leehan has this way of loving you that makes you feel heavy, vulnerable, suffocated in the best way possible. with wide, watery eyes, he stares at you like you raise the sun and lower the moon, even now, when you have him pinned against the wall and your hand working his cock rapidly.
his head is leaning back against the surface, but his glossy eyes are locked on you. you want to shy away from all that adoration, but it's useless – your eyes always fall back on leehan, leaking with every gross, lovesick emotion you could ever feel for another person because you're no better than him.
his hips are meeting you halfway, thrusting into your palm. his neck is flushed and decorated with bruises you sucked into it moments prior, and weak, raspy noises leave it continuously. you lean up to suck more kisses onto it, lick stripes along his adam's apple, and he groans at the feeling.
you pull away to see the new marks already coloring, shiny with saliva, and you reach up to wipe the area clean. your hand falters on his cock, distracted, and it's like something else is controlling you when your fingers drag across his throat again, feeling at the bump protruding from it. you lightly press on it.
leehan huffs out a deep breath, and you tear your eyes away from his throat to look back at his face. his eyebrows are furrowed in a silent plea, so you try it again, pressing your thumb against his throat a little harder. you're careful not to actually hurt him, and your breath catches at the way his eyelashes flutter.
you position your hand so your palm is touching his adams apple, hand wrapped around his throat, and look at him again, check in on him.
“is this okay?” you ask, voice quiet and gentle. his eyelids are lower now, quivering like he's struggling to keep them open. his nod is short, movements restricted by your hand. he swallows, and you're addicted to the way you can feel his throat constrict and release under your hold. his hands are resting on your hips, so you bring one up and wrap it around your wrist. he lets you guide him easily, body pliant where it's slumped against the wall.
“will you tap me if you want me to stop?” you ask just loud enough so he can hear you, because you're afraid the air will crumble to pieces around you if you disturb it. he lets out a faint, breathless “okay,” a tiny vibration against your palm that makes your panties wetten.
your fingers squeeze around his throat lightly, just to test the waters, and leehan's eyes flutter shut again. you give him a second to regain himself, and when his eyes open up again, falling onto your own, you wrap your free hand back around his cock.
his breath catches at the feeling, and he lets out a shaky sigh as you start a slow pace. you speed up gradually, and when your pace is back to how it started, rapid and relentless, only stopping every so often to thumb along his tip, you tighten your grasp on his neck, feel the delicate structure in your hold.
leehan's head knocks back against the wall, pretty eyes squeezing shut and grip on your wrist tightening. you pay close attention to see if he'll tap you, if he needs you to stop, but he doesn't.
“look at me, hannie.” you whisper. you're not sure he heard you, but after a couple of seconds, his eyelids flutter open. they're lower now, from the force of his creased eyebrows, threatening to close again. it's surprising – leehan is usually the one advocating for eye contact, but he can barely keep his eyes open. it's powerful to strip away the one demand he always gives you, to flip the switch and give it to him instead. you loosen your hold on his throat and rub the head of his dick again, gentler this time, because he's trying to say something.
“breathe, c-can’t–” he gasps out, hips rocking into your touch desperately. his voice is hoarse, words broken up as you continue stroking his cock, squeezing around it lightly, squeezing around his throat simultaneously, cutting off whatever else he had to say.
precum is leaking from his tip, spreading along your hand and his shaft, making your strokes messy and smooth. you lean up to speak near his ear.
“you're so tender like this, with your life in the palm of my hand. d’you like it, hannie?” leehan likes when your voice is soft but teasing, whispering dirty words where only he can hear, so that's what you do.
his response is just a pathetic string of choked-off noises, nails digging into your wrist. he's stunning, but you tell him he looks pathetic, watch as the words settle along his skin. his mouth is hanging open uselessly, drool running down his chin. you attach your lips to his, kissing him roughly, while he pants into your mouth, desperate for the little air he can get.
he’s trembling, grip sporadic as it tightens and loosens around your wrist. you watch as his eyes roll back into his head. his cock is hot and heavy in your hand, and it twitches right before he's spurting cum all over your palm. you release his throat, using your now free hand to press his hips against the wall as you work him through it. his throat is scratchy, whines breathless as he weakly tries to push your hand away from his overstimulated cock.
you kiss away stray tears that fell at some point and left streaks behind on his cheeks, rubbing his shoulders soothingly as he catches his breath. he's just as beautiful now, face pink and eyes sparkling with stars in them, and you bask in it, sure that your own eyes are shining with love as well.
✧･ﾟ: *
a/n : a leehan choking fic that literally no one asked for, if you sent an ask i'm working on it sweeties <33 pls lmk if u read this & see any typos
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