#yeonsieun

ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ ♬⋆.˚ Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵁᵖ ♬⋆.˚ Coming Down - The Weeknd

The window stood open, the cool night breeze slipping quietly through the room, soft enough to clash with the sharp expression set on your face.

It was already past midnight.

Sieun sat at his desk, surrounded by scattered papers and highlighted notes, the low voice of a woman explaining calculus from his laptop filling the otherwise silent apartment. His father had gone to sleep not long ago, leaving the house drowned in familiar night silence.

The dim desk lamp highlighted the tired shadows across Sieun’s face, but his expression stayed razor-sharp, completely focused on his notes. His pen moved steadily across the page while his eyes scanned formulas like he’d forget how to breathe before he forgot an answer.

Across from him you sat on his bed. Phone open.

Your phone rested loosely in your hand as you mindlessly scrolled through it, barely paying attention to anything actually on the screen. Every few seconds, your eyes drifted back to Sieun instead.

Watching the way his expression tightened when he focused. The absentminded way he ran a hand through his hair while rereading a page. The way he leaned back in his chair every now and then.

And somehow, that only made your annoyance worse.

You’ve been silently mad at him for the past few days, and it shows in everything you do. The way you ignore his messages, the way you look away the second he tries to make eye contact, the cold two word replies to anything he says.

Sieun tried bringing it up. Tried talking to you about it more than once, calm as always, like he could just solve it if you’d give him something to work with, but you refused every time. You didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to explain anything, just stayed stubborn and distant no matter how many times he tried.

And still, he didn’t give up. Of course he didn’t. He had the patience of a saint when it came to you. He just took it, let you be annoyed, let you push him away, stayed there anyway like it didn’t bother him. But everyone had a limit eventually, even him.

The worst part was that the reason you were mad at him in the first place was so stupid. Too stupid to even say out loud without sounding insane. He had left you on delivered for hours on Monday.

You glance back down at your phone, thumb moving aimlessly across the screen as your thoughts drift.

The sound of his desk chair sliding slightly across the floor breaks the quiet.

Still, you don’t look up.

“Do you want a snack?” Sieun’s calm voice cuts through the room.

“No,” you answer flatly without even sparing him a glance.

“You sure?” he asks after a beat. “You haven’t really eaten much today.”

Silence.

You keep your eyes on your phone, pretending to be absorbed in it.

Sieun exhales softly through his nose, a quiet sigh lingering between you. You don’t notice him stand up until he’s suddenly right in front of you, close enough that your attention finally snaps off your phone.

He steps in without hesitation, pushing your knees apart with his own as he settles over you. Your back meets the mattress, the movement so sudden it steals the rest of your breath, and you look up at him, still caught off guard.

As he holds himself above you, using his hands on either side of your body, he dips his head lower and places a gentle kiss against your neck. So soft that you feel your attitude begin to melt away. Damn this guy and his softness.

His lips were warm against your skin, using your neck as a canvas for his soft kisses. Pressing each one like it was wrapped in an apology he didn’t know how to form out loud.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he says between soft pecks, his voice calm as ever. Low, velvety, like it settles right under your skin and caresses the insides of your ears.

“Nothing,” you lie instantly.

“You know I can’t help you if you don’t explain,” he says, pulling back just enough that your faces are only inches apart now, his gaze steady on you.

You stay quiet for a moment, then finally give in.

“You left me on delivered. On Monday.”

The second it leaves your mouth, you internally regret it. It sounds so stupid out loud.

Sieun raises a brow, genuinely confused.

“I see you every day,” he says simply.

“That’s not the point,” you murmur, frustration creeping back in. “You always do this. You just analyze everything instead of acting like my boyfriend.”

There’s the smallest shift in his expression at the word boyfriend—so subtle you almost miss it. Like it catches him off guard for half a second. Softening the look in his eyes. He loved when you called him that. Even though you’ve already been dating for months, it never fails to make him happy.

Then he leans in again.

“I am acting like your boyfriend,” he says quietly, so softly it feels like his voice alone is creating an enclosed, intimate space between the two of you.

And before you can respond, he kisses you. Soft, gentle, cutting off whatever you were about to say. His kiss starts soft. Against the exterior of your mouth. Like he’s probing and eating at any ounce of attitude you may have left in your body.

Then, it turns hungry. Deliberate. Yet still intimately slow. His tongue darts out at your mouth and you part your lips, kissing back with the same hunger in your body. Your tongues swirl around each other in a dance.

The moment is quiet, except for the soft sounds of wet kissing and the laptop still playing on the desk.

“You’re annoying me,” you say, the protest weak and forced, like you don’t even believe it yourself. You say it, then don’t move away, not really meaning it in the way your words suggest.

“Mm,” he hums in response, clearly unconvinced, almost amused by how little effort you’re putting into staying mad at him. Resuming his tongue kisses.

His hand moves lightly between your bodies, brushing over your skin in a way that makes you shiver. It traces the goosebumps that rise there, like he’s noticing every small reaction you try to hide. His fingers unbutton your pants, followed by the low sound of the zipper sliding down. You lift your hips instinctively. Your body knows exactly what it needs. Soon, your pants end up by the bed.

His fingers hook into the hem of your panties. “Off,” he says simply, and you comply immediately. Your panties join your pants on the floor.

“Let’s see how well that attitude holds up,” he says casually as he kneads your thighs, his fingers digging into them until your breath catches in your chest.

He makes his way down, fingers ghosting down your body, moving slowly on purpose. Making your body instinctively writhe under him. Your breathing coming out in uneven sharp exhales.

“This… won’t make me nicer,” you manage to murmur between uneven breaths, already overwhelmed.

“Mm, I’m sure, baby,” he answers simply, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of his lips. One hand gently pries your thighs apart, pushing one back.

His fingers glide gently down your already wet slit, the moisture gathering on his fingertips. His throat works as he bites back a groan, the feel of your slickness on his fingers already tenting his pants.

“You’re soaked,” he breathed. The tip of his finger brushed gently over your sensitive nerve bud, so lightly it felt like he was testing the waters before overwhelming your body. Earning a soft gasp from you.

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, continuing his gentle circles over your bundle of nerves. Your body jolted at the sensation, heat rushing through you instantly. You had to stay quiet, careful not to wake Sieun’s dad. But, fuck it wasn’t easy. “You’re being so needy.”

He lifts his hand to your mouth, his ring and middle fingers extended.

“Open,” he says, parting your lips with them. You comply, and he slides his fingers into your mouth, wetting them with your own saliva. “You gonna be quiet for me?”

You nod with his fingers still in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around them as you suck gently, and he groans in response. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath. You taste yourself faintly on his fingers before he pulls them out, your saliva glistening in the dim light of the room. He purposefully grinds his hard outline against your thigh, making you feel it. “See what you’re doing to me?” he says, straining against his pants.

His fingers find your heat. Slowly, teasingly, he traces gentle circles around your sensitive entrance, keeping you waiting. You shudder at the feeling, hips bucking instinctively toward his hand. His gaze was piercing but calm, pinning you to the bed without him having to move at all.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His fingers kept you right on the edge, not moving an inch away or an inch closer to where you most needed them.

“Sieun, please…” you pleaded, breathless. You clenched around nothing at the attention to your sensitive center.

“Please…” he simply echoed.

“Please…” you repeated.

“You don’t deserve it.” He pulls his fingers away completely, depriving you of a single touch again. “Earn it.”

“Sieun…” your voice comes out weaker than you intend, more like a whine than anything else.

He looks at you with a interested expression.

Your earlier attitude is completely gone now, replaced by something softer. More desperate, in a way you hate how easily he can draw it out of you.

“No,” he says quietly. The rejection stings deep in your bones.

You frown, frustration flaring all over again. “You’re being mean.”

A faint breath leaves him that almost sounds amused.

“You were ignoring me for three days,” he reminds you calmly, one hand brushing lightly against your thigh. “I think I’m allowed to enjoy this a little.”

He suddenly sits up, moving back against the headboard of the bed and settling there instead. You stare at him for a second, confusion immediately crossing your face at the sudden distance between you. Until he taps his lap once.

“Come here,” another tap.

You obey immediately, crawling across the bed toward him without even thinking about it. Your cleavage was on full display as you bent over. And his throat moved as he swallowed his breath. Gaze never leaving yours.

The mattress dips softly beneath you as you move back into his space, your earlier annoyance completely melted away by now.

The second you reach him, Sieun’s hands settle on your waist and he effortlessly pulls you onto his lap, turning you so your back rests flush against his chest. He pulls your shirt off, unhooks your bra, and tosses it to the side right after.

You let out a small breath at the sudden cold breeze surrounding you from the open window. Brushing your most sensitive areas, making your sensitive peaks harden against it.

With a rough hand, he immediately kneads your chest. His warm breathing skims against the back of your neck and ears as he speaks, voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Spread your legs,” he says, tapping your thighs. You do as he says. He lifts your knees, your feet settling on either side of his thighs. “Good girl.”

A hand slowly slips down your chest and stomach, and you watch it happen almost distantly, like it belongs more to the shadow behind you than to Sieun himself. You can’t see his face from this angle, but somehow that only makes it worse.

Because even without looking, you know that faintly amused expression is there. He was enjoying this.

His hand dips lower and his fingertips find your sensitive nerves, tracing it gently. A soft, uneven breath slips from you at the sensation, your head tilting back instinctively against his shoulder, like your body is searching for something steady to hold onto in the moment.

“You want them inside, baby?” he asks and you nod.

In a steady line moving downwards, his fingers find your entrance and gently slide two fingers in. You buck your hips forward, and he presses a hand to your stomach, pinning you back against him. “Ah, ah, don’t move,” he orders softly into your ear. “patience,” he reassures from behind.

He starts pumping his fingers in a controlled, slow rhythm—in and out—drawing those long-awaited moans from your mouth. With each stroke, your walls clench tighter around him. He groans softly, feeling your body respond. He curls his fingers inside you, picking up speed as he goes.

The sounds he pulls from you are unholy. Without pausing for a second, his other hand moves to your face, his palm covering your mouth and muffling the noise. As soon as you’re silenced, his fingers move even faster, wet sounds echoing off the walls. Squelch, squelch. Coupled with his rough, low groans and your uneven breathing.

“Mmphm…” you moan into his palm, hips bucking against his fingers as your back arches off his chest. Your hips move to his rhythm, but you have none of his control. You’re sloppy, desperate, overwhelmed. Meanwhile, Sieun stays completely focused, hitting the exact spot that has you seeing stars every time. “Good girl, fuck yourself against my fingers,” his whispered encouragement into your ears only makes your hips stagger a little.

“Fuck, you hear that?” he let’s out a shaking breath from behind as the wet noises turn even more obscene. Even without seeing it, anyone could paint a clear picture of how lewd it was from the sounds alone.

Your breath hitched as your thighs suddenly started twitching in response to the continues play against your sweet spot. “Mm, that’s it…” he hums in response.

Feeling your body about to reach the edge, he suddenly pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty, clenching around nothing. Your breath hitches and your thighs tremble. A whine escapes your mouth as your hips buck, chasing his touch.

Like if you reach them fast enough, he’ll take pity on you and fill you up again.

He slides them back in just as suddenly, not for your sake, and starts pumping and curling them at the same relentless pace. Your hips snap back, and your body jolts at the shock to your nerves.

He lets go of your mouth, and his hand cups one of your breasts, settling there warm against the softness of it.

He rolls one of your sensitive peaks between his fingers and places wet open mouthed kisses against the side of your neck. “So sensitive and responsive…”

“Fuck, Sieun… I’m gonna…” and suddenly you’re right back at the edge, about to cross it once more.

He pulls his fingers out again, and this time your whine is louder, followed by a wet whimper. “Please, please, please…” you plead, your voice hanging in the thick intimacy of the room.

“You’ll cum when I allow it,” he replies, unbuttoning his pants as he speaks. He pulls them down just enough, his already painfully hard shaft springing free and settling between your folds on his lap. “Stay still for me, baby.”

Rubbing soothing circles into your thighs with his thumbs, he aligns the head of his length with your entrance and eases in. You let out a moan, and he covers your mouth instantly.

As he sinks the rest of it in, it slides smoothly, without resistance. With a groan in your ear, he bottoms out and stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust and himself a chance to breathe. You look down, watching the mess between your bodies.

“Shit, you took it so well,” he murmurs, his chest rising against your back as he takes sharp breaths that feel cold against his teeth.

You feel each ridge against your interior. Each vein pulsating a different kind of need. And you react back. With the same pulsing beat.

For a moment, neither of you moves. Just staying there in the same quiet space, the distance from the past few days finally collapsing back into something close again.

You, still stubbornly silent. Him, letting you be.

His hand lingers on you, slow and steady, tracing soft, grounding circles against your thigh. After a beat, he starts moving, gently thrusting up into you.

You watch his shaft disappear inside you from above. His palm feels slick against your mouth, damp from where you drooled while moaning into it. You feel him twitch subtly inside you, like his body couldn’t wait to empty itself.

His groans are low—low enough that only you can hear them. It stays between the two of you, suspended in the dim, intimate light of the room like the rest of the world doesn’t exist outside of it. Each thrust inside you felt like he’s punishing you in his own way for ignoring him. Like he’s letting the tension speak where words failed earlier.

His hand finds your bud of nerves and he traces his fingers against it, along with his thrusts. You bite onto his palm and he lets out a pained grunt, pressing it further into your mouth. Just holding steady, like he’s refusing to give you the satisfaction of a reaction. Loving the way he was overwhelming your body with the doubled stimulation.

Moving his hand away, he plunges two fingers into your mouth. Making you gag roughly against them. Your sounds turning wet and choked.

“You… You were so confident ignoring me earlier.” he murmurs, breathlessly into your ear. “Now look at you.” His warm breath ghosts over the back of your neck and makes you shudder and buck against his shaft, taking him deeper accidentally. He bites back a moan. “You’re taking it so well for me.”

Another gag around his fingers sends a shudder down his body.

Sinking further into your warm velvety walls. Making a mess between your bodies, the sopping noises hang loosely in the room.

“You wanted my attention. You got it, baby,” he thrust upwards faster. The head of his length hitting your cervix making your back arch off of him with nowhere to go.

“Mmgh..” you muster up what sounded like a pathetic clogged whimper, your thighs spasming as you feel a continues teasing against your nerves down below. Moving his fingers even faster, his tongue darts out to lick the back of your neck. Like he’s tasting your consumption. Your body completely overcome.

Your thoughts only being him. Sieun, Sieun, and once again Sieun.

A soft sniffle escapes you, and he notices immediately. If anything, he only seems to double his efforts, more attentive now, as your eyes start to well up. Tears spill over despite you trying to hold them back, his hand still steady as if grounding you through it.

“No, don’t cry now… you can take it,” he murmurs softly, pressing a brief kiss to the back of your neck as you tremble in his arms. The sound of skin slapping against skin now prominent in the room as his thrusts get harder.

He was taking retaliation in his own way for ignoring him. And despite your disheveled state, you didn’t ask him to stop. Didn’t say the safe word. You wanted it. You liked it.

Your body shakes in small, uneven jolts, your breath unsteady as you try to hold yourself together. He doesn’t let go, keeping you anchored against him even as you lean forward slightly, your back slowly easing away from his chest in broken, unsteady movements. He throws his head back against the headboard and shudders against your body as you clench around him. As if by reflex, your body was milking him of every drop he had.

Finally, flooding all at once, you gush all over his shaft in an eruptive warm flow. Your breaths came out in sharp, uneven pulls despite his attempt to muffle the sound.

”Oh, fuck, there we go,” he praises from behind. His sheets were now completely soaked, the evidence of your pleasure having tainted them through to the other side. “Good girl, baby, such a good girl…”

Your movement looked like they were put in slow motion. As your high had left your head dizzy and clouded over how powerful it was.

He takes his time, lingering there as if he’s deliberately easing himself toward his own breaking point too. Like seeing you finally finish gave him the okay to start focusing on himself.

One of his hands finds your right thigh and he holds it back. He moves more urgently now. “Stay still, please,” he weakly pleads. You grip his forearm tightly, his hand locked around your thigh as he holds you open for himself. The muscles in his arm strain under the effort, veins standing out as his body tenses.

The bed creaked under the movement as he drove into you.

His hand now switched back to a flat palm against your wet mouth.

One twitch. Two. Three. You feel it all. And you know he’s about to make a bigger mess than you.

“Fuck…” he gasps, pulling out of you suddenly. And as soon as he does that, his release lands on your stomach immediately. With uneven yet powerful spurts. His hips stutter at the feeling.

His fingertips dig into your thighs, groans blessing your eardrums.

You can feel him trembling beneath you, tense and unsteady as he comes down from his high. “Oh, fuck…” he curses again.

You collapse into his lap and his head tips forward, his forehead resting against the back of your neck. Both of you are breathing unevenly, trying to catch your breath together in the same quiet moment.

Your bodies glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

Chests rising in heavy breaths.

He weakly lifts his head up, placing messy kisses against your sweaty face. Laying you flush against the mattress gently. He settles next to you, pulling you closer. Your head rests in the crook of his neck.

“You did so good, baby” he says quietly, brushing your hair back with a steady hand. “Breathe… it’s okay now.”

His touch is slow and reassuring, and the intensity from earlier begins to fade, replaced by something quieter and safer between you.

He reaches for a water bottle from the side table, helping you take a few sips.

He turns to place a kiss against your temple. “Let’s be honest when we’re sad, hm?”

You nod.

You both turn your attention to the laptop still playing the same calculus video. And he grins at you. “She has been talking the entire time.”

Which draws a soft shaky chuckle out of you.

The rest of the night settles into silence, the two of you curled up together in bed, finally still.

© geumnana ― 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ ♬⋆.˚ Adore You - Harry Styles (Literally just PERFECT)

ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵁᵖ ♬⋆.˚ Japanese Denim - Daniel Caesar

The grocery bags crinkle as you shove the door shut with your hip, almost dropping one of them. You shake your hair out of your face, some of it just sticks there anyway clinging to your eyes.

You quickly kick your shoes of at the door before heading into the kitchen to set the bags down on the counter. An easy smile on your face while you unpack.

“Sieun! Baby, I’m home!” you call out, your tone carrying through the apartment.

He usually came grocery shopping with you without you having to ask. Sieun didn’t like when you carried heavy bags alone. He especially hated when the plastic cut into your palms even if you promised him it was fine. Promptly urging him to pull the bags right out of your hands without allowing room for protest.

But today you insisted on going alone, pushing him back toward his desk and his unfinished work.

It doesn’t take long before you hear his footsteps.

The kitchen was open to the living room, one of those small yet cozy apartments, making you catch him in your peripheral vision. His cream quarter zip and sweats were still on from earlier. A slightly worn out look on his face coupled with faint tired shadows underneath his eyes.

Always from staring at documents and his laptop screen.

His hair was a slight mess, probably from running his hands through it far too much.

He pauses when he sees you. Just for a second.

“You carried everything okay?”

Placing the jar of strawberry jam down, you looked up at him and slightly rolled your eyes. Though there was a little smile on your face.

“Yes, I carried everything okay,” you reassure him, knowing how much he thinks of your comfort. “You worry too much.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

Sieun shakes his head.

“I just don't want you getting hurt.”

Your smile softens.

“I know.”

More groceries slowly spread across the marble countertop between you.

He leans over the island, forearms pressing into the cool surface. His sleeves were slightly pushed up, revealing how the muscles in his arms looked strained after spending the whole day hunched over his desk, typing away.

“I got a cupcake mix,” you continue, rummaging through another bag. “And frosting. Oh, and those little decorating things.”

He hums quietly.

“So we can make them together later.”

Another hum.

“And I got that strawberry jam you like.”

“Mm.”

“And hot chocolate since it’s so cold out—“

You pause.

“Baby.”

He isn't looking at the groceries.

His eyes are panning over you instead. The flushed look of your cheeks from the cold outside. The way your fingers carefully unpack each item. The smile on your face whenever you get lost in your own words.

Putting your arms around your chest, you cross them.

“Are you listening?” you raise an eyebrow.

“I am.”

“No, you're staring.”

A pause.

“Can I not do both?”

You smile despite trying to seem ticked off.

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

His voice is quiet, tired from work, but there's warmth in it.

“I like listening to you.”

You shake your head slightly and resume your unpacking.

His gaze drops briefly to your hands. At the pretty diamond sitting on your finger, catching the soft hue of the kitchen light, the promise ring he'd given you on your second anniversary.

His eyes linger there for a moment. Quietly in awe of everything. Such a minor detail, but the way it was resting so perfectly on your hand, it was a quiet reminder of a vow he'd made long ago. And he never regretted it.

Even now, watching you ramble about cupcake frosting, while unloading groceries in his hoodie with pink cheeks, the thought comes as easily as breathing.

Yeah. Her.

The same love he felt for you still deep within him. Within every inch of his body like you already owned him far beyond words could describe. Stronger now than ever.

He was sure about you. More sure than he's ever been about anything.

He rounds his way around the counter, watching you go on and on about a new Pocky flavor you were intrigued to try together, a smile playing at his lips. The corner of them lifting a little.

You look so cute. So perfect. Everything he needed in his life.

And craving you all day, was not making it any easier.

His need only doubled the moment you had walked out that door. Even while sitting at his desk, finishing up his last bit of work, his thoughts only kept drifting back to you. Always circling back to his beautiful girlfriend.

The way you’d laid so blissfully next to him in the morning. Lazily draped over the mattress, leg flung over him as you hugged him close. Face digging into his neck, close enough for him to smell your shampoo, like his chest was the only place you ever really wanted to be.

Which, naturally, made him sit restlessly waiting for you.

“—Right? It’s not crazy to say.”

His eyes flutter for a second as he snaps back from his thoughts, your voice cutting through the daydreams of how badly he wanted to sit you over that counter, wrap your legs around his waist and scatter your body with kisses and marks.

A dramatic sigh slips through you.

“You’re not even listening, I knew it,” you turn, already putting food away.

He pauses a moment trying to get his thoughts in line, string something coherent together that didn’t sound like he was caught lost of focus. Halfway between your words and his own reverie.

And yet, what he ends up saying is quite… unexpected?

“…You look beautiful.”

He catches you slightly off guard for a moment before you snap back in quite a stiff tone.

“Mhm.”

His eyes drift to the strawberry jam sitting on the counter. Without much thought, he twists it open and fishes a spoon out of the drawer, scooping up some and taking a bite straight from the jar.

The only person who could eat jam like that was Sieun. His hidden sweet tooth shamelessly came out around you.

And you had come to terms with that long ago.

He keeps picking at it inattentively, small bites here and there, his attention never leaving you. Eyes following you around the kitchen. The sway of your hair as you reach into the cabinets, the line of your back beneath his hoodie, the curve of your waist disappearing beneath soft fabric.

Putting the spoon aside, he swallows.

Something in him finally giving out. He couldn't keep his lips off of you any longer.

Sieun steps behind you as you reach into the fridge to slide a fresh carton of milk in, the cold air spilling out in between you. His hands find and settle at your waist, fingers tugging lightly at the hem of your hoodie before letting it fall back into place, like he’s toying with the idea for a second, teasing himself.

When he leans in, his breath brushes the back of your neck. Warm and soft, close enough that it changes the energy. Clashing with the cold waves coming from the fridge.

You feel it immediately, the way your skin reacts to his touch, small goosebumps rising along your arms as everything fades into something less important. Your thoughts tunneling in on the man behind you.

Pressed up against you.

“What’s gotten into you?” you ask, but you don’t move away.

He leans in and moves your hair to the side, pressing small kisses along the back of your neck, one after another, slow enough that it stops being accidental and starts being a choice he’s actively making.

His hands slide under your hoodie and stay there, fingers resting at your waist.

“Nothing,” he murmurs between kisses.

His crotch presses closer into you, making your breath catch as you felt his hard outline right against the curve of your ass.

“Doesn’t feel like nothing.”

He smiles against your neck, the corner of his mouth lifting from something only he knows, before his hands slide around you and turn you smoothly.

One arm slips around your waist as he crowds you against the wall, your back meeting the cool surface while his warmth closes in around you. His finger taps teasingly against the bottom of your chin, gently urging you to look up.

“Head up, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to make something flutter in your chest.

You take a second too long to process it.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

“C'mere.”

His fingers slip beneath your chin, tipping your face up for you before he closes the distance, kissing you slowly, sluggishly. It felt like the kiss itself was mirroring how he wanted to relish the way your mouth danced against his.

He'd spent the entire day thinking about this and was finally getting what he needed.

His head tilts slightly, deepening the kiss, his free hand settling at your hip, keeping you close against the wall.

And without missing a beat, you kiss him back instantly, just as desperate to have him close. With the same intensity. His lips felt soft against yours, wet, inviting.

“Sieun…” you echo his name softly.

“Mm,” he breathes, smiling against your mouth. “Baby…”

His mouth doesn't last long before it finds your neck. Peppering it with gentle kisses as he pulls your head back by your hair. Not aggressively, but more like he's softly reminding you he needed to claim every inch of you.

“You smell good,” he rasps against your skin, sucking mixes of blue, red and purple on your neck. Tongue licking right into the thumping, restless rhythm of your pulse.

Eventually biting just hard enough to make you gasp before sucking the spot gentle. He blows cool air over the wet, stinging skin, and a full body shiver ripples down your spine before he kisses it warm again.

There was clear tooth indents in your neck. A sheepish smile immediately finds his face, though it doesn't stop him from going right back to it. Kissing, nipping, and fussing over every patch of skin he could find, as though he couldn't decide where to give his attention first.

Lacing with his hair, your fingers twirl it, your other hand on his shoulder. Keeping yourself sturdy in the moment.

“You’re being a little… needy…” you murmur between soft breaths, the words brushing his ear.

Which, weirdly, only seems to make things... more demanding.

As though the second he loosened his hold, you'd somehow disappear back into that evil grocery store that had stolen you from him for two whole hours.

“I just missed you,” he confirms.

You let out a little breathy laugh, “I wasn’t even gone that long.”

“Long enough.”

His breath comes in warm, shallow puffs against your mouth, pupils blown wide as he holds your gaze, the soft curve of his lower lip still pink from kissing. The need in his stare is sharp, that familiar puppy look in his eyes. Edged with a quiet claim that makes your heart stutter.

“A little break?”

He manages a sound of protest, his mouth slots back over yours before the sound can fully leave you, one hand fisted tight in the back of your hoodie to keep you close. His chest heaves against yours, every ragged breath warm between your lips, and he doesn’t pull back even when his lungs burn for air.

“Baby, mmh—” you giggle, his thumb brushing slow over the curve of your jaw before pulling back.

An idea clear in his eyes.

He grabs the same spoon once again, scooping a tiny amount and holding it in front of your lips.

"What are you doing?"

"Open."

"Sieun."

"Baby."

"You were just kissing me till you could barely breathe and now you want me to do a taste test? I already know it tastes go—"

Before you could finish, he slips the spoon gently past your lips and you have no choice but to take it.

"Don't swa—"

Immediately, the jam is down your throat.

"Baby, let me finish," he lets out a little breathy sound, almost a laugh, and shakes his head. Giving you yet another spoonful.

"Keep it in your mouth," he puts the spoon back.

Attention turning to you again, that is if it had ever left, his lips finds yours once more.

Only then do you realize what he's doing. And you'd be lying if it didn't make some certain parts of you pulse in need.

His tongue slips past your parted lips. The taste of the strawberry jam against his mouth as it mixes with his saliva, and his hand slides down to curl tight around your waist underneath your clothes, pulling you flush against him.

"Mm," he whines a little into the kiss, urging every bit of jam out of your mouth and into his.

His hands sneak up your torso, one settling tightly against your bra, cupping your tit into his desperate grip. The pressure of his thumb circling your sensitive peak makes your back arch off the wall into his chest. The moan you gasp out is swallowed immediately by him, his grip tightening just a little when you press closer.

Chasing the shudder you sent down his spine.

With one last content little hum, he kisses every bit of jam out of your mouth, sucking gently on your tongue before he lets go. His own tongue darting out to lick a bit that smeared the corner of your mouth.

Your fingers still curl in the fabric of his sweater, heart hammering against your ribs.

"Messy," he simply says and leans back in for another kiss, hand kneading your boob beneath the hoodie. Again.

Incredibly greedy.

“You taste good,” he whispers into your mouth.

You smile into the kiss, lewd, needy sounds spilling from your lips directly into his mouth. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his clothes, your body leaning heavy into his, every nerve buzzing even as your knees go weak and you struggle to match the hungry rhythm he set.

“Better with the jam?” you tease.

He can’t help but smile, pulling back to study the expression settled on your face. The rosey tint spread across your cheeks, now definitely not from the cold but something entirely different, your messy hair, your pink bruised lips, and the glassy look in your eyes.

Especially the marks that adored your neck.

He stares a little too long. Thumb brushing against your cheek then your bottom lip. As if he was testing if you were real. Real and his.

“Mm.”

Another second passes.

“Don't make me compare you to food, weirdo.”

His mouth twitches.

You giggle.

“Seriously.”

The corners of his lips lift, something soft hidden beneath the teasing.

"Just you is enough."

A stupid smile washes over your face. Head over heels just as much as he was for you.

He kisses your warm cheek and whispers—

"Wanna make those cupcakes now?"

© geumnana ― 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚