Hello sanne! I have a request, if it inspires you: what about reader who's been hurt and has amnesia when they wake up. And Jason is there and reader gets all flustered because pretty boy alert!! Pretty boy is speaking gently to them!! And in actuality Jason and reader are together. I hope that made sense 😭 love your writing so so much!!
this is such a sweet request!
jason todd x gn!reader. tw medical setting, reader is on pain meds and has been in an accident, major major fluff, established relationship.
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The first thing you notice is that your mouth tastes... not good.
You try to swallow and clear out the taste. All that happens is a useless smack of your tongue. Your throat is too dry for any swallowing to happen.
"...been out for about twelve hours. Yeah, I've been here the whole time."
You're pretty sure that you know that voice. You're drawing a blank on that voice's name, but you swear you know the voice.
"They're awake. Yeah, bye."
It's deep and warm and soft and yes. You definitely know the voice.
Okay. Opening your eyes.
You do so with substantial effort. Your vision is bleary. All you can make out are blobs of gray. You've got a lot of eye boogies in your eyes. You can feel them.
But you're not really sure about where your hands are at this moment in time, so the eye boogies will have to camp out for a little longer.
"Hey." The bed shifts. That warm voice gets closer. "Hey, hey. Y'thirsty?"
A straw taps your lips. You clumsily take it and drink until it gurgles and there's no more water.
"Yeah, I'll bet you're thirsty. Want more?"
You shake your head. A cool, rough hand pets your forehead. Oh, that's nice. That's very nice. The bedside manner in this hospital is impeccable. A little forward, but you don't mind. The voice and his hand are both very polite.
Time to try to actually see some shit. You hone in on your vision, putting every iota of brainpower into processing what your eyes are telling your brain.
A figure. A man. Huzzah!
Oh. Oh, wow. A very beautiful man. A big, hulking, beautiful man.
He's young, boyishly handsome. His eyes are bright. A scar is etched from the top of his right temple to his lip. There's a white streak in his dark hair. Is that a trend now? You can't remember.
"Where 'm I?" you ask.
"You're in the Batcave. How much do you remember, honey?" the gorgeous, beautiful, dreamboat nurse asks.
Well, you remember being in a car, and then being ejected from that car, and then hot, blinding pain, and then... waking up.
"Car accident?" you manage.
Pretty Nurse nods. Is he a nurse? He looks more like a biker, with his leather jacket and empty holsters. He looks like he could pin you down with one arm and—
Whoa. Chill.
"Yeah, kinda. There was an explosion. You hit your head pretty hard." He strokes the back of your head, frowning. "How do you feel?"
You feel like your head has an anvil tied to it. But it's okay, because look at this biker-nurse! Wowza!
He takes your hand (you have hands! Huzzah!) and strokes your knuckles with his thumb, which is fine, actually, because he has really nice eyes. You want to tell him.
"You h've nice eyes," you say.
Pretty Nurse blinks, looking startled. His cheeks go a little pink. "Oh. Um, thanks, baby. Y'sweet."
Baby? Do you really have that much rizz as a medical patient? You can't imagine how irresistible you must be when you haven't been in an explosion.
But then everything shatters when you look down and see a silver band on his hand. What the shit! He's married? Or engaged, at least. Son of a biscuit.
And he's flirting with you? What a pig!
You snatch your hand back, suddenly sour. Pretty Nurse raises his eyebrows.
"What's a'matter?"
"You have a ring," you say, voice dripping in contempt.
"I—" He looks down. "Uh, well, yeah. I do."
Devastating. "If you're taken, you shouldn't be flirting with me, jerk."
He squints. "Wh—oh. Oh. Huh."
Pretty Biker Nurse looks like you've just said something funny. You don't see what's so funny about infidelity. May God strike him down!
He smiles coyly. "D'you know who I am, sweetheart?"
"Yes," you say, glowering. "Y'just a no-good philanderer who should be ashamed of hi'self. Don't care how handsome you are; I won't enter your web of lies!"
He laughs, bright and sweet. Damn him! You need a different nurse. This one is the epitome of temptation.
"Oh, baby. Oh, you're too cute. Can I take your hand?"
"Not if you're gonna flirt more," you say, lifting your chin. "Dirtbag."
"Your moral code is incredible, honey. Good to know I'll never have anything to worry about, though I never doubted you. Can I show you something, though?"
He lifts your hand and on your finger is a gold band. More delicately shaped than his ring, but similar.
"Oh my God," you say, panic growing. "I'm cheating on my husband."
He laughs louder this time. "Your fiancé, actually. Wedding isn't till August. And no, honeylove. You're not cheatin', 'cause I'm right here."
He leans in and kisses your forehead. Your hackles raise for a moment until... wait...
"You're my fiancé?" you ask, eyes huge.
He smiles shyly. "In the flesh. Y'remember my name?"
You feel like it's a J name. "J..."
"Jason," he says gently. "Yeah, wow. They got you on some pretty strong meds, huh? Leslie said you should start to remember more stuff in a day."
Jason. Pretty Biker Nurse Jason. Holy moly. He's engaged to you? About to marry you?
"You are so pretty," you blurt.
That makes Jason more shy. He smiles like he's done something he's not supposed to do. "Not as pretty as you, honey pie."
"No, you're... I mean, wow. Sorry I called you a jerk. How did I get with you? That's crazy. You're fine as hell."
Jason snorts, wide shoulders shaking. His cheeks are red. "Jesus, you're shameless."
Well, yeah. You're still not sure this isn't a dream. You have to let your fiancé know exactly what you think about him.
You prepare to tell him something smooth and romantic. Something about how kissable he looks.
"Y'look like a sexy biker."
Hm. Not exactly what you had in mind. Your brain feels like a blue raspberry slushie.
Jason grins. "Oh, yeah? That why you been starin' at me? Didn't know you had a thing for bikers. You're terrified of going on my motorcycle."
How does he know that? It's true; you like bikers from afar but you're not about to get on a death machine, thanks.
"You can rev my engine," you say, head slumping against the pillow.
"Oh my God," Jason says, clearly delighted. "Don't think I've ever seen this reaction to pain meds."
"Can't believe we're engaged," you say again. "How'd we even meet?"
"Well, I'm a vigilante of sorts, and the first time we met was after I saved you from a mugging. And then we kinda just... kept running into each other. You bought me coffee without realizing who I was. And we, uh, fell in love. As people do."
"You proposed to me in Spain," you say suddenly, the memory rushing back. "You... you wanted to prove you wouldn't put work above us."
Jason nods, lacing your and his fingers together. "Yeah, that's right. Three weeks in Spain." He pulls out his phone and shows you the lockscreen. It's of you two. Jason has sunglasses on. You're smiling. You can't remember ever smiling like that before.
Tears suddenly spring to your eyes, emotion smacking into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Jason leans in, concerned.
"Baby? Hey, what's wrong? Something hurts?" he asks, inspecting your head.
Your mouth quivers. "You... you love me so much."
Jason stops, tilting his head. "I... uh, yeah. 'Course I do. You're the person I love the most in the world."
That makes you cry, tears running down your cheeks. Jason's eyes widen in alarm.
"Sweetheart? What's—hey, it's okay. Why're y'crying, huh?"
He brushes your tears away with his thumbs, cradling your face. You sniffle.
"I'm s-sorry I called you a dirtbag," you blubber. "Y'not a dirtbag. You love me so much."
"Oh-ho, oh, honey. Baby, you've been unconscious for twelve hours. You're under heavy medication. I know you didn't recognize me, it's okay. Trust me, I've been called far worse," Jason says tenderly.
Dear God, you're a beast. What kind of person doesn't recognize their own fiancé?! You cry harder.
"I should've remembered you! I'm a bad fiancé," you wail.
"Aw, sweetheart. No, no, it's okay. C'mere."
Jason scoots you over slightly and pulls you into his arms. You cry into his shoulder, slobbering all over his sexy biker jacket. He rubs circles on your back.
"You're really cute and nice and I'm glad y'marrying me," you say, muffled in his shoulder.
Jason hums, the sound vibrating through you. "I'm really happy to be marrying you, sweetheart. You rock my world."
You sniff. "Really?"
"Mmhm." Jason kisses the side of your neck. "How 'bout you sleep a little more, hm? I bet you're exhausted."
Now that he mentions it, you do feel pretty worn-out. Especially after crying. And almost getting blown up.
"Will you be here when I wake up?"
"Absolutely, honey. I swear."
Jason eases you onto your back. Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy.
"Sleep, beautiful. I'm right here."
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Cherry.
Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.
Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 2k
Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3
Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.
Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.
You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.
Another rock hits your window.
You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.
"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."
"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.
You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.
"Hi, sugar."
"Hi, Steven."
He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.
"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"
"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."
You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.
"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"
He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.
"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"
You scoff.
"What? That bad?"
"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."
He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.
"I thought tonight was the big night?"
"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."
You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.
"You always deserved so much better than him."
"Thanks, Steve."
"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."
The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.
"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."
"Because they're not good enough for you."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"
"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."
You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.
He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.
"I give up."
"With what?"
"Dating. Fuck it."
He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.
"You've barely even started."
"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."
"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."
"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."
"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."
"And you'll be fighting them off."
"Yes I will."
You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.
"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."
"Hey, some of us do know!"
"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."
"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."
"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."
"No?"
He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.
"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"
"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."
He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.
"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."
You exhale with a shudder.
"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."
"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."
You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.
"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."
He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.
"Steve?" you whisper.
"Yeah?"
"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"
He smiles, big and bright.
"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."
You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
"Well, then what are you waiting for?"
He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.
"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"
"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't usually ask," you tease.
It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.
"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."
You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.
"Kiss me. Please."
Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.
"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.
Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.
"Steve-"
"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."
You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.
"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"
Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.
Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.
You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.
"Babe, if you want to stop..."
"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."
You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.
"I love you too. So much."
You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.
"Let me make you feel good, okay?"
When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.
"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."
He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.
"You want more, pretty baby?"
"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."
He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.
He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.
"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."
"Stevie," you pant. "So close."
"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."
Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.
Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.
"You okay?"
"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."
"Told you the rumours were true."
You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.
He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.
"You replace it, don't you?"
"Hmm?"
"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."
He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.
"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."
You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.
"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."
"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."
"You're welcome."
Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.
The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.
The room is unchanged.
The people in it are not.
read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.
@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson
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TREAT YOU BETTER / C.S
Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!san (ft. Yeonjun of TXT)
Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers
Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), softdom!San, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), fingering, a little rough, san is quite big, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart...), talk about an abusive relationship, emotional vulnerability, aftercare, unprotected sex (if you see anything I haven't put in there, please lmk!)
Word count ◊ 7,2k
Summary ◊ You show up in the middle of the night at San's apartment after your bf Yeonjun broke up with you, but what you do not know is how San is so unconditionally in love with you.
a/n: I portrayed Yeonjun in a certain way here, but don't come for me! I'm a MOA too!
You and San had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up together, sharing secrets and dreams, it was no surprise that you felt entirely at home in his company. San's presence had always been a constant, a comforting backdrop to your life. However, what you hadn't noticed was the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his smile softened when you laughed. He had fallen for you long ago, but he never had the courage to admit it—not to himself, and certainly not to anyone else.
Meanwhile, you had been dating Yeonjun for a few months. At first, everything seemed perfect. He was charming, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted. But as time went on, Yeonjun's true colors began to show. He treated you poorly, his words often harsh and his actions thoughtless. Despite the growing cracks in your relationship, you clung to the hope that things would get better. They never did.
One Friday night, after a particularly brutal argument, Yeonjun broke up with you. His words were cruel, his tone biting, and you were left feeling utterly shattered. Unable to face the emptiness of your apartment, you found yourself standing outside San's door at midnight, your face wet with tears.
You gently knocked at his door and San opened the door, his eyes widening in shock when he saw you. ‘’Y/n? What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just shook your head, tears streaming down your face. He was quick to take you in his arms, enveloping you in a warm hug before guiding you to his couch.
"Talk to me," he urged softly, sitting beside you.
You took a deep breath, struggling to find your voice. "Yeonjun... he broke up with me," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "We had an awful fight. He was so mean.’’
San's eyes darkened with anger. "That bastard. What did he say to you?’’
You shook your head again, not wanting to recount the hurtful words. "It doesn't matter. I just... I couldn't stay there.’’
San clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I want to go over there and beat him up. He has no right to treat you like this.’’
"No, San," you said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "Please don't. It's not worth it. I just need you right now.’’
His expression softened instantly. "Okay. I'm here for you," he promised, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. He stroked your hair gently, whispering soothing words.
"You deserve so much better," he murmured. "Yeonjun is an idiot for letting you go.’’
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "Do you really think so?’’
"I know so," San replied firmly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you.’’
A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pain. "Thank you, San. You're the best friend anyone could ask for.’’
San's heart ached at your words, but he forced a smile. "Anything for you," he said softly. He wished he could tell you how he really felt, how much he loved you, but he didn't want to risk losing your friendship.
San watched as you tried to find comfort on the couch. He hated seeing you like this, so broken and vulnerable. Determined to lift your spirits, even if just a little, he pulled the blanket around you more snugly.
"Hey," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How about we try to take your mind off things for a bit?’’’
You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. ‘’How?’’
San thought for a moment, then smiled. "Remember that time in middle school when we tried to bake a cake for your mom's birthday and ended up setting off the fire alarm?’’
You couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, and the cake was half-burnt, half-raw.’’
"Exactly! And your mom still said it was the best cake she'd ever had because we made it with 'extra love and a dash of chaos,'" San added, grinning.
A small smile played on your lips. "She was always so supportive.’’
San nodded, his eyes twinkling. "She still is. Just like you have so many people who care about you.’’
You sighed, leaning against him. "It's just hard, you know? I really thought Yeonjun was different.’’
"I know," San said, his voice gentle. "But sometimes people aren't who we hope they are. And that’s not your fault.’’ He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. "You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are and treats you with the love and respect you deserve.’’
You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the tension leave your body. "Thanks, Sannie. I don't know what I'd do without you.’’’
He squeezed your shoulder. "You'd do just fine. You're strong, even if you don't always feel like it.’’
For the next hour, San kept talking, sharing funny stories from childhood and moments that made you both laugh until your sides hurt. He reminded you of the time he tried to impress you by jumping off the highest diving board at the pool, only to belly-flop spectacularly. Or the time you both got lost during a school trip and ended up finding a hidden ice cream parlor that became your secret spot.
"Remember when we made that secret handshake?" he asked, his eyes bright with amusement.
You nodded, a real smile breaking through. "We thought we were so cool.’’
"We were cool," he insisted, demonstrating the complex series of claps and snaps you had created. "We still are.’’
You laughed, following along with the handshake. It felt good to laugh, even if just for a moment. San's presence was like a balm to your wounded heart, his affection and kindness wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
The night wore on, and though the pain of Yeonjun's words still lingered, it was dulled by San's unwavering support. He stayed by your side, talking and laughing.
San, ever attentive, noticed how your eyes struggled to stay open.
"You look exhausted," he said softly, his hand still gently rubbing your back. ‘’You wanna stay over? You could take my bed.’’
You nodded, stifling a yawn. "I am, but I don't want to take your bed from you. I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine »
San shook his head, his expression firm. "No way. You need a proper bed to sleep in, and you're not arguing with me on this.’’ You tried to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing you. "I insist. Come on, let's get you settled."
He stood up and offered you his hand, helping you to your feet. You were honestly too tired to argue with him, you knew how stubborn he could be. As you reached his bedroom, he pulled back the covers and motioned for you to enter. You hesitated, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.
"You sure?" you asked, your voice small.
"Positive," he replied firmly. "Now, get in."
You slid into the bed, the soft sheets feeling like a haven after the emotional turmoil of the night. San tucked the blanket around you, his movements gentle and caring.
"Do you need anything else?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "No, this is perfect. Thank you, San."
He nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're welcome. Try to get some rest, okay? I'll be right outside if you need anything."
You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You're really the best, you know that?"
San's smile was soft, his eyes filled with unspoken emotions. "I just want you to be okay. Sleep well."
With that, he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back to the living room, your heart was fluttering. He was just so affectionate and caring.
San settled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. The couch was familiar, a place he'd often crashed after late-night gaming sessions or movie marathons. But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, he was acutely aware of you in his bed, just a room away, and the vulnerability you'd shown him.
San lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, images of you crying and hurt flashed through his mind. He was consumed by a mix of anger and helplessness, hating Yeonjun for what he'd done to you.
He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. His mind was too restless, his heart too full of unresolved emotions. He glanced at the clock—2:30 AM. With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, running a hand through his hair.
In the quiet of the living room, the sudden sound of a notification startled him. He looked over and saw your phone on the coffee table, its screen glowing with a new message. Curiosity and concern got the better of him, and he leaned over to see who it was.
It was a message from Yeonjun.
San's jaw clenched as he read the words on the screen:
[Junnie] I hope you're happy. You always find a way to make everything my fault. Good luck with this one.
San felt a surge of anger so intense it made his hands shake. He couldn't believe the audacity of Yeonjun to send such a cruel message after everything he'd put you through. It took every ounce of self-control not to grab his keys and march over to Yeonjun's place right then and there.
Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew that confronting Yeonjun wouldn't help you right now. You needed him here, not out picking a fight. But he couldn't just ignore the message either. He needed to find a way to protect and shield you from more pain.
He stared at your phone, contemplating whether to wake you up and tell you about the message. But you had finally found some peace, and he didn't want to disturb that. Instead, he decided to keep an eye on your phone for any more messages, ensuring nothing else would upset you tonight.
San stood up, pacing the living room, his mind racing. He needed to focus on something else, anything to keep from stewing in his anger. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it might help him relax. As he waited for the water to boil, he replayed the night's events in his mind.
"Why can't he just leave her alone?" San muttered to himself, pouring the hot water over the tea bag. "Hasn't he done enough damage?"
He took a sip of the tea, its warmth doing little to soothe his frayed nerves. He wished he could do more for you, wished he could take away all the hurt and replace it with happiness. But he knew that healing took time, and all he could do was be there for you every step of the way.
San returned to the couch, setting the tea on the coffee table. He picked up your phone again, staring at Yeonjun's message. Without thinking, he typed out a reply:
[You] She deserves better than you. Leave her alone.
But he didn't send it. He deleted the message, knowing it wasn't his place to intervene directly. Instead, he placed your phone back on the table and sat down, his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.
Lost in thought, he nearly jumped when he heard the soft sound of your footsteps approaching. He turned to see you standing in the doorway, looking small and vulnerable in the dim light.
"Sannie, are you still awake?" you asked quietly, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Yeah, I'm awake," he replied, his heart softening as he looked at you. "What's wrong? Do you need something?"
You hesitated, glancing down at your feet before meeting his eyes. "I... I don't want to be alone right now. Can you... can you come to bed with me?"
San's heart skipped a beat. You and he had shared a bed before, back in the days when sleepovers and movie marathons ended with both of you crashing wherever you could. But this felt different, more intimate. He could feel his emotions bubbling up, threatening to spill over.
He took a deep breath, pushing his feelings aside. This wasn't about him; it was about you needing comfort. "Of course," he said gently. "I'll be right there."
You gave him a small, grateful smile, and he followed you back to the bedroom. The room was filled with a soft, calming silence,.
San watched as you climbed back into bed, settling under the blankets. He hesitated momentarily before joining you, lying down on the other side. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and he turned to face you, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, looking at him with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Yes, thank you. I just... I didn't want to be alone tonight."
"I understand," San said softly. "I'm here for you."
You reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through him, and he squeezed your hand in return.
"Do you remember all those sleepovers we used to have?" you asked, your voice tinged with nostalgia.
San smiled, nodding. "Yeah, of course. We used to stay up all night talking and laughing."
You sighed contentedly. "Those were some of the best times. I always felt so safe with you."
San's heart ached with the weight of his unspoken feelings. "And you still are safe with me. Always."
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the gentle sound of your breathing. San struggled internally, fighting the urge to confess everything he felt. But he knew this wasn't the time. You needed comfort, not complications.
San lay there, the steady rhythm of your breathing filling the room. He tried to calm his racing thoughts, but it was nearly impossible with you so close to him. The familiar warmth of your body pressed against his was something he had experienced countless times before, yet tonight it felt different—intensely different.
Every breath you took, every slight movement you made, seemed to send sparks of awareness through him. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, and it was driving him to distraction. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially now, but he couldn't help it. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was turning him on in a way he hadn't expected.
He tried to shift slightly, hoping to ease the tension in his body, but it only seemed to make things worse. You stirred, tightening your grip on his hand and snuggling closer. San's heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.
"San?" you murmured sleepily, your voice a soft whisper in the darkness.
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.
"Are you okay?" you asked, concern evident even through your drowsiness.
San forced a smile, even though you couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind."
You shifted slightly, your leg brushing against his. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you, too."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know. It's just... it's nothing. Really."
You were quiet for a moment, your fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of his hand. As you drifted back into sleep, San lay there, his body tense and his mind racing. He couldn't understand why he felt so different this time. You had always been affectionate with each other, cuddling during movie nights or sleepovers, but tonight, the feeling was overwhelming.
He tried to distract himself, focusing on the sound of the rain tapping gently against the window, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The way your hair felt against his cheek, the warmth of your breath on his neck, the soft curves of your body nestled against his.
"Get a grip, San," he muttered to himself, trying to push the thoughts away. "This isn't the time."
But the more he tried to ignore it, the more aware he became of every tiny detail. The subtle scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin, the way you fit perfectly against him. It was driving him crazy, and he didn't know how much longer he could take it.
You shifted, turning your back to him. For a brief moment, he thought the change in position might help him regain some control over his tumultuous emotions. But then you moved closer, pressing your back firmly against his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach.
The intimacy of the position made his heart pound. Your body was so close, so warm, and he could feel every curve pressed against him. His mind raced, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady.
You sighed contentedly, snuggling closer. The movement pressed your body even tighter against his, and he felt a surge of heat rush through him. His mind screamed at him to keep it together, but the sensation of your curves against his chest, the softness of your body, was making it incredibly difficult. He could feel himself getting harder and harder.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feel of you in his arms. He thought about the cold night air, the sound of the rain outside, anything to distract himself from the intoxicating closeness. But every time you shifted slightly, it sent another wave of awareness through him.
As you continued to shift and wiggle, seeking a comfortable position, it became increasingly difficult. Each movement pressed your body closer against him, and he could feel every curve, every contour, of your form against his. It was driving him mad.
You shifted again, your back pressing firmly against his chest, your hips moving slightly. San's breath hitched, and despite his best efforts, he felt himself getting harder. He clenched his jaw, trying to will away the arousal, but it was no use. Your absent-minded movements were too much for him to handle.
‘’Y/n, please stop moving,’’ he whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with the effort of keeping control.
You froze, the sudden tension in his voice startling you. Then you felt it—a hard, undeniable pressure against your lower back. Your eyes widened as realization dawned.
"San..." you whispered, turning your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. "Is that...?"
San's face flushed with embarrassment. ‘’Fuck, I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
You could see the discomfort and shame in his eyes, and something inside you shifted. You felt a surge of confidence, an unexpected boldness. You turned fully to face him, your heart pounding. Without saying a word, you reached down and placed your hand over his hardness, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric.
San's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You met his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of determination and desire. "I want this too," you said softly, your hand gently squeezing him through his pants.
San's heart raced, but he hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "You don't have to," he said, his voice strained. "I don't want you to feel pressured or like you owe me anything. Especially not after everything with Yeonjun."
You shook your head, your eyes softening. "San, I want this. I want you."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "But I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. You're vulnerable right now, and I don't want to be another person who hurts you."
You looked at him, your expression serious. "San, you could never hurt me. The real reason Yeonjun and I broke up... it was because of you."
San's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"
You sighed, feeling a weight lift as you prepared to share the truth. "Yeonjun was always jealous of our relationship. He couldn't understand how important you are to me. Last night, he asked me to choose between him and you.’’
San's heart skipped a beat. "And you chose me?"
"Without hesitation," you said firmly. "He couldn't accept that. He accused me of loving you more than him, and honestly, he was right. I do love you more."
San stared at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. "I had no idea," he whispered. "I never wanted to come between you two."
"You didn't," you replied, your voice steady. "Yeonjun did that himself. And when he forced me to choose, it made me realize just how much you mean to me."
San's heart ached with the weight of your words. "I never wanted to admit it, but I've always loved you," he confessed, his voice trembling. "But I was afraid of ruining our friendship."
You smiled, your eyes shining with tears. "You could never ruin it, San. You've always been there for me, through everything. And now, I want to be here for you."
San felt a surge of emotion, a mix of relief, joy, and overwhelming love. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch tender. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and passion.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice a whisper.
He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. When you didn't, he pressed his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours with a careful, loving precision. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotions, a kiss that spoke of friendship, love, and unspoken desires.
San's hand moved to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slightly. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, the warmth of his body so close to yours. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.
As the kiss continued, it grew more intense. The emotions that had been building up inside both of you for so long now found their release. His kisses became more urgent, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. He tilted his head to gain better access, his tongue slipping out to gently trace your lower lip before seeking entrance.
You parted your lips, allowing him in, and a soft moan escaped from deep within your throat. The kiss was no longer just an expression of love but a claim. San's tongue explored your mouth, tasting and teasing, and you responded with equal fervor, meeting his passion with your own.
San's hands began to roam your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He ran his fingers down your sides, feeling the curves of your waist and hips. His hands slid under your shirt, the warmth of his palms against your skin sending sparks of desire through you.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with awe.
He shifted, hovering over you, his body pressing you gently into the mattress. The weight of him felt comforting and exciting all at once. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you.
"So perfect," he whispered, his voice husky. "You're perfect, baby."
You shivered at the pet name, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. "San," you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back down for another kiss.
This kiss was even more heated, filled with an urgency that left you both breathless. San's hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of your body with a mix of tenderness and possession. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips.
"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire.
"Yes," you moaned, arching into his touch. "So good, Sannie."
He smiled against your lips, pleased with your response. "I want to make you feel amazing," he murmured, kissing a trail down your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped.’’
San's kisses trailed down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a path of fire in their wake. He paused at your breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking until you were writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
"San, please," you begged, your voice a mix of need and desperation.
He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with passion. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."
"I want you," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you."
But he couldn’t give it to you right away. He knew he had to prepare you to ensure you were ready for him. He wanted this to be perfect for you.
He looked down at you. "I need to get you ready for me," he murmured, his voice husky. "I don't want to hurt you."
You nodded, your breath coming in shallow gasps. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. He moved lower, kissing a path between your breasts and down your stomach, savoring the taste of your skin. When he reached the juncture of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you with a mix of tenderness and hunger.
"You're so beautiful," he said softly, his fingers gently parting your folds. "I want to make you feel so good."
His touch was gentle at first, his fingers exploring your cunt with a tenderness that sent shivers through your body. He found your clit, circling it with his thumb while his fingers teased your entrance. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as he touched you.
"Sannie," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea.
He smiled, pleased by your response. "Let me hear you."
Slowly, he slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your body. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch. He moved his finger in and out, his thumb still circling your clit, and watched as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.
‘’Fuck,yes,’’ you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets. "So good, San."
Encouraged by your response, he added a second finger, stretching you gently. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, your hips rocking against his hand. San's eyes darkened with lust, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
"You're so tight,’’ he murmured against your lips. "So perfect for me."
You whimpered, the pleasure building inside you with every movement of his fingers. "San, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.
He groaned, the sound of your need driving him wild. "I love hearing you beg, baby," he said, his fingers thrusting deeper. "I could do this all night."
Every sound you made seemed to intoxicate him, fueling his desire to pleasure you. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. You cried out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.
"That's it," he urged, his voice low and commanding. "Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you."
You were so close, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in powerful waves. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as you clung to him.
San watched you, his eyes filled with awe and desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.
He slowly withdrew his fingers from you, his eyes dark with desire as he brought them to his lips. He tasted you on his fingers, his eyelids fluttering shut and a deep, satisfied groan escaping from his throat.
"God, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, lost in the intoxicating flavor of you. "I could get addicted to this."
Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words, but your own desire was just as intense. With a newfound boldness, you reached down and gently wrapped your hand around his hardness, inside his sweatpants, feeling the heat and firmness of him through his sweatpants.
"I want to touch you," you whispered, your hand stroking him slowly. "I want to make you feel good too."
A shiver of pleasure ran through him at your touch, and he groaned, his hips instinctively thrusting into your hand. "You already do," he said, his voice strained. "But I won't stop you."
With trembling fingers, you tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, and he helped you remove them, tossing them aside. You marveled at the sight of him, hard and ready for you. He was indeed pretty big. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently.
San let out a deep, guttural moan, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. "Just like that, baby.’’
You watched his face, mesmerized by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. The sight of him, so vulnerable and turned on by your touch, filled you with a heady mix of power and desire. You wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had given you.
You positioned yourself between his legs, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he smiled down at you, his gaze filled with love and encouragement.
Slowly, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his length, tasting the salty tang of his arousal. San's breath hitched, and he let out a deep moan, his hands gripping the sheets. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down his shaft. You started slowly, finding a rhythm that felt comfortable, your hand stroking the base as your mouth moved up and down.
San's reactions were immediate and intense. His hips bucked slightly, and he let out a series of deep, guttural moans, his hands tangling in your hair. "Fuck, that feels so good," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.
You felt a surge of confidence at his praise, and you took him deeper, your mouth and hand working together to bring him pleasure. The sounds he made, the way his body responded to your touch, it all fueled your desire to please him.
"Yes, just like that," San panted, his voice low and rough. "You're so perfect, baby. So good to me."
You continued, the pace of your movements increasing as you sensed his pleasure building. His moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. You could feel him getting closer, his body tensing with anticipation.
"I'm close," he warned, his voice strained. "So close, baby."
You looked up at him with doe eyes, your eyes meeting his, and you could see the raw desire and love in his gaze. You wanted to take him over the edge, to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. With a final, deep movement, you took him fully into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him.
San let out a deep, shuddering groan, his hands tightening in your hair as he came, his release filling your mouth. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, and continued to move until he was spent.
Slowly, you pulled back, your eyes meeting his. He looked down at you with a mixture of awe and love, his chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths. Without giving you timr to register what was happening, he picked you and pinned you underneath him once again. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours.
"Are you ready, love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. ‘’Yes, please, I need you.’’
With a groan, he began to enter you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation was intense, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He was big, and you could feel every inch of him as he filled you completely. It was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain that quickly turned into pure ecstasy.
"God, you're so tight," he murmured, his voice rough. "You feel so good, baby. So perfect."
He started to move, his rhythm steady but rough, each thrust deep and deliberate. The sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.
‘’Fuck" you gasped, your voice filled with need.
"Let me hear you, baby," he groaned, his hips moving faster. "I want to hear every sound you make."
As he found his rhythm, his movements became rougher, more urgent. He thrust deeply, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. Each thrust hit a spot deep inside you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.
You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you. The intensity of his movements, combined with the constant stream of praise and pet names, drove you wild. You screamed his name.
He reached down, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the force of your orgasm.
"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Come for me. I want to feel you."
He didn't stop, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he chased his own release. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, was almost too much to bear. But it felt so good, so perfect.
"I need to hear you again," he groaned, his rhythm never faltering. "Come for me again, sweetheart. Let me feel you."
You moaned loudly, your body responding to his words and his touch. The pleasure built quickly, and you felt another orgasm rushing through you. "Sannie, I'm coming," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity.
"Good girl," he growled, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "I love it when you come for me. You're so beautiful."
You cried out as you came again, the pleasure washing over you in powerful waves. San continued to thrust deeply, his own moans mixing with yours as he pushed you both to the brink.
He pulled out of you and flipped you, positioning you on your hands and knees. He groaned at the sight, his hands gripping your hips as he lined himself up and thrust deeply inside you again.
"God, yes," he moaned, his voice filled with lust. "You look so perfect like this."
He set a punishing rhythm, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. One hand was on your hip while the other was on your neck, pushing you towards him as he thrust powerfully. "You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with possession. "All mine."
"Yes, Sannie," you gasped, your body rocking with each thrust. "I'm yours. Always."
He reached around, his fingers finding your clit again and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building quickly. "San, I'm going to come," you moaned, your voice shaking with need.
"Do it," he commanded, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "Come for me, baby. I need to feel you."
You cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the intensity. San groaned loudly, his own release following quickly as he filled you with his warmth.
For a long moment, you both stayed like that, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. San slowly pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed and pulling you into his arms.
"You're amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and love. "So beautiful, so perfect."
You smiled, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you, San," you whispered, your voice full of truth.
"I love you too," he replied, his eyes soft with emotion. "More than anything."
He kissed your forehead before slowly getting up from the bed, carefully pulling away from you. "Stay here, my love. I'll be right back," he said softly. You nodded, your body still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking.
He returned a few moments later with a warm, damp cloth and a bottle of water. He climbed back onto the bed, gently spreading your legs and starting to clean you up. His touch was tender, every movement filled with care and love.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft as he wiped you clean.
"I'm a bit sore," you admitted, your voice a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.
San's eyes filled with concern, and he gently caressed your thigh. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll be gentler next time."
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Please don't. I like it rough."
He paused, then a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, you do, do you?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "My little baby likes it rough, huh?"
You blushed, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful tone. You slowly nodded.
San chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. "But I'll still make sure you're taken care of, no matter what."
After he finished cleaning you up, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket around both of you. He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in soothing circles. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were incredibly comforting.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with love and concern.
You nodded, feeling completely at ease in his embrace. "Yes, Sannie. I'm more than okay. I'm perfect."
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good. I want you to always feel perfect with me."
You nestled closer to him, your head resting on his chest. "I do, San. I always have."
love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.
For a while, you both lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking and the deep connection you shared. San's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and reassuring.
"Do you need anything else?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room.
You shook your head, feeling completely content. "Just you," you said, your voice filled with love. "I just need you."
"You have me," he replied, his voice tender. "Always."
He continued to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both began to drift off to sleep. The night had been intense, but the love and care San showed you in the aftermath made everything feel even more special.
As you drifted back to sleep, feeling safe and loved in San's arms, a soft buzzing sound interrupted the serene quiet of the room. San frowned, his protective instincts kicking in as he realized it was your phone on his bedside table. He gently eased out of your embrace, making sure not to wake you, and reached for the phone.
The screen displayed a message from Yeonjun.
[Junnie] Where are you? Who are you with?
San's jaw tightened with anger, but he decided to ignore the message. However, the phone buzzed again, another message from Yeonjun.
[Junnie] I know you're at San's. You're such a whore.
San felt a surge of rage, his blood boiling at the audacity of Yeonjun's words. He couldn't let that slide. Carefully, he unlocked your phone and typed out a response, his fingers flying over the screen with determination.
[You] Yes, she's with me. And she's much better off here than she ever was with you. Don’t ever think of insulting her ever again. - San
He hit send, feeling a grim satisfaction as the message was delivered. He knew it might escalate things, but he couldn't stand the thought of Yeonjun continuing to harass you, especially after everything you'd been through.
San placed the phone back on the bedside table and glanced at you. You were still sound asleep, your face peaceful and content. He gently kissed your forehead, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him.
"You're safe with me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Sliding back into bed, San pulled you into his arms again, wrapping the blanket around both of you. The warmth of your body against his was soothing, calming the anger that still simmered within him. He stroked your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring.
As he lay there, his thoughts kept returning to Yeonjun's messages. The anger flared again briefly, but then he looked at you, peaceful in his arms, and he felt a deep sense of purpose. He would protect you, no matter what.
With that vow in his heart, San closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into a sense of calm. The events of the night played through his mind, a whirlwind of passion, love, and anger, but ultimately, a sense of rightness settled over him. You were with him, where you belonged, and he would do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy.
As sleep finally began to claim him, San held you close, his protective embrace a silent promise of his unwavering support and love. The future was uncertain, but with you in his arms, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And with that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of your presence his greatest solace.
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