Warnings: smut, oral (m.rec & f.rec), cowgirl (?), semi-public sex, they're disgusting in love (yes that's a warning)
This story doesn't reflect the actions of the real life idol. NOT MEANT FOR MINORS!
Loving Bang Chan had always been easier than breathing.
When you met him for the first time, he had been a scruffy looking boy with silver-bleach curls, perfect posture and eyes that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world behind them - eyes that begged to be allowed softness, but could only afford strength.
Even then, as young as the both of you were, you knew he would be special.
Now…
The Chan in front of you, you couldn’t help but think, was all too similar yet entirely different.
Gone were the curls, his hair a straighter, unkempt-yet-somewhat-tamed shock of silver-grey-blonde. The strands fell messy over the sharp angles of his face, the same jawline you’d felt getting sharper under your fingertips, the same cheeks you’d tracked the hollowing and filling-out of based on the proximity to comeback season.
His posture was still perfect, as unmoving as it had been back then. All the years of stage performing, interviews and dance practices had honed all those nervous tendencies out of him like a cruel teacher’s taunt. He stood tall with his shoulders back, and moved with purpose that was often misconstrued as swagger.
And those eyes…
God, those eyes.
Still beautiful, still depthless, still so easy for you to lose yourself in.
You couldn’t see them now, since he was currently deep in sleep next to you, belly first and tangled in the same sheets the both of you had absolutely obliterated the night before. The both of you had split away from each other in your sleep, and had ended up sleeping soundly next to each other until now - Chan on his stomach, face towards you but half way in the pillows and you on your side, body curled but facing Chan. Close enough that you could sense the warmth of his skin, but not close enough to touch.
But…
Oh, last night.
The memory of the night’s events brought your attention to the dull ache between your legs, somewhere between soreness and satisfaction as you stretched, arching your back and wiggling your toes and turning onto your back until you didn’t feel sleep-heavy anymore. The morning was still slow, sunshine still too weak to filter through your drawn curtains, as were the sounds of the slowly awakening city.
Chan had finally gotten a break from schedules a few days ago and you had insisted on taking him out, demanding he take a real break and spend some time with you - something he had been all too willing to acquiese. And so you had pulled out your favourite black dress, slinky silk and slightly sexy, and had taken him to an upscale-yet-private dining experience at the highest point of the city.
He had been all eyes for you - and hands, but that was only to be expected. You couldn’t blame him, if anything you were no better. Or worse.
You grin a little as you more flashes of memory invade your senses, still cocooned deep in the blankets and revelling in the heat of Chan’s body.
“You love me more than I deserve, moon.” He’d murmured as you walked back into your apartment, the french window style balconies in your living room just letting in enough of the night-time wind and city noise that the two of you wouldn’t choke in your own tension.
Tension, because you’d slipped your hand down his ( impeccably well tailored) pants in the back of the fancy cab you’d had the foresight to book, thanking your past self for choosing a limo with those privacy panels.
Tension, because you’d let him buck his hips into your hand, struggling to maintain some semblance of decency, and then gotten on your knees right in that limousine, wordlessly asking him for permission to replace your hands with your mouth.
Tension, because Chan threw caution to the air that very instant, a soft groan leaving his mouth as he gathered your hair in his hands, watching as you undid the button on his pants. Gritted his teeth as you dragged the boxers down just enough to get your lips on him, tongue swirling soft and wet around his tip.
Tension, because Chan had tightened his grip on your hair as you pleasured him, hips now rocking of their own accord and letting his cock reached deeper down your throat as you bobbed your head to take more of him. The indecency of his movements and the thrill of being on your knees for Chan swirled themselves into a vulgar cocktail that got you so drunk you barely registered pulling into your apartment complex’s basement parking.
And so there you were, basking in the silence of your apartment, your dress wrinkled and Chan’s hair tousled, jacket now wrapped over his arm in an attempt to mask his…ahem, problem on your way up the elevators to your home.
Your shared home.
“I wish I could love you even more, Chan.”
And that.
That broke the dam, because the both of you reached for each other almost instantly, lips meeting in a flurry of movement and fireworks.
You clearly remember the whimper that Chan let out, a sound that seemed to have clawed it’s way up his throat without permission, and it warmed your heart that he was able to truly let go, and not control his voice and body around you. Like he wanted to be this raw for you, unfiltered and thoughtless and bare from the mind and the body-
Chan pressed you against the entryway wall, jacket forgetten on the floor as he dragged you closer by the waist, your bodies buzzing with the need to be closer, feel more, do more, want more, more more-
And so you gave each other more.
More, until your clothes lined a path to your bedroom, dress discarded next to what was once a crisp black dress shirt. A lone heel toppled over on trousers. Lace underwear barely hanging off your bedroom door’s handle.
More, until you were laid out in bed in nothing but your skin, and Chan was between your legs, planting kisses so reverent against your inner thighs that one would think he was kneeling at some goddess’ altar, an unholy offering to some unholy shrine. Until his plush mouth met your clit, sucking first and then licking a stripe up your folds until you arched, voice cracking and climbing in pitch until you broke for him. But he couldn’t let up, arms dragging you until your legs were propped over his shoulders, and your hands shook as they pulled at his hair, stuck between orgasm and overstimulation.
More, until you were on top of him, Chan’s eyes sparkling in the nighttime, straddling his waist and feeling your thighs clench as you sunk down on his length, your gasps and moans intermingling until you were flush against each other, connected in the most intimate way possible. And when the both of you began moving against each other, it was like you couldn’t stop- your teeth sinking into Chan’s shoulder, hips grinding slow and then rough, Chan’s hands gripping your waist, then back, then hair, your head eddying and emptying until the only thing you could think of was Chan Chan Chan-
You blinked, pulled out of your memory by a heavy arm draping around your waist and a strong nose nuzzling into your shoulder, the lines of Chan’s body still heavy with sleep and a rarely found laziness.
“Good morning, moon.” his voice was husky in that sleep-roughened way, the syllables cracking and curling against the curve of your neck, where Chan’s lips brushed against your skin. His warm breath tickled you, but you couldn’t help but smile, relaxing into his hold as he draped himself over your body like an oversized golden retriever.
“Sleep well?”
He asked, eyes clearly still closed and basking in the morning indolence the same way you had been, your bodies still warm under the sheets and gloriously entangled with each other, the way you were meant to be.
The way you’d been for all these years.
The way, you wished, you would continue to be for the rest of your lives.
The thought of forever with Chan had you turning slightly to place a kiss on his forehead - a loud, smacking, dramatic kiss, before throwing your arms around his body and pulling him even closer. Apparently that was possible.
The exageration of your kiss had Chan lifting himself up from you, balancing his weight on an elbow as he looked down at you, smiling sleepily and-
His eyes, Oh.
Strong and striking still, but now soft and shining and…happy.
Happy, like you made him happy.
You smiled back at him, all teeth and joy.
“Happy Birthday, my love.”
I love love, I love people in love, and I wish our lovely boy the happiest birthday <3
I'd love to hear feedback, so do comment and reblog, lovies!
This story doesn't reflect the actions of the real life idol. NOT MEANT FOR MINORS!
You didn’t think unlocking the door could feel like such an impossible task.
Your head swirled, the colors and textures swirling into a cocktail of feelings interspersed by sparks of light against the back of your lids. You could feel your wretched heart beating in your chest, the rhythm feeling sluggish yet overwhelming under your sternum. Your hand struggled to snap your purse open, the burst of chaotic feeling against your fingertips pulling a giggle out of you as you felt around for your keys - where the fuck did they go, why weren’t you able to hear the telltale jingle-
And then something that felt uncannily like a set of plush lips land against the junction of your neck and shoulder, a shudder working its way across your back almost instantly at the feeling-
Oh.
That’s why you felt so distracted.
Because what ever was left of your consciousness was speared onto the warm arms bracketing your waist, the warmer chest covered in cotton pressing against your back and the warmest mouth now sucking marks against your shoulder.
Of course it wasn’t the drinking.
It was Yoon Jeonghan.
“God- fuck-” you mumble, a soft hum escaping you as you momentarily lose control of your body and let Jeonghan press you against the (Still-locked) main door of your apartment.
A sound that sounded suspiciously like a moan choked against your skin as Jeonghan’s hips shifted against your ass, your bodies now snug against each other in ways that they weren’t before.
“You should figure out that lock before I- fuck- start undressing you against the door, sweetheart.”
The both of you were as drunk as drunk can get, but my god did the notes of desperation in his voice get you more euphoric than any whiskey or wine.
You don’t know how long it took you to find your keys from your purse and get your main door unlocked, or how long it took the both of you to get to your bedroom. What you do remember however... The bursts of shivers and tamped down whimpers from Jeonghan’s wandering hands and mouth. Jeonghan getting onto his knees to unbuckle your heels while peppering kisses against the parts of your thighs your dress didn’t cover, and trailing his fingertips up the back of your calves as he rose. Pushing him against the entryway wall and smiling evilly at him when he groaned down at the sight of your hands fiddling with his belt, and the button of his jeans.
You remember Jeonghan practically herding you to your bed, your head spinning and tilting as he let gravity drop you ( and himself) on top of your plush sheets. The alcohol heightened every sensation the boy on top of you was giving you, each touch and every kiss like a line of star-fire on your skin.
Magic. Sheer Magic.
Sparks exploded behind your eyes every time they fluttered closed, until the only things I could feel were his soft pants, the rustle of half-removed clothing and the scratchiness in your throat when he wrung whimpers out of you.
Time slowed and warped and buzzed around us, like it was a suggestion and not a law of nature. Or maybe that was because of the languid, lazy movements of the boy above you - his hips flush and grinding up in between your spread legs, hands on either side of your head as he buried his head in your neck, trying to compose himself. His hair tickled your shoulder, the strands feeling silk smooth and a hundred times more ticklish than you expect.
“You can’t feel so fucking good all the time-”
Jeonghan’s words forced themselves through gritted teeth, hips stuttering momentarily before keeping up their rhythm. A moan bubbled up your throat at the sensation, your arms now curled around his shoulders.
“I won’t be able to stop wanting you every second I’m awake-”
The best part about drunk Jeonghan ; with the loosened inhibitions came a loosened tongue.
“Why should you stop wanting me,” you gasp, your voice sounding almost embarrassingly breathless - atleast, you would have been embarrassed if you had any shred of shame left in you. With the way your own hips were canting up to meet Jeonghan’s, the concept had long since eluded both of you-
“When I want you beyond death every day-”
Jeonghan’s groan interjected your response, his teeth sinking harshly into your skin. Your back arched into Jeonghan's body, a sound of simultaneous pleasure and pain now echoing around your dark bedroom, the only bits of light coming from the moving cars and the lone streetlight outside your window.
Somewhere along the way, you vaguely remember tapping Jeonghan’s shoulder, urging him to let you flip positions: you now straddling his lap as he leaned against the headboard, looking up at you like you were some divine goddess of old. You could see literal stars in his eyes as he stared at you, shirt half-unbuttoned and hair mussed beyond measure and chest heaving slightly; a disciple at your unholy altar.
For a second, you stared at each other, your soft breathing the only sounds in the room.
The dress you’d been wearing was now bunching at the top of your thighs, one of the straps just shy of slipping right off your shoulder, your hair likely disastrously messy, and your hips inches above Jeonghan’s, your entire system itching to lower yourself onto him and bring back all the sensations you had been enjoying not minutes ago.
But you reached out to the shelf, a flat slab of marble that ran across the back of the headboard’s length, a convenient place for you to store your cigarettes. Your body draped over Jeonghan’s as you moved, your chest brushing against his shoulder as you reached over him, chuckling coyly as you felt his hands trail up your thighs and squeeze your ass.
The silence as you straightened up, cigarette and lighter in hand was comfortable, unhurried. Jeonghan was still looking at you with that dazed, lust-addled energy thrumming from every line of his body, the expression on his face caught somewhere between delight and depravity, resting lightly against the headboard and waiting for you to make him, the both of you, feel good.
“A smoke for your thoughts, sweetheart?”
Jeonghan’s gravelly voice sent a whisper of desire across your body, your bottom lip now caught in your teeth as you met his gaze. You were still straddled across his hips, almost inappropriately so. Your hands began to move on autopilot, slipping the cigarette between your lips and-
and Jeonghan pulled the lighter out of your hand, flicking it alive and holding it to you, prompting you to lean forward and light the cigarette. So you did,ever so slowly, your eyes not leaving his heated stare as you took in a deep, deep drag.
Oh, sweet nicotine. There was something euphoric about how cigarettes felt when you were already incapacitated by alcohol, but it was all irreparably magnified when Jeonghan was in front of you, his body so close, his touch searing through your skin down to the bone in the way that it was.
You straighten, letting your hips drop to settle lightly against Jeonghan’s hips as you tilted your neck back, back arching as you ground yourself against him, the smoke leaving your lips in a thick plume.
When you brought your neck back up, you could see the clench of Jeonghan’s jaw and feel the intention behind his movements when one of his hands left their initial spot on your ass, smoothing over and around your hip, slowly trailing up the middle of your chest to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck.
You met his eyes, taking another drag of the cigarette as his hand tightened around your throat. Your hips bucked again, but this time he matched your rhythm and the combination of sensations almost drove you out of your skin.
A moan left your lips along with the smoke, and Jeonghan used his hold on your throat to settle you tighter against him as he took the cigarette from you, taking his first drag of nicotine.
Jeonghan wasn’t the type to smoke very often; the control was something you admired about him. He only smoked when he was particularly drunk, or in moments like this, when the smoke curled around the two of you like another character to your drawn-out foreplay.
He leaned more solidly against the headboard with a satisfied moan, and you couldn’t help but want to surge forward and press your lips against the expanse of that pretty neck, leave darker marks than the ones that were already bruising his collarbone, but his hand held you in place.
Sure, you could have moved if you wanted to, but you both knew how this worked: he got off on knowing all he needed was one hand to get you to submit, and you got off on knowing that he could get you to submit in other ways, too.
“Let me kiss you.”
Your voice was rough, soft, almost whiny as you let yourself grind shamelessly against him, a litany of whimpers threatening to escape you. But Jeonghan only watched, that wretched hand applying just-enough-but-not-quite pressure on your throat and his head tilted to the side as he exhaled another drag.
“Jeonghan, please.”
You’re sure he could see the impatience on every line of your body, from your bitten lips to your dress’ straps finally giving out on you. From the dress now rucked up almost to your hips, giving him a view of the black lace underneath. But still he watched, before taking another drag, and your impatience finally turned to desperation just as-
Jeonghan pulled you closer to him by your neck, smoke still escaping his lips in thin billows, pressing his lips harshly to your own as he continued grinding against your body, matching your pace almost perfectly.
“Can’t say no to you when you look at me like that now, can I?”
old piece, repurposed for our lovely boyo <3 I enjoyed editing this to suit Jeonghan very much! Hopefully I post here more often haha
i'd love to hear feedback, so do comment and reblog!
This story doesn't reflect the actions of the real life idol. NOT MEANT FOR MINORS!
You didn’t think unlocking the door could feel like such an impossible task.
Your head swirled, the colors and textures swirling into a cocktail of feelings interspersed by sparks of light against the back of your lids. You could feel your wretched heart beating in your chest, the rhythm feeling sluggish yet overwhelming under your sternum. Your hand struggled to snap your purse open, the burst of chaotic feeling against your fingertips pulling a giggle out of you as you felt around for your keys - where the fuck did they go, why weren’t you able to hear the telltale jingle-
And then something that felt uncannily like a set of plush lips land against the junction of your neck and shoulder, a shudder working its way across your back almost instantly at the feeling-
Oh.
That’s why you felt so distracted.
Because what ever was left of your consciousness was speared onto the warm arms bracketing your waist, the warmer chest covered in cotton pressing against your back and the warmest mouth now sucking marks against your shoulder.
Of course it wasn’t the drinking.
It was Yoon Jeonghan.
“God- fuck-” you mumble, a soft hum escaping you as you momentarily lose control of your body and let Jeonghan press you against the (Still-locked) main door of your apartment.
A sound that sounded suspiciously like a moan choked against your skin as Jeonghan’s hips shifted against your ass, your bodies now snug against each other in ways that they weren’t before.
“You should figure out that lock before I- fuck- start undressing you against the door, sweetheart.”
The both of you were as drunk as drunk can get, but my god did the notes of desperation in his voice get you more euphoric than any whiskey or wine.
You don’t know how long it took you to find your keys from your purse and get your main door unlocked, or how long it took the both of you to get to your bedroom. What you do remember however... The bursts of shivers and tamped down whimpers from Jeonghan’s wandering hands and mouth. Jeonghan getting onto his knees to unbuckle your heels while peppering kisses against the parts of your thighs your dress didn’t cover, and trailing his fingertips up the back of your calves as he rose. Pushing him against the entryway wall and smiling evilly at him when he groaned down at the sight of your hands fiddling with his belt, and the button of his jeans.
You remember Jeonghan practically herding you to your bed, your head spinning and tilting as he let gravity drop you ( and himself) on top of your plush sheets. The alcohol heightened every sensation the boy on top of you was giving you, each touch and every kiss like a line of star-fire on your skin.
Magic. Sheer Magic.
Sparks exploded behind your eyes every time they fluttered closed, until the only things I could feel were his soft pants, the rustle of half-removed clothing and the scratchiness in your throat when he wrung whimpers out of you.
Time slowed and warped and buzzed around us, like it was a suggestion and not a law of nature. Or maybe that was because of the languid, lazy movements of the boy above you - his hips flush and grinding up in between your spread legs, hands on either side of your head as he buried his head in your neck, trying to compose himself. His hair tickled your shoulder, the strands feeling silk smooth and a hundred times more ticklish than you expect.
“You can’t feel so fucking good all the time-”
Jeonghan’s words forced themselves through gritted teeth, hips stuttering momentarily before keeping up their rhythm. A moan bubbled up your throat at the sensation, your arms now curled around his shoulders.
“I won’t be able to stop wanting you every second I’m awake-”
The best part about drunk Jeonghan ; with the loosened inhibitions came a loosened tongue.
“Why should you stop wanting me,” you gasp, your voice sounding almost embarrassingly breathless - atleast, you would have been embarrassed if you had any shred of shame left in you. With the way your own hips were canting up to meet Jeonghan’s, the concept had long since eluded both of you-
“When I want you beyond death every day-”
Jeonghan’s groan interjected your response, his teeth sinking harshly into your skin. Your back arched into Jeonghan's body, a sound of simultaneous pleasure and pain now echoing around your dark bedroom, the only bits of light coming from the moving cars and the lone streetlight outside your window.
Somewhere along the way, you vaguely remember tapping Jeonghan’s shoulder, urging him to let you flip positions: you now straddling his lap as he leaned against the headboard, looking up at you like you were some divine goddess of old. You could see literal stars in his eyes as he stared at you, shirt half-unbuttoned and hair mussed beyond measure and chest heaving slightly; a disciple at your unholy altar.
For a second, you stared at each other, your soft breathing the only sounds in the room.
The dress you’d been wearing was now bunching at the top of your thighs, one of the straps just shy of slipping right off your shoulder, your hair likely disastrously messy, and your hips inches above Jeonghan’s, your entire system itching to lower yourself onto him and bring back all the sensations you had been enjoying not minutes ago.
But you reached out to the shelf, a flat slab of marble that ran across the back of the headboard’s length, a convenient place for you to store your cigarettes. Your body draped over Jeonghan’s as you moved, your chest brushing against his shoulder as you reached over him, chuckling coyly as you felt his hands trail up your thighs and squeeze your ass.
The silence as you straightened up, cigarette and lighter in hand was comfortable, unhurried. Jeonghan was still looking at you with that dazed, lust-addled energy thrumming from every line of his body, the expression on his face caught somewhere between delight and depravity, resting lightly against the headboard and waiting for you to make him, the both of you, feel good.
“A smoke for your thoughts, sweetheart?”
Jeonghan’s gravelly voice sent a whisper of desire across your body, your bottom lip now caught in your teeth as you met his gaze. You were still straddled across his hips, almost inappropriately so. Your hands began to move on autopilot, slipping the cigarette between your lips and-
and Jeonghan pulled the lighter out of your hand, flicking it alive and holding it to you, prompting you to lean forward and light the cigarette. So you did,ever so slowly, your eyes not leaving his heated stare as you took in a deep, deep drag.
Oh, sweet nicotine. There was something euphoric about how cigarettes felt when you were already incapacitated by alcohol, but it was all irreparably magnified when Jeonghan was in front of you, his body so close, his touch searing through your skin down to the bone in the way that it was.
You straighten, letting your hips drop to settle lightly against Jeonghan’s hips as you tilted your neck back, back arching as you ground yourself against him, the smoke leaving your lips in a thick plume.
When you brought your neck back up, you could see the clench of Jeonghan’s jaw and feel the intention behind his movements when one of his hands left their initial spot on your ass, smoothing over and around your hip, slowly trailing up the middle of your chest to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck.
You met his eyes, taking another drag of the cigarette as his hand tightened around your throat. Your hips bucked again, but this time he matched your rhythm and the combination of sensations almost drove you out of your skin.
A moan left your lips along with the smoke, and Jeonghan used his hold on your throat to settle you tighter against him as he took the cigarette from you, taking his first drag of nicotine.
Jeonghan wasn’t the type to smoke very often; the control was something you admired about him. He only smoked when he was particularly drunk, or in moments like this, when the smoke curled around the two of you like another character to your drawn-out foreplay.
He leaned more solidly against the headboard with a satisfied moan, and you couldn’t help but want to surge forward and press your lips against the expanse of that pretty neck, leave darker marks than the ones that were already bruising his collarbone, but his hand held you in place.
Sure, you could have moved if you wanted to, but you both knew how this worked: he got off on knowing all he needed was one hand to get you to submit, and you got off on knowing that he could get you to submit in other ways, too.
“Let me kiss you.”
Your voice was rough, soft, almost whiny as you let yourself grind shamelessly against him, a litany of whimpers threatening to escape you. But Jeonghan only watched, that wretched hand applying just-enough-but-not-quite pressure on your throat and his head tilted to the side as he exhaled another drag.
“Jeonghan, please.”
You’re sure he could see the impatience on every line of your body, from your bitten lips to your dress’ straps finally giving out on you. From the dress now rucked up almost to your hips, giving him a view of the black lace underneath. But still he watched, before taking another drag, and your impatience finally turned to desperation just as-
Jeonghan pulled you closer to him by your neck, smoke still escaping his lips in thin billows, pressing his lips harshly to your own as he continued grinding against your body, matching your pace almost perfectly.
“Can’t say no to you when you look at me like that now, can I?”
old piece, repurposed for our lovely boyo <3 I enjoyed editing this to suit Jeonghan very much! Hopefully I post here more often haha
i'd love to hear feedback, so do comment and reblog!
This story doesn't reflect the actions of the real life idol. NOT MEANT FOR MINORS!
You didn’t think unlocking the door could feel like such an impossible task.
Your head swirled, the colors and textures swirling into a cocktail of feelings interspersed by sparks of light against the back of your lids. You could feel your wretched heart beating in your chest, the rhythm feeling sluggish yet overwhelming under your sternum. Your hand struggled to snap your purse open, the burst of chaotic feeling against your fingertips pulling a giggle out of you as you felt around for your keys - where the fuck did they go, why weren’t you able to hear the telltale jingle-
And then something that felt uncannily like a set of plush lips land against the junction of your neck and shoulder, a shudder working its way across your back almost instantly at the feeling-
Oh.
That’s why you felt so distracted.
Because what ever was left of your consciousness was speared onto the warm arms bracketing your waist, the warmer chest covered in cotton pressing against your back and the warmest mouth now sucking marks against your shoulder.
Of course it wasn’t the drinking.
It was Yoon Jeonghan.
“God- fuck-” you mumble, a soft hum escaping you as you momentarily lose control of your body and let Jeonghan press you against the (Still-locked) main door of your apartment.
A sound that sounded suspiciously like a moan choked against your skin as Jeonghan’s hips shifted against your ass, your bodies now snug against each other in ways that they weren’t before.
“You should figure out that lock before I- fuck- start undressing you against the door, sweetheart.”
The both of you were as drunk as drunk can get, but my god did the notes of desperation in his voice get you more euphoric than any whiskey or wine.
You don’t know how long it took you to find your keys from your purse and get your main door unlocked, or how long it took the both of you to get to your bedroom. What you do remember however... The bursts of shivers and tamped down whimpers from Jeonghan’s wandering hands and mouth. Jeonghan getting onto his knees to unbuckle your heels while peppering kisses against the parts of your thighs your dress didn’t cover, and trailing his fingertips up the back of your calves as he rose. Pushing him against the entryway wall and smiling evilly at him when he groaned down at the sight of your hands fiddling with his belt, and the button of his jeans.
You remember Jeonghan practically herding you to your bed, your head spinning and tilting as he let gravity drop you ( and himself) on top of your plush sheets. The alcohol heightened every sensation the boy on top of you was giving you, each touch and every kiss like a line of star-fire on your skin.
Magic. Sheer Magic.
Sparks exploded behind your eyes every time they fluttered closed, until the only things you could feel were his soft pants, the rustle of half-removed clothing and the scratchiness in your throat when he wrung whimpers out of you.
Time slowed and warped and buzzed around us, like it was a suggestion and not a law of nature. Or maybe that was because of the languid, lazy movements of the boy above you - his hips flush and grinding up in between your spread legs, hands on either side of your head as he buried his head in your neck, trying to compose himself. His hair tickled your shoulder, the strands feeling silk smooth and a hundred times more ticklish than you expect.
“You can’t feel so fucking good all the time-”
Jeonghan’s words forced themselves through gritted teeth, hips stuttering momentarily before keeping up their rhythm. A moan bubbled up your throat at the sensation, your arms now curled around his shoulders.
“I won’t be able to stop wanting you every second I’m awake-”
The best part about drunk Jeonghan ; with the loosened inhibitions came a loosened tongue.
“Why should you stop wanting me,” you gasp, your voice sounding almost embarrassingly breathless - atleast, you would have been embarrassed if you had any shred of shame left in you. With the way your own hips were canting up to meet Jeonghan’s, the concept had long since eluded both of you-
“When I want you beyond death every day-”
Jeonghan’s groan interjected your response, his teeth sinking harshly into your skin. Your back arched into Jeonghan's body, a sound of simultaneous pleasure and pain now echoing around your dark bedroom, the only bits of light coming from the moving cars and the lone streetlight outside your window.
Somewhere along the way, you vaguely remember tapping Jeonghan’s shoulder, urging him to let you flip positions: you now straddling his lap as he leaned against the headboard, looking up at you like you were some divine goddess of old. You could see literal stars in his eyes as he stared at you, shirt half-unbuttoned and hair mussed beyond measure and chest heaving slightly; a disciple at your unholy altar.
For a second, you stared at each other, your soft breathing the only sounds in the room.
The dress you’d been wearing was now bunching at the top of your thighs, one of the straps just shy of slipping right off your shoulder, your hair likely disastrously messy, and your hips inches above Jeonghan’s, your entire system itching to lower yourself onto him and bring back all the sensations you had been enjoying not minutes ago.
But you reached out to the shelf, a flat slab of marble that ran across the back of the headboard’s length, a convenient place for you to store your cigarettes. Your body draped over Jeonghan’s as you moved, your chest brushing against his shoulder as you reached over him, chuckling coyly as you felt his hands trail up your thighs and squeeze your ass.
The silence as you straightened up, cigarette and lighter in hand was comfortable, unhurried. Jeonghan was still looking at you with that dazed, lust-addled energy thrumming from every line of his body, the expression on his face caught somewhere between delight and depravity, resting lightly against the headboard and waiting for you to make him, the both of you, feel good.
“A smoke for your thoughts, sweetheart?”
Jeonghan’s gravelly voice sent a whisper of desire across your body, your bottom lip now caught in your teeth as you met his gaze. You were still straddled across his hips, almost inappropriately so. Your hands began to move on autopilot, slipping the cigarette between your lips and-
and Jeonghan pulled the lighter out of your hand, flicking it alive and holding it to you, prompting you to lean forward and light the cigarette. So you did,ever so slowly, your eyes not leaving his heated stare as you took in a deep, deep drag.
Oh, sweet nicotine. There was something euphoric about how cigarettes felt when you were already incapacitated by alcohol, but it was all irreparably magnified when Jeonghan was in front of you, his body so close, his touch searing through your skin down to the bone in the way that it was.
You straighten, letting your hips drop to settle lightly against Jeonghan’s hips as you tilted your neck back, back arching as you ground yourself against him, the smoke leaving your lips in a thick plume.
When you brought your neck back up, you could see the clench of Jeonghan’s jaw and feel the intention behind his movements when one of his hands left their initial spot on your ass, smoothing over and around your hip, slowly trailing up the middle of your chest to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck.
You met his eyes, taking another drag of the cigarette as his hand tightened around your throat. Your hips bucked again, but this time he matched your rhythm and the combination of sensations almost drove you out of your skin.
A moan left your lips along with the smoke, and Jeonghan used his hold on your throat to settle you tighter against him as he took the cigarette from you, taking his first drag of nicotine.
Jeonghan wasn’t the type to smoke very often; the control was something you admired about him. He only smoked when he was particularly drunk, or in moments like this, when the smoke curled around the two of you like another character to your drawn-out foreplay.
He leaned more solidly against the headboard with a satisfied moan, and you couldn’t help but want to surge forward and press your lips against the expanse of that pretty neck, leave darker marks than the ones that were already bruising his collarbone, but his hand held you in place.
Sure, you could have moved if you wanted to, but you both knew how this worked: he got off on knowing all he needed was one hand to get you to submit, and you got off on knowing that he could get you to submit in other ways, too.
“Let me kiss you.”
Your voice was rough, soft, almost whiny as you let yourself grind shamelessly against him, a litany of whimpers threatening to escape you. But Jeonghan only watched, that wretched hand applying just-enough-but-not-quite pressure on your throat and his head tilted to the side as he exhaled another drag.
“Jeonghan, please.”
You’re sure he could see the impatience on every line of your body, from your bitten lips to your dress’ straps finally giving out on you. From the dress now rucked up almost to your hips, giving him a view of the black lace underneath. But still he watched, before taking another drag, and your impatience finally turned to desperation just as-
Jeonghan pulled you closer to him by your neck, smoke still escaping his lips in thin billows, pressing his lips harshly to your own as he continued grinding against your body, matching your pace almost perfectly.
“Can’t say no to you when you look at me like that now, can I?”
old piece, repurposed for our lovely boyo <3 I enjoyed editing this to suit Jeonghan very much! Hopefully I post here more often haha
i'd love to hear feedback, so do comment and reblog!
