#atinyateez

You're so very sorry.

Pairing: Mingi x Fem!Reader Genre: smut. just pure smut. slight fluff at the end, 99% smut. Requested: No w.c. 3.9k Warnings: Everything is consensual - rough sex, dirty talk and more dirty talk, choking/breathplay, deep throating, name calling, degradation, slight talk of somno, Mingi seems like an asshole, sort of noncon but not really, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, reader doesn't talk much during, established relationship If you notice other potentially triggering content please let me know so I can add it. A/N: I...I have no excuses. Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

day 12 #bluesan

“Talk to me, Why don’t you talk to me?”

Summary: It had always been easy loving San from a distance, but whenever the unexpected happened, no one warned you of the consequences that came with secretly loving your best friend.

Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt and comfort

A/n: Here’s then San fic I promised! Soo Jin or Jake next? Both are already in the works so lmk which I should post first ;) also comment to be tagged.

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You lay sprawled out on your living room sofa, your feet repeatedly nudging San’s hands as he continued to focus his full attention onto the game mirrored on your television screen.

In the middle of your coffee table there sat a picture frame of you and San dressed in matching outfits for twin day. The silent memory always reminded you that you in fact do have someone you can always count on.

You had invited over a small group of friends hoping to spend a little time with everyone, San on the other hand wasn’t too worried about hanging out with people he saw almost everyday.

“Bug, I told you I’m not excited to see Mingi.” He groaned.“I hung out with him all day yesterday and he wouldn’t stop talking the entire time.” San muttered, turning his head towards you offering you a playful smile.

You pulled your foot all the way back, softly kicking the remote control out of his hands with a visible smirk on your face.“Don’t do that, you know Mingi always has a lot to say.”

Just then your front door closed shut causing both you and San to stare shockingly at each other. Mingi kicked his shoes off, before walking over to where you and San were sat.

“Bro San you won’t believe what I just heard” Mingi’s voice bounced off the wall,his hands throwing your legs off of the couch, as he hurried to take a seat. You slowly sat up clearing your throat before reaching over and giving him a hug.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, but he couldn’t sit still; his hands gave your back two fast pats before he attempted to free himself from the hug. Whatever he had to say was really causing him to be jittery.

By pulling away, you allowed the two friends to indulge in whatever Mingi desperately needed to share with San; you slipped away to the kitchen where Hongjoong and Wooyoung stood.

“Why would we put chocolate with chips?” Hongjoong groaned, snatching the mini chocolate bars away from Wooyoung. You slid your body in between the two, stealing a handful of chips from the bowl before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Wooyoung slapped Hongjoong’s hand away. “Chocolate can go with chips,right, bug?” Wooyoung’s voice rose with uncertainty, his eyes glancing at you as he waited for an answer. You shrugged your shoulders, placing the chips into your mouth.

After all the snacks were separated, the three of you walked over to the living room.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d actually put yourself out there.” Mingi’s voice rung through the house, as he took a small sip of his water.

Listening carefully to the conversation that was happening right in front of you, you placed down the drinks, while Wooyoung and Hongjoong placed both bowls down in the center of the coffee table.

San’s eyes rolled as he and Mingi began bickering back and forth.

Your body froze, numbness began pulsing through you in thick waves, it took a moment for you to pull yourself together.

Once you snapped out of it, you finished setting down everything neatly on the table. Now, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to be hearing about girls that your friends had been dealing with. You were used to hearing them flaunt and brag about their dates, but you could tell by the way the conversation was going and from the way he smiled that San definitely had some great chemistry with whoever she was.

“I told you not to bring her up.” San smirked, tossing a pillow at Mingi’s head. You felt your chest tighten; an unfamiliar ache pulsing through your throat. You swallowed painfully hard, forcing the thoughts of wanting San away.

The room quieted down, the sound of cushions moving and fabric rustling was the only thing that could be heard, as everyone found comfortable spots on the couch.

You settled for the spot closest to the armrest, placing one of your fluffy white blankets over your body.

“On a serious note, I’m not looking to date right now.” San mumbled, his eyes glancing over at you to see if you’d react to his words.

When realizing that your eyes never left the television, he let out an exaggerated sigh, shuffling over to sit down directly next to you.

Attempting to get himself comfortable, San leaned his head on your shoulder, something he’d do whenever you two were alone.

Usually, the slight touch of San’s body on yours would make your heart flutter, but today was different.

Your mind traced back to the spare key sitting on your night stand, the one that meant you were welcomed in his home any time.

Now, you just sat there wondering if it was even still your place to stop by and drop off dinner.

“Are you paying attention?” San whispered, his hands resting on your shoulder as he softly nudged you.

You cleared your throat, pulling your attention away from the television screen. “San, I’m paying attention.” You muttered, slightly turning your head towards him. “Now stop talking, you’re distracting me.”

Your eyes roll as you notice that teasing smirk form onto San’s face.“Do you really want me to shut up?” He whispers right against your ear causing a chill to rush up your spine.

A frown fell onto your lips as you shove his chest.The action coming off more aggressively and harshly than you intended. The force of your palm causing his body to jolt back.

San’s cocky smirk was long gone, now replaced with a hurt expression. He fixed his posture repositioning himself away from you, his head tilted as his eyes searched yours, completely confused by the sudden change in your mood.

“What did I do to you?” He mutters, his voice cracking as the words roll off his tongue. Every raw emotion that San was feeling ,had been, and would continue to be kept to himself.

You didn’t know it, but San hadn’t seen you as just a bestfriend since the two of you had been in high school. You never noticed how his gaze lingered on you whenever you sat in front of your mirror admiring yourself as he repeatedly urged you to move faster.

And at times, he felt unseen. You were always so fixated on yourself, that you never considered San’s feelings.

There was a joke shared between the group about how impossible it was for San to keep things to himself. But in reality, he was keeping one of his deepest secrets well hidden, and that made everything hurt significantly worse.

You swallowed hard trying to distract yourself from the way San was staring at you.“You didn’t do anything.” You sighed.“Just focus on the movie.”

The more you spoke, the more his heart sank. And from that day on, he knew that nothing would ever be the same.

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It had been two weeks since the last time San had spoken to you. Each day that passed without talking to you caused San’s usual spark to slightly dull.

Dark circles had started to form underneath his eyes, from all of the sleepless nights he had wasted staying up thinking about you.

“You need to loosen up, you’ve been staring at that same sign for ten minutes.” Mingi said, pushing a shot filled with alcohol towards his friend.

San immediately picked up the glass, downing it like it was nothing before slamming it against the wooden bar. Mingi’s eyes widened as he took a seat directly next to his friend.

For a moment silence settled between the two. Distant chatter erupted throughout the room and lately, San hadn’t been a man of many words. Which wasn’t like him, and that worried Mingi.

"Maybe you’re right.” San mumbled, scooting out of his chair before disappearing into the crowd.

Around this time of year, you usually would be inside soaking up the time you had to relax. Since it wasn’t often that you’d get time off from a job that rarely allowed breaks.

Yet somehow, you still ended up in front of one of the most popular bars in town.

Your bestfriend Lena had convinced you that it would be good for you to finally get out of the house and meet some new people, even though all of that was the least of your worries.

You followed behind the taller girl, allowing her to lead you through the overfilled crowd.“I promise once you have a drink, everything will feel better.” She giggled, pulling you directly in front of the bartender.

After receiving the drinks, Lena hurriedly gulped hers down. You playfully rolled your eyes before taking a few small sips of your martini.

You weren’t a heavy drinker and whenever it came to drinking, you’d usually sit out and watch everyone else enjoy themselves.

And as the sour fruit hit your throat, you couldn’t stop the disgusted look from forming onto your face. The stinging that followed behind the bitter taste really took you by surprise.

“You never allow yourself to have fun. Get up!” Lena smiled grabbing your hand while pulling you away from the bar and into the crowd.

Lena had always been the wild type. She went out almost every weekend, occasionally inviting you although she knew you’d never come.

The bass of the music blasted throughout the over crowded bar. You and Lena stood side by side, dancing to the loud bass of the music that played throughout the entire establishment.

It had been a while since you’ve hung out with Lena, the two of you reunited just a few hours ago and already things seemed to be going a little better.

She was the only one who really knew about your feelings for San. She had always sensed the chemistry between you and him, and would occasionally tease you about it.

You were trying your hardest to make the most out of tonight, but it was impossible to ignore the visible ache in your heart. Your eyes began to tear up, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your night by becoming emotional.

You leaned towards your best friend, your head hovering near her ear.“I can’t stop thinking about him.” You whispered loud enough for her to only hear.

Lena’s eyes lit up as she leaned over to whisper back.

“Well, a little birdie told me that San is here right now.” She blurted out, a smirk instantly finding her face as she analyzed your shocked expression.

Your eyes search the crowd, and as your eyes wander over all the unfamiliar faces you began to believe that Lena was just teasing you.

“Lena don’t joke like tha-”

Just as you were about to complain you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You froze in place,that touch felt all too familiar. Your mind started racing as you swallowed hard.

Your eyes landed onto San’s face as you turned around. Just by looking at him you could immediately tell that he was nervous, his jaw was clenched and his shoulders seemed to be more tense than usual.

His hand dropped from your shoulder, and landed onto your hand.“Can we talk?”he pleaded softly, as his hand rested against yours.

“It doesn’t have to be right now, just come to me before you leave.” He muttered, sighing lowly before pulling his hand away.

You wanted to talk now. You couldn’t bear to let him walk away again without knowing how you really felt. You turned to Lena, searching for some sort of reassurance.

And once her head nodded, you knew that she was signaling for you to go.

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San hadn’t let go of your hand as he pushed through the crowd of dancing bodies. His mind was purely focused on getting you out of the bar, he knew how quickly your mood could change whenever you’re anxious.

As you exited the large wooden doors, you began preparing yourself for the uncomfortable conversation that was incoming.

San led you to the passenger side of his car, opened the door and allowed you to get in.

You then watched as he walked over to the drivers side, entering the car with a loud groan before slamming the door shut.

The man’s eyes continued to stare ahead as a sudden stillness filled in the small car. It wasn’t usual for the two of you to be quiet when together, but this time was different.

He slowly turned his head in your direction, almost instantly becoming hyper aware of the way your hand played with the gold ring on your finger, something you did whenever you were nervous.

San cleared his throat, immediately pulling your attention away from the gold jewelry that rested on your finger. Your eyes met his, and a spark fluttered in your chest. Seeing him look all pouty and sad really had an effect on you.

“I don’t like how things ended back at your place.” His voice spoke, slicing through the heavy air of car.“We’ve always been good at communicating, so what’s changed?”

Your eyes shifted from his face to his chest, his breathing had become heavier, and from the way his muscles tightened, you could tell he wasn’t happy with the way you had been acting recently.

For a moment you stayed silent, confessing to your best friend was something you never expected yourself to do.

But in a situation like this, what else was there to do? Let him find some other woman, let them live happily ever after while you lay in bed miserable every night?

Yea, no.

That wasn’t going to work, especially since you deeply cherished the bond you had with San.

“Nothings changed.” You sighed, fixing the way your body was positioned in the seat. You ran a hand over your face, accepting everything that would come after the words of confession leave your mouth.

“San I see you as more than a best friend.” Your voice muttered lowly.

And as badly as you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing the way his face twitched upon hearing you speak.

That uncomfortable silence returned, but this time the air felt a little heavier. You didn’t know he’d react, and it had already taken a lot of courage for you to be so vulnerable.

Internally San was feeling relieved. He had been waiting patiently for you to say how you felt, he knew that his love for you wasn’t unrequited.

Whenever things went wrong you always ran to him, not to mention that you almost always avoided having conversations about relationships.

San’s hand reached over the console, and gently brushed back a piece of your hair. His lips parted but before he could speak, he stopped himself. He was hesitant, but knew that it would get him nowhere.

“I feel the same way bug, I always have.”

You blinked repeatedly, taking a moment to process his words, a soft chuckle left your mouth as you leaned into his touch.“Are you serious?” You uttered out, releasing all of the built up tension that lingered within you.

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, this time allowing your hand to rest softly against his firm chest, that familiar smile returned to your face.

“So you went no contact with me for two weeks, all because you wanted me to confess first?” You spoke up, jokingly rolling your eyes.

San smirked confidently as his eyes fell to where your hand was placed.“I didn’t mean to make you suffer, bug.” He whispered, placing his hand over yours.

“Those were the worst fourteen days of my life, but hearing those words that just left your mouth, definitely makes up for all the time we’ve wasted.”

“You’re ridiculous, San.” You murmured, smiling widely as you lifted yourself out of your seat.

The distance from weeks ago finally came to end once your arms reached over and pulled him in a tight hug. Your hands rubbed gently against his back as he lightly chuckled into your hair.

no nut november series 🥜

where reader and wooyoung are best friends, and he helps her out in ways most bffs don’t.

tw/cw. unprotect sex (don’t). adult content featured, read at own discretion!!!!!

Ateez fake texts

Pairing: bf!yeosang x reader

Warnings: extreme fluff, suggestive, smutty MDNI, language

About: Yeosang’s gf must be an angel 😇

Masterlist

• Pt 2

CW: Explicit smut (18+), consensual rough sex, D/s dynamics, overstimulation, marking (biting/bruising), possessive language, unprotected sex, body fluids, aftercare.

WC ~ 3.8

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The air in the hotel room was thick, heavy with the scent of sweat and raw desperation. Post-concert adrenaline still thrummed through San's veins, and every ounce of that energy was focused entirely on you. His muscular frame pinned you against the mattress, his weight crushing you into the sheets as his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. There was nothing gentle about him in this headspace—he was a man of overwhelming passion, and right now, that passion was about breaking you down until you were nothing but a shaking, sobbing mess of pleasure.

"I want you to feel everything," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rasp that sent shivers down your spine. "I want you so overwhelmed that you can't even remember your own name."

He drove into you with a brutal, rhythmic intensity that left no room for thought. There was no pacing here—only a relentless, raw assault. Every thrust was deep, bottoming out with a heavy thwack of his hips against your ass. He wasn't using a condom; he wanted to feel every ridge of his cock sliding against your walls, and he wanted you to feel the heat of him filling you completely. The bare drag of him inside you was intoxicating, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

His fingers dug into your hips, leaving red marks that mirrored the intensity of his gaze. He wasn't just fucking you—he was claiming you, marking you from the inside out. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy filled the room, obscene and perfect.

"Please... San, please, I can't—" you sobbed, your head tossing from side to side as the pleasure became too much.

"You can," he panted, leaning down to bite your shoulder. His teeth sank in just enough to make you gasp, the sharp sting mixing with the overwhelming pleasure of his cock pounding into you. "Take it. Take all of it."

To ensure you stayed on the edge of a breakdown, San focused on overstimulating you. While he hammered into you, his hand clamped firmly over your clit, his thumb grinding in fast, erratic circles. The combination of the deep, internal friction and the sharp, constant stimulation on your nub was too much. Your breath hitched, turning into high-pitched, broken whimpers as your body trembled beneath him.

"You're so fucking wet," he groaned against your skin, his breath hot on the bite mark he'd just left. "Feel how deep I am? Feel how good I'm fucking you?"

You could only nod frantically, your fingers clutching at the sheets as your walls clenched around him. The pressure was building, coiling tight in your belly, and you knew you were close.

"That's it," he growled, his thrusts becoming even harder, more punishing. "Come for me. Come on my cock."

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, grinding in tight circles that sent you spiraling. Your back arched off the mattress as the orgasm crashed through you, your walls clamping down on his cock as you screamed his name. But he didn't stop—he kept fucking you through it, his hips slamming against yours with relentless force.

"Too much—San, please—" you sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks as the pleasure became almost painful.

"Take it," he repeated, his voice rough with his own approaching release. "Take every fucking inch."

His teeth found your shoulder again, biting down harder this time as he drove into you one final time. You felt his cock twitch inside you, felt the hot rush of his cum filling you up as he groaned against your skin. The sensation pushed you over the edge again, another orgasm ripping through you as your body shook beneath him.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart. San's weight was still pressing you into the mattress, his cock softening inside you as he pressed soft kisses to the bite mark on your shoulder.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance. "You took it so well."

You could only whimper in response, your body completely spent beneath him. The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you knew you'd be feeling the marks he'd left for days.

He stayed there for a moment, both of you trembling. Then he slowly slid out, the wet suctioning sound echoing in the quiet room.

But he didn't let you recover.

San gripped your ankles and shoved your legs up, folding them back until your knees pressed against your chest. The position exposed your trembling, wet entrance and the creamy overflow of his cum leaking from you. He stared at your thighs—thick, soft, flushed deep pink from the friction of his body.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

He moved down, his tongue licking a long, wet stripe, cleaning the overflow of his cum from your weeping pussy. The sensation made you jerk, a desperate cry escaping your lips. Then his mouth closed over your overly sensitive clit in an open-mouthed kiss full of love. Your hips bucked, another sob tearing from your throat.

"San, please—too much—"

He pulled back, moving to your thighs. His mouth spread the mixture of his cum and saliva across your flushed skin, painting you with it. Then he positioned himself, sliding his cock between your thighs, pressing firmly into the crease where they met.

The friction of your thighs acting as a tight, warm sleeve was intoxicating. He grunted, his hips snapping forward as he ground himself against you. The slickness of his cum and your juices acted as lubricant. His hands gripped your calves, pulling you tighter, creating a suffocatingly tight pressure.

"You're so soft," he whispered, his voice shaking. "So fucking perfect."

He continued to fuck your thighs, the raw skin-on-skin contact creating a searing heat. He chased a second peak, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rubbed himself raw against you. His hips snapped forward again and again, his cock sliding between your thighs, the head poking out against your slick folds with each thrust.

You watched him through tear-blurred eyes, his face contorted with pleasure, his muscles straining. He was beautiful like this—unhinged, desperate, using you for his pleasure.

He didn't stop until he was completely spent, his forehead resting against your calf, his chest heaving. A second load of cum splashed across your thighs, hot and thick, mixing with the mess already there.

San's protective nature rushed back in like a tide. He gently unfolded your legs, wincing at the red marks his grip had left on your calves. Then he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you.

He began to kiss the tears from your cheeks, his voice returning to that sweet, devoted tone.

"I've got you," he murmured against your temple. "I've got you, baby. You did so well."

His lips brushed over the bite mark on your shoulder, then the bruises on your hips. Each touch was feather-light now, reverent. His fingers traced patterns on your sides as he held you close.

You nestled deeper into his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow beneath your cheek. The room still smelled of sex and sweat, but wrapped in his arms, you felt safe. Protected. His.

"Stay with me," he murmured into your hair. "Just like this."

You pressed your lips against his collarbone, barely able to form words through your swollen throat. "I love you" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His arms tightened around you, and you felt the rumble of a groan vibrate through his chest. He was still hot against your stomach—his cock, even soft, heavy and warm, resting against your skin. You could feel the dampness of his cum still coating both of you, the slick mess between your bodies a testament to everything he'd done to you.

Then you felt it. The twitch. The subtle thickening of his shaft against your belly.

San's breath hitched. His hips shifted involuntarily, pressing himself harder against your stomach, and you felt him growing—slowly, steadily, his cock filling with heat and weight again.

"I love you so much, baby," he mumbled into your hair, his voice cracking. His hands were shaking as they slid down your back, gripping your waist like he was afraid you'd disappear. "I'm so sorry. You're just—you're too pretty. So good for me. I can't—" He swallowed hard, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "I can't help myself. Fuck, I can't stop. I love you."

He was a mumbling mess, this powerful man reduced to desperate apologies while his body betrayed him completely. His cock was fully hard again, pressing insistently against your stomach, hot and demanding.

Before you could respond, his hands shot to your hips. His fingers dug in with that bruising grip you knew too well, and with one powerful motion, he flipped you over. You landed face-down on the mattress with a gasp, your chest pressed into the tangled sheets, your ass tilted up in a vulnerable, inviting arch.

He didn't go back inside you. Not yet.

Instead, he positioned himself behind you, his heavy heat radiating against your skin. You felt the thick length of his cock slide between your thighs, but this time he pushed further—wedging himself directly between the crease of your ass and the outer lips of your pussy.

The sensation was agonizingly precise. He wasn't filling you, but he was rubbing his thick, slick shaft right against the most sensitive folds of your heat, using the pressure of your own thighs to pin himself against you. Every time he thrust forward, the head of his cock glided over your swollen clit and slid deep into the valley between your cheeks, creating a friction that made your vision blur.

"Look at you," he panted, his voice thick with lust. "Still shaking. Still so wet for me."

He began to grind in a rhythmic, punishing circle, the friction of his cock dragging against your overstimulated nerves sending jolts of electricity straight to your brain. You were already raw, already on the verge of another collapse, and this targeted stimulation was pushing you over the edge. You let out a broken, high-pitched keen, your fingers clawing at the sheets as you tried to push back against him, desperate for the release he was teasing you with.

Then his arm slid under your neck.

San locked you in a firm, possessive headlock, pulling your head back against his shoulder. Your spine arched, your throat and chest exposed, your body pinned completely under his weight. The position made you feel small—utterly owned.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of being trapped, you acted on instinct. You opened your mouth and sank your teeth deep into the hard muscle of his bicep claiming him.

San let out a guttural, strangled groan, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he tightened the headlock, his grip bruising and possessive.

"Yes," he growled into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Mark me. Bite me harder. Let everyone know who I belong to—and exactly who owns me.”

He increased the pace of his grinding, his cock sliding frantically against your slick pussy. The combination of the restraint, the pain he was clearly enjoying, and the relentless friction on your clit sent you spiraling. You bit down harder on his arm, tasting copper on your tongue, your body convulsing in a violent, overstimulated orgasm that ripped through you like a storm.

You sobbed into his arm, your muscles seizing around nothing—around the void where he wasn't quite inside you but was touching every single nerve ending. San continued to grind against you even as you peaked, forcing you to ride the wave of pleasure long after it should have ended, keeping you in a state of pure, raw sensory overload until he finally let out a loud, triumphant shout.

His cock pulsed against you, and hot, thick cum splashed across the backs of your thighs and the crack of your ass, painting you in his seed. He shuddered behind you, his hips jerking through the aftershocks, his arm still locked around your neck.

"Mine," he rasped against your ear. "All fucking mine."

San's arm loosened around your neck, and the moment the pressure released, your entire body crumpled. You collapsed flat against the mattress, face-down, limbs spread in a boneless, defeated sprawl. The sheets were damp beneath your cheek—sweat, tears, the slick evidence of everything he'd done to you. Your lungs burned with every ragged breath, each exhale a shaky, broken sound that barely qualified as breathing anymore.

Behind you, San's weight settled heavy on your thighs. You could feel his ass pressing against the backs of your legs, pinning you down—not with intent this time, but with exhaustion. His chest heaved, deep, gulping breaths that matched your own. The room was silent except for the crude symphony of your shared panting and the wet sound of his cum still dripping between your thighs.

You lay there, face pressed into the sheets, unable to move even if you wanted to. Every nerve ending was fried. Your thighs trembled with tiny, uncontrollable spasms, and your cunt—poor, ruined, overstimulated cunt—was still twitching, clenching around nothing, desperate for something to grip even though it had been pushed far past any reasonable limit.

San's eyes roamed over you from behind, and you could feel his gaze like a physical touch—hot, heavy, and deliberate.

He was looking at his work.

Your ass and the backs of your thighs were painted in thick, white streaks of his cum, the viscous fluid slowly dripping down the crack of your ass and pooling against the sheets beneath you. The skin of your lower back was splattered with it, a chaotic masterpiece of his release. The back of your neck was raw and red from the pressure of his arm, dotted with dark purple splotches where his mouth had sucked and bitten at the sensitive skin. Your thighs were bright, angry red—chafed and flushed from the relentless friction of his hips driving against you.

And your cunt. Your poor, twitching, swollen cunt, glistening with your own slick and his cum, still spasming with aftershocks. The lips were puffy and red, abused and overstimulated, clenching weakly around nothing.

San stared at it. At you. At the mess he'd made of you.

His brain turned to mush.

"Fuck," he breathed, the word barely a whisper. His hand trembled as it reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over the curve of your ass. The touch was feather-soft, a stark contrast to the brutal grip he'd had on you moments ago. His fingertips traced down through the slick mess of cum coating your skin, spreading it slowly, almost reverently, over the reddened flesh.

"You're so pretty," he murmured, his voice thick and dazed. His fingers drifted lower, sliding between your thighs with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. He stroked along your slick, swollen folds—barely touching, just feeling the heat of you, the raw, abused softness of your cunt still twitching under his fingertips.

You whimpered into the sheets, your hips jerking weakly at even that featherlight touch. You were so overstimulated that even the brush of his fingertips sent sparks through your nerves.

"Shh," he soothed, his voice low and hoarse. He didn't stop touching you. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles around your entrance, gathering the mixture of his cum and your slick, spreading it over your puffy, sensitive lips. "Look at you. All fucked out. All mine."

He leaned forward, his heavy body draping over your thighs, and you felt the hot rush of his breath against the back of your neck. His lips brushed over the reddened skin there—not kissing, not biting, just breathing against you. Claiming you with warmth alone.

"So good," he mumbled against your skin, his voice cracking. "So fucking good for me. Took everything I gave you." His fingers continued their slow, gentle exploration of your ruined cunt, stroking through the mess of cum and slick with a possessive tenderness that made your chest ache. "Pretty little thing. All mine. All fucking mine."

You lay there, trembling, tears still leaking from the corners of your eyes into the sheets, your body completely surrendered to his touch. You couldn't move. Couldn't think. Could only lie there and let him admire what he'd done to you.

Your cunt was exposed between your thighs, swollen and slick, twitching helplessly in the aftermath of everything he'd done to you. Each involuntary spasm made your entrance clench around nothing, your walls still contracting from the orgasms he'd ripped from you. The sight of it—your poor, abused little cunt, still fluttering, still responding to him even when you had nothing left to give—made something in his brain short-circuit.

You heard him exhale sharply through his nose. His hips shifted against your thighs, and you felt him twitch. Again. Already.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, his voice thick and strained. His fingers traced the edge of your swollen folds, barely touching, just feeling the heat and the wetness there. "Look at you. Still twitching for me."

You tried to respond, but your throat was raw. All that came out was a broken, breathless sound—half sob, half moan.

San's weight shifted again. His hips pressed down, his cock sliding slowly, deliberately, along the length of your ass. He wasn't hard again—not yet—but he was getting there. The thick, heavy length of him dragged across your marked skin, grinding lazily against the mess of cum and sweat and your own arousal.

He was savoring it. Savoring you.

His hands gripped your hips, thumbs pressing into the bruises already forming there, and he rolled his hips in a slow, deliberate grind. The friction of his cock against your raw, overstimulated body made you gasp, your fingers curling weakly into the sheets.

"Can't stop," he breathed, his voice distant, almost like he was talking to himself. His eyes were fixed on the sight of his cock sliding through the mess between your thighs, watching your cunt twitch and clench with every pass. "Look at this pretty little cunt. Still crying for me. Still so fucking hungry."

His thumb brushed over your entrance, feather-light, and your whole body jolted like you'd been struck.

He groaned behind you, low and deep, his hips never stopping their slow, grinding rhythm.

"I can't—I really, I really can't—" you sobbed, the words breaking apart in your throat. Your fingers clawed weakly at the sheets, body jerking beneath him in uncontrollable spasms. Every nerve ending in your cunt was raw, exposed, screaming. Even the feather-light drag of his cock sliding over your swollen folds was enough to send you convulsing, your back arching off the mattress in a violent shudder that had nothing to do with pleasure anymore—just pure, overwhelming sensation crashing through you like electricity.

San groaned behind you, deep and guttural, watching your body twitch and jerk beneath him. His eyes were glued to your cunt—watching it clench and flutter helplessly around nothing, your slick folds swollen and red, twitching with every involuntary spasm. The sight of you falling apart like this, completely undone by his touch, seemed to edge him on even more. His hips stuttered against you, his cock jumping, dragging through the mess between your thighs.

"I know, baby, I know," he breathed, his voice cracking. And there was something almost desperate in it now—something raw and helpless. "But I can't—I can't help it."

He was feeling it too. The overstimulation. His cock was bright red, angry, the skin stretched tight and flushed dark from overuse. Every vein stood out prominently along the thick shaft, and the head was swollen, almost purple, leaking steadily. It was so sensitive that even the brush of air against it made him hiss through his teeth. Yet it refused to go soft. It kept twitching, filling, hardening against his will—his body betraying him just like yours was betraying you.

With a shaky exhale, San lifted himself off your thighs. The absence of his weight made you whimper, your legs spreading wider, trembling. You heard him move—felt the mattress dip—and then the creak of the headboard as he settled against it, sitting heavy with his back pressed to the wood. His legs stretched out beside your head, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

You turned your head, lifting it on trembling arms. Your face was a complete mess—tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, slobber coating your chin, your eyes glassy and unfocused. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, and then you saw him.

San sat against the headboard, chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths. His face was flushed dark red, sweat dripping down his jaw, his hair plastered to his forehead in wet strands. His body was a sight—his chest and abs heaving with adrenaline, skin flushed red all the way down to his lower stomach, every muscle defined and glistening. His stomach was slick, coated in a messy mix of sweat and cum and your arousal, the wetness smearing across his tensed abs.

And his cock.

You stared at it, unable to look away. It stood proudly against his stomach, thick and heavy, twitching involuntarily every few seconds. The shaft was red and swollen, angry from overuse, the skin stretched tight around the rigid hardness of it. The head was flushed dark, almost purple, plump and leaking. Little beads of pre-cum dripped steadily from the tip, running down the thick length in slow, glistening trails that pooled at the base where his cock met his balls. His balls were heavy, drawn tight, coated in the same slick mess—cum and arousal mixing together and dripping further down to his thighs. His inner thighs were slick with it, the wetness coating his skin, making everything gleam in the low light.

He was a mess. Just like you.

His hand came up to his face, pressing his palm over his eyes for a moment, and you heard him let out a shaky, broken breath.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice raw. "Look at me. Look at what you do to me."

His other hand dropped to his cock, fingers wrapping around the shaft loosely, and he groaned—loud, pained, desperate—at even that minimal contact. His hips jerked upward involuntarily, his cock jumping in his grip, another bead of pre-cum welling up at the tip and spilling over his knuckles.

He was aching. Sensitive. Overstimulated. And still so fucking hard it looked like it hurt.

His eyes opened, finding yours—tear-streaked, ruined, completely wrecked—and something in his gaze darkened. Hungry. Desperate.

Bf!Wooyoung who always likes to get in your way whenever you're trying to do something.

Cooking breakfast? He's stealing little bites of food while sneaking pecks all over your face just to distract you.

"Wooyoung, please!" you laugh, trying to swat his hand away. "I'm trying to make breakfast."

"I can think of something much better for breakfast," he says with a boyish grin, wrapping both arms around your waist from behind.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm."

You shake your head, laughing as he presses another quick kiss to your cheek.

"You're impossible."

"But you still love me."

You roll your eyes before turning around to hug him anyway.

Breakfast is quickly forgotten, the two of you dissolving into a laughing mess in the middle of the kitchen.

Bf!Wooyoung who loves when you trace over his tattoos.

It's late at night. The TV plays quietly in the background, long forgotten. Your head rests on his lap as you gently take his forearm into your hands, slowly tracing over the ink while admiring every intricate detail.

"What's the meaning of this one?" you ask softly.

"You've asked me that before, you know."

"Mhm," you hum with a small smile. "Tell me again."

A quiet scoff leaves his lips before he gently pulls his arm away. Instead, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers before bringing them to his lips. He presses a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

"You're being a tease again," he murmurs against your skin.

He says it like he's annoyed, but when you glance up at him, you catch the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You don't seem too bothered."

"I'm trying to be."

"But you're failing."

"...Maybe."

His smile only grows as he gives your hand one last squeeze.

Bf!Wooyoung who always has to be touching you.

Whether you're out with friends or just sitting beside each other on the couch, he always finds a way to keep some kind of contact with you.

If you're standing together, his pinky is hooked around yours.If you're walking, his hand finds the small of your back.If you're sitting beside each other, his knee is pressed against yours.

You don't even notice it anymore until one day you move away to grab something.

"...Where are you going?" he asks immediately.

You blink at him.

"The kitchen?"

"Oh."A beat passes before he follows after you anyway.

"What?" You ask once you reach the fridge, looking over your shoulder only to see your boyfriend’s pouty face illuminated by the fridge’s light.

"I missed you."

"I've been gone for three seconds." You reason.

"Longest three seconds of my life."

You laugh, shaking your head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"You're so clingy."

"I'm just making sure you don't get lost." He protested.

"...In our own apartment?"

"You never know."

You swear he was going to be the death of you.