Her kind of Birthday ft Seoyeon

You sit there, naked, hunched over yourself, elbows digging into your thighs as your palms rest above your eyes, wiping the sleep from them. Your mind is muddy, still recovering from the bottle of whiskey you bought for her birthday. The one she decided to open and drink the day before because she wanted to ‘get the party started early’. And you can’t fault her for it. Days of fan meetings, dance practices, and shooting for their new variety show, and the only day off she gets is her birthday? Yeah, you understand why she wanted to drink as soon as she arrived at your place, why she tore the bottle from your grasp, pouring herself a very generous amount before downing it in one go. You just didn’t expect to be finishing it in one night.

You pull your hands away from your face, your sigh turning into a hiss as the sunlight comes through the curtains, invading your corneas. You’re blinking a few times, your eyes adjusting to your surroundings that feel too bright for an early morning start. Your hand reaches out for your alarm clock on the nightstand, dragging the clock face across its surface until it’s resting in your hands.

You look down.

Shit.

You slept through the whole morning. Your plans to celebrate her birthday now in disarray and it’s all because you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You close your eyes and suddenly, you feel the ghost of her lips planted on your neck, her nails digging into your back as her legs wrap themselves around your hips. She was hot and tight as you set a steady yet rough pace, the headboard banging against the wall, and you remember your neighbour swearing, banging their fists against their side of the wall.

A small part of you knows you’re going to have to apologise for last night. The other part wishes you never run into them for the rest of your life.

You take in the rest of your bedroom and the scene that’s left in front of you. Her bra hanging on the door knob of your wardrobe, the strap torn, broken beyond repair. Your t-shirt and sweatpants strewn all over the floor along with her skirt. You find her panties on top of the bedroom door, looking like they’ve been torn from her body. Turning towards the headboard, you find her shirt tied onto one of the bedposts and you can’t imagine what both of you did that required… restraints.

The sound of rustling breaks you out of your thoughts. You look down. Something’s moving underneath the covers. You hear it groan, watch as it tries to wiggle out of the cocoon it’s made until a head pops out, lifting the ends of the duvet like it’s a hood. She’s yawning, mouth wide, eyes squeezed shut and for a moment, you allow yourself to steal a glance. Her hair is a mess, disheveled and matted from whatever happened last night, neck covered in bruises courtesy of your lips and you trace them, follow them down to her collarbone and the swell of her breasts.

She makes a noise, smacking her lips together a few times before she stretches out her back, ass in the air, the duvet falling and covering her entire body save for her arms, dangling off the side of the bed. When she finishes, you can’t help but stare, throat dry as she slides forward, head popping out of the covers, eyes finding yours, and smiling that smile that rounds her cheeks so much, you can’t help but reach out and pinch one, earning you a yelp and a slap against your thigh.

“Happy Birthday, Yoon Seoyeon.”

She pulls your hand away from her cheek, throwing it over your thighs before resting her head on her arms, a tired, satisfied smile adorning her face as she closes her eyes.

“Good Morning.”

“It’s the afternoon actually. Slept right through the morning.”

One eye opens as a small laugh escapes her. One you can’t help but reciprocate.

“Makes sense. We were going pretty hard last night.” She rises up onto her elbows, leaning her head backwards as she takes a look at your back. “Okay, maybe we were going a bit too hard. Sorry about your back.”

You turn to the full length mirror on the other side of the room. Your back is red, marred with nail tracks so deep that you’re pretty sure there’s dried blood. When your eyes find her again, she’s looking away, a flush creeping up her neck, turning her ears red as her hand moves up to block your vision. But you don’t let her, pulling it away with one hand whilst the other grabs at her chin, making her face you, your thumb brushing against her bottom lip, swollen from your kisses.

“That explains why I couldn’t sleep on my back.”

Everything goes quiet as you stare into her eyes, watching as they dilate. The ticking alarm clock, the soft hum from the refrigerator in your kitchen, all muffled in your ears as you lean down, eyes leaving her face, mesmerised by the way her throat bobs like she’s trying to get words out.

“S—sorry.”

You press your lips against her forehead, the corner of your mouth curling when you hear her inhale sharply, feel her hand hold onto your wrist tightly, the sound of something rubbing against each other underneath the covers is quiet but unmistakeable. You slowly lean away, waiting for her to open her eyes again to look at you.

“Don’t be. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Her cheeks turn a deeper crimson as she pushes your hand away. She grabs the duvet, pulling it over herself as she listens to you laugh, loud and happy, at her reaction and somewhere deep down, she wouldn’t mind hearing it again, only not at her expense.

As your laughter dies down, you stare fondly at the lump underneath your covers, your hand moving to where her head is as you begin to pet her through the duvet. You hear her softly whine and for a brief moment, you’re transported back to last night, her mouth against your ear, whines mixing with stuttering breaths and sharp gasps. How your name was said again and again, accompanying the creak of your bed frame and the banging of the headboard against the wall.

You feel her move, pulling the duvet and wrapping it around her shoulders as she sits up just behind you, head gently falling onto your shoulder blade.

“Did you have a lot planned?”

You hum, looking up at the ceiling fan, lazily spinning. “A little. I booked a whole petting cafe for ourselves. Missed the check in though. And I had a reservation for that lunch place you love so much, the one you always go to with Nien.” You turn back to face her, looking at you with wide, guilty eyes. “Afterwards, I would’ve taken you shopping, bought you anything you wanted.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. In hindsight, with all the work you’ve done, maybe planning a whole day of activities was a bit… much.” You flash her an embarrassed smile as she looks at you with wide, bright eyes. She presses a kiss against your shoulder, just as her hand slides down your arm, finding yours and clasping them together. And you can’t help but watch as the duvet slips off one shoulder, pooling at her wide hips where faint but undeniable hand prints mar her otherwise flawless skin.

“We could still go shopping later.” She’s pressing her forehead against you, rubbing it gently against your skin. “Uh… why did you let me finish a whole whiskey bottle?”

You gasp in indignation. “Me? You’re the one who ripped it out of my hands and poured yourself a glass full of that stuff.”

“Did I?”

“If I remember correctly, I was the one who told you to slow down, to save some for your actual birthday.”

“And if I remember correctly, you helped finish the bottle.”

You take a second to ponder what actually happened last night. Your firm grip on the bottle, freeing it from her hands, the burning sensation as you tipped its content into your mouth, sliding down your throat and the way your eyes scrunched in pain. Her hand holding your chin when you pulled the bottle away from your lips, how they caught droplets of whiskey down your chin. She placed her thumb in her mouth, sucked on it gently, eyes locked on yours as she hollowed her red cheeks, chest heaving as she watches you down the last few drops before dropping it onto couch. Your hands finding her waist, digging deep, leaving handprints as you pull her closer, only for her hands to come up to your chest, pushing you down on the chair behind. Her legs trapping yours, Seoyeon rubbing against you, her hand in your hair, the smell of whiskey washing over you and…

You feel your ears turn red as you recall last night’s events. And you don’t need to turn around to know that she’s grinning wide, hear the small exhales through her nose in laughter. She’s not the sole perpetrator, the reason your plans got ruined. And you know it now too.

Her chin rests on your shoulder, and she’s blowing cool air against your ear as if she’s trying to cool them down. It doesn’t work. If anything it makes it worse. And she knows, mischief in her eyes as she snakes her arms around your waist, pressing herself closer, until the duvet falls and the stiff peak of her nipples dig into your back.

“We can still salvage something. I can make a call to the food place, see if… there’s… any…”

You lose all train of thought when you feel her hand glide downwards, gossamer touches left in its wake as it finds what it’s looking for, wrapping around your length before stroking you slowly, gently, until all either of you can focus on, can look at, is the way you harden in her grip.

“What if I wanted to stay in bed? Would that be okay?” She’s concentrating on the head, her grip tightening ever so slightly before loosening. She’s circling it, caressing your tip, spreading your precum around the head before stroking you again, this time smoother.

“If that’s what the birthday girl wants.”

“Hmm… it is.”

Her hand’s gliding along your length, twisting at the head, grip tightening at the base. She knows your body too well, knows exactly where to apply the pressure that has your legs shaking and your breathing erratic, and she knows exactly when to stop, when to let you get your breath back, like she’s fine tuning an instrument. And it’s different from last night. Seoyeon on her knees between your legs, drooling over your cock before taking it all down her throat with no preamble, moving up and down at such a speed, it was less about pleasure and more about getting you off down her throat. You saw stars when you came, but she kept going, relentless, unyielding that you had to twist your hand in her hair, pull her off before you came again.

You hear her breathlessly laughing in your ear. And when you turn, her eyes are on you, watching your reaction as she uses her nail against the head that you can’t help but roll your eyes to. Her hand begins to stroke you again, and you can’t help but let your head fall closer to hers. She’s smiling as she moves closer, pressing kisses along your cheek until she reaches your mouth.

You surge forward, catching her temporarily off guard before she reciprocates, opening her mouth to let your tongue in. The sound of your lips smacking against each other fill your ears, and it’s slow and patient, your tongue caressing hers while she moans at the sensation, her strokes on your length faltering. She’s not biting your lips hard enough to draw blood, not diving back in soon after you separate. It’s methodical, every movement of your lips against hers, every attempt to get her to gasp or moan, to open her mouth wide enough for your tongue to continue its invasion.

She’s distracted enough to completely stop her ministration, and for your fingers to slowly trace her inner thighs. You feel the heat emanating from her core, feel the mess she’s made just sitting there and as you get closer, her legs open wider in invitation. Your hand finds what it’s looking for, rubs up and down against her lips until all she can do is moan. You press a finger inside, just as your thumb rubs against her clit, and her eyes open in surprise, a gasp threatening to escape only for you to capture it.

She’s loosened her grip on you, hand moving to hold onto your arm as she starts rocking against your hand. Her mouth leaves yours, soft mewls echoing around the room as she presses her forehead to yours, staring into your dilating eyes. She’s grinding harder now, and you’re doing your best to keep up, to curl your fingers in the way she loves, press your thumb firmly on her clit that leaves her faltering.

“Oh—oh my god…”

A chuckle escapes you, one that she copies before diving back for your mouth, this time more fevered and all clumsy. You can see her start to lose her mind, chest rising and falling like she’s not getting enough air in, her movement against your hand choppy with no rhythm and this is the only thing you find similar to last night. Her desperate, frantic grinding to get herself over the edge before you make it to the bedroom. And she did. Made a mess of your sweatpants before you even had a chance to take them off.

“Wait… wait…”

You stop pumping your fingers in and out of her pussy, but keeping them inside her warmth, waiting for her to catch her breath. “What is it?”