#DRUNKTOBER2021

[sunlightheidi]

2. Jumin Han

1. Jaehee Kang

Written for DRUNKTOBER2021 event hosted by myself and @quirky-and-kind, all fics created will be NSFW and tagged #twalcohol.

Sometimes, Jumin likes to play indifferent; touches your skin with his fingertips and places soft kisses to your mouth, tastes your chapstick on his tongue and pretends he’s not desperate to feel you underneath him until you say please.

Tonight is different.

You sit on his lap on the couch, knees on either side of his hips, strong hands under the silk of your dress – steady and possessive as he traces the curve of your waist. He looks up at you through hooded eyes, bright and silver like moonlight and dazed from the wine you shared.

You want to taste that sweet wine straight from his mouth as he begs prettily for you.

“Tell me what you want.” You run a hand up his naked chest, his shirt long discarded and thrown over the couch. Your husband is the sort to take everything off, one piece at a time, once his skin gets too hot.

He hums in acknowledgement, low in his throat, in the way he knows makes your stomach tighten. His warm breath teases against the crook of you neck before he gently wraps his fingers around your wrist, keeping you close. “I need to feel you.”

“Is that so?” you purr, a slender finger moving to trace along his jawline. His eyes flutter closed at your touch, thick eyelashes, ink-black against his cheek.

“There is not a moment when I don’t,” is all he manages to say, but something dark and decisive flashes in his eyes when they open – confident and dominant as he grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. It’s desperate, all teeth and hurried moans as you taste the remnants of black cherries on his tongue.

You kiss for what feels like hours. Until you’re both breathless and breaking apart only to gaze at one another in a wine-drunk desire before his lips continue to taste your skin.

You grind against him as he kisses down your jaw, feeling the wetness pooling between your thighs and dripping into his slacks. You reach between your bodies, fingers working at the closure of his pants to pull him out, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock as you start to pump him slowly.

He presses his lips to the side of your neck and sucks hard, the sound of your groan vibrating through your body.

You need more, more, more.

You align his length with your center, the head of his cock teasing against your wet folds as he moans against you, earning him another knowing smirk. “Say please,” you say sweetly, free hand tracing the ridges of his muscles.

Jumin grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Stop teasing.”

Eyes go wide, pupils dilate at his dominance, knowing the flush of your cheeks gives away exactly what you think of it. He's taken back the control and you give it away willingly as you sink down on him, agonizingly slowly.

You don’t bother taking any time to adjust and start moving immediately. His eyes roll back in time with the roll of your hips as he palms at your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. Lust overtakes you, primal and raw, as he shifts to grip your waist, holding you in place as he thrusts roughly into you from underneath.

You move faster, wanting to tempt him straight to the edge and watch as he goes over, want him to regain control and lose it over and over again,

“A masterpiece,” he growls into your neck. “You look so beautiful taking your pleasure from me. I never tire of it.”

He adjusts his angle and you moan loudly, instantly leaning forward to start kissing and sucking at his skin, hips rolling unabashedly at the thought of marking him, of giving him a reminder to look at tomorrow while he sits pretty behind the desk he loves to fuck you on.

Jumin slowly moves a hand up your body, massaging your breast before trailing up and stopping at your neck, praising you as he tightens the grip around your throat just slightly.

“That’s it. Just like that, darling.”

Your motions start to falter as you feel the urge to press yourself harder against him, desperate for more friction right before breaking into a shaking, gasping mess, collapsing into his arms as he wraps them around you, tangling a hand in your hair and pressing kisses to your temple.

He sings quiets praises in your ear, whispering how good you feel, how thankful he is to be able to witness you coming undone for him, how he wishes to commit all of it to memory—your heaving chest, the wetness between your bodies, the sounds you make as you come down from the high.

When you open your eyes and meet his own, he crashes his lips against yours – hungry and desperate – and firmly grabs the back of your trembling thighs to stand from the couch, waits for you to wrap your legs around his waist, his cock still aching and hard inside your fluttering walls.

“Let’s take this to our bedroom, my love. I am not finished with you quite yet.”

header created by my platinum blonde, suit wearing, midnight soulmate @luxielle | divider by @firefly-graphics

[sunlightheidi]

6. Saeran Choi (SE)

5. Saeyoung Choi

Masterlist: DRUNKTOBER 2021

Written for #DRUNKTOBER2021, a collaboration with @quirky-and-kind. All fics created will be NSFW and tagged #twalcohol.

He throws on his boots and a flimsy jacket and quietly slips into one of Saeyoung’s cars; reverses out of the garage without knowing where he’s headed.

He drives into the city and parks in an alley, takes a few deep breaths before he throws the hoodie over the red and bleached clash of his hair and steps out into the street. The lights are too bright and the people laughing make him feel like something is crawling out of his skin.

He walks with his head down as he weaves through the crowd, heads straight to the bricked building and doesn’t even look up when he taps his foot twice against your door.

It’s not the first time he’s been at your apartment – you’ve fucked on the couch more times than he can count – but it is the first time he’s shown up here unexpectedly.

There’s a dazed look to you when you open the door, a silk nightgown wrapped around you, hair flowing down your back as you look him up and down – eyes slowly tracing him before you find exactly what you’re looking for and motion for him to follow you to the living room.

“Saeran, what are you doing here?” you ask, and he notices the higher pitch of your voice, the very slight slur in your sentences, the single empty wine glass on your coffee table.

He considers telling you the truth but he shrugs instead. “You said I could come here whenever I wanted.”

Eyes widen in surprise, before a smile reaches your lips; teasing, coaxing (seeing right through him). “I did, didn’t I? Was there something you had in mind?”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t bother pretending he hasn’t spent all fucking week with his hand on his dick as he thought about you underneath him.

He sits on the couch and grips your thighs, pulls you roughly towards him, and you land right on his lap with one leg on either side, straddling him.

He kisses you until your hands are tugging at his shirt and his have undone your robe and wander underneath your nightgown. Until you are moaning into his mouth, and he bites his tongue until it bleeds, just so he won’t say something stupid – like how he had needed an escape and he found himself in your doorway without fully understanding why.

Suddenly, you get off his lap and stand back, just out of his reach, head cocking to the side as you take him in; his back against the couch, ragged shirt, messy hair, clenched fists.

“Hmm, I want to play a game, but you’re not very good at following orders, are you?” you tease, delighted in the fact that you alone have done this to him. It angers him sometimes, how easily you can push him over the edge into this reckless abandon of frustration and need. “Is it that difficult to keep your hands to yourself?”

Fuck, he doesn’t know the answer. Knows the reality doesn’t quite match up with what he wants to say; can't seem to come up with a smart-ass response to hide how untethered he really is.

“Stop teasing,” he growls, hips betraying the desperation in him as they thrust against nothing.

A slow, sultry smile before your hand reaches out to palm at his hardness. “Didn’t take you for the begging type, babe.”

He knows immediately he’s fucked, knows it even more when a cheeky smile stretches across your face. You’re so composed, standing there in front of him like you have all the time in the world and this is simply a minor inconvenience for you.

“I don’t beg.”

“Is that so?” You take a step closer, studying him. See the way his eyes harden in anticipation, the restrained intake of breath, almost a plea. “Should we put those words to the test?”

You drop to your knees languidly, still too far away, and look up at him through thick lashes, tongue rolling across your lips just enough to moisten them and state your intent. “Tell me what you want, Saeran. Ask politely.”

His name sounds obscene in your mouth. “I—” His brain and his body are at war, too much information to process that he can’t find the words, can’t formulate a single coherent thought.

“I’m on my knees in front of you and you can’t think of a single thing you’d like me to do?”

“Use your mouth,” he demands.

“That’s not very specific. There’s lots of things my mouth can do.”

“Yeah, like talk a lot of shit,” he responds tartly.

“Yes, but that’s nowhere near as much fun as the others” You huff a laugh as you move close enough to rake your fingernails down his thighs. “Jeans off.”

You’re still staring up at him from the place on the floor, your rapt attention doing fuck-all to help the way his hands are trembling.

“You could make yourself useful and help me,” he quips. Another failed attempt at the button before he finally gets it; something between a relieved groan and a hiss as he drags the zipper over his strained erection.

“Would you rather I undo your pants or make you come down my throat?”

Saeran is too dazed to answer, not responding and moving instead to palm himself.

The first stroke brings such relief he’s certain he’s going to black out. A loud, unabashed moan comes with the second. The third has that familiar heat pooling in his belly as he keeps working himself over, and it’s not a second later that you lean forward and envelop the tip of him into your mouth.

Guiding your mouth onto him, he lets out a satisfied groan as his cock glides against your wet tongue. Wrapping your soft lips around him, you pump him in hand as your mouth works the rest of him.

Saeran bucks his hips up slightly, desperate for you to take more of him. You let out a silent gag as he hits the back of your throat, contracting around him as he tangles his other hand in your hair.

"Shit, more…” He moans through gritted teeth.

Back and forth on his ever-hardening length, your mouth envelops him, mouth vibrating as you moan and mewl around him. Your saliva trails down his length as you drive him over and over, fingernails digging into the flesh of his thighs as you suck him from base to tip, releasing him with a pop.

“Come here,” He growls, low in his throat as he tugs you up onto his lap again, his cock pulsing in between your thighs. “I want to fuck you now.”

header created by my Bacardi wife @luxielle | divider by @firefly-graphics

[sunlightheidi]

8. Jihyun Kim "V"

7. Zen

Masterlist: DRUNKTOBER 2021

Written for #DRUNKTOBER2021, a collaboration with @quirky-and-kind. All fics created will be NSFW and tagged #twalcohol.

A/N: Last one, friends. Enjoy!

It’s thrilling seeing him this way, your calm and soft-spoken lover becoming completely unraveled at your gentle coaxing.

Drunken and dizzy and carefree, he’s glowing, shining under the club’s neon lights – so, so bright with rose red blossoming over his cheeks, flustered and slightly dazed from his whiskey and the sugary-sweetness of the drink he’s tasted straight from your lips all night.

Exhilarated, he moves your body with his, hands on your waist and a leg in between your thighs; flush and hot and perfectly fitted as his heart thrums under your palm to the heavy bass of the music – it echoes through your ears and makes the entirety of your body hum in euphoria.

You give in then, push your face into his neck, tonguing the ridges of his pulsing throat, marking him up with your tongue then your teeth.

“You’re insatiable,” he chides half-heartedly, voice low and barely audible against your ear. “People are staring.”

You know they’re not – most are dancing or too busy making out with their own partners – but god, he’s dazzling and vivid and you want them to see; want to mark him until it’ll be obvious to everyone once the lights come on just who it is he belongs to.

“That’s good, let them look.” You whisper against him, and he curses quietly, shuddering when you lick a particularly sensitive spot – the one right at the juncture of his neck and collarbone that makes goosebumps explode down his arms and makes him tighten his hold on you.

Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before Jihyun pushes you back and catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, he grabs the back of your neck in one large, warm hand your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest on his shoulders before one reaches up and cups his face, trailing your fingertips through the sharpness of his jaw.

“Come with me,” he whispers, hooded eyes and pupils blown – you’re galvanized by him.

Jihyun tugs you through the crowd, hand entwined with yours as he leads you to the back of the club and into a single restroom. Once the door shuts behind him and he tugs on it to make sure it’s locked, you’re seated on the sink, pressed up against the dirty mirror, purse and keys clattering onto the tile.

“What do you want from me?” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, fitting himself in between your knees. The vibration of his voice tumbles into your ears and down the length of your spine, spinning the weight in your stomach into a typhoon.

“Everything.”

He smiles, cruel and hungry at the way you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist and tug him down by his hair to kiss him.

You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow, tongue flicking over the corner of his mouth. You can’t stop kissing him, hands tug his hair harder and your teeth pinch his bottom lip. Jihyun responds by growling softly, biting you back, squeezing your thighs before easing you to the edge of the sink, pressing his hardness against your panties.

Trembling, you slip your hands under his button up and touch the smooth planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen and the way they contract under your touch. Breathless and wild, he weaves one hand in between your bodies, slips it under your skirt to feel your center. Your underwear is soaked; has been since you were grinding on his thigh in the middle of the dancefloor.

“Baby,” he sighs into your neck, begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers. “Already so wet...”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts above your blouse, nipping at the soft flesh.

Soft moans and damp gasps, he works his way into you, fingers first. One, then two, then three because he’s always captivated by the way you unravel for him so quickly. Doesn’t even care about himself most times, even though you plead with me, Jihyun, come with me.

“Feel good?” Jihyun asks, voice raspy. You’re a mess now, hips stuttering against his hand as you gasp and keen and whimper.

You do. Oh, you do, and he knows. He knows everything about you and knows exactly what you want when you writhe this way. The mischievous chuckle that pours from his throat vibrates against your chest.

“I’ll give it to you,” he mumbles against your lips before he reaches down and undoes his pants, tugs them down enough to grip his cock in one hand and moves your panties to the side with the other, hips inching closer and straightening himself until you’re aligned perfectly.

Strong and velvet, easily slick with wet from how he’s coaxed you open, he slides in. All the way. That swell. That hurt. The throb of him pumping into you. His voice, quaking just a little bit, simmering low and then broken; sung praises and ramblings of a man far gone as he moves inside you.

Hips rolling this way and that, bucking slow but steady, and hard, too, his pelvis flush against yours with each contact. Your fingertips dig gently to anchor yourself.

You swallow his voice, his rhythm, still greedy for more because you need him—open, taken, devastated.

“Take all of me,” he whispers, “I want you to have it all.”

Jihyun. Jihyun. Jihyun.

He holds fast one final time, kissing your crumbling mouth, quivering, lips swollen and kiss-bruised. All of you and all of him folding in over each other, dashing yourselves onto an undoing so complete you burst apart. And then, he plummets, too, shuddering and wrecked; he smiles softly against your mouth – sweet and lopsided and beautiful.

Entirely yours.

header created by my Queen Frostine @luxielle | divider by @firefly-graphics

[sunlightheidi]

MASTERLIST

[*COMPLETED: 10/28/2021]

Clouded thoughts, fevered kisses, wandering hands - that first taste is always so sweet, isn’t it?

Eight drunken stories with each member of the RFA.

A collaboration with @quirky-and-kind

*All fics created will be NSFW with mentions of alcohol. #DRUNKTOBER2021, #twalcohol.

1. Jaehee Kang 🤍

2. Jumin Han 🖤

3. Yoosung Kim 🤍

4. Vanderwood 🖤

5. Saeyoung Choi 🤍

6. Saeran Choi (SE) 🖤

7. Zen 🤍

8. Jihyun Kim "V" 🖤

🖤 ~ written by Heidi

🤍 ~ written by Lea

All headers created by @luxielle, dividers by @firefly-graphics.