Girls' Night Out at the Bar

The autumn rain beat a relentless, hypnotic rhythm against the tall, fogged-up windows of the dimly lit corner bar, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy against the chill of the October night. Outside, the world was a blur of slick asphalt and the slow, swirling descent of yellow-brown leaves, stripped from the trembling branches of the trees by a damp, whispering wind. They plastered themselves against the wet glass like golden stars, a picturesque, melancholic backdrop to the vibrant, pulsing life contained within the four walls of the establishment. Inside, the atmosphere was an entirely different universe—a sensory sanctuary thick with the rich, tempting scents of roasted nuts, spilled alcohol, sweet citrus syrups, and the faint, nostalgic aroma of chalk dust. Low, comforting retro jazz melted seamlessly into the background, vibrating beneath the hum of lively chatter and the clinking of heavy glasses.

In the center of the room, illuminated by a low-hanging vintage billiard lamp that cast a pool of warm, amber light over the pristine green felt, four inseparable friends were turning a dreary, rain-soaked evening into an absolute celebration.

Lisa, Jisoo, Jennie, and Rosé had already emptied their fair share of small green soju bottles. The clear, potent liquid had fired up their cheeks, flushed their skin with a delicate warmth, and loosened their tongues to a delightful degree. The distinct, crisp clack of billiard balls colliding echoed through the cozy room, followed immediately by a bright, unfiltered chorus of laughter that cut through the low jazz.

Rosé Park leaned over the edge of the pool table, an absolute vision in the soft, golden light. She wore a stylish, cropped knit vest patterned with a sharp black-and-pink argyle design, which perfectly hugged her torso and left a tantalizing sliver of her smooth, pale stomach exposed. The vest was paired with loose-fitting, high-waisted light beige pants that cinched perfectly at her narrow waist, emphasizing her slender, incredibly petite figure. Her striking blonde hair was pulled back into a loose, effortless style, though a few rebellious, silken strands had escaped to perfectly frame her face, drawing the eye directly to the deep, sparkling mischief in her dark eyes.

She chalked the tip of her cue with a slow, deliberate twist of her wrist, her gaze locked onto the table with an intense, predatory focus.

"Watch and learn, ladies," Rosé announced, her voice carrying a playful, arrogant lilt as she bent low over the green felt. The fabric of her beige pants stretched tautly across the gentle curve of her hips. She drew the cue back with practiced ease and let it fly.

Clack. The striped five-ball rolled smoothly across the table and vanished cleanly into the corner pocket.

"Unbelievable," Lisa laughed, leaning heavily on her own cue like a walking stick, shaking her head in sheer amusement. "That's four games in a row, Rosie. You're an absolute monster tonight. What is in your drink?"

"Just pure, unadulterated talent," Rosé gloated, straightening up with a triumphant, breathless little laugh. She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, her dark eyes flashing under the amber lights as she reached for her shot glass. She downed the remaining soju in one graceful gulp, relishing the sweet, fiery burn as it slid down her throat, amplifying the delicious, buzzing confidence that had been building in her veins all evening.

Jennie leaned lazily against the dark mahogany edge of the bar counter, twirling a half-empty glass between her manicured fingers. A slinky, knowing smile played on her glossy lips as her eyes raked over Rosé’s flushed, victorious form. "Oh, please. It has absolutely nothing to do with talent, Lisa. Don't humor her."

Jisoo perked up, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. "Then what is it? Because she's never this ruthless."

"It's the classic, undeniable symptom of a severe, prolonged dry spell," Jennie purred, her voice dripping with teasing wickedness. She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes locked onto Rosé. "Think about it. When was the last time our sweet, petite Rosie actually had a proper release? It’s been ages. All that tight, unspent sexual tension is just bubbling up inside her, completely unfulfilled, and she's channeling it right into that wooden stick. Honestly, girls, I feel terrible for her. She hasn't had a real, thick dick inside her in way too long."

"Jennie!" Rosé hissed, her jaw dropping as a furious, brilliant blush rushed up her neck to paint her cheeks crimson. A helpless, breathless laugh escaped her lips, completely betraying her shock.

"No, I’m totally serious!" Jennie went entirely all in, pushing off the counter and stepping closer to the group, her hands gesturing emphatically as the alcohol obliterated whatever filter she usually possessed. "It’s an absolute tragedy. It’s time for you to get properly, thoroughly fucked again, Rosie. And I don't mean some gentle, boring missionary vanilla nonsense."

Lisa and Jisoo’s eyes went completely wide, their mouths hanging open in a mix of sheer horror and hysterical amusement as they leaned in closer, captivated by the absolute filth spilling from their friend's mouth.

"You need a man who is going to absolutely ruin you," Jennie continued, her voice dropping into a scandalous, theatrical whisper that somehow carried perfectly over the jazz music. "Someone who will take you and pin you down. A guy who will drive his cock so deep into you mouth that it makes your eyes water and completely ruins all your beautiful makeup. You need a man who will wrap his big hand around your throat and choke you just a little bit—exactly the way you secretly like it—making you gasp and beg while he stretches you out."

An absolute, stunned silence fell over the immediate area around their pool table. Rosé gripped her cue so tightly her knuckles turned white, her dark eyes wide, completely paralyzed by the shockingly graphic imagery. Deep in her belly, despite her embarrassment, a sudden, heavy throb of genuine arousal flared to life, warming her core.

Jennie wasn't even close to finished. She stepped right up to Rosé, nudging her shoulder with a devilish grin. "He needs to flip you over, grab those cute little ass cheeks, and spank them until they’re bright red. He needs to overstimulate every single inch of your sweet, tight Korean pussy with his big cock until you're nothing but a trembling mess. And in the very end, when you're completely out of your mind, he needs to fuck you in the ass so incredibly hard that you won't be able to walk straight for days."

For a fraction of a second, nobody breathed. Then, as if a dam had broken, Lisa, Jisoo, and Rosé erupted into a fit of breathless, hysterical laughter. Rosé hid her burning face behind her hands, her shoulders shaking violently as tears of mirth pricked the corners of her eyes.

"Oh my god, Jennie! You are completely deranged!" Lisa shrieked, clutching her stomach as she bent double over the pool table.

"I cannot believe you just said all of that out loud!" Jisoo gasped, wiping a tear from her cheek.

Jennie just shrugged, looking entirely unrepentant as she smiled. "I'm just speaking the gospel truth! Oh, just take a handsome guy tonight and let him give it to you! Your body is literally screaming for it."

Lowering her hands, Rosé took a deep, shuddering breath, her dark eyes glittering with a mixture of alcohol-induced bravery and the lingering, heated aftermath of Jennie's filthy monologue. The raw, vivid pictures painted in her mind sent an unexpected, heavy pulse of wet warmth directly between her thighs. Her inner tension had, indeed, just skyrocketed.

"Fine," Rosé whispered playfully, her confidence soaring to a dangerous, dizzying high. "If the perfect candidate walks through that door, I just might let him ruin my makeup."

As if the universe itself was eavesdropping on their scandalous conversation, the heavy wooden door of the bar swung open with a soft chime. A gust of cool, rain-scented wind swept into the room, carrying with it a trio of men who looked to be in their late twenties to early thirties. They shook the autumn rain from their jackets, laughing loudly with deep, resonant voices as they headed straight for the vacant pool table directly adjacent to the girls.

Rosé turned her head lazily, intending to just glance at the newcomers. But the moment her dark eyes landed on the group, the breath completely vanished from her lungs.

Her gaze locked onto the man in the center. He was, quite frankly, devastating.

He was exceptionally tall—a towering, solid presence that immediately commanded the space around him. He wore a simple, loose-fitting charcoal shirt that clung to the broad, muscular expanse of his shoulders and the thick contour of his chest every time he moved. Light blue jeans hugged his strong, athletic thighs, and his dark, slightly damp hair fell perfectly over a jawline that looked as though it had been carved from granite. He was effortlessly, ruggedly handsome, possessing a relaxed, raw masculinity that sent a shiver straight down Rosé's spine.

She leaned in close to Jisoo, her voice dropping to an urgent, breathless whisper. "Do you see the one in the middle? In the loose shirt? Holy shit."

Jisoo glanced over, her eyebrows shooting up as she took in the sight. "Wow. Okay, yes. He is incredibly hot. He looks like he could easily throw you over his shoulder."

"And he’s totally checking you out too," Jennie added slily, sliding up next to Rosé and giving her a firm, encouraging nudge on her shoulder. "Seriously, Rosie, look at him. He hasn't taken his eyes off this table since they sat down. He is practically undressing you right now."

Rosé risked another glance beneath her eyelashes. Jennie was right. The tall stranger was leaning against his pool table, a bottle of beer held loosely in one large, veiny hand. His dark, intense eyes were fixed directly on her, tracking the curve of her waist and the blonde strands framing her face. As their eyes locked, a slow, deeply confident smirk spread across his lips. The raw heat in his stare was so tangible it felt like a physical touch against her skin.

Lisa leaned over, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "This is fate, Rosie. You have to go over there. Challenge him to a game. Use your winning streak as an excuse. It’s the perfect icebreaker to get to know him."

Over-energized by the sweet burn of the soju, the thrill of her undefeated streak, and the heavy, intoxicating pull of the handsome stranger's gaze, Rosé felt a surge of reckless, electric bravery. She turned to Lisa, giving her a sharp, determined nod.

"You're right," Rosé said, her voice dropping an octave as a sultry smile touched her lips. "As soon as they finish their round, I’m going to challenge him. Let's see what the tall guy's made of."

The girls watched in eager anticipation as the men began their game. The tall man—whose sheer size made the pool cue look like a toothpick in his hands—played with a casual, fluid grace. Every time he bent over the table, the loose fabric of his shirt pulled taut against the heavy muscles of his back and biceps. Rosé bit her lower lip, her heart hammering a frantic, heavy rhythm against her ribs.

As soon as the men racked the balls for a new game, Rosé took a deep breath, smoothed down the front of her argyle knit vest, and began the short walk across the wooden floorboards. The click of her boots against the floor felt impossibly loud over the jazz music.

The three men stopped their conversation instantly as she approached, their attention turning entirely to the petite, blonde vision entering their space. The tall man straightened up to his full height, turning to face her fully.

Up close, the size difference between them was staggering. He was easily twenty to twenty-five centimeters taller than her. Rosé had to physically tilt her head back to meet his gaze, feeling incredibly small and fragile beneath his looming shadow. A wave of his scent washed over her—a deeply intoxicating, masculine blend of clean rain, dark cedarwood, and the faint, bitter tang of hops.

Rosé pushed past her sudden, breathless intimidation and flashed him a brilliant, dazzling smile. She extended her small, slender hand toward him.

"Hi there. I'm Rosé."

Y/N looked down at her, his dark eyes flickering with a flash of genuine surprise that a girl this stunning, this sweet-looking, was approaching him so boldly. The surprise quickly melted into a deeply amused, sensual grin. He reached out and wrapped his large, incredibly warm hand around hers.

"Y/N," he replied, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated right through the air and settled heavily in her chest.

The tactile sensation of his grip sent a shockwave of electricity up her arm. His palm was slightly rough, his fingers long and strong, completely engulfing her tiny hand. The contrast was delicious. She deliberately let her hand linger in his grip for a heartbeat longer than necessary before slowly sliding it away, letting her fingertips trail softly against his palm.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Rosé purred, shifting her weight so that her hip popped slightly, an action that highlighted the curve of her beige pants. "I couldn't help but notice you guys playing. I just wanted to introduce myself, and maybe issue a little warning."

Y/N crossed his thick arms over his chest, his biceps bulging against the sleeves of his shirt. He looked down at her with undisguised interest. "A warning? I'm intrigued."

"Well," Rosé began, letting a playful, arrogant tone lace her words. "I've been playing all night at the next table over, and I am currently undefeated. It's actually getting a little too easy. But you... Y/N, right? Yes, Y/N. You look like you might actually be a challenge."

Y/N let out a low, rough chuckle that did incredible things to Rosé’s lower belly. He stepped just a fraction closer, invading her personal bubble. The heat radiating off his muscular chest was palpable.

"Is that so?" Y/N murmured, his dark eyes scanning the delicate features of her face. "I'm good. Do you really think you can beat me, sweetheart?"

The casual, patronizing pet name ignited a spark of fiery irritation—and intense, undeniable arousal—deep within her. She narrowed her eyes, a playful, challenging pout forming on her glossy lips.

"What’s the matter, Y/N? Are you a chicken?" Rosé teased, her voice taking on a daring edge. "Or are you just scared of getting your ass handed to you by a girl half your size?"

His friends let out a chorus of low, mocking 'oooohs', clapping Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N’s eyes darkened instantly, a competitive, predatory heat flaring to life within his gaze. The playful smirk turned into something far more dangerous. He leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer to hers, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips.

"Careful, Rosé. You're playing a dangerous game. Let's make a bet," Y/N pushed forward, matching her energy.

Rosé pushed back, the soju fueling her absolute confidence. She looked up at him through her lashes. "If I win—which I am one hundred percent sure I will—you pay for our entire girls' night out. Every bottle of soju, every drink. The whole night is on you."

Y/N tilted his head, his eyes burning into hers. "And if I win?"

Rosé held his gaze, her breath hitching slightly as the tension between them thickened into something tangible and heavy. "If you win... you can have whatever you want. Any wish. And I have to grant it."

The absolute weight of her words hung heavily in the air. It was a wildly provocative offer, loaded with an unspoken, deeply sensual promise. Y/N stared down at her petite figure, taking in the way her blonde hair framed her neck, the way her chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths. A slow, devastatingly handsome grin spread across his face.

"Whatever I want, huh?" Y/N said, his voice dropping into a private, velvety caress meant only for her ears. "I can't stop you from making a bad bet. Okay, sweetie, let’s play."

The atmosphere in the bar seemed to shift, the energy completely centralizing around the two of them. The girls and boys quickly gathered around the pool table, merging their two groups into a lively, high-energy crowd. Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie immediately hit it off with Y/N’s friends, clinking glasses of beer and soju, laughing and exchanging banter.

But between Rosé and Y/N, the rest of the world faded away.

Y/N grabbed his pool cue from the rack. He pulled a small cube of blue chalk from his pocket and began to polish the tip of his cue. The movements were slow, methodical, and incredibly precise, his large hands working the chalk over the leather with a deliberate rhythm. His dark eyes never left Rosé’s face as he did it, the eye contact so intense and suggestive that Rosé felt a flush of heat wash over her entire body. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

"Your break, undefeated champion," Y/N offered, gesturing to the perfectly racked triangle of balls on the green felt.

Rosé took her position at the end of the table. She chalked her own cue, took a deep breath to steady the pleasant, dizzying buzz in her head, and bent over the table. She was acutely, overwhelmingly aware of Y/N standing just a few feet away, his gaze tracking the line of her spine, the dip of her waist, and the curve of her hips.

With a smooth, powerful stroke, Rosé drove the white cue ball forward.

CRACK!

The explosive sound of the break cut through the chatter of the bar. The balls clattered violently across the green felt, scattering in all directions. Two striped half-balls rolled with perfect, elegant momentum straight into the side and corner pockets.

"Yes! That's my girl!" Jennie cheered, raising her soju glass high in the air.

"She's unstoppable, man, I'm telling you!" Lisa warned Y/N's friends, who merely laughed and took a drink of their beers.

Rosé straightened up, flashing Y/N a triumphant, deeply sassy grin. "Stripes. Looks like you're playing solids, big guy."

The duel that followed was a fierce, mesmerizing dance of skill, alcohol, and explosive chemistry. They moved around the table in a slow, circling orbit, completely hyper-focused on the game and on each other.

Rosé played with a feline, elegant grace. She took her time, bending low over the table, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she executed long, incredibly difficult shots that sent her striped balls gliding smoothly into the pockets. Every time she leaned over, the cropped hem of her argyle vest rode up just a fraction of an inch, and she could physically feel the heat of Y/N's stare burning into her exposed skin.

But Y/N was a formidable opponent. When it was his turn, the entire dynamic shifted. He countered her elegance with sheer, unadulterated power and precision. He didn't bother with fancy angles; he took hard, direct strikes, his large hands gripping the cue tightly. The muscles in his forearms and biceps flexed visibly beneath his loose shirt with every shot, sending the solid balls into the pockets with a definitive, satisfying thud. He moved with the quiet, imposing confidence of an apex predator, completely unbothered by the loud cheering of the girls or the teasing remarks from his own friends.

As the minutes ticked by, the table cleared rapidly. The two groups kept getting together to drink, the clinking of glasses and the flow of soju keeping the mood incredibly high. But the air between Y/N and Rosé was growing thicker, heavier, saturated with an undeniable, intoxicating gravity. Every time they passed each other to switch turns, the proximity was electric. Once, as Rosé moved to take a shot, her shoulder brushed lightly against his broad chest. The sheer, solid heat of his body sent a jolt of lightning straight down to her toes. They locked eyes, a silent, breathless conversation passing between them, filled with promises of what was to come.

Finally, the tension mounted to a razor's edge as only a few balls remained on the felt. Y/N had just cleared his last solid ball with a brutal, cross-table shot, leaving only the decisive, black 8-ball sitting near the center of the table. However, the white cue ball had rolled just a fraction too far, leaving him without a clear shot. He stepped back, a bead of sweat glistening on his handsome brow.

"Your table, sweetheart," Y/N murmured, his voice low and dark.

Rosé had one final striped ball left before she could take a shot at the 8-ball. She walked around the table, her legs feeling pleasantly heavy, the sheer volume of soju she had consumed finally beginning to peak in her system. She lined up her shot and sank the striped ball with ease.

Now, only the black 8-ball remained.

She positioned herself for the decisive shot. It was a manageable angle. All she had to do was tap it gently into the corner pocket, and the victory—and her undefeated title—would be sealed.

She bent over the table, her blonde hair falling in a curtain beside her face. She closed one eye, lining up the cue.

But then, Y/N moved.

He stepped up right next to her, stopping just inches from her side. He leaned his hip against the table, crossing his thick arms over his chest. His massive presence completely invaded her peripheral vision. She could feel the intense, radiating heat of his body, smell the dark, intoxicating scent of his cedarwood cologne mixed with the masculine musk of his sweat. He was watching her lips, his gaze heavy and hungry.

The sheer, overwhelming pressure of his proximity, combined with the heavy influence of the soju, hit her all at once. Her breath caught in her throat. A sudden, intense tremble shook her slender hand.

She tried to steady herself, drawing the cue back. But her focus was shattered. As she pushed the cue forward, her grip slipped ever so slightly.

Clack.

The contact was weak and imperfect. The white cue ball struck the black 8-ball off-center. It rolled sluggishly across the green felt, drifting agonizingly close to the corner pocket, hovering right on the lip… and then stopping entirely. Just past the pocket.

A collective, massive groan of "Uhhhhhh!" erupted from the crowd.

Rosé gasped, standing up straight, her eyes wide with dismay as she stared at the stationary black ball. "No..." she whispered, a breathless, utterly frustrated laugh escaping her lips.

Y/N stepped forward, a slow, devastatingly victorious smile spreading across his face. The predator had caught his prey. "You let your nerves get the best of you, sweetheart."

With ice-cold, utterly ruthless precision, Y/N walked up to the table. He didn't even bother to chalk his cue. He leaned over, his broad shoulders framing the shot perfectly. With a swift, smooth, and effortless stroke, his cue struck the white ball. It tapped the 8-ball, sending it dropping into the pocket with a soft, perfect plop.

Victory.

His two buddies erupted into loud cheers, stepping forward to pat him heavily on the back. "That's what I'm talking about! Ice in his veins!"

Lisa, Jennie, and Jisoo sighed in dramatic unison, but their eyes were shining with absolute delight. They all turned to look at Rosé, fully aware of exactly what this loss meant.

Rosé stood frozen for a second, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. The sweet, heavy buzz of the alcohol was now completely mixed with a thick, intoxicating wave of surrender. She had lost. She looked across the table at Y/N, who had set his cue down and was now staring directly at her, his eyes dark, heavy, and full of raw intent.

She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her playful composure, though her pulse was racing a mile a minute. She walked slowly around the table until she was standing right in front of him, having to tilt her head all the way back to meet his gaze.

"Alright, alright. I accept my defeat," Rosé said, her voice carrying a slight, nervous tremor that she absolutely hated but couldn't control. She crossed her arms, trying to look defiant despite her petite size. "A deal is a deal. So... what does the big winner want, Y/N? A bottle of expensive vodka? Money? What else could you possibly want?"

The Winner’s Reward

Y/N didn't answer immediately. The noise of the bar, the cheering of their friends, the jazz music—it all seemed to completely fade away into background static.

He thought for a moment, his dark eyes slowly scanning the four girls, before locking entirely onto Rosé. He took in the stark twenty-five centimeter height difference between them. She was so incredibly pretty, so sweet, and so beautifully slender. The argyle vest clung to her chest, rising and falling with her rapid breaths. He found her insanely attractive, the physical pull between them completely undeniable.

His mind wandered to the bet. Whatever I want.

He wondered exactly what it would be like if he took her up on that offer in the most literal sense. He imagined her soft, petite body pinned beneath his heavy, muscular frame. He imagined the sound of her sweet, high-pitched voice breaking into desperate, breathless moans. It would be absolutely incredible if he could take her home, strip her out of those high-waisted pants, and deeply penetrate her tight, wet heat with his big "cue."

The thought sent a surge of hot, heavy blood straight to his groin.

Y/N took a slow step forward, completely erasing the space between them. He lowered his head, bending down until his lips were hovering just a fraction of an inch from her ear. He could smell the sweet vanilla of her perfume, feel the delicate heat radiating from her skin.

"I don't want vodka, Rosé," Y/N whispered, his deep, gravelly voice dropping to a private, incredibly dirty octave that sent an electric shock straight down her spine. "I want to take you home. I want to ruin your asian cunt, and I want to fuck you until you scream my name."

Rosé’s entire body went rigid. A sharp, audible gasp left her lips, her dark eyes flying wide open in pure, unadulterated shock. The sheer, explicit dominance of his words, mirroring Jennie's filthy joke with terrifying accuracy, completely short-circuited her brain. A heavy, throbbing ache pooled violently between her thighs, her sweet center instantly growing slick and wet with intense desire.

She stared up at him, her lips parted in disbelief. But as she looked into his dark, burning eyes, the shock rapidly melted away, replaced by a wicked, completely captivated grin. The tension inside her snapped. The dry spell was officially over.

"Is that your wish?" Rosé whispered back, her voice breathless and heavy with need.

"It's a demand," Y/N murmured.

Before she could say another word, Y/N reached out. His large, heavy hand slid behind her neck, his thick fingers tangling possessively into her soft blonde hair. He tilted her face up, leaned down, and captured her lips in a deep, crushing, and incredibly passionate kiss.

Rosé let out a soft, sweet whimper against his mouth, her hands instantly flying up to grip the fabric of his loose shirt. She pulled herself flat against his hard, muscular chest, standing up on her tiptoes just to reach him. Y/N’s mouth was hot and demanding, his tongue sliding smoothly past her lips to taste the sweet, lingering flavor of the soju on her tongue. The sheer hunger of the kiss made her head spin completely, a luxurious, slow-paced exploration of heat and wetness that sent flames licking through her veins.

As they kissed, Y/N’s other hand slid slowly down the curve of her spine. It trailed over the soft fabric of her beige pants before resting heavily on her cute, pert butt. His large fingers dug in, giving her ass cheek a firm, territorial squeeze that pulled her hips flush against the solid, straining bulge against his jeans. Rosé moaned into his mouth, her petite body melting completely against his massive warmth.

Behind them, the bar erupted. Jennie, Lisa, and Jisoo started screaming, cheering, and whistling at the top of their lungs, completely thrilled that their friend was finally getting exactly what she desperately needed. Y/N's friends laughed loudly, banging their beer bottles against the pool table in approval.

Y/N finally broke the kiss, though he kept his face incredibly close to hers, their lips still brushing as they panted for breath. He looked over her head at her cheering friends, a deeply satisfied, predatory grin on his handsome face. He kept his large hand firmly clamped onto Rosé’s butt.

"Hey," Y/N called out over the noise, his deep voice carrying a rough, commanding edge. "Don't wait up for her. She won't be getting any sleep tonight."

Jennie burst out laughing, clapping her hands together. "Take care of her, Y/N! Make sure she can't walk tomorrow!"

Rosé hid her burning, flushed face against the crook of Y/N’s neck, letting out a sweet, helpless giggle as she wrapped her slender arms tightly around his broad waist. She breathed in his intoxicating scent, her entire body buzzing with the thrilling anticipation of the long, incredibly passionate night ahead. She looked up at him, her dark eyes shining with pure lust.

"I sure hope so," Rosé whispered, her voice full of wicked promises as she pressed a soft kiss to his jawline. "Let's get out of here."

Y/N looked down at her, his eyes dark with absolute intent. He kept his arm wrapped securely around her slender waist, pulling her petite body flush against his side. Without another word, he turned and guided her toward the door of the bar. They stepped out into the cool, rainy autumn night together, leaving the safety of her girlfriends behind. Rosé was completely ready to go, consumed by the building fire in her core, ready to finally, beautifully, get the good fuck she had been waiting for.