand along the back of his neck. “Tell me what hurts.”
San hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you or purposefully wanted to keep secrets. It was more…embarrassment than anything else. Years of working his body hard left it both strong and weak at times, and he didn’t want you to see that weakness, not yet.
It was still new, you and him. Foolish as it may be, he wanted to keep being steady and capable in your eyes. But the way you were looking at him, concern reflecting back at him under the dim lights, you looked so pretty and open, begging for him to reach to you. He couldn’t refuse.
So he sighed, dropped his head into your shoulder and murmured, “I pulled a muscle in my back during dance practice yesterday.”
“San…”
“Physio said I’m fine,” San quickly added on, “but I’ll be tender for a bit. Just got to rest and take it easy.”
You rolled your lips. “You’re sure?”
“Promise,” San nuzzled his nose into the curve of your neck and flushed in embarrassed glee at the way you shuddered.
“Can I help?” You offered quietly, “maybe…a massage?”
San’s heart lurched in his chest, blood thudding past his ears. The word seemed to echo just to taunt him.
“It’s fine,” his assurance stumbled out of him quickly.
You arched an eyebrow. “Babe, if you’re hurt, I want to help.”
San squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to say yes - god, did he want to say yes. But the idea of your pretty hands touching him, pressing into the curve of his back. Just the thought was enough for his stomach to churn and his body to feel hot.
Your fingers squeezed the back of his neck. “Let me help you babe.”
And with that, he folded. He let you lead him towards his bedroom by the hand, pulled his shirt over his head when you requested and buried his face into his pillow so you wouldn’t see how red his face currently was.
He laid, body tense, each second of waiting seeming to take a lifetime. It was like he was holding his breath and it only released when the heat of your hand pressed against the small of his back.
You kind of regretted pushing this. At the time, it had seemed like a fantastic idea. A massage was something you could do, something that could help your wonderful boyfriend. He did so much for you all the time, and you hated seeing him in pain. You could do this, you reasoned.
But it was different now that San was lying face down on his bed, the muscles in his back pulled taunt, arms tucked under his head. You felt hit with a sudden wave of nervousness, body too hot, mind whirling.
You scolded yourself for letting your thoughts drift to less than savoury places. San was hurt. You were supposed to be helping him, not lusting after him.
It was really hard not to though, when your hand reached out to touch him and his body trembled. You had to bite your lip to suppress the surprised gasp. You were glad that San had his head turned away from you, so he couldn't see how pink you became.
"I'll sit on your legs, okay?" you murmured.
"O-okay," San stammered and you watched his toes curl in his socks as you lowered yourself down on his thighs. They were firm underneath you, strong from years of steady glute workouts. They tensed between yours, and you swallowed around a dry throat.
Innocent thoughts, you told yourself.
You worked the muscles in his back carefully, reading how his body reacted to you. When he relaxed, when he froze, when he was biting back pained groans or relieved sighs. You were hyper focused, couldn't look anywhere else except for the rippling of muscles and flesh beneath you.
San couldn't breathe with the feeling of you above him, your presence a cloud above him and your hands so gentle as they worked him. He tried not to float away, to let his mind wander to how it would feel to have you grasping his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh of his back as he-
You hit a knot in his back and he winced, pained and grateful. You whispered an apology and when you touched him again, you were so careful.
San's heart was beating hard, the blood rushing to his ears and other places that he was determinedly trying not to think about. He couldn't get hard, not now. It was a natural reaction he knew, and of course he was physically attracted to his girlfriend - god did he love calling you that - but your relationship hadn't reached that point yet. You hadn't even had the chance to speak about it. He didn't want to ruin it because he was lost to your touch.
You rolled the ball of your palm into the dip of his lower back. He couldn't stop the moan that escaped him, just like you couldn't stop the sharp inhale you took in response.
"Sorry," San's voice was muffled in his pillow. You watched the muscles in his arms pull and relax as he adjusted. "It...feels good."
A quiet confession in a voice that you'd never heard from San before - edged with roughness that made the space between your legs unbearably warm.
God, you hoped he couldn't feel it, thighs spread over him as you were.
"I'm glad," your voice was squeaky, "I mean, um, it's supposed to feel good."
San could think of all the ways he could make you feel good, all the ways he could make you moan and whimper, all the ways that he'd repay you for the care you are showing him now. He cleared his throat. "Do you want to stop now? We can go back to the movie."
They should stop, he reasoned.
"Do you want me to?" you asked.
No. God no. San swallowed the truth. "You're here as my date, not my masseur," he joked.
"I don't mind," you replied, truth in your words, but moved to stand. You pressed your thighs together, seeking friction and anything else that would get rid of the rising desire within you. It would probably stay, you knew, this lingering sensitive until you could get home and deal with it yourself.
On the bed, San shifted as if to stand before pausing, body frozen. Now that he felt free to move, he could feel it, the pressure of his dick pressing into the mattress. It made pleasure and embarrassment curl itself tight in his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment, counted to 10 and then 10 again.
Above him, your concerned voice said, "Are you okay Sannie?"
God, the way that nickname made things 100% worse. He didn't even try to fight it this time, just lowered himself back to the bed, firmly. "Yep, all good, just give me a moment," he said quickly, "go and sort out the popcorn yeah?"
If you could walk away for a moment, he reasoned, if he didn't have to smell your sweet perfume on the air and get some distance from your hands on him, then he'd be fine. Absolutely fine.
But of course, you didn't do that. Worry creased through you as you asked, "did I hurt you more? Can you not move anymore? I'm so sorry."
San turned his head to look at your distressed face with wide eyes. "No, no, no, I'm not hurt, I promise baby," he said, "I just, um...need a moment."
He squeezed his eyes shut pathetically and felt the heat that burnt its way down his exposed back.
There was something in his voice, in the way he held himself, that made realisation click for you. Your eyes flickered down. You couldn't see anything from this angle, hidden as it was, but now that you knew, you could read it in every movement, every flicker of his fingers.
You'd made him hard.
You had made San hard.
"Oh."
Pleasure swirled in your chest, down your back and settled heavy in your lower stomach. San stumbled over embarrassed apologies, saying he didn't want to make you comfortable and that he normally has better control than this. The words halt when you touch him, fingers splaying across the small of his back, low on his hips. You feel the way he twitched instinctively in to you, and observed when he finally opened his eyes to look at you.
San took in the flush across the bridge of your nose, the slight parting of your plump lips; the way your eyes were darker now, blown wide in your desire. His eyes traveled lower, made notice of the slight raise of your nipples through your sweatshirt, the surety of your touch against him, the tensing of your thighs as you shifted your weight from one leg to another.
Oh.
"Are you..." he didn't know how to finish, but you know what he meant.
You nodded.
San let out a shuddered breath. "Do you want to..."
"Maybe," you admitted. Your fingers brush along the curve above his trousers, and you are delighted in how San reacted to it. Sensitive. Like you.
"We don't have to," San quickly assured.
He was always looking after you, always making sure things were moving at your pace and no one else's. You knew that if you pulled away and walked out of that room, San wouldn't say anything about it. He'd no doubt come out a few minutes later, still cuddle you close, still feed you popcorn, still kiss you sweetly before he calls a driver to take you home. (He'd want to take you himself, drop you to the door like a gentleman, but he knew he can't, so this was the next best thing).
You knew, and that made you confident.
"Sannie," you said. You let your hand trail up the line of his back until your fingers curled around the back of his neck, just touching. You felt his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. "Kiss me please."
San didn't question it again and moved with a speed that surprised himself. He moved to his knees on the bed, close to the edge so that he could wrap his hand around the back of your head and pull you closer. The kiss he gave you was searing, full of heat and want and desperation that you gave right back to him.
You bit down on his bottom lip, sucking on it until San groaned, fingers flexing in your hair as the other curled around your waist to get you closer. The show of strength made your head spin, had you gasping breathlessly into the kiss, giving San the opportunity to lick into you.
It was messy, teeth clanging, noses bumping. Your hands trembled as you touched his shoulders, his back, felt the muscles bunching under you as San urged you closer, onto your knees beside him, and then again, on top of him as he lowered you both to the mattress.
You felt like heaven above him. San couldn't stop himself from slipping his hands under your top, touching the bare skin there for the first time ever. Goosebumps rose as he moved up, fingers under the strap of your bra.
"Can I take it off?" he asked between the rough press of lips but you already nodding, already reaching for the hem of your shirt in your urgency.
You couldn't think clearly, too absorbed in San's touch, in his kisses, in the way that his lips were bruised and his eyes darkened with pleasure when you revealed your bra. It was a simple beige, one that you wore under basically all of your clothes because you hadn't thought that this was going to happen tonight, but still San cursed like you were wearing lingerie just for him.
Burning kisses trailed along your jaw, down the curve of your neck, into the valley of your breasts. Between each, San muttered praises, like he couldn't stop the compliments from tumbling from his parted lips.
"Beautiful," he said, "so beautiful, fuck."
San licked a heart onto the swell of your breast and then sucked a bruise that made you jerk. Your legs tightened around him, hips moving instinctively and San moaned, eyes fluttering closed, wet pants against you.
Beneath you, the hard press of him with deliciously distracting and you were overwhelmed by the urge to make him feel good. Biting your lip, you rolled your hips right over where you knew he wanted you. You felt his dick twitch, felt the way his grip on you tightened, moaned back when he rocked his hips up to meet you.
San said your name, rough, broken, desperate. "If you do that, I'm going to cum."
It was an honest confession and it made you warmer than you'd ever been before. To know that you had such power over this man, lost in his lust for you, was a heady knowledge. You kissed him again, swallowing each of his groans as you rubbed his dick against the inseam of your trousers. It pressed so good against your clit, the kind of pressure that was too much and not enough.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," San's voice was getting higher in pitch. Hands at your waist, he held you where he needed you, fucked his dick up into the clothed heat between your legs. He was lost in the feeling, lost in the way that your eyes rolled back, the way your lips parted in soundless gasps. You looked so good, he thought, a goddess of lust sent here to destroy him.
"Feel good baby?" San murmured, "Do you like knowing I'm going to cum in my pants for you?"
"Yes," you admitted, "God, yes."
San hissed, hips stuttering. He could feel the tightness in the pit of his stomach, tugging insistently at his sanity, at his composure. He was so close, could feel it in the tips of his toes. A part of him wanted to stop it here, to roll you over and make you cum apart. Your pleasure was important, he wanted you to fall apart of him.
But San was well beyond the patience for that.
Later, he promised himself. Later, he'd have you stretched on his fingers and bring you to your peak with his tongue on your clit. He'd feel your thighs shake around his head and make you cum with his name on your tongue.
Now though -
You scratched your hands down his chest, fingernails catching his nipples and San saw white. He came hard with a groan of curses, holding you down so he could ruck up into you through it.
You were open mouthed, delightfully distracted by the flush that broke out across his perspiring skin; about how his mouth opened and eyes closed, an expression of unrestraint. Your body shook, teetering on the edge of your own pleasure, clenching around nothing.
You kissed him again and he let you led the kiss, moving however you wanted him to. "So hot, god," you whispered your praise between each kiss, pressed down against the wet patch on the front of his trousers, made sure to catch your clit on each downward thrust.
"You desperate baby?" San cooed, hands moving beneath your waist band, strong hands grabbing at your arse.
"Please," your voice shook.
"You don't have to beg for me," San promised. His fingers flicked open your jeans, already slipping below your mismatched underwear to spread your lips. He was precise in how he touched your clit, watching your face for any micro changes to know how to touch you just right. "I'll always give you what you want. What you need."
"Sannie." You arched your back, trying to get a better angle. His fingers felt so good, moving with determination even through the slippery mess you had made of yourself.
"What is it baby? What do you need?" he demanded to know.
"Close, I'm close," you shuddered a breath. San's fingernail caught the side of your clit and your legs twitched. "Again. Please, please, right there, right there."
San hushed you with a kiss and you broke. You feel apart, pleasure dosing you, with his hand on your clit and his tongue in your mouth. All you could smell, think, feel was San.
It took a moment for you to come back, ears ringing, nipples tingling with sensitivity as they rubbed on the inside of your bra. It was everything and too much, and when San pulled his hand from you, you could have cried.
San kissed you again, slower, a promise of love and a thank you for all that had been done. You were pliant against him, warm and sweet, followed his direction and sighed contently into his kiss.
"That wasn't what I expected tonight," you muttered your admittance.
San's body shook when he laughed. "Nope, definitely was a surprise." He nuzzled against your cheek, pressed a wet kiss there. "Was so good for me though. Was it good for you?"
You hummed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, letting you bask in the intimacy. You'd get up soon, clean yourselves up and go back to watching the movie you couldn't even remember the name of right now. But now, there was only one thought on your mind.
You rested your chin on San's chest and asked, "So did that help your back, or no?"
2087
discoholicmusic
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
germansingergirl
