Half-Awake, All Yours
—MDNI—
pairing: bangchan x Fem.Reader
genre: smut
tags: morning sex, emotional intimacy, soft sex
cw: NSFW, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it)
WC: 822
synopsis: You should both be sleeping. But with his voice low and his touches soft, how could you ever say no?
You didn’t know what woke you first — the warm sunlight bleeding in through the curtains or the slow, sleepy pressure of Chan’s hips rocking gently into yours from behind.
Still half-asleep, you felt the weight of his arm slung low across your waist, pulling you back into the firm heat pressed against your backside. The room was quiet, still wrapped in the hush of early morning, but you could feel him — thick and hard, grinding slowly into you like his body was moving before his mind had caught up.
“Channie…” you whispered, voice barely there.
He made a soft sound in your ear — not quite awake, but aware enough to hum in response. His lips brushed the back of your shoulder, warm breath fanning over your skin.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, voice low and rough from sleep. “Just… couldn’t help it.”
You shifted your hips back, just slightly, letting him slide more firmly against your center. You were already damp, your body responding on instinct to the familiar weight and warmth of him pressed against you.
“You’re not really sorry,” you teased softly.
“No,” he admitted with a lazy smile. “Not even a little.”
His hand slipped under your sleep shirt, splaying wide across your stomach before dragging down slowly — so slow — until his fingers dipped between your legs and found you warm and wet for him.
“Baby…” he groaned, voice rasping. “You’re already so ready.”
You let out a soft gasp when he pressed one thick finger inside you, then another, curling them just enough to make your thighs tremble.
The motion of his hips never stopped — slow, teasing thrusts of his cock still hidden beneath thin boxers, dragging against your ass with every motion.
“Need to feel you,” he whispered, lips ghosting your ear.
He shifted just enough to tug his boxers down, rolling a condom on from the drawer beside the bed with practiced ease. Then he was nudging at your entrance, his thick length pressing slowly inside, inch by inch, until he bottomed out with a low, breathless moan.
You both stilled.
The stretch, the warmth, the deep fullness of him inside you — it was overwhelming in the quiet, surrounded by early light and the steady beat of his heart against your back.
“I love mornings like this,” he whispered, arms wrapping tight around your body. “When you’re soft and sleepy and all mine.”
He started to move — slow, rocking thrusts that barely pulled out before sliding deep again. Each stroke was patient, deliberate, dragging every bit of pleasure out like he had all the time in the world.
Your moans were soft, caught between sleep and sensation. You reached back to curl your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him even closer, needing him everywhere.
Chan buried his face in the crook of your neck, breath hot, lips brushing your skin with every ragged exhale.
“You feel like heaven,” he whispered. “So warm, so perfect.”
He moved deeper now, his pace still slow but more purposeful — grinding against your sweet spot with every stroke. His hand moved up to cup your breast under your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple as his hips rocked into you.
The tension built gradually, your body trembling as he filled you again and again, coaxing soft gasps and breathless whimpers from you with every thrust.
“Gonna come for me, baby?” he murmured.
“Just like this? Wrapped up in my arms?”
You nodded helplessly, the orgasm cresting like a wave.
And when it hit, it was quiet but intense — your body clenching tight around him, your breath caught in your throat, hips jerking softly as you rode out every wave. Chan held you through it, whispering sweet things against your skin.
“Good girl… that’s it… let me feel you.”
He chased his own release a few thrusts later, groaning your name as he spilled into the condom, body tensing behind you before finally collapsing into a warm, spent heap.
Neither of you moved for a long moment. He stayed inside you, holding you close, breath evening out against your shoulder.
“I could stay here forever,” he whispered.
You smiled sleepily. “Then do it.”
And he did — tangled up in you, skin on skin, not in a rush to leave the warmth you made together.
