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guavagyu · 1 year ago

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A REBLOG AND A KEYBOARD SMASH IN THE TAGS IS WHAT YOU WILL RECEIVE!!

i reached the max of 30 tags for u <3

First Things First Part 2 of 2

Summary: Direct continuation of First Things First

Rating: M (18+ MDNI) | WC: ~5.5k

Content Notes/Warnings: virgin san, consent and communication heavy, shy/nervous san, oral (f.rec.), san is a pussy eating ace, fingering, wap reader, mid sex safety talk, birth control implant mention, condomless sex, oral (m.rec.)

Reader Notes: vagina and breasts, fem pronouns, usage of girlfriend

For @sluttywonwoo

The past fifteen minutes have been the best of San’s life.

You’re in his bed, warm and sweet and soft underneath him. He’s got your hands in his hair, his tongue in your mouth, and your legs wrapped around his waist. Your hips jerk in little movements against his, the heat between your thighs seeping into his jeans and sending what feels like all the blood in his body down into his cock. He’s throbbing already, the zipper pressing almost painfully against his dick, and it’s all so, so much but, at the same time, not nearly enough.

Even your breathing has him feeling lightheaded, the little hitches and breathy sighs and heady exhales drifting over his lips and making him let out stunted moans in response.

He breaks away to grab at the back of his shirt and whip it over his head, tossing it over his shoulder as he fights a smirk at the dilation of your pupils and the gasp you’d let out when you set eyes on his chest.

Rubbing the hem of your top between his fingers, San builds up his courage before asking somewhat nervously, “Can I take this off?”

You grin as you lean up to let him tug your shirt up, and the sight of you laying back on his comforter in just your bra and jeans makes his head spin. San never thought he’d get to see you like this, touch you and feel you and breathe you in, and now that you’re here, it feels so surreal he’s not positive he’s awake.

“You can take these off too, if you want,” You offer, sliding a thumb beneath the waistband of your pants as you stare up at him, waiting for a response.

“I can?” San questions, astounded for some reason.

“Yeah, babe, it’s kinda necessary for the end goal here,” you laugh, your fingers inching closer to the button and zip.

His hands cover yours, stilling them as he whispers, “Let me, please.”

The button comes undone easily and the zipper glides down smoothly, thank goodness, and San only has to wrestle with your jeans a little bit to get them off, a victorious “yah!” escaping him once your legs are bare. You giggle at his antics, reaching behind your back to unclip your bra but leaving it on so the choice is up to him.

“This too?”

“If you want.”

“Hold on, lemme just-”

San climbs off of you and swiftly shucks his jeans off, jumping back onto the bed before you have a chance to see the wet patch on his boxers.

He sucks in a deep breath as he straddles you and pulls at the straps on your shoulders, slowly dragging the structured fabric away from your chest and fighting to hold in the whimper rising up in his.

You’re so beautiful, so hot and sexy and lush, everything he’s ever dreamed of and somehow more because his imagination could never do you justice, could never adequately conjure up the shape of your breasts and the peak of your nipples and the delicate expansion of your rib cage as you watch him stare at you.

You let him take in his fill, let him run his hands all over your soft skin, let him feel every bump and curve and imperfection, and he swears he falls even deeper in love.

Not just because of your perfect tits, but also because of your patience, your willingness to allow him time to explore, your endless well of compassion and love.

“Can I go down on you? I wanna taste you so bad,” San breathes into your tummy, his fingers gripping tightly at your hips and his heart racing just at the thought of getting his mouth on you.

It’s something he’s dreamed about entirely too often, not that he can ever remember what exactly happens. All he knows is that he wakes up insanely hard and wishing you were in bed next to him, missing the taste of something he’s never even seen or touched before.

“You can do anything you want to me, San.”

And fuck, if that doesn’t spark a shiver he feels all the way down to his toes.

You lay there with your legs spread, your pretty pussy on full display, just waiting for him to find his place between your thighs, and he knows he should dive right in.

He should, but he’s nervous all of a sudden, knowing he has no fucking clue what he’s doing (beyond his dreams and porn) and scared he won’t be able to make you feel good, or that you’ll get bored, or, even worse, that you’ll hate it and tell him to stop and decide you don’t love him anymore.

It must show on his face because you bring your thighs together and sink a hand into his hair to tug him up your body. He ends up with his chin pressed between your breasts and a pout on his lips, barely able to even look you in the eye.

“Are you okay, Sannie? We can stop whenever you want,” you assure him, your brows drawn together and your eyes sincere.

He groans, faceplanting in your chest and snaking his arms underneath you to pull you closer, mumbling his response into your skin.

“San?”

“I don’t want to stop. I’m…nervous,” he repeats a bit louder, turning his head to rest on your breast so he still doesn’t have to look at you, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

You sigh fondly, raking your fingers through his hair before taking a handful and bringing his head back to face you, his attempt to hide the moan that rose up in him the second you started pulling his hair unsuccessful.

Smiling gently at him, you cup his face and smoosh his cheeks together, forcing his lips into an even bigger pout.

“San, literally nothing you could do would disappoint me. I’ve never been someone’s first before and I’m scared to disappoint you, but as long as we’re honest and open with each other about what we want and how we’re feeling, everything will be fine. Wonderful, even!”

“Promise?” San asks through pursed lips.

“Promise.”

You lean down to give him a kiss, relaxing your grip on his face and letting him kiss you back.

He holds you tight, lazily making out with you until the tension bleeds out of his shoulders and his heart returns to its normal pace (or as normal as it can get when you’re around).

Okay San, you can do this, he thinks as he releases you from his arms and starts sliding down your body.

“Yes, you can, babe,” you cheer quietly, making San muffle an embarrassed whine in your stomach when he realizes he’d said that out loud.

He figures it can’t get worse from here so it’s not too difficult to smooch his way to your hips, sucking kisses from one side to the other before shouldering your thighs apart and pressing one leg to the bed so he can fit in between them.

San can smell you from here, tangy and sweet and something he wants in his mouth immediately, so he hefts your legs up onto his shoulders and licks his way into you.

Obviously, he’s never tasted pussy before, but he’s already decided yours is the best. You’re so soft, and kinda sour, and so fucking wet there’s nothing for him to do but shove his tongue into your entrance to get more of you on his tastebuds.

You sigh a moan, your hands sinking into his hair and pulling him up slightly to a little nub he assumes is your clit, and once he sucks it into his mouth, the change is instant.

You get even wetter and louder, your hips bucking up into him before his hands pull them back down to the bed as his tongue laps at you, gliding through your folds and ending with a pointed flick to your clit.

He’s so obsessed with how you sound, your breathy gasps and whines and moans, and he follows them to find what you like. You get louder when he sucks instead of licks, when he swirls his tongue instead of tapping it, when he groans and whimpers into you instead of just breathing, and he weaponizes all of it.

San has always been a fast learner, especially when it comes to hands-on lessons, and this is just one more thing he seems to pick up easily. It’s not all that difficult and he doesn’t know why some of his friends have complained about not being able to make their girlfriends cum, but they must not have been trying hard enough.

He thinks he might get to see you cum soon, might get to make you cum, and that thought is enough to make him double his efforts. His tongue works over you, and as soon as you whine out, “Fingers, San, two fingers, inside me,” he listens, sliding his fingers into your entrance.

Fuck, he forgets how to move his mouth when he feels you from the inside, your walls clenching around him already, the ridges and insane tightness of your cunt mesmerizing. His dick is definitely bigger than two of his fingers so he knows he’s got more work to do, but he honestly could cum in his pants just from this.

That wouldn’t be so bad, San thinks, knowing you won’t make fun of him or judge him and that you’ll be there when he’s actually ready to fuck you, but he wants it to happen tonight, damnit, so he steels himself and devotes all of his focus to making you cum.

He’s spent an embarrassing amount of time on forums dedicated to finding the g-spot so he implements what knowledge he has and crooks his fingers up, rubbing along the front of your walls until your hips buck up and you cry out his name.

His own hips dig into the mattress when he hears his name on your lips, the little bit of pressure and friction on his dick enough to tide him over until he can make you break. You seem to like when he drags his fingers in and out, even though you’re clenching hard enough he has to really pull, and he keeps those movements going, curving his fingertips into the rough patch inside you relentlessly.

Your back arches as your breath stalls in your lungs, and he can barely make out you pleading for another finger but he slides his ring finger in on the next thrust anyway, crooking all three and jerking them in and out until your cunt seizes up around them, sucking at your clit until you cry and start to gush. A flood of wetness hits his chin but he keeps going, curling his fingers inside you and tonguing your clit as you shake your way through an orgasm.

He tries to hide the elation even though he knows his eyebrows make it obvious, but he can’t find it in himself to care with the thought that he’d just made you cum echoing in his head.

That’s one down, San thinks, slowing his fingers inside you and riding out the pulsing of your cunt, nearly losing his mind as he imagines what you’ll feel like around his cock. He can’t think about it too much or he’ll cum now, so he slides his fingers out of your pussy and sucks them into his mouth, not at all expecting the whimper that escapes you when you see his lips wrapped around them.

“Was that good?” San asks, licking around his mouth to get as much of you as he can before he lowers your legs off his shoulders and starts kissing his way up your body.

You’re still catching your breath, managing a nod as he rises to hover above you and press kisses to your face. You sigh weakly, brushing his cheekbone with your fingertips and licking your own taste off his lips when his mouth meets yours.

“So good, San, so so so good.”

He grins against you, swallowing the “Thank fuck,” that threatens to tumble from his lips while barely repressing the urge to grind himself into your wet heat. He’d thought you felt good before, when there were four layers separating you, but now that there’s just the one, San feels like he could lose it right here and now.

Even through his boxers, he can feel the warmth of your pussy radiating into him, drawing him in and pulling him down, his hips digging into yours before he can will them to stay still. San doesn’t think you mind, your thighs spreading wider and your calves hooking around him, a soft gasp escaping your kiss-swollen lips. He gets a bit distracted, just grinding his cloth-covered cock into you until the fabric grows damp, until he can feel the head of his dick dragging through your folds and pressing into your clit.

He’s not really sure why he’s edging himself like this, but it probably has something to do with the fact that he never wants tonight to end. Yes, you’ve admitted your feelings for each other, but where do you go from here? Are you together now? Will this ever happen again? Are you going to sleep over or will you want to leave after? He wants you to stay, wants you to stay and move into his room and wake up with him and then make breakfast together and oh no, he got pancake batter on your shirt, he’ll just have to take it off, but what’s this? It’s on your skin too? Well, it’s only right that he clean you up with his-

“Sannie? You with me?”

Your hands are cupping his face again, your eyes searching his as a worried line forms between your eyebrows. He smooths it out with a gentle kiss, smiling sheepishly at you and trying to figure out how to explain himself.

You’re patient with him, as always, letting him work through his thoughts with one hand running through his hair and the other rubbing up and down his back. Your fingers dig into knots he didn’t know he had, both in his hair and in his muscles, and by the time he’s formulated an answer, he’s boneless against you, his arms relaxed on either side of your head and his face nestled in your neck.

He mumbles into your skin, just loud enough for you to hear with the proximity of his mouth to your ear, though he’s sure his voice is a bit muffled.

“I just really, really like you. Like, I love you. And I was dragging this out because I’m scared of what will happen when we’re done.”

You pull him up by the hair again to look at you and he doesn’t bother trying to hide his moan this time, lets his eyelids flutter and his shoulders shake with the shiver that wracks his body. He grins as your chest flushes against his, the heat of your skin nearly matching the heat between your thighs before you shake your head and push at his shoulders.

He reluctantly parts from you to flop on his back, his eyes widening and his breath catching when you climb on top of him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” San breathes, his hands grazing your stomach and rising to cup your breasts. Your nipples pebble against his palms and he’s distracted by the sensation, nearly missing your shy little smile and quiet, “So are you.”

He doesn’t miss the rolling of your hips into his, the pressure and heat on his cock nearly blinding with all of your weight pressing into him like this. It honestly makes him feel better, more secure, to have his back against the bed and you anchoring him down, knowing you’ll take care of him and make sure he’s safe and happy.

You notice, of course, your eyes crinkling with your grin as you pet his pecs. He loves feeling your hands on him, loves having your attention and affection, loves knowing he’s the only thing on your mind right now, just like you’re the only thing on his most, if not all, of the time.

It’s exactly what he needed for his overactive brain to settle down, for his worries and fears to melt away, and he wonders how you knew this would work. You always seem to know what he needs, whether it’s time or space or encouragement, and it’s almost scary to be known so well, especially when there are still parts of himself he wants to hide. Parts that are insecure, and jealous, and possessive. Parts he’s not ready for you to see.

He supposes that’s the tough part of being in love - cracking your soul open, letting someone else see all of it, and hoping they still love you the same after. He has a feeling you’d love him more, and it’s enough for him to fully relax into the bed, relax into you, and just let it all go.

Before you can ask, San answers, “I’m with you. I’m with you, and I’m good, and I’m ready.”

You nod, rising up on your knees and helping him tug his sodden boxers off, the fabric weighed down by both your wetness and the precum he’d been leaking for what feels like hours. His dick springs up against you, the tip barely brushing your folds before you settle just behind his balls and wrap your hand around his length.

Your fingers don’t touch but your hand is so warm, so much softer than his own, and suddenly he realizes, “I don’t have any condoms.”

You slump a bit, biting your lips and looking around the room before seemingly deciding something.

“Okay, I got tested at my last gyno appointment and I have an implant.”

San’s eyes bulge as you nod at a raised line under the skin of your inner arm.

“That looks painful,” he worriedly exclaims, sitting up on an elbow to trace his fingers over the edges.

“It hurt at first but now I barely notice it’s there,” you soothe him, petting at his abs and absentmindedly stroking his dick until he lays back down.

He shudders out an “Oh,” that turns into a moan when your hand tightens around him.

“What I’m saying is, it should be safe for us to skip a condom this time. I don’t want to get in the habit of it, but once wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially since it’s your first time.”

“Are you sure? I can go ask-”

“Honestly, San, I would rather die than give any of your friends confirmation that we’re about to have sex right now.”

“That’s fair,” he nods with a grimace, “I’m okay with it as long as you are.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t okay with it, San,” you say, smiling and rolling your palm over the head of his cock, smearing the precum around and dragging it down the length of him.

“Right, right, right, right, right,” he pants, trying his best to keep himself from fucking up into your hand.

“Baby, please, I won’t last.”

“Sorry, Sannie, your dick is just so pretty, I got distracted,” you admit before pressing his cock to his stomach and gliding your wet cunt over it.

The feeling of you is almost too much for him to process your words, but once he does, the confusion clears a bit of the haze from his eyes.

“What? It’s… a dick. It looks like a dick.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s your dick, and that makes it pretty. I wanted to blow you as soon as you took your pants off,” you insist.

You’re still grinding on him, soaking his cock while you smile down at him, and San has had enough.

“Babe, why are you torturing me? I thought you loved me,” he whines, his face screwing up as he tries to hold his climax at bay, practically begging you to sit on him already.

Without giving you time to respond, San does start begging.

“Please, please just put it in, let me feel you, please fuck me, please, please, please,” he cries, scrunching his eyes closed and throwing his head back against his pillow.

His hands snap to your hips when he feels your weight leave him, his grip punishing and panicked before you hush him, one hand wrapped around his dick and the other on his cheek.

“Sannie, Sannie, it’s alright, I do love you, I just needed space to line us up, okay?”

He gasps, feeling the heat radiating from your pussy before his cock even actually comes into contact with you, his eyes rolling back as you slide him through your folds and tilt your hips to notch the head in your entrance.

You start to sink down, your walls stretching, giving way around him as your cunt swallows his dick. The pleasure is blinding, breathtaking, life-changing. It’s like nothing San has ever felt before and no amount of reading or dreaming or porn watching could have prepared him for this. You’re speaking to him, or trying to, but every word from you gets jumbled in his mind, blurring together until all he can hear is your voice and his own breathing. He’s panting, hiccuping almost, unable to open his eyes more than a sliver because he knows a clear image of his dick disappearing inside you will send him over the edge, he’s that close.

It takes every ounce of will and discipline in him to hold himself together, to force his eyes to open and meet yours, to nod when his brain finally pieces together your questions.

You’ve been asking him if he’s okay, if it feels good, if you feel good, and once he starts talking, he can’t stop.

“Never been better in my life, fuck, please keep going, baby, please, please just-”

You rise up a few inches and drop back down, building up a slow, measured pace. He can feel everything, every thump of his heart and every throb of his dick, every square inch of your cunt as you start to fuck him.

“Want this always, need this always, need you forever, don’t fu- don’t fucking stop, baby, don’t stop, please, more.”

You’re so fucking good to him, so kind and so loving, rolling your hips harder and faster until the wet slap echoes around his small room. He can’t even hear the party anymore, can only hear the sounds coming from you and the noise of your body meeting his over the roaring in his ears. He feels like he needs to move, like he’ll crawl out of his own skin if he stays still any longer, so he gathers every brain cell he can find and tries to formulate words other than fuck, baby, and please.

“Let me- Can I move? Can you just- Yeah, yeah, yeah, stay just like that, I’ll,” your hips still above him, your body raised up just high enough for him to start bucking into you.

San’s got strong hips, sturdy hips, powerful hips, and they’re being put to a good use for the first time in his life. He can’t think of a purpose better for them than fucking you, than thrusting into you at different angles until you clench and leak around him, than pounding into that little rough spot inside you until you’re the one who can’t speak, who can’t keep their eyes open.

He really didn’t think he’d last this long, but it’s almost easier to hold it off with his focus on making you feel good rather than how good he feels. Your thighs shake, the muscles threatening to give out as you get closer, so he tightens his grip on your hips and holds you up as he fucks you. That works for a while, long enough for your walls to start quivering around him, but he feels like you’re too far away.

San needs to be close to you, needs to feel your soft skin against his and your heartbeat in his chest when he cums. His hands shift to your waist and tug insistently, pulling until you lay flat and he can wrap his arms around you. He buries his face in your neck, his open mouth pressed to your throat to muffle his moans as he feels the coil tighten inside his stomach and your cunt tighten around his cock.

“Close? Are you close? Baby, please be close, please,” San chokes out, sighing a breath of relief when he feels you nod and hears you try to answer.

You can’t get the words out but he knows what you mean, holding you tighter and trying to keep the same pace and intensity. He’s heard that most girls can’t have an orgasm just from fucking, but he thinks you’re about to so he doesn’t want to change anything, needs you to cum so he can too, or even better…

“Cum with me, baby,” he pants breathlessly into your shoulder, “Please cum, please cum with me, fuck, please, I need- I’m gonna-”

The rubber band holding back his climax breaks just as you do, his vision whiting out and his head going fuzzy when you clamp down around him. He has neither the strength nor the willpower to keep fucking you, to drag his cock from your walls as they pull him in deeper and deeper. His hips are flush against yours, his dick jumping and his cum pumping into you, unintelligible words of love pouring from his mouth until all rational thought leaves his mind.

San is floating, drifting, levitating, your body on top of his and your cunt wrapped around him his only tethers to the real world.

When he comes back to himself, his dick is softening, your combined cum starting to seep out of you and puddle in his v-lines. It’s kinda gross but mainly hot, his addled brain shouting at him to drag a finger through and put it in his mouth, find out what you taste like after he’s filled you up. He wonders if he could do it without you noticing, but if you kiss him again (which he hopes you do), you’ll know, and he thinks it would be weirder to do it behind your back than it would be to do it right in front of you.

He lets his head drop to the pillow and loosens his grip on you, running his fingers up and down your spine until the aftershocks of your orgasm stop. You still feel so tight around him, your cunt still searing hot and fucking drenched, and he groans as he feels his dick twitch back to life.

“Are you- Are you fucking hard again?” You moan, your voice sounding awed instead of irritated, like he’d expected you to be.

“Yeah, sorry. It normally takes longer but you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help it. We don’t have to fuck again, just give me a couple minutes and I’ll take care of it,” he apologizes, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he starts to pull out of you.

You let him, but before he can wiggle out from underneath your body, you shuffle down to lay between his knees.

“Can I? I wanted to suck you off before so this is perfect!”

You’re beaming up at him, your fingers tapping on his tense thighs as you wait for him to answer.

He feels like he’s dreaming.

Seriously, he’s had a dream like this before but you looked too flawless, too put together to be real. He likes this version of you much better, your hair mussed and your makeup smeared and your plump lips stretched in a smile. This you is just for him, and it’s a you he’ll keep forever, no matter what happens after tonight.

Your grin dims, and San remembers he’s supposed to respond to you.

“Sorry, yes, yeah, you can, of course you can. As long as you want to. Which you do, or you wouldn’t have offered, right? Right?”

Will he ever be able to talk to you like a regular adult person?

Probably not, but he can’t be bothered when you mumble, “Right,” in between licks to the head of his dick.

Your mouth feels different than your pussy. He wouldn’t say better, because he doesn’t think anything could be better than your cunt molded around him, but your mouth is amazing in its own right. It’s hot and wet and small, your lips barely able to wrap around his cock.

Fuck, and the view.

You, sprawled between his thighs with your hands clenching at the muscles sporadically, your perfect ass bouncing as your legs kick sedately. You, with your mouth stuffed full of him, your eyes tearing up as you bob up and down, your mascara streaking down your cheeks. He can’t keep his eyes open for too long, his eyelids fluttering with every suck, but even when he lets them fall shut, he still sees you like your visage has been burned into his eyelids.

Everything goes to hell when you swallow around him.

One of his hands clutches at your hair and the other covers yours on his thigh, your name leaving his lips, stuttered out and repeating like a broken record as his hips jerk, shoving his dick further down your throat.

He apologizes as best he can considering he doesn’t know words anymore, petting your scalp and squeezing your fingers, trying to keep his ass pinned to the bed with whatever strength he has left.

You warble around his cock, probably telling him it’s okay because you’ve been nothing but supportive and reassuring and perfect and lovely and beautiful and everything he needs this entire time, and it’s just too much.

It’s all too much, and before he can warn you, he’s cumming down your throat.

There’s less than before and he doesn’t fly away again this time, but it’s still better than it ever is on his own. Sharper, more visceral, longer-lasting, and by the time it’s over, he’s mumbling helplessly.

“Sorry, sorry, love you, thank you, please can you, please, I’m sorry, I love you, love you, love you,” San whispers as he grabs you under your arms and hauls you up his body, gathering you up in his arms and pressing his mouth to yours.

You mostly taste like him with a tinge of you, and while he wishes the ratio was flipped, he still likes it. Likes it enough to suck your tongue into his mouth so he can get more of the flavor on his taste buds, enough to roll over on top of you and lick his way down to your pussy, enough to shove his tongue inside of you and fuck in and out and in and out until you cum with a shiver and a little whine, pushing his face away when he doesn’t let up.

He rests his head on your thigh and looks at you for a bit longer, just taking you in, until you squirm in discomfort and pull at his hair. He kisses up your body, biting a mark into the place where your neck meets your shoulder and pressing a gentle peck to your still parted lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, love you, thank you,” he breathes into your mouth, sinking into you more and more until he’s boneless and smothering you.

“I can’t, Sannie, you have to-”

He wraps his arms around you and rolls back over so you can breathe, his fingers dancing across your back and hips, his body unable to settle with all of the love and affection pinballing around in his chest.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks in the midst of his dopamine daze, barely registering the incredulous look you throw at him as you respond, “Of course I will, you big, hot dummy.”

“I love you, girlfriend,” San croons into your ear.

“I love you too, boyfriend,” you breathe into his chest, copping one last feel of his bicep before you push up and ask, “Now, where’s your shower? We’re way too gross to sleep like this. And we both need to brush our teeth or I can’t kiss you for the rest of the night.”

Not pictured: San secret agent sneaking you down the hall and going down on you aGain in the shower until your legs give out, San smoothing a bandaid and a kiss on your banged up elbow, San stealing one of Jongho's spare toothbrushes from the costco pack he buys and bumping his hip into yours as you brush your teeth side by side, San wrapping you up in his fluffiest towel and smoothing moisturizer onto your skin, San dressing you in his clothes and trying not to get hard again, San cradling you in his arms as he falls asleep with a smile on his face because he knows you’ll be there when he wakes up

AN: oof way longer than i anticipated but here we are. I will never learn! beta read by @petrichor-mingi thank you endlessly

anyway please for the love of god, comment and reblog! likes work too but i love to know what you think of my work and even a keyboard smash in the tags makes me smile all day 💖

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