#but soon it'll be in english?

[foxgonyoom]

The hour approaches

[darlenicy]

I just finished the first chapter of my Winx Rewrite 🤯

[paintpanic]

about the drawings that made fun of the tropes, will you do more designs or were they just a sketch? (i dont know english, sorry)

I think they were just for fun, but I might play with the idea more in the future. Anybody is free to do whatever with the concept!

[yuseirra]

the three protagonists of children of the rune

part 1 - winterer (the night)

part 2 - demonic (the day)

part 3 - blooded (the daybreak)

[dbphantom]

sometimes i rewatch dressrosa just to appreciate how unhinged sabo gets in this scene

[the-shape-shifting-system]

French celebratory post

On a eu notre BAC! Vouiiiiiii! Le soulagement du siècle, j'étais convaincu qu'on allait devoir passer au rattrapage, ce que je ne voulais absolument pas car c'est à Montauban (juste à une heure et quelques de chez nous, en plus c'est des oraux :/). On l'a eu mention Bien en plus! Ça par contre c'était pas prévu, vu comment on c'est loupé sur la philo et l'une de nos EDS (enseignement de spécialité) ^^'

Je suis hyper content, c'est franchement génial surtout qu'on va pouvoir faire la formation qu'on voulait dans le supérieur! Yay!

[einaudis]

.

[zackfairmutual]

wanted to read tonight but got a headache going for no reason bleh

[may-stuff]

The Only Thing He Needs | F.C

Franco Colapinto x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Cunnilingus, p in v, creampie (in that order) typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language. reader has breasts and a vagina but nothing else about her looks is specified

Word count: 3k

Author's note: Behold... my first child. It's ugly af but I love it because it's mine.

This is shorter than expected and I'm sure it'll disappoint many of you, so I apologise in advance. I'm just a girl trying to make the fandom happy.

Interactions with this thing would be appreciated, even if you want to let me know how much it sucked 💖

The sun is setting when he finally enters his room after what it felt like an eternity. The weather outside is so hot that when the cool air touches his skin he almost lets out a groan.

Franco would be lying if he said that it wasn't an extraordinary day, because it was. Despite the tremendous heat inside the car and the physical pain he went through, he did an amazing job and couldn't be prouder of himself and everything he has achieved at this point in his career. Sensing that there's a lot more to come, he can only feel excitement for the near future.

Still, even after everything that has happened and all the love and support he's received in the last couple of hours, there's something missing. Someone.

You.

You were there at the paddock during the race, but trying to avoid the media and all the fuss that would be caused if they knew of your relationship, you left the moment you saw the cameras. He hasn't seen you since then, almost three hours ago, and he wouldn't be exaggerating if he said that he is dying because of it.

You're everything he needs.

When his eyes finally find you, you're coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your hair is loose and messy, your feet bare and there's that glint in your pretty eyes when you realise that now he's here in front of you, breathing the same air. Your beauty makes his heart swell with love.

His arms are wrapped around your waist the moment you literally jump into his embrace. Soon you're showering him in kisses all over his face and neck. He giggles in response, the grip on your waist increasing slightly.

"Missed you." You mutter, nose nudging the left side of his jaw. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay."

"It's okay." Franco answers. "You're here now. That's all I need."

And he means every word.

You smile in response. A smile that reaches your eyes and makes them shine with such intensity that makes him feel dizzy with love.

"You should take a shower." You don't miss the way he pouts when you pull away from him to have a better look at his face. "You stink, love."

"You love me anyway. Stinky and all."

Your laughter echoes in the entirety of the room as you walk towards the closet, where you look for a clean shirt and shorts and then toss them towards him. Rolling his eyes, he walks to the bathroom, chuckling when your voice, from the other side of the door, reminds him that you love him always.

Almost half an hour later he comes out of the bathroom, all wet hair and bare chest. He finds you in front of the bureau where you’ve put some of your clothes and he knows he should be thinking about something else right now, maybe discuss the race and his future in F1, or maybe he should tell you how much he would love to let the world know that he is yours, but all he can do is stare at you. 

Leaning on the doorframe, he observes your every move. You’re not doing something extraordinary, only going through your things, probably looking for the earrings you’ve lost again, but he isn’t afraid of admitting that every single thing you do, no matter how big or small, make you look like the most fascinating creature in existence.

Soon, as every other day, he finds himself walking in your direction. Hands itching with the need of touching you.

There's something about you. Something that lures him in like nothing else has done before. Maybe it's your hair and the intoxicating smell that touches his nostrils when he buries his face in it. Or maybe it's your skin and its taste, so sweet that it forbids him from thinking straight. It sure is the sound you make when you feel his hands on your waist.

His long fingers roam the skin of your waist and back as his lips kiss a wet trail down the right side of your neck. A soft breath leaves his mouth when his lips reach the spot right over your pulse, wasting no time in sinking his teeth in your flesh, softly but hard enough to make you hiss in pain.

"Fran." You warn him. Dainty hands touch his in an attempt to push him away, but his grip on your waist becomes stronger with the fear of losing the contact  with your skin.

"No, no. Por favor." He whimpers. He whimpers impossibly close to your ear, the agonic plea making you squirm in his arms almost against your own will.

"You bit me, Franco."

"Perdón." He cries. "Perdón. I won't do it again."

The mere thought of you leaving hurts him so bad that it is almost physical. It's been such a tough day and now all he wants is to hold you and never let go. You're the only one who can make him feel safe, at home.

There's nothing in this world that Franco loves more than having you in his arms, being able to kiss every part of you and rejoice in the way your body and soul respond to him. Always you, no one else.

“Tanta belleza..." he whispers. Hands now travel up your abdomen and then your sternum, until they finally rest on your round breasts. When he starts kneading your flesh at the same time he keeps kissing and licking the skin of your neck, you moan softly. In response he chuckles, amused by the way in which his words and touch make you forget everything.

You want to be mad at him, you want to scold him and forbid him from touching you if he bites you again, but your mind is dizzy by his kiss and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. His touch breaks your resolve and he knows it, always taking advantage of that.

Today is no exception, because soon he starts moving against you. Hips rocking forward, his growing erection brushes against the roundness of your ass, making both of you moan out loud.

"Can you feel me, baby?" He asks and he sounds desperate. You want to answer but fail miserably because of the intensity of it all. "Can you feel how hard you make me? This is all because of you, for you." 

You moan his name when he moves his hips once more, your own body meeting him halfway, desperately  looking for the contact that makes your skin shiver. 

“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, words interrupted by the kisses he's still giving you. “The things I want to do to you…” 

Your answer comes in a shaky breath.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The next few minutes happen so fast that you barely have a moment to process it all. In no time you're laying on the soft bed, your shirt is long gone and the cool air kisses your skin. The only piece of clothing remaining on your body is your underwear. 

Franco is at your feet, looking at you with eyes full of need and adoration. He takes a long time taking you in, pretty eyes looking at every piece of you, and when your own hands travel from your abdomen to your breasts, repeating his actions from before, a soft whine escapes his mouth. He observes as you touch yourself for him, right hand going down until you start playing with the hem of your knickers. He licks his lips, sight fixed on the wet spot in them. 

Just before you can sneak your hand under the soft fabric, his long fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you aside. He takes no time in replacing you, taking both sides of your panties and pulling them down. In no time they're being thrown to some place on the ground, long forgotten for the rest of the night. 

Hands on both of your knees, he spreads your legs open and lets out a shaky breath the moment your dripping cunt is finally on display. He has seen you like this countless times before but he always reacts the same way: enamoured with every part of your body. He wants to taste everything he can, he wants to drink from you until you beg him to stop.

And that's what he does.

Flat tongue travels from your hole to right under your clit, repeatedly, during a few tortuous seconds that feel like hours. Spreading you open with his thumbs, Franco keeps licking you there until you're the one whining and begging him to give you more. 

In response, you feel him smirk between your legs.

“You want more, huh?”

“Please. Fran, por favor.”

He chuckles.

“Qué putita que sos.”

You want to answer but nothing comes out of your mouth. Nothing but a high pitched moan when his lips finally lick your clit. Before you can even process what's happening, he's suckling on your bundle of nerves like it is the most delicious thing he's ever had the pleasure to taste. When your hands take a handful of his hair and tug at it softly, deep moans sound on the back of his throat and the vibrations rumble through your entire body, making your back arch in pleasure.

There's nothing better than this. His mouth on you, kissing, licking, making sounds that would make even the boldest of men blush. He eats you out like his life depends on it, ignoring the need for air in his lungs because all the oxygen he needs is in you, in your skin, in the very taste of you. He drinks from your juices as if they are the sweetest ambrosia, giving him life, giving him everything he needs. Nothing else, no one else but you.

You keep moaning his name louder and louder, not caring if others are listening. You'll deal with that later, but right now there's nothing in this world that could make you stop from letting him know how you feel.

“So good…” you moan. “You make me feel so good, baby.” 

He moans as well. Hips rocking against the bed cover, unconsciously looking for release. Your words are music to him, because all he wants is to make you feel so good that you forget everything else. Everything else but him. 

“You're soaked.” He groans after gathering your arousal on his tongue and then swallowing it. “Is this because of me, amor?”

Once again, you want to answer but his actions interrupt you. This time, your words get stuck in your throat by two of his long fingers entering you. Carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt you, but the only thing you can feel is the immense pleasure spreading all over your body, legs shaking slightly with the feeling of his fingers starting to move inside of you at the same time his lips wrap around your clit again, suckling with need. 

You moan his name like a mantra, both hands gripping his hair as your hips start to move almost involuntarily, rubbing yourself on his face as you look for your own release. He doesn't protest for a second, in fact, he grabs your ass in his hands to move you closer to his face and now it's impossible to part away from him, tongue and lips torturing your puffy clit as you cry out in pleasure. 

And then he does something that he's never done before.

His teeth grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves ever so slightly and that sends you to the edge. You have no time to react because soon entire galaxies are exploding behind your closed eyes. Some sort of electricity makes your body tremble as you cum on his tongue, and for a moment you feel like you are touching the sky with your hands. Seconds that feel like an eternity, you want to feel like this for the rest of your life. 

When you come back from some wonderful place you've never been before, you find yourself still laying on the bed, but this time Franco's on top of you. He's waiting for you to recover, only caressing your sides with his hands and leaving short kisses on your collarbone and chest. 

He knows you're back when you intertwine your fingers in his soft hair. 

“You okay?” He asks. You nod in response, a content smile on your lips. “Need you to use your words, baby.”

“I'm fine.” You answer. “Better than ever.”

He purrs like a kitten when your hands travel down his back, caressing his soft skin for a few moments. Then you remember that you’re the only one that has had an orgasm tonight, the realisationg making you feel incredibly guilty. Part of loving him is taking care of him as much as he does with you. That’s why it feels wrong, leaving him like this.

Your gaze finds his. He’s hovering over you now, one arm supporting his own weight as the other is in your face, fingertips brushing against your cheek and jaw. His big, pretty eyes are looking at you as if he’s trying to decipher you, and soon he does. It scares you sometimes, how easily he can read your thoughts by the expression on your face. 

“You don’t have to, you know?” He mutters. 

You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. 

“Of course I have to,” you object. “Because I love you.”

Franco smiles as you sit and motion to him to now lay on his back. He complies, never denying anything to you. 

Soon you’re kissing him again but this time you’re the one on top, legs on both sides of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth are intoxicating and, trying to coax more out of him, you take your hands to the waistband of his boxer and pull them down, just as he did with your underwear before. 

You wish you could take your time with him but you know that he won’t last long. His cock is impossibly hard, precum dripping out of the angry red tip. That’s why his reaction when you touch him doesn't surprise you; he’s at the edge and it won’t take much time for him to come undone in your arms.

“Amor…” he moans as you stroke him, spreading his juices all over his beautiful dick. You know what he wants. He’s trying to tell you that he can’t wait any longer, that all he wants is to feel you. 

So you comply. 

Both of you moan the exact moment he enters you, hard cock stretching you out in such a delicious way that has you closing your eyes tight. You’re so wet that he slides in easily, filling you completely. 

Your name leaves his lips in a plea that makes you move in no time. The friction coaxing more sounds out of the both of you. He whispers sentences that are never finished, words both in English and Spanish that have no coherence. He’s so lost in the bliss of having your sweet cunt wrapped around him that can barely speak properly. 

“You look so beautiful like this…” he manages to say, the phrase interrupted many times by his own moans. “Riding my cock… so, so good…”

In response you move faster. You can feel him inside of you, twitching with the need of release that will soon arrive. His grip on your waist tightens as you ride him faster and faster each time, breasts bouncing with your moves and that, too, sends him over the edge. 

“Fran…” you moan, your eyes pleading. “Come on, baby. Fill me up.”

Those words and your walls hugging his dick with such intensity are enough to make him cum. He reaches his orgasm in seconds, warm seed spilling deep inside of you and triggering your own climax, which is shorter than the previous one but even more intense.

You keep moving for a few seconds, milking his cock a little more. When you start feeling him going soft you decide to take him out of you, hearing him moan one more time as he watches his own semen dripping out of you. 

The way he looks after he has an orgasm is one of the most gorgeous things you’ve seen in your life. Hair dishevelled, skin glistening with sweat and pretty eyes full of satisfaction, he’s drunk in love and adoration for you and you love it. You love seeing him like this, knowing that you’re the reason behind it all. 

“You’re perfect.” you whisper to him, your lips hovering over his. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Franco smiles as his right hand comes up to caress your hair lovingly. Now, after the intensity of the love-making, both of you long for your lover’s touch in a more innocent way, in a way that can soothe all the aches. 

You stay like that, resting in each other’s arms, for what it feels like hours. After a while and starting to feel a little sleepy, you sit up on the bed. He looks in your direction, surprised and almost offended with you for pulling away from him. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“We need to take a shower, come on.” 

You try to get off the bed, but his strong arm is around you in an instant, taking you back to his side. You giggle as he holds you tight and starts biting at your neck.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says. “You’re staying here with me forever.”

“But we can’t!” You laugh again. “We need to have a shower and eat something.”

“No, no.” This time his tone is more serious. His hands are both on your cheeks, softly making you look at him in the eyes. “You are the only thing I need.” 

For a second you want to scold him for not taking his own well being seriously, but then a smile appears on your face, leaving the previous frown behind, because now you realise that you feel the same way.

.

taglist: @bicchaan @amz824 @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

[freezethebeez]

HAD A DREAM YOU BLOCKED ME & I CRIED ETC. Hi FreezeTheBeez how are you. How has your day been. I really liked the last chapter I'm So glad you she/her'd Ranboo. She deserves it. Put her in a dress make her cry a bit. Great as always. Have a good day Freeze TheBeez

OMG I WOULD NEVER BLOCK YOU EVER!!!and yes Hi Hello my day has been good i am at work and i have coffee so everything is good right now :)

so so glad you enjoyed the she/her-ification of ranboo i love doing silly things with gender and pronouns heehee hoo

the next chapter is taking me forever for Real (it has been at least a month of writing and so much has happened but i still haven't gotten to the bit where tubbo moves out so we have quite a bit of work to do. proofreading it will actually be a nightmare. it is about 20 pages and only getting longer)

Have a good day as well ttrebizond o/

[coffee-without-anesthetics]

ouch ouch ouch the english-french pathways have already been blocked and re-isolated in my brain AAAAAA this is my most hated process

[vultbae]

small world ❀

art donaldson x female reader

part two (soon)

↳ summary: Art and Patrick were once your peers at the Mark Rebellato Academy —not the nicest ones. Five years later, you've made a friend that can help you fuck with their minds a little.

↳ warnings: making out, dry humping, manipulation, a lot of pettiness, mentions of bullying, and weight!! the dumbification of art donaldson tbh

↳ notes: Istg I be having the most random ideas, but I hope you enjoy!! as always, english is not my first language lolz

word count: 3.1k

Tashi enters the living room with a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes, moving gracefully in a beautiful blue mini-dress. With a soft pop, she eases the cork, instantly pouring the effervescent gold-ish liquid into the two glasses. 

"You shouldn't even worry about them," Tashi says with a wry smile. As she finishes serving you some rosé Veuve Clicquot, she hands you the glass. "What are you—like, the second or third in Europe? They are gonna be broke by their thirties," she concludes, staring at you with confident eyes.

You nod, taking a sip of champagne. "Don't see it as serious; it'll be fun."

Tashi raises her glass, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. "Im just saying, don't stress over men."

You clink your flute against Tashi’s. "Alright."

A year and a half ago, you had met Tashi Duncan, who you believed was a hard-hearted bitch but ended up being a close friend of yours. She is merciless, proficient, and goddamn; she has that vicious aura you worship so much. While living in Biot, you'd always look for the nearest CRT to watch Tashi flawlessly play, enchanted by how she unnerved her adversaries.

During summer break, your father dragged you out of the academy to visit California for a benefaction event. Amidst the glamour and chatter of the event, you caught sight of Tashi —most likely attending due to her relevance spiking around the area. Luckily, your connection rapidly deepened, fueled by reciprocal admiration and tennis dependence.

And the commitment to stay in touch despite the geographical distance worked. Tashi became pretty much your best friend, and you became hers. Aside from the workaholic aspect, the resemblances between you were too much to ignore. Sooner than later, you discovered much about Tashi's personal life, the players she liked and despised, and her daily anecdotes regarding tennis and her intimate life. And that's how you became acquainted with Fire and Ice's peculiar hyper-fixation on Tashi.

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig.

You thought it was a unique offering from God. You didn't expect you'd get the opportunity to face the golden pair again. When Tashi told you she had met Zweig and Donalson, a powerful sentiment of gratitude washed over you. You nearly fell to your knees when she proceeded to explain they were a walking boner for her. If that wasn't high power granting you a second chance to delight yourself, it was an insane coincidence.

But telling Tashi the backstory was a different pain in the ass. Although she expressed some sort of disgust towards Zweig and Donaldson's brainless carnal-based attitude, you couldn't buy it.  And your skepticisms were demonstrated as valid when she —dreamy voice and all that shit— confessed through the phone she nearly had a threesome with them. A fucking threesome. You couldn't hold it back anymore, so you told her everything.

Tashi was aware of tennis's influence on your household, as you were raised by two renowned tennis coaches from the States. When you turned eight, your parents turned you in at the Mark Rebellato Academy —as if you were condemned to play tennis by default. The detrimental part of your journey was developing thyroid issues when you were twelve. Jesus, twelve years old — the commencement of the preteen period where kids either kiss your feet or bully you. One year after, along with the anticipated weight gain, you met Art and Patrick. And as if you weren't unfortunate enough already, the two —who at the time looked like fucking Beavis and Butthead— decided they didn't like your physical appearance. They hated it.

“Hey, Y/l/n!” Patrick’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

You froze, your heart sinking to the underground. You tried to focus on your serve, but your hands were immobile. 

Patrick sauntered over, his smirk widening as he looked you up and down. “What’s the matter, Y/n? Ball too heavy for you to lift?”

You heard Art’s laughter behind your back. He joined in a kind of trembling voice. “Or maybe she’s saving her strength for lunch. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to eating.”

The echo of them and the rest of the kids on the court laughing was a sound that felt like daggers piercing your heart.

After two years of ceaseless bullying and humiliation—which also distracted you from tennis—your parents sent you to The Mouratoglou Tennis Academy in Biot, a small town in France. You are not sure if it was the harassment itself, the low self-esteem, or possibly your undeniable attraction for Donaldson. It didn't matter. By the age of seventeen, you were undoubtedly one of the major promises of European tennis.

So, explaining the theatrical, soap opera-like backstory to Tashi for your detestation of Zweig and Donaldson took time. But when you did, it was worth it because Tashi didn't distrust your testimony, and if anyone was exhilarated to play some moves against them at the beginning, it was Duncan. 

That's the explanation behind Tashi pitching a tremendous party to celebrate her commitment to Stanford. This was absurd, to say the least, considering she had college offers piling up, and no one doubted she would commit to a prestigious school. But Tashi knew you'd visit from France, and this was just the perfect instance to hook you up with both condemned.

Because, of course, her biggest fangirls would attend. 

It didn't take long until the country house was full of people ranging from Tashi's cousins to bare acquaintances. And spotting Fire and Ice was easier than you thought. 

Tashi elbows you discreetly and signs with her head the direction they are standing. "There they are."

Your gaze falls over Art, who is laughing with —who you assume is—Patrick. His features are sharper and more defined. The lanky, slender physique you remembered from his premature teenage years had filled out into a more athletic build, with broader shoulders tapering to a trim waist covered in a light pink shirt. His blonde hair, which was no longer too light, was now strawberry blonde-ish, slightly tousled, and cascading over his ears.

Patrick, standing a few feet away, was equally transformed. His brunette hair, just a bit longer than you remember, frames a face that had hardened over the years—angular jaw, defined cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem to miss nothing. The fucking smirk is still there, and you can see how he displays it every two seconds at whatever thing Art is telling him.

The interior of your stomach resembles a volcano about to erupt. You feel ambivalent, so many emotions overlapping each other. You see two cute, hell, gorgeous guys, and you wish you could approach them without considering crucifying them before. And you can't help but feel envious at how effortlessly Tashi managed to tame Art and Patrick while the only thing you got from them was hostility.

Your eyes can't seem to unbuckle from them. Tashi catches you slightly frowning at the panorama, and she isn't certain if you are infatuated or planning murder on the spot. "Come on."

You have no time to react before Tashi leads you through some partygoers to reach where Zweig and Donaldson are. Like dogs sniffling fresh meat, it's pathetic how their heads twist simultaneously when Tashi approaches them, conversation instantly pausing. It is as if Tashi's presence was magnetic for them.

"Well, hello, both of you," Tashi greets them excitedly, still holding your hand. "Didn't think you'd come."

Art's eyes widen, "Are you kidding?" he's about to keep speaking, but his gaze merges with yours for a split second, and he shuts off. Dead. Silent. 

"—Stanford's a big deal, Tashi." Patrick interrupts, compensating for the awkwardness of Art's sudden number. "I had to drag this lazy fuck out of his bed, but we made it."

Suddenly, Art's out of the trance, tearing his blue eyes off you to bombard Patrick with a killer look. "Hey—shut up, Patrick."

Tashi sweetly, softly giggles at their word exchange. God, she's good, you think. Tashi turns to gesture to you, "This is my friend, Claire, by the way. She is visiting from the Mouratoglou Academy—

To be fair, Claire is a believable name.

"Wait, the Patrick Mouratoglou Academy? In France?" Art runs over Tashis's sentence, incredulously shooting you a broad-eyed glare. You nod in agreement, still processing you are having a civil conversation with Art Donaldson.

You feel Tashi squeezing your hand at your quietness.

"Yeah, you know it?" you timidly ask, forcing a polite smile that, if you were Art, you wouldn't buy it. But, of course, he's as dumb as a pigeon.

"Heck... Of course, I do. I wish I could go there."

Tashi smirks, enjoying the spectacle. 

Patrick’s investment in the conversation piques. "Mouratoglou, huh? That's impressive. Maybe we could hit the court sometime."

And that's the first time Patrick makes eye contact with you. He's stabbing you with his stare. You abruptly wonder if he's as dumb as Art, probably not. 

You squeeze Tashi's hand.

Tashi leans closer to Patrick, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Hey, Pat... do you remember what you mentioned about erectile dysfunction? My aunt's a sexologist, I think—

Patrick loudly chuckles, apparently alarmed by the deficiency of filtering confidential information. "I need to smoke sum' stronger. Wanna come, Tash?"

Tashi purses her lips, casting a quick glance at you. "Sure."

Your point of view is like a sitcom scene, swiftly panning from Tashi's body leaving your radar to the boy in front of you, staring at you with soothing eyes and reddened cheeks. It's basically comical.

Art's eyes dart around the lively yard before landing back on you. He clears his throat. "So, uh, Claire? That's a cute name."

It takes tons of willpower not to drop the good girl act right there. You attempt to return the sentiment with a quirk on the corner of your lips. "I need to get a drink. Come with me?"

He shakes his head up and down, finding it easier than answering with words.

For the first time in a couple of months, the inside of Art's mind has more than a giant cardboard cutout of Tashi Duncan. He is in awe. 

You lead the way, weaving through clusters of drunk teenagers towards the house. You feel Art's gaze lingering on your back —or ass, you don't know—a magnetic pull that makes you hyper-aware of his presence.

You arrive in the kitchen and quickly grab a bottle of vodka, a can of soda, and a party cup. Art watches you closely with a look of hypnotic admiration as if you were concocting the most complicated cocktail in the world. You want to roll your eyes so badly.

"That dress looks amazing on you." Art blurts out, unable to contain his thoughts any longer. 

You look at him. Art is sitting on one of the high stools by the kitchen island, his elbow resting on the table's sleek surface, supporting his chin with his hand. There is a softness in his eyes completely foreign to you, an infrequent vulnerability that contrasts sharply with the characteristic asshole demeanor you remember.

To Art, you appear almost ethereal, like an ideal concept from a wet dream of his. His thoughts are a kaleidoscope of jumbled fragments of memory that make no sense. You look so familiar... but no. 

There's no way he would forget about you.

You glance up, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "Thank you," you reply, handing him a drink.

Art sips on his red plastic cup, eyes hooked on yours. "So, uhm. I just realized I never introduced myself properly. Im Art—

"Yeah, Donaldson, I know." you cut him off, leaving him completely silent and confused. "I've seen you play. Not bad," you clarify, with an unconscious hint of pride in your voice.

Art's smile widens. "Wait, you've seen me play?" he exaggeratedly emphasizes me. 

You nod.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. There’s this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "That's, uh, great. Next time you are watching, I'll play better..."

His innate nerdiness and try-hard flirtiness provoke nausea in you. If you didn't know him, it would be a different story. But seeing a former, intense crush who shamelessly bullied you for so long, giving you heart-shaped eyes...

It's fucking bizarre. And it pisses you off.

Art begins conversing about something else. You don't know what—tennis-related, maybe. You are not wearing earphones with noise cancellation, but you can't hear him anymore. It's a blur as his words course through one ear and depart through the other. Immediately. Your brain has simply blocked the action of listening to him.

You step closer, so close you can see the fine lines in his eyes, the flecks of green amidst the blue, with a hint of brown sectoral heterochromia on his right eye. You can smell the faint woody scent of his cologne, something spicy that makes you salivate. His lips keep moving, forming words that dissolve into the dim background noise. The music, the laughter, the chatter—they all blend into a distant hum.

Art's voice vanishes into oblivion as you fix your gaze on his mouth, the curve of his lips, the way they part and close as he speaks. "Art," you say, stopping him in his tracks.

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, puzzlement, and a spark of hope. His adam's apple throbs as he notices you staring at his lips.

You lean in, your breath mingling with his, your heart pounding in your chest. Your hand reaches up, fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the slight stubble that prickles against your touch. Art's breath hitches, his eyes widening in surprise, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans in, too.

Your lips crash against his. Although you don't want to make it weird, you fail. It's not a gentle kiss or a precious, out-of-a-book lips meeting. It's fierce, instructing, a clash of sour sentiments and intent. You pour all your frustration, your pent-up anger, and your fucked-up desire to overpower him into that kiss. 

Art's shock melts away and quickly replaces it with an appetite that matches yours. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours. The kiss deepens, his lips parting to allow your tongue to explore, to taste the unmistakable flavor of cigarette and cheap vodka. You can feel the warmth of his breath and the way his hands tighten on your waist. It's almost as if he's frightened you'll pull away at some point.

And you can only fantasize about the moment you walk away.

—but not yet. You push harder, your fingers tugging slightly in his messy strawberry-blonde hair. He lowly moans into your mouth, a sound that dispatches a shiver down your spine. His hands roam your back, tracing the curve of your spine and dangerously lowering to your ass level. There's a distress in his touch you never thought would come from him.

The way he's dissolving under your venomous touch is already a win for you. You've managed to put him under you. And it's intoxicating, this control you have over him, this ability to make him forget everything else.

You pull back, your lips hovering just above his. Art's eyes are half-lidded, his lips swollen and ridiculously red from the intensity of the kiss. He looks at you in pure infatuation, "What- I... Did I do something wrong?"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him again. "Come with me."

You peek at the party going outside—most people are outside. The living room is nearly empty, with a few alcoholized individuals entering the country house to refill their drinks. It's perfect.

You take Art's hand, your fingers lacing through his, and you lead him toward the sectional, six-seat couch in the center of the living room. You push Art down onto the couch, and he complies without resistance, his lust-drunken eyes never leaving yours; he nearly chokes on his spit at the sight of you slowly straddling him, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his hips.

"Jesus, Claire—"

You get the ick at the roleplay name Tashi baptized you with. 

"Shh," you whisper, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss. "You never shut up, Donaldson."

And that's odd for him. He gives it a second thought because he isn't aware of how much he has talked, but definitely not that much. 

The overthinking vanishes as soon as you begin to kiss him again, slowly at first, savoring the way his lips deliciously move against yours. Art's hands rest tentatively on your hips, his fingers twitching as if afraid to hold on too tight. You guide his hands around your waist, urging him to hold you closer. His grip tightens, and you can feel the heat of his palms through the delicate fabric of your black mini-dress.

A sigh rolls out from your throat when you perceive something hard putting pressure against your core —which, because of the dress, is only shielded by thin lace panties. The coarse fabric of Art's light denim jeans rubs splendidly against your pussy. 

A primitive groan slips out of Art's lips the moment you grind your hips against his clothed dick. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss, and his eyes wander downwards. "Shit— you'll kill me," he pants into your mouth.

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. They're dark with craving, his pupils dilated. "Then let me."

You are about to attack his lips again, but he hesitates. You tilt your head in confusion, murmuring a low what?

Art starts to speak, his voice shaky and breathless. "I... I was wondering if you wanted to go back to my hotel with me."

Before you can respond, Tashi suddenly appears in your vision behind Art's head. "Claire, there you are," she says, fucking loud with a knowing, manipulative smile on her lips. "Your dad called, he's outside."

You feel a surge of delicious triumph as you see the apparent dissatisfaction in Art's eyes. 

"Sorry, Art," you say, standing up and smoothing your dress. "Maybe another time."

There’s a raw sadness in his eyes, an almost childlike hurt that he can’t quite conceal. He isn't even drunk; he's fully conscious of the stunning girl he just met and now is evaporating as if she was going to turn into a wolf at midnight or something. 

As you are about to disappear from Art's vision, he shouts at you, "I'll see you later, right?"

But you don't answer.

Instead, you hurriedly walk with Tashi to reach the front yard. 

"I didn't lie about your dad being here, though," Tashi clarifies, pointing at the big Jeep parked in front of the country house.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, alright." You glance back at the house to ensure you are out of earshot. "I think fucking him would've been better. Do you think he's gonna remember about this tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah. This is definitely gonna fuck his head up for a while." Tashi chuckles, "he's pretty obsessive."

You feel a swell of fulfillment at your best friend's words. "How obsessive?"

Tashi smiles. "A lot."

❀

[hunajatahti]

cookies, shenanigans, love | ls2

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!foodblogger!reader [no faceclaim]

summary: young foodblogger releases vlog and reveals her longtime boyfriend.

notes: this is my first fic in english and english is not my first language - i apologize for any mistakes. thanks for your comments <3 maybe part2??

liked by oscarpiastri, liamlawson30, logansargeant and 7,274 others

itsy/n vlog soon. now the last month's dump. 1. the best thing about the beginning of the week is coffee with the girls! 2. chesschesschess 3. i really love my sweet boys 4. we have style 💅🏻✨️ 5. reasons for our love with this car 6. no comment 7. walk with bestie 8. date with my boy 9. treasure hunt

view all 1,729 comments

jk53 that's all sweet, but why is my brother wearing honey's ex helmet in my ex kitchen?

itshoney we were bored, and then we weren't bored. itsy/n i said no comment.

user1 Why vlog? It's not your format.

itshoney: no comment. itsy/n: true or the action didn't go according to honey's plan user2: Don't know why we didn't expect it. jk53: and we are growing and evolving. not abandoning our main format, but expanding it

user2 this soft launch has been going on for too long to be honest.

user3 on the one hand i think it's ok to not want publicity but on the other hand it's been going on for years and we don't know who he is. we don't even know his name user4 but we know they have nice dates. user2 and that alone makes me want to spend the night on the highway

user5: i am new and i have a question. is it normal to have f1 and f2 pilots in likes?

user3 yes. user2 yes. they and lily (both) have long subscribed to all the cookie tv guys!!! the boys hardly ever comment. lily (gf aa23) is the most active commenter of them all.

liked by itsy/n, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,164 others

itshoney girls night girls night!!! i missed 😢

view all 1,134 comments

user1 these cookies look incredible! will you share the recipe?

user2 the recipe is among the baking videos. there was an update not too long ago and they added a vegetarian version

user3: we miss the lives

user4 this week there were 21 Saturdays without lives... user5 that's a sad fact.

lilymhe i want to know what these cookies taste like 🍪

itshoney 👀 itsy/n what if it's possible.... jk53 to avoid possible further spoilers, the girls' cell phones have been confiscated.

user6: the fair is coming back???

user7 or workshops... user5 or sales.... user2 or shipping products to select subscribers.... user6 but we won't know the truth because jk confiscated the phones. jk53 it wasn't me. it was 🌷

liked by itshoney, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,302 others

itsy/n on a date with my boy, my beautiful girl and her boyfriend. thanks to honey for organizing this date 🥰

view all 1,697 comments

itshoney it's NOT a poly. It's a DOUBLE date.

itshoney and importantly, thanks to the boys for the custom makeup bag

user1 VLOG WILL A DATE

jk53 no. but in the vlog, it'll probably be something that happened in parallel itsy/n AND WHAT WAS GOING ON IN PARALLEL? itshoney NO ONE DIED itsy/n THIS IS NOT AN ANSWER itshoney i made a new friend, he promised to appear in the video sometime. and then there was our typical lolo behavior. itsy/n the vlog could do without this chaos. user2 We want this chaos. It sounds great. jk53 we'll see what we can do about timing

user3 when the face is revealed. it's no longer possible. too many cute pictures.

user4 on the one hand I like how we see the chaos outside the video but on the other hand….. I can't get enough!

user5 shoppers look great

user6 business idea: sell them

lilymhe cuties

itsy/n cutie wrote a comment!!!

liked by itshoney, itsy/n, logansargeant and 8,459 others

itscoookiestv the devil works hard, but @/jk53 is even harder. A pinch of cooking and a spoonful of shenanigans = vlog recipe. enjoy.

view all 2,479 comments

itsy/n genius, you forgot to write when the vlog comes out.

itshoney it was supposed to go out some time after the post, but the isp was of a different opinion.

user1 WE WILL SEE Y/N`S BOYFRIEND!!!

user2 war is over

lilymhe I'm excited! 😍

user3 tomorrow F1 race, today vlog from the girls. life is beautiful

user4 I see these pictures, the vlog footage? And I shake.

user5 I NEED TO SEE HIM AS SOON AS I CAN.

oscarpiastri finally

liamlawson30 LET'S GOOOOOOO

jk53 vlog is officially available on youtube right now!

[the end]

[thischarmingmandalorian]

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

Couple, Bar Chapter 1

Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.

Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader

Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.

While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."  

You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.

Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern.  And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.

On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.

The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting.  Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set. 

Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.

"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music. 

You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.

Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."

"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.

After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.

"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."

There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?

"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"

"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.

You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"

Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."

"Oh…kay?"

Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'

You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round.  Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right. 

You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."

You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."

Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"

You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry.  You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.

This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played.  You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself.  Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is? 

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.

You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.

"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"

You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.

"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.

"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.

"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.

"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.

"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.

The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything. 

And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper. 

You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front. 

You'll show him sexually frustrated.

Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach. 

"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.

Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.

"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder. 

"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet.  He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.

I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don't know how to say this

'Cause you're really my dearest friend

Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass. 

"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."

Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."

[jeneveuxrein]

off the table (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 13.5K

(meh, could've turned out better, but it'll suffice)

-- -- -- 

The door slams, startling you enough to flinch as you drop your controller on the carpet. When you pick it up to continue with your game, there’s a dramatic sigh. 

“Everything okay?” You ask politely, rolling your eyes when you see your opponent score a basket since you weren’t able to play defense. 

“No,” Rosie says flatly. You hear her keys tossed on the entry table before she sighs again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offer. You even pause the game. 

“Maybe later,” Rosie says as she passes by, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Oh alright, well—” You aren’t able to finish your sentence because the sound of her door shuts before you can. 

You shrug, indifferent to her mood. You unpause the game, continuing on as if nothing happened. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about her, she’ll talk to you when she’s ready.

-- --

You were desperate at the time. There were too many things happening at once, that you forgot to look where you were going to live next. The only reason remembered was because the building manager showed up at your condo to do an inspection—a week before your move-out date. 

It was your fault, ignoring the paper notices in your pile of mail and the emails that flooded your inbox. You had just finished the last of your exams. Your job pushed you to take, time passing by, that it completely slipped your mind. 

Once the inspection was over, you called everyone and anyone you knew if they had a spare room on short notice. Most of them were either living with their significant others or had a roommate already. 

Except for Lisa. 

She was the only one with a viable lead. One of her best friends had recently moved back to Seoul from Australia and needed someone to offset the cost of the mortgage. 

You found out Lisa’s friend was a woman. You were hesitant because you had never lived with a woman except for your mother and sister when you were younger. You voiced the concern to Lisa, who laughed because you were ‘too adorable’ and that it didn’t matter to Chaengie if she lived with a man. 

You bit the bullet and agreed to meet with Chaengie, come to find out her name was actually Chaeyoung or Roseanne, but she preferred Rosie if you called her by her English name. 

Rosie was nice enough, easily charming you and making you feel comfortable when Lisa introduced you at her place. 

It was a nice condo in one of the more luxurious areas of Seoul. Open floor concept with floor-to-ceiling windows and separate rooms on opposite sides of the unit had you wondering what Rosie did. When you found out she was a lawyer, it made sense for her to afford a place like this. You were on the fence about what your share would be because it couldn’t be cheap, likely double what you were paying for your condo. 

After the brief tour, there wasn’t much since it was half-furnished, Rosie surprised you by telling you that you could pay as much as you do for your current place. She could afford the mortgage on her own, but she wanted someone to live with more than worrying about the money. 

It was a no-brainer, a steal in your opinion because living here at a discounted rate would work in your favor. Plus with passing your exams, you were expecting a bump in your salary.

You agreed, promising that it would only be temporary until things settled down. At most, six months was what you projected, but Rosie said to stay for however long you liked. 

That was almost a year ago. 

Living with Rosie wasn’t what you expected. 

You had no experience with living with a woman and the last time you had a roommate was when you were at university. 

You figured she’d want her space, not wanting to intrude or bother her whenever she was home. In the beginning, you kept to your room for the most part unless you had to cook, which wasn’t often. Your job had you putting in long hours at the office that you would crash as soon as your head hit the pillow.

It wasn’t until about a month or so in of living together and work slowed down, allowing you to come home at a decent hour when Rosie knocked on your door, asking if you wanted to watch a movie together. 

That was the turning point where it became calling her your roommate seemed like an inaccurate description. 

You spent more time with Rosie, getting to know her on a personal level. She had this way of sharing about herself that made you want to share too, something you hardly did. She made you laugh as she told you about her day. She would make you eat actual food instead of relying on takeout, asking you to help her cook. 

She was someone you admired that it created a dilemma when you realized you developed romantic feelings for her. 

It was short-lived because you found out by accident that she didn’t see you as anything more than a really good friend. 

You woke up late one Sunday morning. You heard voices in the kitchen, which wasn’t out of the norm as Rosie had her friends over frequently. It was a conversation you shouldn’t have listened to, but curiosity got the best of you when your name came up.

You recognized the voice—Jennie, one of Rosie’s friends you met a few times—asked, giggling, “Have you slept with him yet?” 

“What? Unnie, that’s absurd. He’s my roommate,” Rosie answered, heavy emphasis on the label.

You were hiding, tucked around the hallway corner as the women conversed. Your mother used to scold you for eavesdropping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 

“So? He’s hot,” Jennie stated matter-of-factly. You blushed at her comment. “He looks like he works out and there’s something about him that I know he’s just good in bed.” 

“Jennie!” You imagined Rosie’s face shocked at her friend’s brazenness. “He’s my roommate,” She emphasized again. “I have not, and will not, ever look at him like that. He’s a really good guy, but he’s off limits.”

“Does that include me?” You heard Jennie yelp after her question, the sound of skin-on-skin contact was enough. “If you’re not going to sleep with him, why can’t I?!” 

You didn’t bother listening anymore, deciding that you would go to the gym instead of joining them for brunch. You walked away feeling a little dejected, knowing where you stood with her, but you respected it. Things could get messy, especially since you lived together. 

(Though if you stayed a minute more, you would’ve heard Rosie say that she thought about asking you out once you move out.) 

As time went on, your feelings for her grew. It was hard not to, with how much time you spent together, your friends even asked if Rosie was your girlfriend based on how you often mentioned her. 

It wasn’t like you could not not talk about her. She became part of your routine, part of your life that you found yourself riddled with guilt whenever you went out on dates with women who were genuinely interested in you. You were certain you would’ve been too, if your feelings for her didn’t loom.

That didn’t stop Rosie from telling you about her dating life. It wasn’t as detailed compared to if she was talking to Lisa or Jennie, but it was enough to sting every time. 

You made a rule to yourself that you’d never bring a woman over, keeping those activities away. You were human after all, and you had needs. 

Rosie was unaware of the self-imposed rule, and there were a few times you caught her night-time partners leaving in the morning. Sometimes it would be the same person. Other times just passing flings you never saw again. 

It was what it was, and Rosie didn’t seem in a rush for you to move out. 

Though at some point, you would have to. You didn’t want to overextend your stay. You hoped to remain friends with her, regardless of how you felt. 

It would probably make it easier for you to get over these unnecessary feelings. 

Right? 

-- --

You scoop the sliced up fruit into the blender, eyeballing how much milk you needed, when Rosie walks into the kitchen. You send her an easy smile before turning the machine on to blend the ingredients so you could make it to work on time. 

Rosie stands on the other side of the kitchen island, waiting for you to finish. When you’re done, she says, “I’m sorry about last night.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “For…?” 

“I felt that I was short with you. You didn’t deserve that,” Rosie says apologetically. 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” You smile, nodding reassuringly. “Whatever happened, just know you can talk to me.” 

“I know,” Rosie returns the smile, standing abruptly to make her way over to you as she wraps her arms around you. You hope she didn’t feel you tense up because any physical affection with her leaves you dizzy. “I might be home a little later tonight. Jennie and Lisa want to take me out.” 

“Okay, just text me if you need me to pick you up,” You can’t stop smiling around her. “I’ll probably just be here, playing video games.” 

Rosie makes a humming sound, sinking into your body before taking a sip of your smoothie. “You haven’t been on any dates recently, everything okay?” 

The statement throws you off. It’s not like Rosie isn’t aware of your dating life and when you’re not home, but she’s never said anything like that. 

“Er, I just noticed you haven’t been out as much,” She backtracks, her hand rubbing your back. 

“Been busy with work,” You reply noncommittally. It’s true, work has been busy with your boss on your ass about finishing the security protocol for the new application that was developed. You probably should find some sort of release to ease the tension, but that could wait. 

“Well don’t work too hard, okay?” Rosie looks up at you, eyes filled with worry that you’re overexerting yourself. She boops your nose, grinning when you make a face. She lets go of you and blows you a kiss, “I’ll see you later. Have a good day!” 

And with that, Rosie’s out of the condo, leaving you more confused because that was just weird. It was even weirder that you missed her close to you, but that was something you were familiar with. 

Oh well. 

--

Someone’s trying to break in. 

It sounds like it, based on the aggressive knocking on the front door that has you rushing out of the shower. You only have enough time to throw on a pair of sweats, that when you swing open the door, wolf whistles ring through your ears as your eyes fall on Rosie first before realizing she’s being held up by Jennie and Lisa. 

“What the fuck happened?” You step aside as they usher your roommate inside, worry etching across your face.

“Jeez,” Jennie scoffs, “Hi to you too, oppa.” 

Once you close the door, you immediately reach for Rosie, steadying her as Lisa takes her shoes off. 

“You smell nice,” Rosie slurs out, nose falling right in the crook of your neck. You stumble slightly, bringing an arm around her back to make sure she doesn’t topple over. “Did you just come back from working out?” She asks, sighing contentedly against your skin. 

“Yes,” You nod, hoping she or her friends don’t see your cheeks turn red. “Are you okay?” 

Rosie giggles, nodding deeper into your neck, “Just a little drunk.” She holds up her thumb and finger in front of your face, meaning she’s really drunk. 

You practically carry her to the sofa with Jennie and Lisa in tow. They’re whispering something about you and you hear the latter mention how toned you are. Your face feels hot, but you avoid looking at them by having Rosie sit. 

“I’ll be right back,” You say as they sit on either side of Rosie. Her head falls on Lisa’s shoulder, eyes barely open. “I’m going to put a shirt on.”

“Please,” Jennie smirks, “By all means. None of us mind if you don’t.” 

You roll your eyes after she winks, earning a chuckle from Lisa. You refuse to engage anymore, not giving either of them the satisfaction, and leave to your room. 

When you return, fully clothed, Lisa is nowhere to be found and Rosie’s much more awake than when she arrived. Jennie’s over in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, raising the pitcher to you, which you shake your head. 

“You okay?” 

Rosie nods, shyly looking away, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this.” 

“It’s—”

“Chaeng, you literally got dumped for something so stupid,” Jennie cuts you off, aggressively slamming the fridge door. “It’s fine that you got drunk. You deserve to. You look hot, and people noticed.” 

There’s a lot of information to process, but you focus on the fact that Rosie had a boyfriend and you weren’t aware of it. 

“Uh,” You aren’t sure how to respond. 

“We’ll tell you about it,” Jennie appears in front of Rosie, holding the glass to her lips. “Lisa just went out to get some soju and beer.”

This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but it looked like you didn’t have much of a choice. 

--

You take whatever Lisa bought out of the bag. It consisted of soju and beer along with a bunch of snacks that seemed a lot like Rosie’s favorites. 

While waiting for Lisa, Rosie changed into more comfortable clothes. She asked if she could wear your hoodie since you left it out, which you didn’t see any issue with. Jennie, on the other hand, snickered as if there was some secret you weren’t a part of. 

You wanted to know what happened between Rosie and her boyfriend, but you didn’t want to be nosey. You respect her privacy, especially since you didn’t know she had one in the first place. 

As Lisa places the glasses on the coffee table, Jennie tells you the reason why Rosie got too drunk at happy hour to make it to the club. 

Apparently Rosie’s now ex-boyfriend was an asshole. 

Just not in the way you’d think. 

Jennie waits to see if Rosie will elaborate behind you, but her eyes are closed, head resting on one of the pillows. When there’s no response, Lisa asks a question that had you almost dropping the bottle you’re pouring.

“What?” You stop what you’re doing, staring dumbfounded at the two women across from you. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear her,” Jennie rolls her eyes. “Are you against foreplay?” 

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” You feel the tips of your ears burn because you might consider these two your friends, but they weren’t your friends that you spoke with things like this with. 

“An honest one,” Lisa answers, taking the bottle out of your hand to continue pouring the shots. “You’re of the male species, so we want your perspective on it.” 

You piece together what kind of asshole Rosie was with, and that could never be you. 

“No,” You mumble. “I’m not.” 

“Like you actually do it, right? It’s not just rubbing your dick over the girl and calling it foreplay?” Jennie’s choice of words has you annoyed. 

“What? You know what foreplay is, right?” You grab the shot glass, taking it in one go because it’s very much needed with where this conversation is heading. You ignore the scowls on their faces when you drink without them.

“I do,” Jennie points to herself, then tilts her head to Lisa, “She does too, but Chaeng, on the other hand, hasn’t been with someone who’s as… let’s say, giving in that department.” 

“Leave him alone you two,” Rosie yawns, stretching her arms up before sitting up. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s just keep drinking.” She reaches over you, since you’re sitting on the rug, and takes the soju bottle instead of a glass. 

Everyone watches Rosie take a lengthy swig before sinking back into the sofa. The defeated look on her face makes you want to hug her, which you will, but not in the presence of her friends. They’d relentlessly tease you both, something you can’t handle. There’s two of them. 

“To shitty sex?” Lisa raises her glass. 

“The absolute shittiest sex,” Rosie adds, holding the bottle up.

You have thoughts about that, but you can’t let yourself get too deep in them. It doesn’t help with the little (big) crush you have on her. 

You’re most likely delusional, but you think you could be someone that would show her what real sex was like.

Then again, like she’d give you a chance. 

--

“Get home safely, okay?” Lisa smiles, nodding as she holds Jennie up. “Make sure she drinks water.” 

“God, you’re so fucking nice,” Jennie slurs, eyes barely open. “Why don’t you just date Chaeng? She’d be so much happier. You’re also, like, really hot.” 

“Okay!” Lisa pulls her a little roughly, glaring even though Jennie is oblivious. “Time to go. Thanks again for having us over, we’ll see you soon.” She rushes out, turning before her friend could say anything else. 

You chuckle as they walk away, Lisa muttering something to Jennie that has you wondering how much truth there is to that statement. It’s a nice ego boost to find out Jennie, and by extension, Rosie, think of you as attractive. Even if it’s on a superficial, physical level. 

After you shut the door, you find your roommate curled on the couch. You wonder if she’s still awake, knowing she switched to water while the three of you continued drinking. You grab one of the blankets, unfolding it, when she yawns. 

“I’m still awake,” Rosie mumbles, one eye opening that stops you from covering her. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“You’ve apologized to me three times today,” You cover her body anyways, joining her on the couch. She gets cold easily. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’ve been having shitty sex.” 

Rosie groans, burying her face into the pillow, “God, that’s fucking embarrassing too. I’m sorry you—”

“It’s fine,” You wave dismissively. “Seriously though, that’s terrible.”

“Tell me about it,” Rosie sighs dejectedly, shaking her head. “For once, can’t a guy I date just return the favor?” 

You try not to react, but the alcohol you’ve consumed has lowered your inhibitions, so you boldly ask, “Has no one ever gone down on you?”

Rosie sits up, tilting her head curiously as she stares at you, “Well people have, but I guess never enough for me to enjoy it? I don’t know. Lisa and Jennie hookup from time to time, and share, in great detail, what they do. It makes me wonder if I’m missing out.” 

“I’d say you probably are,” You nod, recollecting memories of the women you’ve slept with thoroughly enjoying the action when you do it. You get off on it alone, but that’s because you like doing that. 

“God, who the hell do I have to meet to experience it then?” 

It’s a question you’re not expected to answer, but you find yourself saying, “No one. I can do it.” 

You want to smack yourself in the head for even suggesting that. It’s treading into dangerous waters because you have to remind yourself who she is in your life. She’s your roommate, for god’s sake. 

“You would?” Rosie asks innocently, as if this was as simple as changing the lightbulb in her room. “Like actually?” 

“Um,” You clear your throat, averting your gaze from her imploring one. “Yeah if you really wanted. I enjoy it so I’m not expecting anything in return.” Your face feels on fire. 

“Okay,” Rosie nods, and your eyes meet hers. “There’s no pressure if you change your mind.”

You scan her face, searching for something—anything—that she’s actually serious. You can’t tell if she is, and she senses your hesitation by adding, “I’m drunk enough to want it, but not that drunk where I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

That gives you some reassurance, but you care the most about how it would affect your friendship. It would have to change something, right? You’ve always separated feelings and sex when it comes to one night stands or flings, but you have real feelings for the woman in front of you, that could either help or hurt you.

You’re not sure which is worse. 

When you still don’t say anything, Rosie continues, “It won’t change anything between us. Just think of it as friends helping each other. Well, I guess in this case, you’re just helping me, but I could return the favor?” 

You shake your head, “No, that’s unnecessary. I’ll manage.” A flat out lie because you know that you’ll become a ball of sexual frustration. You’ll likely have to reach out to someone in your phone book to help out the problem you’re creating for yourself. 

“Are you sure?” Rosie asks softly, hand reaching out to your forearm. Her thumb gently rubs your skin, and your body heats up at the contact. 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to focus on what you’re about to do. “So how do you want to do this?” You’re not sure if kissing is a part of the deal, but you don’t want to push your luck. 

A blush appears on Rosie’s cheeks, shyly looking away. “Um, how do you usually do it?” 

“Are you really asking me about my moves?” You smirk. It earns you a light slap on the arm. “I don’t have very much.” 

Rosie scoffs, leaning back into the couch, “Why do I find that hard to believe?” 

“Because I have none,” You chuckle, moving to stand in front of her, in between the couch and coffee table. You kneel, pushing the table slightly back to give you more space. “Comfortable?” 

“Nervous,” Rosie breathes out as you settle on your knees.

“Don’t be,” You murmur, reaching for the edge of the blanket. “If you want to stop, just tell me.” 

You pull the blanket off, letting it fall to the ground. There’s a sharp inhale and you grin, meeting her eyes locked onto you. “Let me know, okay? I’ll stop, no questions asked.” 

“Okay,” Her voice shakes, body trembling as your fingers hook onto the waistband of her sweats. 

“This is about you. I can say with one hundred percent confidence that whoever refused to do this is a fucking idiot.” You mean it because with someone like Rosie, she deserves to be worshiped. 

And even if you’ll never be her boyfriend, you could do this. 

You gently tug her sweats off. She lifts her hips up, making it easier for the both of you, and once the clothing’s removed, you notice her cute underwear. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, just a simple black bikini cut with a small pink bow at the top. It’s adorable really, chuckling that her legs reflexively close.

“Don’t be shy,” You rest your chin on her knee, tilting down to place a soft kiss on her skin. Her legs slowly spread, granting you access to more skin.

“That tickles,” Her body shivers as your lips curl up. 

Your fingers grab the waistband of her underwear, slowly dragging it down her legs, watching them join the discarded pile. You settle in between as her knees separate, inviting you to taste her. Your cock stirs at the sight of her pussy, clean and well-kept, that your mouth waters.

You will, but you can’t give in just yet. 

You pepper kisses along her inner thigh, ghosting over her skin that has her absolutely squirming. You place your hands on her knees, spreading her wider and holding her still. You alternate between thighs, sucking lightly on the skin. You shouldn’t want to leave marks, but you can’t help it. You’ll deal with the repercussions later. 

Because the only thing on your mind is her and her alone. 

By the time you reach the apex of her thighs, Rosie sucks in a breath. You briefly glance up to her eyes low, teeth clenching her bottom lip. She gives you the smallest nod before you swipe your tongue in between her folds. 

You let out a breathy groan the moment her slick meets your tongue. Your mind shuts off, body turning on auto-pilot as you explore her center.

“Fuck,” The word falls from your mouth after tentative licks in between her folds. She squirms at the ministrations, taste buds ablaze as her slick drips down your chin. 

“Holy shit,” Rosie lets out a pretty moan, music to your ears as you insert your tongue inside her pussy. 

You swear she gets wetter, the scent of her pussy against your nose has you breathing deeply, soaking all of her in. You move with ease, licking and tasting all she has to offer.

“You’re making a fucking mess,” You growl out when you see the small wet spot form on the couch. You should probably put something under her, but the sounds she’s making are too good to stop. 

“I’m so fucking wet,” The sounds she’s making has you moaning against her pussy as your cock pulses in your sweats. “You feel so good.”

Rosie’s hand shoots to your head, fingers threading through your hair. It forces you to look up at her, and you shove your hand underneath your sweats, gripping your cock, because the sight is unholy. 

You’ve always been attracted to Rosie, that much was obvious the first day you met her. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t see the stares people threw whenever you were with her. Though, she was oblivious to it all, smiling back that would have them swooning. 

But like this? 

You’ve never seen anything hotter. 

You don’t know when it happened, but her hand slipped underneath her shirt, exposing more skin as she touched breasts, squeezing, massaging as your tongue continued its movement. Her hair’s an unruly mess, hair sticking up as a light sheen of sweat covers her face.

What really gets you is the lust-filled gaze, eyes narrowed, silently asking to continue. You’ve never seen her like this, and you can’t help but stroke your length. You keep your eyes locked on hers, tongue swirling in, over, around her pussy, leaving no spot untouched. 

Her grip on your hair tightens as she rolls her hips down, nose brushing against her clit. You slip your hand in between her legs, fingers teasing her outer lips before slowly inserting your index finger.

You watch Rosie’s eyes bulge, gasping, choking for air at the surprised intrusion. Her head tilts back, moaning as she rubs herself over your lower face. 

Rosie says your name like a prayer, a promise, an oath, that you’ll keep. You’d live your life in between her legs if it meant you get to hear her moan your name over and over. 

“God,” Your eyes roll back, intoxicated by her taste, getting harder the more she squirms against your mouth. “If I’m really the first person to actually do this, you’ve been having shitty sex.” 

“You are,” Rosie says through gritted teeth. “I realize that now.”

Her pussy practically sucks you in, your middle finger joining as her walls quickly squeeze around you. You want to make this last, but by the way she feels, and the way her breaths shorten with each inhale, she’s close. 

“Fuck,” Rosie’s hand never left your head, shoving your face deeper in her cunt as her legs spread wide, knees touching the couch. “I think I’m going to cum.”

“Go ahead,” You command, too lust-driven to watch what you say. “You’re so fucking hot. You feel so good around me. I wonder how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” 

You break character for a moment, explicitly sharing what you want. For a brief second, you wait for her to pull away because this is for her. Her body reacts differently. Her inner walls tighten deliciously after mentioning that, lighting a fire under you. 

“Yeah? You want that?” You taunt, scissoring your fingers, curling, rubbing the muscles. “Your pussy wants my cock huh? God, I’d cum so fucking fast.”

Your thoughts are all over the place, thinking of any and every position you want her in. You need something to relieve yourself as your cock throbs in your hand, blood rushing south as you feel dizzy.

On top of you, watching her hips swivel as she tries to take all of you. Or you’d want to see her ass bouncing on you, legs spread over your knees as you fuck up into her, impatient. Or bent over the couch, ass high as you impale her along your length, so hard that she falls over. 

You don’t realize you’re talking to her pussy, muttering all the filthy things you want to do, until she gushes over your face, screaming as her orgasm rips through her body. Her walls keep your fingers locked in, but that doesn’t deter you. You continue moving your fingers, curling up just enough to hit that spot inside her before both hands are around your neck, holding you there as she thrusts herself on your face. 

You feel lightheaded. You can’t breathe, suffocated by Rosie’s thighs, keeping you there as she grinds haphazardly all over your face. You groan, choking out air as your tongue repeatedly flicks against her clit that has her body spasming.

When you pull away, you gasp, chest heaving as you stare at the blissed out woman in front of you. 

“Holy…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, eyes closed as she’s not faring any better than you. “Your mouth.” 

Embarrassingly enough, you came inside your sweats. You rest your forehead on her thigh before giving her one last peck. You lean back, using the collar of your shirt to wipe your face. 

“So,” You nod, as if what you just did was an everyday occurrence. “I hope you enjoyed that.” 

“Thanks for that,” Rosie gets out in between breaths, eyes opening slowly. “Seriously.” 

“Anytime,” You cringe because it makes you sound desperate. If she asked though, you would do it again. And again. 

And again. 

“I might have to take you up on that,” Rosie sighs dreamily. You chalk it up to the hormones clouding her brain, especially since her orgasm was strong. 

You feel the wetness in your pants, which thankfully they’re black so you couldn’t see your release staining. You distract yourself by gathering Rosie’s clothes. She’s still trying to catch her breath, body limp against the cushions, so you help dress her, slipping her underwear as best you can. 

“It’s fine, I can do it,” Rosie says so softly that you look up, meeting her gaze and something shifts. You can’t describe it, but you could feel something close to adoration just by the way she looks at you. 

Again, you’ll blame the hormones and alcohol, but it scares you to see that she might, in some kind of way, like you the way you do. 

“Let me.” You’re stubborn in that sense. You’ve always been respectful of women. You do your best to make sure they’re comfortable, and aftercare is a part of it. Rosie relents, letting you dress her before covering her with the blanket again. “There. Want me to carry you to your room too?”

“Stop,” Rosie blushes, averting her gaze to anywhere else. “You’ve done enough. I’ll get there, just let me be.”

You nod, rubbing her knee before standing up. “Goodnight Chaengie.” You smile as she lets out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the couch. 

-- 

You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for Rosie’s return, as you sit on the couch. The very same couch you were in between Rosie’s legs. 

You haven't seen Rosie since Friday night. The following morning, you expected to see her, but you woke up to a text message that she would be out for the weekend with her family in Busan, something she mentioned before about a wedding she had to attend. 

It was a blessing in disguise since it gave you time to ruminate over what happened. 

You weren’t entirely sure how you felt. You knew for certain that you were horny and needed to fuck someone to get out all the pent up tension that your hand could not provide you. You wanted to do it again (and a whole lot more), but that wasn’t something you could ask of her.  

You hoped things between you hadn't changed because it would, for a lack of a better word, suck, if it did. You’d have to find a new place to live when you’ve gotten so used to being in her presence. You’d have to change your number because you wouldn’t be able to face her. You’d also probably have to never talk to Lisa again because the chances of you seeing Lisa with Rosie in tow were high. 

(You’re just being dramatic at this point, but still.)

Rosie sent you a message about an hour ago that she’d be home soon. You contemplated ordering take away from one of her favorite spots, but opted not to and would just ask her if she was hungry as soon as she walked through the door. 

You had to make it seem like nothing changed anyways. 

You almost don’t hear her walk in, too absorbed in your own head that the sound of her whistling breaks you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey oppa,” Rosie greets as she sits next to you, leaving a friendly amount of space in between. 

“Roseanne,” You nod, smirking when she rolls her eyes at the use of her full name. “How was the wedding?” 

“Same old, same old,” Rosie sighs, shoulders dropping as you watch the tension leave her body. “My aunts kept asking me when it would be my turn to get married since Alice-unnie’s engaged, and the disappointment on their face when I told them I’m single was priceless.” 

You chuckle, “I’m sure you could be in a relationship if you want to. It’s not like people aren’t interested.” 

“Eh,” Rosie shrugs, “I know people are interested, but after the last one, I think it’s in my best interest to be single to figure out what I want.” 

She has a point. You haven’t been in a relationship in years, at least nothing serious where you considered marriage. Sure you have flings here and there, but it wasn’t more than just sharing a few meals and spending nights with women who weren’t looking for anything serious. 

It was nice, but there were times you wanted something more than just that. 

You imagined it a lot over the weekend with Rosie, which you partly blame on your feelings for her and watching her cum on your tongue. 

“That’s good,” Is all you can really say without delving too deep in the turmoil you felt over the weekend. 

Rosie checks her phone for a bit, leaving a lull in the conversation. You want to say something to address what happened, but you feel awkward doing so. You stare blankly at the blank television screen as she responds to whoever. 

“What’s wrong?” Rosie asks after a couple minutes. 

“Oh, uh, nothing,” You rush out, avoiding her gaze burning on the side of your face. 

Rosie places her phone on the coffee table before turning to face you, tugging on your arm. You can’t help but look at her, noticing the concerned look she’s giving you. She waits, and you relent, sighing, “Fine, I thought things would be awkward.”

“Awkward because…?” Rosie trails off as you watch her face blush, realizing what you mean. “That? Nothing’s changed. Sure, you might’ve set the bar really high for people in that department, but it’s nothing to make things awkward between us.” 

“Rosie,” You deadpan. 

“Oppa.” She knows how much formalities like that irritate you, especially when it’s just you two. 

“You sure?” You ask, needing this reassurance from her because your friendship with her has become one of the most important things to you. 

Rosie nods enthusiastically, smiling, as she leans forward to rest her head on your shoulder, “Yes. More than sure. I felt comfortable the whole time and I don’t regret it.” 

You smile, the guilt of taking advantage of her lifting off your chest. It doesn’t lessen how you feel about her, but at least you could live with knowing that. 

“Sooo…” Rosie drawls out, playing with the sleeve of your shirt. “Did you want to do it again?” 

What?

“Uh?” You’re dumbfounded. 

“I mean you could say no!” Rosie says quickly, pulling away. “It was nice, like really nice, and I think it could be fun to do it every once in a while.” 

“You’re actually serious?” 

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t,” Rosie shrugs indifferently. 

You internally groan because you feel your cock starting to get hard at the thought of doing that again. You gain nothing from this except material for you to use after the fact because you still wouldn’t be able to ask her to help out. 

“Sure why not.” You’ll deal with your hormones after, in a very cold shower. 

“Really?” Rosie beams, giggling as she sinks into the couch. 

“Here? Or…?” You glance behind her to the hallway. 

“I don’t mind the bedroom,” Rosie whispers. 

That’s all the confirmation you need.

You stand abruptly, scooping Rosie in your arms, that she squeals at being carried. You chuckle as she playfully hits you, arms encircling around your neck tightly. 

“You’re so annoying,” Rosie mutters against your neck.

You try to ignore the sensation of her breath on your skin by pulling her closer to your body. You don’t want to drop her after all. 

“Yeah, well, in about ten minutes, you’ll be saying something else.”

“You promise?” 

“Absolutely.” 

-- -- 

It was a mistake, telling your friends about your situation with Rosie. They asked why you seemed happier because you couldn’t just be happy without a reason. 

Rosie may be the reason why, but well, you didn’t have an excuse. 

She is the reason why. 

Which is an odd thing to say because you literally don’t get anything out of this except a shit ton of sexual frustration that you deal with—alone. You haven’t had the heart to ask anyone on a date lately, or entertain the women that you meet when you’re out and about. 

You’ve done everything to Rosie you possibly could, yet she doesn’t get tired of your mouth. 

At the rate you two were going, you’ve had to have developed some kind of jaw problem. 

She asked one night, after you washed your face, while watching one of her shows before you went to bed, if she could sit on it. By her logic, and something you found out accidentally, she finds men who take care of themselves to be attractive. Not that that comment went to your head because then by your logic, she would have to find you attractive. 

There was a time when she wore an oversized shirt and nothing else except for cute cheeky underwear that you tried very hard not to notice as you were making a smoothie. It didn’t help that she kept shaking her hips in front of you when you asked her if she wanted something, which was met with her bending over against the counter. It wasn’t like you could say no, especially when she slowly pulled her underwear down. 

Then, there was another time after a night out that she practically pushed you to your knees to eat her out right against the door. 

With too many times in between, you’ve basically haven’t had a decent, satisfying release since this one-sided arrangement started—two months ago. Your hand could only do so much for you. 

Your friends may have noticed you were happy, but they also saw how on edge you were that they asked what was going on. You might’ve been a little too loose with your words to say you’ve been spending time with Rosie by doing that for her, but then you haven’t gotten anything out of it. 

“Bro, you just gotta fuck someone if she’s not going to fuck you,” Jungkook says in your ear as Taehyung and Minwoo nod in agreement.

“It just feels wrong to,” You sigh, shoulders dropping as you drop your head on the table. 

“Wait,” Minwoo raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you like Chaeyoung?” 

Your silence is enough for them. 

“Dude!” Jungkook slaps your back, much harder than you expected, jolting your head up. “What kind of shit is that? You haven’t fucked her. Hell, you guys haven’t even kissed.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” You almost growl out, eyes narrowing toward Jungkook that he switches spots with Taehyung. 

“Well that says a lot,” Minwoo nods to himself in confirmation. 

“What?” 

“You do like Chaeyoung, but we sort of—minus Kook—already knew,” Minwoo explains, sipping his beer. 

“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Shoulders dropping as you admit out loud that you do like Rosie. You may even be in love with her, but that’s something you’ll keep to yourself. 

Minwoo and Taehyung shoot you a sympathetic smile that makes you feel worse. Jungkook, however, completely misses the point, “Well why don’t you just fuck her out of your system?” 

“Do you always have to talk so crassly about women?” Taehyung sighs, shaking his head while slapping the back of Jungkook’s. 

“What!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot he hit. “I get it. It must be hard to live with someone and do something like that with them for nothing in return. By the way, you’re a saint because if I—” Jungkook doesn’t finish that statement as Taehyung hits him again. 

“Sorry Tae,” Minwoo shoots you a look, “I sort of agree with him.”

“You what?” You and Taehyung speak at the same time. 

“It’s not healthy by any means. You’re probably a god in her eyes, but let’s be honest, you know you need to,” Minwoo says matter-of-factly. 

“I mean, I guess? It just feels wrong to,” You reason, trying to make up an excuse. 

“Why? It’s not like you’re dating. She’s single as far as you know. I’m sure you could find someone tonight if you really tried,” Minwoo encourages, nodding his head to the crowd in the bar. 

“I invited Jeongyeon,” Taehyung says suddenly. 

“What, why? It’s supposed to be a boys’ night out,” Jungkook whines, pouting like a puppy that you all ignore. 

Taehyung glances at you before answering, “Nayeon’s in town. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see her since she’s hardly around.”

“Dude,” You glare at Taehyung, who isn’t fazed by your tone. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“What?” Taehyung shrugs. “You two ended just fine, and she’s also single. So why not have a nice one night stand with someone you know very well?” 

You want nothing more than to punch Taehyung in his face, but you also do not want to get kicked out of this bar you go to often.

Im Nayeon. 

A woman you haven’t seen in years, but she’s also the woman you dated for about three years. 

The breakup was amicable. No bad blood between you. Life was pulling you in different directions that neither of you wanted to give up your dreams to stay together. Nayeon moved to Busan while you stayed in Seoul. 

You’d be happy to see her on any other occasion, or maybe, any other moment in your life where you weren’t pining for someone that was your roommate. 

The problem is, Nayeon would actually be down to have sex with you. A problem that’s too tempting in the state that you’re in where, as your friends eloquently put it, you need to get laid. 

“I’m going home,” You stand, digging through your pockets for whatever bills you had. 

“Too late,” Minwoo mumbles before you hear Nayeon’s obnoxious laugh behind you. 

“What? Leaving already? I just got here, oppa,” The all-too familiar voice says as you turn around. You’re met with a toothy smile and eyes squinted that you can’t stop the smile forming on your face. 

Fuck. 

-- 

You’ve missed Nayeon. She has always been someone that made you laugh even when you’ve had the worst days. She still has the same obnoxious laugh and teases you to no end, but she’s different from how she was. 

Nayeon still has that level of immaturity when it comes to trivial things, but the way she carries herself proves she’s much more confident and sure of herself. She listens to what you tell her whether it be about work or how your sister wants you to spend more time with her, giving advice when appropriate. 

Your friends left you two alone when a billiards table opened up. Jungkook and Jeongyeon nodded approvingly like they were expecting something to happen tonight, which as things were unfolding was highly likely. 

“So are you dating anyone?” Nayeon asks after finishing the third round of drinks. 

You hesitate, quickly shaking your head as the bartender comes over and asks if you wanted anything else. It buys you some time, but once the drinks are poured, Nayeon waits for an answer. 

“I’m not,” You take a hefty swig, choosing your words carefully because Nayeon has a tendency to dice and analyze stuff like this. “It’s a bit complicated?” 

“When is it not with you?” Nayeon teases, biting her lip to hide her smile. “Tell me about her.” 

You thought it would be weird to talk to your ex-girlfriend about the woman you’re currently interested in, who happens to also be your roommate. She doesn’t say much, except for clarification on minor details, as you do your best to give a condensed version of who Rosie was to you. 

When you bring up that night, you wait to get scolded for taking advantage of Rosie, Nayeon surprises you by remaining indifferent. If you were looking at her, you wouldn’t have missed her eyes slightly narrowing as you describe how much Rosie uses this ‘perk’ frequently. 

You finish, and the weight on your shoulders feel a little lighter, like you can actually sit up straight for once. You see the wheels turning in Nayeon’s head, picking her words carefully. 

“Tell her how you feel,” Nayeon says softly, leaning slightly forward just enough to smell her perfume. 

“It’s really not that simple,” You sigh, leaning forward as your shoulder brushes against hers. 

Nayeon rolls her eyes, “It seems pretty cut and dry. You accidentally fall in love with your roommate, eat her out so well that you’ve practically ruined her for any other person, that she actually ends up falling in love with you too, but is too scared to do anything about it since you’re roommates. The only thing to quote unquote keep you is to ask you multiple times throughout the week to eat her out. Am I wrong?” 

“You’re so annoying,” You shake your head. 

“But you’re not saying I’m wrong, so just either tell her how you feel,” Nayeon reiterates, resting a hand on your thigh, “Or you’re going to get blue-balled to the point of insanity. Which for what it’s worth, is a loss for her because whenever you’re really riled up, sex is amazing.” 

“Nayeon,” You grit out, reaching for your drink because this is not what you want to talk about with her, of all people. 

Realization crosses her face and she giggles, hitting your thigh three times before saying, “You’re frustrated, aren’t you? Oh this is gold. I can’t believe you, of all people, are having trouble sealing the deal.” 

“Fuck off,” You pout, turning away to hide the embarrassment on your face. 

“Hey,” Nayeon says softly, affectionately, that it’s jumbling your thoughts as you try to separate how you feel about Rosie and the pent up energy waiting to be released. “I’m just kidding about the whole ‘sealing the deal’ part. It took a while to win me over.” It’s a joke between you because she was the one that pursued you after working on a project together. 

“Nayeon,” You sigh dejectedly as you turn to face her, resting your face in your hand. 

“Hm?” She raises an eyebrow after she sips her glass. You ask a question, but it’s barely audible. “Speak up.” 

“Do you want to spend the night together?” 

Nayeon doesn’t answer right away, choosing to swirl the ice in her glass. 

It gives you a chance to drink some water because the alcohol is definitely getting to you if you brazenly asked your ex-girlfriend to spend the night. There’s a part of you that wants her to say no thank you, but there’s a more selfish part that wants her to say yes. 

“When was the last time you had sex?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes, dragging it longer than necessary.

The question catches you off guard, but you answer, “Probably three months ago.” 

She makes a humming sound, raising her hand for the bill as the bartender walks by, “Fine. On one condition.” 

“What?” You shift on your seat, excited and eager that she’s agreeing. You pull out your wallet, handing your card to the bartender before he could hand her the bill. 

Nayeon leans forward, invading your space to feel her breath against your skin. You brace yourself for whatever she has to say. 

“Fuck me like I’m her.”

--

You hear footsteps across the hardwood floor, but it’s not enough to stop you from what you’re doing—making a smoothie. It isn’t until two arms wrap around your stomach that prompts you to stop. 

“You and these damn smoothies,” Nayeon mumbles, nuzzling her face into your back. 

“I made you one too.” Nayeon giggles, sneaking a hand underneath your shirt. Your muscles flex at her touch. “Having fun there?” You ask as her finger traces up and down, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Always with you,” Nayeon kisses your shoulder blade, peering her head around to watch. 

It’s nice to be like this with Nayeon. It’s familiar, the same sort of routine you had after spending countless nights together. You had a tendency to wake up before her, especially after a night like last night. 

Nayeon was insatiable—still is—and you both reaped the benefits of your sexual frustration. She wouldn’t let up, practically begging you to do all the things you wanted to do, as if it was Rosie you were fucking. She didn’t care how hard or fast you went because she knew how you were when it came to sex. 

There’s a bit of guilt that you couldn’t make it to your room. Nayeon practically jumped on you as soon as you entered the apartment, dragging you to the couch before the door fully shut. She was in your lap before you knew it, stroking you to a full mast that had you seeing stars. One moment you were groaning against her lips, the next she was kneeling in between your legs. 

The rest of the night was just you taking all your pent up frustration out. Nayeon welcomed it, spurring you on by whispering the thoughts you’ve had about Rosie in your ear. You nearly lost yourself to the sensation of Nayeon’s body wrapped around yours, overwhelming you when the picture of Rosie popped into your mind. 

It was almost morning by the time you both tapped out, exhausted and relaxed. You had never had anyone stay in your bed, but it was nice to cuddle with Nayeon before sleep took over. Rosie wasn’t home, vacationing with her family on Jeju Island, so you weren’t expecting their paths to cross. Nayeon had plans with her sister and mother anyways before she had to return to Busan. 

“Is your roommate home?” Nayeon asks once you hand her the smoothie.

You shake your head, turning around to face her, “Rosie’s coming home tonight.” 

Nayeon leans into you as you place your free hand on her waist, gently rubbing her back. “So…” The teasing glint in her eyes spells mischief. 

“Seriously?” You knew Nayeon had a high sex drive, but you’re not sure you have anything left. “Four times wasn’t enough?” 

“One for good luck?” The smoothie’s on the counter, her arms wrapping around your neck as she stands on her tiptoes. Her lips brush against yours, murmuring, “You know you want to.”

You couldn’t ignore the effect she has on your body, cock awakening when she presses her body just enough. Nayeon’s hot, and she knows how to push every single one of your buttons. 

“Why not right here?” Nayeon nips at your bottom lip, sucking lightly.

“There’s food on the counter,” You reason, eyes closing as you move your lips languidly against hers. 

“And…?” Nayeon pulls away, dropping on her heels. 

Your eyes open slowly, hand immediately dropping when they land on Rosie standing in the hallway. 

It’s like a deer caught in the headlights. You watch her mouth open and close, but no sound comes out. Nayeon senses your body tense, head turning slightly and a grin forms on her face. 

“Hi,” Nayeon says casually. She turns around so that her back’s against your front. She loops your arms around her waist as you stifle a groan at her bottom pressed directly over your crotch. “I’m Nayeon, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Rosie right?” 

You didn’t realize Nayeon’s clothing choice because she’s wearing one of your shirts, falling mid-thigh. She’s wearing her underwear, at least, but even that does nothing to hide the small love bites you left on her skin. 

Rosie clears her throat, “Yeah.” You hear her voice crack. “It’s nice to meet you too. Um,” Her eyes shift to yours, “I’ll leave you two alone. Sorry to, uh, intrude.”

You’re barely able to get a word out before Rosie rushes to her room, leaving you and Nayeon to watch her door quietly shut. The woman in your arms chuckles, shaking her head. 

“That was rude,” You lightly scold, pinching her stomach. 

“Look,” Nayeon shakes you off before turning to face you, crossing her arms, “Give it a month, at most three, you’ll be together.” 

“You were toying with her,” You roll your eyes, mirroring her stance. 

“How?” Nayeon snaps, eyes glaring. “Neither you nor I knew she was going to be here this morning. Maybe her seeing you with someone else was a wake up call.” 

“Yeah but still, you didn’t need to do all that,” You argue. It’s a weak position, but you had to justify it somehow. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty. You literally came inside me twice. Call a spade a spade, you fucked me while thinking of her, which I have no issue with. My issue is, how long can you act like you’re not in love with her?” You almost interject, but she raises a finger, “I know you are. Give me that, at least.” 

Nayeon stares, waiting for your response, but you have nothing. She’s right in every sense because you are in love with Rosie.

“It may have been a few years since we dated, but I still care about you,” Nayeon continues to talk, sending you a sympathetic smile, “Just be honest with yourself and her. There’s something there.” 

“Okay,” Your shoulders sag, avoiding her gaze. You’re probably pouting based on Nayeon’s fingers suddenly cupping your chin, tilting your head up. “What?” 

“It’ll work out, trust me. You might not know girls as well as I do, but it was all over her face.” You raise an eyebrow. “She’s jealous.” 

-- -- 

You’re confused, stumped even on how to proceed. 

Things have been awkward. 

It’s not like you’re avoiding each other because you still see her in the mornings and evenings. It’s always a brief conversation about how things are going, then Rosie excuses herself either to her room or she has plans. 

You might as well be avoiding each other. 

You feel the need to explain yourself, but Nayeon has been in your messages saying that you owe her nothing because it’s “her thing to deal with”—whatever that means. You tried asking her to explain, but she was adamant to just wait. 

It’s been a couple weeks since you spent the night with Nayeon. Rosie’s been distant ever since.

Lisa’s birthday party is this evening and you briefly spoke with Rosie to go together, but she isn’t home yet. You caught her this morning to confirm plans, which she was all for, quickly agreeing before she left for work. 

Rosie’s late. You have half the mind to call her and ask her where she is. The party started at seven, and when you glance at the clock, it’s five past. It’s normal to arrive late to events, but it’s a good drive across town that Lisa would give you a hard time if you show up after Jennie. 

You contemplate leaving without Rosie when the front door swings open a minute later. 

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and my coworker needed help with her opening statement,” Rosie rushes out when she sees you sitting on the couch. “Give me, like, three minutes.” She doesn’t give you a chance to respond as she hurries to her room. 

You weren’t planning on drinking. You haven’t since you saw Nayeon because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of Rosie. It’s the first time since that morning where you’ll actually be hanging out with her, even though your friends will be there too. 

You don’t keep track of time, but the sound of heels on the hallway floor brings your attention to Rosie. Your jaw nearly drops because she’s absolutely stunning. She’s wearing this brown sheer outfit? You don’t know how to explain it. It’s revealing, her pale skin looks luminescent under the fabric. Her top’s fucking open, stomach showing as it flows over her skin, rustling through her purse before her eyes meet yours. 

“Ready?” 

You clench your jaw, averting your gaze before returning. You prayed to whatever higher being that she doesn’t realize you were practically undressing her with your eyes. You try to play it cool, nodding with a soft yeah. 

Rosie nods, “Let’s go.” 

You desperately want to reach out, pulling her body against yours to whisper to her all the things you want to do to her, but you don’t. You just hoped that things would go back to normal, whatever normal was. 

-- 

Rosie laughs, shifting in your lap as Jennie tells her something about someone they know. You stifle a groan as that particular movement has your cock straining against your slacks. You readjust your legs, as Rosie settles more into you, having the nerve to loosely wrap her arm around your neck. You don’t know if she knows what she’s doing to you, but you have a feeling she does.

The party’s in full swing. A few of Lisa’s friends are singing off-tune while the rest are conversing, drinking. You could be enjoying it more, engaging more, if it wasn’t for the problem in between your legs. Something caused by the very woman who’s animatedly talking about another person they know. 

The drive from the apartment wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good. The conversation was stiff, forced, and the songs from Rosie’s phone filled the silence. You felt like you didn’t know what to say after the night with Nayeon, embarrassed that she caught you like that, even though your ex-girlfriend aggressively reminded you that you two weren’t dating. Rosie spent most of the ride on her phone, typing away to whoever or scrolling through her socials. 

Stop lights had never felt so long. 

It wasn’t until you parked that Rosie broke the ice. 

“I don’t want things to be weird between us,” Rosie said quietly, unbuckling her seatbelt to face you. “I’m sorry I was rude to Nayeon, and I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.” 

You changed your position, turning your head, “I’m sorry too. Let’s just go back to how things were before?” 

She tilts her head, expression unreadable that the hairs on your neck stand. There’s a sudden tension in the air that you can’t quite place, but being this close to her has your senses heightened. 

“Sure,” Rosie’s voice barely comes out in a whisper, “Let’s do that.” 

It was nice to see all the people here to celebrate Lisa, but what made it even nicer was Rosie was always next to you. She might not have been directly part of the conversations you were having, but she was always close by. At one point, her fingers threaded through yours, palm soft against your skin. 

When Jennie arrived, she immediately pulled you with her. She guided you to sit on the free space on the bench. You were about to move to make room when her hand was on your shoulder, stopping you, and she sat in between your legs. 

“What about you, oppa?” The question catches you off guard, breaking you out of your thoughts. You haven’t been paying attention to their conversation, so you have no substance to contribute. 

“You okay?” Rosie asks, a sly smirk on her face, confirming she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s getting the reaction she wants. “You look… distracted.” 

Clearing your throat, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too hoarse, “Just great.” It must not work based on the chuckle she lets out. “Sorry, what are you two gossip queens talking about?” 

Jennie’s eyes narrow, huffing, “First of all, we weren’t gossiping. I was just telling Rosie about my trip to France with my mother. And to answer your question, I asked what was new with you.” 

Oh. 

That was easy to answer. There hadn’t been much going in your life since you last saw Jennie, which wasn’t too long ago. By the time you finish telling her about an upcoming business trip to the United States, a mischievous glint forms in her eyes. 

“Dating anyone?” The woman in your lap stiffens at the question. “Rosie mentioned that you had someone over recently.” 

“Oh well,” You shrug, not entirely sure how to answer. “Yeah, I did. It was just a one night stand.” 

“So you aren’t dating her?” Jennie prods as the tension rolls off Rosie’s body. 

“No, I’m not dating anyone.” You answer flatly, slightly annoyed with her sudden interest in your dating life. 

“Interesting,” Jennie nods, crossing her arms as she leans back. She seems satisfied with your answer, glancing at Rosie who still feels tense. You sneak a hand around her, arm resting on her waist as you give a reassuring squeeze. Her body relaxes into your touch. You missed how Jennie observed the small interaction, only hearing her say, “Very interesting.”  

-- 

This is dangerous, very dangerous. 

You didn’t know what was worse–getting caught or dying. Though there was a thrill that came with the former. 

You couldn’t pinpoint what changed, but as soon as you and Rosie entered the car, that same heavy tension was there. You couldn’t ignore it, and it didn’t seem like she could either, by the way she kept fidgeting in her seat as you drove home. 

It snapped the moment you hit a red light because suddenly Rosie’s lips were on yours. You couldn’t help the small moan being swallowed by her mouth eagerly on yours. You practically melted into the kiss, leaning over to the center console, but the sound of the car horn blaring behind you had you reluctantly pulling away. 

“How well can you drive?” Your eyes were focused on the road when Rosie’s hand rested on your thigh. You thought it was a weird question to ask. She had been in the car with you numerous times and you take safety seriously after a wicked crash when you were younger.

“Uh, pretty well?” You answered dumbly, braking slowly as the next traffic signal turned red. 

“Good,” Rosie nodded, hand inching dangerously closer to your crotch. 

“Chaeng,” You glanced down, watching her hand swiftly undo your belt. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Eyes on the road,” Rosie murmured. Her other hand reached over, unbuttoning your slacks just enough. “Don’t crash.” 

Another car horn went off, giving you no choice but to drive. You saw Rosie move the seat belt, freeing her movement as her body leaned over the center console. 

“Chaeng,” You groaned the moment her hand made contact, slipping your cock out of your briefs. 

“Don’t crash.”

You couldn’t make any promises. Your body jerked when you felt her lips gently brush over you, tongue licking slowly over the tip. 

You definitely weren’t expecting any of this tonight, but you weren’t against it. 

Even if it jeopardizes your safety and life.

“Fuck,” You mutter underneath your breath as Rosie’s mouth takes you in again. She goes lower on your length, the apartment building getting closer. The grip on the steering wheel tightens when you hit the back of her throat. “Chaeng,” You warn, your control slipping as your foot presses on the accelerator. 

Her mouth’s immediately off you, but she keeps her hand wrapped around you. Your body tenses, unsure of her next move. You focus entirely on the road, and not on her hand slowly stroking you. 

“I had a feeling you were big,” Rosie says casually, leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think it’ll fit?” She murmurs against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Her lips press on your jaw, muscle tensing underneath her touch. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you take a tight turn into the driveway, but it comes out as a gasp because she decides to drop her head. 

“Dear fuck,” You groan, peeling into the assigned parking spot. By the time you put the car in park, your fingers thread through her hair, hips thrusting up. 

Hitting the back of her throat, Rosie shoots up, gasping for air before her warm, wet mouth’s around you once again. Your fingers tense, tugging at her hair when she chokes, throat constricting around your length. Your head falls back against the headrest as a pit forms in your stomach. 

“I’m, I’m—fuck,” You can barely start your sentence, grip loosening as your vision blurs. 

“You’re doing so well for me.” You know that Rosie’s talking to you, and the praise does something to you. “You deserve this,” She continues, hand steadily stroking with the occasional lick along the underside of your length. “I’ll be good for you. I’ll let you finish inside my mouth, yeah?” She goads, voice dropping an octave, driving you absolutely insane. 

“Fuck, yes, yes,” You chant, nodding desperately before making a mistake that ends you. 

You gain some semblance of control of your body, eyes opening and looking down right when Rosie’s pretty lips wrap around your cock. You whimper, hand shooting to the back of her head, as you release into her mouth. You choke out a few breaths, hips driving upward as you push her head farther along. You’re met with no resistance, feeling her throat relax when her nose touches your pubic bone. Your vision goes white, a guttural groan falls from your lips, feeling her cheeks hollow as you just keep cumming. 

You don’t know where you start and she ends, but when it does, Rosie lifts her head. You see the smallest dribble of your cum on her chin, painting a vivid image of her face covered in you. You watch her bring her thumb up, wiping it into her mouth, licking her lips before meeting your fucked out gaze. 

“Open your mouth,” You say quietly, lifting your hand to cup her chin. She follows your command, slowly opening her mouth, and all you see is pink, no trace of you inside. “Good girl,” You murmur, pulling her lips to yours.

Sighing contentedly, Rosie’s lips move languidly against yours. She pulls away after a few moments, resting her forehead on yours, “Sleep with me tonight?” 

Whatever she wants. 

--

No sleep was happening. 

You were naive to think you’d actually be sleeping. 

Once you made yourself somewhat presentable, in the event you saw another tenant, you let Rosie pull you out of the car. Your knees almost buckled the moment you stood, but she was there to catch you, giggling against your chest as she held you up. 

“You’re being dramatic,” Rosie commented as you draped an arm around her. 

“You sucked the literal life out of me,” You couldn’t help your bluntness. The hormones were still releasing and all you wanted to do was pull her into you more. “I could’ve crashed,” You added, unsure of how you made it, but thankful you did. 

“Well thanks,” Rosie said, a blush forming on her face that you don’t miss. “For, you know, keeping us alive.” 

You smiled, eyes drooping as Rosie dragged you to the elevator. She lightly scolded you when you’d drop your weight onto her, huffing cutely before snuggling deeper into your side. That was a win for you. 

When you finally made it inside the apartment, your body was on autopilot and went straight to your room, Rosie glued to your side. 

“Oppa,” Whining as she struggled to get out of your hold, “I want to change.” 

You hardly pay her any mind, falling onto your bed and taking Rosie with you. She shrieked, hitting your back. 

“Go change,” You mumbled, head turning to face her. “Come back when you’re done.” 

Rosie booped your nose with her pinky, getting up before you could react. You heard her giggles as she ran out of the room. You were sure you were sporting a dopey smile. 

You decided to follow suit. Changing in your mind was shrugging off your pants and haphazardly taking your shirt off, barely undoing any of the buttons. You tended to have a more thorough nightly routine that involved you sleeping in more clothes, but you were in too much of a relaxed state to care.

It could’ve been hours, dozing in and out of sleep, when it was really only ten minutes before Rosie returned. 

“No pajamas?” Rosie scoffed playfully. 

You opened one eye and saw her nightwear choice. An oversized shirt you recognized immediately since it was your shirt that went missing a few months ago. You chalked it up to being left on vacation, but here it was, barely covering the culprit’s body. 

“No clothes of your own?” You retorted, earning a smack on your back. 

“Whatever,” Point you. “Let’s just sleep now.” 

Sleep my ass. 

“I told you,” Rosie gasps, body trembling as she folds forward, lips pressed against yours. “I’d be good for you.” 

“So fucking good,” You moan watching your length disappear in between her legs. “Such a good girl.” 

You were on your side, your hand resting high on Rosie’s waist. You were trying to sleep, but she kept squirming. It wasn’t until she was pressed up against you that she stopped. 

Or so you thought she’d just fall asleep. 

As your body relaxed, inhaling the scent of Rosie so close to you, you felt her hand in between your bodies, landing perfectly on your crotch. She started slowly, cupping and rubbing your cock over the fabric. You couldn’t help the bodily response, hardening as time went on. 

“Chaeng,” You moaned softly against her head. 

“I want you,” Rosie whispered, her lips placing a kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Let me be good for you.” 

You didn’t know how she did it, but you were suddenly on your back with Rosie on top of you. You couldn’t remember if she wore anything underneath your shirt, but the warmth of her center over your briefs has you lost in the sensation. 

“You know,” Rosie’s hands worked quickly to pull you out, “I’m usually not this forward, but,” You whimpered when she guided your cock to her slit, “I’ve been thinking about this since you let me sit on your face while we were watching a show. Want to hear a secret?” 

You nodded, too entranced by her playing with your cock against her. She could be telling you that she committed murder. 

“I couldn’t help but touch myself again later that night,” Rosie inhaled sharply when she brushed you against her clit. “I saw your sweats tented and imagined what you’d feel like.” 

If you remembered correctly, that time she mentioned wasn’t too long after the first time. That made you dizzy to think about because she already came over your face, but she still touched herself after. 

And that was hot. 

“Guess I’m about to find out.” 

Bringing you to fill Rosie to the hilt, swallowing the moans she lets out against your lips. Your head falls onto the pillow, watching her steady herself as her body adjusts to the intrusion. 

“Am I doing well?” Her eyes are low, barely being held open as you watch the pleasure wash over her face. 

“You could do better,” You bring your hands behind your head. Her eyes widen when you roll your hips, telling her in a not-so-subtle way to show you just how good she could be. 

Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth shut, but you have never been known to say the most appropriate thing. Your words light a fire in her, and you see the switch happen in real time. 

“Better?” Rosie shifts slightly, resting her knees at your sides while keeping you snug in between her warm walls. “Okay,” She nods before slowly raising her hips as your cock appears. 

Rosie goes for the kill, slamming her body against yours. Your hands shoot to her hips, the move startling you. She repeats the motion again, again, and again. 

“Good?” Rosie pulls away, sitting upright. 

“So fucking good,” Is all you know how to say and you keep saying that when Rosie moves her body on top of you, undulating her hips. 

You’re hypnotized as she works herself over you, swiveling her hips and rolling her body. You watch her movement stutter, realizing quickly she found the perfect tempo and spot. You can’t ignore the knot forming as she continues her ministrations. She’s moving faster, signaling she’s close. You also can’t ignore how soaked it is between your bodies. 

“Such a good girl,” You mutter absentmindedly, her pace increasing as her inner muscles tighten. “Good girls cum, yeah?” 

Rosie nods, mewling in your lap, “Yes, I’m good. I know I’m being good.” She babbles, eyes rolling back as she tightens forcefully around you, body wracked with tremors as her orgasm hits. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hips move on their own accord, thrusting up into her as your hands pull her along your cock. “Do you want me to pull—”

Rosie vigorously shakes her head, collapsing into you as she grabs your hands off her hips. She pins your hands over your head. You feel her walls contract, squeezing you tightly that you can’t stop yourself from cumming, painting her insides white. Your lips find hers, a filthy moan leaves your mouth as you let everything out. 

“It’s so much,” Rosie gasps out, small aftershocks hitting her body as you roll your hips up, prolonging both your orgasms. 

You didn’t realize how hard you were gripping her hands until you felt a gentle squeeze. She’s a mess on top of you, hair wild and all over the place as she catches her breath. 

You kiss her temple, breathing hard as her body goes limp on top of yours. You carefully move to pull yourself out, wincing at the release in pressure. Her sudden intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed, kissing her again. 

“Sorry,” You whisper. It all feels wet down there and the sicker side of you wants to see what it looks like, but you have a feeling this will happen again. 

“Sleep,” Rosie mumbles, burying her face into the crook of your neck. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. You agree that sleep is what should happen next, but you couldn’t leave her like this—as hot as it would be. 

“Let me clean up first,” You coo. She doesn’t respond, the light snores you hear below has you rolling your eyes.

You do your best to maneuver yourself out from underneath her, minimally disturbing her as you roll out of bed. You grab what you need from the bathroom to come back to Rosie laying on her stomach. You try to clean the mess you made, internally battling with yourself if you should move to her room. 

Rosie’s too adorable in your bed that you decide not to. You pull a pair of old shorts out, slipping it on her frame. When you're satisfied with what you could do, you shut the lights off. 

You’ll have to change your bedsheets at some point, but Rosie curling into your side as soon as you slide underneath the comforter makes you forget about it. 

-- -- 

You’re grinning as soon as you walk through the door. Your eyes immediately fall onto Rosie staring intently at her laptop screen as she chose the kitchen as her office for the day. 

“Jagiya,” You say affectionately when you’re behind her, kissing her sweetly on the top of her head. “I have news.” 

Rosie’s half paying attention, humming as you massage her shoulders. “What?” She asks distractedly, typing away.

“I’m moving out,” You announce, proud of the statement as the sound of her keyboard stops. 

“You’re what?” 

“I’m moving out,” You pull up the stool to sit next to her. 

Rosie raises an eyebrow, confused at what you’re saying because you’ve been living together for two years and dating for almost a year. 

It should’ve been a weird transition—the whole roommates turned lovers thing—but it actually wasn’t. It was almost too easy, in which the only problem you had was who’s room you were sleeping in. 

“Where are you going?” She asks pointedly, crossing her arms whenever she felt she was getting tested. 

It’s a test she’s thinking too hard about. 

You say an address, one you’re both familiar with, and you chuckle when you see her nose scrunch. 

“Uh… Okay…” Rosie trails off, puzzled at your news. “Did something happen?” 

You see the wheels turning in her head, thoughts and memories flickering through her mind as she racks her brain over what you’re getting at. 

“Nope,” You respond simply, popping the p. “Are you going to ask which unit?” 

“You’re being difficult,” Rosie huffs, shaking her head. “Where the fuck are you moving?” 

“This one,” You say simply, grinning as her expression goes blank. 

“What?” 

You reach out, pulling her body onto your lap. Nuzzling your face into her neck, “I’m moving in.” 

“You’ve been moved in, dumb dumb,” Rosie flicks your forehead. “What’re you getting at? I’m getting irritated.” 

“Well, oh love of my life,” You peck her cheek sweetly, ignoring the glare she sends your way. “Let’s turn my room into an office since we spend most nights in your room. Yours is bigger anyways.” 

It’s been gnawing at you for the past month. There were a few things you had been waiting for too before bringing it up. Number one being this promotion your bosses really want you to have with a larger increase in your pay. 

“What about all our clothes?” Rosie asks after a moment. Of course that would be on her mind, out of everything. 

“We just move some things around,” You say easily, shrugging because that isn’t that big of a deal. “I love you.” 

“And I love you too,” Rosie smiles, looping her arms around your neck as she leans forward. “But we really don’t have to do all that. I don’t mind working out here!” She gestures to the living room and kitchen. 

You shake your head, smiling softly, “I know you don’t, but I do. You should be able to separate the spaces.” 

It’s definitely more of a you thing because you want Rosie to be able to work without it bleeding into the areas she spends the most time in. She hasn’t complained, but you could tell she never actually relaxes when she’s home. 

“You’re sweet,” Rosie mumbles, lips pressed against yours that you find yourself smiling. You lower your arms, wrapping loosely around her waist to bring her closer. She lets out a hmph before melting into the embrace. “You’re so good to me.” 

The praises echoes in your mind, groaning softly when she moves her lips against yours. “So, so good,” She breathes out that the grip on her waist tightens. 

“Chaeng.” She’s highly aware of the effect that has on you, but you’re preparing yourself for what she does next. 

“I think I should reward you,” Rosie’s index finger trails down your jaw. “You take care of me so well.” 

You can’t even say anything as Rosie kisses you one last time before taking a step back, slowly dropping to her knees. The sight of her in between your legs is one you never tire of. 

“Be good baby,” You scratch the top of her head, undoing her ponytail as blonde hair frames her face. 

“For you? Always.” 

-- -- -- 

[bunnys-kisses]

dutchman's tongue

max versappen

cw: oral/fingering (femme receiving), afab!reader, loosely translated dutch and french (it's been a while since i spoke it), doggy style, unprotected sex,

bunny says: congrats on the win last week max! it's good to make use of my ability to speak/write in dutch and french (although a lil rusty!)

max had a way with his tongue. growing up in belguim there are three official languages but the two being french and dutch. you found his linguistic talents very interesting.

a lot of the time it was quite comically, he'll know the word in english, but somewhere along the way of thinking it, it'll get translated into one of the other languages we spoke.

"that thing." he snapped his fingers. he squeezed his eye shut to think of the word, "come on."

you looked at him, not even know what he was thinking.

"chou-fleur."

"cauliflower?" you replied.

he nodded, "yes!" he smiled at you. you had picked up a rough estimate of the other languages he spoke. while your conversations were mostly in english, you tried to impress him with your own linguistic abilities.

he smiled and kiss the top of your head, "good job, schatje! i am so proud of you." then took you by the cheeks to kiss them.

but also max was good at other things with his tongue. you found out early on in your relationship that he quite enjoyed going down on you. he loved your thighs around his head as he lapped and finger-fucked your pussy.

it was the morning after the canadian grand prix. it was cloudy and cool out, the window to your hotel room was open. you laid in a mess of pillows and blankets with your lover. you were laid next to him.

last night was fun, montreal was the city to be if you wanted to party. but the morning after you felt tired all over. max's nose was in your hair and basically snoring in your ear. you rolled over and got closer to his side.

you yawned and lifted your head to gaze down at him. you reached out and cupped the side of his face with affection. he was the winner after all, it was no strong feat given how the weather was.

"good morning." you said as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. his soft skin against your lips made your heart leap.

his eyes open slowly, his tongue was loose when he said, "goedemorgen, mijn schat." his hand reached for you and patted the side of your face. he looked more tired than you did.

"i guess we had some fun last night."

he nodded and yawned, "we did."

you kissed the side of his face and got up out of bed. the exhaustion hung heavy on your shoulders as you got up. but you weren't up for long as max took you by the wrist and brought you back into bed.

"max!" you yelped but were soon met by cuddles from your boyfriend. his arms wrapped around you middle and his nose dipped into your neck.

"où penses-tu aller?" his asked slowly, his hands started to touched your nude body, "j'espère que tu n'essayes pas de t'enfuir, mon amour?"

you looked behind you to glance at him, "are you trying to seduce me?"

"i am simply asking where you are going, my love. i am hoping you aren't running away from me." he rested his chin on your shoulder, "we have the whole day to ourselves."

"no we don't, you have to do interviews." you recalled.

he groaned, "and i can't stay all day in bed with you."

"nursing a hangover."

"no, no." he kissed your cheek, "to be so close to you." his cock pressed against your back, "you looked amazing last night, all dolled up for me. you were beautiful, mon amour."

you reached over, with max still clinging to you, and looked at your phone, it was still early enough. you put the phone down and turned in his arms so you were facing one another. you placed both hands on his bared chest and leaned in for a kiss.

"we have two hours before you have to get ready. i can get you something for your head... or i can give you head?"

he grinned at you, those blue eyes looked into yours. he replied, "actually, i was thinking i could... go down on you inside." he winked.

"max."

"i got all the celebration i wanted last night. i want to give you something in return. for being there, always." he let go of you and with your help got between your legs with your thighs around his head.

he rested his chin on your stomach and gazed at you. you tried not to feel self conscious about the angle of your face. but he continued to gaze at you like he had hearts in his eyes.

"i probably have the worst double-chin right now."

he shook his head, "who cares, you're still the most beautiful woman in the world." he rubbed his face against your abdomen like he was trying to his scent all over you. sometimes he'd do this thing where he'd ramble in dutch or french, he knew you weren't exactly catching what he was saying.

he started to speak about something in french as he got between your legs, your thighs now on his shoulders. the softness of them were against his ears as he leaned in to your cunt.

"et puis je t'ai vu dans les tribunes, les cheveux au vent. et je savais que je devais gagner. ce serait la seule façon de te rendre fier, mon amour. je te vois et je perds toute notion du temps. rien d'autre ne compte sauf te voir." he rambled before he lined his tongue up with your slit, he gave you one last look as he said, "je vous aime." then gave your pussy as sweet kiss before he started to lap at your sex.

you felt heat in your cheeks as he held your thighs on his shoulders. his tongue continued to pleasure you as you squirmed on the bed. he was keeping you pinned to him.

"ah, ah, ah." he said, "stay still." then continued his movements against your cunt. you could feel the burn in your cheek the more pleasure raced up your spine.

your breathing started to get heavier. pleasure coursed through your body the more than he pleasured you orally. you could admit easily that he was rather impressive when it went to going down on you.

you knew he was still running on the high of the race, his own head was racing as your thighs clenched around his head. you gripped onto his dark hair and moaned loudly.

"tu aimes ça, mon amour ? est-ce que tu aimes la façon dont je te fais plaisir?" his own cheeks were stained pink as your wetness clung to his chin.

"oh my god." you groaned, "why does it sound so fucking hot."

he kissed your inner thigh and looked up at you, "because you know how good i am with my tongue." then dragged his tongue across your inner thigh that made your toes curl.

he kept one hand on your left thigh and the other hand between your legs. he began his motions once more but this time adding his fingers. he sank them easily into your hole as he played with your clit against his tongue. occasionally his front teeth grazed against it and you moaned louder.

the rush of pleasure continued to course through your body, the more he played with you. he occasionally looked up at you to get a good look at the expressions you were making.

he gripped your thigh with love as he felt your cunt clench around his fingers inside of you.

"please, max!" you whimpered as you pressed your thighs closely around his head. you panted and moaned, the pleasure was overwhelming.

and he kept pleasuring you, he kept at it. with an endurance and focus that let him with the race the day prior. his cock throbbed between his legs, pressed against the bed as he focused on your pleasure.

"max, fuck."

"blijf stil, mijn liefste." he said softly, switching up the languages to see how you'd react.

it didn't take long before pleasure washed over you. your body clenched as the rust hit your brain and pooled in your stomach. with tugged on your hair and kicked out your legs before you felt the hit of it all.

you laid there on the bed and he pulled his head from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. those blue eyes gazed at you with such affection.

he got out from between your legs, "not it's time for my turn, mijn liefje." he rested on his heels and looked down at you, his cock stood at full attention.

you looked at him, with lust in your gaze. you let your lover turn you onto your hands and knees. your face was buried in the pillow with your ass in the air.

"my love." he said with a heat in his voice. your cunt was on full display to him. the rush of blood to his cheeks was noticeable as he got behind you. he stroked his cock a few times to the sight of your slick pussy.

"please, max." your blood was rushing which was only making your hangover more prominent.

"i have you, my love." he said as he slowly sank his cock into your pussy. he soon took hold of your hips and nudged his cock up against the back of your cunt. right up against your cervix.

"shit." you groan.

the angle of his cock inside of you felt amazing. you clawed at the covers and arched your back. you panted into the pillows.

"you like that, don't you? you love that, my love?" he groaned, his tongue was loose in his mouth, "Ik denk de hele tijd aan je op de baan. Ik had een droom toen je rok omhoog vloog toen ik voorbijreed." he chuckled.

you whined, "c'mon max."

he took you by the hair and yanked your head a little back as he closed the gap between you two, "i said. i had a dream that i drove by during the race and your skirt flew up. and they all got a good look at those sweet panties you wore." he chuckled a little more as he kissed your face. he could feel the heat in your cheeks.

his thrusts were fast and aggressive, the pleasure bloomed in his chest as he moved. he watched you grip at the covers with your back arched.

"shit."

"fuck."

"i know, my love." he said between pants.

your brain felt like mush from back to back pleasure. you panted wildly into the pillows. your back arched further as max pressed further into you. he bent you into angles that were uncomfortable butt he pleasure that raced through you cancelled out the feeling.

"please, max."

"ik heb je." he said with a reassuring voice the more he fucked you. your ass jiggled from the force of his thrusts. he felt the sweat drip down his neck and down his bare back as he fucked into your.

"i love you." you murmured into the covers.

"i love you too." he said with such softness in his voice as if he wasn't balls deep inside of you. he loved you so much, he loved how you felt against him. you felt like a dream.

"please, max." you moaned as you tried to cover your mouth with your hand so you wouldn't disturb the neighbours next door.

"i want to hear you, my love." he said softly, his voice still in your ear, "i want to hear it all."

"but next door." you said.

"doesn't matter. i won the race. i can fuck my girl whoever i want." he purred as his pace became erratic, your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head as you moaned into the pillows. he said, "I want them all to hear you."

oh max, ever the romantic.

you whimpered into the pillows as you felt the pleasure come to a head of the second orgasm of the morning. you didn't have an awful lot of time left before he had to get ready. but by the stagger of his thrusts, you knew he was close as well.

"that's my girl." he said.

"please, max."

"mijn liefje." he said with a bit of tension in his voice as the warmth of sex clogged his head.

the angle made it feel like he was in your stomach which caused you to choke out moans.

the bed hit against the wall as he moved against you. with a few more hard thrusts, you both came at the same time. his groan was low and heavy while your moan was high pitched and had to be covered up by the pillow.

he loved when he finished inside of you, it made his heartbeat quicken. that he marked you inside and out. he slowed down and rested back on his heels as he cock slipped out of your used hole.

he pushed hair out of his face and panted heavily. you felt like heaven. you soon laid next to one another, he pulled you into his sweaty arms.

"mijn liefste, ik hou zoveel van je. jij geeft mij het gevoel dat ik een winnaar ben." he kissed the top of your head as you laid there together.

you got comfortable in his arms and smiled against him. the rush of climax was still in your head as you clung to him.

you said to him, in the bit of dutch you knew, "Ik hou ook van jou, max."

he chuckled and kissed you once more. <3