#it’s time for Lisa to go to bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeneveuxrein · 2 months

Text

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.”

-- -- --

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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tangyangie · 9 months

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𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

desc. how genshin characters sleep next to you!

notes. i love these ppl sm sobs

they're so quiet. the only thing you can hear is their soft breath, maintaining a constant rhythm. they generally prefer to bury their head in your shoulder, but they're content just laying next to you. they're so easy to sleep next to. they probably completely shut off while they're asleep?? you will not feel a single thing. no water necessary. no bathroom breaks. they save feeling sick until the morning. in addition, a kiss on the forehead is the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first when you wake up in the morning. all in all, they're super sweet—maybe, in a way, pretty old-fashioned. i give a 100/10.

lynette, tighnari, shenhe, XIAO, aether, ALBEDO, jean, EI, baizhu, KOKOMI, diluc, layla, ayato, ganyu

SO touchy. literally can't go more than ten seconds not being next to you. probably have a quiet, whispered conversation with you before bed—about anything at all. it's mostly to distract from the fact that they're feeling you up, but they still listen to every word you say. they mumble replies with a teasing voice as their fingers dance up your back, resting at your shoulder. nuzzling their head in your neck while lightly kissing you there. (maybe biting if they're into that...) if you want to get up to get water, they probably make you stay where you are so you stay comfy. they'll do everything for you. you want a massage at 3 in the morning? go ahead, ask. they won't refuse.

KAZUHA, zhongli, cyno, yae miko, BEIDOU, xinyan, lumine, LISA, keqing, candace, THOMA, kaeya

LOUD. that's all you really need to know—but you can barely sleep. it's like they don't need it. they'll stay up for hours on their phones, talking about the videos they're watching, what they did—anything at all that they can think of. you'd believe they'll eventually get tired and toss in the towel, but they could pull 10 all-nighters in a row if it meant you'd listen the whole time. other than that, they're usually pretty cuddly. They'll grab onto your arms and scrunch into a ball position, their knees nearly at their chest. They'll probably talk to you like that until they realized you've dozed off. Once they do, they kiss you on the nose and cuddle against you, letting out an unbelievably loud sigh. almost comically so. (it might wake you up and you'd have to fall asleep all over again...)

CHILDE, yoimiya, ITTO, heizou, yanfei, VENTI, hu tao, gorou, kirara

sarcastic and mean. can you even get more mean than these guys?? they (lovingly) insult and tease you before dragging you into the bed, tightly holding you against them. they'll most likely hold the back of your head by tangling their fingers in your hair, keeping you steady against their chest. to hear their breathing. they might give you a kiss on the forehead if you get lucky. if you decide to tease them by refusing this kiss, they'll probably spread their limbs across the bed to make sure you've got no room, and that you'll have to climb on top of them to be able to lay down comfortably. that's better than a kiss, in their opinion. you're wide open for sarcasm, teasing, and letting them be the meanies they are.

yelan, kaveh, SCARA, kuki shinobu, FARUZAN, dehya, KUJOU SARA, alhaitham, mona, ningguang

notes. i hate school so much actually 🤗🤗 anyways GUTS WORLD TOUR IM SO EXCITED

mwah mwah i heart you guys 💋

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 29 days

Note

Genshin Gorls waking up the night after with S/O!

(Obvious NSFT Implications)

(Genshin Impact) The morning after with Amber, Ayaka, Arlecchino, Beidou, Candace, Chiori, Furina, Kokomi, Lisa, Lumine, Navia, Rosaria, Shenhe, Xianyun and Yae

Very mild NSF-W Implications

Not too big of a NSF-W warning this time around, gonna be 99% fluff for this one because SWEET LIBERTY do we need more fluff for the girls on this site! Also, I don't normally include THIS many gals in a single ask but this shall be a very rare exception!

Amber yawns loudly as she stretches out her arm, accidentally squishing her hand against S/O's face.

(Amber) "O-Oh! Sorry!"

She can't help but laugh at their expression, before giving a playful kiss on their nose.

(Amber) "At least you're up now!"

(S/O) "Amber...It's six in the morning..."

If anything, it looked like Amber was eager to get out of bed.

Even after last night, she was still bustling with energy.

The sun had yet to rise, but Amber still adored S/O in this lighting, giving them one last kiss on the lips before getting up and dressed.

(Amber) "See you at breakfast, S/O!"

She puts a Baron Bunny in their arms and a blanket over S/O, finally departing.

When S/O's eyes flutter open, the first thing they see besides the light coming into the room is Ayaka gently smiling at them, with a similarly tired expression.

Her hand gently cups S/O's face, making them relax into her hold.

(Ayaka) "Good morning, my love."

(S/O) "Sleep well?"

Ayaka giggles and moves closer, her forehead resting on theirs as her eyes close.

(Ayaka) "Very."

Her cheeks begin to flush when their bare skin touch, but it doesn't stop the love she feels growing in her chest.

(Ayaka) "...If only I could stay like this forever with you. But, would one more hour suffice for now?"

(S/O) "For now..."

Ayaka smiles before feeling S/O's arms wrap around her, not saying anything else and simply enjoying the mutual silence.

S/O is woken up by Arlecchino already moving out of bed and dressed. Her eyes glance over to them and finishes putting her gloves on.

(Arlecchino) "Good morning."

(S/O) "Already going?"

Arlecchino hums in reply, one hand going over S/O's and giving it a gentle squeeze before finally rising from the bed.

(Arlecchino) "There is always much to be done. The same applies for you."

S/O couldn't argue with that point, as much as they would like to lay in bed with her for the next few hours doing nothing.

Many people assumed Arlecchino was stone-hearted, especially since she didn't look that affectionate during mornings like these.

But S/O knew better. With just the grip of her hand, and the way she turned back a final time to look at S/O before departing:

Arlecchino cared.

Beidou feels a heavy weight on her chest when she opens her eyes, seeing S/O's head gently resting near her shoulders.

With a smile, she ruffles their hair just gently enough to wake them up.

(Beidou) "Mornin' sleepyhead. I see you made yourself comfortable."

(S/O) "Heh, who wouldn't be? Better than any pillow I've ever used."

Beidou gently pushes S/O off so she can sit up, the blanket resting on her lap as it fell off their shoulders.

She didn't mind the cold air on her skin, since the only thing she was focusing on was S/O.

(Beidou) "Come on, let's go grab something to eat."

(S/O) "Can't admire you like this for a little longer?"

(Beidou) "Psh, there's always tonight."

She gives them a light kiss before finally getting up to get dressed with S/O following behind.

Candace's arms still have S/O locked in a tight embrace, just as she had them last night.

Feeling her hands gently raise up and down made Candace feel at ease.

Though it was still quite early, she did have to begin her usual rounds soon.

Very slowly and carefully, Candace gently lets go of S/O, giving them a kiss on their forehead before putting her gear on.

(Candace) I will see you later today, S/O.

Candace makes sure not to wake them up as she says goodbye in her head.

With a final smile, she covers them with a blanket and leaves.

Chiori's eyes reluctantly open, with a yawn and foreign warmth enveloping her.

She's about ready to shove it off before realizing what it was.

...Oh, right. S/O.

(S/O) "Mmnn...Mornin', Chiori."

(Chiori) "Morning. Do you plan on moving your hands anytime soon?"

Laughing at her response, S/O just gently squeezes her.

(S/O) "I dunno. Plan to move out of it?"

Directly after that, she rolls her eyes and moves closer.

(Chiori) "Maybe in a little bit. If you get coffee for me when I open up."

(S/O) "Deal."

Furina is slightly drooling with her arms and hair sprawled out wildly, her hand on S/O's face.

S/O moves her hand off, slightly irritated at being woken up by being slapped.

Meanwhile, Furina is quietly snoring, all the while hogging the blanket.

Annoyed as S/O was, they couldn't deny that Furina was a little cute.

...Even in such a unflattering state.

(S/O) "You're lucky you're so cute..."

(Furina) "...mneh..." snore

(S/O) "...Most of the time."

Kokomi stifles a yawn as she stretches in bed, feeling S/O's arms around her.

She giggles as tries her best to move without waking them up, getting to stare at their sleeping expression.

Just being this close enough to them was enough to power Kokomi for the entire day.

Especially since they'd be back by her side like this during the morning and nights.

(Kokomi) "S/O~!"

She gently taps their nose with a single finger, and sees their eyes slowly open.

Their eyes staring at her with such love made her heart race.

(S/O) "What a beautiful sight in the morning..."

(Kokomi) "Hm, I could say the same thing...!"

She knows that she has to get up eventually, but she would spend every second she can with them.

Lisa does not want to move at all.

She holds onto S/O tighter before attempting to go back to sleep, but she felt them stir awake.

(S/O) "Lisa...?"

(Lisa) "Ssshhh...Too early still."

One eye glanced over to the wall.

Ten-o-clock? WAY too early for her.

With one hand, Lisa idly traces their shoulder before hugging them.

(Lisa) "We'll get up in an hour. We don't have to be anywhere today..."

(S/O) "Hah, will you be awake when an hour passes?"

(Lisa) yawn "I guess we'll see..."

Lumine breathes a sigh of relief, seeing S/O still by her side.

She didn't have any nightmares, at least not when she knew they were sleeping next to her.

One of her hand gently brushes the hair out of their eyes, seeing their face move from her touch.

(Lumine) "Oh, sorry! Didn't mean to wake you."

(S/O) "Hm...It's okay..."

Both of their hands reach for hers, gently holding them.

(S/O) "I always wanna wake up from you, anyway."

She can't contain the embarassed laugh that escapes her lips, embracing them with her strength.

(Lumine) "...Same here."

Lumine sits up in the bed, not really caring that either of them were wearing anything.

(Lumine) "I can cook us up something, what do you want?"

Navia's hair is tickling S/O's nose, making their face slightly shake it off as they see her beautiful smile in the sunlight.

Even when she looked a bit unkempt in the morning, Navia still looked absolutely gorgeous.

Doubly so when she wakes up with that infectious smile of hers.

She lays on her stomach as she gives S/O a wink.

(Navia) "Heya, S/O.~"

(S/O) "Morning, Navia..."

She immediately begins to pepper their face with kisses, making the both of them giggle.

(Navia) "Now, what shall we do for breakfast? Should we get it in bed?"

(S/O) "Hah, if I don't get up, then I'll want to be with you here forever."

(Navia) "And that's a bad thing how, exactly?"

She asks them with a toothy grin.

Rosaria knows its about the afternoon when she finally wakes up, but notices the bed isn't empty.

(S/O) "Finally awake?"

(Rosaria) "Ugh, unfortunately."

She freezes up when S/O's hands ruffles her hair, but she doesn't move to shove it off.

Instead, she sits there and sees that S/O was reading a book in bed.

Notably, they have yet to put on a shirt.

(Rosaria) "Were you waiting for me to wake up this entire time?"

(S/O) "Yeah, but don't worry, I don't mind!"

Rosaria hums a little before she sits up with them, a small smile growing.

(Rosaria) "You didn't have to but...it's nice to wake up with you."

Shenhe has already been awake for quite some time, but she did not want to wake up S/O.

Instead, she waits for them to do so before greeting them in her usual cool voice.

(Shenhe) "Good morning."

(S/O) "Hey, Shnehe-"

As they try to move, they notice that her arm's iron grip has not budged a single inch.

S/O shivered from Shenhe's cooler temperature due to her Cryo vision, but that didn't stop them from quickly heating up.

(S/O) "How long were you waiting?"

(Shenhe) "An hour or so, but it doesn't matter. I just wanted to be here when you woke up."

She feels their arms wrap around her waist, making her embrace them tighter.

It was almost to the point S/O's back was beginning to get sore, but that was a small price to pay.

Xianyun finally feels S/O stir awake, her meditation finally coming to an end.

(Xianyun) "Ah, finally awake. One has noted that mortals tend to sleep in quite an extraordinary amount."

(S/O) "Well, when you did as much as we did last night...!"

Xianyun reaches for her glasses before turning to S/O with a smile.

(Xianyun) "One should develop something to help with your energy...Perhaps a cuisine of some kind?"

S/O couldn't help but feel curious.

(S/O) "What would even help with that?"

(Xianyun) "Dress yourself and come along now, we shall find the answer together."

Yae's usual smug expression is more subdued this early in the morning, especially next to someone she loved.

Much to the surprise of S/O.

(Yae) "My, you can sleep for quite a while. Were you truly that tired?"

S/O yawned before turning to see Yae at them staring with a mischievous smile.

(S/O) "I wonder why..."

Their tone sounded a bit dry, making Yae laugh.

(Yae) "I suppose you'll just have to get better stamina."

Her finger traced down their waist before quickly bopping them on the nose, her ears slightly going up as she did so.

(Yae) "Do you plan on getting up, or keep staring at my beautiful face all day? Not that I would mind being lavished with praise."

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saecoyle · 3 months

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#lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein edit #sure grandsaecoyle it's time to go to bed #lisa swallows #the creature #lisa x the creature #taffy swallows #laffy taffy #(mine)#escarg4l’s edits

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highvern · 2 months

Text

Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives.

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?”

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.”

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary.

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :)

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s.

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.”

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically.

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?”

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time.

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.”

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?”

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.”

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again.

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect.

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company.

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.”

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them.

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter.

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television.

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body.

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation.

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again.

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel.

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between..

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm.

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure.

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in.

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it.

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge.

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again.

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover.

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered.

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough.

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence.

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine.

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut.

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing.

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight.

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing.

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day.

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door.

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live.

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat.

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior drowsiness transforms into irritation.

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy.

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man.

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.”

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.”

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra.

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head.

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came.

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair.

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago.

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway.

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet.

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently.

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.”

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes.

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch.

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up.

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you.

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.”

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath.

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones.

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back.

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt.

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions.

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want.

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place.

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action.

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start.

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate.

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls.

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?”

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples.

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue.

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own.

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half.

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper.

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance.

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught.

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again.

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you.

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips.

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?”

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing.

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.”

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy.

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole.

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant.

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care.

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes - Part 2

All of these were taken from Pinterest - again, I am not this funny

Special thank you to @sinfully-yoursss for asking for another one!

Max: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch? Y/n: Sometimes I whine like a BIG bitch

Arthur (propping his feet up on a table): So, I heard you like bad boys Y/n: What? No??? Arthur (immediately taking his feet off the table): Oh thank God, that felt terrible

Christian: Where’s Y/n and the child? Toto: Y/n is teaching him how to drive Christian: Y/n never learned to drive??????

*Meanwhile*

Y/n: So there’s two pedals. Sometimes three but you can ignore the left one Kimi: I don’t think…. Y/n: the lines on the road are more like suggestions than anything, like the speed limit Kimi: Are you positive that… Y/n: I’m not sure how to turn on the blinkers. Ready? Kimi: Uhhhhh Y/n (shouting): GO GO GO GO Kimi (screaming) *floors it*

Nurse: I’m sorry sir, we can only allow family to see Miss L/n at this time Christian: bold of you to assume I won’t legally adopt her right now Y/n (sleepy, inside the hospital wing): you tell ‘em dad!

Max: Your honor, my client is ready Judge: And what does the defendant plead? Max (mouthing the words): not guilty Y/n (squinting at Max): hot milky Max (facepalms): take her away

Y/n: Deck the halls with crippling depression Charles: Fa la la la la, la la la la Y/n: ‘Tis the season for emotional suppression Arthur: Fa la la la la, la la la la Max (passing through): what???

Y/n (on the phone): Hey Lance, can Arthur and I borrow $5000? Lance: Why the hell do you need $5000?! Y/n: For an escape room. Lance: What kind of escape room costs 5 grand?? Y/n: Y/n: Jail.

Max (answers phone): hello? Y/n: It’s Y/n Max: What did she do this time Y/n: no, it’s me, Max Max: what did you do this time

Y/n (on the floor): Go on…without me! Lando (crying while kneeling beside her): No! We can get through this together, just like we always do! Y/n: There’s no time! You must defend our honor. Don’t let my death be for nothing! Lando (sobbing): I can’t do this without you! Y/n: Goodbye, old friend….(goes limp) Oscar (whispering to Max): They do realize this is just a dodgeball game, right? Max (aiming at Lando): Oscar, this is war. Show no mercy.

Oscar: One day, someone will think about you for the last time in eternity. You will be forgotten by the world Y/n: not if I eat the Mona Lisa

Yuki: I’m small but knowing Y/n: You don’t be knowing what the top shelf looks like Yuki: Y/n: Yuki: Bitch

Y/n: Go big or go home! Vito (tears in his eyes): I am begging you, Y/n. For once in your life, go home. Just this once. Go. Home. Y/n: I’m gonna go big

Y/n: I will do a lot of thing. But admitting I’m cold to Max after he told me to bring a jacket isn’t one of them

Max: I sleep with a knife beside my bed Carlos: I have a machete under my bed Logan: I have a gun under my pillow Arthur: Weak. Pathetic. All of you Max: And what deadly weapon do you sleep with? Arthur (putting on shades): Y/n

Arthur: I will speak French between your legs Y/n: That is the hottest thing I’ve ever been told Lando: I’m just imagining someone screaming “Bonjour” to a dick Daniel: SACRE BLEAU MADEMOISELLE HON HON HON TITTY CROISSANTS Logan (wheezing): TITTY CROISANTS Max: None of you should ever be having sex

Y/n: Hey do you know anyone who can teach me how to play the trumpet? Alex: Why? Y/n: I wanna wander around the paddock and annoy Esteban Logan: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play it for that Y/n: You have opened my eyes Logan

Max (not looking up from his book): what did he do now? Y/n: HE SMILED Max: At you? Y/n: No, at Oscar and Ollie but HE LOOKS LIKE AN ANGEL Max: go away Y/n: shut up, I watched you pine over Charles for months – let me have this Max: carry on

Arthur: I came up with a brilliant idea for a prank Y/n: Ooh, what is it? Arthur: We should kiss. Y/n: …I don’t get it Arthur: Think about it! Imagine Max and Charles come into the garage, only to find us making out, hands all over each other. You can sit in my lap and we’ll really just go to town. Max will be like “WHAAAAAAA” and Charles might even faint! Y/n: Oh, that’s hilarious! We totally should

Esteban: The math problem isn’t so hard, it’s just a simple repetition of- Y/n (frustrated): You’re a simple repetition Esteban: Y/n: Charles: Did Y/n really just hurt Esteban’s feelings Max: I’m so freakin proud

Y/n (googling): snake bite leg what to do Google: elevate and apply pressure Y/n (lifting the snake really high): apologize or else

Y/n: with all due respect Y/n: Y/n: which is none

Toto: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Kimi: Maybe a little tipsy? George: Drunk. Y/n: Wasted. Lewis: Dead.

Esteban: Could you at least try to be nice? Y/n: You’re still breathing. That’s me being nice.

Oscar: Hey do you have a bag I can borrow? Zhou: The only bags I have are the ones under my eyes, and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence Oscar: Literally all you had to do was say no

Max (at Y/n’s funeral): Can I have a moment alone with her? Arthur: Of course *leaves* Max (leaning over the coffin): Now listen, I know you’re not dead Y/n: no duh

Y/n: Ow! Oscar: You dislocated your shoulder. Want me to pop it back in? Y/n (grimacing): Yeah…okay Oscar: All right, on 3….0, 1 *pops shoulder back in* Y/n: MOTHERFU- WHO THE HELL STARTS AT 0

Yuki: Hey Y/n, did you eat all the powdered donuts? Y/n: …No? Yuki: Then what’s that white powder on your pants Y/n (panicking): cocaine

Y/n: Max, I think you should play the role of my father Max: I don’t want to be your father Y/n: That’s perfect. You already know your lines

Lando: Can I be frank with you guys? Y/n: I don’t know how changing your name is going to help us here, but sure? Charles: Wait, can I still be Charles? Oscar: Shh, let Frank speak.

Lewis: I have a bad feeling about this. Y/n: What do you mean? Lewis: Don’t you ever have that little voice in your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble? Y/n: no Lewis: That explains so much

Y/n: What do you call a fish with no eye (i)? Oscar (not looking up from his book): myxine circifrons Y/n: Y/n: fsh

George: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Y/n: Figuratively or literally? George: Y/n, honestly, the fact that I have to specify

Mitch: I know you took the last Red Bull Y/n Y/n (internally): play dumb Y/n: Who’s Y/n? Y/n (internally): not that dumb!

Y/n: Big mood Fernando: What does that mean…big mood? Y/n: Uh well, it kind of means like, me too, I guess Fernando: Thanks

*1 week later before a race in the rain*

Oscar: I’m kind of worried about this race guys Fernando: Big mood, Piastri, big mood Oscar: Y/n what did you do?

Charles: What’s worse than a DNF at a home race? Y/n: realizing that dragons can’t blow out their birthday candles Charles: Charles: mate

Y/n: You know what? Underneath it all, you’re actually quite nice Max: Repeat that disgusting slander and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers

Carlos: Now that I have explained the answer to this problem to you for ten minutes, do you understand? Y/n: Yes. Carlos:…Are you lying to me? Y/n: Yes.

Christian: Y/n, it’s your turn to give the pre-race talk Y/n (claps hands): Fuck shit up, hit some barriers, run Charles off the road, don’t die Max (proudly): succinct and informative

Max: The FIA really seems to hate us Charles: Maybe they’re homophobic Max: We’re not a couple Charles Charles: We’re not Y/n: You’re not?

Vito: Why is Y/n in the bathroom on the floor crying? Max: She’s drunk Vito: And? Mitch: She heard that Arthur has a girlfriend Vito:…but she is Arthur’s girlfriend Max: Yeah, we know that

Max (wears lighter skinny jeans and a brighter blue Red Bull polo) Y/n: I see you’re busting out the spring colors

Oscar: How do you two normally get out of these types of messes? Lando: We don’t. Y/n: We just make a bigger mess that cancels out the first one

*Valentines Day*

Arthur (reading Y/n’s texts): Y/n just said she’s going to give me 102 minutes of pleasure tonight Max: Oh wow

*Later watching Cars 2*

Y/n: You look disappointed

Y/n: Chillax! Oscar: that’s not a word Y/n: Sometimes the ones who deny “chillax” are the ones who need to chillax the most

Y/n: You know, water is pretty crazy. It can boil you to death, freeze you to death, drown you, or spin your car out of control, throw you into the barriers and kill you. But you still need it to survive Max: Y/n, I love you, but its 3 AM

Christian: Y/n, a word. Y/n: BALLOON

Max: I have the sharpest memory! Name one time I forgot something Y/n: You left Charles in a Walmart like three weeks ago Max: I did that on purpose, try again

Vito: Y/n isn’t answering her phone Arthur: I’ll call Vito: Max and I have both tried, along with everyone else on the grid. What make you think she’ll answer? *Calls her anyway* Y/n: Hello?

Y/n: Oi, where’s your boyfriend? Max: Who? Y/n: Charles, where is he? Max: He’s not my boyfriend Y/n: Have you told him that?

Fan: Max, what motivates you? Max: My ambition and desire to push forward no matter what Fan: Y/n, what about you? Y/n: An unhealthy mix of spite, pettiness, the thirst for vengeance, and pure, relentless rage. That and a Red Bull in the morning

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sanguineterrain · 11 months

Text

redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise

"Would you ever get married?"

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it.

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety!

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same.

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married."

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin.

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago."

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve."

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten.

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask.

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious.

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer."

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me."

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?"

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up.

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth.

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look.

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why.

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says.

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with.

"Let's make a pact," you say softly.

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage."

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks.

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say.

"I can't wait till I'm thirty."

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?"

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat.

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do.

"Do you mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart.

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night."

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve.

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you.

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb.

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away.

ii. the wound

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow.

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though.

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep.

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far.

She looks away, and your not-smile falls.

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly.

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die.

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that.

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears.

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—"

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her.

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand.

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long."

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening.

So he did. And now you're here.

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better.

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead.

"Come sit," you say.

"I need to see him," he tells you.

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita.

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait.

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all.

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels.

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway.

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly.

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does."

She holds out her hand.

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there."

God, are you really that obvious?

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter.

Steve’s eyes lock with yours.

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats.

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you?

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side.

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you.

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour.

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared."

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him.

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't."

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his.

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks.

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.”

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve.

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair.

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly.

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks.

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers.

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say.

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve.

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says.

You scoff. "More like the other way around."

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van.

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks.

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters.

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops.

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat.

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve.

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded.

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests.

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years.

But this? This is way, way beyond that.

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair.

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always.

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording.

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve.

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest.

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly.

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time.

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke.

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick.

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks.

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection.

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already."

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again.

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation.

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs.

God, you’re never living this down.

“Y’okay?”

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip.

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin.

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight.

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation.

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question.

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you."

He relaxes.

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh."

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not.

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there.

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks.

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face.

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed.

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent.

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though.

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight.

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married.

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars.

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness.

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light.

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you.

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you?

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper.

Steve squeezes your hand harder.

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles.

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?"

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again.

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says.

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says.

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive.

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him.

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair.

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for.

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away.

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you.

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly.

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man."

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart.

You smile. Steve shakes his head.

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart.

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven."

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?"

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle.

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you.

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again.

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established.

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him.

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot.

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity.

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back.

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat.

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty.

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses.

Now you know: tenderly.

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise.

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you.

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say.

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times.

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

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