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biaswreckme · 2 months ago

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𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 — 𝑪.𝑺

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut MDNI

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Boyfriend San x fem!reader

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: soft dom!San, lots of praise, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie...I think that's it?

𝑤𝑐: 2.3k

𝐶𝑜𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: everyone thank @vampzity for this lovely idea to write about even though i didnt portray it how i wanted to but its okay🙂‍↕️ (and here you go @strrykais)

𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 "𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔" 𝒃𝒚 𝑲𝒂𝒊... (my library) not proofread!

The soft amber glow of the city lights spilled through the half-open window, draping the room in a warm golden wash. Curtains fluttered gently with the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, traffic murmured—a low hum beneath the intimate quiet of the apartment. The music playing was smooth, sultry, the mellow beat wrapping around the space like silk, perfectly mirroring the heat still lingering in the air.

San stood by the window, one arm propped against the sill, his body swaying slightly in time with the music. The song was familiar, the kind you didn’t just hear but felt, and it painted him in soft shadows and warm light, every line of his body relaxed but alert—like a predator at rest.

His eyes drifted to you, and something shifted in his chest. You were sprawled comfortably across the plush sofa, your head resting lazily against the armrest, legs tucked beneath you in a casual tangle. The throw blanket half-draped over your lap had fallen slightly, revealing bare skin where your shorts had ridden up. You looked so at peace. So soft. So completely his.

San felt the ache again—the same one he always did when he looked at you like this. It was a kind of longing that had nothing to do with distance. It was intimate ache, a fullness that made his chest feel tight and tender at once. You were right there, and still he wanted closer.

You caught him staring. A lazy smile tugged at your lips, your eyes half-lidded with contentment as you extended a hand toward him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, voice low and rough with sleep, but still laced with amusement.

He pushed off the windowsill with a small huff of laughter, walking toward you slowly—like the moment deserved reverence. When he reached the sofa, he didn’t sit. He dropped to his knees in front of you, resting his cheek against your thigh with a sigh, like he’d just come home.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, voice like velvet against your skin. “You look like a dream.”

Your fingers moved to his hair instinctively, nails grazing his scalp in soft, languid strokes. San’s lashes fluttered as he melted into your touch, eyes closing in quiet bliss. The connection was electric in its gentleness—no rush, no urgency, just the hush of devotion.

“You’ve been clingy lately,” you said, teasing, though your voice betrayed your fondness.

San didn’t open his eyes. “Have I?” he whispered. “Or have I just been finally letting myself feel how much I love you?”

The words landed heavy, cutting through the air like a prayer. Your breath caught—his voice didn’t waver, but it was thick with sincerity. San could joke, flirt, tease—but when he meant something, it came out like this. Quiet. Undeniable.

He turned his face and pressed a kiss to your thigh. Then another. Slow, lingering touches like benedictions. You felt each one spark against your skin, warm and reverent. It wasn’t just affection—it was worship.

“You smell like peaches,” he said, low and breathy, lips brushing your skin with each syllable. “Sweet. Addictive.”

“I used that new lotion you like,” you replied, the softness in your voice echoing the warmth in his.

His eyes met yours, dark and glossy beneath his lashes, and there was a flicker of hunger behind the tenderness—like your answer lit something inside him. “You did that for me?”

“I always do things for you.”

That broke him a little. A quiet, affectionate sound left him as he surged up to kiss you—soft and sweet at first, like he was trying not to crush the moment. His lips were warm, moving over yours with practiced gentleness. But it didn’t stay that way. Something inside him gave out, like a dam breaking, and the kiss deepened. His tongue slid past your lips, slow and searching, tasting, savoring.

His hands slid beneath your shirt, palms warm and sure against your skin. He didn’t rush—just explored. The pads of his fingers glided along your sides, up your back, over your ribs—like he was reacquainting himself with every inch of you. His touch was reverent, greedy in its softness. Like no amount of closeness would ever be enough.

Like you were his favorite thing in the world to touch—and tonight, he had all the time in the world.

“Come here,” he murmured, lifting you from the sofa like you weighed nothing. His arms were steady, strong, but his touch was gentle—as if you might shatter if he held you too tightly. He carried you to the bed and laid you down with reverence, hovering above you with worship in his eyes, every movement steeped in quiet awe.

“You sure?” he asked, breath brushing your lips, his voice raw and barely above a whisper.

“I want you,” you breathed. “Always.”

San kissed you like a vow, like each touch of his lips was sealing something sacred between you. He trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, his lips warm and slow against the curve of your neck. When he reached the hollow of your throat, he lingered—sucking a tender mark into your skin, one that throbbed with heat and promise.

His hands moved over you like he was mapping something long lost—rediscovering you in slow, reverent sweeps. Each brush of his fingers left tingling trails in their wake, like your skin was blooming beneath his touch.

He tugged your shirt up and over your head, carefully—almost ceremoniously—discarding it, like it didn’t deserve to touch you anymore. His gaze roamed your body like he was memorizing every curve, every dip. His fingers skimmed down your sides, over the rise of your stomach, then lower, ghosting along the waistband of your underwear.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice rough and low. “So pretty... so fucking perfect.”

He kissed his way down your torso, soft and deliberate. At your navel, he paused, mouthing at the skin with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. His tongue flicked out, teasing, warm, before he looked up at you through his lashes, dark eyes glassy with need.

“Can I taste you?” he asked, voice hushed and reverent. “Please.”

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

San hooked his fingers into your underwear, drawing them down slowly—agonizingly slowly—dragging the soft fabric over your thighs with care like he didn’t want to miss a single second of seeing you. Once they were off, he parted your legs, his hands firm but tender, and knelt between them like he was in prayer.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes fixed between your thighs, pupils blown wide. “You’re dripping, baby. All for me?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. His mouth was on you in the next breath, tongue dragging from your entrance to your clit in one slow, deliberate lick that made your hips jolt. He groaned—deep and low—like the taste of you set something feral alight inside him.

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking softly before flicking his tongue over it again and again with maddening precision. The heat of his mouth, the wet sounds, the rhythm—it made your whole body tremble.

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white, a broken moan tearing from your lips. “San—”

“Hmm?” he hummed against you, the vibration buzzing straight through your core. He pulled back just slightly, breath hot against you. “You taste so sweet. I could stay here all night.”

Then his fingers were slipping inside you—one, then another—curling them just right until he found that spot that made your legs twitch. He set a steady pace, his fingers thrusting deep and slow while his mouth moved in perfect tandem, devouring you with a messy, unrestrained hunger.

Wet sounds filled the room—lewd, slick, sinful—broken only by your soft cries and the groans he let out against you, like he couldn’t get enough.

“San—fuck—please, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he murmured, voice dark and coaxing, mouth brushing your skin. “I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

That did it. You shattered—back arching, a cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. He didn’t stop. His tongue kept moving, fingers still working you through it, pushing you past the peak until your thighs quivered around his head.

Only then did he pull back, lips slick with you, his eyes glassy and dark, drunk on the taste of you.

“You’re shaking,” he said, voice soft, climbing up your body like he couldn’t stand to be far from you.

You barely managed a nod, your limbs weak, vision hazy.

He kissed you, deep and slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. It was intimate—possessive—like he was claiming you all over again.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours, breath ragged. “Need to feel you around me.”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely there. “Please, San. I need you.”

He pushed his pants down with shaky hands, urgency and restraint battling in every movement. His cock was already hard—flush at the tip, veins prominent.

He lined himself up with your entrance, guiding himself in inch by inch, stretching you so slowly it bordered on torture.

“F-fuck,” he gasped, voice caught in his throat. “You’re so tight. So warm. Feels like you were made for me.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, keeping him close as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deep at first, grinding into you with measured intent, dragging gasps from your lips with each roll of his hips.

He watched you the whole time—eyes wide, almost desperate—memorizing every flutter of your lashes, every moan.

“You feel so good,” he panted, his voice breaking. “So good for me, baby. Taking me so well. Fuck—my perfect girl.”

Each thrust struck that sweet spot inside you, building your pleasure until your body was trembling again. He kissed everywhere he could reach—your throat, your collarbones, the swell of your chest—like he needed to taste every inch of you.

One hand slid beneath your thigh, lifting it to angle you just right, and when he drove in deeper, he moaned—a low, broken sound that made your whole body shudder.

“So deep… fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

The pressure coiled again in your belly, fast and overwhelming. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your breath quickening.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, voice cracking. “San, I—”

He reached down, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles that made your vision blur.

“Come with me,” he begged, voice cracking with the weight of it. “Please. I wanna feel you—wanna feel us come together.”

Then his eyes locked with yours, glassy and tender, his voice breaking again.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty when you take me like this.”

That pushed you over the edge. You clenched around him, crying out as your orgasm tore through you, white-hot and dizzying.

San followed with a guttural groan, hips stuttering before he buried himself deep and spilled inside you, holding you so close like he’d never let go.

He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there—deep inside you, breath shallow, his forehead pressed to yours. You were both shaking, hearts pounding in sync, wrapped around each other in the silence after the storm.

San collapsed beside you, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, and before the sheets had even settled around him, he was reaching for you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you into his chest like he needed to feel your heart against his to believe this was real.

His breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling in heavy, shallow waves, but he still leaned in, pressing kiss after kiss to your skin. Your forehead. The bridge of your nose. The corner of your lips. And then your mouth—soft, lingering pecks that spoke of awe and gratitude.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and tender, the kind of whisper meant only for you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly under your eye, gaze flicking over your features with reverent concern.

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath as you buried your face into the curve of his neck. His scent overwhelmed you—clean sweat, soft cologne, and something uniquely him. Your voice was muffled when you spoke, but full of honesty. “That was… everything.”

He laughed, quiet and breathless, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. “You’re everything,” he murmured, like it was the simplest truth in the world. His arm tightened around your back, holding you even closer.

His fingers moved lazily along your spine, sketching invisible patterns into your skin. Hearts. Circles. Random loops. The rhythm was slow and soothing, grounding you both in the weightless calm that followed the storm.

“You always make me feel so loved,” you whispered, barely more than a breath, but it filled the space between you with something soft and sacred.

San shifted just enough to meet your gaze, eyes wide and shining in the dim light. “You are loved,” he said, voice suddenly intense—fierce in the way people speak when they need you to believe them. “So much. I don’t ever want you to forget that.”

You smiled, your lips brushing his collarbone as you tucked your face closer. The warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the way his arms never let up—he made it so easy to believe him.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

San exhaled a soft chuckle, resting his chin against the top of your head. “As long as you want, peach.”

The word slipped out like second nature—his favorite nickname for you, drenched in affection. The room was quiet, the air still thick with heat and the faint scent of sex, mixed with the soft, fruity hint of peach body wash lingering on your skin.

And in the center of it all was San—tender, warm, and wholly yours—cradling you like you were something sacred.

Because to him, you were.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325 @lezleeferguson-120 @psychicyouthfox @pixie-felix @angel-writes-here @galaxy4489 @minniesverse @gncbnahc @ari-hwanggg @alondra6011 @sk1ndx0

#fic rec

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