cherry.

livin' in your wildest dreams.

[candidupped]

cherry / 21+ / she her

i reblog nsfw stuff, you're warned.

this acc just for fic recs or basically whatever I read if I reblog w tags it means i love it more than normal <3

hmu talk to me hehe we can talk bout anything as long i understand (◍•ᴗ•◍)

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Baby, That's Mine - Yang Jungwon

PART I

୨ৎ Summary : Two people. One bar. One really, really bad night to be alone. Y/n just caught her fiancé of two years in bed with her best friend. Jungwon just found out his girlfriend of six years has been cheating for god knows how long. Neither of them planned on ending up in a hotel room with a stranger — they just both really, really didn't want to be alone that night. No names. No numbers. Just two broken people borrowing comfort from each other for one night, then going their separate ways like it never happened. Except a month later, y/n's staring at two pink lines on a bathroom floor, and there's only one person it could possibly be. She makes her choice fast, she's keeping the baby, and she's doing it alone. no ring, no husband, no one's permission required. So she books her first prenatal appointment at some random clinic near campus, ready to start this chapter solo like she planned—and her doctor walks in. It's him. Yang Jungwon.

୨ৎ Pairing : obgyn! Jungwon x college lecturer! reader

୨ৎ Wordcount : 6,5k

୨ৎ Warning : aged-up Jungwon (he's 28 here), stranger to.... (still figuring out), one night stand, unprotected sex, cheating (not Jungwon or y/n), unprotected sex (BIG NO NO, PLEASE WRAP YOUR WILLY), pregnancy.

Tuesday was supposed to be ordinary.

The kind of day that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. You finished your morning lecture, replied to a few student emails, stopped by the grocery store on your way home because you'd promised to cook dinner. Nothing remarkable. Nothing that hinted your life was quietly approaching a fault line.

The apartment was supposed to be empty.

You remembered that detail clearly later. He'd told you that morning, half asleep, mumbling something about a meeting running until six. You had the whole afternoon to yourself, or so you'd thought, planning the pasta you'd make, the wine you'd open, the ordinary comfort of a Tuesday night at home. 

You unlocked the front door as quietly as always, balancing a paper bag of groceries against your hip. Then you heard laughter. A woman's laugh, low and familiar, drifting down the hallway like something out of a memory you couldn't quite place. For one suspended heartbeat, your mind simply refused to process it 

Then it did. Your best friend.

You took another step down the hallway. The bedroom door wasn't completely closed. It didn't need to be. Some truths don't ask to be witnessed completely. You already understood, before your conscious mind caught up, that whatever was happening in that apartment wasn't meant for your ears. 

The quiet intimacy of two people who had forgotten the rest of the world existed. Neither of them heard it. Or maybe they did. You didn't stay long enough to find out. There were no questions. No tears. No dramatic confrontation worthy of a movie scene. Because what explanation could possibly undo what you'd already seen?. You turned around before they could notice you. The front door clicked shut behind you with barely a sound. 

Two years of engagement, gone.

Two years of wedding plans scattered across your dining table. Two years of apartment hunting, shared grocery lists, lazy Sunday mornings, and conversations about children you thought you'd have someday. 

You don’t remember the walk to your car. You remember sitting behind the steering wheel with the keys in your hand and staring blankly at the windshield as the city morphed into streaks of bright light. It was just a blur of street lamps, head lights, and everything moving around you while your world was standing still. For a brief moment, you noticed that your hands weren’t shaking. You thought that was strange too. The way that your body had just suddenly gone still and cold and you were just as motionless as your body, like a state of shock had frozen you just outside of the situation.

You couldn’t say how long it was, but what you knew was that you suddenly found yourself standing in front of your closet. Your eyes were drawn to what was at the very back and hidden from view, your black dress. You hadn’t seen it for years.

"It's a little too much," he'd once said with an easy laugh.

"Too short."

"Too noticeable."

You remembered smiling then, folding the dress away because it hadn't seemed important enough to argue about.

You pulled it from the closet and let it fall over your body, the fabric cool and unfamiliar against your skin, hugging you in ways you'd forgotten you were allowed to be seen. It felt like putting on a stranger. Someone who wasn't trying to be agreeable anymore. Someone who had nothing left to protect and nothing left to lose.  You left the engagement ring where it was.

After leaving your phone in your purse, you grabbed your keys for the second time and stepped into the dark. You had no idea where you were headed but felt a certainty in your chest about leaving the life you had. You felt like you could not spend one more moment inside the life that no longer felt like it belonged to you.  

.

.

.

Tuesday hadn't given him any warning either.

Jungwon's shift had ended late. A delivery that ran longer than expected, hours stretched thin by complications that weren't anyone's fault, just the unpredictable nature of the job. By the time he clocked out, his scrubs still smelled faintly of antiseptic, his feet aching in a way that had become so routine he barely registered it anymore. All he wanted was his own bed, maybe food he didn't have to think about. 

He let himself into her apartment with the key she'd given him two years ago, the metal worn smooth from years in his pocket, attached to a keychain shaped like a tiny stethoscope. A joke gift from early in their relationship, something she'd laughed about giving him, something he'd kept clipped to his keys ever since without really thinking about why. 

The shower was running. Her tablet was face up on the kitchen counter, screen still lit from a notification. He hadn't meant to look. He told himself that for weeks afterward, though it stopped mattering fairly quickly whether he'd meant to or not.

A name he recognized. A string of messages that didn't need much context. Photos that answered questions he hadn't known to ask. He stood there in his work clothes, badge still clipped to his coat pocket, and read enough to understand that ‘residency's exhausting’ had been covering for something else entirely for months, maybe longer.

He didn't move at all, actually, just stood there in the kitchen with his hands loose at his sides, feeling something inside his chest go very still and cold. He didn't throw the tablet. 

She stepped out of the bathroom in a towel, damp hair pushed back, and stopped short in the doorway when she saw Jungwon standing there. Badge still clipped to his coat pocket, tablet lying face up on the counter exactly where she'd left it. Something in his stillness told her immediately that the evening wasn't going to go the way she'd planned.

"Jungwon?" Her voice came out careful, testing. "You're back early."

He didn't answer right away. He just looked at her, and she followed his gaze to the tablet, and whatever color was left in her face drained out of it in an instant.

"How long," he said. Not a question. A statement in the shape of a question.

"I—" She pulled the towel tighter around herself, a reflexive gesture, like modesty mattered now, of all moments. "Jungwon, it's not—"

"Don't." His voice remained quiet and level, the same tone he used when he had to tell a patient's family something they didn't want to hear. "Don't tell me it's not what it looks like. I read enough."

Her mouth opened, then closed. For a long moment, the only sound in the apartment was water still dripping somewhere in the bathroom behind her.

"How long," he said again.

She sat down slowly on the arm of the couch, like her legs had stopped being reliable. "Since spring," she said quietly. "Maybe a little before that."

"Spring." He turned the word over like he was checking it for a fracture. "Daeun, that's eight months."

"I didn't plan for it to happen." Her voice cracked slightly, and he almost hated how convincing it sounded, how rehearsed and unrehearsed all at once. "We were just–we started as friends, and then residency got so heavy, and you were always working, and he was just there, and I don't know, it just…"

"I was working," he repeated flatly. "Right. Because I have a job that saves lives, and that's the excuse."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" His voice finally rose. "Because from where I'm standing, you've had eight months to tell me. Eight months of me asking if you were okay, if something was wrong, and you telling me it was just residency. Eight months of me believing you."

She didn't answer that. There wasn't an answer that would have helped her.

"Six years," he said, quieter now, almost to himself. "Six years, and I find out like this. Off a notification on your tablet."

"I was going to tell you." Her eyes were wet now, genuinely, and some old, tired part of him almost felt sorry for her, which made him angrier at himself than at her. "I've been trying to figure out how, for weeks, I swear—"

"Don't," he said again, softer this time, because he didn't have the energy left to argue about her intentions. "It doesn't matter anymore. You could've told me in June. You could've told me in September. You didn't." He stopped, pressed the heel of his hand briefly against his eyes, then dropped it. "That's the part that matters."

"Jungwon…"

"I have to go." He was already reaching for his coat.

"Can we at least talk about this properly? Please. Don't just walk out,"

He paused at the door, hand on the frame, and looked back at her.  Tear streaked, still somehow looking for a version of this conversation that ended somewhere softer than where it actually was.

"There isn't a version of this where I stay, and we talk it through.”

"So that's it?" Her voice cracked properly now. "Six years, and you're just leaving? No fighting for it?"

He almost laughed, though nothing about it felt funny. "You didn't fight for it either," he said quietly. "Not for eight months."

He didn't wait for her response. The door closed behind him just shut, quiet and final, the same way the whole relationship seemed to be ending: without the drama it probably deserved, just a soft, ordinary sound marking something enormous coming apart.

He drove without any destination in mind, the radio off, the city sliding past in a blur of red lights, he stopped out of habit rather than attention. Six years. He kept circling back to the number like it might rearrange itself into something smaller, something easier to hold.

He ended up parking outside a bar he'd never been to. Not his usual place near the hospital, where someone always seemed to know his face even without the coat. Tonight, he didn't want to be recognized. He didn't want to be Dr. Yang, careful and composed, the boy faced physician everyone had to double take before trusting. He just wanted to sit somewhere dark and stop being anyone in particular for a while.

He loosened his tie in the car before he went in. Small, useless gesture. It didn't make him feel any less, as something had just been quietly taken from him.

.

.

.

The bar was louder than you expected for a Tuesday, but you didn't care. Noise was better than silence. Silence gave you room to think, and thinking was the last thing you wanted tonight.

By the time the bartender slid your fourth glass across the counter, the sharp edges of the evening had softened. The ache in your chest hadn't disappeared; it had simply become distant, like hearing thunder several miles away.  You shifted on the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. The black dress rode a little higher against your thigh, and for the first time in years, you didn't bother tugging it back down.

He would've hated that. The thought came uninvited. You emptied the rest of your drink before it could linger. 

That's when he sat down beside you. Close enough that you noticed before you even looked. He was handsome. That was your first thought. Your second was that he looked far too young to be sitting alone in a place like this. His white dress shirt was neatly pressed except for the loosened tie hanging around his neck, as though he'd started the evening trying to hold himself together and abandoned the effort somewhere along the way. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, exposing tired hands wrapped loosely around a glass he barely touched.

His gaze remained fixed on the amber liquid, unfocused, like he expected answers to settle at the bottom if he waited long enough. There was something strangely familiar about the way sadness sat on him. You almost didn't say anything. Almost.

You looked away. It wasn't your business. You weren't here to notice strangers. You were here to forget yourself. A minute passed, or maybe two. The bartender asked if either of you wanted another round. Neither of you answered. Without thinking, you let out a quiet breath.

"You look like you got dumped."

The words escaped before you could decide whether to keep them. Your voice came out flatter than you'd intended, stripped of humor, carrying more exhaustion than wit.

He turned toward you. Not offended, just surprised. For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. His eyes searched your face, lingering there with quiet curiosity, as though he couldn't decide if you were teasing him or speaking from experience. Then his gaze drifted lower to the diamond still resting on your left hand. A ring that caught the warm bar lights just enough to betray you. One corner of his mouth lifted into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"You still have your ring on," he said softly.

You followed his gaze, staring at the diamond as though you'd forgotten it was there. For a long moment, you simply twisted it around your finger.

"I forgot to take it off."

It wasn't entirely true. You hadn't forgotten. You just hadn't found the courage. His eyes met yours again.

"You look like you got dumped too."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"I did."

He gave a slow nod.

"So did I."

The words settled between you with the quiet understanding that only strangers could sometimes share. Neither of you asked for details or explanations. For tonight, it was enough to know that the person sitting beside you understood exactly what heartbreak looked like.

He glanced at your empty glass. "Another?"

You shook your head. "I think I've had enough of pretending a drink is going to fix anything."

Something about that made him almost smile, the first real one you'd seen from him all night, small and tired but genuine. "Yeah,me too."

The bartender came by again, and this time Jungwon was the one who waved him off, reaching instead for his wallet. You didn't argue when he paid for both of you. Some nights, you didn't have the energy left to insist on independence.

Outside, the air was cooler than you expected, sharp enough to cut through the haze just slightly. Neither of you moved toward a taxi right away. You just stood there for a moment under the bar's dim sign, the city noise a distant hum around you, both of you clearly aware that the night hadn't decided yet what it wanted to become.

"I don't usually do this," you said, not quite looking at him.

"Do what?"

"Any of this. Bars. Strangers. Standing outside at midnight, not knowing what I'm doing."

"Neither do I," he said. Then, after a pause, quieter, "I don't want to go home yet, though."

You understood exactly what he meant, because you felt the same thing sitting heavy in your chest. Home wasn't home anymore. Home was an apartment with echoes you couldn't bear to hear. Home meant seeing the engagement ring still circling your finger. Home meant admitting that tomorrow would arrive whether you wanted it to or not. For the first time that evening, you really looked at him.

He couldn't have been much younger than thirty, though his face carried an unmistakable softness that made him seem younger than he probably was. His tie still hung loose around his neck, his hair slightly disheveled, exhaustion written plainly across features that were almost unfairly handsome. 

He looked as though someone had reached into his life that morning and quietly removed the future he'd expected. That may be why he looked familiar.

"There's a hotel two blocks from here," you said.

He didn't ask if you were sure. He just nodded, like he'd been waiting for someone to say it first.

Neither of you filled the silence with questions about names, jobs, or the people who had broken your hearts. Some things felt strangely unimportant. Inside the elevator, your shoulders brushed for the first time. Neither of you moved away. 

The door had barely clicked shut before the tension that had been simmering between you in the elevator boiled over. There was no slow buildup, no romantic preamble; there was only a desperate, starving need to feel something other than the hollow ache in your chests.

Jungwon turned to you, his face flushed from the alcohol and the heat of the moment. He looked so young, almost innocent, but the look in his eyes was raw and hungry. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss that tasted of whiskey and grief. It was a collision, teeth clashing, breaths hitching as you both clung to each other like survivors of a shipwreck.

You groaned into his mouth, your hands sliding up his chest to grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there wasn't a sliver of air between your bodies. He backed you up against the door, the thud of your back hitting the wood echoing in the quiet room. His tongue pushed past your lips, claiming your mouth with an urgency that made your toes curl.

"Please," you whispered against his lips, though you weren't even sure what you were asking for.

He didn't answer with words. His hands slid down to your hips, lifting you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt riding up to your hips as he carried you toward the bed. He dropped you onto the white linens, his body following immediately, pinning you down with a weight that felt grounding and necessary.

Jungwon’s hands were frantic, stripping away the barriers of clothing. He pulled your dress over your head and tossed it aside, his eyes scanning your naked body with a mixture of awe and desperation. When he stripped off his own clothes, you saw the lean, toned muscles of a man who didn't look his age, his cock already hard and pulsing, straining against the air.

He didn't waste time. He moved between your thighs, his fingers sliding down to find your pussy. You were already soaking, the friction of the night and the emotional turmoil making you ache for him. He slid two fingers inside you, stretching you open, while his thumb worked your clit in a rhythmic, punishing pace. You arched your back, a loud moan escaping you as you neared the edge.

"Look at me," he murmured.

You opened your eyes to see him watching you, his expression a mask of longing. He positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, pausing for a heartbeat before thrusting deep inside you in one heavy, seamless motion.

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you completely. The sensation was overwhelming. The stretch, the heat, the sudden fullness that silenced the noise in your head. He began to move, his thrusts deep and rhythmic, driving into you with a primal intensity. Each hit of his pelvis against your ass sounded like a wet slap in the quiet room.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "You feel so good… shit, so tight…"

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another bruising kiss as he picked up the pace. He wasn't being gentle; he was fucking you with a desperation that mirrored your own, as if by driving himself into you, he could push out the memory of the woman who had betrayed him. You met every thrust, tilting your pelvis up to take him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.

The friction built, a coil of tension tightening in your lower belly. Jungwon’s movements became shorter, faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He shifted his grip, grabbing your thighs and pinning them back toward your chest to open you up even more. The angle allowed him to hit your cervix with every plunge, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your spine.

"I'm close—" he choked out, his muscles straining.

You felt your own climax rushing toward you, a tidal wave of release. You gripped his biceps, your voice breaking into a series of high-pitched whimpers. As you peaked, your pussy walls clamping tight around him in rhythmic spasms, Jungwon let out a low, guttural growl. He gave one final, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and shuddered violently as he came.

You felt the hot, thick jets of his cum pumping deep inside you, filling your womb with a warmth that felt almost spiritual in its intensity. He stayed buried inside you for a long time, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, your hearts beating in a synchronized, frantic rhythm.

As the adrenaline faded, the silence returned, but it was different now. The loneliness was still there, but it had been blunted. Jungwon slowly withdrew, the wet sound of his cock leaving your body echoing in the room. He didn't pull away completely; he rolled onto his side and pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

Neither of you spoke. There were no names exchanged, no promises of a second meeting. You just lay there in the dim light of the hotel room, two broken strangers sharing a bed, clinging to the fleeting comfort of a night that neither of you would ever forget.

.

.

.

A month passed by.

Long enough for the memory of that night to start to blur at the edges. Sometimes you thought you invented some of it.

You remembered the warmth of whiskey better than you remembered his face. His tie, loosened. How he’d just listened, without asking questions. A pair of tired eyes that had looked at you as if they knew something that nobody else knew.

All else had blurred, melting into the sort of memory that belonged to another version of you. You never came back to the bar. If he did, you wouldn't know it. And if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have known that either. That was maybe how it was always supposed to be. Life went on, as indifferent as ever. 

Life had moved on, in its own stubborn manner. You got out of the apartment. You’d gone and blocked your ex-fiancée’s number. You weren't going to speak to your ex-bestfriend, and you hadn't. It was a mercy in itself. Your students didn't know that anything was different. They looked at you like you were just their lecturer. Untroubled. Unbreakable.

You could almost pretend your life hadn’t fallen apart. For three hours at a time. That was enough. Until it wasn’t. It began on a Thursday. Not with nausea or vertigo. Only a date. 

You were standing in your kitchen, waiting on the coffee machine to finish brewing, when the thought came unbidden. Your monthly. Your brow wrinkled. You counted backwards, almost absentmindedly. Then you counted again. The answer was the same. It's late.

This was not normal.

Your body was always predictable, almost stubbornly so. Even in college, when your roommates complained about irregular cycles and surprise cramps, yours came like clockwork, and you didn’t bother tracking it anymore. You put your coffee mug down, untouched. 

"It's the stress," you whispered to the empty apartment. It must have been. 

It made sense, didn't it? The breakup, the move, months of your nervous system running on fumes. Bodies did strange things under pressure. You'd read that somewhere, or maybe you just wanted to have read it somewhere. 

You gave it a few more days. Then a week. The coffee you'd started craving black suddenly turned your stomach. Smells you'd never noticed before. The neighbor's cooking, the detergent in your own laundry, sent you running for air that didn't feel like it was choking you. 

One day a co-worker came into your office with take out. The smell alone would have you running for the nearest bathroom. You said it was the flu. Food poisoning.  Anything.  All of it. Except for that one possibility that’s silently trailing you from room to room.

By the time you found yourself standing in the pharmacy aisle staring at a shelf of boxes you never had reason to buy before, some quiet part of you, dreading, already knew. 

You stood in front of the shelf longer than you needed to. So many different brands. Different promises. Different prices. As though any of them could deliver a different answer. You bought two.

As soon as you were home, you didn't wait long to do. Sat on the side of the bathtub, phone timer ticking away before you began to look at your hands and realise they weren't even yours.

Two lines. Then two more.

You sat there for a long time after that, the tile cold beneath you, your mind doing the math it didn't want to do.  The date, the timeline, the one night that had blurred into something you'd tried hard to forget. There was only one night it could have been.

Your heartbeat stumbled.

"No..."

The word escaped before you realized you'd spoken aloud.

You remained there for what felt like hours, staring at the tests resting in your hands as though they belonged to someone else. 

There was only one person. One night. One stranger, with tired eyes and a loosened tie and a sadness that had looked so much like your own it hadn't frightened you. You didn't even remember his name. You didn't know his address. What was his work. If you'd ever see him again.  You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes. A man who existed in your memory as nothing more than tired eyes and a loosened tie, and you look like you got dumped, too.

You didn't know how to find him even if you'd wanted to.

A baby.

The words refused to settle. They hovered somewhere just beyond understanding, too large to fit into the quiet routine you'd been stitching back together over the last month. You were thirty two. Recently single. Still learning how to sleep in an apartment that echoed because there was no one else in it.

You'd spent years building a career you loved, teaching future educators how to nurture children with patience, consistency, and kindness. Ironically, you'd never decided whether motherhood belonged in your own future. You always assumed there would be time to figure it out.

You thought you had more time to decide that. You thought, if it ever happened, it would happen with someone you trusted, someone who'd chosen it with you, not a stranger from a bar whose last name you didn't even know. 

You thought about how easy it would be to end it before anyone had to know it happened at all. No one would ask questions. No one would even know there was something to ask about. You could keep moving forward exactly the way you'd planned, pick your life back up, untangled, unremarkable, the way it was supposed to look after a breakup like this. Clean. Simple.

You sat with that thought for a while, testing its weight, waiting to feel relief.

It didn't come.

Instead, you found yourself thinking about your own mother, who used to tell you that she'd never once regretted having you. Even though your father had left before you turned three. Hardest thing I ever did alone, she'd said once, and still the only decision I never doubted. You'd never fully understood what she meant by that until this exact moment, sitting on a bathroom floor with a truth in your hands you hadn't asked for.

You thought about the years you'd spent in classrooms full of small kids who trusted easily, loved easily, hadn't yet learned that people could hollow you out from the inside without warning. You'd built a career around believing children deserved good beginnings. You wondered, cruelly, whether you were about to fail that belief the moment it became personal.

Then you thought about the alternative. The quiet, empty version of your future you'd have to live with either way. A yes, you might regret, or a no, you were fairly sure you would.

You pressed a hand flat against your stomach, feeling nothing yet, nothing you could point to, and still somehow feeling everything.

A slow breath escaped you.

"I don't need him."

The words were barely louder than a whisper. You said them again.

"I don't."

You weren't trying to convince yourself. You already knew they were true. You didn't need a husband. You didn't need a wedding. You didn't need promises made by someone else to make this decision for you. If this child entered the world, it would be because you chose them. Not because of guilt.

You knew exactly what waited beyond this bathroom door. Questions, whispers and mostly it would be judgment. Forms with blank spaces labeled Father. A future that would be more difficult than the one you'd imagined for yourself. None of that disappeared simply because you'd made a decision. But neither did your resolve.

For the first time since walking into that apartment on Tuesday afternoon, you realized your future no longer felt defined by something that had been taken from you. It was being shaped by something you had chosen. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet and looked at your reflection in the mirror. You looked exhausted. Your eyes were swollen, your hair a mess, your expression still carrying traces of the woman who'd had her heart broken.

But beneath all of that, there was something new. Resolve. You rested your hand over your stomach once more.

"Okay," you whispered to the tiny life only you knew existed.

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite everything.

"It's you and me now."

The words sounded impossibly small in the quiet apartment. Yet,  somehow, they were enough.

.

.

.

The dream came to him three nights in a row.  Always the same, dissolving the moment he woke, leaving only fragments behind the way real dreams rarely do.

In it, he stood in a garden he didn't recognize, thick with fruit trees heavy enough that their branches bent low toward the ground. A woman he couldn't see clearly handed him a single peach, round and impossibly ripe, still warm like it had just been pulled from sunlight rather than a branch. 

He always woke up right after that. Nothing more happened. It didn't need to.

He didn't think much of it, not really. After all, dreams rarely made sense, and he'd learned a long time ago not to chase meaning where there probably wasn't any. Still, on the fourth morning, he found himself mentioning it to Sunoo over coffee in the hospital break room, mostly out of the strange, itching need to say it out loud to someone.

"I keep having this dream," he said, staring into his cup. "Same one, a few nights now. There's a garden, and someone hands me a peach. That's it. That's the whole dream."

Sunoo lowered his own cup slowly, staring at him with an expression somewhere between disbelief and barely contained excitement. "A peach?"

"Yeah."

"Ripe? Whole? Someone handed it to you directly?"

Jungwon blinked at him. "Yes? Why does that matter?"

Sunoo set his coffee down entirely now, leaning forward like Jungwon had just handed him the best gossip of the year. "Do you seriously not know what that is?"

"It's a dream about fruit?"

Honestly, Sunoo never wanted to face palmed himself, but hearing the dumb answer Jungwon gave him got him a reason to. 

"It's a taemong." When Jungwon only stared blankly back at him, Sunoo let out a groan of disbelief. "A conception dream. My grandmother used to talk about these constantly. Fruit, animals, sometimes fire or water, show up in a dream right before someone in the family finds out they're having a baby. Whole ripe fruit like that, handed directly to you? That's about as classic as it gets."

Jungwon huffed, unimpressed, turning his cup slowly between his hands. "You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious. It's not just some old wives' thing.  Half the moms I know still swear by it. My cousin dreamed about catching a fish barehanded, and two weeks later, she found out she was pregnant. My aunt dreamed about a dragon curling around her arm and had twins."

"That's confirmation bias," Jungwon said flatly. "People remember the dreams that match and forget the ones that don't."

"Sure, sure, very scientific of you, Dr. Yang." Sunoo waved a hand, entirely unbothered by the skepticism. "But you're not the one who usually has these dreams, that's the funny part. It's not always the mother. Sometimes it's the father, or a grandparent, sometimes even a close friend if the dream's strong enough. But if it's the father dreaming it..." He trailed off, grinning now, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "That usually means it's already happened. The universe is just running a little behind on paperwork."

Jungwon rolled his eyes, though something in his chest had gone strangely tight at the words, an unease he couldn't quite explain rationally. "I don't believe in that stuff."

"You don't have to believe in it for it to be true," Sunoo said, entirely too pleased with himself. "That's kind of the whole point of a folktale, isn’t it?"

Jungwon didn't have a response for that. He just sat there, turning his coffee cup slowly in his hands, telling himself it was nothing. Probably just stress, exhaustion, and an overactive mind conjuring strange images after too many back to back shifts. He didn't have a girlfriend anymore. There was no one in his life the dream could reasonably be about.

He didn't let himself finish that thought all the way through.

"It's nothing," he said again, mostly to convince himself. "Just a weird dream."

Sunoo shrugged, tossing his empty cup toward the trash with practiced ease, clearly unconvinced but willing to let it go. "Sure. Just a weird dream."

Jungwon didn't think much more of it after that. Not consciously, anyway. But the image stayed with him regardless, lingering somewhere quiet at the edges of his following days.  A garden, a peach, and a stranger's hands offering him something he hadn't known, yet, that he was already holding.

.

.

.

The clinic wasn't one you'd been to before.

A coworker had recommended it months ago, so excited about the obstetrics department that you'd written the name down without a second thought. It was near campus, near enough to squeeze in an appointment between lectures without sacrificing half your day to traffic.

You wish. That was it. Comfort. Distance from your former life. A doctor who didn’t know your story. Somebody who would see one more first time patient. That's all.

You sat, one leg bouncing under your chair, fingertips tracing the edge of the bracelet wrapped loosely about your wrist. You'd practiced the appointment on the drive over. If they asked about the father, you would tell them as you have been rehearsing it in your mind. 

We're not together.

If they pressed further, then—

I'd rather not discuss it.

Simple.

"Y/L/N?"

A nurse called your name, and you followed her down a hallway that smelled like antiseptic and lavender hand soap, into a small exam room with a poster of a fetal development chart on the wall that you deliberately didn't look at too long.

"Dr. Yang will be with you in just a moment," the nurse said, and left you there with your paper gown and your racing thoughts.

You didn't think anything of the name. Yang wasn't uncommon. You sat on the edge of the exam table, hands folded in your lap, running through the questions you wanted to ask — due dates, next steps, whether the exhaustion you'd been feeling was normal or something to worry about.

Then the door opened.

"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Yang Jung—"

The sentence didn't finish. It just stopped, cut clean in half, the way a record scratches when the needle's yanked away too fast.

You looked up. And your whole body went cold.

He remained frozen in the doorway, one hand still curled around the handle like he'd forgotten how to let go of it. The patient chart in his other hand slipped slightly in his grip, not enough to fall, just enough that you noticed his fingers had momentarily stopped remembering their one job. Recognition moved across his face almost instantly, undisguised, unrehearsed, nothing like the practiced composure a doctor was supposed to walk into a room with.

The overhead lights were full on him now. Clinical, unfriendly, not like the dim gold haze of that bar a month ago. No booze to take the edge off. No shadows to hide the details And you couldn’t miss him. Same face. Same eyes that witnessed you break against a hotel room door. Quiet and searching, in a way that had seemed to him that night the only honest thing left in the world. Except the face was on a man in a white coat. A stethoscope draped around his neck. His name stitched in careful navy thread over his heart.

Yang Jungwon.

Neither of you said anything. The seconds stretched, thin and unbearable, the fluorescent hum of the room suddenly deafening in the silence. As if hoping he was mistaken. He wasn't.

"...You?"

It barely qualified as a word. More breath than voice. Your mouth had gone completely dry. The sentence never got a chance to finish. Neither of you needed it to.

You weren't doing much better. Your hands had grown cold, and sat in your lap, fingers pressed together hard enough to leave imprints. The paper gown crackled a little with each too-quick breath. You’d spent a month talking yourself into believing that night belonged to some other you, reckless and grieving and gone by morning. And here he was, a white coat, a stethoscope around his neck, his name stitched over his heart, undeniably real, undeniably the same man.

Neither of you said anything. 

His gaze dropped. Not to the chart. To your left hand. The engagement ring was gone. Then, almost involuntarily, his eyes moved lower. To the file tucked beneath his arm. He looked at your name. Gestational age. Estimated conception date. The room became impossibly quiet. His jaw tightened. Not because he was calculating. Because he already had. He didn't need the dates. He remembered the night. The chart simply confirmed what he already knew.

"...Is the baby mine?"

[stwryun]

your boyfriend jake loves holding eye contact as he watches you ride him ୨୧ jake x reader ୨୧ mdni

you’re in jake’s dimly lit bedroom, the air thick with the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of soldering flux and old books. the space is pure nerd heaven shelves overflowing with manga, warhammer minis, and stacks of programming textbooks. his gaming setup glows softly in the corner, rgb lights pulsing like a heartbeat.

jake lies beneath you on his messy bed, hoodie and tshirt rucked up to his collarbones, exposing his surprisingly smooth, lean chest and the faint trail of hair leading down. his thick black glasses are still perched on his nose, slightly fogged already, and his cock — hard, flushed, and throbbing — waits for you.

you hover over him, heart racing with that familiar shyness. being on top always makes you feel so exposed, so vulnerable. but Jake’s hands gently grip your hips, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him.the stretch is delicious, inch by thick inch filling you until your ass meets his thighs and he’s buried to the hilt inside your tight, wet heat. a soft, broken moan escapes your lips.

“eyes on me,” jake breathes, his voice low and husky but still carrying that soft, analytical edge. his dark eyes lock onto yours instantly, refusing to let go. “don’t look away even for a second.”

riding jake means holding eye contact with him the entire time. it’s so fucking hard when you’re already shy about taking control like this — about being the one moving, bouncing, showing him exactly how desperate you are. your cheeks burn, you want to bury your face in his neck, hide in the safety of his hoodie, or squeeze your eyes shut. but he doesn’t care he needs your eyes on him.

he cups your jaw with one hand, thumb stroking your flushed cheek as you start to roll your hips. “that’s it, baby look right at me while you ride my cock,” he whispers, voice trembling with restraint. “i want to see everything every flicker every moan.”

you move slowly at first, grinding in deep, sensual circles. the wet slide of him inside you is obscene, stretching you perfectly, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. jake’s breath hitches every time you clench around him, but his gaze never wavers —intense, hungry, loving. those nerdy eyes drink in your face like it’s the most beautiful equation he’s ever solved.

you pick up the pace, lifting and dropping onto him with soft, slick sounds. your tits bounce with every motion. jake’s free hand slides up your body, cupping one breast, pinching your nipple just right while his thumb brushes over it. the pleasure spikes, and you whimper, your rhythm faltering for a moment.

“eyes,” he reminds you gently but firmly, tilting your chin back to him when your gaze starts to drift. “don’t you dare look away i need to watch you fuck yourself on me.”

the eye contact makes everything more intimate, almost unbearably so. you can see every tiny detail the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, the flush creeping down his neck, the way his lips part when you squeeze around him. he’s studying you — your parted lips, your hooded eyes, the way your eyebrows knit together when he angles his hips just right to grind against that perfect spot deep inside.

you ride him harder, faster, the slap of skin on skin filling the room alongside your shared moans. sweat beads on your skin. your hands brace on his chest, feeling his heart hammering wildly under your palms.

“fuck… you feel so good,” jake groans, his voice cracking in that adorable way. “so tight so wet keep looking at me while you take every inch — good girl you’re doing so well.”

the praise mixed with that unwavering stare pushes you closer to the edge. your thighs burn, but you can’t stop. every bounce sends sparks through your body. jake’s hands grip your hips tighter, helping you now, pulling you down onto him with each thrust. his glasses slip further down his nose, but he doesn’t fix them he’s too lost in you.

you’re so close. your pussy flutters around his cock, clenching rhythmically as the pressure coils tighter.“don’t close your eyes,” he pants, voice raw. “look at me when you come i want to see it — need to see it.”

the orgasm crashes into you like a supernova. you cry out, loud and shameless, your whole body shaking as intense waves of pleasure rip through you. your inner walls pulse and squeeze around him, milking his cock. but your eyes stay locked on his the entire time — wide, glassy, completely undone. jake watches every second of it, mesmerized, groaning deeply as your climax triggers his own.

he thrusts up into you one last time, burying himself as deep as possible while he comes hard, pulsing and spilling inside you with a broken, whimpering moan that sounds so perfectly nerdy and desperate.

for a long moment, you stay like that — connected, breathing heavily, eyes still locked in that raw, intimate stare. then jake pulls you down gently against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, still panting softly.

“god i love when you look at me like that,” he murmurs against your hair, voice warm and sated. “best data i’ve ever collected.” you smile, boneless and glowing, knowing your sweet, brilliant nerd boyfriend will never let you hide during moments like this. and honestly ? you don’t want to anymore.

⭐️ wrote this on a whim and i love it

[stllmnstr]

boys like you (m)

pairing: yang jungwon x reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, university-ish au

word count: 23.0k

warnings: smut (mndi), swearing, alcohol consumption, post graduation existentialism, the horrors of the modern job market, jealousy, insecurity, itty bitty age gap (reader is one year older), he’s obsessed he’s possessive he’s jealous but in a very jungwon way

note: I in fact did not keep it under 20k #oops. But I had lots of you in my comments and inbox telling me that you prefer longer fics anyway, so I hope you enjoy all 23k words of jungwon who years and pines over his childhood bestie <3

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

One year your junior and a constant fixture in your life since before you lost your baby teeth, Yang Jungwon has always existed in a category of his own. You don’t see him as a brother, but you don’t see him as a man. He’s just… Jungwon. Steady, reliable, consistent Jungwon who’s always there when you need him.

It’s why you feel comfortable admitting to him the latest addition to your list of post-graduation anxieties: dating. Namely, the fact that no matter what you try, you just can’t seem to make it work. To make a connection stick. But Jungwon, despite all of his typical predictability, doesn’t take your complaints quite the way you expect him to.

or, you tell Jungwon that you think boys just don’t like you and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything quite so ridiculous.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

If you look at it from a distance and squint, there really isn’t anything wrong with Park Sunghoon. 

In fact, if anything, he might be a little bit out of your league. With full lips, an easy smile, and long, dark hair that dusts over the angular planes of his cheekbones, he’s a sight for sore eyes. Especially since they are rather sore. Your eyes, that is.

You’ve spent the last week fine tuning your resume for all thirty-six job applications you fired off with crossed fingers and a silent prayer. Your daily screen time is reaching dangerous levels, and you doubt the blue light blocking glasses you picked up from the dollar store are doing much to mitigate the effects of it.

Life post-graduation has been like this, more or less. Six months ago, officially earning your university diploma felt like victory, like the end of a hard earned battle.

But now, you aren’t so sure. Not when the last one hundred eighty days have been nearly identical copies of monotonous despair, one rejected job application after another. 

A cover letter here, a mission statement there, a detailed history of your personal opinion on the role of social media in modern society — that one had been for a marketing gig that you weren’t even interested in, not if the advertised salary were as low as the posting claimed. But at this point, you were starting to get desperate.

And still, it’s all been to no avail. Rejection after rejection. Ghosting after ghosting. Ridiculous, you think. These are hiring departments after all, not some frat boy you hooked up with last Friday after one too many shots of tequila. All your effort surely warrants at the very least a response.

But forty-seven of the eighty-nine jobs you’ve applied to in the last month seem to disagree.

And it’s not like you hate the part time gig you picked up at the flower shop a few blocks away from your apartment, but you didn’t work your ass off for four years, earning your degree in a specialized field, just to spend the rest of your life explaining the differences between roses and dahlias to men that piss off their girlfriends. 

It’s disheartening, to say the least. Demoralizing. A rinse and repeat cycle that becomes more exhausting with each passing day, each unreturned email. 

Most days, you feel a little bit like a shell of yourself. Hollowed from the inside out, just waiting for a scrap of decent news. 

It’s why you only said no three times when Sophia suggested that maybe you break up the monotony with a little good, old-fashioned romance. 

And not just romance. Dating, blind dating, because she swore the mystery of it all would make it more fun.

The first three times she suggested it, you waved her off easily with some half-witted excuse and a roll of your eyes. 

But the fourth time, your friend caught you in a weak spot. 

“Come on,” she’d insisted over an overpriced latte. She didn’t mind shelling out for a soy milk substitute, even. She was one of the lucky ones that managed to line up a job immediately after graduation, one she got from the third-year internship she had. 

So Sophia had her big girl job and her big girl salary. You, on the other hand, were wincing at the bitter taste of drip coffee straight from the machine. 

“I don’t know…” You’d trailed off, unsure. That morning, you’d received a rejection notice from a company you were genuinely excited about. The position matched your qualifications and professional interests to a T. You weren’t one to make premature bets, but when you clicked submit on the official application three weeks prior, part of you had felt like it was fate. A sure thing. 

The email this morning proved you wrong. 

Dear Candidate, it had started. Because of course, even after all the time you spent tailoring your resume to their standards, you weren’t even worth the effort of typing your name. 

Thank you for your interest in joining our team. We regret to inform you that we have decided to move forward with other candidates at this time. If, in the future, other positions become available, please do not hesitate to apply again. 

Rejection wasn’t anything new at this point, but this one stung. It felt personal. 

You were tired of constantly hearing no, of always having every path blocked the second you worked up the courage to venture down it. You were desperate for something to take your mind off of it all. 

You wanted to do something fun. And more than that, you needed a reminder that you weren’t a failure. That at least in some capacity, your time and your presence and your efforts were worth something.

If the only available context for that was a date, even a blind one, so be it. 

“It’ll be fun,” Sophia insisted. “I promise. Besides, the guy I have in mind is really cool. He’s been at my company for a couple of years now, and he’s really friendly, even to the new hires. Comes off a little cold at first maybe, but I think he’s just a little shy. You’d like him.”

You still weren’t sold. You took another long sip of black coffee and winced at the taste of burnt beans. 

“What was his name again?” you asked. 

Sophia grinned, knowing she’d finally won. “Sunghoon,” she told you, smile entirely too smug for your liking. “Park Sunghoon.”

Now, a week later, you can’t help but curse yourself for caving. After all, blind dates are a far cry from romance, and the only thing that your time with Sunghoon is doing, lovely as he may be, is giving you a different source for your headaches. 

Across from you, Sunghoon takes a slow sip of red wine. His eyes stay where they should. You can at least appreciate that Sophia didn’t set you up with a total sleaze. If anything, you think he looks a bit unsure when he meets your gaze.

After another moment of stilted silence, he asks, “What do you like to do for fun?” You watch as Sunghoon swirls his half full glass before setting it back down on the table. Aerating it, probably. He strikes you as the kind of person that isn’t entirely bullshitting when they say they know their wines. 

It’s a perfectly normal question, run-of-the-mill for a first date. And yet, your mind can’t seem to do anything but come up completely blank. 

What do you like to do for fun? Even privately, you're beginning to wonder. It’s as if the job search has taken any joy you used to find in your free time and turned it into existential dread.

You like to go for walks, but it’s been extra rainy these days and you hate how the late autumn air makes your skin feel sticky after just a few minutes. Not to mention the end of season mosquitoes. You swear they’re bigger than any other time of year.

You like to read, but the last time you opened a book for pleasure was half a year ago. You’re pretty sure that same exact novel is still sitting half-finished beneath your bedside table.

Cooking is nice for stress relief, you suppose, but your meals are more for function than show. You doubt Sunghoon wants to hear about the frozen spinach you sautéed last night. 

You have been catching up on the latest season of a ridiculously staged reality TV show lately, but you can hardly own up to that. If an hour’s worth of catty drama and hair pulling every Sunday night is the first hobby you think of, Sunghoon will no doubt think you’re the most vapid person he’s ever met. 

So instead you say, “Oh, you know.” You try a laugh, hoping it will make you seem easy going instead of cagey. “Things.”

Sunghoon just arches a brow. He doesn’t know. That’s why he asked. 

And it’s not like it’s a crime to be awkward on first dates, but you’re starting to feel like you’d be given a life sentence without parole if it was. 

Desperate to get his gaze off of you, you return the question. “What about you?”

Maybe the universe will spare you and Sunghoon will be equally bad at condensing his life into bite-sized pieces easily digestible on first dates. Maybe his good luck starts and ends with his face and he’ll be equally tight-lipped about his own interests.

But then, after a pause to gather his thoughts, he starts talking. Your hope for equal footing starts to circle the drain with more urgency.

“I’ve been really into exercising lately,” he tells you. “I grew up figure skating, so it’s been nice to get back to doing something more physical. It’s been great, too, trying out some new protein-focused recipes and getting out for runs when the weather allows it. I really miss the ice, but it just isn’t feasible with work and everything else these days. It’s been fun to try out some new hobbies that are somewhat similar.”

“Oh,” you flounder for a moment. It’s truly pathetic, you think. Maybe talking about yourself is difficult, but how are you so unable to even respond to his answers? “That’s nice.”

Sunghoon, to both his credit and Sophia’s, really does seem to be a nice guy. He’s trying. Doing his best to keep the conversation going. 

“Do you like to exercise?” he asks.

You wonder distantly if following a YouTube video at home on yoga for stress relief once in a while counts. 

Deciding it doesn’t, at least not to a former figure skater, you shrug. “Not really.”

“Oh,” he nods. After a moment of awkward silence, he asks, “What do you think about the wine?”

It’s a simple question, an easy question, but it’s hard to get momentum once you’ve lost it. To you, this date already feels a bit like a sinking ship and even a question as simple as this feels like a test you’ll inevitably fail. 

“It’s nice,” you say. “Goes well with the food.” And unfortunately does very little to soothe your frayed nerves.

“I agree,” Sunghoon nods. “Apparently it’s made from grapes grown in a specific region of southern France. They get more sunlight than the average vineyard, and the soil is fertilized in some special way that makes the flavor more intense.”

He smiles at you, and it’s objectively gorgeous. The kind of look that you feel like you should be fawning over, that you should go home dreaming about. 

Park Sunghoon is the kind of guy that feels made for fantasies. Thinking about it now, you’re not really sure how he could even be single, or how Sophia managed to convince him to see you tonight. 

But no matter how long you wait for the butterflies to come, they just… don’t. 

It’s not because you don’t like him, but the idea of getting to know him, of letting him get to know you, is suddenly exhausting. 

You’re afraid that whatever parts of yourself you reveal will come up short, will inevitably be found lacking. Your hobbies aren’t interesting enough for a guy like him. You’re not particularly well-traveled or well-read, and you did well in your degree but not enough for it to be part of a dinner conversation. 

You just… you don’t feel interesting. Not in the kind of way that guys like him are attracted to. So when you go home after another half hour of stilted conversation and too-long lulls of silence, you’re not daydreaming about his smile or his dimples or the second date he definitely won’t ask you on. 

Instead, you wait until you’re out of eyesight to let the smile you’ve been keeping plastered to your lips fall from your face. 

Looking out at the sky, the sun that’s beginning to set on the horizon doesn’t feel like an omen or a fresh start. It just feels like a sunset. The end of another day full of nothing special. Unremarkable. Ordinary.

You’re not giddy or excited or particularly moved at all. You’re not angry either, though. Not disappointed. If anything, you feel a strange sense of hollowness, one with a glare that’s especially apparent under the street lights that are just beginning to glow. 

You miss the days when things felt exciting, when you would meet the eye of someone cute across a lecture hall and go home daydreaming about it. Spinning around your room, kicking your feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.

It’s not Sophia’s fault. It’s not even Park Sunghoon’s. But when you finally get back home to your apartment and flick on the lights of your empty bedroom, all you do is sigh. 

…..

You thought that when you walked across your university stage six long months ago and were officially given your diploma, you’d be done drowning your post-midterm stress with cheap beer. 

But you forgot to account for one small detail — Jungwon.

You suppose your friendship with him might look a little strange from the outside, but he’s been a constant in your life since before you even knew how to tie your own shoes. 

Like most childhood friendships, it wasn’t forged of your own volition. Your mother decided the summer before you started kindergarten that her new favorite hobby was going to be gardening. Which was fine and all, except for the fact that she knew literally nothing about gardening and had killed just about every houseplant she ever owned. 

To her credit, she tried. She asked the kind elderly lady working the till at the garden supply store for advice and bought the overpriced gloves and trowel she suggested. She scoured blogs and Wikipedia articles and online forums for all the best and latest in flower cultivation. 

But your mother simply did not have a green thumb, and after months of watching from her window in silent pity, Mrs. Yang decided to do something about it.

She took one look at your mother’s wilted tiger lilies and sighed. Gently, because even in her exasperation she managed to be kind, a trait she passed onto her son.

You weren’t so interested in whatever she told your mom about fertilizer and shearing, though. Nor were you really interested in the garden at all. 

But you did find the boy currently hiding behind Mrs. Yang’s practical work pants far more fascinating than anything you’d seen in months. 

Before school started, finding another kid your age was like striking gold. An only child, you were doted on by your parents but only rarely had the opportunity to play with other kids. This one, even if he was determined to hide out of sight, felt like a gift, a friend you were determined to make yours. 

Back then, he was a shy kid. 

It had taken a fair amount of coaxing from his mother, but he finally found the courage to meet your eye. To come out from his hiding spot and introduce himself.

Jungwon, he said his name was, and you gave him yours in return. 

You asked about his birthday and could hardly contain the smug smile that spread across your lips when you realized he was younger than you. A whole ten months. Practically a baby. Nowhere near ready to start kindergarten, like you were. He’d have to wait a whole nother year. 

Other than the bragging rights it afforded you, you didn’t mind so much. 

That summer, Mrs. Yang helped your mother turn her misshapen, weed-addled, overgrown mess of a flower bed into something truly beautiful. 

And nearly every time she came over, she brought Jungwon in tow. The two of you weren’t trusted to wander far yet, but he made your afternoons far more interesting, even under the watchful gaze of your mothers.

He was excited about the same things you were — searching for bugs in the flower bed, digging in the dirt with the plastic shovel set you’d been given for your last birthday, and building homes for the fairies you convinced him really existed using fallen leaves and twigs. 

Your friendship might have begun as one of convenience, but the long, sunny afternoons you spent together ensured that none of it was forced.

Your mothers were thrilled too. Both of you were overly curious only children, and it was nice to have your attention occupied elsewhere, to share private smiles at how sweet your little friendship was becoming. 

They sighed when you came back from an afternoon of playing with dirt smudged across your clothes and cheeks and cooed when you fell asleep after washing up, sprawled out across your living room floor with pillows you’d pulled off the couch. 

Even though you’d been anticipating it for months, the beginning of kindergarten was something you started to dread. And the further you got in your academic journey, the one-year gap between you started to feel less like victory and more like a curse.

You still remember the failed math quiz you brought home from second grade one afternoon, a big, red F written across the top even though you were usually excellent with times tables. 

It had taken a fair amount of coaxing, but your mother finally got the truth from you. How you were thinking that if you managed to do poorly enough to fail the second grade, you could just do it again next year. With Jungwon. 

Of course she explained to you how terrible of an idea it was, and you didn’t try it again, but for the next few months, every aced exam still felt a little bit like defeat.

Until the seventh-grade, that is, when you decided to fully embrace your role as his elder. 

Jungwon was just starting middle school, after all. He was brand new to the world of lockers and passing periods and so much axe body spray it seemed to permanently hover outside the boy’s locker room like a rain cloud. 

You made him pinky promise you not to buy any, and all he did was scrunch his nose in distaste, insisting that he never would, that he didn’t like strong smells anyway.

Jungwon might have been new to it all, but you, however, had already been this whole middle school thing for a year. You were one year older and wiser and could help him navigate all of the pitfalls with your hard earned expertise.

You thought it was the best idea ever, an example of your commendable generosity and kindness, until one Wednesday afternoon proved you entirely wrong.

You were hovering just behind him as he worked through his locker combination, weight shifted to one hip as you balanced your science textbook against the other. 

Still a couple inches taller than him thanks to the growth spurt that had hit you early, you didn’t have to crane your neck too hard to see over his shoulder. To provide any assistance he might need.

Finally, after getting the combination right, his locker clicked open.

Jungwon sighed. Glancing back at you, he mumbled, “Why are you here? Don’t you have science right now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, gesturing to the textbook in your hands. “But that’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“I have math next,” he pointed out, as if you didn’t already know. As if you didn’t have his schedule memorized before he did. “Which is in the opposite direction. Just go. You don’t want to be late again.”

It’s true. You don’t. Your mom said she’d shave an hour off of your allotted Saturday cartoon-watching time if it happened again. 

But it was okay. It was a sacrifice you were willing to make. You told him as much.

“That’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Mr. Lee usually isn’t too strict about tardies, so—“

“Just go,” he interrupted, back still turned to you. This time, his voice was sharper than usual. It cut through the air like an accusation, leaving you more than a little shocked. “You don’t have to follow me around everywhere.”

You frowned at that. But still, you thought that maybe he was just worried about you, about whatever punishment your mother had promised. So, to ease his worries, you insisted, “I don’t mind. I’m a year older, so I should—“

“Ten months,” he corrected, voice like ice. And he still wouldn’t look at you. “You’re ten months older.”

Your frown deepened. “Thats the same thing.”

“No it’s not,” Jungwon shook his head, voice rising. His anger, his annoyance, were apparent now. “Stop treating me like a baby.”

“I don’t—” You tried to protest. 

But he wasn’t having it. “You do.” He insisted. “You treat me like I’m a little kid and it’s driving me insane. The other boys on the taekwondo team think so, too. They’re starting to say things—“

“What kinds of things? Who?” It didn’t matter if he was angry or annoyed at you. As far as you were concerned, if anyone was giving Jungwon a hard time, it was your business too. You didn’t know the boys on the taekwondo team very well, but you were suddenly feeling very violent, a bad idea given that the boys in question were trained in martial arts and you’d spent no time on a training mat in all twelve years of your life.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jungwon shook his head. He still wouldn't turn around and look at you. “Just leave me alone.”

You’d had fights before. Little tiffs that started nearly the same day you’d met. But they were always small, just bouts of bickering that may have left you pouting but never with any truly hurt feelings.

This was different. This… this stung. 

Just like the tears that started to gather against your lash line without your permission, pressing dangerously against the inner corner of your eyes.

Still, you couldn’t help but ask, a little pathetically, “You don’t want me to walk with you?”

“I don’t need you to follow me around everywhere,” he repeated, crueler than he had to be, “fussing over me like you’re my mom or something.”

“Fine,” was all you said. Suddenly, you were grateful that he wouldn’t look at you. If he saw how affected you were, that you were on the verge of crying, it would be more humiliating than you could handle. “Just walk by yourself then.”

Turning, you only paused once you were a few steps away. “And here,” you’d reached into your pockets, pulling out the coupons you’d cut out of the newspaper earlier this week, the surprise you were planning to show him after school. “You can just have these. Give them to your taekwondo friends, since you care what they think so much.” 

Jungwon waited until you were around the corner to turn around, to see what you’d thrown at his feet. Bending, he picked them up, guilt swirling deep in his gut as he tucked the coupons for half price ice cream from the nearby shop, the one that you knew always had his favorite flavor, into his pocket.

You didn’t talk to Jungwon for a week. 

You were late to class that day, partly because of Jungwon and partly because you had to spend the next ten minutes calming down in the bathroom stall while you wiped evidence of your tears away.

True to her word, your mom didn’t let you watch cartoons Saturday morning. And you spent all your extra time thinking about where exactly you went so wrong.

The silent treatment didn’t last long. You and Jungwon were like that — you’d spent so much time together that you’d learned how to get over things quickly. 

Grudges never held for long, and time didn't need to pass too far for both of you to forget what you were mad about in the first place. 

But this time, even after the dust had settled, things between you didn’t go entirely back to normal. For starters, you didn’t wait for him by his locker anymore, didn’t offer to walk him to math or science or P.E. or any of his other classes. 

Even though the two of you shared a school, the only time you really saw him anymore was on the bus ride home. And that was only on the days he didn’t have taekwondo practice. 

But with Jungwon, things had a way of coming back around. It wasn’t long before he was seeking you out intentionally again, before your friendship felt less like walking on eggshells and more like something comfortable.

But you had learned two valuable lessons that day by his locker.

One, Jungwon was sensitive. More so than you ever realized. In ways you didn’t always fully understand.

And two, the gap between your ages may have been small, but he really, truly resented any attention you brought to it. In his own words, he hated it when you made him feel like a kid. 

So you learned. You adjusted. And by the time high school came around, you were practically a pro at ignoring the ten months that separated you. 

There were still times that you wanted to guide him, to help him, but you did your best to hold yourself back. You tried to empathize, too. To see things from his point of view. It made sense, you supposed. Jungwon didn’t want a second mother. He just wanted a friend. 

One that wouldn’t dote on him too much or smother him or embarrass him in front of his teammates. That’s not to say he didn’t use your age to his advantage on occasion, though. 

When you got your driver’s license a whole year before him, he wasn’t shy about asking for rides. And when junior year chemistry proved to be harder than he thought, he accepted your journal full of meticulously taken notes with little more than a sigh of relief. 

You didn’t mind so much. Besides, it wasn’t like you were the only generous one in your relationship. Friendship with Jungwon never felt like a burden, never felt like a debt to settle. 

For all of your age-afforded privileges, he more than made up for them just by being there. Because Jungwon grew up in the way few boys do—he learned to observe, to listen before he spoke. To treat words like something precious and use them only when he really meant them. 

Jungwon was your confidant, your most trusted source of advice. You went to him with things that you felt like you couldn’t tell anyone else, and he received it all with open arms and a thoughtful furrow of his brow. 

Jungwon wasn’t the type to pass judgment. He just listened, contemplated, and then gave the best, most logical answer he could think of. 

He talked you down from your spiral of self-hate after you convinced yourself a failed physics test was the end of your life junior year and helped you analyze the pros and cons of your top university choices when your high school graduation date started approaching with alarming speed. 

Affection came easy between the two of you, because it didn’t feel complicated. It felt natural, just like the day he introduced himself amongst the ruins of your mother’s failed garden. 

So when you told him, senior year, that you agreed with his advice, that you had decided to attend university in your hometown, a mere thirty-minute drive from the high school you were graduating from, all he did was smile. 

He hugged you after you accepted your diploma from your principal and handed you a bouquet of flowers. He complained about having to stick around in high school for another year, and you assured him that senior year was different from the others. It was better. 

Your year apart was difficult, but it also gave you space for things you hadn’t considered before. Things like other friends. You met Sophia at freshman orientation, and the two of you became inseparable. 

You still saw Jungwon, of course. Weekends, holidays, and even the occasional weeknight dinner meant he was still very much a part of your life. And when you couldn’t meet in person, you talked. Texted. Called. 

Which is exactly how you broke the news of your first ever boyfriend. 

There had been crushes in high school, but they were fleeting. Insignificant. This was different. Jay was different, and just as you always had, you spared Jungwon none of the gory details. 

You told him all about the flowers he bought you, all about how romantic it was when he asked you on a proper date. How sweet it was when he picked you up and opened the passenger door of his car for you and how special you felt when he picked up the dinner check without so much as a sideways glance at you.

But Jungwon, steady, reliable Jungwon, seemed to become uncharacteristically terse whenever Jay came up. His texts got shorter, his responses further and fewer between. 

The calls that used to drag on for hours started ending suddenly whenever you brought up your boyfriend. Jungwon always had an excuse ready—he had homework to do or a project to finish or an errand to run for his mom. 

But you’d have to be stupid not to notice the common denominator in it all. Jay. 

For a while, the choice was easy. Jay was here, with you. He wanted your attention and your time. He liked hearing about your day and telling you about his and spending as much time with you as your schedules allowed. 

Jungwon, on the other hand, was becoming more difficult to reach the longer your relationship went on. 

Slowly, but steadily, Jay started to become the person you went to for advice. The contact name you searched for whenever you had something to say. The boy you spent your weekends with, making new memories, laughing about nothing. 

You trusted him. You were new to it, the feelings, the rush of it all, but after a few months, you were pretty sure you loved him. 

Jay was your first relationship, your first real boyfriend, and eventually, the person you trusted enough to lose your virginity to. 

Which made it all the more devastating when he told you, sometime in the middle of spring semester, that he didn’t want to see you anymore. That he enjoyed your time together, but he didn’t feel the same spark you did. The same level of connection. 

You cried until you were numb, and you were numb until one by one, your feelings started to come back in overwhelming waves. And every time they did, the only person you really wanted to see was your best friend. 

The boy you barely even spoke to anymore. 

You weren’t sure if he would even answer, the night you drove all the way to his house in the pouring rain. You stood there on his porch, pathetic, soaked from just the short walk from your car, when he opened the door and found you like that. 

“Jungwon,” you breathed. 

He hadn’t said anything, just pulled you inside. Checked the warmth of his shower until it was the perfect temperature and left a towel and a clean pair of clothes on the bathroom counter for you. Waited outside, on the edge of his bed until you emerged twenty minutes later. 

Clean, dry, but with eyes so red he knew you must have been crying. 

He didn’t ask you what happened. He just scooted back until he was sitting against his pillows, patted the space next to him in invitation. Pulled you tight to his chest as you sobbed, long heartbreaking sounds that tore from somewhere deep in you.

You eventually told him everything—your breakup, your heartbreak, the sudden loneliness it had left in its wake. 

Jungwon just held you through it, wiping your tears and soothing your cries as you laid against his chest. 

And you talked. For hours, about nothing, about everything. All the little things you hadn’t been able to tell him for months, all the parts of your life that you’d wished you could share with him.

As it turns out, you’d missed important updates from his life, too. For starters, he’d chosen a university. The same one you were currently attending. You were so excited that you’d be together again, but part of you hated it, the way you’d missed out on such important news.

That night, things shifted again. It didn’t matter what your relationship status was or what distance separated you—the two of you promised not to ever go so long without talking again. 

The following September, Jungwon officially started university at the same school as you, and it was the most excited you’d been in months. You loved showing him around all of your favorite places, pointing out the secret study spots you’d found in the library, introducing him to all of your friends and the coffee shop you loved just off campus. 

It felt natural, felt right to have him in your life again. Even when things got busy, when you were so bogged down with assignments and projects and internships, you did your best to make time for one another. 

You didn’t date again, and if he did, you never heard about it. When friends asked, you always gave the same excuse. You were too busy. You were focusing on yourself. School was more important to you than a relationship right now. 

But if you were honest with yourself, your relationship with Jay had left you with a unique set of scars. You were scared of falling in love again only to be met with rejection, of course, but you were also terrified of losing Jungwon. Of the way letting someone new into your life could mean pushing him away, despite what you’d promised each other that night in his bed. 

It’s why you haven’t mentioned Sunghoon to him yet. It’s not a secret, exactly, but it’s also not something you’re dying to share. 

Now that you’ve graduated, you can hardly believe you’re standing outside Jungwon’s apartment with a six pack of cheap beer dangling from your fingertips. But something about all of your recent failures has you desperate for a bit of release, and you’re sure he could use some relaxation after midterms, too. 

If anything, you’re hoping it will come as a nice surprise. 

You knock on the door to his apartment,  beer dangling loosely from your other hand. But when the door pulls open, it’s not Jungwon who greets you on the other side. 

“Hi,” Jake grins, leaning against the doorframe. “Long time no see.” Jungwon’s roommate of two years now, he glances down at the beer. “And you brought presents.”

“Not for you, Sim,” you shake your head. “Is Jungwon home?”

“Depends.” Jake grins. “Are you just gonna leave if he’s not?”

You sigh, do your best not to roll your eyes. You’ve been subject to Jake’s antics long enough to know not to take any of it to heart. A golden retriever in every sense of the word, flirting comes as natural to him as breathing. 

You’d be more worried if he suddenly started talking to you like a normal person. 

“Can you tell me when he’ll be back?” You really should have checked to make sure Jungwon was home before driving all the way, but you’d only decided to come last minute. Besides, you remember what midterms were like. You wanted it to be a surprise. 

“What’s the rush?” Jake asks. When you don’t bother to dignify that with a response, he pivots, “What are you up to these days?”

“Just working,” you shrug.

“Yeah?” he asks. “How’s post grad life treating you? Is the grass really greener after graduation?” Like Jungwon, he’s still a semester and a half away from it.

You laugh, but it sounds forced even to your own ears. “Something like that.”

“You’re still working at that flower shop over in your area, right? I was over there the other day, and I almost stopped by to say hi, but I couldn’t remember for sure. Is it—”

“I thought you said you were on your way out,” a voice interrupts from behind him. Jungwon’s. You’d know it anywhere. “Who are you talking to?”

That little shit. He lied to you. Or at least heavily implied it. 

Jake at least has the decency to look sheepish when he glances at you. Opening the door wider, he reveals your best friend. Dressed in a pair of grey sweats and an oversized long sleeve white t-shirt, his hair is still slightly damp. Recently showered, if you had to guess. 

“Surprise,” you grin weakly, holding up the pack of beer. 

“___,” he breathes your name, surprise flickering across his features. His gaze falls to your feet for a moment before dragging back up to your face. “What are you doing here?”

“Is it a bad time?” The beer falls back down to your side. You really should have checked with him first before driving all the way here. “Sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not a bad time at all. Come in.” Side-eyeing Jake, he looks almost surprised to see him, as if he forgot he was even there. Then, he confirms, “You’re leaving, right?”

“Yep,” Jake nods, a trace of amusement flashing through his eyes. “I won’t be back until late.” He glances between the two of you. “Like, really late, probably. Enjoy… whatever this is.” Turning to you, he adds, “And it was good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“Sure, Jake,” you agree. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” he smiles. “Have fun.” Pausing for a moment, he considers, “Not too much fun, though—”

“Goodbye, Jake,” Jungwon interrupts, something unreadable crossing his features. 

Jake takes the cue well enough. Stepping past the two of you, he leaves the apartment. The door closes behind him with a silent click. 

And then it’s just you and Jungwon. 

“You brought beer,” he reaches to take the drinks from you, passing them from your hand to his. “And yourself. What’s the occasion?”

“Midterms,” you explain. “I thought you could use a night off after all that studying. Besides, it’s been too long. The last time I saw you was when we got coffee, and that was already—”

“Two weeks ago,” he finishes for you. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to drink?” you ask, suddenly afraid you’ve placed your bets all wrong. Maybe midterms weren’t exhausting in the way that makes him want to drown his sorrows in cheap beer. Maybe they were just exhausting in the way that makes him want to crawl into bed. “I can come back a diff—”

Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s exactly what I need.” He smiles at you. It’s tired, but it’s genuine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

And that’s all it takes, all the reassurance you need to slip off your shoes and find a spot next to him on the living room sofa that’s seen better days. 

It’s quiet at first, the two of you taking long sips as you ask the standard questions. 

You ask how he thinks he did on midterms, and he says he’d rather talk about anything else. 

He asks about your job search, and a shadow crosses your features as you also request a change in topic. 

One bottle turns to two, and before long, your limbs are feeling heavier, your lips looser. 

Jungwon looks at you, already flushed from the alcohol. He parts his reddened lips like he wants to say something. Closes them again. 

Then, finally, “I heard something,” he says. 

“Mm?” you hum. There’s a pleasant haze in your mind. One that makes it difficult to give much of a response at all. 

A beat of silence passes. Another. You glance over at him, a question in your eyes, only to find his gaze already trained on your face. 

Eventually, he gets it out. “You’re going on dates again.”

The tension in your shoulders is immediate. You’re not sure if he heard it from Sophia or somewhere else along the grapevine, but you suppose it doesn’t matter much either way. You shrug, feigning nonchalance.  You have nothing to hide, you tell yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. “I went on one.”

Jungwon takes a long sip of beer, the foam settling heavy when he sets it back down on the table. “How was it?” he asks. His voice is infuriatingly neutral. You can’t get a read on him. 

“I don’t know,” you shake your head. “Fine.”

Jungwon’s palm splays against his knee, flexes. “Are you seeing him again?”

You feel a humorless laugh rising in your throat, one you barely manage to contain. “Probably not.”

You can feel his eyes boring into the side of your face when he asks, “Why?”

You sigh. This time, it’s you that takes a long sip of your drink. “I don’t know,” you shrug. Pulling your knees in towards your chest, you suddenly feel smaller than before. “It just wasn’t…” your words die as you try to find a way to explain the feeling you’d left the date with. Coming up blank, you decide instead on, “I don’t think he wants to see me again, anyway.”

You swear you feel a fraction of tension ease from the air. Still, Jungwon’s curiosity doesn’t seem to be sated. “Why not?” More to make you laugh than to actually guess at Sunghoon’s intentions, he asks, “Did you spill something on him?”

Wincing, you remember every one-word answer you gave. “I don’t think I spilled enough.”

Jungwon frowns, the turn of phrase not landing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you repeat. “Sometimes, I just…” You lean your head back, letting it loll against the back of the couch. “I just feel like boys don’t really like me, you know?”

If you were looking, you’d see the way Jungwon goes completely still. A moment of silence passes before he breaks it, voice lower, less airy than before. “What did you just say?”

Head against the couch, you let out a small sound, breathless, a little pathetic. “Don’t make me repeat it,” you beg.

But Jungwon isn’t quite ready to let it go. You see his silhouette in your periphery, turning to face you fully. Leaning in, his attention is on you and nowhere else. His voice has an edge to it that you aren’t quite sure what to do with when he asks, “What do you mean, ‘boys don’t like you?’”

All you can do is sigh again. “I’m just… I’m not really charming or cute or good at small talk and things like that. I always say something weird or put my foot in my mouth, and it’s like I can see them losing interest in real time.”

Jungwon blows a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. Glances at you. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Jungwon,” you deadpan, “he asked me what my hobbies are, and I told him, verbatim, things.”

“Oh.” He pauses for a minute. Then points out, “Well, to be fair, that’s a horrible question.”

You frown. “It’s a standard first date question.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees, “which is exactly why it’s horrible. No one wants to go on a first date and be asked all of the standard first date questions.” 

You know that he’s only trying to comfort you, but something about him twisting the narrative so far in your favor just makes you want to sigh. You’re grateful for his defense, but it also feels a bit misplaced.

“How would you even know?” You try not to sound too mean, but the question comes out flat. “I bet you go on dates with those dimples and that…” you trail off, waving your hands noncommittally in his general direction. 

Jungwon’s brows furrow. “You just gestured to all of me.”

“Exactly,” you nod. “You have that whole boy-next-door, easy going charm thing about you.” It’s true, and right now, you can’t help but think that it’s awfully unfair. “I bet you could ask whatever stupid standard first date questions you want and girls would still be falling at your feet.”

At face value, it’s a compliment. But there’s something about your tone, the trace remnants of sarcasm, of bitterness, that make him think otherwise.

“I’m not quite sure how to take that,” Jungwon finally tells you.

You sigh. You didn’t come here to project your insecurities on him. There might be layers of truth to it, but this isn’t his fault. You’re not being fair, and you know it. 

“All I mean is that boys like you don’t have to try very hard. I feel like it all just comes so naturally to you. I wish I was like that, too. That’s all I’m saying.”

And Jungwon could protest, could launch into some speech about how you’ll find your person eventually, about how there’s someone out there for everyone.

But he knows you, is well-acquainted with that contemplative, overly self-critical look on your face. Can read all of your frustration and insecurity in the way you bite at your bottom lip. 

You’re not looking for a lecture or false hope and certainly not empty words.

You came here with a case of beer and the intention to surprise him, to congratulate him for work well done. 

He was the one that brought up the date, anyway. He knows that you’re not looking for advice. You’re looking for a friend.

So Jungwon waits for a moment before he says anything at all. 

Then, he picks up your abandoned beer off the coffee table in front of you and holds it up to you. “C’mon,” he encourages gently, “join me.” He takes a sip of his own for good measure. “It isn’t going to drink itself.”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I already feel kind of—”

“I think I bombed econ,” he offers. You can’t tell if it’s true or not, but that’s not the point. He needs you out of your head. “Don’t make me drown my sorrows alone.”

You can’t help but think that for all the fuss he used to put up about you being older, he certainly doesn’t mind appealing to it when it’s to his advantage. 

But even lukewarm beer looks tempting when it’s him that’s offering it to you. And you’ve never been good at saying no, at least not to Jungwon. 

He knows it, too. Jungwon isn’t surprised when you accept the bottle from his hands with nothing more than a halfhearted grumble under your breath. 

There’s no trace of shock in his eyes when you bring it straight to your lips despite your earlier protests. 

He just grins before leaning back against his side of the couch, smile still stretching across his lips as he brings his own bottle up to join you.

…..

Thursday afternoons are your favorite time in the flower shop. Run by a kind woman in her late sixties, she takes advantage of the day to attend her weekly Zumba class at the senior center, which means you have the shop all to yourself, save for the occasional customer. 

Usually, you’d savor the stillness. Use it to catch up on inventory or fulfill the handful or edible arrangement requests for tomorrow.

But today, the silence is making you jittery. Mostly because your mind won’t give you a moment of peace no matter how much you beg it too.

Despite the prediction you gave Jungwon three days ago in his apartment, Sunghoon did reach out to you again.

The message still sits at the top of your text threads like a curse.

I enjoyed our time together, he said. Succinct, straightforward, and all things considered, surprising. Are you free this weekend? I’d love to see you again.

And it’s flattering, so much so that you nearly find yourself agreeing without taking so much as a moment to think about it.

Sophia will be thrilled, you’re sure. And you won’t have to burden Jungwon again with tipsy confessions of your own insecurities. 

But alone in the flower shop, another thought starts to creep in, just as your fingers hover above the keyboard. A feeling.

The same one you left from your last date with. That strange, hollow emptiness that had you spiraling for days, convinced there must be something deeply, fundamentally off about you. 

Again, you start to wonder why you can’t just do it. Can’t enjoy a date and a free meal and the pleasant company of a handsome stranger. Why all of your answers always come out stilted, cagey, so terribly awkward. 

Why you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, convinced that any scraps of attention that come your way must be part of some elaborate prank that the universe is playing on you. 

Why even a barely-there, trace amount of vulnerability feels like nails on a chalkboard. Why you haven’t been able to form a real, meaningful connection with anyone since Jay. A relationship that ended nearly four years ago. It’s enough to make you feel a little pathetic.

Logically, you know that this is how it goes. You can’t form connections or welcome new things into your life without a leap of faith.

But the potential fallout is terrifying. The thought of trying, really trying, and still being found lacking is enough to sober even the most romantic of your fantasies. 

Something about the status quo, no matter how boring or tiresome or monotonous, feels safe. Like a cage you’ve settled into and made comfortable. 

Your fingers hesitate, then fall away completely. Locking the screen of your phone, you tuck it back into your pocket with a sigh.

Busying yourself with the arrangement orders, you do your best to push Sunghoon and his unanswered invitation from your mind. 

For a while at least, you’re successful. The afternoon passes slowly.

A woman in her thirties comes, looking for a bouquet for her sister who just had a baby. 

A man in his fifties wants to send flowers to his daughter’s office to wish her a happy birthday.

A couple comes in, hands intertwined, asking if your shop would be able to accommodate enough flowers for their wedding to be held at the end of the month. 

You greet them, you smile, you answer their questions with patience. 

And all the while, you leave Sunghoon’s question hanging.

As your shift draws to an end, late afternoon sunlight spilling through the windows, your phone buzzes in your pocket once more. 

Half expecting to see a string of curses from Sunghoon, angry you ignored him, convinced you’ve wronged him, you're surprised when it’s Jungwon’s name that lights up your screen instead. 

His short string of messages reads,

It was nice to see you again

Missed my favorite girl

Movie night this weekend at mine? Popcorn on me

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you can hardly stifle the smile that threatens to overtake your entire face. 

Unlike Sunghoon’s, Jungwon’s message doesn’t fill you with dread, doesn’t leave you with a sudden flurry of doubts and questions clouding your mind.

And, unlike his, it’s easy to say yes to.

You wait only a fraction of a second before sending your reply.

I’ll be there

…..

The left side cushion of Jungwon’s living room couch is starting to feel familiar at this point. It’s been less than a week since you were last here, and it already feels routine sinking down into it. 

When Jake steps out from his room minutes after you settle in, he doesn’t comment on his roommate’s company. Just arches a brow. 

“You two drinking again?” he asks. 

Apparently, he gave Jungwon shit for forgetting to clean up one of the bottles after last time. Ironic, considering it’s Jake’s dinner dishes that are gathering dust in the sink. 

“No,” Jungwon shakes his head. Remote in hand, he flicks through streaming service options until he lands on the one he’s looking for. “Just watching a movie.”

Jake pauses, eyes flickering towards the screen. “Which one?”

“Not sure.” Jungwon shrugs. “___ chose it.”

You turn over your shoulder, telling him the title. It’s some rom com that’s been terrorizing your twitter feed for weeks now. And then you offer, “You can join us if you want.”

You’re not sure if there’s enough space on the couch for the three of you, but you are the one crashing into their space. You’ll make it work if you have to. 

“That’s alright.” Jake shakes his head. “I’m heading out.”

“Alright,” Jungwon waves him off without so much as a second glance. 

“See you later,” you offer, still turned around. 

Jake grins, looking at you before he makes his way to the door. “Enjoy your movie. And nice to see you again so soon, ___. I was worried you’d make me wait again.”

Next to you, Jungwon’s jaw clenches. He mutters something under his breath about making popcorn before standing up from his seat on the couch. 

Jake leaves before he can rile Jungwon up any further, and the smell of popcorn begins to fill the room just as the opening credits begin to roll. An overzealous pop song plays in the background, one you recognize from the playlist your boss makes you put on shuffle, insisting the corny, upbeat lyrics will convince people to buy more flowers. 

Jungwon comes back to the couch, sets the popcorn bowl on the table in front of you. He adjusts, moving closer. His knee brushes against yours. Both of you pretend not to notice. Intimacy and closeness is nothing new between the two of you. Hell, you grew up practically attached at the hip, sleeping in the same bed until you were in middle school. 

But there was always practicality to it, a purpose. You held hands at the amusement park because you didn’t want to lose each other in the crowd. You let him put his head in your lap when you had a picnic in the park because the only other pillow available was the ant-filled grass. 

This feels different. Intentional. Especially since there’s still plenty of space to his left. 

You lean forward, reaching for the popcorn. The fabric of your pants rustles against his. Settling back into your seat, Jungwon takes his turn to reach forward. But instead of grabbing a fistful, he takes the whole bowl, bringing it to his lap. 

“Here,” he nudges you. “It’s closer this way.”

You nod. Right. Closer. 

In front of you, the movie begins to unfold. Saturated color grading, wardrobe choices that already look slightly dated despite the recent release date, and a female lead that first impressions paint as adorably quirky, it has all the makings of a brainless plot. The perfect way to waste a Friday night. 

And Jungwon, who usually insists on holding his tongue until after the credits have rolled, leans a little closer to you just past the twenty-minute mark. Unnecessary, given how close the two of you are already sitting. His arm, bare from the short-sleeve shirt he wears, brushes against yours. 

And his lips nearly touch the shell of your ear when he whispers, “This is ridiculous.”

You frown. “What is?”

“The premise,” he hums. “I mean, why would they pretend to date each other? It doesn’t make sense. There are plenty of other things he could do to get back at his ex.”

You roll your eyes. Leave it to him to analyze the storyline like it was designed for anything other than mindless entertainment. “It’s the oldest cliche in the book,” you explain. “It’s for the plot.”

“It’s obvious,” he shakes his head. “They’re going to fall in love with each other.”

“Of course they are,” you agree. “But not every movie has to have a million twists and turns. Sometimes it’s just nice to know how things will end and enjoy seeing how they get there.”

“You like that?” he asks, voice low. “When things fall into place exactly the way you expect them to?”

“Sometimes,” you breathe. “It’s nice to not always have to guess.”

“Would you ever do that?”

Your eyebrows raise. “Fake date someone?”

Jungwon nods. 

“No,” you scoff. “I can barely handle a real date, remember?”

You’re not sure what it is, but something in your answer must satisfy his curiosity, at least for now. Next to you, Jungwon is quiet once again. In front of you, the characters on screen continue to tiptoe around each other, dancing around the obvious. 

The onscreen tension builds and builds and builds, all the way until it breaks. With a heated confession in the rain and the one aspect of a rom com you forgot to account for before choosing your movie for the evening. 

You’re a grown woman. You have the degree and the age on your driver’s license to prove it. But the flush on your cheeks is undeniable as the two characters on screen begin to kiss. 

And kiss they do. Jesus christ, you think, just how much of the budget was allotted to close up shots of their mouths? 

As the scene begins to heat, so does the temperature of your skin. You’re half afraid Jungwon will feel it, scalding him through the layers of fabric between your legs that still touch. Part of you wants to screw your eyes shut, to reach for the remote and click fast forward just to end the agony, but you’re pretty sure that would be even more humiliating. 

Instead, you keep your eyes glued to the screen. Watch unmoving, trying to appear unaffected, as the male lead tangles his fingers through her hair, tugging slightly as she stifles a moan against his lips. It’s so raw, so intimate, that you’re tempted to pull out your phone and confirm the PG-13 rating you swear it had. 

It’s involuntary, the way you squirm against the couch cushions. The movement is no help. All it does is make you brush further against the one person you’re suddenly desperately trying to ignore. 

The man on screen brushes his fingers under the hemline of her shirt, drags the fitted material upwards. 

Without even really meaning to, you dare a glance at Jungwon. 

And find him already looking at you. Staring at you, lips parted, eyes locked on the flush spreading over your cheekbones.

Quickly, your eyes drop to your lap, but the image stays burned behind your eyelids. You don’t dare to look at him again, not even once the scene has ended, when the plot becomes ridiculous again instead of heated. 

Even once the ending credits start to roll, you keep your eyes trained on the screen, as if the list of assistant directors is something you find fascinating. But Jungwon has other plans. 

He shifts against you, knee nudging yours. You hear his exhale, heavier than before. 

A moment passes. Another. 

Then, he finally tells you, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Immediately your mind starts to swim. Thinking about what? The unbelievability of the premise? The questionable casting choices? Or, worst of all, the kiss?

Out loud, you do your best to school your question into something neutral. “Thinking about what?”

“What you said,” he tells you. It soothes exactly none of your frayed nerves.

What have you said? You suddenly can’t remember. You search for a list of recent statements you’ve made and come up completely blank. 

It feels like a conversation that’s going nowhere when you ask, “What did I say?”

Jungwon doesn’t spare a moment. “That you think boys don’t like you.”

Oh. Oh. Nearly a week ago now, your tipsy, self-berating rambling must have stuck with him. Well, that’s fine, you suppose. That’s something you can explain away now. Sober, even if your mind is still spinning a bit. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you try to explain. “I was drunk and my words weren’t coming out right. I just meant that it was frustrating going on a date and leaving feeling like something was wrong with me, you know?”

Only after he’s quiet for a full thirty seconds do you dare a glance at him. Jungwon’s brow is furrowed, his lips pulled tight in contemplation. He parts his lips like he wants to say something, closes them again as if he’s thought better of it.  

When he finally finds a statement to commit to, he says, “Maybe you’re going on dates with the wrong people.”

“Oh, definitely,” you agree. “But that’s the hard part, isn’t it?” In retrospect, it’s a big part of why you were so hesitant to accept Sophia’s offer in the first place, why she had to ask you, to insist, four times. “I feel like I have to go on so many terrible dates that make me feel like shit just to maybe eventually find someone I want to spend more time with. It’s not like I think there’s actually anything wrong with me, but I do feel like I have a harder time than other people. You know, making friends, going on dates, finding people I actually want to be around of my own volition.”

After already feeling so rejected from your job search, your headspace has been even more fragile. Dating doesn’t feel like stress relief for you. It feels like a reminder of all the things you wish were different about yourself. 

Jungwon’s gentle when he shakes his head. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping your circle small.”

“No,” you agree, “but sometimes it feels like it isn’t really my choice. Like, even if I wanted to have more friends or go on more dates, it wouldn't pan out the way I want it to. Sometimes it’s just easier to keep to myself, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t times I wish I could be more outgoing.”

After another momentary lapse, another beat of silence, he asks, “What about me?”

A flicker of surprise crosses your features. “What about you?”

“You have an easy time talking to me,” Jungwon points out. “And I feel the same about you. We’ve been hanging out since we were kids, and I’ve never felt uncomfortable with you.”

“Really?” Your brow arches. “Even when I forced you to go down that waterslide in third grade?”

Even his mom had been surprised. He’d been terrified of that thing, apparently kicking and screaming against anyone else that tried to drag him down it. But when you, in all of your fourth-grade glory, insisted that he joined you, he just tucked his hand in yours, let you lead him all the way up the ladder even as his legs shook beneath him.

Jungwon smiles at the memory, a soft thing. But his eyes are still serious, his gaze still weighted. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “but that’s different.”

“How so?”

“Because…” you trail off, searching for an explanation. “Because you’re Jungwon.”

“Yeah.” The heat in his eyes doesn’t settle. “And?”

“And I’ve never had to think about it,” you shrug. “We became friends before I was even fully self-aware. You’ve always just been Jungwon.”

He’s quiet for a moment, considering. And then, “Can I ask you something?”

“I feel like you’re going to anyway.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, to distract from that strange bit of tension that still simmers. 

Jungwon’s eyes don’t lose their edge. “Why did you start going on dates again?”

“What do you mean?” His question surprises you. “I just graduated from university. I’m young and unattached and all that. Isn’t this the time that everyone’s going on dates?”

“I suppose,” he concedes, “But I feel like that’s why you’re so frustrated.”

You frown, and he clarifies, “You’re going on dates because you feel like you should. Not because you want to.” 

He pauses for a moment, gauging your reaction. Deciding your silence is permission enough, he presses on, “You’re not even sure what you want out of them or what an ideal relationship looks like for you right now. You’re just going and hoping something will stick, like throwing darts with a blindfold. Then you get upset with yourself when it doesn’t live up to your fantasy, even though you haven’t decided what your fantasy even is yet. I mean, why did you even meet Sunghoon? Because you really wanted to, or because you wanted to get Sophia off of your back about it?”

You feel exposed all of a sudden. Seen right down to your bones in a way you were prepared for. “I…” There’s a maturity to his question that you weren’t expecting, an edge you can’t quite decipher. You turn the question back to him instead of answering. “Since when did you get so observant?”

“I’ve always noticed you.”

“Jungwon…”

“So I can help you figure this out, too,” he insists. “Really,” he adds when you still look unsure. “Who knows you better than me?”

You can’t quite meet his gaze, and it’s all the confirmation he needs. 

“Exactly,” Jungwon nods. “So I’ll ask you again, why did you agree to go on a date with Sunghoon?”

It would be easy to deflect, to blame Sophia’s insistence. Or to double down on your earlier statement, that this is the time in your life to try new things, to meet new people. That it felt natural to say yes. 

But when you really think about it, the cold, honest truth is just that—

“I think I was just tired of hearing no all the time.”

Jungwon’s brow furrows. “Who’s telling you no?”

You sigh, try to let out an airy laugh that comes out choked, a little pathetic. “Only every hiring manager in the country, apparently. You know, I’ve been sending out job applications like crazy since graduation, but it's been six months now and the only thing I have to show for it is a stack of rejection letters cluttering my inbox.”

A flicker of understanding passes through his gaze. “So you’re compensating, then.”

You glare. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head. With the same tone you’ve heard him use to soothe a skittish kitten, he adds, “That must have been so frustrating. Putting in all that effort and not getting the result you wanted.” He knee brushes yours as he leans in closer, something unbearably earnest in his gaze. “You’ve been working too hard.”

“I haven’t been working hard enough,” you argue. “If I had, then something would have panned out at this point. I just need to—”

“There you go again,” he interrupts, shaking his head gently. “Assuming that it’s all your fault. Maybe the hiring manager was just an idiot, or you caught them on a bad day.”

“Yeah.” Your words drip with self-effacing sarcasm. “I’d believe that if it were one or two. But I don’t think over a hundred of them just happened to wake up on the wrong side of the bed the day they reviewed my application.”

It comes out sharper than you mean for it to. Settles into the air a bit uncomfortably. 

Jungwon takes a moment to respond. When he does, he just sighs your name. 

“I know,” you scramble for something a little lighter, “like, the economy is shit and all, and one day I’ll look back at this and laugh or whatever. But it just sucks right now, you know? I’m so sick of it. I really just wanted to hear someone say—”

“Yes,” Jungwon finishes for you. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Exactly.” 

“Okay,” he nods, resolve tightening as if he’s made his mind up about something. “Then ask me.”

“What?”

Jungwon doubles down. “You can ask me,” he insists again, that same damn earnestness in his eyes, “anything you want me to do.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “I’ll say yes. I promise.”

Against your will, you feel warmth starting to rise on your cheeks again. There’s something weighted in his promise, something desperate that simmers just behind it. Something that you have absolutely no idea what to do with. 

Suddenly desperate for a reprieve, you do your best to break the tension. “That seems like a terrible idea.” You curse the strange breathlessness in your voice. Why are you like this? It’s just Jungwon. “What if I ask you to jump off a bridge?”

Jungwon just grins. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I know I’m safe. You’d miss me too much.”

“You know,” you start, “for someone who thinks fake dating is ridiculous, this feels even more absurd.”

Jungwon doesn’t budge. “Just try it,” he encourages. “Ask me something.”

You sigh. “Jungwon…”

“C’mon.” He’s relentless. “Just once.”

“Fine.” You glance towards the bowl still sitting in his lap. “Hand me the popcorn.”

Picking it up, he ignores your outstretched hands in favor of learning forward, all the way until he settles it in your lap. His fingers remain against the edges of the bowl until he’s sure the balance is steady. Only then does he lean back into his own space. 

“Easy.” He grins. Then his brow furrows, considering. “Are you hungry?” he asks. “I could make you some real food, if—”

“No,” you shake your head. Picking up a single piece of popcorn, you add, “Just wanted to do this.” 

Throwing it square at his face, it bounces off of his nose harmlessly before falling to the carpet below. Jungwon’s nose scrunches in a knee-jerk reaction, eyes screwing shut before he opens them again. 

“Maybe I was wrong,” his eyes are heavy-lidded, voice lower than you expect. “You are going to use it for evil.” 

“Of course.” You reach for another kernel. “So maybe you should reconsider—”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything, doesn’t give you a moment to prepare for the way he wraps his fingers around your raised wrist, locking it into place before you can toss another piece of popcorn in his direction. 

His grip is warm against your skin. Tight, something you’re not sure you’d be able to break out of even if you tried. 

Still, you attempt to fling the popcorn at him. With the restricted motion of your wrist, it doesn’t make it far. It flies through the air for only a split second before falling uselessly down to your own lap, just in front of the bowl it came from. 

“Nice try,” Jungwon breathes, your wrist still encased in his grip. 

Your eyes narrow. “I do my best.”

“I’m sure you do,” he allows, “but you’re trapped now.”

There’s something strange in his gaze. Something heavy, weighted that you can’t quite place. Something that feels entirely too real. 

You test it, the strength of his grip on you. True to his word, your wrist hardly makes it an inch, his fingers a vice around them. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you breathe, voice airier than you mean for it to be.

“Maybe,” he agrees. A breath passes between you. Another. His eyes are still locked on yours, searching, like he’s desperate to find something. Another moment passes, and he releases his grip. Your wrist falls slowly back to your lap. “But I meant it.”

“I know you did.” You can’t quite make eye contact, but his sincerity is evident even as you place your gaze elsewhere. “Thank you.”

“Seriously,” he insists. “My schedule is a lot lighter now that midterms are done. If you ever want to do something or go somewhere or you just wanna crash for a night on my couch, you’re more than welcome to.”

“Did you get Jake’s approval for that?” You arch an eyebrow. 

Jungwon’s voice is tighter than before, just slightly. “Jake will be fine." And then, still strained but a bit softer, “If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know. Don’t make me wait two weeks to see you.”

Here, in the quiet of his living room, movie forgotten on the TV, it’s easy to agree to. 

“Okay,” you whisper, regular speech suddenly feeling too loud, too abrasive. And then again, because you really do mean it, “Thank you, Jungwon.”

“Of course,” he insists, voice equally low. 

For a moment, the two of you sit like that, legs brushing, you avoiding the eye contact he tries to maintain. 

Then, Jungwon sighs, faces the TV again as he reaches for the remote. “Should we watch something else?” he asks. 

You nod. “Something scary this time.” 

Jungwon arches a brow. “You hate horror movies.”

Shrugging, you insist. “I’m in the mood for one now.” 

He still doesn’t look like he quite believes you, but he doesn’t argue any further as he scrolls down, searching for the genre. 

At his side, you’re quiet. It’s true. You do hate horror. But you’d take zombies and ghosts and jumpscares any day over the off chance of having to sit through another kissing scene tonight. 

This time, Jungwon picks the movie. Learning back against the cushions, he reaches for a handful of popcorn. 

The movie hasn’t started yet. There’s nothing on the screen to be scared of, but your heart thumps traitorously against your ribcage anyway.

…..

Two days later, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop. This time, though, it’s not Jungwon who sits across from you.

“So,” Sophia starts, and you already recognize that tone. Uh-oh, you think. “Sunghoon asked about you.”

“Why?” you ask, memories of your rather terrible date coming back unbidden. “To see if I’ve checked myself into an insane asylum yet?”

“No,” she glares. “Just to see how you’re doing.” She takes a sip of her drink, eyeing you over the rim. “Why didn’t you go on another date? He told me he texted you.”

That explains it then, you think. Him reaching out to you probably didn’t come from genuine interest. Maybe spending time with you felt like nothing more than a favor to his coworker. Maybe he was secretly relieved when you’d ignored his message. Maybe he only brought it up to Sophia to be polite. 

Your eyes narrow. “Why are you so involved, anyway? You know, this is exactly why they say you shouldn’t shit where you eat.”

“I’m not dating him,” she points out. “And you two don’t work together.” It’s true. You’d applied for an open position a couple months back, actually. And, of course, had been promptly rejected. “That doesn’t apply.”

“Close enough,” you mutter. 

“Why are you so against it?” she asks. “Did he suck or something?” Considering it, she’s quick to apologize. “Sorry. He always seemed so nice at work. A little shy, like I told you, but when he mentioned he was single, you were the first person I thought of. Did he say something weird to you or try to make you split the bill—”

“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing like that. He was perfectly nice. And polite.”

Her confusion returns. “So what gives? I didn’t expect the two of you to get married, but I thought you’d at least last a little longer than one date. Besides,” she leans in, voice lower but still not nearly quiet enough for what she’s about to ask you, “aren’t you practically shriveled up at this point? Did you take a vow of celibacy without telling me? When’s the last time you even had se—”

Eyes widening in panic, you interrupt her with an entirely too loud, too bright, “Hi, Jungwon!”

Frowning, Sophia turns back to look over her shoulder. Because there he is, the man in question. A surprising coincidence, perhaps, if you weren’t the one that introduced both of your friends to this cafe. 

“Hey,” he grins, glancing between the both of you with his takeout cup in hand. “I thought that was you I saw over here.” Turning to your friend, he nods, “Hi, Sophia.”

“Jungwon,” she returns. Her gaze follows his, all the way from his eyes to yours. Settling back into her seat, she gestures towards the empty chair at your table. “Grab a seat,” she offers. “Join us.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” you glance at him apologetically. “I’m sure Jungwon has other—”

But he slides down into the chair without a hint of protest, your words dying on your lips. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” he says. “What were you two talking about?”

You force a smile that looks anything but easy. “Nothing,” you insist, just as Sophia explains, 

“____’s desperate need to get laid.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flashing daggers at Sophia with your eyes as you pointedly avoid looking to where Jungwon sits on your right. “I did not say that.”

“So what?” she asks, either oblivious to your suffering or relishing in it. “You’re planning to be a nun forever?”

“I’m busy,” you deflect. “I have other priorities right now.”

“Busy people have sex,” she argues. “All that stress isn’t good for you. Like I said, you’ll shrivel up and—”

“Can we talk about literally anything else?” She has to know how embarrassed you are from the increasingly red shade of your face, how horrified you are that Jungwon can hear everything she’s saying. There aren’t many secrets left between the two of you, but the gory details of your nonexistent sex life isn’t something you’re exactly dying for him to be privy to. 

Sophia leans back, some of the urgency of her insistence fading. Still, she’s not quite done. “I’m just confused,” she explains. “I mean, Sunghoon was kind and a gentleman and more than willing, if the way he keeps hounding me about you is anything to go by. I just don’t get it.”

Slowly, you brave a glance at Jungwon, who’s kept quiet this whole time. Maybe, at least, he shares some of your embarrassment, avoiding your gaze just as pointedly as you avoided his. 

But when you turn towards him hesitantly, Jungwon is already looking at you. There’s nothing shy or avoidant as his eyes rake over you. And there’s no sign of embarrassment, no telltale flush, no fidgety shifting. 

Jungwon’s just looking at you. With a cool, steady stare. Like he’s assessing you, clicking puzzle pieces into place. 

When he finally breaks eye contact, it’s to look at Sophia. “Leave her alone,” he defends. His tone is light, teasing. But there’s an edge there. Something that doesn’t leave space for an argument. “She’ll find someone when she’s ready. Park Sunghoon isn’t the end all be all of men.”

“No,” Sophia agrees, “but surely he’s better than your left hand and the vib—”

“Oh my god,” you’re begging this time. “Stop.”

“What about you?” Jungwon asks, and both of you turn to him in surprise. When your eyes land on him, he’s looking at Sophia, not at you. “How’s your love life looking these days?”

“Love life…” She trails off, shrugging. “Nothing to report. But I haven’t joined your girl here,” she nods towards you, “at the convent yet. In that regard,” she grins. “I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Good for you,” Jungwon nods. “And the job is still going well?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “It’s not confirmed yet, but there’s a rumor that I might be in talks for a promotion next quarter. I’m…”

Her words trail off as you zone out, some of the adrenaline fading, the tension draining from your shoulders. 

Not for the first time, you feel extremely grateful for Jungwon. It’s subtle, but it’s enough. And to you, it’s obvious. The way he maneuvered the conversation away from you. You’re sure that your discomfort wasn’t difficult to pick up on, but the way he handled it makes you appreciate him that much more. 

Morbidly, you wonder what he thinks of your glaring lack of a sex life. Ever since Jay, you’ve kept the details of your relationships, or rather, lack thereof, close to the chest where he’s concerned. And even when you were with Jay, intimacy was never a topic you breached with Jungwon. 

The thought has a flush starting anew on your cheekbones. You do your best to dismiss it. 

Next to you, Jungwon keeps his eyes on Sophia, nodding at the appropriate times, commenting in a way that proves he’s listening. 

But beneath the table, the warmth on his palm finds your knee. Without breaking conversation or giving even the slightest outward hint that his mind is anywhere besides your friend’s story about her boss’ most recent rampage, he squeezes. 

Once, gently. Just to let you know that he’s there. 

You fidget, and he does it again. This time, he can’t quite help the grin that spreads across his lips. 

…..

Despite everything, you can’t shake the feeling of Jungwon’s hand on your knee beneath the table. Days pass, and in quiet moments, if you give your brain enough leeway, it always wanders back there. 

To his easy, subtle defense of you. To the way it seemed so natural for him to soothe you silently with his touch. 

To the way he looked at you, considering, evaluative, while Sophia laid out the gory details of your fruitless sex life on the table. 

And maybe she was right to question you so thoroughly. Maybe it really has been too long, because that’s the only feasible explanation for the thoughts you’re having now. 

It’s only natural, you suppose. Jungwon has been a constant in your life, a steady presence, for nearly as long as your memory extends. He’s been there through it all, your worst moments, your best memories. He’s seen all of it, knows you like the back of his hand, and he’s stuck around for it all. 

For someone with an intense fear of rejection, it means more than you can say. You can’t think of anyone in this world that you trust more than him. 

And intimacy… Intimacy is just an extension of that, you suppose. Being close with someone in that way is the ultimate act of trust. 

Maybe that’s why things felt so stilted, so disjointed with Sunghoon. You had nothing against him, but you also didn’t know him at all. Trust is something that takes time, effort. How could you let your guard down with someone you had just met?

It’s just nerves, you’re sure. You’ve been out of practice since Jay, and with each passing day, that relationship just feels further and further away. A distant memory that you can’t recall well enough to guide you now. 

Maybe if there was someone you really trusted, someone that you could just practice with, then—

No. You shake your head, dropping the thought as quick as it comes. It’s insane. It’s the exact opposite of everything your relationship with Jungwon has been for the last eighteen years of your life. 

Still, when a message from him lights up your phone screen a handful of hours later, it takes you a full minute and a string of deep breaths to convince yourself to open it. 

And when you reread the text, an invitation to drive out to a lesser known lookout where the two of you used to go to watch the sunset in high school, you agree easily. If your heart is beating a little too fast in your chest, well, you suppose no one ever has to know about it. 

Years ago, you were the one that discovered the outlook. After a particularly awful day, due mostly to your terrible junior year biology teacher, you’d put your newly acquired driver’s license to good use. You had no destination in mind. You were still new to driving and liked the way that it felt, liked the way it seemed like you could outrun any problem if you just drove far enough. 

A series of wrong turns led you straight to a forested area not too far from the highway. Jutting high out over a nearby valley, the scene you found sprawled out in front of you was gorgeous.

It was early spring, then. Flowers were just beginning to bloom, glowing in the late afternoon sun. You shifted the car into park, shutting off the engine. And then you sat, for hours, just looking out at all of it. 

As the sun faded on the horizon, so did the most pressing of your worries. Looking around you, biology class had begun to feel a lifetime ago. 

You realized that day that you found somewhere special, somewhere that you wouldn’t be willing to show to just anyone. Even then, there was only one person you thought you’d ever share the view with, that you’d ever let into your private little sanctuary. 

So, one month later, when Jungwon came to your house after school with a crease between his eyebrows that usual methods couldn’t seem to soothe, you offered him the passenger seat of your car and the view you’d been keeping all to yourself. 

That day, it became his too. And a tradition of sorts began to form. Whenever either of you was stressed or upset or just needed to get away from it all, you had a shared place to escape to. Somewhere that felt out of reach from everyone else. Somewhere for just the two of you. 

You haven’t been back there with Jungwon for the better part of a year. Part of you is a bit worried as you see his car pull up from your apartment window—this time, he’ll be the one driving—that something happened. 

After all, the two of you usually saved the outlook for difficult times. 

But as you slide into Jungwon’s passenger seat, the only thing he greets you with is an easy smile. 

“Good day?” he asks, handing you his phone so you can pick the playlist for the drive. 

“Fine,” you nod, settling for an R&B album you know you both like. “What about you?” you ask, still wanting to dissuade your earlier concerns. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods, craning his neck as he checks for cross-traffic before pulling onto the main street. “I just wanted to see you. Thought it might be nice to go somewhere quiet. And it’s a beautiful day.” He looks towards the cloudless sky. “I thought the sunset would be nice.”

The drive goes quickly as you pass familiar streets, reminiscing as memories coming back at every turn. 

“Oh my god,” you say as one comes back suddenly. “Remember that time we drove out here because James rejected me at junior prom?”

Jungwon frowns. “James was an idiot.”

It rings true in hindsight. “Yeah, but I was devastated. I cried so hard I got snot on my dress.” It’s easy to laugh at now, even if the sting was unbearable in the moment. “No wonder he said no.”

“He said no because he was a dumbass,” Jungwon argues. “Besides, it can’t be worse than the time we came here because I didn’t make the taekwondo competition team.”

Something about the memory, even now, makes your heart clench a little. “That was just sad,” you tell him softly. “You were so disappointed.”

“I got over it,” he shrugs. “The dartboard you made of my coach’s face helped.”

“Oh my god,” your eyes widen. “I forgot about that.”

Jungwon smiles like it’s a fond memory. “You were so violent.”

You shake your head. “Only for you. I don’t think I’d ever wanted to hit someone more.”

Trading memories like secrets, the two of you eventually reach the right exit. Pulling off the highway, the air around you immediately feels more still. Calmer. 

And when Jungwon pulls right up to the overlook, shifting his car into park and shutting off the ignition, things feel just like you left them. 

The sun is getting close to the horizon now. The valley that stretches out beneath you as far as the eye can see glows in the last rays of daylight. 

Your gaze stretches out too, welcoming that sense of familiarity. “It looks the same,” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees. “It does.”

Returning here now makes times feel sharper, more obvious. 

“We’ve been coming here for what, six years now?” You shake your head. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. I can’t believe I graduated. Like, I’m just done with university now. I still remember when it felt so far away.”

“Yeah.” Jungwon nods, eyes on the horizon. “Me too.” 

For a moment, the space between you is silent, the air filled with nothing but the sound of your quiet breaths. 

You weren’t the one who asked him here, but if there was ever a place to admit the worries in your mind, you suppose it would be now. 

Quietly, you say, “Can I ask you something?”

Jungwon turns to you, attuned to the serious tone of your voice. “Of course.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me,” you promise. “I know we don’t really talk about this kind of stuff usually, and—”

“___,” he interrupts, “Ask me.”

You take a breath. You can feel his gaze on you, but you can’t quite look him in the eye when you ask, “Do you think Sophia was right?”

“About what?” His shoulders stiffen. “Sunghoon?”

“No,” you shake your head, and the tension loosens, but only slightly. “About me.”

“What about you?” he breathes.

“That I…” you trail off, searching for the right words. “That it’s been too long since I was with someone.” 

Even now, you can’t bring yourself to say it. To call a spade a spade. Jungwon reads between the lines easily enough. 

He shakes his head. “It’s your choice to make. Yours and no one else’s, for whatever reasons you want. Don’t let Sophia make you feel bad just because her choice is different from yours.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I think she’s right. That the longer I wait, the more difficult I’m making things for myself, like I’m just making the hurdle in my mind bigger and bigger. I mean, the last time I was with someone, you know, like that, was with Jay, and that was already—”

Jungwon’s inhale is sharp. “It was?” 

“See?” you frown, mistaking his surprise for confirmation of your fears. “It’s been so long. Too long. Even you think so.”

“I don’t—” he tries, shaking his head. Now Jungwon’s the one scrambling for words. “I don’t think it’s been too long. I was just surprised,” he says. “That’s all.”

“Yeah, surprised because of how long it’s been.” You laugh humorlessly. “Now even you think I’m a nun.”

“I don’t think that,” he shakes his head. “Like I said, it’s your choice.” 

“Is it though?” you ask. “The more time passes, the more I start to think that the cards just aren’t stacked in my favor.”

Jungwon frowns. “What do you mean?”

Your palms splay against your lap. The last rays of sun stretch over the valley, and your words are spilling out before you can stop them. “Maybe Sunghoon only acted interested because of Sophia. Maybe every time anyone has expressed interest, it hasn’t been genuine.” You sigh. “It’s like, logically I know that’s just the insecurity talking, but the more time passes, the harder those thoughts are to shake.”

For a moment, Jungwon is quiet. When he speaks again, his voice is low, serious. Pleading for your understanding. “___,” he says, “you’re beautiful. Truly. Any man would be lucky for even the smallest piece of your time or attention. I know that it’s hard sometimes, and that those voices and doubts can feel so loud, but I really wish you could see yourself the way other people do. The way I do.”

“Jungwon…”

“If you decide to have a relationship with someone, one of any nature, then it should be because you want to, not because you feel like you have to or because you’re trying to prove something.”

“What if I never get over it?” you ask, voice small, hardly a whisper. “What if I never get past this fear?”

“You will,” Jungwon promises. “It might not happen as fast as you want it to or in the way you expect it to, but you will.”

It’s so him, you think. So Jungwon to have more faith in you than even you ever could. He’s been here since the beginning, and he’s not going anywhere. He’s seen you face obstacles and challenges before, and he’s always done everything in his power to help you overcome them. 

Maybe this is no different. Maybe the only thing you ever needed was some help from Jungwon. 

Maybe…

No. Even with your logic twisting things to your favor, you know that this is different. This is different from asking for a favor or some moral support. If you ask Jungwon to do this for you, you’re crossing a line. One that you’re not sure you’d be able to come back from. 

The friendship you have isn’t just something you’re unwilling to risk. It has quite literally become something you don’t know how to live without. You’ve never had to try, never even had to imagine a life without Jungwon at your side. 

The only time that came close was during your first year of university, during your relationship with Jay, and that had been nearly enough to wreck you. The potential fallout from this could be worse, so much worse. You won’t risk it. 

But then, unbidden, your mind supplies a memory. One from his couch, little more than a week ago. 

“You can ask me,” he’d told you, earnest in his delivery, “anything you want me to do.” He said it himself. He promised you. “I’ll say yes.”

So, before you can lose your grip on the last remnants of courage you have, you ask, “Would you ever…”

It’s as far as you get before your bravery fails you, words trailing off into nothingness. 

You wish you could take them back when Jungwon asks, a little breathless. “Would I ever what?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Just forget I said anything.”

But he won’t let you get away so easily. “Ask me.”

And you swear, it’s like he knows. His gaze bores into yours, searching, pleading, desperate, like he can see you all the way down to your bones. Like even the most secret of your thoughts have been laid bare before him. 

“___,” he whispers your name. “Ask me,” he repeats. 

“I just…” Your eyes screw shut. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. “What if we…”

“What if we what?”

You open your eyes, but only to look down towards your lap. “I trust you,” you whisper. In the silence of his car, it feels like you’re shouting. “More than anyone. Maybe I’ll be able to get over that hurdle in my mind if I just let you—”

“Let me what?” he asks. “Touch you?”

The breath you draw is ragged, shallow, as he hits the bullseye with little effort. Your fingers find a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater. You know better, but you pull anyway. “Yeah,” you exhale. “If you…” You can’t look him in the eye, even now. It’s hardly a whisper, but you can’t bring yourself to say it any louder. “If I let you touch me.”

Jungwon’s inhale is sharp, his shudder involuntary. He leans across the center console, closer to you. Closer, closer, closer, until he stops, lips parting, face inches from yours.

He takes a deep breath in, holding it as his eyes search your face even as you keep yours turned down. Your heart hammers in your chest so violently you think it must be trying to escape. You still can’t look at him. 

Jungwon’s breath escapes him in a shallow huff, dusting across your cheekbone. He lingers there for a second, like he can’t stand the thought of distance. 

Then, without a warning, he sits back in his seat, knuckles white against the fabric of his jeans.

“I can’t,” he tells you.

You look up, eyes widening in surprise. “What?”

“I can’t,” he repeats. This time, he’s the one avoiding eye contact. You search his features for anything, any kind of explanation, but all you find is the tense set of his jaw, the heat that still simmers in his gaze. The restraint holding him back. 

And suddenly, shame flashes through you. White hot humiliation that stings all the way down to your bones. It was one thing to imagine rejection from faceless men. But feeling it now, from him, from Jungwon, is so much worse than anything your mind ever conjured. 

Trying not to let accusation sit too heavy in your tone, you whisper, “You promised.” It’s so pathetic, but there’s nothing left of your pride at that point. “You told me you’d say yes to anything.”

Jungwon flinches. “And I’m trying,” he tells you, an edge to his voice that sings with desperation. “Believe me, I am. I’m doing my best to make this about you, but…”

“But what?” You scoff. “You changed your mind? The thought of me like that is so repulsive you have to—”

“No.” He won’t let you finish. “But you’re sitting here, looking at me like you’d do anything for it, like you need it, and I can’t just say yes and give it to you because I do too.”

Your anger subsides, replaced with confusion. “What do you—”

“I need it too.” Only then does he meet your eye. Wide in the dying glow of lingering daylight, he’s begging for a bit of your understanding. “I’m trying to be selfless, but if I touch you, that won’t be just for you.”

Your brow creases. You still don’t get it. “I don’t—”

Jungwon releases a shaky exhale. “I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on you since I was old enough to know what it meant. Since I was old enough to want things like that at all.”

It’s all too much, too sudden. “Jungwon, what—”

“I know that you still think of me as the kid you grew up next to, and I’ve been doing my best not to shatter the illusion because you like me like that. But you come home from a date telling me it didn’t work out, telling me that boys don’t like you, and all I can think is good.” His hand curls into a fist, knuckles white. “I could do it so much better anyway.”

“I didn’t…” You shake your head. It doesn’t make sense. “You never—”

But Jungwon isn’t done yet. “You’re sitting here asking me to touch you, but I— fuck, ___. I can’t. Not when you’re only asking because you think it doesn’t mean anything to me. That it won’t change anything for me. You tell me that you trust me, and it’s the sweetest thing about you. I can’t take advantage of that.” His breath is practically heaving now, like he’s just finished running. “I can’t use your trust and break it like this.”

The sun dips past the horizon. The only lingering remnants of daylight cast his face into a gentle glow. Even as shadows begin to trace his features, he’s still Jungwon. Your Jungwon. But no matter how many times you spin his words through your mind, you can’t form them into something you understand. Something you have any idea what to do with. 

“I…” It’s so confusing. It’s entirely too much. All you can think is, “Why did you never say anything?”

Jungwon laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Would it have changed anything? I know you. You run when you get scared. You like me like this, your harmless little friend. You said it yourself, you think you know everything about boys like me. And you needed a friend. So that’s what I’ll be. Your friend. But I can’t say yes, not to this.”

“What if—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “I know you think I can handle anything, but don’t tell me things you don’t mean.”

“Jungwon,” you try softly. 

His fingers wrap around his steering wheel, knuckles turning white. “Just let me drive you home,” he pleads.

“But—”

“Please,” he whispers, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so broken. “I know it was too much, that it’s not fair to you, but I can’t… I don’t think I can look at you right now and see all that confusion. So just,” he begs again, “please. Let me take you home.”

You want to press the issue, want to keep going until you have even a small fragment of understanding to call yours, but Jungwon is no stranger to making sacrifices for you. It seems he’s been making even more than you ever realized. 

Tonight, right now, you can do the same for him. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

The drive home passes in silence. Heavy, thick, uncomfortable like a blanket on a sweltering summer night. Neither of you bother to turn on the music this time. The only company to the quiet are the thoughts spinning through your mind, the moon that begins to shine as dusk turns to night. 

Still, as he eases into the driveway just in front of your apartment, you can’t help but whisper, “Good night, Jungwon” as you step out of the passenger seat. 

Whatever has passed between you, whatever terrible precipice the two of you have just fallen from, he doesn’t seem to be able to either. 

“Good night, ____.”

By the time you make it inside, he’s gone. You know it will be, even before you check for his car from your bedroom window.

…..

“Um,” you begin, entirely unsure how to start the conversation. Across from you, Sophia sits on her favorite kitchen stool, scrolling through her Instagram feed while you wait for the pasta water to boil. “Something happened.”

“Mm?” She hums halfheartedly, eyes still trained on her phone screen. 

Your words come out too fast, like you’re in a rush to have them over with as quickly as you can. “I was with Jungwon a few nights ago, and—”

“Oh my god,” she interrupts as she finally looks up, phone forgotten as she sets in on the counter. “You two finally hooked up?”

“What?” Your face pales at just how close she is to the truth. “Why would you even ask that? We’ve never even come close.” Well, of course, except for the incident you’re currently trying to explain. That you’ve been tiptoeing around for the better part of a minute. 

“Are you kidding?” Sophia deadpans. “That boy looks at you like he wants to eat you.”

You splutter. “He does not.”

Sophia rolls her eyes. “He wouldn’t look at me for a week after I set you up with Sunghoon. And I thought he was gonna kill me that day he saw us at the cafe. All I did was mention the possibility of you having sex with someone that wasn’t him, and it’s like he was writing my name on some imaginary death note.”

“You don’t even watch anime,” you point out. 

“I know the reference,” she argues. 

Then, something more pressing draws your attention. “You did it on purpose,” you accuse, realization dawning. “You kept pushing the subject that day to see how he’d react.”

“No,” she denies, shaking her head. “I really do think you should put yourself out there more. Whether it’s Sunghoon or him or someone entirely different. Although,” she considers, “it is always kind of fun to see him get like that. Jungwon’s one of those people you don’t really expect it from, you know? He’s always so calm and collected. But I don’t know if I’ll try it again,” she looks at you, faking a shudder. “He’s scary when it comes to you.”

Any other day, in any other situation, you’d protest. You’d insist that Jungwon is entirely unaffected by you and your romantic choices. That Sophia must have been imagining things that day. 

But Jungwon has already basically confirmed every last one of her claims, whispered them to you himself from the secrecy of his driver’s seat.

It’s the reason you invited her over today. To talk. To get a different perspective. To help you work through what happened. 

Now, though, you just have a question. 

“Why…” You still can’t wrap your mind around it. “Why did no one ever say anything?”

Sophia senses the shift, the way you go from defense to acceptance. From arguing to spiraling. 

“Oh, ___,” she pouts. “My poor, sweet, oblivious ____.”

“I’m not oblivious,” you argue. 

“Not usually,” she agrees. “But it’s like you have this blind spot when it comes to him. He’ll be in the middle of undressing you with his eyes and you’ll start telling some story about the matching diapers your moms bought when you were babies.”

“They were pajamas,” you correct.

“Whatever,” Sophia waves it off. “The point still stands. That boy wants you. Like, biblically.”

It’s consistent. It’s as much as Jungwon himself told you himself. But something about it makes you feel so terribly defeated, so completely unaware of everything you thought you knew about your friendship. About him. About yourself. 

A bit helplessly, you ask, “What am I supposed to do?”

Sophia takes one look at you, at the dejection clouding your features, and sighs. “Can I be honest with you?”

You nod. 

“I think you’re asking the wrong question. It’s not about what you’re supposed to do. It’s not about what Jungwon wants or what I think about your weird, sexually charged friendship.” Then, she asks the million dollar question, “What do you want to do?”

But that’s exactly the problem, you think, because, “I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean, I’ve never thought about it. He’s always just been Jungwon to me.” Pausing for a moment, you suppose you have little pride left to lose. You might as well be honest. “But the other night, when I was with him. I started thinking about… things.”

“Things,” Sophia repeats. She leans in closer, resting her chin against her palm as she asks, “What kinds of things? Feel free to be graphic, by the way.”

“Sophia.”

She pouts sympathetically. “You might not know right away. You’ve spent your entire life thinking of him as some untouchable, sexless entity. Which is kind of crazy, by the way. Like, have you seen the guy?”

You sigh. “Sophia—”

“I’m just saying, it might not happen overnight.” She looks at you, and you feel a sudden surge of gratitude for your friend. She may be wildly different from you in more ways than one, but she means it when she says, “It’s okay. Jungwon will understand, too. If you need some more time to decide if you want to jump his bones or not. He’s probably already been waiting since, like, junior prom. What’s a little longer?”

A little longer, you think. Part of you already spins with doubt, waiting for someone else to supply exact answers. How long is a little longer? When should you make your decision? How long is it supposed to take for you to know if your best friend of eighteen years is meant to stay as just that, or if the relationship between you has been building, slowly, surely, undeniably, into something else this whole time?

But you suppose that’s what Sophia means when she says it’s okay. What Jungwon meant when he told you it was alright to do things at your own pace, on your own time. You don’t need someone else to decide for you. 

The difficulty isn’t a flaw—it’s a sign that this decision is one that matters to you, one that’s worth taking your time with. 

So you do. 

You think about it while you fine tune your resume for yet another job application. You think about it while you snip thorns off of roses at the flower shop, humming along absentmindedly to the playlist in the background. 

You think about it in the shower and while you dinner. When your mom calls you and tells you about the new bulbs she just bought for her garden, the one that time and experience have allowed her to grow into something beautiful and thriving. 

You think about it when you reach into the bottom drawer of your dresser one evening, pulling out the gift Jungwon gave you when you graduated high school nearly five long years ago. 

A photobook, full of all your favorite memories together. Something to remember him by, he’d told you, so you wouldn’t miss him too much when you went off to university one whole year ahead of him. 

In every picture, you’re smiling, grinning so wide you think your face must be in danger of splitting in two. And you’re so lucky, you think, to have someone to share all of these memories with. To have someone who’s been in your life for so long, who’s always been exactly what you needed. 

And then, staring at a picture of the two of you in high school, his arm around your shoulders as the two of you laugh into the camera, you think it’s obvious. 

You don’t have to make a choice between the Jungwon you know and the one you’re afraid to discover. Jungwon has been, and always will be, Jungwon. The way he smiles at you, because of you, isn’t an illusion, and the love he offers you isn’t conditional. 

He’s been your friend for as long as you can remember, and he will be for the rest of your life. Your feelings and hopes and desires may have shifted, but he isn’t going anywhere. 

He’s not scared of the truth, you realize. He never was. But he knew that you would be. 

So he fed it to you slowly until it was too prominent to deny anymore. And even then, he gave you space. Time. Let you come to your own conclusions. 

And somehow, that makes all the difference. 

You think of the game you used to play as kids, the one where you put on your best dress and let him pick wildflowers for you from his back yard. The one where you used the welcome mat from his porch as a makeshift aisle. The one where every time you walked down it, he was the one waiting for you at the end. 

You smile, nearly identical to the picture still splayed open across your lap, and you think that maybe there was never really a choice at all. 

…..

Your knuckles barely rap against the door three times before you hear shuffling on the other side. Footsteps drawing closer until the latch opens, until the door draws back and you see him standing there. Jungwon. 

If he’s surprised to see you, he doesn’t show it. Dressed in gray sweatpants and a plain, fitted black t-shirt, you don’t think he was expecting company. 

“Hi,” you breathe. “Can we talk?”

Jungwon still says nothing, but he opens the door a bit wider, gives you space to walk in. Standing in the entry, you take your shoes off, setting them neatly with the others before drawing back up to full height. Prolonging the inevitable as if it makes any part of what you’re about to do easier. 

You finally drag your eyes back to Jungwon. He’s already looking at you, expression unreadable. His hands are loose at his sides, but his posture is just slightly unnatural. Just a little too stiff. You know him. He’s nervous. 

Finally, you break the silence building between you. “I’ve been thinking,” you tell him. 

“About what?” he asks.

“You,” you admit. “Us.” A string somewhere pulls taught. A thread loosens. 

Jungwon sighs, his exhale shaky. His hand curls to a loose fist before he tucks it into his pocket. “And?”

“I—” Your decision is still solid, not something you’ll back away from. But the words are harder to work out than you expected. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had in my life.”

Jungwon nods. “I know.”

“So,” you try, “it feels weird to suddenly have these thoughts about…”

He won’t let you leave things unsaid, not this time. “About what?”

“You know,” you try to deflect.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “but I’m gonna make you say it.”

You fidget a bit, eyes dropping, but you didn’t come all the way here because you weren’t sure. You know exactly what you want to tell him. 

So you explain, “I just… you asked me, after my date with Sunghoon, what I was looking for.” It feels like a long time ago now, like a distant memory. “And I always felt like I didn’t know, but when I think about it, I always think about…”

“What?” Jungwon breathes.

“You.” Your eyes meet his. This time, neither of you looks away. “I think about you. I don’t have to try and come up with the best answer to my favorite hobbies because you already know. You know me better than anyone and you make me feel good about myself and all the things I usually don’t like. I don’t feel awkward or uncomfortable around you, and I don’t feel like I have to explain myself to you.”

Jungwon’s breath is coming heavier now. He takes half a step towards you, almost subconsciously, as if distance is something he’s finding more difficult to tolerate. But he knows you aren’t done, so he lets you continue. 

“And then,” you add, “I was thinking about the difference between our friendship as it’s always been and the kind of relationship I think I want. And the only thing that’s really different is, you know, the sex.” Your words are spilling now, faster than even you can keep up with. “But even then, when I was trying to think of someone who I trusted enough to be with like that, the only person I thought of was—” 

“Me,” Jungwon finishes, gaze unreadable. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You. I don’t want to go on blind dates with Sophia’s coworkers or find random guys to hook up with. I just want you. It’s always been you. I want all of it to be you.”

Jungwon’s eyes shutter, brows going slack as he takes a deep inhale. 

But you want to give him the same courtesy he’s been extending towards you this entire time. The decision, you want him to know, will always be his to make. “I know it might seem weird or sudden or out of the blue,” you tell him, “but I just needed you to know.” Thinking of his earlier promise you clarify, “You don’t have to say yes. I don’t even know if I’m really asking you anything—”

“You think about me?” he interrupts. “When you think about what you want in a relationship?”

The bluntness of it all still makes you want to squirm. But you hold steady. “Yeah,” you tell him.

“And when you think about having sex,” He’s so direct. It makes you want to hide your face behind your hands. “That’s me too?”

You can’t quite manage words this time, but your nod is confirmation enough. 

Jungwon exhales, even harsher than before. “Are you just curious?” he asks. “It’s fine if you are, but I can’t— we can’t do this if you’re just trying to scratch an itch. If you’re just doing it to move on, to get over a fear.”

“I…” you’re trying to read between the lines, to make sure that you understand what he’s saying. It seems obvious, but there’s a strange haze in your mind that has you doubting everything, including your own judgement. “If we do…”

Jungwon doesn’t seem to have the same reservations for spelling it out. “If we have sex.”

“Oh,” you breathe. And then, “No.” You shake your head. 

“No?” He echoes. 

“I…” You trail off, trying to find the right words to explain. “I’m not—There’s no fear when it comes to you. I’m not trying to get over anything. And there’s no one else that I even want to be with like that, so…” You trail off, searching for the words. “You told me it was my choice, and I guess I just want you to know that it’s yours, too. You don’t have to agree to anything, because you’re afraid of disappointing me or hurting my feelings or—”

“___,” he whispers your name, the sound nearly broken on his lips. You look up at him, eyes wide. “Come here,” he begs. 

It only takes two tiny steps for you to stand just before him, for your chests to nearly brush. For a moment, Jungwon does nothing. Then, his arms come up, one circling around your shoulders, the other against the small of your back as he pulls you flush to him. 

The side of your face rests against his chest, his heartbeat erratic under your cheek. You hear him sigh and feel the way his breath flutters through your hair. 

He leans back, just slightly, and you follow the movement, chin tilting upwards as your eyes meet his. The hand wrapped around your shoulders slowly unravels itself. He brings his hand up to your temple, brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

His other hand stays steady against the small of your back. 

Jungwon’s fingertips linger against the shell of your ear for a moment. You suppress a shudder as he begins to drag them down, tracing the line of your jaw until they come to settle just beneath your chin. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers.

You nod, the movement making his fingers press more firmly into your skin. 

Then, slowly, he begins to lean towards you. His nose brushes against yours, once, twice, a third time. 

“I’ve thought about this,” he admits. “More times than I can count.”

He’s told you as much before, but now, with his hands on you and his lips just inches away, it feels different. It feels real. 

“I imagined you looking at me,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “with those big, wide eyes.” Another kiss, this time to the curve of your cheekbone. “Clinging to me,” a kiss to your eyelid as it flutters shut. “Sighing.” The tip of your nose. “And I’d try to hold back, but—”

“You don’t have to,” you shake your head. It comes out quieter than you mean for it too. It’s ridiculous, maybe, but even now, you feel shy. 

“You mean that?” he asks, lips hovering so close you can feel their warmth. 

You nod, nose brushing against his. 

Jungwon sighs, takes a deep breath. And then he presses forward, just enough, until his lips finally brush against yours. 

His grip tightens against you, fingers bunching the fabric of your shirt that rests against the small of your back. 

He’s gentle, so impossibly sweet as his lips find yours. Upper lip slotting between both of yours, he tugs slightly against your bottom lip. Releases it with a soft, wet sound. Smiles against you as you giggle into him. 

When his lips find yours again, it’s with renowned fervency. The pressure is more insistent this time, more demanding as he uses the hand beneath your jaw to angle you his liking. 

Jungwon takes the lead, pausing, soothing his touch against your skin while you adjust to his pace. 

Your hands find his hair, tangling in the strands near his neck. You tug, an involuntary response when you feel his teeth against your bottom lip, and he groans, shuddering against you. 

Without breaking connection, he moves, walking backwards, leading blindly, until he sits down on the same couch you’ve been sharing moments on for weeks now. This time, he tugs you down with him, pulling you flush against his lap. 

You feel it then, the evidence of just how affected he is. As if the drunk flush on his cheeks and swollen, red tint of his lips weren’t enough. 

Jungwon wraps both hands around your waist now, pulling you tighter to him as your fingers cup his jaw, tracing, gripping. 

You feel it then, his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you part them without a second thought. 

Jungwon waits until you’re breathless above him to decide that he’s had enough of this position. Using the leverage of his hands around you, he maneuvers your body until you're flat against the cushions, head propped against the pillow that sits by the armrest. 

Hovering over you now, he uses his hands to brace himself on either side of your head. Eyes trained on your features, on the evidence of his ministrations. His gaze gets darker, heavier, as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. Skin flushed, lips swollen and parted in anticipation, in permission. 

Jungwon’s had his fantasies. Has kept them close to his chest and in the back of his mind for longer than he’d be willing to admit. But the sight of you now. Under him, reaching for him, begging for him, is enough to shatter every wet dream he’s had since he was a teenager. 

Jungwon doesn’t maintain distance for long. Leaning down, he invades all of your senses. All you can see, even with your eyes screwed shut, is him. All you can feel is his lips, warm and insistent against your, the press of his hands on you, hovering just above the sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up over your waistband. Every sound, every scent, every taste—it’s all him. Something warm and familiar and entirely new all at once. 

His hand plays with the fabric of your hem for a moment, testing the waters. When all you do is kiss him back—harder—he decides to press his luck. Fingertips dancing against the bare skin of your lower stomach, he starts to drag your shirt upwards. 

The air of his apartment is cool, even if his touch is anything but. It makes every inch of exposed skin that much more sensitive, goosebumps rising as his fingertips trace patterns against you. 

His lips press against yours, a new angle, as a sound loosens itself from your chest. He swallows it, tongue pressing against you like he wants to savor it, like he’d do anything to hear it again. 

He has your shirt nearly to your ribcage now, fingers tracing against the bottom seam of your bra, nerves singing with something new as you arch up against him. You need more. 

Friction, pressure, touch, it doesn’t matter. You’ll take whatever he gives you. 

Then, suddenly, you remember. Pulling back slightly, his lips chase yours. 

“Wait,” you pant, the syllable muffled as he presses another kiss against you. 

Once your request registers, he stops, mouth still brushing against yours. Leaning back slightly, he frowns. His chest still heaves when he asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathless. “But what about Jake?”

“What?” Jungwon asks above you. You don’t seem to be the only one struggling with coherent thought.

“Jake,” you repeat. “What if he comes in?”

He wouldn’t see anything, not really. Even the expanse of your bare torso is covered by Jungwon’s body on yours. But still, something in you hesitates. This, all of it, is for you and him. No one else. 

Jungwon shakes his head. “He’s not home.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t,” Jungwon insists. “He’s visiting his family for the weekend. He won’t be back until Monday.”

Still breathing hard, it’s as if your interruption knocked sense back into him. Palm still splayed against your ribs, he rubs gentle strokes with the pad of his thumb. 

Looking down at you, his eyes crinkle slightly at the way you look so sweet under him, so shy despite what you’d been doing only moments earlier. 

“Hey,” he leans down, nudging his nose against yours, “You doing okay?”

You nod, but you still don’t match his gaze. 

“Yeah?” he confirms, “Then look at me.”

It takes a moment, but you do. Your cheeks only redden further, flush more apparent than he’s ever seen it before when you finally meet his eye. 

Something in his chest swells. You might be a year older, but fuck if it doesn’t make him feel like such a man knowing that he’s the reason you look like this, that he’s the one who did this to you. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, grinning when you look away again. He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. A chaste peck against the seam of your lips. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Jungwon,” you whine. 

“What?” he asks. “It’s true.”

“I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

“I can take a break to compliment you?”

You flush again, hands coming up to cover your face. 

“Ah, ah,” Jungwon tsks, fingers wrapping around your wrists. “I asked you to look at me.” He pulls, gentle but insistent, until your hands fall away. Until he can once again look you in the eye. 

“How long are you just gonna stare at me?” you ask.

“As long as you’ll let me,” he grins. 

“Jungwon,” you whine again. 

“Why?” he asks, practically cooing at you now. “Is my baby shy?”

You shudder at the pet name, and it awakens something devious in him. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “I see. You’re getting impatient. Need me to touch you. Is that it?”

All you do is whine, but it’s a good enough answer for him. 

“C’mon,” he urges, leaning back. “Up.” 

You frown at the sudden distance, a furrow creasing your brow. 

“The first time we have sex is not going to be on my living room couch,” he explains. Taking your hand in his, he guides you instead towards his bedroom. 

And it’s not like you’ve never been here before, but something about the low light, the weight of what you’re about to do, makes it feel like uncharted territory. 

You step into the room, even further than Jungwon, eyes trained on the queen size bed pressed up under the window on the far side of the room. 

Your back to him, you hear Jungwon pull the door shut. It latches into place with a quiet click. And then, behind you, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” you admit, turning to face him as you sit on the edge of his bed. “Us. I never thought…” you trail off, palm smoothing against the top of his sheets. “I never thought we’d be here.”

“I did,” Jungwon tells you. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Maybe thought is the wrong word,” he amends. “But I hoped.” He’s quiet for a moment, emotions playing out across his features. “Now that you’re here, I…” he hesitates, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to do anything wrong,” he admits. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“You won’t.” You shake your head. “I told you. I trust you. That includes this, too.”

Jungwon looks at you, gaze open. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” you nod. 

Some of the tension drains from his broad shoulders, but he stays where he is, silhouette shrouded in the dim light of his bedroom.

This time, it’s you who takes charge. 

“Jungwon,” you whisper, an echo of your earlier embrace in his entry way. “Come here.” 

That’s all the encouragement he needs. His footsteps are even, steady, as he makes his way towards you. All the way until he stands just before you, looking down at where you sit on his sheets. 

His hand comes to your cheek, thumb tracing patterns against your skin as you lean into his touch. 

“Up,” he instructs. “Back against the pillows.” His hand falls from your face, trails down until his fingers interlace with yours. He follows in your wake as you move according to his instructions, all the way until you’re in a ghost of the position from his couch. 

His body hovers over yours, breath warm as it fans against your cheekbone. 

Again, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. This time, he’s less shy about pressing it upwards, all the way until it sits against the band of your bra. 

Plain, black, built more for comfort than arousal. But you know Jungwon. He’ll take you as you are. 

“Jungwon,” you breathe, just as his fingertip slips beneath the band. It takes him a moment to tear his eyes away, to look up and meet your gaze. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Lips meeting yours, the slow build from before is gone. He knows what he’s searching for now, has already learned what rhythm makes you breathless fastest, palms splaying against his chest like you’d do anything to be closer. 

His hand comes to your hip, then slides to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You shudder as he guides it open, pliant to his touch. Jungwon uses the newly created space to slot his leg in between yours. 

The shift has him brushing against you where tension is beginning to gather, exactly where you’re beginning to ache. 

It feels good, but there’s something frustrating about it. The way sensation builds and falls in the same maddening ebb and flow, like the sea of an uncharacteristically quiet day. 

You already know it’s not enough. Against his lips, you whine. A pathetic little sound that stays half trapped in your throat. But Jungwon understands. 

Sees the way your hips are starting to roll against him, the way your brow creases in concentration as you try to find a better angle. 

Leg still between yours, he lets his fingertips ghost over the planes of your bare stomach, dragging downwards until he’s exactly where you want him. 

You whine against his lips and he shudders. “Is this what you need?” 

You can hardly respond, can hardly think as his fingers dip below your waistband. Far more precise, it doesn’t take long to have you seeing stars. 

He’s still kissing you, and you do your best to return it, but the sensations he levels you with are more than a little maddening. Lips parted against his, your mouth is practically slack as he works against you. 

“Feels—good,” you sigh, eyes screwing shut. 

“I can tell,” he whispers, some kind of awe in his voice. “Look at you.”

You’re so close. Jungwon can tell, too. He’s frantic now, movements tighter, faster as he watches the way your face twists in pleasure. 

Your hand closes around his wrist, stopping him. “Jungwon,” you pant, the sound of his name hardly coherent. “Wait.”

Immediately, his hand stills. He doesn’t pull away though, just leaves it there, against you. 

The sensation sends a fresh, aching throb pulsing from somewhere deep within you. Jungwon feels it too, against his fingertips, and groans. 

Remembering himself, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “I just… I’m ready.”

Jungwon thinks he knows what you mean. He’s imagined those same words from you before. A million times, in a million different contexts. But the sight of you beneath him, eyes wide, lips parted, so terribly sweet, is so much better than he ever dreamed. 

“I want you,” you whisper, tugging at his wrist. “Please.”

Jungwon won’t make you wait. Fingers still hidden beneath your waistband, he slides them towards the top now, pulling, all the way until you’re bare beneath him. 

He presses a kiss against your hip, just shy of where he was moments before.

He helps you slide your shirt over your head and shudders when your bra follows in its wake. He marvels at the feeling of your hands, smaller than his, tugging at his shirt, his jeans, until the two of you are in an equal state of undress. 

Again, because it’s true and because he can’t help himself, he whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re still shy, even more so with the weight of his gaze on you, but you manage, “So are you.” It’s his turn to flush.

Hands pressing against your shoulders, he guides you to lay down again. Hair fanning out against his pillows, he thinks you look a bit like an angel here, tangled in his sheets. 

He’d tell you, if he weren’t so distracted by the sudden feeling of your leg coming to wrap around his waist. 

Skin against skin, it feels even closer than before. Warmer, Softer. 

“Jungwon,” your brows pull downward, eyes fluttering shut as you chase the sensations that have begun to drown you. “Please.”

He moves slowly, not from hesitation. Jungwon doesn’t think he’s ever been so sure of anything in his life. But he knows what this means to you, to him. He wants to take his time, wants to let every part of you adjust to him until you feel like an extension of one another, until your bodies can’t quite tell where one ends and the other begins. 

He swallows your gasp as he presses into you. Brows furrowed, lips parted, he drops his head into the crook of your neck, scattering soothing kisses down the length of your throat. 

“Feels so good,” he encourages as you whimper, adjusting. “Perfect, like you were made for me.” 

The sentiment rings true, now and later, when he feels you relax around him, when he starts to move. 

Slowly, reverently, at a pace that lets him press as deep as possible. 

He brings his hand from your hip to the space just beneath your navel, palm splaying over your lower stomach, just above where he presses inside of you. Pushing down slightly, the added pressure makes you whine, tightening around him. 

Jungwon groans, a long, deep sound that vibrates between your bodies. 

“Jungwon,” you whisper, when the ache starts to sing, when the pressure starts to build. When you close your eyes and see stars behind them. 

“I know,” he pants, like he feels it too. “It’s okay,” he assures. “I have you.”

It’s a reminder of what brought you here in the first place. And the sound of his voice is all you need. 

Keening high in your throat, every muscle, every nerve, every fiber in your body goes taut. Tightens, pulls, before it releases. Jungwon leans down, lips parted against your collarbone as he groans, falling over the same edge only moments after you. 

The shower he runs for you is warm, the touch he washes your hair with soothing as he rinses soap from your scalp. 

The sheets are soft as you crawl between them, Jungwon’s chest firm as he pulls you tight against him. 

“Sleep,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. 

Body exhausted, mind sated, it doesn’t take long for you to do as he says. In his arms, the rest that finds you is deep and dreamless. 

…..

“Name?” Across from you, the secretary that sits at the front desk looks bored out of her mind. As if she’s seen one too many potential new hires and doesn’t think they’re worth remembering at this point. 

You give her your name, and she types a brief note into her computer. Doesn’t bother memorizing it, but you won’t let that get to you, not today. 

“You can sit over there.” She gestures towards the row of chairs against the far wall of the reception area. With a smile so tight you think her jaw must hurt, she adds, “I’ll call you when they’re ready.”

It’s not much. It’s barely even polite, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when this is the first real company you’ve stepped foot in in months. When this is the first time you’ve gotten a string of congratulations in the subject line of your email inbox instead of rejections.  

Still, it isn’t a sure thing. A test run, the hiring manager had called it. A week of in-person work at the company to see if you’ll be a good fit, if they’re willing to formally offer you a position. 

An extension of the already lengthy interview process you’ve been subjected to for the last six weeks. But it’s far more than you’ve gotten from anywhere else. 

It’s enough to have hope soaring in your chest, even at the prospect of a week of what is essentially unpaid labor.

Sliding down into the chair, you tug at the sleeve of your blazer, smooth the collar over one final time. 

In your mind, you rehearse the answers you gave during your interviews. You’re not sure if you’ll be asked again, but you figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

You’re interested in the position, because the company’s mission statement excites you. You think it aligns well with your experience and your hopes for a future career. 

Are you good with deadlines? Better than nearly everyone you know. Do you work well under pressure? Absolutely. Where do you see yourself in five years? Advancing in your career as a young professional in the same field you earned your degree in. The same field a position at this company would put you in. 

As the minutes pass, you remind yourself to breathe, to relax. The butterflies taking flight in your stomach won’t help you now, so you do your best to banish them. 

And, minutes later, just as the secretary calls your name, you feel your phone buzz. 

Glancing down, you grin at the message that comes through. 

You got this, Jungwon says, the small heart next to his contact name shining like a reminder. Knock em dead

And then, beneath it, 

Can’t wait to see you tonight beautiful 

So, you stand up a little straighter. Shoulders square, chin high. You’re okay, even as your nerves threaten to send your heart beating out of your chest. 

No matter what the results of this so-called trial run are, or every single attempt you’ll surely make after it, you’ll be fine. And if you fail, you’ll try again. 

Whether this ends in an official offer letter or a bold-faced rejection, no matter what, you have Jungwon—rooting for you, thinking of you, waiting for you to come back and tell him all about it. 

Jungwon, your best friend, your favorite person, and probably, if the feelings you’re starting to get whenever he’s near are anything to go by, the love of your life. 

You meet the secretary’s gaze, smiling even as all she does is arch a brow. And then you tell her, “I’m ready.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

[kikidoul]

FOUL PLAY.

IN WHICH. . . nishimura riki has like you for a long, long time. even when you're dating his captain, that won't stop him from getting his hands on you. and maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way to him too.

11.5k wc⠀‎❀⠀‎ rich kids academy au ♪♪ soccer player nishimura riki x fem! reader 𐧘 explicit mature content, cheating, dub-con recording of sex (reader didn't say yes but doesn't mind), size kink, thigh riding, degrading, praising, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnulingus, oral sex (m & f receiving), squirting, spitting.

Everyone knows Nishimura Riki. If someone were to ask about him, they would reply with any of the following sentences:

"Riki? You mean the Nishimura Riki? Duh, who doesn't know him? I heard he's the youngest in the team and the coach personally scouted him."

"Ah, him? I don't like him. Why, you ask? Simple, 'cause he's a cocky guy and guys like him need to get knock down from their high horses once in a while. It's nothing personal, don't worry."

"Nishimura? Yeah, I don't know anything about soccer but what I do know is that he's fine as hell. I heard he's single too but he likes someone, so there goes my dream."

In conclusion, everyone in campus both know and have heard of Riki. But then again, who doesn't?

He's the secret weapon of the soccer team, a one man army with insane skills. It's thanks to him that the team was able to bring home many trophies, one after another. Outside of soccer, he has a high reputation—which is to no one's surprise.

He demands for attention without saying it out loud. But there was no need to, not when you're Nishimura Riki. He carries himself with confidence, his signature smug and arrogant grin stretched wide across his face, walking like he owns the place. Heads and eyes will follow him, unconsciously giving their attention to him without them knowing.

With his high-rank status, swoon-worthy looks that made him looked like he was personally crafted from both gods and goddesses and wealthy background, there's no doubt there are all kinds of rumors going around. But what everyone was mostly interested in was his status.

Some shameless girls loudly claim they are Riki's crush, despite the fact they have never talked to him face-to-face before. It's a common sight to see girls confessing to him, followed by him rejecting their confessions, leaving them embarrassed or disappointed.

What no one knew however, was that he already has his eyes set on a certain someone. Someone who is out of his league but he doesn't care. What Riki wants is what he will get, no matter what it takes.

Fweeeeet!

A sharp, high-pitched whistle pierced though the air and echoed throughout the open-air field. Hearing it, everyone stopped what they were doing as they ran to gather before their coach. All of them were drenched in sweat, their jerseys sticking to their bodies, almost wanting to blend into their skin.

The coach—a man in his late thirties, stood before them with a stern expression on his face.

"Alright boys, the competition's in four days and I want everyone to be in their best condition. You hear me? That means no slacking around, no drinking and no wasting time on girls," he reminded them, directing the last part to a certain player in the team, who merely blinked his eyes, acting innocent.

"Yes, sir," everyone replied in unison.

The coach nodded, pleased and blew his whistle again. "Now let's start practice. Split into two teams of four."

~

Practice went on for the next three hours or so under the hot, sweltering sun. By the time it was over, all Riki wanted was to desperately return to his dorm, take a shower and collapse into his bed to sleep the rest of the day away.

His assignments and everything else that isn't important can wait. He slowly trudged to the benches where his duffel bag was, groaning as he knew he'll be experiencing horrible muscle pain tomorrow.

"Oh, Riki!"

The way he straightened up at the sound of your voice was quite embarrassing but thankfully, his teammates were too a few feet away from him, giving him some alone time with you. Riki stopped walking, watching you through his squinted eyes as you approached him, wearing your signature warm and friendly smile on your face.

The soccer player shamelessly lets his eyes scan you from head to toe—greedily drinking in the way your clothes perfectly hugged your body, further accentuating on your figure. Riki gnawed on his bottom lip, eyes darkening a shade when he noticed the skirt you wore was short. Short enough for his mind to start wandering off, going down the gutter.

He could see your clean, bare and unblemished thighs underneath it, making his mouth waters as he wish to sink his teeth into your pillowy thighs, wanting to hear you cry out. Would you moan his name? Would you start tearing up if he nipped at your inner thighs? Would you start shaking and squirming beneath him while beg—

"Babe? What are you doing here?"

Oh right, you're dating someone that's not him.

Riki snapped back to reality, scowling and frowning like your boyfriend—his captain, had committed a grave crime known in the world. In a sense, he did. Riki will never understand how his captain managed to capture your heart or how you ended up falling for him. As far as he was aware, your boyfriend was anything but nice to you.

Firstly, he doesn't treat you as an equal. It's a ritual for the team to host parties whenever they won first place at competitions. Parties is where Riki gets a front-row seat of witnessing his captain treating you like you were invisible.

He will wander off, getting dragged away by his own group of friends while leaving his girlfriend—you, alone to fend for yourself.

And it's always up to Riki to be your knight in shining armor. Thanks to that however, it allow him to build a friendship with you.

Secondly, your boyfriend has a huge ego. Riki always have to hold himself back from throwing hands whenever he heard the low, hurtful comments his captain made towards you. He hated how he couldn't do anything but what he hated the most was the look on your face. The way the smile dropped. The way the light in your eyes died down and most importantly, how his words made you feel insecure.

"Dude, you look like you're about to murder someone," Jungwon pointed out, with a knowing look on his mischievous face.

"Fuck off," the younger replied without missing a beat, causing his friend to let out an offended gasp, resting a hand on his chest.

"Hey! No swearing at your seniors!" Jungwon exclaimed but Riki wasn't paying attention to him.

Instead, his eyes were locked on your figure, watching you from where he stood as you stood beside you boyfriend, who had an arm possessively wrapped around your waist. Riki snorted under his breath, knowing the only reason why he did that was to avoid anyone from looking at you for a second longer.

Fortunately for Riki, he was hidden in the other's blind spot, giving him an uninterrupted view of the source of his wet dreams and someone who he jerks off to.

As if sensing someone's intense gaze on you, his captain looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with him. The two boys stared down at one another, both unwilling to look away and to let the other person win.

To further ignite the flames, your boyfriend had the audacity to grab your chin, turning you to face him. Riki could see the mild surprise on you before he kissed you, right in front of everyone. Some of his teammates made loud, fake gagging noises. Some started cheering and whistling, behaving like the immature boys they are.

Jungwon whistled, impressed with the bold stunt the captain pulled. Riki, on the other hand, was seething with anger. He narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched and fists clenched so hard his knuckles were turning white. He knew what your boyfriend was doing—trying to rile him up. As much as he hated to admit it, it was working.

To make matters worse, he maintained eye contact with Riki the entire time—from before he kissed you to after he broke the kiss. The soccer player nearly sees red when the captain threw him a smug, cocky smirk—taunting him.

Bet you wish you could kiss her huh.

Riki's limbs moved before his mind could processed. He took a step forward, ready to punch the grin right off the other's face but Jungwon was quick to interfere. The older stepped in front of Riki, right arm thrown out to block off his path.

"Jungwon, back off," Riki hissed.

Jungwon turned to him. "Are you crazy!? Do you want to cause a scene and risk sitting out on the competition? I know you like her but don't do something stupid and reckless."

The younger paused at the mention of the competition. He knows Jungwon is right and how he needs to remain on his good behavior for the next four days. It took all of his remaining self-discipline to cool down, forcefully ripping his eyes away from you and your boyfriend, like the sight physically burns him.

"Understood," he said through gritted teeth, turning around to storm to where his duffel bag was, pointedly ignoring the exasperated sigh Jungwon let out.

Riki grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder, walking away from the field without sparing anyone a second glance. If he did turn around, he would have noticed the way your eyes remained fixated on his retreating figure.

He would have noticed the way you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wanting to go after him but was stopped by your boyfriend.

Too bad Riki was busy simmering in anger and jealousy to notice anything.

~

The next four days of intense, harsh and grueling practice passed in a blink of an eye. Their coach show no mercy to the team, constantly pushing them over their limits as he barked instructions at them. But deep down, everyone knew that the coach simply meant well for the team and that he wants them to win the competition.

Riki spend most of his time on field, which meant he's in the same breathing space as his captain and this meant he was able to see you as well. Which was a win-win situation. But what he hated the most is the sight of you wearing someone else's jersey, with your boyfriend's number on your back.

His stomach twist and turned into itself whenever he sees you seated among the crowd, with a wide smile on your face as you cheered at the top of your lungs. He hated how you never looked at him, eyes always following your boyfriend—someone who doesn't deserve your attention, time and effort.

He hated how he had to witness the revolting sight of you running towards him, followed by your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend lifting you up into the air before kissing you right in front of everyone to show you belong to him.

Currently, Riki and his teammates were in the locker room as they were changing into their jerseys to get ready for the competition. The boy sat on one of the wooden long benches in the locker room, a damp towel hanging over his head as he looked down at the floor with his elbows resting on his thighs.

It's a routine he does every time before stepping onto the field—to clear his mind, getting rid of any form of unnecessary thoughts. The surroundings were tuned out until they were nothing but white noise to him until his ears registered an annoyingly familiar voice that made his left eye twitched before he could help it.

"So, have you done anything with your girlfriend yet?" One of his teammates ask the captain.

The captain snorts. "Not yet. Every time I try to do something, she always say no. What a pussy."

Riki clenched his fists and on his right, he saw Jungwon shooting him a worried look. The younger pointedly faced the front, staring at the boring, dull gray wall like it was the most fascinating thing in the world while eavesdropping on the conversation, his focus interrupted, much to his frustration.

Three to four teammates who were gathered around the captain laughed like he had said something hilarious. And then, one of them spoke up in a tone that sent shivers down Riki's spine.

"Bet she'd sound good when you fuck her."

That comment alone made Riki see red. He stood up, ripping the towel away from his pitch-black hair, clutching it in his left hand as he stalked towards the group of boys, who were busy sniggering and laughing while making lewd and offensive comments about you.

Their voices died down when Riki stood before them, his tall frame hovering over them and with the dim lights shining down on him, it made him looked intimidating.

The group of boys shared glances among themselves, having a bad feeling of what was about to happen but the captain merely looked up and flashed Riki an infuriating smirk, leaning back to lean against the locker behind him.

"Yes, Nishimura? Need something?" He drawled.

At this point, everyone's eyes were on the two of them, sensing the growing and thickening tension lingering in the locker room. Riki glared down from where he stood, hands resting by his sides. He didn't say a thing, lunging at the captain with incredible speed. He was able to catch the other off-guard to deliver a hard, strong punch right in his face, nearly breaking his nose.

Baam!

The captain's body roughly collided against the locker behind him as he shouted in pain, clutching onto his sore nose with his eyes squeezed shut. The other boys quickly scramble away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

Riki didn't give him time to regain his bearings, stepping closer to grab the captain by the collar, easily lifted him up and slammed him into the lockers, leaving his legs helplessly dangling in the air.

"You fucking piss me off every time you open that mouth of yours, you know that?" Riki hissed, lowering his voice an octave lower so only the captain can hear him. He's well-aware of how some of his teammates had pulled out their phones, recording it to upload the clip onto the Internet later.

The captain was confused for a moment but realization dawned on him a few seconds later. A slow sly smirk stretched across his face, still having the balls to act all cocky despite the odds were clearly against him.

"Oh? Is this about (Name)? I know you like her but too bad she's mine," he sneered, having the time of his life watching how Riki narrowed his eyes, his gaze turning more intense.

In response, Riki shoved him further against the locker, causing it to squeak and groan behind him but the two boys didn't care.

"I'll watch my mouth if I were you," Riki warned—threatened him. "Just because you're the principal's son doesn't mean I can't beat you up. What? You gonna run to your daddy and cry to him that you got your pathetic ass kicked?"

The captain's grin fell and this time, it was his turn to be angered by Riki's words. The younger merely smirked, cocking his head to the side. "What? Cat got your tongue now?"

The captain threw a weak, measly punch at him but Riki merely dodged it by moving his head to the side, allowing him to hit nothing but air. Riki retaliate by kneeing him in the stomach, drawing a pained gasp from him as he hunched over slightly, hands now clutching his sides. The soccer player's ears registered the whispers and murmurs behind him but he paid them no mind. He moved, about to punch him again—

"What the hell is going on?"

Everyone stilled.

They turned to the door, where their coach was standing. His face had turned black, looking at the sight before him in sheer disbelief and anger, like he couldn't believed what he was seeing. The coach went unusually silent, opening his mouth, on the verge of exploding but he thought the better of it, choosing to address everyone instead.

"All of you, get ready and get out there. The match's about to start soon. I want all of you to bring back a trophy when it's over."

The team obediently nodded their heads, not daring to say anything that might cause their coach to snap at any moment. He merely gave them one more glance before leaving, allowing the team to quickly stepped out. Riki threw the captain a final warning glare and released his grip, watching as he ungracefully toppled to the floor without any form of remorse.

Riki was about to leave but stopped on the spot when the captain called out to him.

"Hope you know she'll never choose you," he said and Riki nearly burst out laughing, finding it nidicolous but he didn't show any emotions, not wanting to give himself away.

He merely looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with him. "I won't be so sure of that, captain."

Without waiting for his response, Riki left, fueled with newfound determination to steal you away from that arrogant boyfriend of yours. It was only a matter of time before you finally belong to him.

~

To no one's surprise, they won the match and left with a huge gold trophy and to commemorate the joyous occasion, the captain has hosted a campus-wide party at his place.

Due to him being the principal's son, of course he has his own place and of course he's rich enough to afford living on the wealthier side of the neighborhood.

Everyone on campus are rich since it is a rich kids academy but your boyfriend is on a another league of his own. Riki pulled up at the venue with Jungwon—who had shamelessly demanded to be picked up, as he was too lazy to drive over, much to the younger boy's annoyance. The moment they got out, they were able to hear the loud, slightly muffled sounds of music being blasted from the speakers.

The captain's private property was filled to the brim with a sea of people. Most of them were unfamiliar faces to Riki but he could spot some faces who he recognized as he entered. Everyone's eyes instantly turned to him. Jungwon stepped closer to nudge his elbow against him, a cheeky grin on his cute, round face.

Riki is the walking and literal definition of a fashion show. He's dressed in a black turtleneck with a black leather jacket donned over it. He wore a pair of washed jeans that further accentuated his already long legs, making him looked as tall as always. His fingers was covered in a wide variety of silver rings that glimmered whenever he made hand movements, catching people's attention.

However, they weren't you.

"Look at you, the center of attention again," he teased.

Riki rolled his eyes but the way his lips curved up in a smile says otherwise. "Shut up, it's not my fault I'm popular."

Jungwon snorted at his comment. "Other guys will kill to be in your spot."

"Too bad for them then."

His friend muttered something inaudible under his breath but Riki paid him no mind. He scans the sea of people, trying to search for a certain someone and when he finally found you, he stopped walking, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

There you were—wearing a sleeveless dress that looks sinful on you. You haven't noticed him yet, giving him the perfect chance to admire (and maybe drool, like the horny loser he is) you from where you stood.

You were talking to two girls who he recognized as your friends while holding a shotglass in your left hand. Riki cursed in his mind at how he felt his jeans tightening as he struggle to think of something else.

"Ain't no way you're getting hard now," Jungwon scrunched his nose in disgust at how Riki subtly or unsubtly, fixed his jeans.

"Why are you still here? Go find a girl to kiss or fuck," the younger bite back, "before you ask, no, I'm not waiting for you so go home by yourself."

Jungwon gaped, making an offended sound as he watched Riki made a beeline towards you, leaving him alone. As he got closer, he saw your friends pointing in his direction, causing you to turn to him as he stopped before you. Your friends whispered something to you, giggling among themselves before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

"Riki, hey! How you doing?" You greeted him, having to raise your voice a little due to the loud music in the background and to his horror (and giddiness), you opened your arms for a hug.

And who was he to deny such a generous offer from you?

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you and with how close he was, he could get a strong whiff of your perfume—vanilla and fruity. Riki forced himself to step back, very reluctantly dropping his arms as he forced them to lay by his sides, to act like he was a completely normal human being.

A normal human being who jerks off to your pictures you posted on your Instagram account, that is.

"I'm good, did you watch the match?" He asked, internally wincing at how awkward and stupid he sounds. Thankfully, Jungwon wasn't around to see him making a fool of himself.

You didn't question him, to which Riki was grateful for. "Yeah, I did. You did really well, as expected from the Nishimura Riki," you teased him, playfully nudged him. Riki swore he felt the specific part of where you briefly touched him was warmer than usual.

"You were watching me?" He inquired, shooting another question at your bemused look, "what about your boyfriend? How will he react if he finds out you weren't watching him?"

He asked in a light-hearted, playful tone when deep down, he was genuinely curious. He wanted to hear it from you, wondering what your boyfriend had told you.

You pursed your lips, the tip of your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. Riki's eyes zeroed in, nervously swallowing when he felt the familiar sensation of heat shooting straight down to his cock that twitched in the tight restraints of his jeans.

"He plays like he always do, I guess," you answered after a few seconds of pondering, raising your hand to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind your left ear, unaware of how Riki followed the movement with his eyes, like he was a predator and you are the prey.

He hummed, slowly nodding his head. "Is that so? Then, has he told you anything?"

You blinked. "What do you mean?"

Riki stepped closer, loving the way you had to tilt your head up slightly to look at him. "Oh, I don't know. Something related to a particular locker room fight."

Your eyes widened, now on the same wavelength as him. "Oh, that. Yeah, he told me about it. Told me how you made the first move, approached him and started fighting with him out of nowhere."

Riki resist the urge to burst out laughing, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stifle the laughter threatening to slip. You continued speaking and furrowed your eyebrows, oblivious.

"He told me you were saying some… certain remarks about me and—"

"Woah, let's stop right there for a second," he cuts you off, not wanting to hear anymore of it. He raised a hand to silence you when you attempted to speak, only to close your mouth, allowing him to speak without getting interrupted.

"First of all, he's the one who talk about you to his friends. You don't have to know what he says and all I did was to give him a very much deserved punch, that's all," he summarized and shrugged his shoulders.

You stared at him for a few seconds in silence. Seeing this, Riki waved his hand in front of your face.

"Hello? Earth to (Name)?" He called out to you.

You snapped back to reality. "Oh, right. Sorry I was just—!?"

You didn't finish your sentence when someone knocked into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward. The liquor in the shotglass sloshed out, landing on Riki's clothes but he didn't care about his clothes. He was quick to steady you, hands instinctively resting on your hips so you won't face-plant into the ground.

He looked over you, scowling at how it was a drunk guy who could barely walked straight. His friends were quick to apologize on his behalf as they dragged him away from you. Sighing, Riki diverted his focus back to you, noting how your face was awkwardly squashed against his chest.

"You good?" He asked, hands still resting on your waist.

He could only focus on how his fingers were touching around your waist. But before his mind could leave his body, you straightened yourself and quickly stepped back, leaving some distance between you. Riki pointedly ignored the way his stomach churned. You gasped out loud at the sight of his now drenched and sticky clothes.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. If you want, I can lend you my boyfriend's clothes for you to change into," you frantically apologized while pointing to the flight of stairs located in the corner of his eyes.

Now Riki would be nothing but a utter fool if he doesn't take the chance you just gave him—the chance where he can be alone with you. Which was why he agreed, letting you lead the way as he followed you up the stairs. Every step he took made the music and noise died down until it was completely quiet.

You opened the first door on your left and he followed you in. One look around and he was able to tell it's your boyfriend's room. Riki stood near the closed door, observing you as you opened the closet to dig for clothes. With your back facing him, he drew closer, directly standing behind you in with his chest pressed against your back.

You went still. "..Riki, what are you doing?" You asked, voice trembling at the end. The slip-up made him smirked.

"Nothing, don't mind me, sweetheart. Continue," he drawled, boldly resting his left hand on your waist, savoring the startled gasp you let out and how your body leaned into his touch.

You clutched onto a sleeve of a shirt to ground yourself, shivers running down your spine at how he proceeded to rest his chin on your left shoulder. This is wrong. You have a boyfriend, for fuck's sake but despite that, you made no move to push him away.

Like a part of you want this. Want him.

The thought itself made his head spin. A part of him wants to take you right there and then—to fuck you in your boyfriend's bed, making you scream and chant his name until everyone can hear it. Hear you saying his name. Another part of him wants to keep that side to himself, not wanting anyone else to hear it.

Riki forcefully ripped himself away, taking a step back to give you some space. He watched as your shoulders loosened when you no longer felt him hovering behind you.

You grabbed a clean shirt and a pair of pants with your borderline shaking hands, giving it to him without looking at him. Chuckling, he accepted it and pointedly cleared his throat when you refused to turn around.

"Are you planning on staying here while I change?" He teased.

You spun on your heels, revealing your red cheeks and ears. "W-What? No! Go change in the bathroom, don't change here!" You protested.

Riki laughed, amused with your reaction. "I'm kidding. I won't do that," he paused for a second, eyes twinkling in mischief, "unless you wanna see?"

"Riki!"

He continued laughing as you attempt to push him towards the door but he didn't budge an inch, due to him being taller and stronger than you. The boy snickered, reaching out to ruffle your hair, to which you slapped his hand away.

Riki was unfazed, dropping his hand and headed to the door. His hand hovered midair, fingers brushing against the handle before looking over his shoulder.

"By the way, you look pretty in the dress," he complimented and stepped out before you could say anything, leaving you standing in your boyfriend's room, staring at him with wide eyes, flushed cheeks and your heart skipping a beat at his sincere words.

What the hell just happened?

~

The weekend passed and to every student's nightmare, it was Monday again. Time slipped through your fingers with you being productive in your lectures as you took down notes, like the diligent and hardworking student you are.

You even managed to spend your free time making notes for your upcoming examinations before it was your term break. Right now, you were waiting for your boyfriend in the library on campus with your headphones blocking out the surrounding noises.

You were so focused in your current task that you were unaware of someone approaching your table. The only form of warning you got was a tall figure blocking the ceiling lights before they removed your headphones, pulling it away from your head. Your head snapped up, ready to tell them off, only to pause when it's none other than Riki himself.

But what caught your attention is his hair.

It's still the same as before—in the same shade of pitch-black darkness but there was something different. There's a stark silver streak that cuts through the front, starting near the roots and breaking through the rest of his hair, like a scar of moonlight. Riki noticed your prolonged silence and how you stared at him.

Of course he did. He notice everything when it comes to you.

He chose to act innocent, still holding your headphones in his right hand. "What's wrong? Something on my face?" He inquired.

You awkwardly cleared your throat, fidgeting in your seat as you slung your right leg over your left while fiddling with your pen. "No, not at all. I just didn't expect the sudden change of your hair."

Humming, Riki sat opposite of you, even though he didn't ask. But it's not like you will kick him out anyways.

"Ah, I wanted something different before the term break starts. What do you think?" He replied, returning your headphones and your fingers accidentally brushed as you reached out.

Time paused and everything else around you stilled. You couldn't looked away from Riki, maintaining eye contact with him with your headphones now acting as the connecting bridge to link the two of you together. All you could focused on is the heat emitted from his fingertips, his intense and unwavering puma-like gaze and how his eyes darkened a shade.

Your breath hitched with how he traced your features with his eyes, showing no ounce of shame. Heck, he wasn't even hiding it to begin with. Somehow, the thought of him wanting you despite how you're taken made heat pooled in your stomach as you rubbed your thighs together. You frantically shook your head, getting rid of the thought.

What you didn't know was how Riki smirked to himself, knowing what you were thinking with how you oh so subtly squeezed your thighs underneath the table. He came to the library after overhearing your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend stating he's going somewhere with his friends, completely tossing you—his girlfriend, aside.

If you're dating Riki, this won't happen. Riki will make sure to spend his time with you, never wanting to leave you alone.

He was the first to break the moment, leaning back into his seat with his long legs stretched out before him.

"So, what are you working on?" He asked, jutting his chin towards your study materials laid out before you.

"Oh, it's nothing much. Just taking notes for my finals," you answered before narrowing your eyes as you pointed your pen at him, "don't you have finals too?"

Riki raised his hands in mock surrender, lips curled up in a smile. "Guilty as charged. I was wondering if you could tutor me."

"Tutor you?" You echoed, letting out a shocked, breathless laugh. "Riki, you're the most smartest person I know. Why do you need tutoring?"

"What's wrong with wanting to be more prepared for finals? Besides, is it wrong to ask the smartest student who always tops the entire cohort?" He pointed out.

You didn't know how to respond to that, knowing he was right and sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine, when do you want to start?"

"How about now? We can head over to my place. It's quieter there and I live alone, so you don't have to worry about people disturbing us," he proposed.

"Now?" You repeated, your eyebrows flying up so high they nearly disappeared into your hairline. "I'm supposed to meet my boyfriend."

Something akin to annoyance flickered across his face but it was gone when you blinked. "He wants me to pass you a message. Said he'll be going somewhere with his friends so he's not coming over."

You pursed your lips, pulling out your phone to check and there wasn't any messages from him. You wanted to say something but you felt your resolve vanishing when you saw Riki giving you wide, pleading eyes with his lips jutted out in a pout.

"..Fine, let's go then," you agreed.

Grinning, Riki helped you to pack up. Before you could carry your bag, he had carried it for you, slinging it over his shoulder without a care in the world as he walked ahead of you, leaving the library to where his car was parked.

"I can carry that myself," you said, wanting to snatch it back but Riki merely raised your bag up into the air, out of your reach.

"No can do. Let me do this for you," he clicked his tongue.

"Nishimura Riki."

"(Full Name)," he answered without hesitation, matching your tone just to be annoying.

You scowled as you caught up to him. "What's wrong with you? Why are you doing all of this?"

Riki stopped out of a sudden. You swore under your breath as you nearly crashed into him.

"You still don't get it?" He asked, voice strangely even and steady.

"Get what? Stop talking in riddles and just get straight to the point, Riki," you demand, frustration seeping into your voice.

Riki fully turned to face you and you were taken aback with how serious he looked—a huge contrast to his usual confident and laid-back demeanor he often carried himself in.

This was different, like this truly mean something to him. You dryly swallowed as he began speaking, or rambling, letting out his pent-up feelings he had been harboring for months.

"Every time I see you with him, it makes me sick. Why choose him, out of everyone else? Why settle for someone who doesn't even love you?" He started off, raising his voice slightly as he speaks, gripping onto the strap of your bag that was slung over his left shoulder.

You openly gaped. "What the fuck are you talk—"

"Are you blinded by love to the point that you'll settle for the bare minimum? Settle for someone who doesn't see you as an equal. Settle for someone who keeps brushing you off and parade you around like you're an item," he continued, cutting you off.

He couldn't stop now, not when you had unlocked the Paradox's Box.

"Riki—"

"Seeing you, someone who deserves so much more, going for a piece of fucking scum," he paused briefly, grabbing onto the front of his shirt—right where his heart was, "it hurts, a lot."

"Riki, wai—"

He steps forward. You retreated back but he followed.

This went on until your back hits the firm, smooth surface of a wall behind you. Riki braced his arms on both sides of you, blocking off any exit routes. Your heart betrayed you by skipping a beat at how tall he was, towering over you and how with his larger frame, he can completely engulfed you easily.

You parted your lips but your voice died down in your throat when he roughly tilted your chin up with his left hand, his thumb hovering over your bottom lip, not touching but you could feel his touch. You let out a soft, startled gasp when he harshly tugged on your hair, forcing you to further tilt your head back until your muscles start to ache in protest.

"Seriously, Riki, what's gotte—!?"

"Shut up and listen to me," he growled, the sound low and deep, causing you to clench down on invisible air and your knees buckled, threatening to give way.

You weren't sure what it was. Maybe it's the way he spoke, in that cruel and firm tone, like you were beneath him, like you're supposed to listen to him. Maybe it's the way he looked down at you, using his height to his advantage. Whatever it was, you let out an involuntary whimper before you could stop yourself.

Both of you stilled.

Riki reacted first—a slow, knowing and cunning smirk stretched across his lips. Like he had you all figured out. He gave a light, experimental tug on your hair, to test the water and just like before, another whimper fell from your lips. The taller chuckled, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

You knew what he's doing. He's making you begged for it and honestly, with how you were already dripping between your legs.

"Say it," he demands, now firmly pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. He watched with smugness at how you willingly let him do as he pleased, letting him tugged your bottom lip down.

"Say you want me."

Your eyelids fluttered shut, mind going hazy. Riki waits, like the patient man he is. After all, he has waited long enough to have you like this so waiting for a few more seconds won't hurt him.

"I.." You whispered, like it's a sacred secret meant for just the two of you. Riki arched an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

"I want you."

You have the front-row seat of witnessing his eyes darkening a shade, desire written all over his face after you said it, giving him the consent for what he's about to do to you. For a moment, you thought he will jump on you right there and then—out in the open, in the hallway where anyone can walk in at any second.

But he retreated, fingers purposely tracing your jawline before dropping his hands. Your fingers twitched at your sides, tempted to pull him back. You felt cold out of a sudden, no longer feeling the heat emitted from his body.

"Not here," he murmured, eyes darting left and right to check for anyone and when no one was around, he crowded you against the wall again, savoring the gasp you let out.

You felt something thick and hard poking against your inner thighs, making you bit down on your lip, wondering how he will feel when he's inside you. Riki smirked, cupping your face up, forcing you to look at him.

"But when we get back, I'll make sure you'll only think of me once I'm done with you. And that, is a promise I intend to keep," he warns you, sending shivers down your spine at the implication behind his words.

~

The drive back to his place was quiet in a tense way. There was so much tension that you felt like it was suffocating you, the air curling itself around you while waiting in the shadows.

Riki didn't say a word, one hand on the steering wheel while the other firmly on your right thigh. Every time you look down, you gulped at how huge his hand looked on your thigh.

He didn't glance or speak to you the entire time, even after he had parked his car. Even when he led the way to the lift. Even when he brought you to the door leading to his home.

The moment you stepped in, all hell broke loose.

"Wha—!?"

You gasped out, vision shaking at the edges when you were slammed against the nearest wall surface, only for your lips to be captured in a passionate, intense kiss. Riki kissed you like he wants to devour you whole—from inside and outside.

He kissed you like he needs you to survive, to breathe. His hands never stay still, wandering around your body as he greedily mapped and traced your silhouette, leaving lingering heat and warmth behind in his trail.

You mewled into his mouth when he gave a tight, possessive squeeze at your hips, wanting to squeeze your thighs but Riki slotted his right, solid thigh between your legs, forcing you to keep them open. Your lips parted, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head when you felt his cock perfectly aligned against your wet core.

"Feel that? That's what you do to me," he rasps, slinging your right leg to hook it around his waist, giving an experimental thrust up, grinning against your lips at the breathless, choked-out moan you let out.

"Ngh, Riki!" You cried out, throwing your head back, breaking the kiss to reveal your neck and it's only right for him to follow suit.

You arched your back off the wall, pressing your chest against his as he trailed hot and wet kisses down. Riki stopped at a particular area, his hot breath fanning against it before he sank his teeth into your skin, hard enough to leave a bite mark behind. A physical claim to show you belong to him.

"Fuck, you drive me crazy. Been wanting you like this ever since I first saw you," he groaned, the sound low and guttural, making your head spin.

You began moving your hips forward slowly, moaning at the delirious friction of your sticky panties rubbing against the rough surface of his gray pants. Riki didn't stop you but instead, he encourage you by flexing his thigh against your soaked pussy while he continued decorating your neck with hickeys and marks.

"Oh f-fuck," you shamelessly moaned, not caring how loud you were and how his neighbors might be able to hear you. All you cared was how you were embarrassingly close to reaching your climax.

Riki smirked, pulling back to look at you, eyes drinking in the sight of your flushed face and cheeks, your half-lidded eyes, your pretty, kissable and swollen lips.

All of it made you looked downright sinful—the exact opposite of how you normally were on campus. He repositioned his hands so now both were gripping onto your waist, bypassing the barricade of your clothes.

Your body visibly flinched at the feeling of his large, warm and calloused hands touching your bare skin, causing more slick to drip from your pussy. You were so wet that there's a visible wet stain left behind. Seeing this, Riki chuckled as leaned closer, angling his head to the side to whisper into your right ear.

"Look at you, humping my thigh like you're a dog in heat. How would your boyfriend react if he sees you like this?" He coos, faux sweetness dripping in his voice.

His crude words and condescending tone only made you grind faster, your movements growing sloppier and more frantic when you felt your stomach tightening. Riki noticed the way your breathing grew ragged, the way your shoulders rise and fell unevenly and how you kept moaning and whining, which is music to his ears.

"Wanna cum just like that?" He barked out a laugh, moving you when he saw how you were slowing down.

"Mhm! Pleasepleaseplease," you pleaded oh so prettily for him.

"Then cum for me, princess. Wanna see you soak my thigh," he groaned and you shattered, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as violent tremors coursed through your body.

Riki didn't give you time to regain your bearings, easily swooping you into his arms, drawing a squeak from you. You instinctively threw your arms around his broad, sturdy shoulders as he brought you to his bedroom with the door already opened. He threw you onto his messy bed and was quick to clamber over you for a kiss.

You met him in the middle, hands flying into his hair as you tugged on him, drawing a low, satisfied purr from the back of his throat. You parted your lips, spreading your legs wider to accommodate his taller and large frame as he situated himself between them. Riki sensually slides his tongue against yours before exploring every inch of your mouth, ensuring nothing is left untouched.

He hum as he grabbed the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric up until it's near your neck. You were forced to break the kiss only for a second, allowing him to remove it. Riki tossed it to the floor before kissing you again, practically slamming his lips against yours.

He didn't bother unbuckling your bra, forcefully pulling it down to free your breasts as they bounced free from the restraints.

You let out a muffled whine at the cool air against your hardened nipples. Riki broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours with you two breathing in the same space. He sharply inhaled as his eyes trailed down, raising his right hand to give a gentle squeeze to your right breast, kneading it like it's soft dough.

"Fuck," you sighed, leaning your head back, allowing yourself to be pushed back until you were now laying on his bed, with his pillow underneath your head.

Riki paused for a moment to take in the sight of you—shirtless, panting with looks that could rival against the goddess, like Aphrodite. His fingers twitched, tempted to take a picture but an idea hit him. Confusion appeared on your face when he slide off the bed without explaining.

You raised your head slightly, observing as he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his pants. He moved to the bedside table situated on the left, opened the Camera app and switched it to video mode. You watched as he expertly placed it an an angle to capture your lower half, your face out of the frame. But despite that, you felt embarrassed that he's recording it.

"What are you doing?" You asked, eyes tracking his movements as he grabbed something from his opened closet before moving back to the bed, placing himself between your legs. You wordlessly raised your hips when he patted twice on your thighs, allowing him to tug your pants down, leaving you in your soaked, utterly ruined white cotton panties.

Your ears turned red when he muttered "cute" under his breath. You tried to close your legs but Riki held you down, throwing you a pointed, warning look, leaving you no choice but to leave them spread open for him.

"Wear it," he instructs you while holding out the bunched up fabric in his left hand. You recognized what it was with the red jersey with his name imprinted on the back, along with his position number.

"This…" Your voice trailed off as you accepted it, staring at the jersey like you've never seen it before.

Riki smirked, moving to hover over you while tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his dark and lust-filled eyes. "I want you to wear my jersey while I fuck you. Don't worry, your face won't be recorded in the video. It's for me to keep it. I'm not letting anyone else see you like this."

He paused, letting his words sink in before leaning closer to brush his lips against yours, your breaths mingling and intertwining together.

"I want you to remember I'm the one who's fucking you. Not that shitty boyfriend of yours. Not anyone else either," he continued, lowering his voice until it's in that rich deep tone that made your heart fluttered.

Feeling shy out of a sudden, you looked to the side but Riki didn't like that. With a click of his tongue, he grabbed your chin, directing you to face him with him hovering over you.

"Don't look away. I want you to look at me, got it?" He asks and you wordlessly nodded your head.

"Use your words, baby. I want to hear you."

"Y-Yes, I got it," you whispered, watching the way he looks proud at your response.

"Now wear the jersey."

You obeyed, putting it on with your shaking hands as you slipped it over your body. The jersey is way bigger than you, completely engulfing you in it with the hem reaching your upper thighs. Riki stilled, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight before him. He nearly stopped breathing at how good you looked in his jersey. But more importantly…

"You look like you're mine," he swore, breathing ragged, sounding out of breath like he had ran a marathon.

Seeing the effect you have on him with you just wearing his jersey drew a soft whimper from you. You fidget about on the sheets, feeling nervous being on the receiving end of his firm and unwavering gaze.

"Riki, please.. do something," you whispered.

The boy chuckled, finding it cute. "Lay back, baby. All you need to do is to stay still and look pretty for me."

You complied, laying back down on the bed.

"Good girl," he praised you, eyes never leaving your face.

What the fuck.

A needy keen left your lips without you knowing at his sudden praise. Hearing it, Riki arched an eyebrow, mentally filing that aside for future purposes. Right now, he has a more important task to focus on—the task of getting his first ever taste of you. The boy shifted down until he's supporting his weight with his elbows.

He threw your legs over his shoulders, ignoring the surprised noise you let out. Your mind blanked out at the first hot, wet and rough long, slow and deliberate lick of his tongue, starting from damp, smooth entrance to your throbbing, aching clit. It's filthy, with Riki using his tongue to spread your remaining slick from your previous climax all over your pussy, making it even more messier than it already was.

"F-Fuck!" You cried out, back arching off the bed in an impressive arch that could put even the crescent moon into shame. You blindly fist the sheets beneath you, nails digging into it—a poor attempt to ground yourself.

Spurred by your expressive reaction, Riki continued. He dive in like a man on a mission, like he had been craving, yearning for this for many years. It's sloppy, rushed and intense. It's clear all he cares now is to bring you to your second climax, wanting to have your taste on his tongue.

He ate you out with sheer focus and determination, using his thumb and index finger to spread your fat, puffy pussy lips apart. Riki slid his tongue in and out, repeating the pace he sets while you were being reduced to a flushed, trembling and sensitive mess, all thanks to his skillful tongue.

"Shit, you taste so good. Should've done this sooner. Bet your boyfriend doesn't know how good you taste," he groaned, sounding like he was in heaven and he is.

If he could choose a way to die, he'd rather die with his face buried between your legs. To him, your slick tastes like sweet poison or some sort of drugs he could never get enough of. You clenched down on his tongue at his words, making him grinned smugly.

"You didn't let him eat this pretty little pussy, did you?" He asks, pulling away, drawing a sound of protest from you as the cool air of the room brushed against you.

You didn't speak, simply staring at him. Riki clicked his tongue, dissatisfied with your lack of response and delivered a sharp, light but stinging slap to your pussy, right in the middle. The sound echoed in the four walls of the bedroom.

You whimpered, your pussy pathetically twitched at the sudden rough attention.

"I asked you a question. Answer me."

"N-No!" You cried out, hating how his stern personality and the way he treats you—like your only purpose was to satisfy him was turning you on.

Riki hummed, pleased. "Good, I don't want anyone else to do this to you. You're mine."

He snarled the last two words, possessive seeping into his voice. Hearing him like this—all worked up and how jealous he was made your pussy throbbed, both at the lack of attention and his evident jealousy.

You briefly wondered: just when did he learned this? But the thought flew out of your mind when he pushed two fingers into your pink, twitching hole until he's knuckles-deep in. You could feel the cold, smooth metal surfaces of his rings pressed against your outer lips.

Riki moaned at how you clamped down on him with a vice-like grip—showing no signs of letting him go, the sound muffled with how his face was practically buried deep between your thighs.

Your mind didn't register the fact you were aimlessly rambling random nonsense now, saying words that sounded like please, more, Riki and so on. Whatever it was, it seems to do the trick, with how he expertly curled his fingers, brushing it against that delicate spongy spot hidden between your delicate walls.

His action made you see stars exploding behind your eyelids, mouth dropping open with a silent, high-pitched moan leaving your lips. Riki pushed forward until your lower half was now dangling in the air with his nose bumping against your clit, drawing a series of whines and whimpers from you.

"S-Stop. C-Can't," you weakly protested, trying to push him away but it was futile.

Riki snarled, like a cat baring its teeth at you at your rejection. "Yes you can. And you will take what I give you."

A part of you want to sob, to throw a fit that you seriously can't cum again but another part of you want to be good for him, want him to treat you like this—manhandle you around like you're a rag-doll, going all pliant while letting him do as he pleased.

Riki continued eating you out like a starved man, the obscene sounds of his lips loudly smacking against your clit. He swirled the bud peeking out with the tip of his tongue in a agonizingly slow, clockwise motion that has your legs twitching. You cried out for the unknown time when he wrapped his lips around the bud, almost like he's about to tear it off your pussy.

The wet, slimey muscle explored every inch and you were able to feel his purrs and moans, sending vibrations up your spine. You ended up locking your legs around his neck, holding him in place as he alternated between pumping his fingers in and out of you and moving them in a scissors-like movement when he's deep inside you.

You were dripping so much that the sheets were soaked and ruined beyond recognition. Riki didn't care that your slick was trickling down his chin, not caring that there were stains left behind. All he care about was pushing you to your second climax.

"S-Stop—ngh, g-gonna cum," you whined, one hand clutching the pillow while the other grabbed a fistful of his hair as you desperately rocked your hips against his skillful, talented mouth. The lingering thought of him recording you had already flew out of your mind.

Riki tapped your inner thigh twice with his free hand, giving you permission. All it took was a long, flat swipe against your entrance for you to violently squirt against his mouth. The boy drank it up, treating it like sweet nectar from flowers as he lapped away, not wanting to waste a single drop.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He groaned, pulling back to reveal his lips and chin practically glowing from the sheer amount of slick stained on the lower half of his face.

Without breaking eye contact, his tongue darted out, wetting his already damp, thick and puffy lips before the pink muscle retreated into his mouth.

Your face turned as red as a tomato at how lewd he looks, like something straight out of a cheap porno video. Riki shifted up, cupping your face with both his hands and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on your lips.

You moaned, instantly parting your lips, body flinching at a particular harsh suck on your tongue, drawing a muffled whine from you. You blindly moved your hands about, slipping them underneath his hoodie to trace the faint outlines of his abs, feeling them contract at your touch beneath your fingerpads.

Riki nipped at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue against the seam of your lips as a form of apology. He shivered against your lips as your hands went beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, playing with the hem of his Chrome Hearts boxers.

"You're a fucking tease," he growled but his lips curved upward in a soft, loving smile at the giggle you let out.

"Wanna suck you off," you murmured, hearing an audible, muffled groan from him.

"You sure?" He asks, breaking the kiss as he lets you push him backward until your positions are swapped.

He's now laying on the bed, head near the edge while you straddle his lap, looking like a wet dream with his jersey hanging off your right shoulder. You nodded your head, leaning down to kiss him again and he eagerly reciprocate it, hissing into your mouth when you teasingly rolled your hips against his, feeling his clothed cock rocking against your overly-sensitive pussy.

Riki lifted his hips off the bed, allowing you to pull both his boxers and sweatpants down. You tossed them aside, not caring where it landed. His cock sprung free, laying flat against his stomach with his hoodie pushed up, the fabric brunched around his chest.

You paused for a second, taking in the sight of the tip of his cock already in a ferocious shade of reddish-purple, due to the lack of attention.

"Scared?" Riki asked, noting your prolonged silence and how you kept staring at it with wide eyes and poorly hidden surprise.

"N-No, just didn't expect you to be this big," you replied without hesitation, tucking your hair behind your ears as you shifted down, moving into a more comfortable position.

Riki watched with bated breath as your lips hovered near the tip, your hot breath grazing against it. You glanced at him, leaning forward to press a light, fleeting kiss, watching how his hips jerked upward, cock gliding against your lips. You took the chance to take him whole, lips wrapped around his cock like you're sucking a lollipop.

"Oh fuck," Riki groaned, head thrown back with his eyes fluttering shut at how tight and warm your mouth felt.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him as you moved forward. This is how he finds out you don't have a gag reflex, with how you easily took him whole until the tip hit the back of your throat. Riki reached out, right hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, using it like the reins—like you're a horse and he's a cowboy.

"S-Shit, takin' me so well," he rasps, voice cracking at the edges with how you began bobbing your head back and forth, one hand reaching between to fondle with his heavy, cum-filled balls.

Riki canted his hips into your mouth, savoring the muffled, startled moan you made and he felt your jaw slackened, he wasted no time in fucking into your mouth while you laid there—between his legs, letting him used you to chase after his incoming orgasm. Tears prickled your eyes as you readjusted your hands to rest them on his muscular thighs.

"So good for me, aren't you? Lettin' me use your mouth like a cockslut," he sneers, subtly shivering at how you moaned with your lips obscenely stretched wide around his cock and how a stray tear droplet rolled down your cheek.

He lifted his head slightly when he saw your hand between your legs and realization hits him. He barks out a dark, degrading laugh.

"Greedy little thing, touching yourself while getting your mouth fucked. You like this, don't you?" He coos, watching as you tried your best to nod your head while looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Riki didn't warn you as he spilled down your throat. You didn't gagged on the tangy, salty taste of his thick cum, swallowing all of it while not letting a single drop roll down your chin.

You withdrew your head with a soft, audible "pop" sound as you rested your chin on his left upper thigh, your lips now looking extremely bruised and swollen, like you had been mauled around by a beast, which wasn't far from the truth.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, cupping your chin upward and you obliged, parting your lips. You let him turned your head side to side and his cock hardens immediately at how you swallowed everything.

His eyes darkened a shade as he swore under his breath. He roughly tugged you forward, making you let out a startled yelp as your hands landed on his chest to avoid knocking your head against his, forcing you to straddle his lap.

"C'mon, ride me, pretty girl," he said, folding his hands behind his head as he watched you, having no intentions of helping you out.

You threw him a glare at how unhelpful he was as you raised yourself up while aligning him against your gaping, empty hole. Riki's eyes zeroed in on how you rubbed his tip against your outer lips, how you shuddered and how you let out a long sigh at the feeling. Biting down on your bottom lip, you slowly sank down, taking him inch by inch until he's fully sheathed in you.

Both of you moaned in unison at the heavenly feeling. You felt like you were being split apart and you swore you could feel him hitting the back of your throat too, with how big, long and thick he is. Riki's phone was still recording, capturing your back view as you rose up until his tip was still inside you before you slammed down, your thighs and asscheeks jiggling.

"Fuck, you're too—hah—b-big," you whimpered, head thrown back as you repeat the movement—raising yourself up before going down on him, riding him at the pace you set.

Riki hissed at how you tightened around him, thumb rubbing your clit while matching your pace, drawing a series of whines and moans from you. He rested his other hand on your hips, nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave imprints behind.

"Big? But you're takin' me so well. You're made for this. For me," he taunted and in a blink of an eye, he surged forward, easily switching your positions.

Your vision spun. One moment you were riding him. The next, you were on your back. Riki threw your legs over his shoulders, bending you forward into a mating press position as he jackhammer into you at a ruthless and merciless pace.

Your legs dangled uselessly in the air. The bedframe loudly smacked against the wall behind it with every thrust. You were certain his neighbors will be launching a noise complaint tomorrow.

The thought flew out of your mind when he shifted his hips slightly, his cock hitting that one spongy spot, making you moaned as you arched your back as you curled your toes, pressing your chest against his. Riki knew he hit bullseye from your reaction, wasting no time in abusing the same spot, over and over. He cupped your face, index and middle finger resting on both sides of your cheeks.

"Open up, doll," he demands and you did, bemused with his intention.

Only for him to spit into your mouth.

It's filthy, like he's claiming you as his. His sudden action made you clenched around him and he closed your lips, watching as you swallowed it without hesitation.

"That's my girl. So good for me, aren't you? Gonna let me fuck this little pussy, hm? Let me make you remember the shape of my cock," he growled, ducking his head to nip at your left earlobe.

You sobbed, unaware of tears now freely rolling down your cheeks, eyes rolling up to the back of your head. Your mouth dropped wide open, forming an "O" shape at how his cock kept sliding in and out of you, reshaping your insides to fit the outline of his cock, like he's forcing your body to remember it belongs to him.

"R-Rik—ngh—m-more—hah," you moaned, nails digging into his shoulder blades, hard enough to leave crescent-moon shaped indents behind.

"Fuck, you're squeezin' me so fuckin' tight. Still tight even after I open you up," he panted against the column of your hickey-covered neck.

His eyes flicked down, noting a faint bulge on your stomach. His bangs fell over his eyes but he's able to see it—the outline of his cock inside you. Riki slowed down, tuning out the weak sound of disappointment you made. He watched, mesmerized at the erotic sight of watching it moved along with him.

Riki moved his left hand and lightly pressed down on it, matching it with the same time as he thrusted into you, gaining a choked out moan from you beneath him.

"You're so small but takin' me so well," he breathed out, mind spinning. He couldn't look away, even when he resumed the brutal pace he set earlier on.

"F-Fuck, g-gonna cum—pleasepleaseplease," you begged, voice all needy, whiny and desperate.

Riki moved to capture your lips in a kiss, although it wasn't a kiss with how you were openly panting against his lips but he didn't care. From his phone's point of view, it's capturing both of your side profiles with your features hidden.

"Yea? Wanna cum, baby?" He cooed, watching how you squeezed your eyes shut but he was quick to give a mean pinch to your clit, chuckling as you flinched from the sudden stimulation.

"Mhm! Please!"

"Then cum, show me you're mine."

With the combination of the possessiveness in his voice and a long, final thrust from him, you cum while chanting his name like a sacred prayer. You cum so hard that your vision blacked out for a few seconds, making you think you had actually passed out on the spot.

Riki fucks you through your orgasm, his own movements growing sloppier as your pussy spasmed violently around his cock, almost like you're sucking him in.

Riki was quick to follow suit, burying himself to the hilt as he painted your gummy, velvety walls in the shade of white. You whimpered at the sudden, uncomfortable feeling of being pumped full of his cock. He didn't pull out, choosing to collapse on top of you, earning an "oof" from you as he was crushing your lungs.

"Get off of me. You're crushing me," you complained, lightly whacking his shoulder but he remains unfazed with your measly attacks, choosing to shamelessly bury his face in the middle of your breasts.

"Nah, I'm comfy here," he mumbled, wriggling about so he could wrap his arms around you as well.

You sighed, resting your hand on his head as you stared at the ceiling. None of you said a thing, spending a few seconds to regain your breathing before you broke it, voice small and hesitant.

"..So, now what? What does this make us?" You asked, glancing down to see he was already looking at you, eyes locked on your face.

"Well, it's simple. You cheated on your boyfriend and now, we're dating," he casually answered.

Your cheeks flushed red at the sudden reminder but instead of feeling embarrassed, you felt strangely proud. It was then you realized that he was right the entire time—your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, had treated you with nothing but disrespect. He didn't see you as a girlfriend. He see you as an item—and the thought itself is enough to make you sick to the core.

"What's in that mind of yours, pretty girl?"

Riki's soft voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked, snapping out of your trance to see his face is close to yours now, with him staring at you, like you're the only one in his world. Clearing your throat, you averted your eyes to the side, choosing to stare at the door instead.

"I was thinking how I'm gonna tell him," you answered.

Riki snorted, turning you back to face him. He leaned in until the tips of your noses brushed against one another. His eyes gleamed in mischief as he smirked, the sight downright attractive, making you clenched down on him.

He felt it. Of course he does, since he didn't pull out yet.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll handle it," he purred and without warning, gave a light thrust, drawing a startled gasp from you.

"But for now, how does another round sound?"

[haechanglazer]

Birthday Sex

Tags: Virgin!Riki, Sub!Riki, RikixReader, Nerd!Riki, dom!reader, fem!reader, experienced!reader, oral (m&f!rec), unprotected piv, making out, hickies/love bites, overstimulation (kinda?) PUSSY DRUNK RIKI🤤, Jake and Sunghoon mentioned

Synopsis: It’s Riki’s birthday and you decide to give him more than just one present…

Author’s note: This took me a few days to write, but will only take you 5-10 mins to read

———————————————

”Bye, thank you for coming.” Riki says, waving the last person of your friend group goodbye before he shuts the front door.

It’s Riki’s birthday today, so he invited the whole friend group over for a tiny celebration dinner. Currently you’re in the living room taking down some balloons that you’d taped to the ceiling and walls.

He joins you in the living room and removes some serpentines from the coffee table.

”Did you get any good presents?” You ask before popping the balloons with one of your nails.

Riki’s eyes light up as he thinks about the presents he got. ”They’re amazing! I got the Millennium Falcon Lego set from Sunghoon and Jake, and —” he goes on to yap about how cool the Lego set is, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at his excitement.

About an hour later the two of you are sitting in the kitchen. He has started building the set now, a sea of gray Lego pieces spread out across the table. That’s when you remember your last gift for him.

Earlier you’d given him a chrome hearts hoodie which he was incredibly grateful for. He’s your best friend after all and you want to spend some money on him. You had also gotten him a limited edition anime figure from an anime you can’t remember the name of.

”I’ll be right back, I have another gift for you.”

”Really?” He looks up at you, hands still building absentmindedly. He mumbles something to himself about you being super kind as you walk out of the kitchen.

You come back into the kitchen holding a tiny box, one that you’d usually put jewelry in. Riki takes it and opens it slowly. His entire face becomes red as he sees the inside.

A singular wrapped condom.

”W-what’s this a-about?” He stutters as he avoids your gaze completely.

”Your final present is me.”

”W-what do you— what do you mean?”

”We’ll have sex, unless you really don’t want to…” you respond. But you know he wants to. Sometimes when you wake up late at night you can hear him jerking off in his room, moaning your name. Other times you’ll see him catching glances at your cleavage, which you don’t cover up most of the time anyway.

”I’ve never…”

”I know. I’ll teach you.” You say.

Riki puts the condom in his back pocket before standing up. Arms stuck by his side, looking at you nervously.

”Okay… teach… teach me.” He replies, voice cracking slightly. You reach out and grab his wrist, pulling him with you to your bedroom.

Riki can feel the growing excitement inside of him, it’s visible to you as well. He’s hard. His cock straining against his sweatpants.

You grab his shoulders and guide him to sit down on your bed. He’s unsure where to put his hands, so you have to grab them yourself and place them on your hips as you hover above him.

”Is this okay?” You ask. He nods in response. ”Good.”

You lean down and kiss him, your lips meeting his. Riki isn’t completely sure what to do, trying his best to keep up the pace you’re setting but fails. His chest is heaving and he feels like he’s reached nirvana. Is this really happening? Is he gonna get laid by his best friend? The thought makes him smile sheepishly against your lips. You pull away, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. He whines at the absence of your lips but it’s quickly turned into pleasure as you trail kisses down his neck. A small whimper escapes him as you bite down gently at the nape of his neck. The sound turns you on more than you could imagine. As a reaction you automatically grind your core against his clothed erection.

”Ngh- n-noona…” Riki moans and clutches the fabric of your shirt.

”Are- are you gonna leave marks?” He asks with a shaky voice.

”Do you want me to mark you?” You ask, moving your head up to meet his gaze.

”…mmmh… yes…”

”Hold my hair for me,” you say. Riki immediately gathers your hair with his and at the back of your head like a handheld ponytail. With the hair out of your face you kiss your way down his neck, over his clothes chest and down to his pants where he then looses the grip of your hair. The condom had fallen out of his pocket earlier and is now lying beside his thigh. You pick it up and put it elsewhere while you pull down his pants.

Riki looks at you in awe, there is something so sexy about you wanting to fuck him. It should be obvious, but for Riki it’s not. He lifts his hips to let you pull down his pants and boxers.

His cock stands tall and proudly, the mushroom tip leaking precum like a faucet. He bites his lower lip and his thighs are already trembling.

”So pretty… and it’s all for me tonight…” you say quietly while using your thumb to rub over the slit of his tip. Riki moans loudly, head thrown back against the pillow. A pink blush spreads across his face and down his neck.

”Ahh… ngh-” he moans as you take his cock into your mouth. Your lips soft around his thick shaft. You look up at his face only to see that he’s thrown his arm over his eyes, lower lip trembling under his teeth. Bobbing your head up and down his cock is easy with all the precum he’s leaking. His tip reaches the back of your throat, and you fight against your gag reflex. ”N-noona… I’m gonna… come…”

You pull off of him with a pop sound, gaining yet another whine from him. Slowly he pulls the arm off his face, looking down at you. ”Fuck… you’re so pretty, noona…” he whispers. A satisfied smile spreads across your lips.

”Thank you,”

You stand up on your knees, shimmying down your panties inch by inch. Riki reaches out with his hands to help you pull them down, suddenly feeling very eager to see what’s underneath.

Riki takes in the view of your unclothed pussy, slickness dripping on the inside of your thighs. ”Fuck noona… you’re so wet…” he reaches out and wipes the inside of your thigh with his thumb. Then brings it to his face, licking the slickness off of it. He starts jerking his hips upwards, trying to get some much needed friction. You moan as his tip nudges your folds. Feeling impatient you slowly lower yourself on his dick.

”What about the condom… noona?” He reminds you, looking for it but stop once you respond.

”Save it for another day, we don’t need it…” you say. He accepts it immediately. The slight burning sensation of him stretching you out makes you moan, it feels so good.

”Fuck…. Riki you’re so big…” you moan. Riki responds with a moan of his own as he bottoms out in your pussy. You sit down fully on his dick for a moment, letting yourself adjust to his size. Riki’s knuckles are turning white, grabbing your hips so tight like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He rolls his head back against the pillows, not daring to look at you because he’s too afraid he’ll come if he does.

”Ah- Ngh…” he moans as you slowly start moving your hips. Not fully lifting yourself off his dick yet. ”N-noona… m’gonna… m’gonna come…” he moans breathlessly.

”Not yet, okay?”

”Ngh- fuck… o-okay…”

Slowly you start lifting yourself off his dick, then lowering yourself again. Bouncing up and down in the most torturous pace just to make him last longer. Losing yourself in the feeling of needing more you start going faster. Riki moans out loud, his cock pulsating inside of you.

You feels his dick shooting ropes of come inside of you. Slowly filling you up with come. A soft moan escapes you.

Riki doesn’t move for a good minute before tilting his head to look at you. ”I-I’m sorry…”

”Don’t be…”

”Noona… I wanna make you come too…” Riki says, you tilt your head in confusion before he turns the both of you around. Pinning you into the mattress and pulling himself out. ”Let me taste you… please noona…” he kisses you down your body to your pussy that is now leaking a mixture of cum and your own juices. His eyes gleam with excitement at the thought of being able to taste you. He reaches your pussy and drags his tongue over your folds.

Your fingers reach down and grab his hair, he moans quietly against your pussy. Looking up at you through his eyelashes to gauge your reaction before he licks faster.

”Ngh- higher up- ah… right- right there” you moan, your thighs tightening around his head. He wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking. Causing you to arch your back off of the bed and moan his name loudly. The noises coming out of you is music to Riki’s ears. ”R-riki I’m gonna come-” your thighs tighten even more around his head as you come over the edge. He laps up every single drop of your juices, but doesn’t stop. ”R-riki…” you moan.

Trying to pull yourself away but he holds your thighs still with his large hands. When he finally pulls away you see his puffy lips. Your juices coating his lips, nose and chin. He kisses the inside of your thighs and the mound of your pussy for a while, letting you rest before sticking his face back in between your legs.

”Mmh… noona… you taste so good…” he mumbles against your pussy. His tongue darting inside of you. Your grip on his hair tightens as you once again come on his tongue. This time he pulls away, kissing his way back up your face and you taste yourself on his tongue.

”You were so good, Riki…”

”Mmh… thank you, Noona…” he responds, nuzzling into your neck as he holds you close.

Not long after, you both fall asleep.

A/N!: okay what do we think guys??🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[riiseiis]

HE DOESN’T HAVE TO KNOW 。why does he know that.

♡ authors notes  。pls i had to get on the website to post this bc if the 10 slide limit..

♡ taglist  。@candidupped @theyluvcece00 @ssiiwave 

[ni-kichromeheartzz]

Typa shit I've been on this ovulation week

[riiseiis]

HE DOESN’T HAVE TO KNOW 。ni-ki smau

♡ synopsis 。 in which you figure out your brothers friend is a total hottie! the problem? you keep unironically embarrassing yourself infront of him..

♡ trope 。 brothersfriend!riki x fem reader, university au, non idol, fluff, humor(?)

♡ other 。 written parts, profanity & sexual comments, suggestive themes, mc is obsessed with riki, kms/kys jokes, lowkey mean riki, reader is heeseungs little sister and hes extremely protective over her

♡ includes 。all of enha, sooin meovv, moka illit, jiwoo nmixx, maybe more idk

♡ authors notes 。 pls dont hate on me this my first time writing & making a smau 😅 i tried making a banenr and gave up so..

PROFILES 。we listen and we dont judge // who made this??

episode 1 ouu shii

episode 2 email me i can’t speak here

episode 3 why does he know that??

episode 4 WHY DO YOU KNOW HIS TIMETABLE

episode 5 sooin no..

more tba

[arelyvn]

THE BET - SJY ── .✦

Jake sim, one of the most popular boys in school makes it his goal to have you fall for him, a simple bet with his friends. Little does he know, he’ll be the one falling to his knees for you

sim jaeyun x fem!reader

content warnings: smut, angst, inexperienced reader x experienced jake, pussy drunk jake, pussy eating, fingering, dry humping, multiple makeout scenes, mutual masterbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of bullying & alcohol, jake is a massive giver, and a simp (begging), hyung line mentioned, porn with a plot..let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 16.8k

bonus scene here!

Going to a school where everyone around you got what they wanted was torture. Especially for someone like you. You don't come from a wealthy family like the other students do. Some people would call your home life unfortunate if they knew. Which is exactly why almost no one knows. 

You only got accepted into this school because of a scholarship program, after endless studying, and trying to stay focused at your old school, that was your out.

It was hard though, with the bullying, the mean comments, trying to remain sane while everyone in your life pushed and pointed like you were some object for observation and critiquing. 

But at your new school, people actually leave you alone. You've been attending here for a few months now. As a natural observer it only took 1 to understand the dynamic of the people here.

From the designer hand bags, to the freshly blown out hair, the girls here were not only gorgeous but also had the money to maintain things like that, it was obvious why they didn't bother you. Because you weren't a threat. 

Just like any other school there's always those cliques, the groups of people who hang around the same circle. Yours happens to be you and two other girls, your first friends you made here, Lyla and Gigi.

You have a hard time telling if they pity you, they know your situation. How your mother constantly tries to live off the wealth of other men, they know you don’t live in a good area—

“Oh my gosh he totally looked at me, didn't he look at me?” Lyla says, eyes darting between you and Gigi.

“He quite literally looks at anything with boobs Ly..” Gigi says, taking a bite of the school cafeterias fries.

“Come on, at least feed into my delusions a little bit” She says, stealing one of your fries.

You turn your head slightly, three tables back sits the most known group of boys in the whole school. Football players. Typical.

“You’re talking about Heeseung right?” you say turning back to your friends. “Obviously! I mean with Gigi being Jay’s sister obviously he knows who I am right?” She says, eyes wide

“Yeah- im sure he does, don't they hang out a ton after school and stuff too?” You ask, playing with the salad on your plate with a fork.

“Yup! At Gigi’s too, most of the time, and especially after practice, when they're hot and sweaty-”

“Okay gross. my brother is on that team” Gigi says, gagging

You've been to her house a few times, whether it was for one of your group projects, or to help her out with some school work, Slept over often too, I mean her house was huge.

Her parents even offered to have you sleep in one of the 6 guest bedrooms. But Lyla said it doesn't count as a sleepover if we’re not all together.

“Incoming, 12 o’clock.” Lyla says looking past your shoulder at the group of boys.

“How much you wanna bet she’s gonna yell at him” Gigi says, making you turn around, you watch as a familiar blonde haired girl you've seen around campus storms into the cafeteria, heels clicking on the ground as she approaches them.

“Jake where the fuck were you!” She yells, glaring at the dark haired boy, number 15 on the football team. You only know that because Lyla made you go through the list of them to figure out which one Heeseung was. 

You watch him, the way his eyes never leave his phone when he speaks. “God- What do you not fucking understand about where done?” He says finally looking up at her, the other guys around him look like they're watching a movie while they observe the interaction.

“But you didn't even-” she starts “Clara I don't want to hear your bullshit okay? Just leave me alone.” He says, tone irritated.

“Fine- you know you're just like all the other guys. Only talking to girls just to get your dick wet.”You watch the way her grip tightens on her designer bag.

“You didn't seem to mind.” He says, making the guys around him let out the laughs they've been holding.

“Fuck you- you’re so going to regret this!” She says, and you watch as he rolls his eyes and focuses back on his phone

“She looks like she's about to throw a tantrum” Gigi says, making your attention go back to your friends

“I mean Jake knew what he was getting into when they started..messing around" Lyla says. 

You just nod, half listening before turning your head again to look at the group, they’re back to laughing, probably at the interaction that just happened.

“-and then we can order pizza or something, it’s the perfect night for it too! You in y/n?” Lyla says, and you look at them confused “Huh?”

“Girl, The Victoria's Secret fashion show duh, it's live tonight.” She says "Gigi's house obviously since you know, movie theater room” 

“I love the way you volunteered my own place, But yeah, my house tonight” She says shrugging 

“Um- I dont know guys..I kind of have to study-”

“Y/n it's friday night. Come on, you have all weekend to study, please!” She says looking at you with those infamous puppy dog eyes

“Fine, fine ill be there, what time?” You ask, picking up your phone. 

“Like 7 ish?” Lyla says, looking at Gigi who just nods, “Yeah, Jay won't be home either, pretty sure him and his friends are going to some party.”

“Your parents are letting him?” Lyla asks, brow raising.

 “They're not even home, they literally left for their anniversary trip not even 3 hours ago.” Gigi says checking her phone. “So it will just be us then? she nods.

The rest of the day is a blur, between trying to set up tutoring appointments with your counselor, because apparently it looks good to help other students, and trying to finish your own work so you can actually go to Gigi’s.

You mentally prepare yourself to ask your mom if you can go tonight, hoping she's in a good mood. Knocking lightly on her bedroom door “Mom?” you ask quietly and the door swings open, you take in her attire, the club dress, the really tall heels, her hair and make up done. 

“You’re going on another date?” You ask brow raising 

“Yeah, remember that guy from the bar I told you about, Chris?" She says smiling, you nod even though you don't remember her saying a thing about him. 

“Right- um well I was just wondering if I can go to Gigi’s tonight? I finished my homework and stuff and its also friday so-” 

“Sure” She says, and you pause. It must be because she's going on a date, because you would have gotten a whole lot more shit. 

“Can you sleep over too.” It's not a question. 

“Uh- I can ask” You say shrugging

“Well just try too okay? Im about to leave” She says, putting in her earrings and giving you a very rare kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you confused as ever.

Its like the universe was on your side when you opened your phone to see the group chat messages 

Lyla: Gigi we should just have a sleepover

Lyla: It's already gonna be late when the live is done too

Lyla: Plus we haven't had one in so long

Gigi: yeah I was literally going to ask if you guys wanted to stay the night anyway lol

Lyla: YAY! Good because my bags already packed

Gigi: Y/n can u come too?

You: Yup! I'll be there

You set your phone down so you can focus on packing an overnight bag, you don't need to overdress either, so you settle on wearing some shorts, a hoodie, and fluffy socks with slippers, this is a sleepover after all

When you get to Gigi's house- no, mansion, because this can't even compare to your house. Lyla comes running out

"You're late!” She says, grabbing your bags from you “It's like 10 minutes-” 

“And the show starts in 20!” she says frantically, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the house

You dont think you’ll ever get over how nice it is, from the high ceilings to the expensive paintings on the wall, and the pool in the backyard, probably way too big for a family of four.

You catch the faint smell of popcorn from the kitchen, as Lyla places your bags by the stairs, “Where's Gigi?” you ask 

“Shes setting up in the movie room, im trying to finish the popcorn” Lyla says going to the kitchen

You walk down the hall you've grown familiar with, observing the pictures on the wall of Gigi's family 

“Y/n- how do you disconnect a Playstation from the TV? Jay didn't even bother to.” She says, clicking random buttons on the remote. You laugh walking over to help her

୨♡୧

“Okay all I have to say is when I get married and stuff, im making my husband buy me that specific set.” Lyla says over the runway music, making you and Gigi laugh because she practically yells over how loud it is. 

You open your mouth to speak but stop when all three of your eyes go to the door as it opens, Heeseung walks in pausing as his eyes go to the large TV screen “Holy shit- are you guys watching porn?” He says, looking at the model on the stage, the space instantly feels smaller as Sunghoon pushes  past him to get in the room “We’re not watching porn!” Gigi says, pausing the TV

Lyla is just staring at Heeseung, Jay walks in next “Gigi what the hell are you watching-”

“Did we interrupt your group gooning session?” Heeseung says. You watch Gigi's face flush red, now clearly visible since Jay turned on the lights. 

“Jay- You said you were going to that stupid ass party tonight!” She says walking over to him “Yeah well it got cancelled.” He says, rolling his eyes. “Bruh I've been wanting to play the ps5 all day” Sunghoon says before looking at the TV again 

“Do we not literally have a room for you to do just that?” Gigi says, eyeing down Sunghoon, before looking back at her brother.

“Dude someone left a whole bag of popcorn in the microwave-” Jake walks in pausing when he sees everyone in here, his eyes land on you for a split second before looking at the TV “What are they watch-” 

“Its not fucking porn! You all are so stupid!” Gigi says before her eyes snap back to Jay “I literally said I was having Y/n and Lyla over in our messages!”  

“Yeah well I forgot” He rolls his eyes again, you cant help but observe the other four boys, you watch Heeseungs eyes, following them to Lyla.. that has to be considered eye fucking. 

You can't help but look at Jake though, he's wearing glasses. Are they prescription? He’s looking at something on his phone. He just showed Sunghoon something on his phone that made him smile. Sunghoon looks at you for a second before nudging Jake's shoulder, Jake is looking at you- is he looking behind you? You turn your head slightly, before looking back at him, why is he smirking- 

“Fine! You keep the movie room well just go in the living room. Just don't snitch” Jay pleads, not even embarrassed that he's begging in front of his friends, Gigi just beams proudly, knowing she's won when they walk out.

୨♡୧

“She’s a virgin?!” Jake practically yells, making Heeseung, and Sunghoon's eyes snap to him. 

“You’re so fucking lucky the movie room is noise cancellation.” Jay says pinching his eyebrows 

“And- I don't even know if it's true, I just over heard Gi talking on the phone with her and Lyla a few weeks back” Heeseung and Sunghoons attention on the movie long forgotten 

“Are you talking about y/n?” Heeseung asks curiously 

“There's no way, I mean yeah she's like quiet and shit but she has some experience right?” Sunghoon adds

“I don't know man, but her and Gi became friends at the beginning of the school year, she's been over a few times. She's pretty chill.” Jay says 

“So she doesn't have a boyfriend?” Jake asks, brow raising 

“I thought you liked them experienced Jake? You fuck with little virgins now or what?” Heeseung says smirking 

“I mean she’s cute, nothing wrong with teaching her a thing or two” Jake says with a knowing look on his face

“She doesn't really talk to guys though–like at all. Gi always complains that she’s too busy studying. But she's hella smart, tutoring and shit-”

“Wait, she tutors?” Jake's ears perk up at that

“Yeah she came over to help Gigi with chem the other day.” Jay says casually, like he didn't just give him the golden ticket to your personal space

“Are you serious?” Sunghoon says looking at him

Heeseung glances between the two, picking up what they're hinting at. “It's kinda risky, I mean girls like that- they aren't like, easy you know? Plus you're literally one of the smartest on the team.” 

“You think she's actually gonna be interested though?” Jay asks

“I bet she'll see through that shit the first tutoring lesson honestly” Sunghoon says, making Heeseung laugh

“You think I only pull the easy ones?” Jake watching the both of them

“Thats all you’ve done this whole time-” Heeseung starts

“Alright bet.” Jake says, making the three of them pause

“Bet?” 

“Yeah, I'll get her to fall for me.” Jake says confidently 

“Yeah right” Heeseung adds

“Shit- I mean what about Clara though?” Sunghoon asks

“What about her? Im not fucking her anymore”

“You realise the shit she's gonna give y/n if you actually go through with that?” Jay says

“You’re basically setting her up for failure, Claras fucking crazy.” Heeseung says

“I still dont know why you decided to fuck her in the first place” he adds

“Probably because of her personality.” Jay says through a laugh

“Nah fuck her, she wont mess with y/n like that, shes not that desperate.” Jake says, but deep down he doesn't know if it's 100% true. Is he really setting you up for failure with this?

He's pulled from his thoughts when you come walking out of the movie room, coincidentally.

He only saw you sitting down, but now he's taking you in fully. Hoodie, shorts, fluffy…cat socks.

You pause when you see them all staring at you before awkwardly smiling and going to the kitchen to grab more popcorn.

Lyla and Gigi sent you out because they got it last time, but that's when there wasn't a group of guys you hardly knew in the living room. 

Jay nudges Jake's shoulder before glancing to the kitchen, hesitating a beat before standing up and walking over. 

You're looking through the five different popcorn options, who even needs that much popcorn anyway.

He watches as you choose the ‘extra butter’ one before speaking “Good choice” He says, walking further into the kitchen

“Oh- um thanks, it's the best one” You say, opening the microwave to put the popcorn in, he looks down at your legs, then back at your face when you turn around

“Y/n right?” He says, watching your face

“Yeah, I know who you are already though.” fingers toying with the end of your hoodie

“Oh? You've been to a game?” He says, taking a step closer 

“No- I mean, I don't really watch football like that or anything- or sports” You say, looking back at how much time is on the popcorn, 50 seconds. 

50 more seconds of this extremely weird interaction between you and one of the most popular guys in school. 

He notices, he doesn't like that. “Y’know we have the same 3rd block.”

“Oh- AP Anatomy & Physiology?" You ask, but you know exactly what he's talking about, how could you not. He’s the 9th one to arrive in class everyday, everyone swarms his desk like a bunch of baby ducks just to talk to him. 

“Yeah, I sit in the third row-” He's pauses when the beep of the microwave interrupts him, you silently thank the universe before pulling the popcorn out and mumbling something like “enjoy your movie” before practically running back to the movie room, leaving Jake confused, but also intrigued, most girls fall to their knees the second he gets within a 5 feet radius, so why did you just run away..

He walks back to the living room, sitting down, “Told you, easy ones only” Heeseung says through a laugh

୨♡୧

You're the first person to walk into AP Anatomy & Physiolgy on Monday, as always. You take your usual assigned, unassigned seat in the back row by the window, unpacking your bag, getting settled.

Your teacher walks in shortly after, she’s gotten used to you being here first. “Y/n” she says over the silence “Yes?”

“Are you okay with talking about how you're offering tutoring?” setting her own stuff down

"I'll have you do it at the end of class.” she adds. “Oh- yeah, I printed flyers for it too.” You say, and she smiles.

The students slowly file in, your eyes flick up to the door when the 9th person comes in. Jake.

The second he walks in his eyes are on you, you don't know why you feel hot all the sudden, like someone turned up the heater when he looks at you

Barely having any time to take in his outfit, you tap your pen on your paper, hoodie and jeans maybe?

You stop when you see the familiar frame take a seat next to you- Why is Jake sitting next to you, does he not always sit in the third row- You don't look at him, instead looking down at his shoe in your peripheral vision, because it would be weird to look at him. Even if you do feel his eyes on you. 

The class flies by, you write down whatever your teacher puts on the board, trying not to be distracted by the noticeable presence beside you, if he had an aura around him, it would be clashing into yours because this whole time you've been weirdly affected by his close proximity. 

“..And y/n has something to say as well.” Your teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts,you watch as everyone's heads turns to you before you stand up and walk to the front, clearing your throat

“Hi- im offering tutoring for anyone who needs extra help, any subject, um- here are the flyers if you're interested.” you say quickly before placing them on the teachers desk and walking back to your seat.

There's nothing you hate more than public speaking like that, you try to subtly calm your breathing. Jakes eyes are focused on you the whole time.

As soon as the bell rings you’re practically already out the door, Jake watches you stand up abruptly and rush out before he goes to the teachers desk to grab one of the flyers.

୨♡୧

“I don't know- she didn't even spare me a glance, like at all.” Jake says, setting his bag down on the bench in the locker room

“I told you, she doesn't talk to guys like that” Jay mutters, tying his shoe

“Pretty boy lost his charm huh?” Heeseung chuckles, shutting the door behind him

“Not completely” Jake says, pulling out your tutoring flyer from his bag

“You sneaky motherfucker-” Sunghoon eyes him, grabbing the paper from his hands

“Holy shit- you're actually going through with that?” Heeseung looks over Sunghoon's shoulder

“Just to prove a point?” Sunghoon asks

Jake doesn’t have time to reply before the Coach comes in, yelling at them to ‘get the fuck out the locker room’

୨♡୧

As soon as you get home, you pause when you see a suitcase by the door. “Oh y/n- took you long enough, you remember Chris right?” She say’s coming out of her room with a duffel bag

“The guy you went on a date with?” You ask, seting your backpack down

“Yeah, the rich one” She says with a smirk

“Anyways, he’s taking me to Boston for a trip!” She says excitingly

“Boston- what? Didnt you just meet him though?” You ask, brow raising in confusion 

“I think he might be the one” She says smiling, the same smile she’s put on every time she says that.

“Um- well how long?” you ask, trying to register this whole thing

“Hmm- like 2 and half weeks-”

“2 and a half?! Mom- what the hell?”

“Calm down, I hate when you get like this y/n.” She says, putting her duffel bag on her shoulder

“Theres money for food, and whatever you need on the counter. It's not like I'm leaving you here to starve.” 

“But-”

“Shit- I gotta go, ill call you when we land okay?” She says, giving you an awkward side hug before rushing out, leaving you confused as ever. This is what always happens though so you don't know why you're confused. She’s probably just doing it for the money anyway. Marry a rich man, use him to provide for us. It's pathetic.

The time was 9:46 when you receive the message. A number you don't know, you click on it

Unknown: Hey, Is this y/n?

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I got this number from your tutoring flyers

sitting up, this is the first person to actually text you about that

You: Oh yeah, what subject do you need help with?

Unknown: AP Anatomy & Physiology

You: Okay perfect, I have an A in that class so I can definitely help

You get your notebook out and a pencil

You: How soon do you want to start? And what's your first and last name

Unknown: Can we start tomorrow? I have practice everyday except Tuesdays

Practice? No way. You feel your heart beat pick up, This cant be–

Unknown: First names Jake, last names Sim.

The Jake Sim is texting you, about.. Tutoring. Is he not one of the top students though? You take a deep breath before typing back a reply

You: Okay, Tomorrow works. Does after school in the library work for you?

Jake Sim: Yeah im good with that

Jake Sim: I’ll see you tomorrow y/n

You shut your phone off, trying to ignore the way your palms are sweating a little too much right now, who even uses peoples names like that in messages?

Jake smiles down at his phone before swiping out of the chat.

୨♡୧

You're early. You're also early everywhere you go. You already set up your computer, and notebook with his name at the top, even after you erased it 3 times.

He walks in, you notice immediately, looking up from your paper, his hair is framing his face, no glasses today. White shirt with jeans. He smiles before sitting down across from you, you smile back, trying to seem less awkward.

You try to remind yourself, this is a mere tutoring lesson, so you'll act like it.

“So I just need to know what you're struggling on before we actually get into the teaching stuff.” you say looking at him, his eye contact is intense, it's hard to hold it.

He pulls out his own notebook

“Mainly muscle contractions,heart anatomy, and” He pauses before looking up at you “-Hormones.” You hesitate a beat before writing that down under his name. He notices.

“Okay, I can work with this- is there anything specific you don't understand? Is it a focusing thing?” You ask, genuinely concerned “I actually pulled up your average and you seem to be doing fine-”

“It's my memory” He says quickly “I have a hard time understanding, when the teacher talks it doesn't really comprehend well.” 

“Oh- that's completely normal, are you more hands on?” You ask

He smirks “And visual.”

You look like you're actually deep in thought “Okay so, we would need to do more interactive studying, makes sense.” You say writing more stuff down

He watches you, the way your brows furrow in thought.

“Are you going to the game next Friday?” He says, your eyes flick up to him, confused at the sudden question

“I don't really go to football games or anything- Thats more Lyla and Gigi” You say, eyes traveling down for a split second when his tongue wets his bottom lip

“You should come” He says casually, like time has no affect on him

“We really should stay on task“

“If I pass the test next week will you come?”

Your caught off guard by the question, his heavy gaze on you making it worse

“Um- I’ll think about it” You say before writing more stuff down, he smiles slightly

୨♡୧

The next week goes by quickly, thankfully. Your mom has only called once, claiming she forgot to say she landed, even if it was a day later.

Home is lonely, its quiet but its good for studying. Your thoughts drift to Gigis family sometimes, even though her and her brother argue half the time, at least she has someone.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name being called, not by the familiar voice of your friends but by..Jake?

Lyla and Gigi both look behind you, eye brows raised as he comes closer, standing infront of your table in the cafeteria

You watch the way people look at him, the heads turning to you, the attention—it’s too much

“Y/n” He says looking down at you

“I might be a little late for tutoring today, coach wants to talk to us about the game.” He says, making Lyla and Gigi’s eyes flick between you two

“Um- Okay, But you couldn’t have messaged me that?” you say, trying to ignore the gazes on you from people you’ve never spoken to in your life.

“I mean you were already here so-“

“Yeah just text me next time okay?” You say, avoiding eye contact

He looks over at his friends, watching their snickers. Oh hell no.

You think he’s going to walk away by now but he sits down, right next to you. That makes Lyla's jaw practically drop

“Why? You don’t like talking to me?” He says, watching you intently

“I never said that- you just cause a lot of..attention.” You say, looking around before looking at him

“You don’t like attention?”

“Not from this many people.” You say standing up, grabbing your bag

“Where are you going-“

“I have to go.” You mumble before putting your bag over your shoulder and walking out the cafeteria, not looking back because you know if you do, everyones eyes will be on you.

As soon as the doors shut behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Really?” Gigi asks, watching Jakes confused face

“You realize you’re like a magnet for attention right?” Lyla says

“And there’s nothing she hates more then that.”

“I was just asking her about tutoring.” Jake says, standing up to walk back to his friends

“Nice job man, you really do still got it huh?” Heeseung says through a smirk, making the others stifle their laughs

“Should’ve put money on it” Sunghoon adds, earning a glare from Jake

୨♡୧

Jake came in late like he said, 15 minutes to be exact. He looked out of breath, like he ran here.

The tutoring session was fine, you kept that professional exterior even if you were trying not to feel embarrassed about earlier, thankfully he didn't bring it up.

“Aren't hormones just when you're horny?” He asks, pencil raised above his paper, looking at you

You pause “Did you really just ask me that-” You didn't mean to say it out loud but you did, it makes him let out a chuckle, he bites his lip, something he does often, a little too often. To the point where you can't help your eyes follow when he does it.

“Okay um, let me think of how to word this” you say, looking down at your paper before back up at him “It’s not just what makes you- ‘horny’ but I guess that could be a way to describe it, a more..scientifical word is Steroid Hormones..”

He watches you talk, even if what your saying is hardly registering to him, because not only are you talking to him about sex hormones or whatever it is, but you're not wearing the same knit sweater you had on earlier, you must have taken it off, because he cant pull his eyes away from the way your tits look in that tank top-

“Jake?” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, his eyes find yours again.

“How are you supposed to pass this test when you can’t even focus?” You ask, completely unaware of how he was just looking at you

“Shit- sorry, what were you saying” He says a little bit more nervously than he intended, why is he so damn nervous, why do you even make him nervous? 

“Hm, you need something to do with your hands.” You say casually, taking him by surprise

His mind races with what you mean, please, please ask him to finger you.

He pauses when you pull out a rubix cube, a fucking rubix cube and hand it to him- what the fuck is he supposed to do with this shit?

“You said you were more hands on, one of the other students I tutor is also like that. Whenever she uses that, it's like she’s more focused, you should try it.” You say smiling, encouraging.

He doesn't know why he feels relieved when he hears the word ‘she’, but he does.

He takes the object from your hand, fidgeting with it for a few seconds before you continue

The rest of the lesson is smooth, who knew a rubix cube would actually work. You try to stay focused yourself though.

The constant bounce of your leg to settle whatever your feeling when you watch the way his fingers work the object in his hand, it should be illegal to have that many veins in the first place.

Later that night, in one of your moments where you give yourself a break from studying.

Heating up the leftover pasta you made the other night, you get a text. Your body reacts before your mind does, heartbeat picking up

Jake Sim: I tried the practice test thing you showed me earlier

Jake Sim: Got a 100% 

You smile, when he sends a picture of his laptop, the score on it saying just that

You: Good job

He frowns at his phone, that's all? No titty pic as a reward?

Jake Sim: Guess I'll be seeing you at Friday's game then :)

You: Well see if your studying shows then

Jake Sim: I'll make sure it does

୨♡୧

“Y/N!” you hear Jake yell after you, you stop to turn around, seeing him walking up to you, leaving Heeseung and Jay’s side as he comes into step beside you.

You’re still not used to the pointed looks you get from the people around you, but you're training yourself to pretend they aren't there.

Heeseung and Jay watch as Jake rushes to you like a damn puppy, looking at each other.

He hands you a paper, you take it looking down at the big 100% on the top “You actually did it!” You say smiling, before looking up at him beside you

He puts a hand on his chest, with a fake gasp “And to think you doubted me” He stops at the cafeteria door, pulling you aside before you walk in, facing you away from the people who keep looking at you. The nosy motherfuckers who can’t help but take attention to you ever since he’s became—friends? With you.

“So you'll come to the game then right?” He asks, doing that thing where he bites his lip

“Thats what we agreed on, plus Lyla and Gigi are going too” You say, watching the way his eyes light up

The last few people file in the cafeteria, leaving you and him alone. 

“Y’know what the theme is right?” He asks, and this time you're genuinely caught off guard- theme? He notices your confusion right away 

“Every game has a theme, pretty sure this one’s western, like cowboys and shit” He says watching your face, the way your eyebrows knit in uncertainty

“Lyla and Gigi didn't tell you?”, you shake your head softly

“Im surprised- they always go like all out for the themes” He says through a quiet laugh

Great. That only means they are going to make you go all out too.

You both pause when the final bell rings, walking in to the cafeteria like its the most normal thing, your steps falter when you feel the eyes on you, you look at your friends before glancing at Jakes group- why are they all staring at you-

“I’ll see you later y/n” He smiles before walking to his table, you sit down in front of Lyla and Gigi who are both looking at you knowingly

“What?” you say through an awkward laugh

“You know damn well what” Lyla says through a smirk

“Tutoring my ass” Gigi adds back

“Girl I do not look at my tutor like that” Lyla says, holding back a laugh

“Like what-?”

“Like I want to eat him the fuck up- because thats how The Jake sim was just looking at your ass-” You almost choke on your water, making her and Gigi laugh

You look down at the table to hide your blush “Well, you guys also didnt tell me there was a theme at the game.” You say, crossing your arms

“Okay when was the last time you checked the group chat y/n” Gigi asks, you pull out your phone

“This morning..” You say scrolling through the message thread

Lyla: Okay so what are we wearing tn

Gigi: Themes cowboy right?

Gigi: You know how much my mom and dad LOVE that costume shit

Gigi: I have so much stuff for it at my house

Lyla: Wow gigi inviting us over

Gigi: I can take u guys home after school

Lyla: YES

Lyla: We have to look GOOD, especially you y/n

Lyla: For you know

Gigi: Jake

Lyla: Okay shes probs not even on her phone

You swipe out, just to see if your mom said anything, you click on the messages to see a sunset picture and city buildings, typical.

“So, can you come?” Lyla asks

“Yeah sure- but we don’t have to go all out right?”

They look at each other before looking at you, the smile on their faces tells you everything you need to know

୨♡୧

“This feels like a lot..” You say looking at your outfit in her bedroom mirror

“No y/n- you look like, hot.” Lyla says, choosing one of the 7 cowboy hats Gigi brought out

“This is the final touch” She says before putting it on your head

This is quite literally the opposite of you, completely. It’s something you would never wear if it weren't for them, you wonder what your old self before you transferred schools would think. From the white fitted shirt, to the jean skirt, down to the—cowboy boots..

You adjust the red bandana on your neck so its not choking you uncomfortably

Gigi watches your worried face “I promise the others will be doing 10x more than us.” She reassures you, you look at them in the mirror, Lyla's shorts that hug her curves, Gigi’s shirt that compliments her body perfectly.

This feels very..them. You can't help but feel like an outsider trying to fit in.

“Jake will love it” Lyla says, hiding her smirk

“What- Jake?” The thought of Jake seeing you in this makes you nervous..but also exited? What would he think, would he expect you to wear this?

You're pulled from your thoughts when the man himself sends you a message

Jake Sim: Hey y/n were gonna grab food after the game

Jake Sim: Wanna come?

Jake Sim: Lyla and Gigi can come to

Jake Sim: I already told Jay not to bitch abt it lol

Your fingers hover over the screen

"Quadruple text is crazy” Lyla says through a smile

Gigi peaks over your shoulder “I do not want to hang out with my brother for fun.” She says, rolling her eyes

“Come on Gi! The others will be there too and! Heeseung’s fine ass” Lyla says, looking in the mirror to adjust her push up bra

Gigi just puts on her boots with a shrug

“Y/n say yes please!” Lyla says, practically jumping up and down

“Fine- fine” 

You: Yeah sure.

“Um- Thats all?” Lyla asks 

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know, maybe say something like ‘I'm so excited!’ or ‘good luck!- you know what just give me the phone.” Lyla says snatching it from your hand and sending a message

You: Good luck Jakey! I'll be cheering you on! ;)

“What the hell- is there a way to delete this, how do I-” 

“Really Ly? He’s gonna know thats not y/n, she like never uses emojis” Gigi says cringing 

“Maybe if he wins he'll give you good dick?” Lyla says shrugging 

Your face goes red, this topic, talking about him-

Jake Sim: Haha thanks y/n :) 

“See, completely normal!” Lylas practically beaming

“Yeah so that definitely wasn't her” Jake says putting on his cleats

“Jakey? Really?” Sunghoon mimicks 

“I wouldn’t doubt if Lyla took her phone honestly.” Jay mutters

“Lyla's coming right?” Heeseung asks, putting on his jersey

His friends look at him “Why?”

“I mean shes hot as fuck dude, plus she totally looks at me all the time” He adds, fixing his hair in the locker mirror

“Yeah she's coming” Jake says, looking back down at the messages

୨♡୧

When you, Gigi, and Lyla get to the game a little earlier, they were not joking about people going all out. Compared to everyone else, your outfit was tame to say the least.

You three find a spot in the bleachers, your eyes scanning the field for one specific person.

You watch him, he’s drinking water on the side right now- his helmet is in his other hand, how can someone look so good drinking water.

You watch as Heeseung nudges Jake's shoulder beside him, and then Jake's eyes are on you

“Holy fuck” He says to Heeseung

You cant see what they’re saying 

“I mean she looks like a cowboys wet dream” Heeseung says, smirking

Jake gives him a pointed look, before turning back to you, the distance is good enough for him to see the way your skirt clings to your legs, and how good that shirt looks on you, Fuck. 

He waves at you, you look behind to see if it was someone else but there's no one behind you yet, you turn back to see him smiling at you before offering a small wave back

Lyla and Gigi are both watching from beside you, eyes flicking between you and Jake

You watch as Heeseung yells at him, and as he puts his helmet on before running over to him, a smile that wont go away ever since he saw you plastered on his face

“You sure you're not just doing this for the love of the game” Heeseung says, putting in his mouth guard 

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A statement that might be right. Because this doesn't feel like some childish bet anymore.

The first half of them game goes well, you dont really understand much. But from the way Lyla, Gigi, and the rest of the students are cheering, thats definitely a good sign. “Im going to get water, do you guys want any?” you say, stepping off the bleachers 

“Yeah- soda?” Lyla says, before looking back at the field where a very sweaty heeseung is spraying water in his mouth

You nod before walking to the concessions, the line isn't too bad, so you just pull out your phone to scroll, when two girls come behind you, you wouldn't care normally but its what they're talking about that makes your hand pause over your screen

“I mean he hasn't even looked at me this whole time, which is crazy because not even a month ago he had me sucking his dick!” One of the girls says, you look down to see pink cowboy boots

“His very big dick” Her friend says

“Ridiculously big. Fuck I miss it im not gonna lie.” 

“Isn’t he fucking with a new girl now though?” You hear her friend say, you watch as the person in front of you takes way too long to order

“Yeah some nerd ass bitch, teachers pet apparently” 

“I don't know Clara, she's like hella smart” 

You shut your eyes for a second, Clara, you recognize that name. That's the same girl who yelled at Jake in the cafeteria that one time

“I don't care how smart she is, that's literally my man” 

“Girl- he literally dropped your ass in front of the whole cafeteria..”

Your attention is brought back when it's your turn to order, you pay for the drinks before going back, doing your best to avoid turning around.

“Y/n?” Lyla says, when you hand her the sprite

“You look like you've seen a ghost, are you good?” Gigi asks, concern laced in her tone

“Yeah im good” You say offering a tight smile, the bandana on your neck suddenly feeling too tight.

It feels like someone has their hand around your heart, squeezing it, because why did hearing those things make you feel this way– Why is Jake even talking to you? Why did he even invite you in the first place?

You watch as the starting players go back on the field, but your mind can't focus when all these questions are flooding in. What does someone like him even want with you.

୨♡୧

You look down at your phone 

Jake Sim: Hey me and the guys will be out in 5 mins

You read the message, before putting your phone in the pocket of your skirt, people are still hanging around, the players usually shower after a game apparently.

Exactly 5 minutes later Jake comes out, jeans, and a black zip up hoodie with a white shirt underneath, his bag is on his shoulder, his hair is still wet from the shower, and you cant help the heat that goes to your face when he waves to you.

You look past him to see the rest of his friends coming out behind him, you see Heeseung whisper something in Jake's ear that makes him roll his eyes.

“Good job- you were great out there” You say, fixing the cowboy hat on your head

“I had good motivation” He says, eyes on your face before they drift to your clothes, finally seeing you up close like this.

“Alright can we go now? Im hungry as fuck.” Jay says, interrupting the moment

You turn to Lyla, who's talking to Heeseung, then to Gigi who shrugs

“Y/n, I can drive us” Jake says, bringing your attention back to him

“Oh its fine I dont-”

“That's a great Idea!” Lyla says a little too loud, making everyone's eyes go to her 

“Theres not enough room in Gigi's car for all of us anyway, so it works out” She adds, calculating smile plastered on her face, she ignores the pointed look you give her

“Alright yeah whatever can we just go now before I die of starvation” Jay says, making Gigi roll her eyes “fat ass.” She mutters before walking to her car

“You did not just call me a fat ass Gi- Weren’t you the one who ate all the fucking leftovers-” You and Jake watch them walk to the car, before you and him walk to his.

You curse Lyla for leaving you with him like this- when he smells so good and his hair is wet, and his hands-

“You look really pretty,” He says, putting his bag in the trunk before opening the passenger door for you. “Thank you-” You reply back quietly, trying to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest.

But how many other girls has he said that too- that girl Clara? 

He gets in the Drivers seat, and starts the car, watching the way you look out the window. Immediately noticing the way you shift

“So, for the first football game you went to, how was it?” he says pulling out of the parking lot

You turn slightly to look at him, the way his face concentrates on the rode, but also managing to talk to you “It was fun” You smile before looking back out the window

“Did you get anything from the concessions? I heard they added slushies and stuff.” He says, tapping his finger on the steering wheel, trying to seem unbothered by the way your energy shifted the second you stepped foot in his car

The mention of drinks has your mind going back to the conversation you heard earlier, what if those girls had knew you where the one they were talking about–

“Yeah just some, um..water and stuff” You say, trying to avoid the way his eyes are pinned on your head

4 minutes of silence pass, except for the low music playing from the speakers, and the car's engine.

“Is everything good?” He asks, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead

“What– yeah of course, why wouldn't it be.” You say quickly, fingers toying with the hem of your jean skirt.

He doesn't buy it.

Your brows furrow in confusion when he pulls over, looking at him as he puts the car and park “What are you doing-”

“Tell me what's wrong” he says, hand still on the steering wheel, but eyes on you

“Nothing's wrong?” You feel that familiar heaviness on your chest

“Y/n. you can't even look at me, did I do something?” He asks, knuckles white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel

“You can tell me whatever it is-”

“Why do you talk to me?” You ask, finally looking at him

“I..I just don't understand– all the sudden it goes from you not even looking at me, and then you're asking to be tutored by me, and then you invite me to your game, and then im in your car-” you continue, your heart beat rising with how much words you're saying in one breath. He doesn't interrupt you.

“And I really didn't think you needed to be tutored, honestly, you're one of the top students in our class- no, in our grade. But I did anyway, it honestly just feels like you pity me. Because why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me– It just doesn't make any sense.” You stop, breathing in heavy breathes, too aware of how close he is right now, how he's looking at you.

“I don't pity you y/n. I like spending time with you.” He says, watching your face

“Fuck- I mean, I took the flyer and the tutoring because I wanted to spend that time with you- whenever I tried to talk to you any other way you just– blew me off?” He says, contemplating his words

He looks down at his hands before back up at you, noticing the way your features slightly soften

He lifts his hand to take the hat off your head, so he can fully see your face

“Why would someone like me want to be friends with you?” He repeats your question, you didn't realise how close you two got, faces nearly an inch away from each other

“I don't want to be friends y/n. I want more than that–I fucking crave more than that” His gaze drops to your lips, a silent question

“Jake-” You whisper out before he presses his lips to yours,you instantly melt at the contact, your hand finds the collar of his shirt, attempting to tug him closer over the center console, his hand holds the back of your head, threading his finger in your hair, he moves his lips against yours, slowly, testing, you follow his lead, letting go instead of taking control. He feels the way you let him, unable to hold the small groan that travels its way to your mouth through the kiss.

You pull back, breathing hard, opening your eyes to look at him, his lips have a slight shine from your saliva, he licks them before looking into your eyes.

You don't know what you're doing, you've never even done anything like this before, but the way he’s looking at you, like you absolutely wrecked him gives you a new found confidence.

You sit up, before moving to get over the center console, he just watches you as you settle on his lap, his hands immediately resting on your waist “y/n-”

“just kiss me” You say, and he doesnt hesitate before pressing his lips against yours, this time its lessed controlled, he doesnt hold himself back.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his hands are touching everywhere, sliding up and down your back, before cupping your ass in his hands making you gasp into his mouth, he swallows that down, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You feel the heat pooling between your legs, shifting slightly, which makes him let out a broken sound before looking down, the way your skirt is riding up, how you’re sitting right on his hardening cock, he looks back at your face, kissing the corner of your mouth before he pulls you on him more, the friction making you let out a quiet sound– he needs to fucking hear it again, and you need to feel it again. 

It starts off slow, testing, in the way you roll your hips on him, you watch him throw his head back “Fuck, baby-” You grind down a little harder, in response to the name, he rolls his hips with you, the seam of his jeans catching your clit just right through your underwear, enough to make you let out small sounds that has his eyes rolling

He leans in to kiss you again, hands splayed on your ass to pull you impossibly closer, the kiss is desperate, frantic, tongues moving together in a rhythm like you were made for each other, there's no leader, no follower, this is just- the two of you.

“J-jake–” you let out, biting your lip when he grinds up, hitting the perfect spot, hes pulling you against him, controlling the way your hips move, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your skirt, He slides his hand underneath the denim fabric, to really feel you, groaning into your mouth at how warm and soft you are in his hands.

“You’re going to kill me-” You both freeze when a loud ringtone comes from his phone.

“Shit- I forgot about the plans” he says, looking at his phone 

Jay: Dude where the hell are you

Jay: Im srsly abt to order with out you

Sunghoon: we got u and y/n waters

Jay: -Missed call-

“We should probably-”

“Yeah”

The warmth of your body is removed like a flash when you sit back down in the passenger seat, fixing your skirt, he tries to ignore the way his dick is throbbing in his jeans right now. Instead he watches you, the flush on your cheeks, the small smile that's barely noticeable

“What?” You say through a chuckle, noticing his stare

“Im just really lucky” He says, before putting the car into drive and getting back on the road, even when you two get out of the car, walking into the restaurant, you’re still thinking about what he said.

Because no one has ever told you they were lucky to have you.

୨♡୧

The next week of school is fun, and easy. You still decide to tutor Jake, because he said it really helped him.

Even if it did lead to small kisses, you definitely weren't complaining. People still look at you two when you walk together in the hallway, he even invited you to sit with him in the caferitria with his friendgroup, they are actually really nice to you.

The best part is seeing Gigi and Jay argue, it's like having your own show to watch while you eat

You don't miss the way Heeseung and Lyla look at each other, or when coincidentally the both of them are late for lunch.

Under the table, Jake's hand is splayed across your thigh, everytime he laughs he squeezes it slightly, which makes you try and close them, but he notices. He notices everything when it comes to you.

“..And not to mention Gigi’s parents bought the good ice cream” Lyla says, practically about to burst from excitement

“Okay so it's like a pool party then?” Sunghoon says, raising his eyebrow

“Well, just like with us though.” Gigi says

“Im not trying to have half the school trash the house, especially when mom and dad get back tomorrow.” She adds, you watch Jay nod

“Im in” Heeseung says, turning to watch Lyla “Perfect! What about you and Jake?” She says turning to you both

“Yeah im down” he smiles before looking at you

“Um- Ill have to check, but ill text you when I get home” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear

“Okay, perfect!” She squeals

“Just come over any time after school then” Jay says

You nod before glancing down at your phone, re reading the message from your mom

Mom: Me and Chris decided to stay a little longer, you have enough money for food still right?

Jake watches you “Are you okay?” he says, quietly so no one else can hear

“Oh yeah- im fine” You say, putting your phone down and smiling

୨♡୧

“I can't do this.” You say as soon as you close Gigi’s bedroom door behind you

They both look at you as you pull out the bathing suit from your tote bag, you watch Gigi cover her mouth to stifle a laugh

“You can’t be serious” Lyla says, standing up to take the middle school one piece swimsuit from your hands

“This thing is hideous” She holds it up in the air

“Im not one to judge but you absolutely cannot wear that y/n” Gigi says, standing up to look at it closer

You bury your face in your hands, sitting down on her bed

“I brought like 5 different bathing suits, plus Gigi has a shit ton, and you are most definitely borrowing one.” Lyla says, emptying her bag on the bed, you glance at the small strings, and shapes before looking up at her 

“What? I wanted to bring my slutty ones, I thought Heeseung would like them” She says smiling proudly

“And im sure jake will” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows

“You’re so ridiculous Ly” Gigi mutters before tying her hair in a bun

You pick up a red triangle bikini top, and Lyla nods

“Good choice, these are the bottoms” She says, holding them up

“These are bottoms? Like swimming bottoms?” you say, taking them from her hand 

“Yup! Just try it on at least” She smiles sweetly, waiting for your approval, you nod

“Come downstairs when you’re done okay?” Gigi says, opening her bedroom door.

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, The bathing suit fits well, it's just..small. Like if you make one wrong move you'll definitely flash someone. You turn around to see how it looks from the back, not completely terrible- just a bit cheeky?

You think Jake might like it, not to mention the fact that you chose the red one because he mentioned he liked that color.

You pause when you hear the sound of male voices, they must be here. You take one last look at yourself before opening the door and almost getting knocked to your ass when you collide with something hard

“Shit- y/n?” You look up, Jake–Your eyes take in his form, the swim trunks, the white tank top perfectly stretched across his chest. His hair, messy, yet perfectly styled, before looking at his face. He’s smiling down at you

You're suddenly aware that you're practically half naked in front of him, You weren't even planning on going in the water, except for your feet–you need to grab your shorts and put them on “I was just uh, I just need my shorts–” 

His hand trails down your shoulder, grabbing your hand before placing it on his chest, over his heart, you feel the fast beats of it, almost in sync with how quick yours is "You're making me nervous” he whispers, he takes a step forward so he's in the bathroom with you, shutting the door behind him softly

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, testing to see your reaction before he pulls back to look down at you, you put your hands on his shoulders before leaning to kiss him again, he reacts immediately, hands on you the second you touch him, his hand starts at your waist before moving down to cup your ass in his hand, you gasp at the feeling, he kneads the flesh in his hands, squeezing it while kissing you deeper “You look so fucking good baby” He says through heavy breaths, looking at your face

He moves until your pressed against the counter, before lifting you up on it, your legs spread slightly to make room for him, while keeping your lips on his.

The kiss is messy, desperate, his hands are on your hips, and you let out a muffled sound when he presses his hips against you, you feel it, the hardness of him against your thigh, you pull back to see the desperate look on his face, the way his cheeks are slightly red, his lips looking even more plump from your kisses

He takes his right hand from your waist, splaying it on your thigh, before he looks into your eyes, you nod.

You watch his hand inch higher, grazing your inner thigh, his finger tip brushes your core, making you shiver at the contact, he watches you intently before pressing his fingers against you, making you let out a shaken breath

Leaning in to brush his lips across your jaw, before slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of the bathing suit bottoms, finally feeling your warmth “Fuck, you’re so wet–” He says, looking down before kissing your neck, softly, reassuringly 

He starts with small circles around your clit, testing to see what makes you feel good, your legs spread wider when he does small figure eights on your clit, hands braced on his shoulders as he presses open mouthed kisses to your neck, trailing up to your ear

His middle finger brushes your entrance, lightly, while his other hand comes up to move the hair out of your face

“Have you ever been fingered y/n?” He asks, voice low, watching the way your chest falls and rises, you shake your head “Do you want to be?” He says, biting his lip “Y-yes, I want you to, Jake” He presses his hard cock against your thigh, groaning at the permission

He connects his lips to yours, you let him in instantly, tongues dancing together before he slowly guides his finger in your entrance, “breathe baby, you're so tight” he whispers against your lips, you close your eyes when his finger goes deeper, making you let out a quiet moan, his single digit stays there, embraced by your warmth before he curls it slightly making you whimper in his mouth “Jake– “ you let out through a wispy breathe

He moves his thumb to circle around your clit, in lazy motions “can you take another, baby? It’ll feel even better” kissing your cheek softly, you nod and he pulls out his finger, before inserting two digits, making you let out a desperate sound at the stretch.

He kisses you, in attempt to quiet you down, before moving his fingers in and out of you, curling inside, rubbing your clit with practiced ease

Seeing you like this, overhwemled by the pleasure he’s bringing you could make him come right now.

“You’re so perfect baby- this pretty pussy’s taking my fingers so well” He whispers, the filthy things making you clench around his fingers, he adds more pressure to your sensitive bud, “j-jake im gonna-“

“You gonna come for me baby?” slightly picking up the pace his fingers are moving, fucking them in and out of you.

Your moans are only getting louder, he move his other hand to cover your mouth, muffling them so the others don't hear down stairs, he feels your hole fluttering around your fingers, so he moves them even faster, making it his life fucking goal to have you come from this

His eyes dont know what to focus on, switching from the way your tits slightly bounce, to the way his fingers disappear inside you, or to the way you’re looking at him, the dazed half lidded look, he presses against your clit just right, making you clench hard on his fingers as you ride your orgasm out, moaning into his hand, your juices coating his fingers and dripping out, he brings his hand back down from your mouth, watching the way your breathing slows, before pulling out his fingers, the loss of contact making you whimper with how sensitive you are

He brings his fingers up to his lips, locking eyes with you before putting them in his mouth, sucking your arousal off, the sight makes you let out a breathy sound, you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight from exitement

You’re blushing from the filthy act, he brings his lips to yours capturing you in a kiss, you can slightly taste your arousal on his tounge “You’re so beautiful–” you both freeze when a knock on the bathroom door slices the moment in half

“Jake are you in there man? We’re trying to choose pizza toppings– the girls said they dont care whats on the pizza, they just went outside claming they didnt want to ‘waste tanning time’ I dont know-” jay rambles on

“Yeah im in here, ill be down in a sec” Jake says, forehead resting on yours before he pulls back

“Alright- and if you find y/n tell her to come down too” Jay adds

You and Jake listen to the sound of retreating footsteps

“We should probably go down there” he says, pulling back and helping you get off the counter

“Yeah i just need to get some shorts-” You watch as he pulls your bottoms back up, adjusting them before leaning down to press one more kiss to your lips

“I’ll see you in a few minutes” He says with that familiar smirk on his lips, before walking out and shutting the door behind him, he leans against it for a second, still trying to process what just happened, before adjusting his extremely hard cock in his bottoms, and making his way downstairs.

You look in the mirror, pressing your fingers against your lips, the feeling of him kissing you lingering. Your body is still burning from the aftermath of your orgasm. You fix your hair in the mirror, going back to Gigi’s room to put on your shorts

And finally making your way down the stairs, you pause halfway when you hear Heeseung's voice

“Who y/n?” You hear him say

“Who else dumbass?” Sunghoon replies

They're talking about you. instead of going downstairs you stay there, just to see what they're saying

“Have you told her?” Jay asks

“No–I can’t fucking tell her that”

“Yeah you’re cooked” heeseung says flatly

Cooked?

“I really like her, And not in some casual hook up way okay? I don’t know whats going on, and im confused because ive never felt this way before about someone–” Jake says, breathing hard

“Shit-” You hear his friends say

“I dont give a fuck about some dumb bet, it was stupid of me–”

Your heart drops. Bet? What does he mean by that? 

“God- Why couldn't you just go after her like a normal person” jay says frustratingly

“You realise she’s gonna fucking hate you if you dont tell her” he adds

You walk further down the stairs, watching the way all four of them look at you

“W-what bet” You let out, hating yourself for stuttering

Jake's face drops in realization that you heard that, you don't even look at his friends, the ones who made you think they actually liked you. You just watch him. It was all just some play– 

“What bet Jake?” you say again, trying to calm your heartbeat, as he walks over to you, reaching for your hand

You swat his hand away “dont fucking touch me” and he flinches at that, hardly visibly. But he does. 

“Y/n-” He starts, you watch as the back porch door slides open, Gigi and Lyla walking in, with confused looks at the way everyone’s frozen in place, before their gazes fall on you

“Im going home. I- I can't do this” You say, suddenly too aware of how everyone is looking at you, unable to even look in Jake's eyes, you turn around for the front door, Jake calls your name again but you don't hear it.

Not over the sound of your heart, not over the ringing in your ears.

You can't speak when it feels like someone has a wire around your throat and you can't breathe.

You shut the front door behind you, sitting on the stairs immediately, trying to calm yourself, trying not to cry. You can't cry. Not here.

You don't look behind you when you hear the door open and shut, please don't be Jake.

“Y/n do you want me to drive you home?” you let out a relieved sigh when you hear Gigi’s voice, before standing up and nodding.

Gigi knows you, she knows you don't want to talk right now, so instead of pushing you, she turns up the music, looking at you every now and then as you stare out the window.

“You all can eat shit” Lyla says looking at the four boys in the kitchen 

“Espeicially you Heeseung, for not fucking saying anything.” She says before looking at Jake

“Ly-” Heeseung starts watching Lyla walk over to Jake

“How could you do that to her? You’re fucking terrible.” She says before storming upstairs, leaving the four of them

“I need to do something- I need to call her” Jake says pulling out his phone, Jay stop his hand

“She needs space Jake.” He says, watching him as he lowers his phone

“Fuck.” Is all he says, because Fuck himself for being so stupid, fuck him for hurting you, fuck him for not telling you sooner, if anything he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

But the least he can do is try.

୨♡୧

You cried as soon as you got home. You held it until Gigi drove off, she offered to stay but you never have people actually come inside.

Part of you regretted it, because you wish you had someone to hold you, even as you crumbled to the floor as soon as you shut the front door.

But you have no one. Not even you’re own mother, whose out with her new boyfriend, living her best life and leaving you in the past, like always.

Later that night you try and rememebr anything—how could you not see through it, of course it was some bet. He didnt mean anything he said to you, and you were stupid to think the most popular guy in the school wanted to ‘spend time with you’

Even as you shower, the memory of his hands on you not even 24 hours ago is still jarred in your mind, the reassuring touches, the praise.. But it was all just fake.

You couldnt sleep. For good reason. Every time you tried to close your eyes, your mind kept going back, trying to over analyze the situation, trying to think of an excuse.

It was 12:49 when you got the message

Jake sim: Y/n, im so sorry

Jake sim: Don’t shut me out

Jake sim: Please

Jake sim: Baby

Your press your hand to your chest, like it would stop the painful feeling in your heart.

You never answered him. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you finally fell asleep, you didn’t bother checking the time you did, because you knew you would just pity yourself.

୨♡୧

On Monday, you’re not the first one in class. Jake was. He sat in his seat next to yours, eyes flicking from your desk to the door, waiting for you to come in.

As soon as you walk in, he sits up straight, watching you walk, not towards the seat next to him but to some random one in the second row, where the guy who never shows up would sit.

He watches you take your stuff out of your bag, he looks down at the way your leg bounces, he hates himself because he knows he’s the reason you’re so fucking anxious right now.

The teacher talks like its any other day. Of course she would, she’s not going to stop the school day because he fucked up. When the bell rings you’re the first one out, he goes to call your name but stops when you rush out of the door.

“I almost beat Jay’s ass, like actually.” Gigi says before taking a bite of the cafeteria sandwhich

“Mom and dad nearly crashed out when they came home and saw I already was pulling his hair” She adds

“Can he stop fucking staring already” Lyla says, looking at you then at the table 3 rows behind where Jake was looking right at you

“Im going over there” Jake says to his friends

“Uh no dude- you’re fucking not” Sunghoon says, tugging him back down by his shoulder

Jake shrugs him off before getting up to walk over to you, ignoring the exaggerated sighs from his table

“Oh shit” Gigi mutters

“He’s like actively walking over here y/n” Lyla adds

You turn your head slightly to see him walking towards you, before standing up

“Im going to the bathroom.” You say, grabbing your bag and moving towards the door

Jakes steps falter when he watches you get up, he wants to yell at you, tell you to stop walking away from him so bad. But he knows that would make it worse. He doesn’t look at Lyla and Gigi before turning around and going back to his table.

His friends are silent when he sits down, the usual snickers, or comments don’t come.

You set your bag down by the sink, bracing your hands on it, looking in the mirror, “don’t cry, don’t cry” you whisper to yourself

“I mean I don’t get whats so fucking special about her, shes just like normal-“ You pause when you see two girls walk in, blonde, Clara.

“Well look who it is” She says walking further in, her friend beside her

“Jakes little slut” She coos, looking you up and down judgementally

“Im not-“ You start but she cuts you off

“I want you to stop talking to him.” she says, crossing her arms over her chest

“Clara-“ her friend starts

“No, this bitch needs to fuck off my man”

“You can have him.” You say, voice low

They look at each other confused

“I said you can have him.” you say, louder

“Just leave me alone.” you mutter, putting your bag over your shoulder

“The fuck-“ she starts when you walk past her before pulling you by your bag strap

She pulls your bag off your shoulder, making it fall to the ground with a thud, you don’t turn around.

You wait for the hit. Because you’re used to this, You close your eyes, tight. Trying to block off everything, when you hear Lyla

“What the fuck are you doing Clara?!” She yells, Gigi following in beside you

“Just teaching this bitch a lesson to not mess with my man-“

“Your man?” Gigi says with a scoff

“You need a fucking reality check because he does not want your ass” She adds, picking your bag up from the floor

Lyla comes infront of you “Y/n are you okay?” you nod, not because you’re okay, but because you have to be.

You block out the sound of them arguing, taking your bag from Gigi before walking out. Of course this would happen to you, and of course you’re running away.

୨♡୧

You dont talk about what happened the next day, they dont bring it up either.

They were laughing at something on Lylas phone when you got a text

Jake Sim: Are we still on for tutoring?

Jake Sim: In the library right?

You look back for a split second, over your shoulder to see him looking at you, his phone in his hand, you turn back around almost immediately, typing out a response, deleting it and typing it again

You: -Sent contact-

You: If you need tutoring so bad, he does Tuesdays too. Stop texting me.

You shut off your phone, putting it in your pocket, he watches.

Its like everything around him is silent. He cant fucking focus, coach even gave him shit for not doing good at practice yesterday. He tries to act normal, but the affect you have on him isn’t something that can go away.

“Earth to Jake” Heeseung snaps in his face to get his attention

“Motherfucker thinks he’s Jeff buckley” Sunghoon says through a snort

“Brought it on himself” Jay shrugs

“I need to get drunk” Jake says, running his hands through his hair, something hes been doing often lately

“And laid” Heeseung adds

“I can’t think about fucking another girl right now” He says, checking his phone again in hopes you sent a message

“I mean I heard Jungwon’s throwing a party after the game on Friday” Jay says, looking at the group

“Who’s going?” Jake asks

“Shit—if its Jungwon then probably half the school” Heeseung says, rubbing his jaw

“You know what, why not. The alcohol better not be shit” Jake says, making them laugh

୨♡୧

“Please y/n! We can come pick you up and everything, I know you’re not going to be doing anything either” Lyla says through the speakers of your phone

“Yeah, Fuck him, you deserve to go out, for once?” Gigi adds

“We know you’re not all that party type but just this once! Plus Jungwons house is nice as hell”

“I don’t know guys—What if he’s there?” you say worried, unlocking the front door to your house and shutting it behind you

“If he was going, Jay would have said something. I know they have a game tonight so I doubt they’re gonna wanna go to a party.” Gigi says, opening a bag of chips

“Okay but what am I supposed to wear?”

“Do you wanna get laid?” Lyla asks

“What—no”

“Im just kidding, wear that one black skirt I let you borrow and those low rise jeans”

“I never even wore it though-“

“Exactly why its perfect! Well come get you at 10, love you bye!” Layla says quickly before hanging up

You listen for Gigi, but all you hear is the faint sound of her arguing, presumably with Jay, before you hang up and set your phone on the counter.

You dont go to parties, ever. But here you are stepping out of your comfort zone, maybe its good that you’re. Maybe you need a change.

୨♡୧

“Oh hell no.” Gigi says once you all walk into the house, it's almost as big as hers, but you're not paying close attention to it because right now. instead you're watching Jake take down a shot in the kitchen. 

It smells like cheap alcohol and sweat. The place is packed, you take your eyes off him and look around, you recognize faces you've seen around campus, and some you haven't

You watch as Gigi storms over to the kitchen to Jay “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks Jay who looks at her like she has 2 heads “What am I doing here? Jungwon is my friend” He says back, you and Lyla walk over to the kitchen, following her. 

You don't look at him. You can't look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“I’ll tell mom and dad you ass-” Gigi starts

“Oh but that means they'll know you were here too” He says, faking a pout

“Shit” She replies, looking at you and Lyla

“Fine, truce.” She says, grabbing 3 red cups

You watch Jay hold out his hand, but she swats it away rolling her eyes before pouring whatever is in the bottles on the counter into the cups

“Drinks?” She says, handing you and Lyla the cups

“Please and Thank you, I need to find a hot guy to make out with” Lyla says taking the cup

“Im right here babe” Heeseung smirks, stepping closer to her

“Literally anyone but you” She says, walking away from the kitchen, you watch as he follows her

You hesitate a beat before taking the cup from her hand, Jake doesnt miss the way your eyes flick over to him for a split second

“Y/n can we-” He starts before a familiar obnoxious voice flows in the kitchen, Clara.

You watch as she walks in the kitchen, wearing practically nothing before she comes to his side, wrapping her arm around his. 

“I think you have your hands full Jake.” You say before walking over to the living room with Gigi

“Get the fuck off me Clara” He says, moving his arm

Sunghoon and Jay both look at him with annoyed expressions on their faces

“Why Jakey? She said I can have you” Clara says, words slurred from the amount of alcohol she's consumed

“What?” He pushes her back, not to hurt, but enough for her to get off of him

He walks over to Gigi, glancing at Lyla and Heeseung who are practically eating each others faces on the other couch “Wheres y/n” He says, tone serious in a way that has Gigi sitting up

“Why-”

“Tell me where she is Gi, im not fucking around.” he says, watching Gigi point to the back porch

You turn around when you hear the door behind you open, leaning against the railing 

“What are you-”

“Y/n- Fuck, please let me talk okay?” He says closing the door, the music and talking inside becoming a sound in the distance

“Jake, I can't right now” You say, looking down at your shoes as he walks over

“Please” His voice comes out slightly whiner than intended

“Baby, please look at me” He pleads, his composure gone. He’s done acting like he's okay with you avoiding him

You shake your head

He lets out a defeated sigh, you think he's going to walk away, give up.

You watch him lower himself to the ground getting on his knees just so you will look at him instead of the ground

“Y/n please listen to me” He looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed together, his pupils are blown. He can’t believe hes actually fucking doing this.

When you don't say anything, the words spill out faster than he can catch up

“Im so sorry baby– Im an asshole and I hate myself for what I did, I should have just told you from the beginning about the bet-” he cringes at the word “-It was selfish of me and I understand why you don't even want to look at me, let alone talk to me.-“

“-But I like you, so fucking much, Ive never felt like this before, but you changed that for me. You’re smart, you’re fucking gorgeous, you’re too kind for your own good, and I want you so bad, I want you so fucking bad my chest hurts at the thought of not having you. Everything I said in the car that night was true. I like spending time with you and I don't want to be friends, because what I feel for you isn't friendship–” He stops, trying to catch his breath, looking up at you, searching your face for any reaction, any response

Your hand is shaking when it comes up to his face, slightly brushing his hair out of the way “I..” You close your eyes before opening them again, “I really like you too Jake. But you hurt me, I let you in and it feels like it was all just some trick.” You say, trying to hold the tears threatening to fall from your eyes

“No baby–It wasn't a trick, please, everything I said to you I meant it–” He leans forward resting his head on your stomach before looking back up at you

“Every touch, I meant it.” His hand comes up to hold your waist, before he stands up, looking down at you, placing his finger under your chin, before running his thumb along your bottom lip “Every word” His other hand pulls you closer to him “Every kiss.” He whispers, leaning down, lips grazing over yours “I meant it all.”

You're breathing against his mouth, hearts beating the same rapid pace “And I want it all–so bad, I want all of you y/n, I don't want you to hide from me, I don't want you to run” He says, cupping your face in his hands, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours

“Please-”

“I want it too Jake” You whisper

His eyes fly open, searching yours, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, taking you slightly by shock with how desperate it is, his left hand slides from your face down to your waist, holding you close, like you would slip away if he let go.

He pulls back, just to see the look on your face, a single string of saliva keeping you two connected before he kisses your neck, whispering small “im sorrys” as he trails his lips along your jaw, making you let out breathy sounds that have him weak.

He captures your lips in a kiss again, tongue exploring your mouth in the way he’s been dreaming about ever since you started avoiding him.

He feels his cock hardening, he remembers the way he fucked his fist at the thought of having you like this again.

“Fuck–” He breathes out, before biting your lip lightly, making you let out a small whimper. “I.. I need you baby, please” He says, bringing his hand down to softly caress your ass in your jeans, you bring your hand up to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt to kiss him again before he pulls back “Not here.” He whispers, voice low, looking into your eyes with such intensity it has your knees weak. 

With the way you're looking at him right now, he wants to do it now.

But he’s not having sex with you at some dumbass house party. He can't help the smirk on his face when you whine as he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside, you don't look at anyone except him, as he guides you through the crowd, his hand clasping tight in yours, until you reach his car.

“What street do you live on?” He asks, looking at you, before pulling out onto the road, you hesitate, he notices “Y/n, no hiding” He says, putting his hand on your thigh. “167 EN drive” you reply back quietly, part of you hoping he wouldn't hear. But you remind yourself of the words he said earlier, he wants all of you, he said he craves it. So that’s what he'll get.

You watch his face as he pulls in your drive way, looking at your house. You don't see the look of hesitance, or disappointment you were expecting.

Your anxiety boils down when he steps out of the car, and comes to your side to open your door for you. “You’re not disappointed or anything?” You ask, voice slightly shaky 

“Dissapointed?” He asks, genuinely confused

“I mean, my mom just doesn't make a lot– I know its not a good area to live in either-”

“Y/n, do you think I'd judge you for something as small as where you live?” He asks, shutting the passenger side door

“I just thought-” 

“No. I’d be a fool to think like that. Nothing you do could make me judge you, the idea of doing that in the first place disgusts me.” He says, hand rising to brush his thumb on the side of your face, waiting for you to invite him in. He wants you to, he wants the reassurance that you trust him. 

You walk to the front door, grabbing the key hidden under the mat before unlocking it, and stepping inside. You cringe at the slightly peeled paint on the walls, but also thankful that having the house to yourself means it's actually clean for once. He shuts the door behind him, watching the way you look around, the insecurity showing in your body language. He turns you around to face him, pulling you close before tilting your face up. 

You look between his eyes and his lips before leaning up slightly, your lips grazing over his, before he speaks “tell me how bad you want this, tell me you want it as much as I do” He whispers, even though no one can hear him but you.

“I want it Jake– I want it so bad, I just want you..” you breathe out, and he closes the small space instantly, the feeling of your heart beating, the thrill of his lips on yours will never get old.

He lets you guide him to your room, before shutting the door behind him, he pulls back looking down at you. The needy look on your face as you try to catch your breath.

The room is dimly lit, the moon is bright from the clear sky, illuminating you, allowing him to see every emotion that flashes across your face.

He steps closer to you, hand coming to your waist, his thumb making small circles near the hem. You nod, and he slowly lifts your shirt above your head, eyes dropping to your chest, he can't help himself when his hand comes up to cup your tit in his hand, kneading the soft flesh through your bra. “Youre so beautiful” He says, guiding you until you land on your bed, He follows, on top of you in a second, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, it’s careful, timeless.

You kiss him back, lips desperately grasping onto each other as his hand trails down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, your breath hitches, he pauses looking down at you “can I take these off?” He asks, “y-yes” you manage to let out, not sure how you can even get out words when he has you like this.

He unbottons your jeans, sitting up to slide them down your legs, throwing them on the floor before looking at you, taking you in, trying to savor this in his memory.

He watches the way your legs close, stopping them with his hand "Don't hide from me.” He says, pushing them open, looking down at the way your underwear sticks to your pussy, biting his lip at the sight, you let out a soft whine at being exposed like this, because no one has ever seen you this way, this vulnerable.

He presses a kiss to your neck, “Have you thought about this before?” He asks, tongue flicking on a new found sensitive spot under your ear, you nod. He lets his hand trail down your body before cupping your clothed cunt in his hand, you let out a quiet moan at the contact.

“Did you touch yourself thinking about it?” He kisses the spot under your ear, pulling the honesty out of you.

Your mind goes back to that night he kissed you in the car, how you made yourself come on your fingers at the memory of his hands on you later that night– “yes.” You say, the honesty makes him smile against your neck

“Can you show me?” He whispers, sitting up again, watching the way you willingly trail your hand down your body, slipping your fingers inside the waistband of your panties to brush your soaking clit, closing your eyes.

You open them again when the bed shifts, watching Jake as he takes off his shirt tossing it on the floor beside your pants, before removing his own, you press harder on your clit when your eyes meet the bulge in his boxers, there's no way that's fitting in you. He watches your reaction, "I'll make sure you're ready for it baby” He says, palming himself. You slide your underwear off your legs, the fabric was making it hard to really touch yourself anyway.

Your hand slides back between your legs, circling your clit, the same way he did that time in the bathroom. “Fuck–” He hisses, squeezing his dick at the way your hand comes up to toy with your nipple through your bra.

You watch as he climbs back in between your legs, leaning down to kiss your lips, trailing down past your neck, leaving a trail of wet marks until his face is hardly an inch away from your pussy.

You move your hand to grip the sheets beneath you “Jake..” You watch as he looks up at you from in between your legs. He blows on your clit, watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing. He presses small kisses to your thigh, grazing over your sensitive bud with his plump lips. “You have no idea how bad I've wanted to do this” He says before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your soaking cunt, you let out a moan at the contact, hands flying up to touch his hair as he repeats the motion.

You didn't even know you could be this vocal, but with him, eating you out like a starved man, how could you not.

He flicks his tongue over your clit, practically drooling onto your pussy, before pressing soft kisses “Tastes so fucking good” He mumbles into you, the vibration making your hips buck, his hand come up to hold your stomach down, so you dont squirm as much.

You watch him, his eyes are closed, face expressing true pleasure, your juices coating the bottom half of his face.

He looks up at you, burying his nose in your pussy, letting the bridge of it pressure your throbbing clit before he sucks on it, mouth clasped around your pussy, flicking his tounge, swirling it, you tug his hair harder, but he doesnt care because this is just too fucking good.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out when his finger comes up to collect your juices seeping from your hole before inserting the single digit inside of you, the sound of your pussy squelching, and him groaning into you has your back arches off the bed when he curls his finger, his tongue flicking over your clit, before he adds another, you've never felt this good in your life, you watch him, the way his brows furrow in concentration as he brings the most pleasurable experience upon you. 

He fucks his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right, while his lips suck on your clit greedily, he looks up for a split second at the way your head is thrown back, before shoving his fingers deep, dick throbbing at the way you clench around them, taking your clit in is mouth, and sucking it, hard. You grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you reach your orgasm, your whole body shaking “Jake!” You scream out through a moan as your juices coat his face, soaking the bed beneath you. He greedily licks, and slurps everything you let out, not letting anything go to waste, before looking up at you. He pulls his fingers out slowly, watching the way your body trembles.

You bite your lip as you watch him sit up again, your arousal coating his lips, he runs his tongue along them, savoring every drop. 

He slides his boxers off, his dick hitting his abdomen, thick, heavy, and a bead of pearly white pre-cum at the tip, you watch as he spreads it on his tip, stroking himself in his hand. “You wanna know something?” He asks, watching the way your eyes flick between his face and his cock.

You nod quickly, making him smirk. “Ive dreamt about this moment almost every night. I remember waking up–” He looks down at your bare cunt, continuing “To see that I fucking came in my sleep.” You can't help the small gasp that leaves your mouth at the confession, "That's not all.” He says, pulling you closer, unclasping your bra and tossing it on the ground.

You bite your lip as the crisp air that hits your nipples, his finger comes up to toy with the sensitive bud, looking at your reaction, the little gasps that leave your lips “I fucked my fist so many times–everytime I imagined it was your pussy” He whispers, leaning down, letting his lips graze over your nipple, making you let out a desperate sound

“I thought about how you’d react when I did this–” He says before sucking on your nipple, his hand toying with the other one between his fingers making you moan, uncontrolled, you feel the way his cock rubs against your inner thigh.

He sits up, guiding his cock to your entrance, coating his tip with your juices from your previous orgasm. He slides the tip in slowly, letting your pussy adjust to the size, groaning, “Baby, I need you to relax okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, finger rubbing circles on your inner thigh “mhm” you breathe out, before closing your eyes, trying to make yourself less tense as he slides more of his length in you

“Fuck- youre so warm” He says, hand moving to your hips to steady himself before bottoming out, a wrecked sound leaving his lips at the way your pussy clenches around him.

He leans down, head resing beside yours before lifting to look at you “Im going to move now, can you take it?” he asks, voice strained, but gentle “Please–” You let out through a whimper, he brings his lips to yours before pulling out halfway and thrusting back into you, making you moan into his mouth at the stretch. His cock reaching places you couldn't even imagine with your fingers, the feeling of being so full is almost euphoric.

“It's like this pussy was made for me baby–you feel so good” He whispers, sliding out of you again, and then back in, hips moving in an agonizing slow rhythm that has you holding onto his biceps and panting desperately in his mouth.

“F-faster?” you manage to let out, making him chuckle lightly “You sure?” he asks, looking down at you and the way you nod frantically. His lips suck at your neck as he picks up his speed thrusting in and out of you, hips rolling, enjoying every sound you let out.

Your nails dig into his arms, your pussy squeezing around him “You close baby?” he asks, the moan you let out is enough for him to understand, “I wanna come in you while you come on my cock, please?” the begging tone in his voice making you let out desperate pleas, his mouth is back on yours, both of you completely lost in the pleasure of each other, moaning against each other's mouths before he thrusts into you, hard, your pussy clenches around him, grinding up and down as you ride your orgasm out, at the same time milking his cock, making him whimper against you, saying your name though it all.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, before slowly inching his cock out, his cum spilling out of your pussy, you both wince at the sensitiveness, he pulls back looking down at you

“Where's your towels baby?” He asks, voice soft, you point towards the second drawer of your dresser, he grabs one coming back over to you, kneeling down to clean you up, you admire him, the focused look on his face, he looks up at you smiling “What?” He says through a chuckle

“You’re just really cute when you're focused” He climbs up till he's laid next to you, pulling himself closer to your warm embrace, resting his face on your chest, making you let out a giggle before he looks at you

“I want to be your boyfriend y/n” He says, emotion raw in his tone 

“W-what?” You're caught off guard by the question

“Can I be your boyfriend?” He asks, voice low, almost shy

“Please?” he adds

You smile, biting your lip “yes, you can” You whisper, he tilts his head to kiss you again, embracing your warmth, you pull back 

“You’re not going to get me flowers or anything?” You ask brow raising

“Oh, you just wait for tomorrow” He smiles against your lips

୨♡୧

Jake left your house that morning, kissing you goodbye, and saying to be ready by six at the latest, you were already dressed at 5. 

The second you hear a knock at the door you rush to get it, swinging it open, heart beating fast when you see him, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, with a smile on his face

“Jake–They’re so pretty” You smile, taking them from his hand

“You’re prettier” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips before taking your hand and dragging you to his car.

He covers your eyes with his hands when he makes you get out of the car “Y/n you better not peak” he says, tickling your ear with his mouth, guiding you somewhere

“Shit- dont trip” He says, kicking a rock out of the way

You let out a laugh at how stressed he is right now

“Okay, three, two..” He removes his hand from your eyes, adjusting to the light you look around, at the open field, the sunset turning a pink/ orange hue in the distant, before your eyes fall to the setting before you, you cover your mouth with your hand, smiling against it as you look at the picnic before you

The Jake Sim set up a picnic for you at sunset. you can't help but giggle into your palm, turning to look at him

“Its perfect Jake” You say throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his lips

He smiles proudly, taking pride in the fact that he’s able to please you like this

He helps you sit down, before coming next to you, watching the way you glow from the golden light on you.

“You’re telling me Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon made these?” You say taking a bite of the small strawberry shortcake, the flavors melting in your mouth 

“Yeah, they spent all day trying to figure out how, finding recipes and stuff” He says through a laugh

“Said it was their own way of apologizing” He lifts his finger to wipe frosting from your chin, bringing it up to lick it, smiling at you

“Tell them they're going to have to make me 10 more batches of this, because it might just be the best strawberry shortcake to date.” You say, completely serious 

“They were considering opening a bakery” Jake says through a laugh, that has you join him

As the sun sets, you lean on his shoulder, you’re not thinking about the stressful things in your life like you normally do in quiet moments, right now it's you and him.

And you're at peace with that, because you feel like you've finally found your person.

“Thank you y/n” Jake says, turning his head to look at you

“For what?” you ask, voice barely a whisper

“Forgiving me, letting me in, it means a lot to me. And I'm really glad you did.” He says, moving a strand of hair behind your ear 

“Thank you” You say so quietly, he almost wouldn't be able to hear it, he tilts his head in question

“For being there for me, and accepting me.” You say softly, he smiles before he cups the side of your face in his hand pulling you closer, and kissing you, gently..lovingly.

୨♡୧

And if I wrote reader giving him head for the first time and he actually goes insane

Okay sorry guys i'm just down bad as fuck

Thanks for reading! <3

@heebambilee @apriglw @nikimuraaa @fics-lovebot @hi00000234567 @h7llow @sooberriesx @jvngw0nlvr @middstape @vveebee @si3rren @ilovewomensbasketball @periwinkleandtwilight @rianzysworld @ligmqballs @liaviva @renatojr @ily6968 @jungwon67 @enhypen437 @guliexe @sunnysidesins @xoxoamadeo @p--j--s--j @rki7jaykewife @dulzuraaii @fancypeacepersona @supahintohoon @vmpwon @jimmiwuwaiting @woninlove @poopieboat @woonielvr

[janiary]

WHITE CARDIGAN . ݁⋆ 𝜗𝜚⋆. ݁ P.SH

pairing ‎ꪆৎ cheater!sunghoon x sidechick!reader

summary ꪆৎ A good boyfriend isn’t supposed to offer another girl his hoodie. Especially not to you, shivering without your cardigan, your bare shoulders giving his eyes reason to stray. To be fair, Sunghoon never claimed to be a good boyfriend.

18+ mdni ⚠︎ smut, college au, emotional/physical cheating, morally grey characters, mean dom!sunghoon, sub!reader, possessiveness, “innocent” reader, corruption kink, degradation, praise, begging, slut-shaming, p in v, blowjob, face fucking, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, semi-clothed sex, rough sex, semi-public sex (bathroom stall)

word count ꪆৎ 3.5k

author note ꪆৎ hello… i’m struggling with my other wips so I present to you a surprise return of cheater hoon :)

Sunghoon is a weak man.

Not physically. Obviously. He can easily deadlift twice his weight without breaking a sweat. Not mentally, either. His grades are sharp, his discipline something to be admired.

But when it comes to you? ...Yeah. He's weak. He's completely and utterly helpless to the fact that he wants you that badly. Especially today.

Your arms and shoulders were usually concealed with a white cardigan. It's this soft-looking thing, cute and girlish like the rest of you, always draped over your shoulders like the picture-perfect image of innocence, and always sliding down one shoulder, just enough to tease the idea of what you'd look like stripped of said innocence. Just enough to make him (and other guys, he's sure) imagine what it would be like to get close enough to catch the scent of your sweet perfume lingering on the cotton fibres and to rip it off of you.

You’re not wearing it today, though. He noticed the absence the moment you slid into the seat beside him at the library, beaming at him with that smile he usually couldn't get enough of. Only this time, his gaze didn't linger on your face for long. It drifted instead to your bare arms, your shoulders, the elegant curve of your collarbone, the way your lace-trimmed camisole hugged the swell of your chest—then flicked back up the moment you looked at him again, careful not to let on that he'd been staring.

"Oh? What's this?" You nod toward the coffee sitting at your spot. "Is this for me?"

"Got myself something, so..." he shrugs casually—as if waiting in line for ten minutes because he remembered you like oat milk with an extra pump of vanilla is anything casual.

"Really?" you breathe, already tugging your laptop and notebook from your bag, your face lit with pleased surprise. "Gosh, Hoon. That's so sweet of you. You really didn't have to."

He has to physically resist the urge to smile like an idiot.

Anything for you, he wants to say. "It's nothing," is what comes out instead, accompanied by a polite smile.

Because that's what guys with girlfriends are technically supposed to do.

Guys with girlfriends are also technically supposed to feel guilty for thinking about thoughts they shouldn't, and lying about who they're studying with. Sunghoon doesn't feel guilty, though. He hadn't felt that way twenty minutes ago when his girlfriend texted him—Study hard. Miss you—to which he had yet to answer. He still doesn't.

You'd been assigned as project partners last semester. You were kind, and funny, and so unbearably pretty that just looking at you felt like a small betrayal. Hence why he kept answering your texts when you asked him to study. Hence why his girlfriend doesn't know you exist. Hence why he's here, sitting in the school library with you, your hands wrapped around the warmth of the small coffee he'd bought you, and your whole body shivering because for some reason the building was running air-conditioning in the middle of winter.

He tries not to stare the whole time. He works. Helps you with the assignment you're both working on. Says a few things that make you laugh. Steals glances when you're leaning over your notebook, when your neckline dips just a little bit too low, at the lace of your pink bra peeking out from under your top's little straps. And then he's watching your neck, all lovely and exposed, wondering if he'd only need one of his hands to wrap around the whole of it, just imagining how much lovelier it would look covered in his markings.

Then he notices the goosebumps on your delicate skin, how your hands move to rub up and down the length of your arms in an attempt to warm yourself.

It's strange. You always wear your white cardigan.

"Cold?" He asks.

"Mm," you nod, flashing a pained smile, "Accidentally left my sweater in the lecture hall earlier. Couldn't find it after, though..."

Your lower lip quivers, a pretty sigh escaping you as your hands fall from your arms to rub together. Suddenly, the weight of his zip-up hoodie feels uselessly heavy on his shoulders, as the thought of offering it to you becomes more and more appealing.

He shouldn't offer. He really, really, shouldn't. Free coffees and studying together is one thing. Offering you his clothes is another thing entirely. But he can't just ignore you, can he? He shoves the brief image of his girlfriend's face from his mind. You're shivering, teeth chattering, and he's feeling hotter by the second. It would be plain cruel to leave you like this.

"You can take mine."

You blink, a flicker of hesitation in your expression, and it makes him want to sink into the floor, because you know. You’re aware that he’s taken, and the implications that come with his offer.

"I mean, only if you want," he adds, regret and embarrassment creeping up on him in the form of a flush to his cheeks.

Was it weird to offer? Do you think he's trying to hit on you? If that were the case... hypothetically... would you think less of him for it?

"I'm not sure..."

Shame begins to encompass him wholly, and he looks back to his laptop screen thinking that maybe it would be best to pretend he never said it all. And then—

"I wouldn't want you to be cold, either."

He whips his head back around.

The look on your face is beautifully pitiful, and his heart aches at the sight of it alone. To think you would put his comfort above your own... That's just the thing with you. You're so, painfully, achingly sweet.

"I'm not cold. Too hot, actually," he's already reaching for the zipper, until it zips all the way down, trying not to enjoy the way your eyes drag down his arms and shoulders too much.

He wraps the hoodie around you, and when you slip your arms into the sleeves and pull the hood over your head, something possessive clicks into place. It's already oversized on him. On you, though? It swallows you whole. You're wearing his scent, his warmth, and his rational mind is already giving up.

"Thank you." You look to him shyly, pushing the sleeves up so that your hands can poke through.

"You don't need to thank me."

"You're kidding, right? I can't thank you enough." You're sighing into the newfound warmth, wrapping the fabric closer around you. Then, you're looking right at him, looking devastatingly grateful as you tilt your head. "You're really amazing, you know that?"

The cold air against his bare skin does nothing to cool him down. Now he knows, with certainty, that he really shouldn't have offered you that sweater. Not only because he'll never be able to get the sight of you wearing it out of his mind, but because it was the first moment he realized that without even touching you, he'd already betrayed his own principles beyond redemption.

"Next time, coffee's on me, m'kay? Gotta let me repay you for... you know." You gesture to the coffee, the sweater, the assignment you've both barely touched. "Everything—“

"No." The word comes out almost immediately, and a little too harsh.

His eyes drop to your body, your frame in his sweater, to your soft, kissable-looking lips, and his last thread of restraint snaps.

He's already imagined, countless times, how he'd take you. It's been playing on repeat in his mind for the past hour. What difference does speaking it out loud make?

His lips pull into a wicked grin.

"I know something else you could do, though."

Oh, and you’re repaying him, alright.

Repaying him tenfold on the floor of the men's bathroom, the tile cold beneath your knees as he threads his hands firmly through your hair. The sound of the library's ventilation system does nothing to drown out the wet, sloppy sound of your mouth working around his cock.

"Shit. You're eager," he rasps, laughing to hide the small hiss that escapes him. "Real fucking good with your mouth, too."

You try to say something, but your words are reduced to a muffled, needy whimper against his length. The same mouth that had been smiling at him over coffee not an hour ago now stretched around his cock. He lets out a low laugh at the sound, and the whole filthy, picture-perfect sight of it.

"My sweet girl," he breathes, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Where'd you learn to be such a little slut?"

He’s glad you can’t respond. He doesn't want to think about what your answer would be.

He hasn't moved your head yet, just letting you do all the work, and you're doing it beautifully, your throat relaxing for him bit by bit, your grasp growing more certain with every stroke.

Earlier, when he'd pressed you against the stall and kissed you breathless, you'd murmured something against his mouth about not really knowing what you were doing. He'd assumed that meant rusty. Lack of practice. Maybe a little nervous. It didn't matter to him. It just made it hotter watching those doe eyes looking up at him, so sweet, so fervent, while your mouth worked him like a champ.

"Think you can take more for me, pretty girl?" He coos, thumb tracing the stretched corner of your lips. "You're doing such a good job. I know you can."

Then his fingers tighten in your hair, and he takes over.

He shoves, and you instantly gag as he hits the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes, your throat fluttering wildly around him, and for a second he just holds you there, groaning at the tight, spasming heat. He swipes one away almost tenderly even as he holds you there, buried deep, feeling you struggle.

"You okay?" He hums, "Just breathe."

You nod. Then, something shifts. You breathe through your nose. Your jaw relaxes. And your throat opens just enough to let him sink in, smooth as silk, and the sudden ease makes his breath hitch.

"Shit, that's it. You're a natural, hm?" He says, wickedly proud, marvelling at you. "Fucking gorgeous."

He thrusts a few more times, deep enough to make you feel every inch, to let him savour the sight, and rough enough to satisfy the part of him that almost feels the need to punish you for all the months of pure torture he’s been put through. But the tender side of him, the side that can’t help but look at your wide-eyed obedience with affection, eases back. He doesn't want to overwork you. There’s no point in it when he has other things on his mind.

He pulls you off, and you gasp, lips parted and glistening, eyes glassy and unfocused. For half a second you just kneel there, breathing hard, but before he can even tell you you've done enough, you're on him again. Mouthing the side of his shaft, kissing down to the base, hand still stroking him. There's drool on your chin, tear stains on your cheeks, precum smeared across your lips, and you're looking up at him with those eyes, just moaning at the taste of him. The sight alone could take him out.

And... shit, as much as he'd love to let you play with him as long as you want, he'd rather watch you fall apart on his cock instead.

"Fuck. You're killing me."

He hauls you up before you can take him back in your mouth. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, your back hitting the cold tiles of the stall wall with a thud, and the gasp you make is swallowed instantly. His mouth crashes onto yours, tongue pushing past your lips, and he tastes himself there, a possessive, prideful rush running through him. It makes him groan into the kiss, one hand sliding from your jaw to your throat, while the other vanishes beneath the hem of your skirt.

Not wasting a second, his fingers hook into the lace of your panties, delicate and feminine and thoroughly ruined from just how soaked you are. He tugs them down, tossing them somewhere on the floor and hoists you up, your legs flying around his waist.

One arm locks beneath your thighs, steadying you against the stall wall, and he just holds you there, cradled and captive, awestruck by how perfect you look like this, in his sweater, legs spread open for him—flushed, trembling and all his.

His free hand trails down, and his fingers circle your clit in a slow, torturous rhythm, feeling you jerk and quiver against him. He dips his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"So fucking wet," he murmurs. His fingers keep circling, lazy and torturous, feeling you twitch. "Is this all for me? You want me to ruin that pretty little pussy? Want me to fuck you right here, right now, where anyone could hear?"

You can't speak. Can barely breathe. You just nod, frantic, your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more.

"Yeah?" He grins, and his hand withdraws, leaving you desperate and aching, and he shifts his hips, the head of his cock nudging against your pussy. Just the barest pressure. Just the threat of entry. Your whole body tenses in anticipation, and then—he stops. His hand reaches for your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"Beg for it."

"Sunghoon—"

"Beg for my cock like a good slut. Tell me how much you—"

"Please." You don't hesitate. You don't even let him finish his sentence. "Please just fuck me. Please, Hoon—"

For a second, he just stares at you in absolute disbelief. Then his grin returns, sharper.

"Holy shit." He breathes, half-laugh, half-groan. "So fucking desperate. My perfect little slut."

And then he pushes in. He does it slow on purpose just to watch your face as he stretches you open. Your body resists for just a second, then yields, and the gasp that leaves you goes straight to his ego. The sweetest goddamn sound he's ever heard.

"Shit," he breathes out, sinking into your pussy, watching it swallow every inch of him. "My pretty little secret. You promise not to tell anyone, right? Not your little girlfriends. Not mine. This is just between us, right?”

You shake your head frantically, a desperate little whimper escaping your lips as he buries himself all the way in.

"Good girl." He grins, wolfish and more than ready to ruin you properly. His hand slides up to grasp your neck, his grip firm, but only there to hold as he pulls out all the way. He does it just to watch you squirm, to hear the broken little whine that escapes you at the emptiness, before slamming back in, one brutal thrust. "Just keep that pretty mouth shut, and I'll give it to you whenever you want. Yeah?"

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, fucking you senseless. Every stroke fills you to the brim, over and over, and you cling to his shoulders to brace yourself. Your nails dig into him, and your voice fractures into moans so broken, so overwhelmed by the sensation of being so full of him. He just fucks you harder, watching your face, mesmerized by the ruin of you.

"So fucking tight," he hisses, nearly needing to push back against the urge to finish right there.

"So—so much. Hoon—" you cry out, your body clamping down around him, and the sound of his name breaking on your lips nearly undoes him.

"Yeah?" He pauses for a heartbeat, his hand sliding up to thumb the fabric of his sweater—the thing you're still wearing.

He pushes it up, exposing your heaving chest, your breasts cupped in pretty lace, the whole obscene picture of you: fucked out, full of him, wearing his clothes like you belong to him.

"God. Look at you." He breathes, thumbing the lace, eyes dark and intense with lust and possession, "My sweet girl in her pretty little bra, taking my cock so well. Wearing my sweater. You're so perfect."

He pushes the bra up roughly, freeing your breasts, and his mouth descends. He sucks enough to leave a mark, while his hand kneads the other. You buck against him, a whimper catching in your throat, one hand threading through the strands of his hair, which makes him grin.

"Hoon—"

"You gonna cum?" He teases, lifting his head to look at you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock like a good girl. Lemme feel it."

His mouth claims yours, swallowing every shattered cry as your body seizes around him. You clench tight, and he groans into the kiss, feeling you fall apart—and that feeling alone breaks something in him, feeling himself approach his own high.

"Fucking take it." He pants against your lips. "Take every last drop. All of it."

With one final thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, your body firmly pressed to the bathroom stall wall, and he lets go. A groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, filling you up, marking you somewhere no one can see. Somewhere only he'll know.

Later, he drives you back to your place.

You sit in the passenger seat with his hoodie still bundled around you, your lips kiss-swollen. His hand rests on your thigh, thumb stroking small circles into your skin.

He should probably feel an aching sense of regret. Maybe a hollowness, as he processes the aftermath. He doesn't though. He doesn’t know what he expects from himself at this point. Honestly, the idea that alone almost makes him laugh out loud—as if he could ever regret any of it.

The way you'd looked up at him in the bathroom, wide-eyed, almost nervous, but so goddamn eager to please, replays on loop in his head. The way you'd trembled when he touched you, like no one had ever touched you properly before, but arched into him regardless. The little sounds you'd made, surprised and helpless, as if you couldn't believe what was happening—the begging.

You'll be good for me, won't you?

Damn right, you were. So fucking good. So sweet. So precious.

He pulls up in front of your place, and you turn to him.

"Thanks for the ride. And for... you know."

You both laugh a little at the implication, knowing damn well his cum is probably still leaking out of you, soaking your underwear. Shit, if he had any less self-restraint than he already does, he'd take you again right here in his car.

"I'll see you again soon?" You ask it so sweetly his chest aches.

He doesn’t answer right away. He just grins, cocky, but when he pulls you in and captures your lips in his, swallowing your sound of surprise, the kiss comes out tender. Soft, slow, a little desperate, and far too affectionate for a girl that technically isn't his, but he's long since stopped giving a fuck. His thumb strokes your jaw while his tongue sweeps your lower lip, and for a second he forgets he's inside a car—and that he's supposed to pick up his girlfriend right after. He just loses himself in the taste of your lips: sweet like sugar, filthy like what you swallowed an hour ago.

It lasts a while, and he lets it. Indulges himself in the feeling of your hands curling into fists against his shirt, and your soft, pliant mouth against his, and when he finally, grudgingly, pulls back, he can't help but chase your lips again. He dips back in for one last taste, a half-groan caught in his throat as he offers a peck.

"See you," he breathes against your lips, before pulling away entirely.

Your eyes flutter open, your lips still slightly parted. You look wrecked. You look innocent. You look exactly how he wants you to look. Fucking hell.

The passenger door clicks open, and you slip out of the car, still wearing his hoodie. He doesn’t bother asking for it back. It looks better on you anyway, he thinks to himself, watching you pull yourself together at the curb.

You turn once, give a little wave, and sling your backpack over your shoulder.

That's when he sees it.

Your backpack, open just a crack, reveals enough to see the sleeve of something soft and white, bunched up inside, zipper pulled just far enough to hide it—or so you thought.

Your cardigan.

nav ✰.ᐟ m.list ✰.ᐟ thanks for reading ♡

[candidupped]

damn hoon

[in-enha-world]

Special roommate

Pairing : snow leopard hybrid sunghoon x human reader Genre : non-idol AU, fluff, mention of past abuse and hybrid illegal trafic Synopsis : Y/N thought she was being burgled when she heard a noise in her home in the middle of the night, but instead discovered a lost and injured snow leopard hybrid. What better way to brighten her lonely days than to keep it with her?

Having dogs, cats, rabbits, and even turtles as pets was perfectly normal. But having lions, otters, foxes, or even snakes as pets was original.

However, it was entirely possible thanks to hybrids. This new species of humans, half-animal, half-human, had appeared several decades ago and lived among humans. Some were adopted by families, and others lived their lives alone.

Hybrids were well integrated into society, but it wasn't uncommon for malicious people to want them for the black market. The government was uncompromising with such individuals.

Y/N had never really thought about adopting a hybrid. Even though she was alone and her family lived on the other side of the country, she liked her peace and quiet. She worked as a veterinary assistant and thus often interacted with animals and hybrids who came for treatment.

She was returning from a particularly exhausting shift, wanting nothing more than to take a shower and sleep. She entered her house, not bothering to turn on the lights. The young woman just went to close the living room sliding door, not noticing the large hole in the screen.

After a quick shower, Y/N collapsed into her bed, ready to sleep. She had been in bed for a good two hours when she was woken by noise in her living room, as if someone was moving her furniture. Silently, she got up, grabbing the baseball bat under her bed.

Holding her makeshift weapon in her hands, she entered the living room, turning on the lights, a cry escaping her at the furry shape under the table. The snow leopard jumped in fright, knocking over the coffee table in the process. It went to take refuge in a corner of the room, growling in her direction.

Having regained her composure, Y/N set her bat down on the floor and raised her hands to show she wasn't threatening. This was undoubtedly a hybrid, unless a snow leopard had escaped from the nearest zoo.

"Easy, easy. I'm sorry I screamed, you just caught me by surprise. I guess I scared you too." She approached slowly, stopping occasionally when the animal growled at her. The young woman put one knee on the ground, reaching her hand out toward it.

"I'm Y/N. I know you're a hybrid, and you seem injured," she said, looking at the bloodstain on its fur. "I'm a veterinarian, I can help you if you want. You're safe here, no one can hurt you."

The snow leopard calmed down, stretching its head to sniff her hand, then advanced hesitantly. Y/N smiled, gently stroking its head before standing up, going to get the first aid kit from the kitchen.

The hybrid didn't move when she returned, watching her with its large dark eyes. Y/N put on sterile gloves and then knelt in front of him. "So, where are you injured?"

The feline lay down on the cold tile floor, and she could see the wound covering his right thigh. She grabbed something to disinfect the wound, applying disinfectant to the gash, which made him whimper.

"I know, I know, it's almost over." She finished cleaning the wound, wrapping a bandage around his thigh to cover the injury and protect it. "Alright, done! Are you hungry?"

He purred softly, and she smiled, standing up to throw all her medical supplies and gloves in the trash. Y/N took out a Tupperware container with leftover bibimbap from the day before, heated it up, and placed the bowl in front of him.

"You can eat human food even in animal form, right?"

She got her answer when the leopard pounced on the food as if he hadn't had a real meal in days. She also gave him a bowl of water before returning to her room. Y/N had just lain back down when she saw the feline's little head appear through the doorway. She patted the mattress, and the snow leopard jumped onto the bed to lie down.

The young woman soon fell back asleep, her slow, steady breathing lulling the hybrid. Sunghoon had only wanted to find a refuge to escape his captors. He had fled from a hybrid trafficking ring and entered the first open house he could find. He hadn't expected Y/N to welcome him like this and even allow him to stay. Finally safe, his eyes closed, and exhaustion took over.

Y/N woke up the next morning with Sunghoon sprawled across the mattress, his furry body rising gently with each breath. She smiled, getting up to get ready. The hybrid came out of the room, yawning, as she prepared breakfast.

"I have to go to work, but I'll be back early this evening, around 5 p.m., okay? Get some rest."

She placed several bowls of food on the kitchen floor so he wouldn't go hungry during her absence, then stroked his head before leaving the house. Sunghoon stayed alone during the day, sleeping most of the time. He hadn't been able to sleep well before, always having to stay alert. But at Y/N's, he was safe.

Around 5 p.m., he heard Y/N's keys jingling from outside. He jumped off the couch and trotted toward her as she came through the door. "Hey, how was your day? Is your leg hurting too much?"

He pressed his head against her stomach, purring, the young woman put one knee on the ground to stroke him and give him scratches. Y/N went to change in her room, where she found the sheets on her bed tangled, the snow leopard having surely rolled around in them, which made her smile.

Back in the living room, she sat on the couch, the hybrid jumping up beside her. "So, I was wondering, do you already have a home? Or a family?" Sunghoon shook his head before placing it on her lap. "So I was thinking I could adopt you, if you want? I'm alone, so you could live here and have a comfortable life. Especially since you're still injured and need to heal."

His ears perked up on his head. She really wanted to adopt him? He could stay with her forever, watch over her and protect her like she had done for him? That was all he wanted! He buried his head in the crook of her neck, purring, and Y/N chuckled.

"Okay, okay! I'll take that as a yes."

She had already brought an adoption form from her veterinary clinic in case the hybrid agreed right away. Y/N filled in the various information about him, Sunghoon watched over her shoulder.

"Well, the last thing is I need your full name, which will be difficult if you're still in animal form since you can't speak." She tapped her pencil on her chin, thinking of a way. Y/N eventually drew an alphabet on a blank sheet of paper, and the hybrid pressed his paw on each letter to form his name. "Park Sunghoon," she read. "Great! I just need to send the form, and you'll officially be my hybrid. What do you think about that, Hoon?"

His tail wagged behind him as he jumped on her to settle across her lap. It wasn't such a bad idea after all, he would keep her company.

It had now been several weeks since Sunghoon had been living with Y/N, and he had never known such a good life. He still hadn't taken human form because of his injury but would be able to do so very soon.

He was very grateful to be able to stay with her and loved her dearly. He often slept in her bed at night to sleep beside her and watch over her, and didn't hesitate to snuggle up to her when she was home.

Y/N was returning from a day of work, appointments had piled up, and night had already fallen when she stepped through the door. She took off her shoes, her bag hit the floor with a dull thud. Going to the living room as usual to see Sunghoon, she didn't expect to see a young man in his place.

Tall, with fluffy grey ears amidst black strands and a long tail moving from left to right, he seemed to be sleeping. The young woman silently approached him so as not to disturb him, leaning over him. It was the first time she had seen him in human form, and he was gorgeous.

Sunghoon opened his eyes, meeting her gaze, and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her to him, Y/N collapsed onto him, her hands flat on his chest. The snow leopard nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck to smell her perfume, his large palms sliding under her sweatshirt as his tail wrapped around her ankle. "Hoon…"

"I missed you," he murmured against her skin. His voice was hoarse from not having used it for several weeks, but his touch was warm and reassuring.

"You're human."

"Mmm," he purred. "I wanted you in my arms. My human. Mine."

Hesitantly, Y/N stroked his hair, her fingers scratching behind his ears, which intensified his purring like a big cat. Sunghoon rolled to lie her beneath him on the couch, enjoying the contact of her skin against his.

"I'm yours, right?"

"You're mine," she promised, kissing the top of his head. Sunghoon smiled, his small fangs brushing her skin as he smiled against the thin skin of her neck.

Masterlist

Taglist : @sabyy @kyunlov @grandlightcandy @kristynaaah @li-know @maknaehyucks @cr4zyf4ngirl777 @blue-skyyy25 @maewybakes @lezleeferguson-120 @addictedtohobi @rawrrxan @fuckthinking @heeseunglover73 @spideysenses1u @vtyb23 @nosugrefer-021 @engenehazy @bvbblyjasmine @alondra6011 @negin7 @neodreamzenie @laikaonline @mbioooo0000 @jakeyismine @psyches-reid @foreveronez @keylawnduh @lisie-loves-u @nct-sticker-127 @wonmura @hannalovesenhypen @skyearby @missoxy @caravm @l3afsh33p @iilimaria000 @mellowcakes04 @wheezyev @ravenslocked @judy410 @seungiesdoll @blengene @hwalllllllelujah @hooneyaddicted @acute4ngel @whyiskpoptakingovermylife @weebofakind @lyrarinn @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @soulenha @prettyahreum @orimuraa @hwaluvrsblog Can be added in comment

[in-enha-world]

Sweet aphrodisiac

Pairing : emperor heeseung x concubine reader Genre : historical AU, cheating (not reader or hee), fluff, smut, unprotected sex (don't), multiple rounds Synopsis : After his wife's betrayal, Emperor Heeseung wants nothing more to do with women. But the kingdom needs an heir, and the ministers love to plays with aphrodisiacs, sending Heeseung straight into the bed of his favorite concubine, Y/N. Enhypen Historical AU : P.SH part

It was not uncommon for emperors to take several concubines in addition to their wife. Emperor Heeseung had exactly four, but he spent little time with them, too busy with kingdom affairs and his damned wife.

Because yes, for a man to take concubines was even expected, but a woman! Absolutely not! And what's more, the queen, the empress, takes a secret lover and becomes pregnant by him? The entire palace heard Heeseung scream for hours at his wife and her troop of maids for the offense committed. Everyone knew that the child would not be the emperor's, and it would be a dishonor to him and his entire family. He was furious and had banished his wife to the winter palace, where she would spend her pregnancy.

But even with this incident, it didn't mean Heeseung visited his concubines more often, on the contrary. He had distanced himself from the presence of women as if they repulsed him, and this worried the ministers who hoped for a legitimate heir to ensure the lineage.

"I doubt the emperor will share the empress's bed after this," declared the Minister of Finance. "Even if it was only affection he shared with her, everything is dead now."

"But the eyes of our enemies are upon us now, and the absence of an heir is a weakness," agreed the Minister of Agriculture. "However, the emperor does not seem willing to visit his concubines."

"Perhaps we could force his hand a little."

The gazes turned to the Prime Minister at the end of the table on the right. The man stroked his beard with an enigmatic air, a thin smile stretching his lips. "What do you mean?"

The Prime Minister reached into the pocket of his hanbok and pulled out a small vial, signaling the servant carrying the wine pitcher to approach. "This is an aphrodisiac that I procured from a trusted source." He removed the stopper and poured the mixture into the wine, which diluted.

"An aphrodisiac? Minister!"

"It's the only way to get our emperor to decide to share the bed of one of his concubines. We only have to choose the one who will be suitable to bear the heir. I believe Concubine Y/N will be perfect. She is the only one of high rank and Heeseung's childhood friend. They will be perfect together."

"I doubt the empress will agree…" remarked the Minister of War.

"She no longer has a say since she became pregnant by her lover. Guards!"

A soldier detached himself from the wall where he was posted to step forward toward the ministers, bowing respectfully. "Prime Minister?"

"Take a few soldiers and take the concubines for a stroll through the city. But do not inform Concubine Y/N, let her remain in her apartments."

"Understood, Minister."

The man turned on his heel and disappeared into the palace to give the orders. Since the queen was confined to the winter palace and all the other concubines would be gone, the emperor would have no choice but to go to Y/N. "You are diabolical, Prime Minister."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Gentlemen."

They changed the subject when Heeseung pushed the doors open to enter the council chamber. The general of his armies closed the doors behind him while the emperor went to sit at the head of the table, already looking irritated despite the early hour.

"Tell the empress to send her messengers if she wants to speak to me, because I don't want to see her!" Heeseung ordered, angrily grabbing parchments.

"Understood, Lord."

"Wine, for fuck's sake!"

The servant consulted the Prime Minister with a look, the man gave a slight nod, and the young man stepped forward to fill Heeseung's glass, which he downed in one go, then filled it again, leaving it on the table.

"Well, what are today's requests?"

"The harvests are finished, and they were abundant, Lord. We will have sufficient provisions for the winter."

"Excellent, at least one piece of good news."

During the council, Heeseung continued to sip his glass of wine, unaware of the aphrodisiac that had been poured into the pitcher. He often asked the servant to refill his glass, half-listening to his ministers' declarations, who threw him sideways glances.

Only, as time passed, Heeseung felt his body aching. A weight had settled in his stomach, and he was hot despite the room's temperature being normal. He pinched the bridge of his nose to regain his composure, breathing deeply despite his heart's rapid beating.

"Are you alright, Lord?"

He hid his trouble, though it was becoming difficult, his groin pulsed painfully under his hanbok, and excitement coursed through his body. Heeseung jumped up from his chair, unable to stay seated there doing nothing. "Lord?"

"This council is adjourned!"

He turned on his heel, leaving the council chamber with the doors slamming against the walls, the Prime Minister wore a satisfied smile. His personal guards followed his quick steps as he headed toward his apartments.

"Where are the concubines?!" he barked.

"They went into the city, Lord. Only Concubine Y/N is still at the palace."

"Summon her!" The soldier nodded and walked away, Heeseung closed the door to his apartments with a kick. He removed the first layer of his hanbok and tossed it onto the sofa, pacing in his room.

Why was he so hot? He was so excited when he had no reason to be. Perhaps because he hadn't let the accumulated pressure subside in a while? He had many worries to manage in addition to the queen's pregnancy.

A servant opened the door for Y/N to enter, quickly closing it behind her to give them privacy. The young woman saw Heeseung pacing through the room, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. "My Lord?"

He turned to her, as if relieved that she was finally there. Her navy blue hanbok fell perfectly on her body, the low neckline leaving her neck exposed, the fine, plump skin calling to be marked.

Heeseung closed the distance between them, taking her face in his large, calloused palms to take possession of her lips in a hungry kiss, all teeth and tongues. "I'm so sorry," he panted, guiding her toward the bed. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm so excited that I can't think of anything else."

He was already beginning to untie the fastenings of her robes, laying her on the bed to tower over her with his body. His shirt had disappeared, leaving his bare, muscular chest in her view, a few scars from past battles covering his skin.

"Please… Please, let me…"

Y/N nodded, sliding her hands over his bare chest and returning his kiss. Heeseung sighed against her lips, unfastening her hanbok until she was naked before him, quickly standing up to remove his pants, which joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Heeseung," she moaned as he slowly pumped his fingers into her warmth.

"Fuck, say my name again, baby."

"Heeseung!" He groaned against her throat, licking the drop of sweat that had rolled down her skin. Heeseung quickly replaced his fingers with his sex, making them moan in unison as he entered her.

"Ahh, Heeseung," she moaned, her head thrown back.

"Such a sweet girl, you feel so good."

He began slow thrusts, burying himself deep inside her with each movement, circling her clit with small motions of his thumb, which heightened her pleasure. Their warm, erratic breaths mingled until their mouths met.

Y/N came quickly, Heeseung's thrusts, combined with his playing on her clit, gave her no respite. She let out a cry of pleasure, digging her nails into his shoulders, leaving small pink crescents.

The emperor didn't stop there, he turned her over on her stomach to take her from behind, continuing his thrusts without having yet reached his peak. The aphrodisiac heightened all his senses and sensations, the multiplied pleasure made him dizzy.

Y/N gripped the sheets between her fingers, her body moving back and forth with the rhythm Heeseung imposed. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, surely leaving marks the next day. "Heeseung!" she moaned loudly, her knuckles white from gripping the sheets. "T-Too much…"

"I know you can take it, baby. You want a baby, don't you? You want to carry my heir? Fuck!" he roared, quickening his thrusts. "You'd be so beautiful carrying my baby."

"Ahh, yes, yes! I want it!"

Heeseung growled, rolling onto his back on the mattress so Y/N could ride him, allowing him to go deeper inside her as she pressed her hands flat on his chest to lift herself and sit back down on his hips.

Outside, the guards keeping watch at the king's apartments were close to dropping their spears to cover their ears, while the servant crouched on the floor waiting for orders was beet red.

The young woman's third orgasm came embarrassingly fast, her nails raking across the emperor's pectorals as he gave a few more thrusts inside her to finally reach the long-awaited climax.

Y/N collapsed on him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck as they caught their breath in the warmth of the room. She waited for her heart to return to a normal rhythm, drowsiness already overtaking her. Heeseung noticed, his fingers tracing small circles on her back as he kissed her temple. "Guards!"

The soldiers opened the doors, and the servant presented himself to them, keeping his eyes lowered so as not to see what was happening before him. "My Lord?"

"Open the windows, draw a warm bath for Y/N, and order a meal to be prepared in the kitchen. Have it brought here. And in that order."

"Yes, my Lord." The servant bowed, crossing the room to open the windows, letting in a fresh breeze, then went into the adjoining bathroom to fill the basin with water, adding flower petals and other bath salts.

He left as quickly as he had come to give the instructions to the kitchen. Y/N mumbled when Heeseung sat up, taking her with him to lift her in his arms. Still naked, he walked to the bathroom and descended the steps of the basin, from which steam rose from the water's surface.

Heeseung gently lowered Y/N into the warm water, which relaxed her muscles, a soft lavender scent rose from the bath. The emperor kept her in his arms, gently rubbing her skin to remove the sweat. "Y/N."

"Mmm?" she hummed, her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

She frowned, opening her eyes again to look at him. "Why?"

"You are a person dear to me; you are more than a concubine in my eyes, and I'm sorry for being so…"

"Hungry?" she teased. Heeseung grimaced, which made her laugh. "It didn't bother me, Heeseung. You were perfect."

"Really? Because you are the only person I tolerate in the palace, and I wouldn't want to have frightened or hurt you."

"You didn't," Y/N assured, caressing his cheek. "I know you. I trust you, Hee."

The emperor sighed, reassured, and kissed her forehead, continuing to bathe her with him. However, his anger flared when they were disturbed, the doors opened on the queen entering in a fury, her round belly following her steps.

"Heeseung!" She turned red with anger when she saw him in the bath with Y/N in his arms, both naked. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"How dare you enter my apartments without permission?!" he retorted. "You are confined to the winter palace until your childbirth!"

"I am your wife! I don't have to stay locked up there like a cow being prepared to give birth!"

Heeseung fumed, gently releasing Y/N to step out of the basin, standing before the empress without caring about the water dripping from his naked body. The woman swallowed when he brought his face close to hers, a gesture far from tender. "You lost all authority the day you let yourself be impregnated by your lover."

"That's unfair! You have the right to take concubines, but not me?!"

"I don't get them pregnant! You have conceived a bastard, you have brought shame upon my family, and you think you'll get away without consequences?! You are queen, yes, but only in title. There is no way you will be the one to bear my heirs or receive my love. Go play with your lover as much as you want, I don't care. Guards! Take the empress back to the winter palace!"

"No, Heeseung! You have no right! Think of our child!"

She was dragged out of the room by the soldiers, her screams fading down the hallway. Heeseung put on a long robe and signaled Y/N to get out of the water. He took his time drying her, running a soft towel over her skin, his hands pausing for a moment on her stomach, thinking of his heir who might already be forming inside her.

Dressed in one of his large shirts, Y/N went to sit on the sofa, where the servants had placed the meal on the table. Heeseung sat beside her, an arm on the backrest as he watched her eat. "Is it good?" She nodded with a smile, and Heeseung smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He may have been betrayed, but it would surely only make things better.

Masterlist

Taglist : @sabyy @kyunlov @grandlightcandy @kristynaaah @li-know @maknaehyucks @cr4zyf4ngirl777 @blue-skyyy25 @maewybakes @lezleeferguson-120 @addictedtohobi @rawrrxan @fuckthinking @heeseunglover73 @spideysenses1u @vtyb23 @nosugrefer-021 @engenehazy @bvbblyjasmine @alondra6011 @negin7 @neodreamzenie @laikaonline @mbioooo0000 @jakeyismine @psyches-reid @foreveronez @keylawnduh @lisie-loves-u @nct-sticker-127 @wonmura @hannalovesenhypen @skyearby @missoxy @caravm @l3afsh33p @iilimaria000 @mellowcakes04 @wheezyev @ravenslocked @judy410 @seungiesdoll @blengene @hwalllllllelujah @hooneyaddicted @acute4ngel @whyiskpoptakingovermylife @weebofakind @lyrarinn @1-itsneverthatserious-1 Can be added in comment

[sacrificemura]

say cheese (and try not to moan) ۶ৎ | 니키

pairings: boyfriend!ni-ki x fem reader (high school au)

warnings: smut MINORS DNI, explicit content, fingering in semi-public photobooth, risk of getting caught, possessiveness, dirty talk, praise kink, ni-ki acting nonchalant while ruining you, reader trying (and failing) to stay composed for the camera

wc: 1.15k

the photobooth at the back of the arcade was small and cramped, the dirty curtain barely offering any real privacy. a group of friends waited just a few meters away, laughing and checking their phones while the timer counted down for your turn. you and ni-ki squeezed inside together, his tall frame taking up most of the space as he pulled you onto his lap on the tiny stool.

“ready, baby?” he asked softly, lips brushing your temple. his voice was sweet, the lovey-dovey tone he always used when it was just the two of you.

you nodded, smiling as you leaned into his chest. the first flash went off. you both made cute hearts with your hands, cheeks pressed together, grinning like normal high school sweethearts.

the second pose was even softer, ni-ki turned your face gently and kissed your cheek while you giggled. another flash. everything felt warm and perfect.

then the third flash came, and his hand slipped under your pleated skirt.

your breath hitched. “riki—”

“shh,” he whispered calmly, eyes fixed on the camera like nothing was happening. his long fingers traced the inside of your thigh before pushing your panties aside. “just smile for the pictures, yeah?”

you tried.

the fourth flash captured your attempt at a peace sign while two of his fingers slid inside you without warning.

you were already wet, you always got like this when he teased you in risky places. he curled them slowly, perfectly, pressing against that spot that made your thighs tremble.

outside, someone knocked lightly on the booth. “hurry up, lovebirds! we’ve been waiting forever!”

ni-ki smirked at the camera, doing a cool rockstar hand gesture with his free hand while his fingers pumped deeper inside you. “just a few more,” he called out casually, voice completely steady.

you scrunched your face as pleasure shot through you, mouth falling open in a silent gasp right as the next flash went off.

the photo would show you looking wrecked—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, cheeks flushed—while ni-ki looked effortlessly handsome, like always, smirking with that signature little head tilt and peace sign.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmured right against your ear, barely audible. his fingers moved faster, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. “look at the camera, baby. be good for me.”

another flash.

you tried to pose, forcing a weak smile, but your body betrayed you. your walls clenched around his fingers as he curled them again, hitting that perfect rhythm.

a tiny whimper escaped your throat. you bit your lip hard to stay quiet.

ni-ki stayed completely nonchalant. he tilted his head for another cute couple pose, one arm around your waist like a loving boyfriend while the other worked you open under your skirt.

his expression in the photos would be perfect. cool, slightly cocky, that little smirk that drove everyone crazy. meanwhile you looked like you were seconds away from moaning his name.

“riki… please,” you breathed, barely a whisper. your hips rocked subtly against his hand, chasing the pleasure even as fear of getting caught made your heart race. the people outside were chatting loudly now, growing impatient.

“one more set,” he said calmly, like he was just suggesting another round of photos. he added a third finger, stretching you fuller.

the wet sounds were faint but obvious to you in the tiny booth. “you’re doing so well, baby. staying quiet for me even though you’re dripping all over my fingers.”

the next flashes came in quick succession.

you scrunched your face again, mouth open in a desperate silent moan as he rubbed your clit faster. tears pricked your eyes from the effort of holding back. ni-ki leaned in for a fake cute kiss on your cheek, really using the moment to whisper filth.

“imagine if they knew my fingers are buried inside you right now. my sweet girlfriend getting fingered in a photobooth while everyone waits outside.” his voice was low, possessive. “you’re mine. only i get to make you look like this.”

you came hard on his fingers during the final set of photos. your whole body tensed, mouth falling open in a broken expression as waves of pleasure crashed through you. the camera caught every second, your wrecked face contrasting sharply with ni-ki’s calm, handsome smirk and rockstar pose.

he kept his fingers inside you through the orgasm, slowly pumping to draw it out while gently kissing your temple like the perfect boyfriend.

when the session finally ended, he pulled his hand out smoothly, licked his fingers clean and fixed your skirt. you were still trembling as he helped you stand.

ni-ki casually wiped his fingers on his sleeve before pulling the curtain open, smiling brightly at the waiting group. “sorry, we took a bit long. all yours.”

you walked out on shaky legs, face burning. he wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting you while looking completely innocent.

once you were a few steps away from the booth, he leaned down and whispered, “check the photos later. i want to see how pretty you looked falling apart for me.”

you buried your face in his chest, equal parts embarrassed and turned on. ni-ki chuckled softly and kissed the top of your head, back to his sweet, lovey self.

“let’s go get strawberry ice cream, baby. then maybe we can do another round somewhere even riskier.”

@sacrificemura please do not copy, steal, repost, translate, or claim my work as your own.

all stories and edits belong to me — ᨳଓ .

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

•°. *࿐ PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader •°. *࿐ SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. •°. *࿐ GENRE ― one-shot, ????-to-lovers, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au •°. *࿐ WORD COUNT ― 22k •°. *࿐ CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(one fight) and threats of it, lots of tension, mc is a horndog what's new, i meant to make this slow like the first part but im a weak woman, weed, mc is her own worst enemy, mc is stupid before she is smart <3, attempted unwanted touching, riki is the jealous type but in a green flag way, don’t ask where the teachers are, riki has bigger hands than mc, kissing(many a time), once i got the angst out of the way it turned into crack js •°. *࿐ EXTRA NOTES ― thank you all for being so kind and giving me such helpful feedback and love! shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for once again holding my hand and basically beta reading this for me, you're the best queen. •°. *࿐ SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, don’t smile by sabrina carpenter, big girls don’t cry by fergie, better than me by doja cat, diet pepsi by addison rae, what a girl wants by christina aguilera, positions by ariana grande, he could be the one by hannah montana, bmf by sza

part one.

AT THE BEGINNING OF FEBRUARY you realized how easy it was to get over Eunseok at the same moment that it sinks in that you can’t get over Riki.

Maybe it's the fact that he’s still friendly despite the ‘breakup’, or that he still makes sweet comments that feel too genuine to be taken as flirting anymore. He hasn’t changed much of his behavior at all since the end of January, actually.

The news of the short-lived relationship spread around school. Though it was clear that you both were still friends, most of the rumors were dispelled. However, some were still infuriatingly present.

Now, you’re not the type of person who gives a shit about what other people think of you—especially not a bunch of pubescent teenagers with so little going on in their own lives that they find entertainment in yours. But your patience is wearing thin. If you hear another freshman whisper about you not being over your cheating ex, you are going to go insane. (Despite your reputation, you are above throwing hands with 14 year-olds.)

“So you want something like this, right?” Julie taps on her phone screen from across from you, showing the nail inspiration photo you had sent her just last week. When you only nod, she tilts her head with a curious raise of her brows, “We can do something different, hon’.”

Quickly, you shake your head and straighten your posture in the chair across from her, “No, sorry. I just—I’m just thinking about shit. I still want a set like that.” You force a soft laugh, and she nods with a soft ‘okay’.

“So? Anything new?” She asks with a pretty smile as she plugs in her nail drill and turns on the dust collector.

You lay your hands onto the rest between the two of you, humming and then sighing, “I’m still single.”

Julie begins working at removing her work from three weeks ago with the drill, though the pink mask keeping her from inhaling the dust doesn’t hide her face of baffled confusion, “I thought you were dating that lacrosse guy, though.”

The sound of the drill and fan are like white noise to the both of you as you sigh and drop your head forward, “Didn’t work out.”

Julie gasps softly, clearly upset for you, “What’d he do?”

While you love that her first instinct was to ask what he did and not what you did, the latter is more fitting for the situation. “He was too perfect and I got scared?” You admit softly with a guilty shrug.

Julie pauses in her work and deadpans at you, “Ho.”

“I know!” You whine softly as she resumes, using your free hand to grab the chilled can of Dr Pepper she’d grabbed for you before your appointment started, sipping from the pink straw before you continue to whine, “I fucked up.”

“I never got to see a photo last time, either.” Julie recalls as she progresses to removing the hard-gel off your other hand, “You hadn’t picked anyone for your little plan, yet.”

Julie knowing about your genius plan to ruin Eunseok and Nayeon’s day, everyday, with your tall, hot, and sweet ‘boyfriend’ was inevitable. She had dropped the traitorous bitch as a client the moment you and Belle told her about it, equally as disgusted by Nayeon as the both of you. Not to mention, Belle always yapped her pretty head off during her appointments, so as previously stated, it was inevitable.

“You’re gonna hate me,” You say, grabbing your phone with your now dusty and bare fingers to quickly tap to a photo of Riki that Jake had sent you. He’s got his helmet tucked under his arm and seemed to be captured in a heated argument with another boy on the team. The first thing you noticed was his hands, though.

When she pauses to look at your screen, she looks at you again and sighs like a disappointed mother, shaking her head and turning the drill back on. You whine, “Don’t sigh at me, I’m in mourning.”

“I thought you said you weren’t worried about catching feelings.” She reminds you, and you roll your eyes.

“Bitch, look at him.” You sass, picking up your phone to show the still-lit screen before placing it facedown in your lap again, “and he was just so—sweet. And he liked when I was mean to him.”

“As he should.”

“—and his smile made me want to stick my head in an oven Sylvia Plath style.” You say with a soft pout on your lips, “It was so much so suddenly, and I freaked out.”

Julie turns off the drill and grabs the brush to clean off the dust from your hands as she nods slightly to what you’re saying, “And Eunseok was so recent.”

“—And Eunseok was so recent!” You repeat in vehement agreement, groaning up at the ceiling as you slump slightly, “Why do boys ruin everything?”

You spend the next few hours of your nail appointment ranting about everything. Riki, your ex, your ex best friend, your dad (who had texted you a long message after you left him that you promptly responded to with a ‘that doesn’t look like an apology so im not reading that’).

mommy dearest 🩷: can you pick up some groceries for me? just a few things

The text from your mom as you swipe your card on Julie’s reader is paired with a chime you recognize as your bank app. Your new nails tap on your screen as you open the notification, grinning at the sight of a hefty transfer of funds into your account. 

The small list your mother sends doesn’t come close to costing the amount she sent you to pay for it, so you decide to stop at Sephora while you’re out too.

You choose the highest percentage to tip and sign her phone screen with your knuckle before bidding her a happy farewell and exiting the salon. The drive to the strip center is barely ten minutes long, your BMW filled with Christina Aguilera and the trip slightly delayed by your admiration of your new nails at every red light. 

When you get into the Sephora, which you decided to visit first since your mom’s list included produce, you b-line to the skincare section. 

You’re debating between oil cleansers when you’re tapped on the shoulder. 

The woman before you looks around your mother’s age, a bit shorter than you but with a beautiful smile on her face. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but are you Y/n?”

You blink, caught off guard, but nod.

Her grin widens. “I’m Riki’s mom!”

Your stomach drops. Every instinct screams at you to panic, but instead, you paint a pretty smile on your face, the kind your mother taught you to perfect at charity galas. “Oh my god, hi!”

Before you can react, she pulls you into a hug, warm and tight, smelling faintly of lavender and vanilla. You reciprocate, though your arms are stiff and hesitant.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she gushes, pulling back to hold you at arm’s length. Her eyes, as sharp and bright as Riki’s, scan you with something between approval and curiosity. “You’re just as lovely as he said.”

“Thank you,” you manage, your voice light despite the whirlwind in your chest at the sudden and  information that Riki talks about you at home. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“I can’t believe I ran into you like this!” she says, her excitement bubbling over. “You’re like a doll, honey. The photos he’s shown me don’t do you justice.”

Your brain short-circuits at the word photos. Plural.

“Oh?” you manage, keeping your smile intact even as your heart feels like it’s trying to escape the confines of your chest.

“Of course! He’s always talking about you,” she continues, as if she didn’t just drop a bomb on you in the middle of Sephora. “He showed me the cutest one of you two at the bowling alley—said it was his favorite night in a long time.”

Your breath catches, but you quickly cover it with a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s so sweet of him.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She beams like she’s talking about a national treasure instead of her son. “He’s always been so shy when it comes to girls, but with you, it’s different. I can tell you mean a lot to him.”

The words land like a stone in your chest, heavy and impossible to ignore. You can’t tell if she’s trying to hint at something or if she’s just being a proud mom, but either way, you suddenly feel very out of your depth.

“That’s nice to hear,” you say lightly, though your throat feels tight. “He’s a great guy.”

She places a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but firm. “You’re good for him, you know. He’s happier these days, more confident.”

Your mind flashes to Riki’s easy smiles, the way he leans into you during conversations, the soft look in his eyes when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You swallow hard.

“Thank you, Mrs. Nishimura,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel . “That really means a lot.”

Her smile softens, and she gives your arm a little squeeze. “Oh, call me Rin, honey. And if you ever want to come over for dinner, just let me know. I’d love to have you.”

“Dinner sounds lovely,” you say with a polite smile, already running on autopilot. “I’ll have to check with Riki, but I’m sure he’d love that too.”

“Oh, good! I’ll talk to him about it tonight,” Rin says brightly, her excitement only adding to the internal chaos brewing in your chest. “You two are so sweet together—I can’t believe he didn’t tell me you were this gorgeous in person.”

You blink, momentarily stunned, and force out a soft laugh. “That’s really kind of you to say.”

“I mean it.” She gives you an approving once-over before leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, he’s usually so tight-lipped about his personal life. I had to drag it out of him that you two were dating in the first place.”

The air leaves your lungs like you’ve been punched. He hadn’t told her.

“He—uh—didn’t mention that we’re…” you start, the words catching in your throat.

“Together?” she finishes for you with a knowing smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t embarrass him too much about it. I just want him to be happy, and it’s so obvious you make him happy.”

You feel your face flush, your carefully constructed composure threatening to crack. But instead of correcting her, you nod, your smile tighter now. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”

She reaches out and pats your arm warmly. “It was so nice meeting you, sweetheart. I’ll let you get back to your shopping. Tell Riki I said hi, okay?”

“I will,” you promise, your voice light despite the storm in your head.

As soon as she disappears down another aisle, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching for the oil cleansers again, you try to steady yourself, replaying her words over and over.

He didn’t tell her.

A part of you is…warm with the information. The other part wants to puke your guts out. 

You stare blankly at the oil cleansers in front of you, your grip tightening around the bottle in your hand. The woman’s words replay in your mind like a broken record, each one sharper than the last.

“He’s happier these days, more confident.”

“It’s so obvious you make him happy.”

“He didn’t tell me you were this gorgeous in person.”

Your chest tightens, a mix of guilt and something softer—but no less overwhelming—clawing its way up your throat. The whole point of fake dating was to not make things messy. Yet here you are, feeling like a lead character in a rom-com whose life is falling apart. Right now would be an amazing time for Matthew McConaughey to come out and sweep you off your feet. 

(You realize with borderline humiliating speed that you would much prefer if Riki swept you off your feet. Seriously, there must be something wrong with you.)

The bottle trembles slightly in your hand, and you force yourself to set it back on the shelf with a shaky exhale. You’re not the kind of girl who lets this sort of thing get to her. You’re confident, decisive, in control. Except when it comes to him.

The thought makes you pause, your fingers brushing absently over your nails as the memory of his smile creeps in—the one he reserved just for you, warm and easy and dangerous.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, grabbing the Sulwhasoo cleanser you were debating spending so much on and beginning to mindlessly fill the black Sephora tote as you walk through the aisles. Real therapy has nothing on retail therapy considering you know what your problems are and how to fix them. Paying someone to tell you those things seems counterproductive when you can make yourself feel better by treating yourself.

By all accounts, it’s been a good day for you. Getting out of the school parking lot was exceptionally easy despite the traffic you encounter more often than not. You got your nails done and love how they turned out. You’re currently splurging at Sephora. And now you have reason to believe Riki doesn’t secretly hate you for breaking his heart.

riki 🙈: just got out of practice

riki 🙈: are you coming to the game tomorrow?

You look at your phone as you tap your card on the reader and accept the large black and white striped bag from the girl at the counter.  Thanking her with a smile before beginning to make your way out to your car again. When you settle into the driver’s seat, the heat turns on as you place the bag into the passenger seat.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, nails tapping against your case as your phone automatically hooks up to the bluetooth, ‘After Hours’ by The Weeknd beginning to play. “Oh, shut up.” You sigh as you pause the music and finally muster up the right response.

pretty girl 🪩: depends on how nice you are to me tomorrow

riki 🙈: i’ll bring you a gift rn

pretty girl 🪩: im not home

As soon as the text is marked as Read, your screen is replaced by his caller ID, a photo of him at age ten in a Michael Jackson costume lighting up your screen. You can’t help but chuckle before pressing the green button, reaching to turn the volume up as you ask with a playfully suspicious tone, “Can I help you?”

“Mhm, where are you?” His deep voice and hum makes you bite your fist.

You begin pulling out of the parking lot to make it across the street to the grocery store, “Getting groceries, why?”

“I wanna see you.” 

Lord have mercy—

“You sure you don’t just miss Gus?“ You hesitate to mention the revelations made by his very kind mother in Sephora, but decide to hold off.

“Oh, I do miss Gus, but I miss his mom more.”

Oh, you hate the soft laughter that leaves your mouth the moment you hear it, “I won’t be long at the store, it’s just a few things.”

There’s a shuffle on the other side, then he says, “What store?”

“Riki, it’s literally like four things.” You laugh at his shameless eagerness, “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

He chuckles softly before humming again, “Okay, bye pretty.”

“Bye.” A beat passes and ‘What a Girl Wants’ by Christina Aguilera blares through the speakers so loud you jump, “Jesus Christ.”

By the time you pull into the grocery store parking lot, you’ve replayed his voice in your head at least five times. I wanna see you. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it—soft, easy, like he wasn’t asking for anything out of the ordinary. Like it was natural for him to want to be around you, and for you to want the same. You’re...friends. 

You curse the thought away as you grab your keys and step into the cold evening air, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. You don’t need to be thinking about Riki Nishimura and his stupid, perfect face and voice the whole time.

The grocery run is quick—milk, eggs, a few vegetables, and a bag of Gus’s favorite treats because you can’t resist—and you’re back in your car in record time. You text Riki that you're on the way home and find yourself smiling when he loves the message. It drops a second later when you realize what you’re doing and curse again, tossing your phone into the cup holder like it’s on fire and covering your face to self-reflect.

When you pull into the driveway of your home, it isn’t hard to spot Riki’s black Jeep parked at the curb. What is hard is hiding the grin that forms on your lips as you park your car and get out to grab the groceries in your trunk. The lacrosse player is already exiting his own vehicle and jogging over to help you.

“You didn’t have to come,” you say as he reaches for the bag of vegetables in your hands, but there’s no bite to your words.

“You said you’d text me when you were home,” he replies, his voice light and teasing as he takes the other bags with ease. “I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

You shake your head, grabbing your Sephora bag and locking your car. “So damn impatient.”

“Only when it comes to you.” His response is so casual, so effortless, it knocks the air from your lungs. You glance at him, but he’s already halfway up the path, waiting for you at the door like he hadn’t just said something that made your knees weak.

When you catch up, you unlock the door with the code and nudge it open with your foot, paising once you’re inside to shut it behind him. You kick off your shoes and pass Riki to get to the kitchen, placing your Sephora bag on one of the island’s chairs and watching him place the few grocery bags on the counter. 

“Gus~” You call out as you begin to unpack the paper bags, and there’s a soft warbled meow in response in the direction of your room. The plump tuxedo cat appears around the corner, rubbing his body against the wall with another soft cry for attention that has Riki cooing and lowering himself to the ground to oblige him.

Once you’ve got groceries put away, you watch the 6’ something lacrosse player pet your cat with gentle scratches under his chin that he leans into with slow blinks, “Are you happy?”

Your softly giggled question has Riki smiling up at you, “So happy.”

With a soft huff of amusement, you grab your Sephora bag and walk in the direction of your room, choosing not to glance behind you to see if he’s following. Just act natural, bitch.

You leave your door open as you enter your room, thanking the lord that the cleaning lady had visited while you were out and your room isn’t as dirty as you left it this morning. Walking into your bathroom to start putting away your new skincare, you ignore the sound of him entering your room. 

“You have a lot of perfume.” You hear him comment, glancing over your shoulder to see him admiring the organized collection on your open vanity.

“Yeah, I...have a problem” You say with a soft laugh of slight embarrassment at your habit of buying yourself anything pretty or relatively cutesy. “I have more in my closet.”

Riki whistles lowly, seemingly a bit impressed, “Which one’s your favorite?”

With a hum of thought, you step out of your bathroom to walk to your closet. You don’t mind the open door as you enter, reaching the island in the center working double as storage and where you keep your perfumes. Riki follows just to the doorway, leaning against it as his eyes move from you to the expanse of your walk-in closet. The floor-to-ceiling shelves in the back displaying heels and boots of different luxury brands, the pretty runner rug beneath your feet, it all screams you.

You’re plucking your favorite bottle from the display when his eyes land on the corner of something flat and white hidden behind a woven hamper. The easy smile on your face drops the moment you see him pull it out from its hiding spot, a boyish grin on his face. “You sneaky fuck.” 

He laughs at your immediate cursing, holding the white board out of your reach as you hasten towards him to take it from him, “Pros and Cons?”

“Oh my god.” You give up on taking it from him, hands moving to try and cover his eyes, “Riki!”

“It’s about me, pretty girl.” he argues playfully, still laughing while trying to dodge your hands, “C’mon, just a peek!”

“Boys aren’t allowed to peek—Riki!” You fight laughter as his arm hooks around your head, his hand covering your face as he begins to read out the words you wish you had erased when you had the chance.

“‘Nickname kinda dumb’, you think my nicknames dumb?” He asks in an offended tone, laughter seeping into his words.

“That wasn’t me, that was Jongseob—“

“Cut his hair—Why is cutting my hair a con?” He asks incredulously, finally letting you push his hand away from your face to look down at you. Your back is still half-pressed to his chest, and the moment you can look up at him your heart skips like it’s playing hopscotch in your chest.

You catch the glance his eyes take down below your nose and find yourself pulling away quickly, grabbing the whiteboard from him to haphazardly use your sleeve to wipe the marker off, ignoring his laughed ‘hey!’ and sighing in relief when you erase enough for the rest of its contents to look like random pink lines across its surface.

When you spin around with a playfully pointed finger to curse him out, your words catch in your throat at the look in his eyes. 

How a look could be both heavy and so soft, you do not know, but it's the best way you can describe Riki’s gaze.

“Wh—“ You stammer with hesitation, face heating up as his soft smile turns into a smirk of amusement, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?” He questions in a light tone, almost soft. If you didn’t know better you’d think him genuine in his innocence, but the slight twitch of the corner of his lips and the way his eyes flit to yours gives it away.

“Riki.”

His name leaving your lips draws his gaze away from them, and his smirk turns into one more wry. “I left your gift in my car.” 

Your chest clenches painfully as he turns to exit your closet, your lips parting yet no words leaving them as he walks out. You follow after him, abandoning your perfume on the closest surface, “Riki, wait—“

“It’s okay—” he starts, turning just in time to stop you from crashing into him. His hands find your forearms instinctively, steadying you, but the sudden proximity freezes you both in place.

You blink up at him, startled, your breath hitching at the closeness. His fingers are warm through the fabric of your sweater, his touch gentle, like he’s afraid to hold on too tight.

“I—” You start to say something, anything, but your voice falters when you meet his gaze. There’s something there, something unspoken and unbearably soft that makes your chest ache. 

Your words catch in your throat when he gently steps back, his hands slipping away as though he’s suddenly aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you. “It’s fine,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His voice is soft, but there’s a distance in it that wasn’t there before, and it only makes the knot in your chest tighten. “I’ll go grab it.” 

You take a step forward before you can stop yourself, “Riki, I didn’t mean—”

“Really, don’t worry about it.” His voice is light, too light, as he cuts you off with a small wave of his hand. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You hesitate, watching as he turns toward the hallway, his movements just a little too deliberate. His usual ease is gone, replaced by something quieter, more careful.

Your heart sinks. Is he upset with you? He doesn’t seem angry, but there’s a tension in the way he carries himself that wasn’t there before.

“I wasn’t trying to make things weird,” you blurt out, desperate to bridge the gap forming between you.

He pauses mid-step, his back still to you. For a moment, it seems like he might say something, but instead, he exhales quietly and turns just enough to glance over his shoulder.

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone softer now, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—regret? Frustration? “It’s not you. I just… I need a second. That’s all.”

His mother’s words ring in your head again, “It’s so obvious you make him happy.”

Yet, you feel like the opposite is all you can see. You ask him to be your fake boyfriend to make your ex mad, not even considering his feelings. You tell him you can’t date him despite him treating you with more respect and care than Eunseok ever did. You let him kiss you. You kissed back.

Clearly, you have royally fucked up a few times now.

Confronting him about not telling his mother felt like it would only make things worse between the two of you. Maybe, it’d be better for him to hear it from his mother instead of you.

Your stomach twists, guilt gnawing at you even though his words tell you otherwise. You nod, unsure what else to say, and he offers a faint, almost apologetic smile before disappearing down the hall.

“And then what?” Belle questions with a vehemence that startles you slightly. Eunchae, Hiyyih, and Jongseob are all listening intently from their normal spots in your room, your oldest friend of the four standing with her hands on her hips.

When you had informed the group chat you were staying home the next day, you definitely did not expect the four to show up to your house after piling into an Uber. One look at your tear-streaked face was enough for them to ask the questions that brought you to now.

You stammer slightly, “He—He came back with the gift and made up an excuse to leave.”

“You let him leave?” Belle asks incredulously, and you shrink under her gaze, “Bitch.”

“I don’t know, okay!” You say with your face in your hands, frustrated tears burning your eyes again as you groan, “It’s all so complicated.”

Jongseob raises his hand, waiting for Belle to motion for him to speak before he asks, “Do you like him? Also, is this a bad time to say I have a joint in my bag?”

Eunchae punches his arm, and your hands slide off your face, mind too preoccupied by your current dilemma to even insult the only boy in the friend group for his lack of ability to read the room as usual. Hiyyih leans forward to let the youngest reach over her to get to him, “That was a good question until you ruined it.” 

”Do you like him, though?” Eunchae asks once Jongseob’s arm is surely to bruise and his hands are up in surrender.

You look up from your hands, “I don’t know—“

“You’re pissing me off.” Belle sighs, palm moving to her forehead, and while you know she means well. “You like him.”

“I can’t.” You argue, voice shaking as you fight tears. Eunchae moves from her bean bag to sit next to you. “All that shit with Eunseok was barely a month ago—“

“Who gives a shit about Eunseok anymore?” Belle snaps, throwing her hands up in frustration, “Just because you dated that asshole for two years doesn’t mean it’ll take that long for you to move on.”

“It still feels like I’m using him.” You finally let the tears fall, and her frustration seems to dissipate. She sighs softly, kneeling in front of your sitting form at the edge of your bed.

Her hands move to cover yours, “Do you still have feelings for Eunseok?” The face you make answers her question and she adds, “Do you still think of Riki as a way to get back at him?”

“Of course not.“

“Then you aren’t using him.” She finishes. “He went into this knowing your plan, and you said he even told you it wasn’t you that was the problem.”

You shake your head, tears falling as you blink them away, “He looked upset—“

“Then that’s his problem.” She argues again, “It’s his job to communicate how he feels if he likes you.”

“He does communicate. I’m the issue!” You cry pitifully, “I don’t want him to think I’m not over Eunseok because—I’m still so angry.”

“He cheated on you with your best friend, you don’t have to forgive him to be able to move on to a healthy relationship.” She states.

“But it feels—“ You can’t find words for why it feels wrong to want to date Riki, because the thought of it makes your heart race, “I don’t know! I’ve known him for barely a month and I just—“

“You like him and feel like it’s not real because it happened too fast?” She reads you like a damn book, but you’re almost thankful for it.

“Yes!” You cry, “And he deserves better than that.”

“So, you like Riki?” She repeats her question, her tone matching yours.

You find yourself answering before you can even think, “Yes!”

Your stomach drops as Belle stands like her work here is done. 

It isn’t you realizing you like Riki that has your stomach filling with dread and guilt, it's the fact that you like him more than you have ever liked anyone. 

You liked Eunseok, even told him you loved him, but that seed hadn’t grown in your chest no matter how many times it left your mouth in the form of ‘I love you.’

Yet, you imagine yourself with Riki—loving him—and it all sounds so…easy. The mundanity you dreaded having to live with Eunseok sounded like a dream with Riki. Falling in love with him sounded like something you wouldn’t mind experiencing. 

Which, all things considered, is fucking terrifying to you.

Hiyyih, who had been silently watching the interaction, pats the shoulder of the boy beside her, “I think she’s gonna need that joint now, Seob.”

The shaggy-haired producer straightens up, nodding and quickly reaching for his bag to pull the baggy from the front pocket.

Belle moves toward your closet, “Manchae, Hiyyih, help her wipe her face while I find her an outfit for the game tonight.”

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head in a panicked way that makes Belle grab your face in her hands, uncaring of the fact she’s squishing your cheeks, “Do you want Riki to be your boyfriend, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are going to this game, and you are going to look hot.” She walks you through it like she’s talking to a child, “And when he scores the winning home run, you’re going to run onto that field and jump him, got it?”

Jongseob raises his hand again, though doesn't wait to be called on as he interjects, “Home runs are baseball—“

“That isn't the point, dipshit.” Eunchae sasses before turning her attention back to you, “Can I ask what the gift he got you was?”

You nod as Belle releases your face, sniffling softly as you hold up your hand to showcase the charm bracelet on your wrist. Two charms hang from it, your birthstone and a tiny lacrosse stick. “He said he got it before…everything happened.”

“He bought you a charm bracelet after a week of knowing you?” Jongseob asks in a suspicious tone, and when the three girls besides you shoot him a dirty look, he holds his hands up in surrender, “Sorry—it’s just I think I’ve…connected some dots.”

“You haven’t connected shit.” Eunchae says, before promptly adding, “I just wanted to say that, you can continue.”

Jongseob shoots her an annoyed look, before looking at you and beginning, “Well, I was talking to Soul the other day—y’know the one that goes to music club with me— and he said he and Riki were friends in Freshman year.”

His hesitant pause has you looking at him and saying, “What does that mean to me?”

He continues, “He mentioned him having a huge crush on a girl then—“

“Why would I want to know this, Seob?” You question with exasperation.

“Let me finish!” He insists, and you sigh, motioning for him to land the damn plane, “I did some digging—aka asking his teammates about it—and while most of them didn’t know or wouldn’t tell me, Jake kind of insinuated it was you.”

You blink, “How did he insinuate it was me?”

“Well, I asked him what he thought about your breakup and he got all weepy about it. Said he was rooting for you guys to be endgame.” Typical Jake. “Then, I mentioned you guys not knowing each other for long and it sounded like he almost said that Riki’s been into you for years.”

The four of you blink at the boy’s retelling of events, and Belle is the first to snap out of her surprise, “And why didn’t you tell us this when you found out?”

“You guys never let me talk. Plus, that seemed like the last thing she wanted to hear.” He argues, then motions to you, and none of the girls in the room can really argue back. He doesn’t seem all that bothered about the truth of his own statement, though, as he holds up the bagged joint once more. “Now, are we smoking this or not?”

Parking your car has never left you with such a dreadful feeling in your gut, which Jongseob swore a hit of his shitty joint would ease, yet all it did was jumble your thoughts more. 

The temperature sensor reads a biting 30°F, and as you zip up the thick teddy puffer jacket you shiver with pure nerves. “Fuck.” 

Flipping down the sun visor, you check your reflection in its mirror. The warm light reflects off the gloss on your lips, which you fuss over with the pad of your finger even though it’s as perfect as it was when you applied it. 

Stalling. You’re stalling.

With a deep breath, you snap the visor shut and cut the engine, grabbing your purse and phone before stepping into the biting cold. The frigid air slashes through the layers of your outfit, your jacket doing little to stop the chill. You already regret picking the cuter option over something more practical, but you’d made your bed. Now you had to lie in it.

Ain't that the truth.

The field is already alive with movement and muted chatter. Teams are warming up, their voices cutting through the chilly air as balls thud against lacrosse sticks and cleats crunch on frosted grass. You can’t see Riki yet, but the sight of the players in their jerseys stirs the knot in your chest.

Decelis Demons v. YG Pirates

As you near the bleachers, a familiar voice calling your name stops you in your tracks. 

“Over here!” 

You turn, spotting Riki’s mom waving at you with a warm smile, flanked by two young girls bundled in matching puffer jackets. His sisters. The younger one is tugging impatiently at her scarf, while the older stands with her arms crossed, looking vaguely unimpressed by the entire ordeal.

“Mrs. Nishimura, hi!” you manage once you’ve climbed the bleachers to join her side, hoping your smile doesn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice as kind as you remember. “Riki didn’t mention anything, but I figured you’d be here for him.”

Your face heats at her words, but you force a nod, gripping the strap of your purse tighter and attempting to ignore the cold nipping at your fingers. “Of course, even if it's colder than a Yeti’s ass out here.” 

You almost regret your colorful language before the older girl snorts softly, “Preach.” 

Mrs. Nishimura chuckles, “It is freezing,” she agrees. “I told Riki he should’ve picked an indoor sport, but you know how stubborn he is.” She jests, and then proceeds to add, “Oh, and these are my daughters, Maki and Runa

You smile at the two of them, Maki’s a bit more subdued but Runa’s bright as she waves. At the mention of Riki, your eyes scan the field for a glimpse of his number. The players are still warming up, running drills and shouting plays back and forth.

And then you see him.

Riki stands near the goalpost, casually balancing his stick across his shoulders as he chats with a teammate. Even in the midst of the pregame chaos, he moves with the same effortless confidence that always draws attention, his tall frame impossible to miss.

The sight of him stirs something unfamiliar and electric in your chest. It’s not the usual comfort you’ve come to associate with him—it’s sharper, more restless, like an itch you can’t quite get to.

You tear your gaze away from him when you hear your name called once again, finding Gaeul quickly climbing the steps of the bleachers to get to you, her free gloved hand catching your arm happily, “I was hoping you’d be here!”

You smile, part of you relieved that she isn’t acting differently despite everything, and your eyes fall on the poster board in her other hand, “Is that for Jay?”

She follows your gaze and nods, unrolling it to reveal ‘Go Jay!’ with a big 19 under it, which you assume is his jersey number. The dark red sweatshirt under her puffer reads the same number as well. “Cute, right?”

“Very cute.” You reply with a soft laugh, smoothing a crease from the corner of the poster board as you add, “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“He better,” Gaeul huffs in a mock seriousness, “M’freezing my ass off for him.”

Mrs. Nishimura, who seems to have been listening in from her spot beside you, chimes in with a knowing smile, “He still insists you come to every game?”

You momentary confusion is quickly shaken off as you remind yourself that Gaeul and Jay have been dating since sophomore year, of course Riki’s mom knows her, and the girl in question nods fondly, “He says I’m his good luck charm—“ She gasps, and you blink, “—I forgot to kiss him before I left earlier!”

Your brief panic induced by her gasp subsides as you giggle softly, “Oh, no!”

She playfully smacks your arm and grabs it, “You’re coming with me for that.”

Your laughter doesn’t subside, only grows, as she motions to the Nishimura’s that you’ll ‘be right back’ and begins tugging you along down the bleachers, “Where are we going?”

“To kiss my man.” She answers, but pauses in her step to look at you and clarify, “I’m kissing him, you…can kiss Riki.”

“I will not be doing that, but I respect the effort.”

She groans melodramatically as the both of you continue walking down the bleachers, “Aww, c’mon, you guys were so cute together!”

You thank the lord that it’s too loud for Rin and her daughters to hear the girl from this distance, both for your sake and Riki’s, but laugh softly, “I don’t think kissing him a week after breaking his heart is the right move to get him back.”

Gaeul pauses on the last step to look at you with an unhinged jaw as soon as you realize your mistake, opening your mouth to deny before the accusations leave her pink lips, “You want him back?” 

Her words are shrill with excitement and you have the sudden urge to shrink into nothingness as you hover a cold shivering hand over her mouth and avoid the gazes of those around you both, “Bitch, shut up!”

She flattens her lips in an attempt to compose herself but fails to muffle the excited squeal and bounce of her gait as she tugs you down the side steps of the bleachers to get to the field.

The lacrosse field feels bigger up close, the expanse of frosted grass sprawling out under the big lights on either side of it. Gaeul marches ahead with purpose, her poster now tucked under her arm as she scans for Jay. You lag behind slightly, your thoughts still buzzing from the last few minutes.

“Gaeul, slow down,” you mutter, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as the cold nips at your ears.

She ignores you, her focus locked on a cluster of players by the bench. You spot Jay among them, laughing at something one of his teammates says. Gaeul picks up her pace, her excitement palpable, leaving you to follow at a more hesitant shuffle.

You scan the group of players, not recognizing any of them as Riki. When you do find him, you exhale heavily at the sight of him deep in conversation with Jungkook, the coach clearly getting on his ass for something.

“Hey there,” a voice calls out, smooth and laced with a confidence that plants a murky feeling in your gut. You glance up to see a guy in a YG Pirates jersey standing in front of you, his helmet tucked under his arm and a cocky grin on his face. 32 is bold and dark green on his chest.

“Lost, sweetheart?” he asks, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You take a step back instinctively, your eyes narrowing. “Do I know you?”

He raises a brow, his grin widening as if you’ve said something amusing. “Feisty, huh? Just my type.”

Your stomach twists at his boldness, irritation bubbling under your skin. You glance over his shoulder, hoping to spot Gaeul, but she’s already halfway to Jay, oblivious to your predicament. “Ew,” you blanch curtly, trying to sidestep him, but he shifts to block your path again.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he presses, leaning in slightly. “I’m just trying to be friendly. What’s your name?”

Before you can muster a surely bitchy reply—or a curse—a presence appears behind you.

“I don’t think this is your side of the field,” a familiar voice cuts in, light yet edged with authority. You glance up to see Heeseung standing at your side now, his lacrosse stick casually balanced over his shoulder, his expression calm but his gaze sharp. “Can’t you tell by the colors, dude?”

The opposing player stiffens slightly, his grin faltering as he sizes up Heeseung. “Just talkin’, man,” he mutters, his tone defensive now.

Heeseung doesn’t flinch, his smile remaining intact as he tilts his head slightly. “Right. And now you’re done.”

The player hesitates for a moment before shrugging and backing away, muttering something under his breath as he turns and jogs off. Once he’s gone, Heeseung turns to you, his easy smile returning. “You good?”

You refuse to utter ‘that was hot,’ so you settle for a, “Yeah. Thanks for that, though.”

Heeseung shakes his head, “Nah, you had that handled.”

You barely miss a beat with your response, “Yeah, but it was sweet of you.”

He shrugs with his hand up and that same grin, “What can I say?”

You make a face, “Not that.“

He goes to defend himself, but Gaeul appears with smeared lipgloss and a pretty grin to happily say, “Coach is kicking us off the field.”

“Joyful.” You say with a playfully stiff smile that has Heeseung whining. A soft giggle from you has his frown turning into a grin again and he shoots you a salute.

“I’ll tell Riki you wished him good luck, ma’am.”

“Don’t get concussed, say that too.” You call back as Gaeul tugs you back toward the bleachers, poster under her arm creased. She’s beaming, and you giggle at her glowing smile, “I think I know what you and Jay got up to while I was harassed.”

Her smile drops as she gasps with concern, “Harassed? What happened?” 

“It’s not that serious.” You quickly assure her, “Heeseung kinda scared him off, he was a guy on the YG team.”

“Ew.” She makes a face as you both arrive at the bleachers, and you nod.

“That’s what I said.” 

As you both arrive back to your seats, and you gasp and happily accept a hot chocolate Rin had thoughtfully gotten for you with a sweet side hug. God you hope Riki still wants you and you can keep this saint of a woman in your life.

As if on cue, the referee blows a sharp whistle, and the players jog to their respective side of the field. Riki is dismissed by Jungkook and pulls his helmet from under his arm as the other members of the team crowd around the coach, his head turning just enough to scan the bleachers.

Your heart skips as his gaze locks onto yours for a fleeting moment.

He doesn’t smile, not exactly—but his expression softens, his eyes warming like he’s relieved to see you there. The corner of his mouth twitches just enough to feel like a secret, like something meant only for you.

And then he pulls his helmet over his head and focuses on Jungkook’s words, it almost feels like a shock to your system but the lingering warmth in your chest makes it hard to feel the cold anymore.

You watch the team huddle, Jungkook’s game face amusing enough to you that you snicker softly before your attention falls back to Riki. Heeseung, who if your memory serves you right is 01, catches Riki’s shoulder in a brotherly way. 

Your brows furrow as you see Riki’s head tilt slightly at what Heeseung says, glancing in your direction and then the opposing teams, and you assume his eyes search for a jersey that reads 32.

The players move onto the field with another whistle, and you watch with dread as two opposing jerseys approach the center of the field. 10 and 32.

Now, you know very little about lacrosse despite it being your school’s biggest sport and your brother playing it, but you know that Riki is a midfielder. You know this through his excited play-by-plays of practice to you on the phone whenever he was finally out, as well as the basic knowledge of how a lacrosse game starts. Two midfielders wrestling for the ball. 

It couldn’t be called wrestling, however. Riki swipes it barely millisecond after the ref blows his whistle, tossing the ball to 05. 

You gasp softly as his shoulder slams into 32s chest hard enough to send him stumbling back, but his body moves quickly toward the opposing defense and away from the startled enemy. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was only doing so to keep him off Jake’s back. “Geez, what did you feed him?”

You ask Rin softly, eyes trained on her son and your brain attempting to wrap itself around the difference in his body language and…aggression on-field, when he had barely risen above a loud speaking volume in your presence. She chuckles, “Would you believe me if I said his diet largely consisted of taiyaki and ramen growing up?”

“No.” You awe at her words, eyes still on him but flitting to meet hers for a brief second, “That’s just unfair.”

“Tell me about it,” The elder of his sisters huffs, “I ate my vegetables and have glasses an inch thick, but he gets to eat sweets all his life and has perfect vision.”

“That’s your fathers genetics, not mine.” Rin clarifies, offering you an explanation like it’s second nature already, “That man can’t see something coming straight at his face until it’s already hit him.”

“My brother has horrible vision, too.” You snicker softly, your eyes rarely leaving Riki but only doing so to look between the three Nishimuras, “Refused to wear contacts, even for lacrosse.” You motion in the general direction of the field, and the older woman seems intrigued.

“Your brother plays?”

You shake your head with a soft laugh at your brother’s expense, “Not since highschool, and he was benched most games because he couldn’t see the ball,” your words have Rin laughing and Maki snorting, “plus he generally sucked. He really only joined because his friend was on the team.”

Jake scores a goal and the crowd around you goes wild with cheers, mainly higher in pitch. You let out a supportive cheer and immediately act like you didn’t when his helmeted head turns your way. You’re almost positive a shit-eating grin has formed behind his helmet.

The game continues, the scoreboard leaning toward Decelis’ victory as the first two quarters come to a close and half-time ensues. 

“No.” You reject Gaeul’s suggestion almost as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Aww, c’mon!” She whines, tugging your arm closest to her, “His face would be so funny!”

“He’s wearing a helmet, you can’t see his face. And it’s small enough for you to hold up by yourself.” You point at the poster-board in his hands, which she had happily held up for a good portion of the game until her arms got tired.

“But my arms are gonna fall off.” She groans melodramatically, “Please?”

“Buy me another cocoa and I’ll think about it.”

As half-time comes to a close, your right arm is screaming for relief while you hold your side of the poster up and nurse a cup of steaming cocoa in the other hand. Gaeul shamelessly screams in support of her boyfriend, who you see hunch over slightly like he’s holding back laughter of amusement.

Your hand feels like it’s about to fall off, and you curse yourself for refusing the mittens Eunchae had offered in favor of showing off your new nails. ‘They’re too pretty to cover up,’ you had whined, yet now you wouldn’t be surprised if your fingers started breaking off like a vampire’s from Twilight.

The scoreboard reads heavily in the home team’s favor, and you pray to every deity that the game finally ends for your arm’s sake (and your crippling anxiety). Though, watching Riki slice through YG’s defense and score points like they're nothing doesn’t look like it’ll be getting old for you anytime soon. 

“You’re drooling.” Gaeul teases as you suck in a sharp breath at the sight of Riki once again shoulder 32 off balance, hard enough for him to fall onto his ass this time. Tensions are high as the time counts down, though part of you’s hoping this never ends. 

“I don’t drool.” You retort in a soft grumble, yet you rub the side of your wrist over the corners of your mouth self-consciously. “I’m a fucking lady.”

“Right…” Gaeul agrees with playful doubt in her tone that’s punctuated by giggles as you playfully shove her shoulder.

The final whistle slices through the winter air as Riki launches the ball into the goal, accompanied by an uproar of cheers and groans from the crowd. Decelis has won, 12-7, the scoreboard glowing with the decisive win. The players pour onto the field, some celebrating, others trudging off in defeat. Your eyes dart instinctively toward Riki, helmet under his arm, hair damp with sweat as he exchanges fist bumps and quick words with his teammates. The way his expression softens to a grin when Jake slings an arm around his shoulders makes your stomach twist.

You clutch your empty cocoa cup, suddenly desperate to find a reason to approach him. Before you can muster up a plan, the chaos swallows him—players crowding, parents flooding in from the sidelines, and Gaeul’s excited tug on your sleeve pulling you back to the moment.

“Let’s go find Jay!” she beams, and you immediately look toward Rin, Maki, and Runa.

The woman smiles warmly and pats your shoulder, “We always wait in the parking lot for him. You two can have a moment.”

Gaeul is dragging you down the bleachers the moment you softly thank the woman. Your heart thrums as you scan the chaos for Riki, but he’s nowhere to be found. Gaeul bounces ahead, her attention locked on her boyfriend. 

Her hand slips from your arm as you’re both swept into the excitement, and her curls disappear in the crowd. 

The field feels like a warzone, buzzing with shouts, laughter, and the rhythmic stomp of cleats against frozen grass. You’re jostled in every direction, bodies pressing and colliding as parents swarm to congratulate their kids, and the players themselves disappear into the fray. Your fingers curl around the half-empty cocoa cup as if it might ground you, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Where is he?

You catch glimpses of Riki’s teammates—Jake’s unmistakable blonde head bobbing as he jokes with Heeseung, Sunghoon hoisted onto someone’s shoulders—but Riki remains elusive, swallowed by the tide of bodies.

“Riki!” His name slips out, barely audible over the noise, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. What are you even doing? Someone brushes past you, hard enough to make you stumble. “Watch it,” you mutter, turning to see a player in a YG jersey, helmet off and grin too familiar.

32.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just gives you a once-over that makes your skin crawl. His shoulder brushes yours again as he angles toward you, his smirk sharper now. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he drawls, voice low enough that it’s almost lost in the noise.

You make a face of disdain, like speaking to him both disgusts you and is beneath you, “Is that supposed to be cute?”

“C’mon,” He says, tone dripping with what you assume is his attempt at charm, “Don’t be like that. You’ve been watchin’ me the whole game.”

“I don’t even know you.” You respond with the same look on your face that reads you’d rather be anywhere else than where you are, listening to him.

He steps closer, undeterred by your tone and clear disgust, “That can be remedied,” His voice is low, and you see his hand move from his side to reach for your waist.

Your anger takes over your motor control, and the half-empty, long chilled cocoa in your hand splatters over the front of his jersey, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

The cocoa splashes onto his jersey in a satisfying arc, the dark liquid seeping into the white fabric. His grin falters for a moment, replaced by a stunned look that quickly twists into irritation. “Are you fucking serious?” he snaps, brushing at the stain, but it’s a futile effort.

“Yeah, I’m fucking serious,” You retort, mirroring his tone, “Who the fuck told you that you could fucking touch me?” 

The players around you have started to notice the commotion, a few stopping to watch as Number 32 bites back, “You’re not even worth half of what that bitch offered me.”

If what boiled within you was anger, then what it morphs into at the player’s statement must be seething fury, “Excuse me?”

“What’s goin’ on here?” A hand clasps over your shoulder but the voice calms any volatile reaction brewing in your gut, Jungkook stepping between you and the YG player.

Jungkook’s presence immediately shifts the energy around you. His broad frame looms between you and Number 32, the way his body blocks out the other player like a wall of stone, calm yet unyielding. The cocky grin fades from the YG player’s face as he holds up his hands in mock surrender, shooting a glare at Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t even glance at the YG player, his focus entirely on you as he steps closer, his gaze softening slightly when he sees the tension in your shoulders and the shift in your jaw. “You okay?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle in the midst of the chaos.

You nod, even though the heat of anger still lingers in your chest. “I’m fine,” you say, but your voice shakes just enough that Jungkook catches it.

His eyes flick briefly to the YG player, who’s clearly not in the mood to test Jungkook’s patience any further. “Walk with me,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. You want to protest, to stay and search for Riki, but something about the way Jungkook stands there—tall, unshakable—tells you it’s not worth resisting.

He guides you through the crowd and off the field with his hands on your shoulders. When the two of you arrive at the edge of the field where the bleachers drop off and the parking lot comes into view, he releases you. “Do I need to go talk to that kid’s coach? Or parents?”

“No, I think the shit-colored stain on his jersey says enough.” You retort swiftly, the implications of his words stick with you, though. ‘You’re not even worth half of what that bitch offered me.’

It isn’t as if you woke up yesterday, you know he’s talking about Nayeon. Whether it be some kind of intuition or you’re just that fucking familiar with her thought process from years of what you had thought was friendship, you know it. 

“Hey.” Jungkook’s gruff but somewhat gentle call snaps you out of your stewing, and you blink at him, “Don’t do anything I’m gonna hear about, okay?”

Your immature response is interrupted by the loud cheers and chatter morphing into shouts and hollers of a more alarmed tone that has the both of you looking in the direction of the field. Jungkook doesn't seem eager to let you involve yourself in whatever it is that’s going down on the field, you know this because he’s shooing you off toward your car in a dismissive but authoritative tone. 

If you cared at all about anything except beating Nayeon’s face in at the moment you would be protesting and following after him as he jogs toward the commotion, but you don’t. Instead, you walk to your car, toss your Prada bag into the passenger seat as it begins to warm up, and plot.

Watching your friend group’s grins fall while learning that you did not, in fact, kiss Riki after the game but left without even speaking to him in a fit of blind rage was not how you wanted to start your weekend. You blame their soured moods for the fact that all four of them were avidly against your plan to beat Nayeon’s face in the next time you see her, but begrudgingly decided to not jump to conclusions.

The only proof you have that Nayeon was the one to sic that cretin on you may be his words, which aren’t worth much, but you refuse to believe anything else.

Monday arrives with not a singular text or call from Riki, and while Belle has already talked you off of the metaphorical ledge about it, you feel the urge to disappear off the face of the Earth every time you imagine seeing him again after leaving the game he asked you to attend without so much as a word.

Part of you figures the silence on his end is payback, or him deciding to finally let his alleged crush on you go. The other part of you really hopes he was just busy.

Jake is…silent in your second period. Not that you’d mind the silence on any other day, but it’s definitely not normal. Well, he’s silent until he catches sight of the charm bracelet on your wrist as it clinks softly on the desk. His grin is back in seconds and he takes his phone out.

“Want a picture?” You offer sarcastically. When Jake eagerly nods and holds his phone up for the picture, you shoot it a mock smile and manicured middle finger as your charm bracelet catches the light above.

With giddy giggles, Jake takes the photo and practically bounces in his seat in joy as he taps his thumbs on his screen hastily. You’re rolling your eyes and looking down at your worksheet when he asks, “Wanna know who I’m texting?”

“If I wanted to know I’d ask.” You respond swiftly, tapping the eraser-end of your pencil on the desk absentmindedly.

“It’s Riki.” He states with a smugness that pisses you off.

Looking up from the paper, you raise your brows, “Okay?”

“He needed proof,” He adds on with his arms crossed as he leans back in his seat, “Wanna know why?”

“I feel like you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

He’s still smirking as he proves you right, “He thinks you hate him.”

You blink, annoyed nonchalance pushed aside by genuine confusion, “Why would he think that?”

Jake shrugs, though his face seems anything but clueless and you hate that he knows more than you do, “Maybe ‘cause you left the game without saying anything to him.”

“Jungkook made me get off the field.” 

“You could’ve waited with his family in the parking lot.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You snap, growing frustrated with the conversation despite it being your own damn fault, “Why are you telling me this, Jake?”

“‘Cause he’s my friend and he’s been miserable.”

“Then he should talk to me.” You retort with a sigh, guilt filling your gut despite your defensive words, and he tilts his head with a nod of agreement, “If I hated him he’d know. I don’t exactly keep that shit a secret.”

Jake, who had bore witness to your fight with Jaclyn Delvacchio in junior year, hums, “Well, can you do us all a favor and talk to him, please?”

“We have fifth period, I’m not gonna ignore him for an hour when he sits next to me.” You roll your eyes and focus back down at your worksheet.

By the time the bell rings, you’re halfway between plotting your own demise and debating if you should actually try to talk to Riki. The idea makes your stomach twist. What if Jake was wrong, and Riki doesn’t want to hear from you? What if your silence solidified something in him—pushed him away for good?

But then you remember how he smiled at you that day in the hallway, the soft tug of his lips like he couldn’t stop himself, and how his eyes lit up when you agreed to come to the bowling date. You remember the way his voice faltered ever-so-slightly when he asked you, like he was bracing himself for rejection but couldn’t bear not to try.

The thought makes your stomach hurt and your chest heavy, and you realize something that makes you want to kick yourself: you don’t want to lose that. You don’t want to lose him.

Yet, you so easily brushed him aside in your list of priorities to stew in your anger about someone who shouldn’t even be a thought in your mind at this point. 

You screwed up. Again. 

At this point, you feel like you’re winning the losing game. Not only do you hate losing, but you hate the feeling in your chest and gut that makes you want to go home and rot until Riki forgets you ever existed. Belle’s voice screams in your head to talk to him, to make the effort to speak to him and throw away your pride.

So, instead of staying in your old Latin teacher’s class for fourth period grading papers, you persuade her to let you spend your fourth period ‘at lunch with your friends’. 

Your friends all share the same lunch period; sixth, when you’ve already gone home. So you lied, yes.

But Riki has fourth period lunch.

You slip through the cafeteria doors, the clang of trays and the murmur of conversation fading as you scan the room for him. The place is packed, and your heart beats louder than the chatter around you. It’s ridiculous—Riki isn’t hard to find. But your anxiety builds anyway, sending a slight tremble through your hands.

You spot him by the window, his profile framed by sunlight, his usual quiet demeanor marking him as an island in the chaos of the cafeteria. His friends surround him, but they’re not your focus. Your eyes zero in on him, his long sleeves pulled up to his elbows, his hair messy and covering his forehead like he didn’t feel like styling it this morning, the rings on his hands that glint in the cafeteria light.

But before you can make your way over, the sound of a voice you loathe cuts through the air, sharper than glass.

“A couple hundred bucks and he was practically my dog.” Nayeon muses at the two girls you barely recognize that sit across from her at a table not far from you, “Sucks that he failed, though. Would have spent my money on someone else.”

“So you…had him hit on her?” The girl on the left asks, a bit confused as she exchanges a look with the girl beside her.

Nayeon seems eager to relay the details, “I told him she liked playing hard to get,” She shrugs disinterested, yet you see a sliver of the smirk on her face from your angle, “made him all the more eager to knock her down a peg.”

The two girls seem peeved by what she says, like any sane person would be, but anything either wants to say dies on their tongue as they catch sight of you. “Girl…”

One trails off as you begin your approach, the same lightness in your gut that has your vision clouded with seething fury.

She looks over her shoulder just enough for you to see her smirk drop into wide-eyed fear.

Your hand catches the back of her head, slamming the side of her face into the table with little care for the eyes that immediately find you, “Sorry, I didn’t hear you, bitch. What was that?” There’s ‘ooo’s and ‘oh shit’s from the wuickly forming crowd as you pull her up by her hair, launching the flailing girl onto the ground. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She scrambles off the ground, immediately getting in your face as she hisses, “You don’t deserve him.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” You curse as your hand meets her face, and she shrieks as her head snaps to side. 

Nayeon recoils for a moment, eyes wide with shock, but the anger on her face quickly replaces any hesitation. "You think I'm scared of you?" She spits, moving toward you with a snarl. She may not have expected this, but now that it's happening, she seems desperate to prove herself.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, you shove her into one of the metal chairs, the clattering sound of it screeching across the floor as she stumbles backward. The two girls hasten to get out of the way, faces a mix of fear and ‘oh shit’. 

Nayeon picks herself up with blind fury guiding her actions, hands flying out as she lunges forward to shove you back. Your hands grasp her hair again, and the crowd surrounding the scene roars.

Her nails claw at your wrist as you yank her forward. She’s small, but her anger makes her stronger than she has any right to be. The fight is a mess of hair pulling and shoving, curses from you and shrieks from her.

You shove her hard into the table again, the force sending a tray of half-eaten food crashing to the floor, and the crowd goes wild, hooting and cheering. The heat in your chest ignites with every movement. The adrenaline rush is undeniable.

Nayeon's attempts to push you back only seem to fuel your anger further. Her breath is ragged, and you can practically taste the bitterness she's been carrying since the moment you stepped into her world. Every movement of hers is desperate, like she's trying to claw her way back to a victory she's long since lost.

"Get the fuck off me!" she yells, her voice barely audible over the chaos. But you don't listen. You slam her against the chair again, hard enough that she falls onto her ass, eyes wide with disbelief. Nayeon's face contorts in pure anger as you approach again, her hands flying up in a futile attempt to strike you. Her nails scratch at your arms, but the pain barely registers.

But then, someone grabs your waist, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. The world tilts as you're pulled off of Nayeon, feet leaving the ground. For the split second that you’re struggling against them, thinking it’s one of her friends or a teacher, you curse at them too.

Then the cologne hits your nose and the voice hits your ears, “Alright, that’s enough, pretty girl.”

Your heart stutters in your chest as Riki’s voice cuts through the frenzy, low and soft in your ear, but with a sharp edge of firmness that you’ve never heard from him before. His grip on you doesn’t waver, and despite the anger still coursing through your veins, you freeze for a second, thrown off by the ease he had pulling you off of that traitorous bitch—who’s being held back by Jake and Jungwon.

“Skank!” Nayeon shrieks, clawing at Jake and Jungwon’s arms that keep her from lunging at you again.

Any calm that Riki’s presence brought you is washed away, but he pulls you back by the waist as you move to have a go at Nayeon again. His arms wrapping around you to keep your arms at your sides as you bite back,  “Says you, bitch.”

“Easy, easy,” He eases, your back hitting his chest as your jerky and angry movements force him to pick you up again, “Cool it, baby. You got her good.”

“Get her out of here before the teachers get here,” Heeseung orders in a hushed tone as the other members of the lacrosse team grab at phones and shove the crowd back.

“I’m not—hey!” Your defiant statement is interrupted by the arm around your waist tightening and your feet lifting off the floor once more. “Riki!”

“I know, I know.” Riki’s hold is firm as you struggle weakly against him, his voice deep and low like he’s easing a wild animal, his touch warm. You can’t bring yourself to fight back the way you did with Nayeon as he walks you out of the cafeteria building. His presence, the warmth of his chest against your back, it all has your defense mechanisms easing up and your anger softening to a low simmer.

When he finally sets you back down, the cool chill of the air eased only by the sunlight hitting the two of you, you turn to face him with a charged glare, “I can walk.”

He holds his hands up in good faith, or maybe an attempt to calm you down, “I know, baby.”

“And she deserved that.”

“I know, baby.”

The way he repeats himself so softly, how he’s letting you take out the remnants of your anger on him, it only makes the ache in your chest worsen. You exhale sharply, “Stop that.”

“Okay.” He says, voice soft but no pain or hurt to be detected in his voice, only in his eyes.

Your own sting almost automatically with both frustration and anger at yourself and no one else, “No, not—“ Taking a deep breath, your hands move to your face, “This is all wrong.”

“What is?” You try not to notice how he doesn’t attach ‘pretty girl’ or ‘baby’ to the end of his question. You fail.

“Everything.” You mutter, exhaling another soft, “Fuck.”

“You’re bleeding.” He points out, his hands pulling yours from your face to examine the scratches up your arms. 

“Nails are intact, though.” You mumble softly, trying to make yourself feel better. Riki looks at you in slight disapproval, brows furrowing, and you add, “I’m okay.”

He sighs, shaking his head, “There’s a first-aid kit in the locker room, let me clean you up.”

“Ew, I’m not going into the boys locker room.” You reject his offer with an obstinance that would usually amuse him, yet he shows a sliver of frustration in his body language. “And I told you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, you can either walk or I can carry you.”

“As if.” 

Your challenge is met with him raising his eyebrows and lunging for you a second later. You flinch and swat at his hands, “Okay, fine!” He pulls back again with a ‘that’s what i thought’ look, “I’ll walk.” you add with a defiant ‘hmph’ as you walk past him.

He doesn’t press the issue, following you towards the athletics building and holding the door open for you to enter first, to your utter fury of course. Stupid boys. Stupid emotions.

When you find the boys locker room, you pause as he pushes the door open, “I’m not going in there.”

He sighs with a nod like he expected as such, “I’ll be right back, stay here.”   

You sigh and cross your arms, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the wall across the locker room entrance.

Riki returns with a first aid kit and his hoodie, “Let’s go to the bleachers, no one’s got practice today.” You assume the hoodie is for you, and you’re proved correct when he tosses it into your face and snickers when you curse at him. “C’mon.”

You begrudgingly walk with him out of the athletics building to the school field not a far walk from the entrance. 

You hear the bell ring from where you sit on the bleachers minutes later as your chilled fingers are tended to by the lacrosse player, “You’ll be late, you know.”

“We’ll both be. It’s fifth period now.” He states as he delicately cleans the raw skin streaking up your wrist with an alcohol wipe.

“Ow.” You mumble, and he tsks with a growing smile.

“Don’t be a baby.” He teases, and you mock his words in a higher pitched voice back to him.

“Fuck you.”

He snickers softly, gently rotating your hand in his to clean the visible lines tainting the delicate flesh, “Baby.”

His statement isn’t the beckon or fond coo you wish it’d be, but it causes flutters in your gut all the same. You mock him again and he huffs softly in amusement, refraining from continuing the back and forth to focus on your scratched up wrists and forearms. 

As he moves to your right hand, his touch lingers on the charm bracelet hanging off your wrist as he dabs at the skin. The metal chain catches the sunlight, twinkling faintly against your wrist as Riki pauses. His thumb brushes over one of the charms absentmindedly before he speaks, voice softer than you expected. “You’re wearing it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you reply, trying to sound casual despite the way your pulse stutters. His touch, even as fleeting as it is, sends a warm shiver through you.

“I just…” he trails off, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours briefly, his gaze filled with something tender. “I wasn’t sure if it was your style.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a slight furrow of your brows, and he snickers softly.

“I’m sure it’s not the luxury you’re accustomed to.” 

“Everything I wear isn’t expensive. I’m not a snob.” You huff in slight offense, though he finds it amusing.

“Never said you were a snob, princess.” He clarifies, discarding the alcohol wipe to grab the ointment from the kit, “Nothing wrong with being spoiled.”

“I’m not—“ you go to argue, but the amusement on his face has the words dying on your tongue as you look away from him, “You’re such an ass.”

“Aww, I’m wounded.” He pouts softly, before it turns into that pretty smile again and he laughs softly, “It looks good on you.”

It takes a half-second for you to remember he’s talking about the bracelet, and your instinctive reply comes in the form of a weak, “Fuck off.”

His head falls forward as he laughs at your weakly aggressive statement. His touch is still gentle as he continues, hands unbelievably warm around yours. How unfair.

“Your hands are freezing.” He states softly, tube of ointment placed aside in favor of engulfing your hands in his. You watch him rub at them, your nails clicking against his rings with every movement until they catch his attention, “These are nice.”

“I know.”

He huffs in amusement, biting his bottom lip before he says, “‘Course you do.”

The tension between the two of you shifts, delicate and tenuous, like a thread stretched too tight. Riki’s touch is warm and steady, and you hate how easy it would be to let yourself relax into it. His thumbs keep brushing over your knuckles, slow and deliberate, and your chest tightens with every pass.

You clear your throat, trying to focus anywhere but his hands, but when you look up, his gaze is already on you. It’s not intense, exactly. Not piercing or overwhelming. Just…soft. Patient, even. The kind of look that has your fight or flight instincts kicking in to protect the 

“What?” you snap, defensive and unsure, your voice sharper than you mean for it to be. You regret it instantly when his brow furrows slightly, though his hands don’t pull away.

“Nothing,” he replies softly, his voice steady. “Just glad you’re okay.”

The simplicity of it almost knocks the wind out of you. You blink, trying to find a reply that won’t give you away, but the words stick in your throat. All you can manage is a mumbled, “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone carrying a gentleness that makes you ache. “But I worry about you anyway.”

You don’t know what to do with that—how to handle the sincerity in his voice or the way his touch lingers like he’s afraid to let go. It feels like too much and not enough all at once.

“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, trying to pull your hands back, but he holds them lightly, just enough to keep you there without forcing you.

“Can’t really help it, pretty girl.” His lips curve into a faint smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Especially when you’re getting into fights.”

Your stomach twists, a cocktail of guilt and frustration bubbling to the surface. You want to tell him it wasn’t just a fight. That it was Nayeon, that she deserved it, that you were defending yourself in more ways than one. But that isn’t the truth, is it? Not really.

“I—” You start, then stop, swallowing down the lump rising in your throat. “I don’t—” Your voice wavers, and you hate it. “Riki, I can’t—I’m not good at this.”

“At what?” his hands grasp yours tighter as he leans forward with his gaze so…so attentive. 

“This.” You motion vaguely between the two of you, trying to not cry in front of him. You’re failing horribly. “Us. You. Me. God, fuck.”

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” He pleas softly, and your chest feels as warm as your hands are in his.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” You exhale, head dropping back in an attempt to keep your frustrated tears from falling, “And I keep fucking up everything good in my life, and I just—“

His neck cranes slightly to meet your gaze as you avert it to his hands around yours, waiting for you to continue. Listening.

You take a deep breath, “I like you, I really do,” his thumbs slow to a stop against your knuckles, but you don’t look at him, “and you’re so—perfect and I’m not—“

“Don’t say that—“

“I’m not.” You insist, and one of his hands moves to your cheek as you continue, thumb gently wiping away a stray tear, “I’m…messy and mean-“

“I don’t care about that.” He argues gently, but you’re not done.

“-and I can’t even handle my own shit in a mature way so why should I be able to give you anything better—“

You don’t get to finish as his lips press against yours, cutting off your spiraling words with a kiss so sudden and deliberate it steals every thought from your head. 

His hand on your cheek tilts your head up toward him, his other remains holding yours. It’s not a hesitant kiss. There’s nothing unsure or tentative about it, not like the first one he gave you. He isn’t suffocating you, or doing anything more than moving his lips against yours like it’s all he’s wanted to do for years but knows to take his time savoring it instead of rushing in with teeth and tongue.

All you know is that you’re leaning into him, your anger, frustration, and self-doubt melting away under the weight of his touch. It’s a good kiss—better than good. It’s consuming, overwhelming, and entirely too much, yet you feel like more wouldn’t be all that bad.

When he pulls back it isn’t far, his forehead resting against yours. You’re breathless, your lips tingling in the aftermath and brain foggier than you’d like to admit. His nose brushes against your as he says, “I don’t care about any of that,” his voice is low and hoarse, “I just want you.”

You exhale shakily, feeling his words hit you lips, “Riki—“ 

“I’ll wait.” He promises softly, a hint of desperation in his words that has something in your gut fluttering, “However long it takes for you to be ready, I’ll wait.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you shake your head weakly, looking down at your lap. “That’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t care about fair, pretty girl.” He responds with a slight smile, hand moving from your cheek to tilt your chin up and make you look at him. His gaze flits between your eyes and lingers below your nose, a pattern that mirrors your own. “I can wait.”

His words are soft, spoken like an oath as his eyes find your lips again and decide to stay there a while.

“Why?” You ask, barely a whisper.

Riki lifts his gaze to look you in the eyes, a soft smile on his lips as he says, “‘Cause I like you more.”

You roll your eyes, “Is it a competition?”

He hums low, as if apprehensive, “Not much of one.” Your jaw drops slightly as if offended and he laughs softly, “I mean, I have you completely outmatched, pretty girl.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenge with a slight laugh, “How so?”

He shifts closer as he hums again in thought, “Well, you’ve liked me for how long? A few weeks?” The question is more of a statement, and he seems unbothered by the short time-span with the smile on his face, “Yeah, I’ve got you beat.”

“You didn’t know me until recently, so it doesn’t count.” You argue with defiance, and he raises his brows.

“Are you invalidating my feelings for you right now?” He asks in a mock-offended tone, hand moving to his chest.

You scoff with playful annoyance, looking away from him briefly before your gaze finds him all over again, like a moth to a flame, “How long?”

His smile turns shier, and he chuckles awkwardly, “Nah, it’s not a competition. You’re right.”

“Nuh-uh, you started it,” You laugh, shoving his sturdy chest weakly, “C’mon, I already know. I just wanna hear it.”

Your smug words paired with the shrug you give have his eyes narrowing, “You know?”

You nod, “Jake ratted you out.” 

Riki’s eyes widen slightly and he groans, head dropping forward in embarrassment, “I’m gonna kill him.”

Riki lifts his head, still chuckling under his breath as he finally relents, “Alright, fine.” His eyes meet yours again, warm and steady, even as a blush creeps across his cheeks and ears. “Since freshman year. Happy now?”

Despite you being the one to force it out of him, you hold back the urge to giggle and turn away from him. “Very.” You answer with a slightly blissful grin on your face.

“You gonna hold that over my head?” He asks playfully, leaning closer like he wants to kiss you again.

You fight every impulse telling you to close the distance yourself, but let your eyes move between his eyes and smirking lips freely, “I might.”

“Yeah?” He jests softly. 

You hum, deciding to be a little mean. “I could also hold over your head that your mom still thinks we’re dating.”

His eyes shut and the hand creeping towards yours again freezes. His head falls forward and you panic for a moment thinking you went too far before you realize his shoulders are shaking and you can hear soft wheezing. “You’re mean.”

His muffled whine makes you snicker gleefully, and you add, “She said I’m good for you.”

You don’t realize the joy behind those words until he raises his head with a teasing but genuine (and flirty) grin on his face as he asks, “You’re happy about that, huh baby?”

You find yourself teasing him back instead of getting hostile at his flirty tone, probably due to the boost he gave your ego, “Mmm, not as happy as you seem to be with me as your girlfriend. According to your mom, anyway.”

Before he can reply, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.

“Nishimura.”

Both of you whip your heads toward the source of the sound. Standing at the bottom of the bleachers with his arms crossed and an exasperated expression is Jungkook. He’s wearing a hoodie and joggers, looking like he just came from the gym with his curls in a bun, but his sharp eyes land squarely on Riki first, then shift to you.

“What the hell are you two doing up there?” Jungkook asks, though there’s no real heat in his tone.

Riki straightens up, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just…taking care of something, Coach.”

Jungkook’s brows rise, and he gestures toward the field. “And why aren’t you in class?”

“I—uh—” Riki stammers before Jungkook waves a hand dismissively.

“Save it. I don’t need the whole story. Just get your ass to class before I have you running suicides until next week.” His gaze softens slightly as it flicks to you. “And you? ”

You shrink a little under his stare, mumbling, “I wasn’t feeling well.”

Jungkook lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You—” He shakes his head before gesturing toward the parking lot. “Go home, kid. And no more fights, please—or distracting my team.”

“Alright, alright,” you mumble as you stand. You glance at Riki, who’s already grinning like this whole thing is hilarious, and shoot him a glare. “Stop smiling, you ass.”

Riki just snickers, his grin growing wider as he stands. “I’ll walk you to your car, pretty girl.”

Jungkook shakes his head, muttering something about teenagers and their hormones. “She can walk herself, get to class.” 

Any complaint Riki wants to make is silenced by the pointed finger Jungkook sends him, and he sighs. Your cheeks burn as he leans down to press a kiss to one of them with a soft, “See you later, pretty girl.” 

Riki averts his eyes from Jungkook’s judgmental gaze as his star midfielder jogs down the bleacher steps, offering a respectful bow of his head as he passes.

Jungkook then looks over at you, and you’re already arguing, “I have to get my bag from my locker.” 

He deadpans, clearly unimpressed as he says, “Ask one of your friends to get it for you.” 

Unable to argue with his reasoning, you let out a soft huff and begin patting your pockets for your phone. A relieved sigh escapes your gloss-smudged lips when your fingers brush against the device through a layer of fabric. Silently, you thank whichever of your spirit guides prompted you to button your back pocket before entering the cafeteria.

You suddenly remember another reason to stay a bit longer, “My keys are in my bag!”

Jungkook sighs, “If I see you in the halls in 10 minutes you’re getting banned from my field.”

You grin, bouncing down the steps with a happy, “Thanks, Coach Jeon.”

He makes a face of disgust, hand gently pushing the side of your head as you walk by, “Get out of here.”

It’s almost laughable how quickly the situation disappears, like it never happened. No one snitches—not one person. Even the crowd of students who saw everything miraculously forget when teachers start asking questions. It’s the lacrosse team who spins the story, their collective loyalty so seamless you almost believe they rehearsed it. Nayeon threw the first punch, they all swear. You didn’t fight back. You defended yourself.

The only video evidence of the fight are clips of Nayeon lunging for you and blurry photos, another thing you’re sure the lacrosse team took care of, so the school really have nothing to go off of. By the time the dust settles, it’s like the cafeteria incident is just another school rumor, one of those things everyone knows happened yet every retelling of events sounds skewed in some way.

Your mother hadn’t been informed by the school of the issue, thankfully, but you had endured a scathing voicemail from your father about the ‘stunt’ you pulled with Eunseok’s ‘bright and good’ girlfriend while eating Chinese takeout with Belle Tuesday night. She sat there munching on an eggroll and snatching small pieces of your sweet-fire chicken while your father’s angry ramble drew on and on for a few long minutes before he ended it with a, ‘call me back.’ The laughing fit you and Belle had over that one has become a bit of an inside joke now.

Thursday evening finds you in the kitchen of your home following your Aunt’s slutty brownie recipe with Riki on FaceTime propped up against the egg carton. “Butter, butter, butter…” You mumble to yourself as you reach for the ingredient, making a face as some of the softened dairy gets on your thumb. Riki, who had been silently observing you through the screen, snickers softly. You send a pointed look to the camera, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“M’not, you're just cute.”

“Fuck you.” You lose the fight against the smile forming on your face as you unfold the waxy wrapping of the butter and tip it into the mixing bowl, “I’m always cute.”

He only hums low with that same smirk on his face as he rests his chin on his arm, watching you switch on the mixer and grab a brownie pan from the cabinet beside the stove. A beat passes and he asks, “You don’t have to, you know?”

You glance away from pressing your knuckles into the cookie dough to flatten it along the bottom of the greased pan, “I know, but I don’t want your friends to have anything over me.”

Your joke is received with a soft laugh, “I wouldn’t let them hold it over you.”

“While I would like to see that, this is much easier.” You dismiss as you move to the sink to wash your hands and grab the pack of oreos. “Plus, Jungkook loves slutty brownies so maybe he’ll take the stick out of his ass if he gets one.”

Riki snorts softly on the other end, his bangs messily covering his forehead and eyes, “It’s game day, I don’t think the stick will come out.”

You hum in defeat, shrugging slightly as you begin to place the layer of oreos into the pan, “A sweet treat for good graces then.” 

Once you finish the layer of oreos, pour the brownie batter over it, and stick it in the oven, you sigh loudly. Fanning yourself and pulling your hair off your neck as you move toward your phone to grab it. “Jesus Christ, it’s hot.”

“It’s 30° outside.” 

“I’m not outside, I’m inside.” You sass with a ‘duh’ look on your face as you hold the phone angled up at your face as you walk toward the living room. “And how dare you try to contradict me.”

“Sorry, pretty girl. It won’t happen again.” He responds after a light chuckle.

You feign another roll of your eyes as you fail to fight the smile growing on your lips once again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

The next morning, you arrive at school earlier than you’d like—especially with how fucking cold it is. Still, you look cute and feel it too, with a new lip gloss on your lips and a pair of pearls on your ears to match the ones on your eyes.

Exiting your car, you hasten your trek to the field. The bags rustle at your sides as you chant a soft tune of “I’m so fucking cold” under your breath. Your hands are, once again, not protected by gloves as you so vehemently refuse to cover up Julie’s masterpiece. She was very pleased that her hard work stayed intact during the fight, but recommended you treat your hands with care if you want them to last as long as they usually do. 

Jungkook notices your approach, tipped off by the high-pitched shiver that escapes your lips as you finally arrive on the field—a sound that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team either. They seem to all slowly get distracted by your figure’s approach, eyes drawn to either the bags at your sides or cute way you’re walking in the cold.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook snaps in annoyance, his tone almost dismissive.

“Jesus Christ, this violates the Geneva Conventions in some way, I'm sure.” You huff softly, holding up the bags as you arrive at his side, “I made slutty brownies.”

Jungkook’s frown softens as the team parrots your words hopefully, and he then barks, “Single file, maggots.”

You’re almost too cold to enjoy the spectacle the team provides racing to get first in line, yet keeping a respectful distance ahead of you. You snicker softly as you set the bags down, bending with a shiver to grab them to pass out before the one in front of the line protests. 

“You’re cold?” Kai asks with worry from the front of the line, and the one behind him, Taehyun, steps out of line with his arms held out.

“I’ll pass them out, you need to warm up.” He fusses with a slight scolding tone, “There are hot-packs over there.” He cocks his head toward the bleachers as he takes your place in front of the bags.

You’re left standing there in confusion as Taehyun takes over your current job, walking towards the bleachers in search of the stated hotpacks before a warm object is pressed to your cheek and you startle. 

Riki snickers softly as you look at him in disgust before realizing it’s him, and your face softens to an eyeroll with a soft ‘fuck off’ muttered under your breath. You move to grab the hotpack from him, but he cheekily holds it out of your reach with a boyish giggle. 

The look you give him has him flattening his lips to hold back a grin as he silently hands the heat pack to you with a muttered apology. 

“Why aren’t you in line?” You question, and he has that same smirk on his face.

He shrugs, “Wanted to talk to my girl first.” You give him a look and he groans, “Can’t you just let me indulge for a second?”

“Patience is a virtue, Riki.” You muse as you cross your arms to tuck your hands away with a hotpack in each hand. “Plus, you said you’d wait.”

“And I will—I am.” He confirms with a shake of his head and a lighthearted grin, “But you could be a little more forgiving, pretty girl.”

“I don’t believe in forgiveness.” You retort with a shrug and a pretty smile.

“Niki!” Jake calls out from the line a few yards away, he’s a few players behind with a grin on his face as he says, “Don’t worry about getting in line, I’ll get you one!”

“Yeah, keep talkin’ to your girlfriend~.” Sunghoon teases, causing most of the team to snicker or whistle.

Riki’s ears go red, but when you point it out with a giggle, his hand immediately shoots to one of the red appendages and he shakes his head, “It’s the cold.”

“Niki, our shy boy!” Heeseung coos from the line, and the rest are all too eager to join in.

“Wow, Niki, you're so cute!”

“Niki, kiss her!”

“It’s giving Romeo!”

Riki groans softly, hands covering his face from your vision as you laugh, a warmth blooming in your chest that eases the chill in your bones. “I’m gonna kill them.”

He’s about to say something else when Taki takes a bite of the brownie in his hand and grunts something sounding like “oh yeah” with his words garbled by the mouthful he’s chewing. 

You watch the scene unfold with amusement, leaning back on your heels as the team collectively loses their minds over a baked good. Taki, still mid-chew, looks like he’s having a near-spiritual experience, while Jungkook shouts something about chewing with his mouth closed.

Riki uses the distraction to lower his hands from his face, a grin breaking through his earlier embarrassment as he watches you watching them. His voice cuts through the chaos, low and teasing: “You seem happy.”

Your gaze moves to him, “Is that an issue?”

“Not at all.” He responds smoothly, “You look good when you’re happy.”

“I always look good.” You retort out of habit. 

He seems to have expected it, nodding along in agreement before he asks, “So, if I asked you to wear my jersey instead of whatever cute shirt you were gonna wear tonight, would you?”

“Look good? Yes.” You answer with a light, teasing tone, “Agree? Mmm, maybe.”

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Sweet names will get you nowhere.”

“So, you like it when I call you that?” He asks, stepping closer with a cheeky grin.

You remain defiant, arms crossed as you instinctively lean away from him with a laugh, “I never said that.”

“You didn’t deny it either.” He retorts swiftly, his head tilting and his eyes moving over your face with a smugness that pisses you off.

“No, I didn’t.” You agree, and his eyes narrow slightly at the almost flirty smile on your lips as you turn away from him to make your way back to Taehyun. 

You fight the giddy feeling in your chest as you feel his gaze on you, deciding against sparing a glance back as you hear the crunch of his steps following after you.

As always, you’re right. Riki’s spare jersey looks adorable on you.

“He’s gonna die.” Gaeul practically squeals at the sight of you. It’s a bit warmer than the morning had been when you arrive at the opposing school’s stadium, the long sleeved fleece-lined undershirt protecting you from the chilled breeze. “Bitch, your ass looks fantastic.”

A grin brightens your face and laugh leaves your glossy lips as she fawns over your look, “Right?” You turn slightly to give her a better view of your behind purely out of excitement, because yeah, your ass looks good in these jeans. 

“It’s smiling at me,” She gasps, smacking your butt lightly with a laugh before hooking her arm with yours and beginning to tug you along. “I didn’t know if you’d come tonight with everything that happened last game.” 

“Why?” You ask a bit cluelessly, before remembering the event clearer and shaking your head, “Oh, that weird guy? No, I’m fine.”

She hums with a slight frown as the two of you get to the concessions, “I’m so sorry for leaving you in all the chaos, I didn’t realize you weren’t behind me until I got to Jay.”

Sensing the remorse behind her words, you find yourself quickly saying, “Don’t feel bad, I’m okay.”

“Ugh, I need your number! That’s been eating me alive all week!” She huffs softly as the line moves up, “I tried to find you at school but you kept evading me.”

“You couldn’t ask Belle? Don’t you two share a class?” You question with a slight tilt of your head and her jaw slacks.

“Why did I not think of that?” She mutters to herself as you both reach the front of the line and she orders herself a soft pretzel before looking over at you, “My treat, an apology.”

You aren’t one to reject free food when offered, so you look at the concession worker and say, “A Dr Pepper and another soft pretzel, please.” 

Gaeul pays and a worker in the back pulls out two warm pretzels as another grabs the familiar maroon bottle from a cooler. She starts speaking again the moment the food and drinks are in your hands.

“Food isn’t allowed on the field, but I already gave Jay a kiss before he went on the bus.” 

Her smile is suggestive, and you make a face that has her whining, “C’mon, I’ll hold your food while you go—“ She shimmies her shoulders and purses her lips into a kissy face that has you letting out a shrill ‘ew, stop!’

“That’s deplorable.” Your words contradict the laughter seeping into your speech, “I am not going down there.”

“Boring.” She groans, but her face brightens suddenly and she waves ahead. When you follow her gaze and find Mrs Nishimura approaching, you internally freak out until she smiles at you and you remember how lovely of a woman she is. 

A lovely woman who seems to zero in on the jersey you wear the moment she’s within arms reach, “Oh, don’t you look darling!”

She pulls you into a warm hug and you accept it keenly, “Thank you! Are Maki and Runa with you?”

Your question comes as she pulls away, keeping you at arms-length as she shakes her head, “No, they stayed home with their father, neither wanted to make the trip.”

The trip being about an hour long car ride to the other side of town, which is fair. Feels shorter when you’re driving, though. You got through SZA’s new album on the way, too.

The three of you make it to the bleachers, finding a spot to watch the game as the ref whistles and the teams start to huddle. The board reads:

STARSHIP ALIENS v. DECELIS DEMONS

You sporadically tear pieces off of your soft pretzel as your eyes follow Riki the entire game, catching his eye at multiple points and having to act like you don’t see he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face under that face-guard.

The Demon’s win 12-8 long past sunset, a chill nipping your nose and the empty paper your pretzel came in crumbled into a ball in your hand. Rin sends you the same look as the last game before retreating toward the parking lot.

The moment you step foot on the field after releasing Gaeul’s arm, Jake appears in your view with a big grin, “Didja see the weaving I did? I looked cool, right?”

You debate breaking it to the boy that you may have entirely forgotten he was even on the team, too focused on his teammate to even notice him.

“I don’t think she was watching you.” Heeseung appears with his helmet off and his sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead. He moves to throw an arm around your shoulder and you quickly dodge with an ‘eugh’.

“You’re sweaty and you stink.” You grumble with a grimace on your face, and Heeseung seems ready to complain before he grins again at something behind you and a second later arms engulf you from behind. 

“You’re cute from the back too, pretty girl.” Riki muses into your ear, lifting you up held against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. 

“Riki, you sweaty bastard, let me go!” You whine, struggling against him as he lets your feet touch the ground again.

He giggles boyishly as he obeys, and as you turn to give him a piece of your mind you find the curses dying on your tongue at the grin on his face.

His smile is wide and unapologetically smug, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes your chest feel like your heart is trying to claw its way out. His helmet dangles loosely in his hand now, his hair a damp mess but somehow still looking good.

“You can’t just pick people up like that,” you say, trying to sound annoyed but betraying yourself when your lips twitch upward. “It’s rude.”

He leans forward slightly, closing the gap between you as if he can’t keep himself away. “Oh? You didn’t like it?”

You roll your eyes, stepping back to put some space between you, but Riki matches your movement with an exaggerated pout, clearly enjoying himself. Before you can fire back with something probably aggressive or mean, another voice cuts in.

“Alright, Romeo, stop flirting and help us pack up,” Jungwon calls, dragging the duffel bags of gear toward the bus. He tosses a water bottle at Riki, who catches it without really looking.

“I’ll see you in a minute,” Riki says softly, his grin softening into something warmer that sends an entirely different kind of shiver through you. He leans down and kisses your cheek before jogging off to join his teammates. 

Holy fuck.

Your heart is racing in your chest like an old woman whose heart is about to give out, and your long sleeve undershirt is suddenly too damn hot. 

You barely manage to pull yourself together before Gaeul pops up next to you, a knowing smirk spread across her face as she loops her arm around yours. “He kissed you~,” she sing-songs, her tone just low enough not to draw attention, but her amusement is blatant.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, pressing a hand to your cheek like it’ll somehow stop the warmth there from spreading like the grin in your face. You hope the shadows cast by the stadium lights are enough to hide your flustered state.

Gaeul doesn’t let up as the two of you wander toward the edge of the field, her giggles like little daggers stabbing at your already tattered dignity. “He picked you up. And got touchy.”

“I’m aware,” You huff, “I experienced it.”

“I mean, I don’t think you get how big a deal this is,” she practically rambles, “Riki’s never been this…confident!”

“Oh?” You question with your brows furrowed slightly.

She nods with an eager hum, “Riki’s shy! At least he was when I first met him.” Everything up to this point hadn’t pointed you in that direction regarding Riki’s personality, too familiar with the smug smiles and nonchalance, “I mean, he’s like a different person now that you’re around.”

“That’s…good, right?” You question hesitantly, “I mean, he wasn’t weird or anything, right?”

Your voice must have failed to convey the jesting tone you intended because Gaeul quickly begins to backtrack as you approach the bus. Jungkook is at the driver's seat of the bus while some of the team boards it with their duffles hanging from their shoulders and others are loading the luggage compartment with gear, free of their shoulder pads and helmets. 

Even without the padding, Riki’s back is broad, jersey hanging off muscle. You can barely see Jake past him, who's on the other side of the compartment helping organize it. 

You forget about any questions on your tongue when the shorter male cheekily points out your approach from behind and he looks over his shoulder for you with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

Beautiful bastard.

He wastes no time in loading the equipment bag in his hands into the compartment before stepping away from the bus, jogging toward you with that grin. Gaeul begins to pull away with a grin, but leans in to speak quietly enough for him to not hear, “I’ll give you guys a second.”

She shoots a wink at you as she and Riki pass each other, a soft snicker leaving you as she calls out happily for Jay, who’s just stepped off the bus.

Riki slows as he reaches you, his smile turning slightly sheepish now that it’s just the two of you. He lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck, his other hand gripping the hem of his jersey. “You’re not mad about earlier, right?”

You ignore the fact his movements cause the jersey to ride up, revealing a sliver of his abdomen that makes you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

“I haven’t decided yet.” You respond with a nonchalant shrug and a thoughtful tilt of your head. 

He chuckles softly, his hand dropping from his nape as he steps closer with the same magnetism as before, like he doesn’t want to be too far, “C’mon, I was happy you’re here.”

“And you just had to pick me up?”

His laugh is warm and full, the sound washing over you and melting away any annoyance you could have pretended to feel. “Yes.” he says with a nod, his eyes crinkling at the corners again as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

This time, you roll your eyes and half-fight the smile naturally growing on your face, “Fine, but that’s your first strike.”

His brows raise in curiosity, his grin turning to a smirk as he asks, “First strike? How many do I get?”

“Three. Duh.” You sass, and he seems to find that just as amusing as your very serious strike system, though you find it kinda hot that he didn’t question the logic behind it. (The answer: if Sheldon Cooper can have a strike system, so can you.)

“And what happens after three?” He asks, leaning closer with intrigue and that stupid smile.

“Let’s hope you never find out.” You retort, having an idea of what to say but not sure if ‘flogging’ is too far. (You know Belle would laugh, though.)

“Nishimura!” Jungkook barks from the open doors of the bus. The last of the team is filing onto the bus, probably eager to get home. “Stop lollygagging and get on the damn bus.”

You snort softly at the word choice, but find that you aren’t safe from the Coach’s annoyance, “You too, go home. Don’t make me tell them about Shadow.” 

The gasp that leaves your lips is one of pure betrayal. The audacity. The nerve. “You—”

He raises his brows in a ‘do it, i dare you’ way and your lips fall shut.

Riki is unable to move past the Shadow thing. “Shadow? Like the Hedgehog?”

“No, like my cat.” You snap sarcastically, “Get on that damn bus.”

Your gaze moves to the vehicle in question, and you find the eyes of the Decelis lacrosse team trained on you and Riki. Through an open window, you hear a voice you think is Kai’s saying, “I thought her cat’s name was Gus.”

“Baby, you have to tell me now.” He laughs breathlessly, like he’s not sure whether to let it out or keep it in for your sake.

“It will never leave my mouth, and I swore him—“ Your words shift from defiant to angry as your finger shoots out to point at the tattooed man impatiently waiting at the bus’ door, “—to secrecy!”

Your words are full of betrayal as you vehemently continue with your manicured finger still pointed, “You took the Unbreakable Vow!

“You were eight.” The Coach retorts. “You used a Crayola marker. It was pink.”

You want to argue, but hold yourself back for everyone’s sake as you look back at a heavily amused Riki and say, “Get on the bus.”

“I’m not letting this go.” He warns with pure joy on his face and a laugh in his voice as he begins to slowly walk back.

You simply shake your head and cross your arms defiantly, “I’m not gonna tell you.”

He only tilts his head with ‘really?’ look, too smug for his own good, the bastard. 

Jay and Gaeul appear, her lipgloss smudged on his lips and messy on her own. Jungkook notices them with a disgusted frown and chilling glare. Jay mutters a ‘sorry Coach’ after kissing Gaeul goodbye, and she happily begins to approach your side.

Riki takes the brief moment of time to circle back and ask you quickly, “Are you free tomorrow? Or tonight?” 

You blink, mindful of Gaeul’s approach but finding his impulsivity endearing, nodding instead of saying something you’ll cringe at later.

His grin stretches wide, lighting up his face like you’ve just made his entire night. “Cool. I’ll text you,” he says casually, though there’s a spark of excitement in his voice that betrays him. Before you can respond, he jogs back toward the bus, shooting you one last look over his shoulder as he climbs the steps.

Gaeul sidles up to you, her arm sliding through yours with practiced ease, the grin on her face telling you she heard the exchange, “Ready to go?”

You’re thankful she doesn’t tease you again, nodding as the both of you begin to walk toward the visitor parking. 

With your back turned, you don’t see one of the slightly ajar windows sliding open more, or the boy that pops his head out of it until he calls out, “Hey!”

You stop mid-step, glancing back over your shoulder to find Riki leaning halfway out the window, his hair messy and damp but looking entirely too perfect for someone who just played an entire game.

You raise a brow in silent question.

“You look good in my jersey!” he calls out, his tone playful but tinged with something softer—something that makes your heart skip.

Your cheeks heat instantly, and you can’t fight the smile breaking across your face. Gaeul snorts next to you, gripping your arm like she’s about to combust.

“I know!” you shout back, doing your best to sound casual, though the warmth in your voice betrays you.

His grin widens, impossibly charming, and he shoots you a two-fingered salute before disappearing back into the bus as the vehicle begins to roll away. Gaeul finally releases her pent-up laughter, practically bouncing on her toes.

“You know?” she echoes, mimicking your response and clutching her stomach. “Girl, you’re gonna kill him one day with that play.”

You start walking toward the parking lot again, tugging her along to keep her from lingering. “I wasn’t playing anything,” you say, though the warmth in your cheeks tells a different story. “I do look good in his jersey. That’s just reality.”

“Sure, sure,” she teases, bumping her shoulder into yours. “But you could’ve just said thank you. Or blushed. Like a normal person.”

“Showing that he affects me is embarrassing.” You grumble softly, “I’ll die before I boost a man’s ego like that.”

(Though, you did cry in front of him about how much you like him, so maybe that argument isn’t valid anymore.)

She cackles at that, nearly stumbling over her own feet as you reach your car. “But, seriously, I’ve never seen him like that. He’s so…” Her voice trails off as she unlocks her own car a few spaces down, but the twinkle in her eye says enough.

“So what?” you press, opening your car door but pausing before you get in.

Gaeul grins knowingly, pointing at you with her keys. “So gone for you.”

You spend the next minute acting like the thought of him being ‘gone’ for you, as Gaeul put it, doesn’t make you want to squeal into a pillow and kick your feet, and when the two of you part ways that feeling remains.

The hour drive home feels longer with Riki on your mind, but maybe it’s the fact you aren’t sure if seeing him again tonight is the best idea. 

Something you’ve realized about yourself since meeting Riki is that you suck at impulse control. You preach self-control yet the moment he’s around you—or even mentioned—you find yourself wanting to act on every impulse the chemicals in your brain fire.

When you get home, pulling into the garage as your parents were once again out of town, you read a text Riki had sent not ten minutes prior.

A beat passes before he responds and you huff in disbelief.

The response comes in the form of a phone call. His contact photo lights up your screen, and you huff softly in amusement before pressing the answer button and bringing it to your ear as you get out of your car, “Yes?”

“Both?” His voice comes through, playful yet tinged with something warmer. You can hear the muffled chatter of his teammates in the background, he must not be home yet. “You’re really not making this easy for me, you know.”

“You asked,” you counter with a soft laugh, locking your car and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I just gave you the answer.”

“Yeah? Which door should I be knocking on? Front or back?”

“You’re not seriously coming tonight, stupid,” you say, though the idea isn’t unappealing. You reach the door, cursing softly at how loud the garage is as it closes. Your hand wraps around the door handle.

“Why not?”

“Riki,” you start with a laugh, entering your home and flipping on the light.

“What? You said both,” he teases. You can hear the grin in his voice, and you roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Besides, Coach is gonna drop us off at the field to grab our cars anyway. It’s not like I’m going out of my way or anything.”

You hesitate, caught between the thrill of seeing him tonight and the logic of how tired he must be after the game. “Are you sure you don't wanna go to bed?”

“Not really,” he says softly, a bit more serious now, warm. “I’d rather see you.”

Your stomach flips, the sincerity in his voice knocking the wind out of you. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he shoots back, but there’s a gentleness there that makes you smile despite yourself.

“You better shower before you get here,” You say after a beat, and you swear you hear a whispered ‘yes’ before adding, “Don’t need your stench stinking up my house.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles on the other end, a sound that comes through your phone beautifully. “Just don’t fall asleep before I get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, just text me when you’re on the way.” You walk toward the kitchen, dropping your purse on the counter and unzipping it to grab the eyedrops as you say, “Also, do you have a curfew?”

“Why? You tryna keep me for longer, pretty girl?” His teasing words are unfortunately true, but you refuse to admit it.

“Well, it’s already almost 10:00.” You dodge his question as you unscrew the tiny bottle in your hands, “I didn’t know if your mom would want you home sooner rather than later.”

“Nah, she’s fine with it.” He assures you, and then a beat passes and he asks, “What about yours?”

“They’re out of town, so it doesn't really matter.” You shrug, “So to answer your question, the front door is fine.”

You hear shuffling on the other end, a car door opening and closing, “So, you don’t mind if I stay a while?”

You can hear the smile in his words, and with a bite of your nail you say, “I’ll kick you out when I get sick of you.”

He laughs softly on the other end, “I’ll stay till you kick me out, then.”

You exchange a few more words before he hangs up to drive, and you have a window of time to panic(and clean up). 

After a five minute debate with yourself about taking off or keeping on your makeup, you decide the former is the better option with how late it is and your track record of falling asleep without doing so. 

(You also make a promise to yourself that if you fall asleep in front of Riki, death is the only option.)

So, when you get the text that he's arrived and you open the door with a bare face, you half-expect him to comment on it. You had FaceTimed him late enough for the boy to bear witness to your nighttime routine on multiple occasions, but he’d never shown any reaction to it.

The only reaction you get is the same boyish smile as always, the warmth behind his eyes making your heart lurch in your chest.

“Hey,” he greets softly, hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie as he steps inside. He smells like some mélange of citrus and musk, his body wash and cologne you assume, and it makes your head feel funny.

“Hey.” You respond with a light huff of amusement as you step aside for him to enter, closing the door behind him, “I see you showered.”

His damp hair covers his forehead, the same messy style he has everytime he takes off his helmet and sweat saturates each lock, yet a bit frizzy like he towel-dried it before he left.

He chuckles, head shaking lightly in amusement as he lets you lead him toward the kitchen, “I listen.”

His words are playfully defensive, the boyish smile on his face and the way he cranes his neck slightly makes you laugh, “You better.” He hums, dropping himself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island, eyes flickering over the space as you move to grab yourself a drink. “You want anything?” 

“Whatever you have.” He shrugs, so you grab two Dr Pepper cans from the fridge and move back to the island.

Riki watches you pull two straws from the drawer in amusement, his elbows on the counter as you pop open the cans with practiced ease and an unhurried leisure. You catch his eyes with a raise of your brow that has him smirking slightly and saying, “Just watchin’.”

“I’d prefer you didn't stare.”

“Can’t help it.”

You roll your eyes at him, but put the straw in and hold the can out toward him anyway. When he takes it with that almost besotted  look in his eyes and his fingers brush yours, you find yourself turning away from him the moment it’s out of your hand, “Are you hungry?” 

Riki shakes his head, tapping his fingers against the can before taking a sip. “Nah, we stopped for food after the game.”

You nod, opening the pantry to browse and distract yourself, but it does nothing to drown out the weight of his gaze. This was a horrible idea. When you glance at him, he’s still watching you, straw between his lips, eyes holding something unreadable.

“Stop it.”

Riki obediently averts his gaze, turning in his stool until he’s no longer facing you—though he playfully overachieves, turning his back to you completely. You can’t help but poorly conceal a laugh at his actions, which prompts him to look back over his shoulder for your smile.

You act like you don’t catch the way his gaze follows you, ignoring the way it forms a knot in your gut. “C’mon, let’s sit in the living room.”

He follows without hesitation, the soft thud of his socks against the floor trailing after you. You settle into the couch, tucking your legs beneath you, and he drops down beside you like he belongs there.

He does it so easily—makes himself at home in your space, in your presence. It should annoy you. Maybe it does, but not for the reasons you wish it did.

Riki sets his drink on the coffee table, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. He doesn’t touch you, but he could. If you shifted even slightly, if he reached just a little further.

You pretend not to notice.

You scroll through the options absentmindedly, hyperaware of Riki’s presence beside you—the way his fingers drum idly against the couch cushion, the way his head tilts slightly in your direction when you stop on a show.

“This good?” You ask, your voice quieter than intended.

“Yeah,” he says softly. You get the feeling he doesn’t really care what’s on.

You settle into the silence, the soft hum of the TV filling the space between you. For a moment, it’s almost comfortable, normal. But the stillness makes your mind race, and it’s impossible not to notice how close he is. You shift slightly, your side brushing against his as you settle deeper into the cushions, and the air feels thicker somehow, heavier.

You steal a glance at him, his eyes fixed on the screen, but there’s a subtle tension in his posture that wasn’t there before. His shoulders are a little tighter, his jaw a little more set, like he’s holding something back.

Like a ray of sunshine on a rainy day, Gus appears around the corner with a sweet trill and takes the attention of both of you away from the movie(and each other).

Riki perks up immediately, his gaze shifting from the screen to the small ball of fur trotting toward the couch. “Oh, hey, buddy,” he greets softly, leaning forward slightly as Gus hops onto the cushions with practiced ease.

You watch with amusement as he settles in Riki’s lap, loafing contentedly and blinking slowly at you from his spot. Unable to bear it, you shift slightly closer to the boy beside you to reach your cat more comfortably, muttering a soft and fond, “Traitor.”

The midfielder laughs softly, ringed fingers gently scratching the tomcat on his head near your own, “He loves me.”

“He’s a lovey cat.” You retort, and though your words are true, you’ve never seen him lay in anyone’s lap this fast, much less a boy. He was never too fond of Eunseok, and doesn’t really care much for Jongseob, yet seeks out affection from Riki every time he comes over. “He likes warm laps.”

“Maybe he just has good taste.”

“Or maybe he’s a cat.” You retort, shifting again in your seat to make sure you’re not too close. He comments this time.

“Am I making you nervous?” He asks teasingly, voice low. 

“Excuse me?” You ask with a judgemental confusion on your face.

He seems undeterred, only motivated by the tone you give him, “You keep fidgeting, baby.”

“What did I say about calling me that?” You lightly smack his side, and he winces playfully.

“My bad,” he concedes, hands lifting from Gus momentarily in mock-surrender, “it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t lie.”

He chuckles, “It’ll happen again.”

A noise begins to play from the other room, and Gus immediately launches himself from Riki’s lap to run off. You laugh softly at Riki’s slight pout, the boy dramatically reaching after the feline longingly, “That was his automatic feeder.”

“Damn.” He sighs, his hands falling back to his sides on the sofa. The tip of his thumb brushes your knee accidentally, and the tension in the air shifts once more.

Both of you seem to zero in on the simple contact, accidental and barely-there yet electric in a way you’d never experienced such minute touches. The tip of his thumb turns into the pad of it, a gentle tracing of circular patterns on your knee. Then, his knuckles join, as if testing the waters.

When you glance at him he's already looking at you, his eyes dark with something unreadable, something intense that makes your stomach flip and your chest explode with warmth. Like an itch, one you know how to quell but the side of your brain dealing with critical thinking tells you it’s probably a bad idea.

His palm flattening against your knee is enough for you to disregard the advice of your logical brain and act on the only impulse your brain can fire at the moment. 

Riki’s other hand moves to your cheek when you’re close enough, long fingers tangling into the hair behind your ear as his thumb brushes your cheekbone. His head tilts to the side, nose brushing yours as he shakes it lightly. He doesn’t use the hand on your cheek to push you away or tease you further, any playfulness gone and replaced by a warmth and desire that makes your chest fill with butterflies. 

Your breaths mix, the sound of the TV drowned out by the sheer madness of him. He looks like the last thing he wants to do is pull away, like it’s a struggle to not close the short distance between your lips and his—to not cross any lines. Then, his forehead presses to yours gently and he says, “We don’t have to. I can wait.” 

His words are soft, nearly whispered, yet his deep voice makes them heavier on your gut than you’d ever admit. You find yourself speaking in a mirrored tone, “I don’t want you to wait anymore.” 

His eyes widen just slightly, and his lips part, just barely, his gaze dropping to your mouth. His thumb continues its delicate path across your cheekbone, his fingers flexing in your hair as if anchoring himself to this moment. You can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the proximity making your heart race.

“I want you to know,” he begins, his voice a low rumble, “I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said about waiting…I won’t rush you.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, his words a tender weight against your chest. But it doesn’t change what you’re feeling now or how close he is. How easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him, to let all the tension and uncertainty dissolve with the space between your lips.

“I know.” You say with a slight smile.

Before you can second-guess yourself, your lips find his in a soft and brief kiss. 

Riki’s intentions seem to differ from your own as you move to pull away, the hand on your cheek sliding into your hair as his lips chase yours to pull you back in. There’s no hesitation behind it like before, his lips moving against yours with a building urgency that you can’t help but reciprocate.

You gasp softly against his mouth when the hand on your knee glides up your thigh, fingers pressing into skin and pulling you closer almost desperately. He tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss, a low sound from his chest setting your blood aflame as you maneuver into his lap.

His hands move as your knees settle on either side of his hips, warm palms splaying over the curve of your waist and fingers digging into flesh to feel you as close as possible. It’s too much, yet somehow not enough.

Your fingers thread into his slightly damp hair, another deep sound escaping his intoxicating lips that has your stomach flipping. His breath is warm against your skin, his lips brushing yours again and again, each kiss deeper than the last. You can feel the way his heart beats beneath your palm, just as fast as yours, and it makes something tighten in your chest.

Riki tilts his head slightly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he exhales softly, his grip on your waist shifting as his hands trail up your spine. He pulls you impossibly closer, a restrained urgency in the way he holds you. He's patient—always—but there's something in the way his fingers press into your skin, in the way his lips part just enough for his breath to mix with yours, that tells you he's feeling this just as intensely as you are.

Pulling away feels like the worst idea in the world, but your lungs ache and something in the back of your mind tells you this is all too soon, too fast. The sound that the disconnect of your lips with Riki’s makes sends a thrill up your spine that the look in his eyes only exacerbates.

His forehead is warm against your own as your breaths mix and his hands slide back down to your waist. His lips ghost yours as you pant softly against him, his head tilting and his nose brushing over your cheek as his lips find the skin there, then your jaw, and your pulse point. You can feel the chastity of his kisses, the type that’s so gentle you’re not sure if you actually felt his lips on you or you just want them there enough to trick your mind into believing it.

“God, pretty girl.” He sighs, burying his nose into your neck to stop himself from kissing you more.

“Riki,” you murmur, unsure of what you want to say, only knowing that you don’t want him to move away just yet.

He hums against your skin, his breath warm, sending a shiver down your spine. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, then exhale softly. “Nothing.”

He chuckles, low and knowing, before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, but there’s something tender in the way they study you, like he’s trying to commit this moment to memory.

His thumb brushes absentmindedly over your waist, his touch light, reverent. “You good?”

You nod, though your heart is hammering in your chest. “Are you?”

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering, then grins—small and lopsided. “Yeah.”

His gaze drops to your lips again, lingering for a beat too long before he exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “I should go before I do something stupid.”

The admission has your stomach flipping once more, but you find yourself huffing softly in amusement, “Yeah, you should.”

The moment your hands move to his shoulders and you attempt to dismount his lap, his arms wrap around your waist and his nose returns to its home buried in your neck, “Mmm, in a minute.” 

A laugh escapes you, breathy and light, as your fingers absentmindedly trace the line of his shoulder blades. “You just said you should go.”

“I should,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. “Doesn’t mean I want to.”

You hum softly, deciding against teasing him and instead settling into the security of his embrace. You feel him smile against your skin, slowly pulling his face from the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Then, his hands move, one sliding up your spine while the other lifts to cup your jaw, and he kisses your cheek. Soft. Chaste.

“Okay,” he murmurs, still so close. “Now I’ll go.”

You don’t stop him this time when he loosens his hold, when he gently shifts you off his lap. You don’t say anything as he stands, raking a hand through his already-messy hair(courtesy of your hands, of course), or when he stretches and his hoodie rides up. When he looks down at you, you almost shrink under his gaze before he smiles that warm way you love and he leans forward to grab your hand in his.

You let his fingers slide between your own, your eyes on him as he tugs you gently and prompts you to get off the couch to step closer to him with a soft huff of amusement, “I thought you were going?”

His hand in yours slips out in favor of joining the other on either side of your jaw, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks fondly as he mirthfully smirks down at you. You have no choice but to tilt your head back to look at him at this proximity, and he doesn’t seem all that eager to widen it.

“I am.” His muttered confirmation is contradicted by the way his lips find yours again, soft yet eager, no longer hesitant to join them as often as he’d like with your prior statement. When he pulls away and you chase his kiss, he hums with amusement in his grin, nose nudging yours. “How am I supposed to leave if you keep making me want to kiss you, huh?”

“I didn’t even do anything.” You defend yourself with a soft laugh.

“Mm, you don’t have to.” He groans softly, eyes shutting as he presses his forehead to yours and sighs, “You’re mine now, right?”

The bluntness of his question has your heart skipping but you hum as if apprehensive, “Maybe. You didn’t ask.”

His eyes open and he looks at you with playful disbelief and a whole lot of amusement, “You want me to ask you out, pretty girl?”

“I never said that,” You retort reflexively, ignoring the way his eyebrows quirk up in challenge and entertainment, “But I might be yours if you ask nicely.”

“Nicely. Right….” He nods in mock understanding, and when he leans in to kiss you again, you meet him halfway. “Will you…” He starts with his voice soft and deep in all the best ways as he pulls away between kisses to continue, “be…my girl?”

He pulls away just enough to see your face as you recover from the dizzying way his lips find yours, and your words are softer than you intended as you breathlessly reply, “I’ll have to think about it.”

His shoulders shake with soft laughter as he shakes his head and mutters, “shut up,” under his breath before he closes the distance once more.

𝒇𝒊𝒏.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

•°. *࿐ PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader •°. *࿐ SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. •°. *࿐ GENRE ― one-shot, friends-to-???, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au •°. *࿐ WORD COUNT ― 20.9k (yeah, i went kinda crazy) •°. *࿐ CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(fighting), cursing, high school, mc has a shitty ex-bf, cheating(not riki obviously), almond grandma(mentioned), a singular cigarette is smoked, mc is shorter than riki, riki can also pick mc up, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, mc has hair (texture and length unspecified, but can be put up), objectification of girls(not riki tho), mc objectifies boys back, dreamy riki, not suggestive or smutty but mc is absolutely a horndog, mc is her own worst enemy, mc using riki to get back at her ex but he likes it, i did not edit this lmao •°. *࿐ EXTRA NOTES ― inspired by euphoria and my hs experience, riki is a loser and a lover, implied that mc is 18, eunseok(riize) is an absolute asshole in this sorry guys i needed a villain, enha are all in the same grade, mc wears makeup and has a manicure of an unspecified length, mc has sick lore, also shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for digitally holding my hand thru this <3 •°. *࿐ SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, hiss by megan thee stallion, low by sza, i did something bad by taylor swift, without you by lana del rey, agora hills by doja cat, girls like me don’t cry by thuy, only girl (in the world) by rihanna, safety net by ariana grande, snooze by sza

part two

AT THE BEGINNING OF 2024, you lost for the first time in your life.

Finding your boyfriend of two years making out with a girl you know too well as Lee Nayeon, your best friend, on the Carrara marble countertop of your family home that you had trusted her to take care of for eight days while you were in New York was not on your New Year’s resolution. You had planned to stay to see the Times Square Ball Drop with your mom and stepdad, but you realized you’d prefer to spend it with your boyfriend.

He didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, considering he has his tongue down the traitorous bitch’s throat. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She screams, both of them startled by your appearance and scrambling off of each other. You feel an urge to slam her face into the precious marble they were defiling, but you stay where you are. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It isn’t what you think, babe—“

The speed at which Nayeon’s eyes filled with guilty and horrified tears fuels your rage, and behind you, Bahiyyih appears.

“Look who’s back—oh?” She stops beside you, arm hovering to wrap around you until she sees what you’re seeing. “Eunseok? Since when were you back from Stanford?”

“Since he’s been fucking Nayeon, apparently.” 

The barbie-haired girl’s eyes widen, and as she looks between the two she notices the same things you’re painfully aware of. Nayeon’s smeared lip gloss, her tears, Eunseok’s undone jeans, and the sparkly residue on his mouth. “Oh…”

Nayeon’s whimper as she slides off the counter snaps you out of your daze, “You’re crying?” The angry tears forming in your eyes go unshed as you walk closer to her, “You fuck my boyfriend, and you’re fucking crying?”

Anger turns to fury when the boy in question gets between you and her, pleading to let him explain, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you away, only for you to jerk away, “Okay, I won’t touch you, just let me explain—“

“How long?”

“What? Babe, this isn’t-“

“How long have you been fucking him?” Your question is directed at who you thought was your friend, who avoids looking at you as she silently weeps. Scoffing, you realize you won't get a straight answer and choose to reel in your urge to beat her face in with one of your stepdad's bowling trophies that’s on display a few steps away. “Get out.”

“Babe, let me—“

The attempts at holding in your temper are lost on you, quickly forgotten as you walk over to the fireplace, grabbing the fire poker hanging up and holding it up. Nayeon lets out a scared, oh my God, while Eunseok tries to calm you down, demanding you put down the weapon. Instead of that, you walk past them, out the front door, ignoring Bahiyyih’s, “No, no, no—”

Eunseok’s red Mustang sits prettily in the driveway, and you can hear him realizing what you intend to do, but it’s too late for him. You slam the poker down onto the hood of his car, “Get. Out!”

“You crazy bitch, what is wrong with you?!” He screams, and you find yourself screaming back.

“Take your side piece and get. Out!” You slam the poker down again, and in minutes he’s got Nayeon in the passenger seat and is peeling out of your driveway like it’s on fire.

If rage had a physical human form, you would be it. Clenched jaw, a deadly weapon in your hands, and a white-hot fury in your eyes that promised to make those two regret crossing you.

The amount of junk food you have consumed in the last week would’ve sent your almond grandmother into an early grave. Your other friends had been visiting as often as possible to keep you from being alone in your thoughts for too long, offering to take you out or go shopping, yet the thought of possibly seeing either of those backstabbing fuckers in public made you sick to your stomach.

Pride didn’t allow you to cry, so instead of sadness and heartbreak, which you definitely felt but would never admit to, you felt pure seething fury.

“So I’ve been thinking,” You take a drag from the cherried slim between your fingers, exhaling towards the sky as you lean against the side of the pool.

From her spot on the lawn chair sunbathing, Belle says. “You can’t kill them.”

“I can, you’re just a party pooper.”

“The party should not include going to prison for murder.” Her statement makes you roll your eyes, “You aren’t built for prison, babe.”

“Well, that I can agree with,” You sigh, the water shifting around you as you turn to face her, arms resting on the edge, “but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.”

Pausing, you take one last drag from your cigarette before smothering it into the stone, “One of the things about him that pissed me off to no end was his temper, right?”

Remembering the many conversations and rants had and heard, Belle nods, “Mhm.”

“So what if I date someone I know will piss him off?”

“If that’s what you think will help you heal, then…” She trails off, and you groan.

“Why can’t you just say it’s an amazing idea?” 

“Girl…” Sighing, she asks, “I just don’t think a third party should be involved.”

“He already got one involved, so why can’t I?” 

Making a face that screams, well you’ve got a point, Belle then adds, “I think you should find someone who pisses him off but they should be aware of your plans. Don’t lead someone on.”

A cunning smile grows on your glossy lips, “I’m not.”

“Oh, so you already have someone in mind?” She gathers with a growing smile of disbelief, “Please tell me it isn’t one of his frat brothers.”

You grimace at the thought, “Ew, no. The only one of them remotely dateable is Wonbin and that’s meeting the bare minimum standards.”

Shrugging, Belle offers, “At least they're hot?”

“Hot does not equal dateable, plus I hardly believe any of them would date their friend’s ex anyway.” Shaking your head, you push yourself out of the pool and sit on the ledge to let yourself drip dry, “What about one of the lacrosse guys?”

“You say no to a frat boy but not a lacrosse player?” 

“I know, I know, but at least I have eyes on them instead of hoping they're being loyal in another city.” You put a hand above your eyes to block out the sun, “Me knowing the coach kind of helps, no?”

“If loyalty is your goal then good luck, bitch.” Belle snorts, sipping from the pink bendy straw sticking out of her Dr Pepper bottle, “Lacrosse players are mansluts.”

“I know that, but…” You push yourself to stand, grabbing the towel Belle holds out when she hears the sound of your feet leaving the water, her eyes still closed and covered by a pair of Prada sunglasses, “I have a few options.”

“The only, as you put it, ‘remotely dateable’-“ she emphasizes those two words with quotations using her perfectly manicured fingers, “-lacrosse players are Jay and Sunoo. Jay is taken and Sunoo friendzones every apretty girl he meets.”

“I don’t know, Jungwon’s cute.” You think aloud, placing a hand on your hip, “He’s just a tight ass.”

“And therefore undateable.” She finishes for you. “What about the baseball team?”

“Eunseok plays, I’m trying to not be reminded of him.”

Belle hums in acknowledgment, “Let me look at the Lacrosse team's insta.”

You pull the claw clip out of your hair as you wait, patting your body dry until she holds out her phone for you to look at. Taking it with your dry hand, you examine the team photo.

You recognize the majority of them, rolling your eyes at a few familiar ones before your eyes land on one particular member of the team you don’t recognize. “Who’s number 10?”

Handing it back, you walk over to the oversized Hall & Oates shirt you’d stolen from your brother’s room(he left a lot of his clothes when he moved out, something about ‘finding his style). You hear the tap of her nails on the screen a few times before she answers, “Some guy named Niki? Or Riki? He doesn’t have any posts on his profile but in the photos he’s tagged in he’s called either of those names.” She gasps, a cackle escaping her lips, “Some of these are his mom tagging him in baby photos, please come look!”

Leaning over, you peek at her screen, “Oh my god, I would die.” You can’t help but giggle as she scrolls, this woman’s Instagram is a gold mine of childhood photos of this guy. “Okay, I feel weird looking at his baby photos, show me the other ones he’s tagged in.”

“On it.” Belle affirms, “Let’s go inside, too.”

“Okay, so-“ Belle stands before a whiteboard, one that your stepdad used to use before upgrading his office to have a massive one mounted on the wall, a pink dry-erase marker uncapped in her hands as she looks down at her phone for reference. After a quick text to the group chat, a brief summary of your plan was explained when everyone got to your house, and it seemed that everyone was invested. “-are we all in attendance.”

Jongseob is eating cereal in the white tufted chair in the corner of your room, Eunchae is in the bean bag, and Bahiyyih is on the floor between them, lined up like a good audience. 

“We’re making a pros and cons list for Riki Nishimura,” Belle announces, writing his name on the whiteboard as ‘Niki’ between the two names, “feel free to interject when you have a pro or con to list.”

“Con,” Jongseob raises a finger with his mouth half full, swallowing before saying, “His nickname is stupid.”

“Opinions don’t count, stupid.” Eunchae rolls her eyes, earning the finger from the boy in the chair.

“But like, why is his nickname Niki?” Hiyyih asks, and Jongseon lets out a nearly intelligible ‘thank you!’.

“I assume it’s because there's another Riki on the team,” Belle guesses, and the three nod. You sip the Baja freeze you’d had them pick you up on the way to your house and hum.

“Make an ‘unsure’ column,” you instruct, and she does so, writing ‘nickname kinda dumb’ under it.

“Pro, he’s on the Lacrosse team so he’s fit,” Belle starts, writing it on the board under its labeled column.

“Con, he’s on the lacrosse team.”

A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.

“Pro, from the photos he’s tagged in and the team photo, he’s at least 6’.” Eunchae adds, Belle nods and writes ‘tall’.

“How can you tell?” Jongseob asks, and she rolls her eyes like his question is the most idiotic thing she’s ever heard.

“Because I pass Heeseung in the halls from 5th to 6th period and in these photos, this guy looks a little taller than him.” She explains, and you hold a hand up when Jongseob opens his mouth to insult her.

“Con, no instagram posts.”

“Pro, I just found a pic from Jake’s insta and I can see him in the back. He’s got abs.” (Thank you, Bahiyyih.)

By the time the sun has set, the whiteboard is packed, the pros heavily outweighing the cons. You had even searched the large group chat you were added into on Snap in freshman year full of girls you barely know who dated around and kept each other informed, and found his name zero times. 

“I think he’s the one.” You sigh.

Jongseob snorts, pulling the cherry soda vape from his lips and asking, “Why do you think Eunseok will hate him?”

“He hates Lacrosse guys ‘cause he didn’t make the team, I figured it would hit a soft spot.” You smile and shrug.

“Hold on, the plot thickens,” Bahiiyih announces, eyes on her phone screen. “Do you guys remember that guy Nayeon had a crush on in freshman year?”

A chorus of confirmation causes her to grin, “I’m pretty sure it was this guy.”

You push yourself off your bed to peek over her shoulder at record speed, “No fucking way. How do you know?”

“I backread in the group chat, and she sent a picture of him, look!” She turns her phone for everyone to see, and from the slightly blurry and oddly angled photo that she obviously tried to take secretly, you can certainly see a resemblance, “Am I hallucinating, or is that him?”

“No that definitely looks like him,” Belle agrees, turning her head to face you with her jaw slack and a look, “He’s the one.”

“How are we gonna convince him to fake date you, though?” Jongseob asks, and you roll your eyes.

“Leave the planning to those qualified, Seob.”

You, all things considered, would call yourself a professional at annoying men. From years of experience before your brother moved out, you learned every which way to annoy him, and more importantly, boys in general. You are also smart enough to understand that his best friend, Jungkook, is your ticket to getting closer to the lacrosse team, aka Riki, even if you have to deal with Jake’s flirting and Heeseung’s annoyingly beautiful smile, you will get through it purely out of spite. 

When you get to school extra early the day before the semester is set to start, parking your car and turning your sights to where you knew he took the team to practice in the mornings, and where you knew he would be even if he and your parents got back from New York just last night. “A hoe never gets cold.” You mumble the chant to yourself over and over as you turn off your car’s engine and the warm air stops blowing. 

You curse rather loudly when you open your door and are met with a frigid breeze that makes your body clench to preserve its warmth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

With your school bag on your shoulder and a thick white puffy jacket lined with fleece that keeps your torso warm, you speed walk toward the field, which the student parking lot happens to be in relative close proximity to. 

The sight of you approaching is enough to stop a good half of the players in their laps around the field, a typical start to Jungkook’s diabolical training regimen. The distraction you pose catches the man of the hour’s attention, and when he turns to face the source, he seems shockingly displeased. With a barked order to keep running thrown at the stopped players, he turns to you again and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Your lips part in dramatic offense, “You seem unhappy to see me and I don’t appreciate it.”

Rolling his eyes and pulling two hotpacks from his bag on the ground and handing them to you, he repeats, “What are you doing at school so early?”

Shrugging, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets and glance at the team, catching the eye of Sunoo and winking as he passes by. “I’m bored and single. What better way to spend my time than watching lacrosse players train in frozen hell?”

Jungkook’s face tells you he’s far less than impressed, and he seems at a loss for words. You decide to let him in on your plan, not seeing any harm in doing so.

“Okay, I’m trying to ruin Eunseok's day, every day, by reminding him I have a hotter, taller, and more athletically skilled boyfriend than he ever was or could be,” You start, “And I’m calling in a favor.”

“What favor? You don’t do shit—“

“Okay then, tell me more about him or I’ll tell my brother about what really happened to his Audi last Christmas.” The Audi in question had a large scuff on the back bumper that Jungkook had paid you three hundred dollars to take the blame for, which while your brother was upset, you knew he’d be far angrier if he knew the truth. Jungkook knew that too.

If the cold wasn’t already doing the job, you would say he lost all color in his face. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you take the moment of his speechless horror to take another glance at the team. 

When you meet the eyes of the familiar boy in a dark red hoodie with the number 10 on it you feel your face warm up involuntarily. Instinctively, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, something that’s never happened to you, and quickly turn back to the coach (not before catching sight of the slight tug at the corner of #10’s plump lips). “So?”

Jungkook sighs, “Which one?”

“Number 10.”

Immediately, the man shakes his head, “Nuh-uh.” At the raise of one of your eyebrows, he quickly explains, “He’s one of my best players, I don’t need him being distracted by my best friend’s kid sister.”

You roll your eyes, “If you have a better option for me, then please, do share.”

“What about Jungwon?” 

“Tight ass,” You say barely a breath later, eyes watching said player jog past, lingering on his backside as he moves away, “In more ways than one.”

“Okay, stop.” Jungkook says, disgust on his face, “What about Taehyun.”

“He’s Dr. Evil and Jungwon is his mini-me, they’re both so strict they’d never agree.”

He makes a face, point heard, before suggesting one last player in a last-ditch effort, “Jak—”

“If the name Jake Sim leaves your mouth I’m setting your Mercedes on fire.” 

His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs. 

“So, tell me about him.”

“Why don’t you go ask?”

You give him a look that read, don’t be fucking stupid.

“Ugh, fine. What do you wanna know?” Jungkook caves, blowing the whistle around his neck, signaling the team to start the next warmup, pushups. 

“What’s his favorite color?” You ask, obviously pulling his leg considering the grin on your face.

“Nishimura!” He immediately calls, and number 10 looks up from his position on the ground. You don’t look longer than a moment, your spine straightening up automatically when his eyes meet yours once again, “What’s your favorite color?”

You don’t look, but you can bet money that he probably looks confused considering your brother’s best friend tells him to ‘just answer the damn question’, and then you hear his voice. 

“Black.”

Fuck, this is bad. The little shit in you wants to say that black isn’t technically a color, that it’s the absence of such, but the thought of looking at him and saying something like that makes your palms go clammy and your heart beat out of your chest. His voice is deep, and with the exertion in it from the warmup, you think you might just have to throw yourself into an active volcano.

“Mine is green, coach!” 

“I didn’t ask, Huening.” Your lips flatten, your hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to giggle. Instinctively, you look at Kai, whose ears have gone red in embarrassment, and you take pity.

“I like green too, Kai.” You say loudly for him to hear, and his head perks up to look at you.

“I like blue!” Jake pipes in, all too eager to include himself.

“Nobody asked, Jake.” Jay grunts, on his hundredth push-up and losing patience.

Jungkook blows the whistle again, “Burpees.”

“You’re a monster.” You muse, watching the team lose all faith in a heavenly being as they do what he says. Every jump grants you the sight of rock-hard abs, so you're not really complaining. 

“Stop ogling the team, it’s gross.” Jungkook hisses, “What else do you want to know?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Type?”

He makes a face, “I don’t know. He’s a teenager, probably anything that breathes in his direction.” 

“Age?”

“Turned 18 in December, the team threw him a pizza party.”

“Beginning or end of December?” You ask quizzically.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook huffs, “Why does it matter?”

“I need to know if I’m dealing with a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Please, please, tell me he isn’t a Capricorn.”

“Jesus Christ…” Thinking about it, Jungkook answers, “I think it was in the first week?”

A sigh of relief leaves you, “Thank god. I cannot stand an earth sign.”

“I’m an earth sign.” 

“And it took me ages to forgive you for that.”

“Okay, go away.” Jungkook shakes his head, obviously annoyed and desperate to get rid of you.

“But I’m not—“

“Nishimura.” Dread fills you, and before you can stop him from opening his mouth again, number 10 stands up.

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Walk this one to her car.”

Confusion is etched on his pretty face, but he nods, jogging over as you curse at Jungkook quietly enough for him and the lord to hear but not the approaching lacrosse player.

When he stands just a few feet away, waiting for you to start walking with him, you turn to face him and feel a jolt in your stomach. He’s tall. 

You already knew this but seeing it with your eyes is a different experience than seeing photos of it. Get a grip, bitch.

Offering him a condescending smile, a defense mechanism to keep yourself from humiliating yourself by showing how affected you are, you shoot your brother’s friend the finger and begin to make your way off the field.

You pass Riki, not even sparing him a look as you do so, but listening to make sure he’s following. With his much longer legs, it isn’t long before he’s walking just slightly behind you, not at your side but close enough for you to sense his presence. When you make it to your car in what felt like awkward silence to you but was probably nothing to him, you heave a sigh of relief when she unlocks and you open the door. 

Not sitting yourself inside yet, despite the cold and the fact your body hurts from it, you turn to face him.

“This yours?” He asks. God, that voice again.

You hum in confirmation, “Her name is Manon.” 

“Nice name.” He compliments, and you tilt your head, looking between his eyes and glancing down to his mouth every so often. He swallows almost unnoticeably, “What’s yours?”

Resisting the urge to ask if he truly didn’t know, you conclude that would sound far too conceited, and tell him your name. 

He tries it out, and you can see the tip of his tongue flick across his teeth before he says, “I’m Riki.”

“I know.” You say shamelessly, “You can go back to practice, now.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the slight smirk that tugs at his lips is of annoyance, but with the way his eyes look down your face every other second, you know exactly what you’re doing. He blinks, turning his body slightly to walk away, “Yeah.”

You wait until his back is to you to slide into your driver’s seat, quickly pulling your phone out to text the group chat.

bitchqueen: guys this is bad

bitchqueen: he’s HOT

bitchqueen: i can’t do this 

Glancing back up to see if Riki left, you sigh in relief when he’s nowhere to be found. You look back down when your phone dings. bellenotdelphine: eunseok bought nayeon a van cleef bracelet

bitchqueen: okay bitches im back

myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations

Going back to school wasn’t so bad, or at least it isn’t as bad you thought it would be. You were the only licensed driver in your friend group, and as such you expected to have a full car every morning, picking up Belle first as she lived down the street, and then Jongseob and Eunchae, who grew up neighbors in a neighborhood you pass on the way to school. Bahiyyih usually gets a ride with her brother, though she does complain his truck still smells like the musky car freshener he spilled back when he got it.

After parking and putting on your shoes that you’d taken off because you hate driving with them on, you had Belle hand you your backpack from at her feet and the four of you exited the car into the frigid weather. “Jesus fuck, why is it so cold?”

Belle huddled by you as you sped walked to the school doors, where you finally took notice of the stares directed your way. Ignoring the staring was the easy part, having a freshman walk up to you and ask, “Hey, is it true you destroyed your boyfriend’s car with a crowbar?” was hard to avoid.

Belle seems ready to tell them to fuck off but you smile sweetly, “It was a fire poker, actually, and destroyed is a strong word. Also, who the fuck are you?”

You got in enough trouble with your parents when they found out, these people could at least get the facts right. When the 14 year old boy opens his mouth to answer, you make a face, “I don’t actually care.”

Ignoring that encounter, you would say it was a relatively normal day. AP classes already gave you packets and mounds of homework, but with the semester classes you took last year you only had 5 periods of the day before being allowed to go home, perks of being a senior, you guess. The fact almost every class you had was an AP class was a definite downside, though.

The only AP class you didn’t have happened to be Medical Microbiology, which you had dreaded to take but it was the same teacher you had last semester for A&P who loved you enough to exempt you from the final without you having to submit the form like everyone else, and luck was on your side it seemed because while you were seething to find that Nayeon was in your 5th period class, the sight of the seating chart and the name labeled next to yours made you decide to postpone ingesting whatever deadly chemical Mrs. Wilson had in her locked cabinet.

Nishimura, Riki

The short curly-haired woman seemed overjoyed to see you, of course, and like clockwork you handed her a small pink box containing her favored cookie from the shop down the road, earning yourself a nice sidehug. 

You know a way to a teacher's heart, which had made your high school experience better than most could imagine, though Mrs. Brooks from Pre-AP English freshman year was a cunt and you gave up on making her like you within the first month. Sitting down at your seat, which happened to be somewhat close to her desk, you were looking down at the packet she’d left stacked on the table by the door for students to take from as they came in when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Growing up with a brother gave you a good understanding of how boys worked, and when you saw no one in your periphery, you looked to the opposite side, seeing the familiar lacrosse player. You dread small talk, though when the late bell rings as he sits down, you thank the heavens you don’t have to. 

Moving your hair off your shoulder, you took a pink mechanical pencil from your matching pencil case as Mrs. Wilson started speaking.

“Hey.” He leans ever so closer, whispering to get your attention, “Can I borrow a pencil?”

The raised eyebrow you send his way makes his raise his own, and you roll your eyes, grabbing one of the orange ones you never used and handing it to him, when you notice his look between the two pencils, you say, “Can’t risk you taking one of my good ones.”

He rolls his eyes this time, but starts writing his name with it anyway. At first, he uses his right hand, but ten minutes into the lecture about the staining process, he switches hands.

It isn’t annoying until he starts intentionally brushing your elbow with his own, and you know it’s intentional because when the word you’re writing comes out jagged and you look at him, he has a smug look on his face while avoiding meeting your eyes, snickering softly when you erase the word you deemed too ugly to continue writing. You turn in your seat, facing away from him and rotating your paper with you as you cross one leg over the other, it was easier writing this way anyway.

With your new angle, you can see Nayeon glancing over every now and then in the corner of your eye. 

Now, to say your reputation wasn’t ruined but in fact reinforced by everyone finding out about what you did to Eunseok’s car, was a factual statement. You didn’t like the term ‘anger management issues’ which is what the therapist your mother made you see last year used to describe your behavior. 

In your humble opinion, Jaclyn Delvacchio deserved the bruise you left on her brow bone and is honestly lucky you didn’t get a good enough hit in before the history teacher pulled you off of her, maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut about Eunchae’s braces.

Then, there was Kaley Graham in your freshman year, a sophomore who told you to stay away from your then-situationship, Eunseok, to which you responded to her threats by grabbing her head and slamming her face into the window of an active classroom. You thought the photos of her face smashed against it were funny, the school and your suddenly-present father did not.

So really, you’re already labeled a crazy bitch, violent, ‘untameable’(as you'd heard uttered by boys you wouldn't touch with a twenty foot pole). You might as well act like it.

When the bell rings 45 minutes later, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally time to go home.

You don’t notice he’s waiting for you until you’ve gathered your things and taken your keys out. He leans against his desk, waiting for you with observant eyes that land on the key-fob in your hand before moving up to your eyes. “Free period?”

You nod, “as are the next two.”

He whistles low as the both of you walk out, “I didn’t get any free periods, you’re lucky.”

“Lacrosse?” You ask, and he nods with a small grimace.

“And I failed Chem last year, so I’ve got to take it again.” He sighs, “I’m not great with all the math.”

“AP?” You ask innocently, and he snorts.

“God no. Regular.” He states, raising a brow as he adds, “Did you take AP?”

You hum, nodding, “Yeah.”

“So, if I come to you with a radiation equation, would you help me?” He asks in a way that almost feels teasing.

“It’s called a nuclear equation, and I suppose I could be persuaded.” You stop in front of the double doors at the front of the school, and from how others are rushing through the halls you assume the bell is going to ring soon.

“Could I try to persuade you after lacrosse practice? I’m gonna be late for Chem.” He says, though his tone is anything but worried, just like the smirk on his face.

“There’s a cafe next to the nail salon down the road, I might be there when lacrosse practice is over.” You hint, before turning to leave without another word.

After texting the group chat about the plan to meet up with Riki after his practice ends, you felt good. Flirting came easy, especially when you wanted something, which obviously was the case with him, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact he was flirting back. 

hueningbarbie: damn u act fast

bitchqueen: i'm just a girl who knows what she wants and gets it ;)

hongchae: do you think he’ll agree?

bitchqueen: if he doesnt i think jake is my only other option

bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win

bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option

bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen

You sit in a worn out booth facing the big wall of windows lining the front of the hole-in-the-wall cafe. Part of you regrets choosing it considering Gloria, the old lady who always takes your order and brings you your food, seemed all too excited when you said you were waiting for a boy that wasn’t Eunseok. 

You try not to look up every time you see a car pull into the strip center of cafes and food joints, only glancing when you see a black Jeep pull into the parking spot next to your car, quickly acting like you weren’t looking when the familiar lacrosse player hopped out of it with wet hair and the same sweatshirt with his jersey number and name on it.

It isn’t until he slides into the booth across from yours that you look up from the menu you weren’t even reading, “How was practice?”

He sighs, leaning back into the booth and you feel his shoe brush yours, “Coach had me on offense,” he says, rubbing his side with a wince.

“Want some tiger balm?” You ask nonchalantly, reaching into your purse to pull out the small container of it you keep to help with the pain you get from looking down and taking notes, not to mention scrolling through social media, too.

He takes it with a whispered please, and you try not to watch as he moves his hand under his shirt to rub it in. Bahiyyih was right.

“Any drinks, mija?” Gloria appears beside your booth with a knowing look on her face as she looks between you two, “and you?”

“Dr Pepper, please.” You order with a smile, and she affectionately rubs your arm with a nod before looking at Riki, who repeats you.

When Gloria walks away to get the drinks, Riki seems curious, “I come here a lot.”

Nodding, he says, “I figured. What’s good, here?”

“Oh, everything is good. Do you recognize anything on the menu?” When he shakes his head, you try not to act offended, and say, “The enchiladas are really good, but if you’re picky I would get the tacos.”

“Mm, I’ll get an enchi-“ he struggles to mimic your pronunciation of the word, and you laugh quietly.

“Enchiladas?” You ask with a cheeky smile, and he scrunches his face up in shame, “It’s okay, it’s hard to say.”

“You’re good at it.” He states, not an opinion, a fact.

“I am.” You agree, and the smile on his face is enough to send your heart into your throat. Get. A. Grip. “Like I said, I come here a lot.”

“So, what do I have to do to persuade you to help me pass Chem?” He asks after Gloria sets down your drinks and takes your orders(sending you a hidden wink as she turns to walk into the kitchen), and you realize now's the time to bring up your plan.

“So, I actually have a proposition for you.” You admit, and he leans forward a little, curious to hear it. When you say it, albeit a slow and awkward version of what you intended to say as the nerves got the better of you because of that damn look in his eyes, you swear you almost see his face drop a little. 

“So you want to…fake date? To make your ex jealous.” He sounds unsure, and you quickly shake your head.

“Not jealous, I kinda just want to ruin his day...everyday.” You state, “I’m the crazy bitch, you’re the hot athlete. Match made in heaven, right?”

He seems to take the ‘hot’ comment well, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “So, what are the rules? If we’re dating, do we have to go all out or just spread the word?”

“Spreading the word only works for so long,” you say, pleased by his question, “Kissing is a bit much, especially since it’s only been a few weeks since I dumped him. If we move too fast everyone will think you’re my rebound. We should take it slow.”

“So…” he thinks for a second, “Holding hands?”

You hum in agreement, “Get me flowers, too.”

“What’s your favorite kind?” The question shouldn’t throw you off, but it hits you rather suddenly that you’d never been asked that by a guy, especially not Eunseok. 

“Lilies.” You say, “And baby’s breath.”

He nods, taking a mental note of that just as Gloria comes out with your food. The enchiladas were a win, he devoured them like he hadn’t eaten for years, though there was a pause in the process when he insisted on trying the salsa you had poured generously over your own food, which was far too spicy for him, to your delight.

You exchanged numbers outside of the restaurant after paying(he had picked up the bill before you could grab it), and as you were putting a name to his number, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

Laughing at the look on your face, he subtly motions behind you, and when you glance back you find about five girls no older than 16 piled into a Corolla and staring, but snapping their eyes away and hiding when you meet their gazes.

Turning back to him, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat when you see he’s already looking at you.

“Good catch.” You cough, ignoring the smug smirk growing in his face, “I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” He says, waiting for you to move away before he does, and you find yourself sucking in a deep breath and turning to get into your car.

“So he agreed?” Belle asks from the passenger seat of your car, “I told you, teenage boys are easy.”

You pull into your parking spot in the school lot, pulling down the ugly parking pass they make you hang from the rearview mirror that you always tuck back up when you leave because it's an eyesore, “We tried to work out the technicalities last night but I fell asleep on the phone.” 

Eunchae gasps as if scandalized, “You fell asleep on the phone with him? That’s so cute.”

You groan, “I know, it’s embarrassing!” Getting out of your car, you try to withhold a groan when you immediately spot Jake practically skipping over, a cheeky grin on his face. Shit.

You don’t hide your displeasure when he calls your name, shooting a giggling Belle the finger before turning to give him attention you know you’d regret, “You and Niki?”

“Is that any of your business?” 

He starts giggling, the grin on his face widening as he starts hopping around like an excited puppy, “No way! You gotta tell me how he fi—“

“Jake!” A girl from the cheer squad calls his name from across the courtyard, and he whirls around to wave with a flirty smile.

By the time he turns back to you, you’re already walking away with the girls. “We’re talking about it in 2nd!”

“No we’re not!” You call back, waving your hand dismissively. Eunchae snorts, hooking her arm with yours as the three of you walk through the entrance. Jongseob had come in early with his other friend group for club prep, so his presence is sorely missed. 

“Do you think he’ll get you flowers?” The junior on your arm asks, and you shrug.

“I mean, maybe.” Your answer makes Belle roll her eyes.

“Manifest it, or…” She stops in front of your 1st class of the day, ready to drop you off, and a grin overtakes her face, “Bitch.”

You step closer to see when she sees, and at your assigned seat is a bouquet of the same flowers you told Riki you liked, pink and white lilies with baby's breath sprinkled in. Habitually, you bite your lip to withhold the smile, sliding your arm out from Eunchae’s and walking in.

The girl who sits next to you, Hikaru, has an almost fox-like grin on her face as she sees you finally arrive. She says a few things that you hum in response to as you pluck the tiny folded card from between the blossoms, opening it and allowing Belle and Eunchae to peek over your shoulder to read it with you. “Shut up!” Belle practically squeals.

For: Pretty

“God.” You sigh, closing the note and grabbing the bouquet from Eunchae who had picked it up to smell them, “I wonder where he got these.”

“I don’t know but they look expensive.” Belle muses with a grin and you hum in agreement with a smile.

A text tone dings from your phone, a familiar one that makes you groan. When you look at your screen your jaw clenches and shifts.

spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.

You suspect your mom told him about how you get off early now, cursing the woman mentally as you send back a simple thumbs up to her ex-husband. 

Between 1st and 2nd period, you had put the bouquet in your car to avoid walking around with it, and you’re so very thankful you did with the annoying grin on Jake’s face as you sat across from him in College Algebra.

“You and Niki.” He repeats with a cheeky raise of his brows, his grin unaffected by the look of utter distaste on your face at his presence.

“What about Riki and me?” You ask monotonously, clearly unimpressed with the prompt.  

“You guys datin’?” He asks cheekily, clearly already aware that you went on a ‘date’, but wanting to hear it from you.

“If I say we went on a singular date will you leave me alone?” You ask with a sigh, using your knuckle to massage your temple.

Jake shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, “Not a chance.”

You groan softly as the bell rings, and the sigh of relief is quickly smothered with your hopes of escaping this period without having to answer a question as a familiar substitute walks in, Mr. Morrell, a nice old man who usually just lets everyone do their own thing. He’s your mortal enemy now, you’ve decided.

The moment he announces those wretched words, ‘free day’, your fate is sealed.

Jake is snickering like a freak, leaning over his desk as if you aren’t just a few feet away from him, “You and Riki.” He giggles, and you look at him as if he’s possessed and it disgusts you.

“Please, leave me alone.” You say with a bit more emotion than your last few words.

Jake is too busy giggling like a little girl to listen or even hear what you said, nearly cutting you off as he asks, “Where was your first date?” 

“The Mexican place next to the nail salon down the street.” You answer monotonously, just wanting to get it over with at this point.

“Did he pay? He paid.” Jake asks then nods to himself as he says the last statement.

“Yes, he paid.” 

“Ooo, did he kiss you? Nah, Niki’s way too pussy to do that—“

You cut him off with an invisible twitch of your brow, “He gave me a solid kiss on the cheek.”

It’s as if you’ve broken the already clearly leaking dam of pure giddy delight. He’s practically squealing with a breathy and high-pitched ‘naur way~’, whipping out his phone you assume to text their group chat. He’s bouncing in his seat, and you make a face as you pull your desk an inch away from his desk to stop feeling the movements.

You open your coloring book you bring with you to classes when you have no other work, you have other work but you’d rather not do that while Jake giggles and grills you.

The rest of the period is filled with him asking questions you either answer shortly or choose to not answer at all. (“Do you think he’s the one?”)

You of course could not see was that across the campus Riki was hiding his phone in his lap wanting to sink into a hole and die as Jake spams the team group chat like a live tweet of his, though strongly condemned by him, weirdly thorough interview like your barely started kind-of-relationship is his favorite sitcom.

“Thank you, lord.” you sigh as the bell rings, freeing you of your torment as you grab your gathered and organized bag to pull over your shoulder and hasten out of the classroom before Jake can get you. (Yes, like a boogeyman.)

It seems you can’t catch a break as you find out Park Sunghoon is in your 4th period. Park Sunghoon, jersey number 23, goalkeeper of the Decelis Demons. Also, you’ve decided, another mortal enemy. 

You don’t even know how you hadn’t noticed him all semester or the semester prior, given how awkwardly talkative he is. Sitting beside you with a cute but unsettling smile, holding out his hand like he was meeting a celebrity, which you weren’t exactly complaining about but the smile was weird. He was almost just as bad as Jake, if not worse simply because he freaked you out a bit. Seriously, why is someone so beautiful so fucking weird. His moles look like constellations but something about his vibes unsettle you.

It isn’t like you don’t have weird friends, you’ve watched Jongseob stuff fifty chile-coated gushers into his mouth purely because Eunchae told him he couldn’t. Weird usually isn’t the issue, except it is in this scenario. 

Escaping him and getting to go to your teacher’s aid period was like a shining of heaven’s pure light on you. You find yourself grading papers in the back of the classroom while your freshman-year Latin teacher plays Hercules in New York on the projector, a purple glitter pen in your hand as you go through the stack of exams.

“Hey,” one of the freshmen a cluster of desks away calls to you in a semi-hushed voice, halting the movement of your glitter pen and directing your attention to them, “your boyfriend’s waiting at the door.”

‘I don’t have a boyfriend’, parts your lips before you suddenly remember that Riki exists and halt before it can leave them. Looking to the closed door of the classroom, you find the boy in question peering through the small window in the door, and raise an inquisitive brow.

He only waves at you, a clear signal he wants you to come out and talk to him, part of you wonders why he knew where you were but memories of the phone call the night you both agreed on the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, exchanging school schedules and discussing preferences, come back to you and you nod lightly.

Mrs. B looks up from her laptop as you cap the glitter pen, “Don’t be gone too long.” 

Shooting her a smile and a small ‘yes ma’am, thank you’, you get up from the desk and shoot the snickering freshmen a weak glare as you walk to the door, opening it just enough to side step out of the room and shut it behind you.

“Hey.” is the first thing he says, his voice is deep despite its softness, mindful of the other classes going on in the language hall as well as the other teens clearly trying to get a good look at him as the door closes behind you.

You say it back just as softly, “Hey.”

He smiles just a bit, a boyish quirk of his lips that has your heart picking up, get a fucking grip, bitch. “I’m sorry about Jake and Sunghoon.”

The mention of them has you pressing your lips together with a nearly-sympathetic smile, “It’s okay.”

“No, they’re…a lot.” He chuckles softly, though his words are still genuine, “I don’t want you to get scared away.”

Something in your heart flutters, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a soft laugh that has his eyes darting to your smile. “Sunghoon was…weird, but I already knew that Jake’s a pest, so…”

He laughs at your words, head shaking slightly, “Still, I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s fine, really.” You say with a shake of your head. A student exits the Spanish class down the hall, pausing at the sight of you and Riki before walking in the direction of the bathrooms. 

Riki spares them little more than a brief glance over at the sound of the door shutting behind them before his gaze is back on you. God, why is he looking at me like that, you think just before he speaks again, “Do you bowl?”

The question catches you off guard, and you tilt your head and ask, “Like do I know how or do I do it often?”

“Both.”

“Kinda and no.” You answer, “Why?”

He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, your eyes darting to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the movements of his arm and a few veins are visible up his arm, “Some of the guys and I were going this weekend, I…figured I’d ask.” 

His words are finished with a bit of hesitance that you have little time to linger on as you question with a slight laugh, “Did they ask you to bring me?” 

You see a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears as his elbow drops yet his hand lingers on his trapezius, creating yet another visual that has you wanting to repeatedly slam your forehead into the wall beside you. He shakes his head slightly, “No, I, uh, wanted to bring you.”

The words are said with a soft laugh like he’s a bit embarrassed with himself, and you find your teeth catching your bottom lip to hold in the despicable grin that you know should not be growing on your face right now. You just broke up with your long-term boyfriend, wake up.

If Riki’s eyes dart to your lips, you don’t see it as you glance to the door of your class. “Then…yeah. I’ll come.” 

Your answer has his lips forming a pretty grin that he quickly covers up with a bite of his bottom lip and a nod, taking a step back as he prepares to leave, “Cool. I can pick you up, yeah?”

Yeah, you can. You nod, “Just text me.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you.” He finishes with another nod, and you giggle softly at his repetition. His eyes soften at the sound, another thing you don’t notice as you see the student returning from the bathrooms, glancing your way every so often as they approach the closed Spanish class door. 

Riki sees them too, and as they look over again, he leans down to press his lips to your cheek in a quick but sweet kiss, “See you next period.”

He shoots you a swift wink as he backs up again, and you put it together that he kissed you because of the third party in the hall. You exhale a soft response as he turns to jog off, clearly not meant to be gone from class as long as he has been, “Yeah.”

As soon as he turns the corner and you’re alone in the hall, you close your eyes for a long blink to bring yourself back to Earth. A soft curse leaves your lips as you turn back to the door to re-enter the Latin class, heart racing and hands slightly clammy. 

Clammy. 

The fact that a boy is making you feel so damn juvenile with the way you can’t help but react to his words and face and voice and eyes—

The walk to 5th period fills you with a sense of dread before you remember who else is in that class. Mrs. Wilson greets you happily as she sets up the activity for the day on the projector, which alerts you to the fact someone is standing by your seat who doesn’t belong there.

Riki has a look of confusion on his face as he looks up at Nayeon, clearly a bit confused by whatever is leaving her lips. The teacher’s greeting alerts the both of them to your presence in the doorway, where you paused at the sight of her. The corners of Riki’s lips quirk up at the sight of you, but Nayeon looks like she’s about to puke.

You don’t even speak. Something about the sight of pure panic in her eyes gives you a boost of serotonin but the fact that she’s standing in front of your ‘boyfriend's desk, speaking to him. Oh, you’re pissed. 

Yes, you are aware he isn’t actually your boyfriend and the two of you hadn’t even discussed publicly referring to each other as such, but the principle still stands. You want to punch her face.

Unfortunately, Mrs Wilson would be quite upset if you slammed Nayeon’s head into the whiteboard, and you like your teacher too much to debate starting a fight in her class. 

Your eyes follow Nayeon’s every move as she hastily removes her hands from where they were on his desk, avoiding your burning stare as she moves to her own seat. 

Walking to your desk, you smile at Riki as if what just happened has zero effect on you despite the burning fury in your gut, and sit down beside him. “Hey.”

Your soft greeting has him saying it in kind, shifting in his seat to lean back and see you better, “You know her?”

His question has you tilting your head in a faux innocence, “Mhm. Why?”

Riki has a slight knowing look on his face as he watches your reactions, “She had a lot to say about you.”

“What did she say?” You ask as if it’s a simple question, like you aren’t dying to know and anxiety isn’t clawing at your chest making it harder and harder to make your hands not shake. 

He shrugs with a purse of his lips, a slightly cheeky smile forms on his face as he asks, “You jealous?”

A scoff leaves your lips and your eyes roll before you can even think to hold the sass back, “Jealousy implies she’s better than me in some way.” You say with a defiant cross of your arms, “and she is not.”

“Then why’d you glare so hard?” He asks, clearly amused by both your words and body language.

You think, why did I not tell him about Nayeon?

The answer? Eunseok and Nayeon’s little affair had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit. Anxiety claws at you everytime you even imagine Nayeon interacting with Riki, and the fact that you just walked in on her saying something to him that your pride won’t allow you to ask him about just makes it all so much worse for you. 

The truth is that the irrational part of your brain, the one that often wins the battles against its more logical other half, made the thought of Riki knowing you were betrayed by your best friend all the more sickening to imagine. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. 

“I wasn’t glaring.” You argue, and Riki raises his brows as if to say ‘really?’ before he huffs softly in amusement and the bell rings.

“Yeah, you were.” He says with a lingering curiosity in his gaze before he looks to the board as Mrs Wilson starts class. Your first instinct is to argue, to be stubborn like you always are, but the lingering anxiety in your chest makes you want to never speak again just to find some kind of peace.

The entire time you take notes you aren’t truly absorbing any information, your brain is stuck on every possible thing that Nayeon could have said to him and how you’re gonna find out without directly asking either of them if possible.

You feel sick and he’s not even your real boyfriend.

Oh, fuck.

Between realizing you want Riki and remembering that you have to go to lunch with your father, you simply didn’t have enough time to achieve as much mental preparation as you’d like before lunch. The Italian restaurant you find yourself sitting inside with a menu in your manicured hands is a relatively ‘fancy’ establishment, at least if the $35 fettuccini alfredo was anything to go by.

Your dad is the one paying, so you aren’t all that mad about the prices considering the look in his eyes is enough to ruin your enjoyment of the basket of breadsticks between the two of you. If you thought it would make a dent in his bank account you’d order another plate of mozzarella sticks just to spend his money, but the satisfaction just wouldn’t be there. 

Punching his face might feel better.

“Am I gonna have to put you in anger management again?” His anger is hushed and composed, but the shift in his jaw and the patronizing look of disappointment on his face belied his composure. Always being hyper-aware of how people view him is one of the things you hate about your dad. His attitude takes a higher spot on the ‘Why You Hate Your Dad’ pyramid, though. 

“You can’t ‘put me’ anywhere.” You bite back as you dip the breadstick in your hand into the small bowl of marinara, “Eunseok deserved it.”

“You don’t get to decide what people deserve.” He argues, still so patronizing.

The feeling of being talked down to is one you're all too familiar with when it comes to your father. The man can’t accept his own faults, one of which being how shit of a father he was and is. You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your breadstick, half-drowning his words out with your own and the other half remembering every single thing coming from his lips to throw back in his face next time he cries about how you never reach out to him. 

“Eunseok is a smart and successful, young man. And you throw it all away for—“

Ah, you almost forgot how much more your father likes your ex than you. Offering him internships, a place at his firm when he graduates, none of which he’d ever even mentioned to you. You wouldn’t ever work for or with your father, but the fact he had never spoken a word about any chances to help you gain experience like he did your ex was as infuriating as it was unsurprising.

“I didn’t throw shit away.” You snap, “He cheated on me, you keep skimming over that detail, father.”

“I’m not skimming over it, it’s irrelavent.” He exhales, trying to calm his slightly raised voice, “And you know I hate it when you call me that..”

“Irrelevant? Oh, I’m sorry, should I have stayed with a boyfriend that sleeps with my best friend?” You scoff, sipping your Dr Pepper, “And if you wanted me to call you dad, you should've acted like one.”

“Hey.” He warns, yet you only roll your eyes. “Reaching out goes both ways—“

“I know you did not just say that to me.” 

“—and I am your father, so you speak to me with respect.” He finishes, voice raising slightly in frustration before he settles it back to a more composed volume.

“No.” You shake your head, “That’s not how shit works.”

“Yes,” He bites back sternly, “If you want me to keep funding your life you’ll—“

Normally, you let your father say whatever it is he wants to say, tell him you really don’t care what he thinks and then for about a month he doesn’t text you. Then it’s ‘I want to improve our relationship’ and ‘I feel like you’re drifting away’. Today was not a normal day, however.

“Then cut me off.” You say with a shrug, “You can’t hold that shit over my head like I ask for the money you send, which you only send because you know you’re a shit father and you feel guilty.”

He doesn't respond, his jaw shifting, so you continue. 

“And considering the fact that you are a cheater yourself, why the fuck would I listen to a word you say when it comes to my own love life?” You ask, not really caring that you aren’t exactly speaking quietly, “Eunseok deserved a fire poker to the face, and I used it on his car instead. Which is what Mom should have done when she found you with the nanny.”

“Quiet down, you’re making a scene.” He hisses, and you tilt your head and look around as if you give a single fuck. “I already took care of Eunseok’s car, which will be taken out of your allowance—“

Your eyes narrow at his words, “You paid to repair his car?”

Your father doesn’t skip a beat as he continues, “—Yes, I did. And you don’t get to throw the biggest mistake I’ve ever made back in my face—“

“Yes, I do.”

“—No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do.” You argue back stubbornly, continuing before he can speak over you again, “And you paid for Eunseok’s car, the same boy who fucked one of my best friends for months while actively dating me and you don’t see a single problem with that?”

“His parents were discussing pressing charges—“

“That’s when you tell them to go fuck themselves.” 

He sighs at your words, clearly sick of your temper (which you inherited from him), “You need to start handling your emotions better, you’re graduating this year.”

“I have literally witnessed you throw a chair in anger, get someone else to say that to me.” 

He seems ready to respond, when the waiter comes with the food, and you speak before he can, politely asking if you can get a to-go box for it instead. Your father doesn’t seem to have the guts to speak as the waiter glances between you both unsurely before nodding, “Of course.”

He takes the dish back and the moment he is out of ear-shot, your father says, “We aren’t done talking.”

“I am.” You shrug, clearly not willing or planning on sitting here any longer than you have to.

The waiter is back out with your to-go container wrapped in a bag that has mint-chocolates inside as well as a complimentary box of breadsticks that you’ll probably eat while crying your eyes out later. You ignore the stern orders from your father to sit back down, thanking the waiter with a polite smile and promptly walk out of the restaurant. 

The tears of frustration start falling the moment you’re in the safety of your car, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put the bag of food in the passenger seat and pull out of the parking lot, turning ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift all the up as you drive the highway back home. You ignore the texts from your father, as well as the calls.

You’re at the red light before turning into your neighborhood when Riki’s caller ID shows up on the screen of your console, and you debate even answering, but wipe your eyes and clear your throat as you press the green answer button, “Hello?” 

Your voice is more stable than you expected it to be, and Riki responds in kind, “Hey, I just got out of practice—you okay?”

“M’fine, what’s up?” You say with an attempt at a sneaky sniffle, the thought of him knowing you’re crying is too humiliating. Part of you is disappointed he somehow could tell that something was up. The other part of you, the vulnerable and hurt teenage girl with daddy issues and a yearning to be listened to and understood, begs to just break down. 

He doesn’t seem to buy it, you hear the sound of keys jingling and then a car door opening and shutting, then he’s speaking again, “You sure?”

The light turns green, and you finally turn into your neighborhood, “I’m fine.” It’s almost a snap, one you instantly regret as you quickly say, “Sorry, just—“

“It’s okay,” He assures, and you feel even more guilty, more tears threatening to fall as your bottom lip trembles again. You’re pulling into your driveway as he continues, “Wanna talk about it over lunch?”

“I just got lunch with my dad, actually,” You say with a soft, bitter laugh, voice wavering and a soft curse leaving your lips the moment it does, “Fuck, sorry, this is just weird.”

He seems a bit panicked by the way your voice only turns more tearfilled as you apologize, “Hey, don’t worry about it, seriously—“ There’s a sound like a knock on the other end, and you hear him whisper something like ‘go away’ before he’s continuing, “—sorry I teased you earlier today, I, uh, thought I made you mad so I was calling to make up for it.”

A soft sob leaves you as you laugh with it, “I’m not mad about that, but I did wanna talk about it,” You sniffle, “About Nayeon, I mean.”

“You don’t have to, I was just messing with you.” You can imagine him shaking his head slightly as he speaks, “She didn’t really say much, just asked if we were dating.”

“What’d you say?” You find yourself asking.

He hesitates before answering, “Yeah.”

It sends a weird hot jolt to your stomach and your worried lips turn into a girlish smile that you quickly wipe off your face, “That’s okay, y’know. I’m pretty sure my friends have been telling everyone you’re my boyfriend, so the whole ‘taking it slow’ shit is out the window.”

He chuckles on the other end and it flips your stomach like a fucking pancake, “Great, I’m not that type anyway.”

(There’s a feral voice in the back of your conscience that screeches like it’s a beast gnawing at the walls of its enclosure.)

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes shut like you’re trying to come back to Earth and not hang up out of pure flustered reflex. You force out a response, “Just means we have to make it more believably genuine.”

“What’s your plan, pretty girl?” 

Oh, you want to bang your head into the steering wheel. “Do you mind coming over? I wanna discuss it in person but I just got home.”

You jaw slackens in shock at your own words, looking into the rear view and mouthing at yourself; Bitch, what the fuck—

“Yeah, sure. What’s the address?” His response is so natural and unperturbed the catastrophizing your brain has done in the last second slips away and you silently scream.

A second later you respond like normal, “I’ll text it to you.”

“Okay, I’m on my way, then.”

When the two of you hang up after a few more words, you realize what you have done and quickly turn off your car, grabbing the food and your purse and hastening into the open garage, struggling with the doorknob and pressing the garage door button before entering. 

Your room isn’t messy, per say, but your duvet is covered in cat fur, and you don’t even know if Riki’s allergic to them or not. “Gus, can you move, please?” You ask your cat as you begin to pull the duvet off your bed but he remains unmoving on the end of your bed.

He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh. 

After taking too much time carefully moving the duvet from under your cat and hurriedly tossing it into the laundry room while grabbing your spare to put on the bed instead, the doorbell rings.

With one(at least three) last look in the mirror to check your appearance, still in the outfit you changed into for lunch with your dad, you open the large iron front door.

“Hi.” You greet softly with a slight smile, and Riki has one himself that almost looks shy.

He bites his bottom lip and says back, “Hi.”

As you let him in, you look down at the door handle, waiting for him to step inside before shutting it behind him.

As his eyes move to assess his surroundings with slow steps, you catch up to him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling his hand from his pocket as you tug him along toward your room with unhurried steps. He lets you, though you hear the chuckle under his breath.

“That’s Gus. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.” is the first thing that leaves your mouth as you pull him into your cleaned room(though you’ll have to un-ass your closet later), and he gasped softly.

The voice that comes out next is higher in pitch and softer as he hesitantly approaches your loafing cat, who sniffs his fingers for a second or two before headbutting them. You witness Riki practically melt as he coos at the feline that happily receives his pets.

“Wanna guess his full name?” You jest, and he hums, looking over at you curiously but not halting his petting of Gus. “Gazpacho.”

Riki looks elated by the information, grinning so prettily you want to use the vintage lotus lamp on your nightstand to beat your head against, and he softly goes back to cooing, “Hi, Gazpacho.”

A giggle laugh leaves your lips that you quickly cover with your mouth and a quick avert of your gaze, eyes landing on the whiteboard against your wall. The fucking whiteboard.

“Oh, fuck.” leaves your lips before you can stop yourself but you’re already moving to grab the object of your doom, “Don’t look, close your eyes.”

Your demands are met with pure boyish defiance, and his eyes follow your movement to your closet door, opening it just enough to toss the whiteboard inside and quickly shutting it. “You saw nothing.”

He slowly pulls away from Gus with a growing suspicious smirk, “I’m scared to ask.”

“It’s just a whiteboard, nothing of consequence written on it, or anything.” You say with a purse of your lips.

“A whiteboard?” He questions with a tilt of his head.

You nod, moving away from your shut closet door and taking the opportunity to change the subject, “My stepdad’s a physicist.”

“Ooh, that’s cool.” He says with a thumbs up, taking the moment to move his eyes around the room as he had been distracted by the cat, “This is a nice house.”

“Thank you,” You respond softly out of instinct, “My mom’s a big lawyer too, so….”

“Ah, right, I think Jake mentioned that once.” He nods, sitting in the bean bag(you’ll have to break the news to Eunchae later).

You hum, sitting on the edge of your bed beside Gus and petting him, “What do your parents do?”

He has a slightly shy grin on his face as he says, “They own a pretty big dance studio.”

“That’s super cool.” You compliment with a tilt of your head, “Do you dance?”

If you could audibly coo at the redness blooming on the tips of his ears as he nods slightly you would, but you settle with a giggle that has him squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, “I do, yeah.”

“I did ballroom for like, ten years.” 

It’s as if you’ve revealed a hidden treasure, and he asks, “Do you still know how?”

You immediately hold up a defiant hand, “I am not showing you, and it’s been years.”

He whines, hands moving to clasp pleadingly, “Aww, c’mon, I’ll take you to my family’s studio and show you mine.”

This piques your interest and you ask before you can think about it, tone playfully flirty, “Taking me to meet your parent’s so soon?”

He chuckles softly, voice still so low, “Like I said, I don’t like slow.”

It takes a few more minutes of pointless chatter(and many more flirty remarks that make you want to scream into your pillow) before you get to the core of your problems today; Nayeon.

“Okay, wait, so—she and your ex…were together?” He reiterates to better understand, and you nod, and he then asks, “In your house?”

“Why do you think I took the fire-poker to his car?” You shrug, and he has a half-grin on his face.

“I thought that rumor was exaggerated.” He admits, giving you an appreciative once over like he’s impressed, “You’ve got a temper, huh?”

“I’ve never overreacted in my life.” You say with a slight raise of your hands.

He nods with a slight smirk as if he absolutely believes you, “‘Course not.”

“Anyway, she had a major crush on you in freshman year, literally fantasized about your wedding and everything,” You blissfully expose, “And I already had my eyes on you so it all worked out.”

He nods with a hum and slight smirk, “I see, so I’m sweet revenge.”

“The sweetest.” You playfully flirt, and his eyes turn into shy crescents.

“So, who were your other options?” He asks after a few seconds to let the pink on his cheeks fade, and you grin.

“Jealous?” You mimic his tone from earlier in the day and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” The admission falls naturally from his lips and your gut flips, “Curious, too.”

“Jungkook didn’t want me to choose you.” You respond with a tight smile.

His eyes widen, “Coach knows?”

“He’s got an idea.” You respond with a slight shrug.

“Did he suggest anyone else?”

“Jungwon,” You answer easily, snickering softly when he groans and throws his head back, “but he’s a tight-ass, he’d never agree.”

Riki snorts, and with a shrug says, “You’re pretty, I think he’d come around.” Your raised brow has him quickly changing the subject with a curious tilt of his head, “You already had your eyes on me, though?”

His question is cheeky and paired with a matching grin that makes you roll your eyes and fight nervous giggles as you say, “I never said that.”

“Really? ’Cause I heard you say it.” He seems much too determined to not let you move on from the subject but your mother loves to compare you to a mule in regards to obstinance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug innocently.

He leans forward slightly in the beanbag, his elbows resting on his knees, and that grin of his only widens. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your words. You stand up, moving toward your desk under the guise of rearranging things that don’t need rearranging, mostly to avoid his knowing gaze.

Riki tilts his head, watching you with amusement. “You know, if you’re trying to throw me off, it’s not working.”

You glance over your shoulder, trying not to crack under the weight of his attention. “Throw you off from what? I’m just tidying.”

“Right. And I’m just here for the cat.”

“Good. Gus loves the attention,” you quip, folding your arms over your chest as you turn back to him.

“But I’m not done yet,” he says with mock seriousness, shifting in the beanbag like he’s settling in for the long haul. “What’s so bad about admitting you’ve been into me? I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself in a way that’s more playful than cocky, but you still roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck.

“Wow, humble too,” you shoot back, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.

“Hey, just stating facts. Can’t help it if you have great taste.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you squirm. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dipping lower, “you’re kind of making it obvious now.”

Your hands find your hips in defiance. “How, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he muses, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between you. “The way you got all flustered when I asked if you still know how to dance. Or how you won’t look me in the eye right now.”

You refuse to back down, lifting your chin as you meet his gaze. “I’m not flustered. And I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?”

He smirks, leaning just a little closer, his tone teasing. “Sure you are. But you’re still not answering my question.”

You blink innocently up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his eyes dart below your nose. “What question?”

Riki lets out a soft laugh, a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he shakes his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the proximity is starting to get to you.

He watches you for a moment, his smirk turning into something softer, though no less mischievous. “Alright, fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”

“Oh, how gracious of you.” Your sarcasm earns you a grin as he steps back and flops dramatically into the beanbag again, sprawling like he owns the place.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like get on my nerves,” you mutter, though the twitch of your lips gives you away.

“Same thing.” He winks, and you hate how charming he looks doing it.

The smirk he gives you as he leans back has your stomach doing somersaults, but you refuse to let him see you sweat. Instead, you turn your attention to Gus, pretending to be more interested in your cat than in the boy currently making himself at home in your life—and your head.

As Riki lounges back in the beanbag, his eyes drift lazily around the room again, lingering on the neatly arranged desk and the wall beyond. “You’ve got a pretty organized vibe for someone who just tossed a whiteboard into a closet like it was a bomb.”

You freeze mid-pet, your hand hovering above Gus’s head. “You’re still on about that?”

“I mean, it’s a whiteboard. What kind of secrets could it possibly hold?” His tone is teasing, but the glint in his eyes says he’s not letting it drop.

You debate lying, but the little smirk playing on his lips tells you he won’t believe you anyway. “Nothing important. Just… research.”

“Research.” He repeats with an arched brow, “Like, ‘solving world hunger’ research or me research?“

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I hate you.”

“Now I really have to see it.” He starts to rise, and you spring to your feet, blocking his path to the closet.

“Riki, no.”

“Riki, yes.” He steps closer, towering over you slightly, his grin widening as you try to stand your ground.

“Don’t make me sic Gus on you,” you warn, pointing toward the loafing cat.

“Gus and I are best friends now. He’d never betray me.” Riki gestures toward the cat, who yawns dramatically like he’s staying out of it.

“Traitor,” you mutter at Gus, which earns you a laugh from Riki.

“C’mon,” he cajoles, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly soft tone that makes your heart do weird flips. “What’s the worst that could happen if I see it?”

Your resolve wavers, but the idea of him actually reading the whiteboard is too mortifying, “I’ll have to kill you.”

His grin only widens at your threat, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Wow, straight to murder, huh? Didn’t realize you were so passionate about…whatever’s on that board.”

“You have no idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It doesn’t work. Riki’s grin turns smug, like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Now I really need to know.” He leans closer, and the proximity sends your heart into overdrive. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him as he tilts his head, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “What if it’s, like, a shrine to me or something?”

The gasp you let out is equal parts offense and panic. “You think way too highly of yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he teases, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. “I’ve heard people do wild things when they’ve got a crush.”

“Bold of you to assume—”

“You’re avoiding the question again.” He cuts you off, smirking as he steps back just enough to lean casually against the end of your bedframe, his arms crossed. “What’s on the whiteboard, really?”

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. There’s no way you’re admitting to the utterly ridiculous pros and cons list your friends talked you into. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s… study stuff,” you finally say, your tone lacking conviction. “School projects, maybe some physics equations. Boring things you wouldn’t care about.”

“Physics equations?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, because I look like the kind of guy who’d buy that excuse.”

“Hey, I’m trying here,” you snap, which only makes him chuckle again.

“I can tell. You’re terrible at it.” His grin softens slightly, the teasing replaced with something that feels a little too close to genuine. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me.”

You blink at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone but immediately suspicious of it. “Really?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, though there’s still a playful glint in his eyes. “But now I have leverage. You’ll owe me later.”

“Owe you for what?” you demand, but the smug look on his face says you won’t get an answer you like.

“For letting you off the hook, obviously.” He straightens and gives you a wink before heading back to the beanbag like he didn’t just upend your entire equilibrium. “Don’t worry—I’ll think of something good.”

You stare at him, your jaw slightly agape, as he makes himself comfortable again. Gus hops onto his lap, clearly picking sides, and Riki’s attention shifts back to your cat like nothing happened.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, though you can’t quite keep the fondness out of your voice.

He glances up, his smirk softening into a smile that’s entirely too charming. “And you love it.”

You hate that you do.

The week passes by with a dreadful speed, and after four whole days of anxiety-induced stomach aches, migraines, and a few breakdowns in the dark privacy of your room at midnight, it is the weekend. 

It is the weekend, and Belle, Hiyyih, and Eunchae bear witness to a minor crash-out.

“I’m gonna puke.” You mumble, sitting on the ottoman at the center of your walk-in closet with your face in your hands as the older two walk around you, going through your options for an outfit.

“Keep that shit in bitch,” Belle says without looking away from the clothes hanging in your closet, pointing a finger blindly at you in warning, “You puke, I puke.”

Eunchae moves towards your hunched form from her spot on your bean bag(which she moved into your closet to sit on), snickering softly as she sits beside you and brings her hand to rub circles on your back. “There, there.”

A part of you wants to snap at her that she isn’t funny, but the act is weirdly comforting so you let her continue. Bahiyyih speaks from where she is in front of your shoe shelf, “Why do you have so many shoes?”

“My mom gets sent them monthly by some guy she was a lawyer for a while ago,” You exhale as you drop your hands into your lap, eyes still closed as you contemplate opening them ever again, “She hates wearing pumps now so she gives them to me or regifts them.”

“What if you wear these?” Hiyyih holds up a pair of Louboutins, and you open your eyes to see before looking at her like she’s crazy.

“Not only is it bowling and I’m gonna have to change shoes anyway, but I’m not wearing a So Kate for something that isn’t even a date, Hiyyih.”

She pouts her bottom lip as she puts them down, and Belle pulls a top from the collection of them hanging in your closet and holds it up in question towards you. After a few seconds of staring at the article of clothing, debating if you remember looking cute in it or not, you nod and she tosses it into the ‘maybe’ pile. 

Two seconds later, you’re hunching over and blindly grabbing a pillow near you to scream into.

Eunchae pats your back again, her snickering turning into full-blown laughter. “Feel better now, drama queen?”

You lift your head just enough to glare at her over the pillow. “No.”

“Good,” Belle says, tossing another shirt into the ‘definitely not’ pile without even showing it to you. “Because if you puke or scream again, I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re being insufferable. She might take those Louboutins back.”

“That’s not funny,” you mumble into the pillow.

“It’s a little funny,” Hiyyih chimes in, holding up a sequined crop top like it’s the Holy Grail. “Okay, but seriously, what about this? It says ‘I’m fun,’ but not, like, too fun.”

Eunchae tilts her head at it. “It also says ‘I moonlight as a disco ball.’”

You groan, sitting up straight and snatching the crop top out of Hiyyih’s hands. “Why is this so hard? It’s bowling! I should just wear sweatpants and call it a day.”

Belle spins around with the precision of a K-drama villain. “Don’t you dare. Do you want to show up looking like his cousin who just rolled out of bed, or like the mysterious, unattainable enigma that you are?”

“Unattainable?” you ask with a hesitant furrow of you brows.

“Yeah, unattainable, as in: unattainable by anyone else but him,” Belle clarifies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re playing the long game, babe.”

“You say that like this is some kind of psychological warfare,” you deadpan.

Belle shrugs. “It kind of is.”

Eunchae raises a hand like she’s in class. “But what if he’s bad at bowling? Like, gutter ball after gutter ball bad? Do you let him win or destroy him?”

You pause, genuinely considering it. “Destroy him, obviously.”

“Bold choice.” Hiyyih nods approvingly, tossing a pleated skirt into the maybe pile. “What if you’re bad, though?”

You gasp. “That’s not even an option.”

Belle smirks. “So confident for someone who hasn’t touched a bowling ball since middle school.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me, not roasting me!” You grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her. She dodges with ease, laughing as it smacks into the closet door behind her.

“Roasting you is my way of helping you,” Belle retorts, unfazed. “It’s called multitasking.”

Eunchae picks up the discarded pillow and hands it back to you, patting your head like you’re a distressed pet. “There, there. At least you’ll look cute while you embarrass yourself.”

“Why are all of you like this?” You drop your head back into your hands, half tempted to cancel the whole thing.

“Because we love you,” Belle sing-songs, pulling out a denim jacket that you forgot you even owned. “Now shut up and try this on. We’re on a schedule, ho.”

You sigh, begrudgingly taking the jacket as the three of them continue their chaotic brainstorming session around you. It’s not helpful in the slightest, but somehow, it makes you feel a little less like throwing up again.

By some miracle—or maybe just the collective force of Belle’s bullying, Eunchae’s comfort, and Hiyyih’s endless suggestions—you finally land on an outfit. The moment you pull the halter top over your head, the three of them fall silent, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one.

“Okay, that’s cute,” Belle finally declares, hands on her hips like she personally designed the top. “It’s giving effortless, but still hot enough to make him sweat.”

“It’s super cute on you,” Hiyyih chimes in, tilting her head as she appraises the outfit.

“It is,” Eunchae adds, grinning as she slides off the bean bag to circle you.

The cropped halter top clings just right, the rich color complementing your skin tone and making you feel…hot. Paired with the baggy jeans that sit low on your hips, the whole look is casual, but not too casual. You glance at the mirror, adjusting the jeans slightly and eyeing the way they pool at the hems over your socked feet.

“Am I pulling this off?” you ask hesitantly, smoothing the fabric of the top.

Belle snorts. “If he’s not staring, I’ll be personally offended on your behalf.”

Eunchae pretends to swoon dramatically, throwing herself back onto the bean bag. “The mysterious unattainable enigma strikes again.”

“Okay, but shoes,” Hiyyih cuts in, crouching by the pile of options at your feet. “You’re wearing sneakers, obviously, but which ones? The Nikes or the New Balances?”

You glance down, debating for a moment before pointing to the Nikes. “They’re cleaner.”

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Barely. When was the last time you cleaned your shoes?”

You glare at her, picking up a sneaker and threatening to launch it her way. She holds up her hands in mock surrender, moving to pull a jacket from the rack as she says, “Make sure you bring a jacket, though. It’s cold as shit.”

“Or she can not bring one and Riki can lend her his.” Eunchae suggests with a cheeky grin.

Belle promptly tosses the jacket into the back of your closet.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The nerves are still there, bubbling under the surface, but with your friends around—and an outfit that actually makes you feel cute—you start to think that maybe, just maybe, tonight won’t be a complete disaster.

riki 🙈: im here

“We’re seeing you off,” Belle declares, handing you the Prada bag she just stuffed your lip combo into. Hiyyih trails behind her, spritzing your neck and wrists with your favorite perfume.

The dread must be plastered all over your face because Eunchae immediately starts snickering from where she’s leaning against the doorframe. “We just wanna see his reaction.”

“To me or to you guys making kissy faces at him from the porch?” you deadpan.

The chorus of giggles that erupts from your three friends is all the answer you need.

“Oh, come on,” Belle says, looping her arm through yours as she drags you toward the front door. “We’ll behave.”

“You behaving is a scientific impossibility,” you mutter, trying to resist, but she’s got the strength of someone fully committed to the bit.

“Hold on,” Eunchae pulls something out of her hoodie pocket she must’ve forgotten was there until just now, uncapping the small bottle and holding it in front of your lips, “Open.”

You obey with a slight furrow of your brows, and she sprays it into your mouth, giggling when you flinch slightly in surprise and grimace at the strong mint taste. Eunchae grins, unzipping the bag on your shoulder just enough to slip it in before closing it, “To prevent food breath.”

The moment Belle opens the front door, your breath catches at the sight of Riki leaning casually against the passenger side of his Wrangler, hands tucked into his pockets. The golden light of the setting sun highlights the faint smirk on his face, his jewelry glinting as he shifts.

"Lord have mercy," you mutter under your breath.

You didn't expect him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but you weren't prepared for this either. The necklaces layering his collarbones and the glint of piercings--does he have an eyebrow piercing?—are almost too much. You quickly shove down the spiral threatening to start and glance back at the three traitorous girls behind you.

Their kissy faces drop immediately, though Eunchae barely suppresses her laughter. 

With a playful shove to Hiyyih—who stumbles into the porch pillar but resumes her antics without missing a beat—you flip them all a perfectly manicured middle finger and step off the porch.

As you walk toward him, you swear the faintest blush tinges his ears. He waves briefly at your friends before straightening and meeting your gaze.

"You look good," he says, voice low and easy.

"I know." Your response is swift and confident, though the smile on your face is warmer than intended.

The moment is interrupted when the backseat window of his car rolls down, and Jake's grinning face is revealed. Your smile drops.

"Why is Jake in your car?" you deadpan, your smile dropping.

Riki groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Dude, I told you not to be weird."

Jake looks offended. "I didn't even say anything!"

"Seeing your face is enough," you reply flatly. Jake pouts dramatically while you shoot Riki an accusatory glare. "You could've warned me."

"If I did, you would've come out frowning," Riki whines playfully. "You have such a pretty smile."

From the backseat, Jake's obnoxious "ooooh" echoes, accompanied by giggles that make Riki's blush spread down his neck. Still, he keeps his composure enough to open the passenger door for you.

"What a gentleman~," Belle teases loudly from the porch.

Eunchae waves at you, practically bouncing with glee. You shoot Belle a glare, mouthing "kill yourself" as you accept Riki's hand and climb into his lifted car.

"Bye, Manchae," you call, snapping your attention away from him as he closes the door. You're too aware of his cologne and the lingering warmth of his hand. He looks way too good.

Riki salutes your friends playfully before circling to his door. Through Jake's open window, you hear Hiyyih shout, "She likes Dr Pepper!”

"And winning!" Eunchae adds.

"And tongue," Belle finishes just before the window rolls up.

You cringe. Riki's amused laugh is confirmation he definitely heard that. "I hate her so much," you mutter, pulling the sun visor down to touch up your lip gloss to dostract yourself.

You're halfway through the motion when you notice Riki hasn't started driving yet. Turning, you catch him just as he’s looking back at the road, his hand on the gear shift. (There’s something attractive about the fact he drives stick.)

Jake's giggle breaks the silence. "Oh, shut up, Jake," you snap, not necessarily to defend Riki—though it only makes Jake laugh harder. “Why couldn't your other friends bring him?" you grumble, swiping the gloss over your bottom lip.

"He's my neighbor," Jake says cheekily.

"I would've made him walk," you reply, clicking the gloss shut and shoving it back into your bag. "Or Uber."

"That's just cruel," Jake protests, but you shrug.

"Sucks."

Riki snickers and nods. "Okay, he'll Uber next time."

Jake looks appalled. "Bro."

"You're annoying me too," Riki replies, barely glancing back as he rests his hand lazily on the gear shift.

You pointedly ignore the way his rolled-up sleeves expose a line of muscle up his forearm, a vein standing out as he moves to grab his phone charger. "Play your music," he says, holding the cord out to you.

Jake gapes. "Bro, you never let us play our music."

"That's because you guys have shit taste," Riki says without hesitation.

Your lips twitch, a sliver of pride blooming in your chest.

You connect your phone, Sabrina Carpenter's Taste filtering through the speakers. Jake perks up. "Oh, I actually like this song."

"You better," you reply, humming along as the music plays.

Riki bobs his head lightly to the beat, his usual laid-back energy soothing you as the drive continues.

"Who else is bowling with us?" you ask, turning the music down slightly.

"Jay, his girlfriend, and Heeseung," Riki answers casually.

You hum in understanding and turn the volume back up, inhaling the soft musk of his cologne mingling with your perfume. The scent is annoyingly pleasant, calming in its own way.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot and finds a good spot, the sky has dimmed to a deep navy. Riki is out of his seat in a flash, jogging around to open your door before Jake even unbuckles himself. His hand lingers on yours as he helps you down, his fingers interlocking with yours naturally.

Jake trails behind you two as Riki leads you toward the neon-lit entrance, the muffled sounds of bowling balls and laughter drifting through the glass doors. 

Jay, a pretty girl you are pretty sure was in your art class in freshman year, and Heeseung are standing near the entrance, and you wish you could hide behind Riki from their gazes that immediately find your intertwined hands.

You send a smile to the only other girl reflexively, and she sends the prettiest one back. She grins excitedly as the three of them meet your trio halfway once you enter the door that Riki holds open for you to enter first. 

(You wonder if these are manners his sisters and mother taught him or a previous girlfriend—wait, no you don’t.)

“I told you it was her!” She smacks Jay’s arm, and he winces with a soft laugh, clearly used to his girlfriend’s antics. Her approach is welcomed as she explains, “He was saying Riki was lying.” 

“About?” You question curiously, an easy smile on your glossy lips.

She giggles as she answers, “You being his girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Riki says lowly, clearly embarrassed by the subject as you snicker at his misfortune.

“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” The girl states with a giggle as she pulls you from Riki with her elbow hooked with yours, and you barely glance back at your ‘boyfriend’, who’s being patted on the shoulder by Jay. “They’ll handle paying for everything, let’s get some snacks.”

“Oh, okay.” You say softly before smiling with her, delighted that she brought up food before you had to ask Riki about it. You aren’t ashamed of eating, or shy about doing so in front of him, but having another girl who also seems to prioritize food was immensely comforting to the anxiety in your gut. 

She grins as the two of you step into line at the concession counter, “I’m also glad I got you away from the boys for a second, they’re so…”

“Boyish?” You finish, and she laughs softly.

“Yeah.”

“Girl to girl,” You start, moving up in line with her, “I don’t think I’m gonna be good at bowling.” 

She gasps joyfully, “I suck!”

You laugh at her clear excitement that she’s finally not alone in that aspect, “But that means the boys are better than us.”

She rolls her eyes at the mention of them, “Riki and Heeseung are the really good bowlers,” There’s one more person between you two and the counter now, “I love my boyfriend, but he and Jake suck compared to those two.”

“I don’t want to lose to Jake.” You sigh, “It just doesn't seem ethical.”

“Riki’ll handle him.” She snickers softly, “You should've seen him at practice when Jake and Hoon messed with you.”

Your interest is piqued, but the person in front of you finishes paying for their food and you are forced to put your questions aside as she begins ordering and you realize you don’t even know what you want. 

You’re skimming over the menu above when your phone dings in your purse.

riki 🙈: what size shoe do u wear?

Quickly typing an answer, you glance between your phone and the menu, and Gaeul turns to you, waiting for you to add to the already sizable order with how much the four athletes can eat. “Oh, I can pay for myself—“

“Riki already venmoed me enough to spot you,” She interjects with a soft giggle, and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Oh,” You let out before shaking your head and looking at the waiting cashier, “A large drink and a basket of cheese fries, please.”

Gaeul hands you the stack of cups she’s handed, and you startle slightly when a hand and arm appear in your vision, plucking the cups from your hand. When you look over your shoulder you find a smirking Riki, “I got this. Go sit.” 

You huff softly, fighting your smile that threatens to grow even wider, “I can fill up my own drink.”

“I know, but I wanna do it.” He states with a nod like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you can’t do much more than glare weakly. He only chuckles softly as Gaeul finishes paying and realizes he’s with you, “Go. Dr Pepper, right?.”

You look away from his cheeky smirk with a shift of your jaw, and you lose the fight against the grin now on your face, “I hate you.”

He only huffs softly in amusement as you walk away with your arms crossed, making your way to where you spot Heeseung’s orange hair. There’s a pair of green bowling shoes beside another bigger pair that are red placed on the bench seating, and Jake has a grin on his face the moment you sit down to put them on.

“I am not above hitting you in the head with a bowling ball, Jake.” You say as you pull the white sneakers off your feet to put on the bowling shoes, not even soaring the Australian boy a glance as his mouth shuts, clearly rethinking speaking.

Heeseung snorts, “Shit, you are violent.”

You look up from your bowling shoes at the Lacrosse captain, who’s grin drops and he quickly looks away, acting like he wasn’t just laughing. Jay shakes his head with a laugh, “Thank you, for shutting them up.”

You give him a smile with a scrunch of your nose, “My pleasure.”

The moment Riki and Gaeul return, you’ve barely gotten your shoes tied. You’re still shooting looks at Jake, who’s pretending to look anywhere but at you while Jay wheezes softly into his hand. Riki raises a brow, setting a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. “What happened now?”

“She threatened Jake’s life with a bowling ball,” Heeseung informs him with amusement still clear on his face.

Riki pauses mid-sip of his drink, glancing at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Already? We haven’t even started the game yet.”

You shrug innocently, tugging the laces on your bowling shoes tighter. “He looked like he deserved it.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jake argues with a whine, and you roll your eyes.

“You had that stupid look on your face.”

“Not defending him, but that’s just what Jake looks like.” Jay interjects with a finger raised to make a point, and Gaeul smacks his hand lightly with a disapproving shake of her head despite her snickering.

Riki sits beside you, handing you a large cup full of what you assume is Dr Pepper that you immediately taste to prove your theory, humming happily and smiling as you thank him. His smile mirrors yours as he begins to put on his own bowling shoes, and you grab your purse, which you had initially placed to your left, from between the two of you to place it elsewhere.

“Here,” He says softly, grabbing your purse from you to put on his other side with his jacket, which he had shed at some point between entering the building and sitting down, and you mutter a soft ‘oh, thank you’ that has his soft smirk widening just a bit before he focuses back on tying his shoes.

You’re somewhat thankful that they seemed to have agreed on teams instead of each of you having your own scoreboard, though seeing every ‘x’ between your ‘5’ points was embarrassing enough. 

Gaeul seems wholly entertained by the gutter ball she just achieved as you cheer for her from your seat between Riki and Heeseung, too distracted by the fun of the game to see the goosebumps on your arms. You’re leaning forward to pluck a fry from the basket of them on the table when you feel a warm something draped over your shoulders. 

Riki is standing for his turn before you can even react, but across the table Gaeul turns to hide her face in Jay’s shoulder to poorly muffle the high pitched squeal she lets out. You ignore the heat rising up your neck, catching the fry between your teeth to slip your arms into the jacket sleeves.

Jay and Gaeul seem to be the only team playing purely for fun, because Jake and Heeseung are neck and neck with you and Riki on the scoreboard and your ‘boyfriend’ looks less than pleased about it. 

It’s near the last round when Jake scores a miraculous nine points that you mentally prepare to accept defeat, looking up at Riki who had just gotten back with your refilled cup, “Horrible news.”

He raises his brows, looking at the scoreboard and cursing under his breath. It’s your final turn, and while you hadn’t completely embarrassed yourself with your subpar bowling skills you probably weren’t good enough or lucky enough to score anything higher than six points. At the moment, HeeJake is in first place.

Gaeul is cheering you on with her back against Jay’s chest, and Riki leans down, resting a hand on the edge of the table beside you, his face just close enough to make your heart race. “No pressure,” he says softly, smirking. “But if you lose, we’re never hearing the end of it.”

You roll your eyes, trying to act unimpressed. “Great pep talk. Truly inspiring.”

He snickers softly, straightening back up as you stand with dread clear on your pretty face. Heeseung pipes up, “Give her a good luck kiss, Romeo.” The glare you shoot the Lacrosse captain only makes him snicker with his hands held up in mock-surrender, “Was just a suggestion.”

The feigned smile you give him has your fake boyfriend plucking your drink from your hands (how did he knew you had an urge to throw it at Heeseung’s face, you’ll never know), and his hands move to your shoulders to walk with you to edge of the lane to grab a pink 7lb bowling ball.

Riki’s grip on your shoulders lingers, and he leans down slightly to murmur near your ear, “Just—aim in the middle.”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a withering look, choosing to ignore his proximity, “Like that isn’t what I’ve been doing.”

“Could've fooled me—ow! Okay, okay,” He’s still laughing despite rubbing his chest where your punch landed, much too cheeky for your liking but his smile is too…something for you to want to wipe it off his face, “You’re better than Jake.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, but it’s hard to ignore the encouragement in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you grip the heavy pink ball tightly, positioning it at your waist. Riki steps back, hands on his hips, his smirk still in place.

“Alright, show us what you’ve got, baby.”

“Oh, shut up.” You grumble softly, shooing him away to get his heart-fluttering grin out of your face, and as you pull his oversized sleeves up your arm to keep it from getting in the way you give yourself a mental pep talk.

Don’t lose, bitch.

It doesn’t help that your nails make putting your fingers in the three designated holes a struggle, and the moment the ball is released into the lane, veering left toward the gutter before God herself takes control and it curves back toward the center and slams into the center pin, you cover your face.

Strike!

Gaeul practically shrieks in excitement as the pins scatter, “Yes, girl!”

You blink, lashes fluttering as you process the cheering as well as groans from Jake, and you gasp, “Holy shit!”

Riki’s joyous laughter is infectious and warm, and you let out a soft shriek that fades into giggles as his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you off your feet in a hug, “Hell yeah, baby!” 

The moment your feet are back on the ground, Gaeul is before you with her hands up for high fives, practically bouncing in excitement for you. It’s practically second nature to you as you match her energy, too high on your miraculous win to notice Riki’s hands lingering on your waist.

Another thing you fail to notice in your moment of joy is a familiar couple just a few lanes over, one party too distracted by the ruckus to pay any attention to the game her boyfriend and his friends dragged her to join.

She watches you smile and laugh as Riki helps you out of your bowling shoes, and her eyes follow you as you walk toward the restrooms with the light blue Prada bag she had always wished you would give her. It isn‘t fair.

You sigh softly as you place your bag on the sink in front of you, unzipping it to grab your lip combo to touch up in the mirror before going back out. As you uncap your lipliner with a muffled click, you hear the bathroom door open but don’t think much of it at the moment.

It isn’t until you look into the mirror, leaning forward slightly to see your lips better, that you see who it is.

“Can I help you?” You ask her reflection with a tilt of your head, tone less confrontational than it should be, but you’re trying to keep your good mood and Nayeon’s face is threatening to ruin it.

She scoffs softly, yet keeps a safe distance, “Do you even like him?”

You look away from the mirror to really look at her, ignoring the satisfaction that her slight flinch brings you, “Excuse me?”

“You moved on fast.” Nayeon states, and you scoff with a smile of both fury and amusement at her audacity, “Is it even real, or did you use daddy’s money to get him to date you?”

The tilt of your head should have been a sign for her to shut her mouth, but she continues when you don’t respond like usual, “But I guess moving from one guy to another is just like you.”

She’s just trying to rile you up, it’s obvious. 

You shake your head with a soft and bitter laugh, looking back at the mirror to continue what you had intended to do, the lip pencil gliding over the edges of your lips and the pad of your ring finger blending the harsh edges. 

Her jaw shifts in the reflection as you cap your lip-liner and exchange it for your lip gloss, and you send her a condescending smile, “You done?”

“You bitch—“ Her words are cut off by another person entering the bathroom, and as you swipe the gloss over your lips, you pause when you see it’s Gaeul.

She glances at Nayeon, but her main focus is on you as she says, “Ready to go?”

You hide your confusion at her question with a pretty smile, closing your gloss and stuffing it back into your bag before you walk to her, shoulder checking the audacious bitch on your way out, “Yep.” 

Gaeul’s arm hooks at your elbow as you both exit the bathroom, and you sigh in relief at being out of that situation before you remember your prior confusion and she explains without you needing to ask, “Your ex is at our table antagonizing Riki, I figured if he’s here she would be too.” 

Your brows furrow and you quickly pick up the pace of your stride with fury souring your mood once again. When you turn the corner, your gaze zeroes in on Riki, who’s leaning back in his seat seemingly unbothered by whatever it is that Eunseok is saying to him, and Nayeon hastens past you to join her boyfriend’s side.

Eunseok’s eyes land on you the moment his girlfriend puts herself on his arm, and they follow you as you approach Riki without even a glance his way until he speaks, “You move on fast.” He snorts, soft and bitter, “Didn’t expect you to open your legs so fast considering how long it took you to put out.”

You ignore him, though the anger in your gut is boiling hot as your gaze moves to Riki, who you find is already standing now, his jaw shifting yet no other sign in his body language that he’s as pissed as his narrowed eyes say he is. Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all watch, though from their body language you can tell they’re not exactly about to stand by if your ‘boyfriend’ decides to throw a well-deserved punch.

His gaze moves to yours the moment your hand finds his, softening as your fingers intertwine with his and you mutter, “Let’s go.”

He nods wordlessly, his willingness only pissing Eunseok off more as he laughs mockingly, and you feel Riki’s hand tighten around yours, “Already got him trained, huh? He like how mean you are?” 

“I do, yeah.” Riki responds for you with a smug smirk, “She’s got a hell of a bite.”

The second meaning to his words isn’t lost on you, and you find the way Eunseok bristles at the comment amusing enough to not get mad at Riki for it later considering the two of you obviously hadn't done more than hold hands. (You hear Jake choke on his drink, too.)

“Bro, it’s your turn!” Calls a familiar male across the bowling alley, Sohee. 

You take the moment of brief distraction to shoot a pointed look at Jake, who gets up from his seat to play peacemaker with Heeseung.

Jay seems to motion for Riki to leave while they’re distracted by the two, and you shoot Gaeul an apologetic glance that she receives with a shake of her head and a look that reads ‘don’t be sorry’ as Riki leads you out of the building.

The moment the frigid air hits you, you tug the sleeves of his jacket down your arms again and shiver slightly. “He’s such a dick.” You sigh softly, “I’m sorry.”

Riki shakes his head as the two of you stop just a few paces outside the entrance, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to rub at your arms to help you warm up, and the sight of both of your breaths visible in the cold has you moving to take his jacket off to give to him, but his hands cover yours the moment they start pulling at the open zipper. “I’m okay.”

“Riki, it’s cold as shit.”

“All the more reason for you to keep the jacket.” He argues back with a soft smirk, “Really, I practice in the cold every day.” 

“You’re active, then. Not standing around,” You fuss, and he tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement before a cheeky smirk grows on his face.

“‘You worried about me, pretty girl?”

“Oh, stop it.” You groan with a poorly concealed warm laugh, and he catches your hands as you weakly swat at his chest, pulling you closer. “Riki.”

Your soft mutter of his name has his eyes shutting and his head falling back with a soft groan escaping his lips, “You’re so mean, baby.”

“It isn’t fair to you.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your statement, shaking his head and leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

“Just a kiss.” He pleas softly, his nose brushing yours and you inhale sharply, “Just one.”

His words flip your stomach inside out, and as you sigh his name again he leans in.

“Oh shit!” The sudden exclamation has you and Riki both startling away from each other, Jake grinning like a maniac at the doors with Heeseung, Jay, and Gaeul behind him. “Fuck, did I just ruin a moment?”

You groan, turning away from them to begin walking to Riki’s Jeep, arms crossed to protect yourself from the cold and your mind in utter shambles because—

What the fuck?

Jake gets a ride from Heeseung home according to Riki, who had unlocked his car for you to get in while he said goodbye to the others. A part of you regrets not saying goodbye to Gaeul, but the thought of spending another second under their gaze at that moment felt suffocating.

The silence in the car is loud. Not awkward loud, but loud enough that every glance out the window and every shift in your seat feels amplified. Riki’s hands stay firmly on the wheel, his fingers drumming against the edge of the leather cover as he fiddles with the turn signal.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but slightly strained, “you’ve got a mean bowling game for someone who swore they’d lose.”

You glance at him, catching the way the passing streetlights make his jawline look sharper. “That’s because I hustle. Low expectations are a great strategy.”

He huffs a small laugh, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You lean back against the seat, trying to ignore the fact that your heart still hasn’t settled since that moment at the alley—the one where his face was too close, his breath too warm, and you almost forgot this whole thing was fake.

“So… next time?” you tease, arching a brow. “How much more mortifying teasing can you handle?”

“Depends,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “How long does it take to make your ex think he lost the best thing that ever happened to him?”

Your laugh comes out before you can stop it. “It’ll probably never happen, I just like to see him squirm.” The weight of his words sits in the air between you, heavier than it should be. You turn to look out the window, feigning interest in the row of darkened houses you pass by. 

“You know,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think they’re worth this much effort. Your ex and… her.”

You blink, surprised at his shift in tone. “Well, thanks for that motivational speech, Riki. Really helps my self-esteem.”

He shakes his head, glancing at you briefly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean… if they couldn’t see how good they had it with you, that’s on them. You don’t need to prove anything.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. You open your mouth to reply, but the words don’t come. Instead, you study him in the dim light, wondering—not for the first time—why he agreed to this in the first place.

“Why are you doing this, Riki?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “I told you, I need you to help me pass Chem.”

You narrow your eyes, not convinced but also not ready to push. “You haven’t even asked for help past me giving you my old notes.”

He smirks again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “They’re just that helpful. Don’t overthink it.”

And maybe you don’t, because overthinking means dissecting the way he’s looking at you now in the faint glow of the dashboard, like he knows something you don’t.

The car slows to a stop in front of your house and you fiddle with the hem of your halter top, trying to figure out how to say what’s been sitting heavy in your chest since the bowling alley. “Riki,” you start, your voice softer than usual.

He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.

You take a steadying breath. “I don’t think… I’m ready for a real relationship.”

That gets his attention. His hands shift in his lap, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” he says after a beat, his tone cautious. “Where’s this coming from?”

You shift in your seat, suddenly finding the dashboard very interesting. “It’s just… you’ve been really good to me this past week, and I feel like it’s not fair to you. I mean, you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel, and I don’t want to lead you on or—”

“Hey.” His voice is calm, steady, and it makes you pause. “You’re not leading me on. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Yeah, but…” You trail off, frustration bubbling up because the words in your head won’t come out the way you want them to. “It’s not just about you. It’s about me, too. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with… all of this. Not after everything with him. It’s too much.”

He doesn’t say anything right away, which somehow makes it worse. The silence stretches, and you’re about to apologize—again—when he finally speaks.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I think we should stop,” you say, hating how small your voice sounds. “The fake dating, I mean.”

He nods, almost imperceptibly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not—” You stop yourself, biting your lip as your eyes burn. “I just… I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve someone who’s all in, and I can’t be that right now.”

His lips twitch into a faint, almost sad smile. “You’re thinking too much about me again.”

You frown, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs lightly, his eyes moving away from you briefly before they settle back on yours. “It means you’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. I’m a big boy; I’ll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He cuts you off gently, an easy smile still on his face. “If this is what you need, we’ll stop. No hard feelings.”

The simplicity of his response hits harder than you expected. It’s so Riki—quietly selfless, always willing to go along with what makes you happy.

You hate how much you suddenly want to reach across the console and kiss the life out of him. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile.

“Thanks, Riki.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anytime.”

You watch him exit his car, circle around the front, and open your door for you while holding a chivalrous hand out just like before. A part of your heart aches with the knowledge he’s still doing this despite not technically having to, and you smile softly as you accept his help. His hand doesn’t linger in yours as it did before, though.

The walk to your front door is silent, and he halts just before the step onto your porch, his hands in his pockets, you pause before approaching your door, turning to him. With the few inches that the porch gives you, meeting his gaze is easier. “Tonight was really fun, ignoring the end of it,”

He chuckles softly, “Glad you had fun, pretty girl.” 

If he didn’t mean to let the name slip he doesn’t show any signs of panic or regret, only meeting your nearly-level gaze with warmth.

There’s a moment before you turn your body only slightly towards the front door, “Goodnight.”

His hand catches your elbow gently as you begin to turn away from him, pulling you back yet giving you time to pull away if you so desire, and you don’t.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s softer than you imagined it’d be. His hand moves to your cheek yet pauses just before his skin touches yours, lips sweet and slow against yours. 

It’s over before you can kiss back like you want to, his lips parting from yours with a soft smack that makes your stomach flip. 

“Goodnight.” He bids in a low mumble, barely an inch from your lips when the words leave his and he takes a step back with a soft smile that makes your heart twist painfully, “See you Monday.”

You can only nod, forcing a slight smile and turning to punch in the door code with shaky hands and a heavy, aching heart.

part two.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[candidupped]

got me tingling 🙂‍↔️

[arelyvn]

Student Council President Nishimura Riki ──. ⋆༺♱༻⋆ .

nishimura riki's goal is to make the school succeed no matter what, but he can't help but also want the submission of the Student Council Vice President-you, with that..

nishimura riki x fem!reader

content warnings: smut, angst, slut shaming, ass and pussy spanking, he gets mean, oral (m receiving), pussy eating, fingering, squirting, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, heavy makeout, mild dubcon, jealousy, reader is avoidant, not a lot of aftercare, riki becomes unhinged, and possessive, he kind of manipulates her sexually, reader refers to him as nishimura, but later calls him riki, porn with a plot, lmk if I missed anything!

word count: 10981

──────── . ⋆༺♱༻⋆ . ────────

Ravenchrest Academy, the most elite school in the country, only the richest, smartest students are accepted. Including you, Student Council Vice President.

People tend to use the word “bossy” or “demanding” when talking about you, which isn’t entirely false, you just like getting your way

So why does Nishimura Riki, the Student Council President think it's okay to boss you around, while you have to hold your tongue through it, even though most of the time you don't.

Truth is, he sees it as a power imbalance, in the end you have no choice but to listen, you two have a…complicated relationship.

Even though its the most luxurious School in the country, you still have to work in the same office as him, irritatingly so.

“So you're saying you haven't printed, nor made the sign up sheet for the student leadership conference?” Nishimura says, not even bothering to look up from his papers

“That's what I just said.” You say from your desk, the space isn't too cramped but it wouldn't be able to fit another person, your desks are nearly across from each other.

“And you think you deserve being in this position?” You hate the way he talks to you like you're beneath him.

“I was voted for among the students, and teachers. I think I'm perfectly capable of being in this position.” You say resisting the urge to throw your keyboard at his face

“Well I think you are too, but you can't even perform a simple task like making a sign up sheet, it's pathetic really.” He says, that “nonchalant” attitude radiating off him

You inhale and exhale, trying to calm yourself down before speaking “I'll work on it right now.” You say through your teeth, biting back the long list of insults you’re holding back

“Good.” He simply says 

Honestly, he acts unbothered and everyone around him believes it. Anyone would bend their backs just to do what he wants. Does he abuse the power? Yes. But there's only one person who can’t seem to back down, and it's you. No matter what he does, no matter how much he establishes his authority over you, no matter how much he punishes you, you still don’t respect him the same way the other students do.

He tries to hide his shock at the way you didn't insult him, opening his mouth to make a smart ass comment before a knock on the door cuts through the silence

“Come in.” You both say at the same time, glaring at each other

A shorter girl comes in, black hair cut in a short bob, she looks nervous. You're too focused on her to notice the way Nishimura's gaze immediately goes to her.

“Hi–I um, you emailed me to come here” She says, voice quiet

“Do you need help with something?” You ask, brow raising

“Sori, we can speak outside.” Nishimura says, standing up, you don't miss the way his hand guides her, resting on her lower back

You've noticed, he likes the shy ones, the girls who are willing to do anything for him at any time, you also notice the way he seems so gentle with them, almost like they're fragile. The complete opposite of how he treats you.

You also don't miss when he comes back, 20 minutes later, tie disheveled, lips slightly plumper than before.

“What did she need?” You press, your eyes focused on the computer

“Why? Jealous she took away from our precious alone time?” He says, watching your face for a reaction

“I just wish she would have kept you longer so I could enjoy my precious alone time.” You say calmly

You don't see the way his eye slightly twitches, annoyed with your need to be a walking disobedience to him. But he doesn't say anything, because he knows he'll eventually break you too.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

Since your school is known for its large charity events, and fundraisers, you're not surprised when the reporters come around to ask you about it.

So here you are, standing outside in the irritatingly hot air with Nishimura's hand on your back, and a reporter who won't shut the hell up.

“Hm..Can you two scoot closer together? This is going on the front page of the Academy's newsletter." The one holding the camera says

You look at Nishimura, he looks down at you before pulling you flush against his side, his hand splayed at the waistband of your skirt

“Perfect! And smile!” 

You take a deep breath before putting on that performative smile you always wear around teachers, and classmates

“Thank you, the letter should arrive later this week!” You and Nishimura just nod as they walk away

Pushing him from your side slightly “They’re insufferable.” You say using your hand to fan yourself

“Taking a picture with me is really that bad?” He says smirking

“Do you really want me to answer that?” your attitude spiking from the heat

his eyes lock on yours, an intensity you know so well glinting in them

“Careful, don't forget your place y/n.” He says, walking back to the door

You just stare at him in confusion as he walks away like the cocky asshole he is

Later that week you decide to go to school a little earlier than everyone, walking to the student council office, pausing when you see him already there

You step in, setting your bags down “Shocker that you're here.” you say, he doesnt even look up- is he laughing at you?

You stride to his desk to see what he's looking at before snatching the paper from his hands

“What the fuck!?” You practically yell and he bursts out laughing

Nishimura Riki is laughing. Which is odd considering what an uptight asshole he is

“I think they got it right” he says watching your face as you study the newsletter’s cover

“Nishimura Riki Student council President, and L/n Y/n The Vice president are the ultimate duo, chemistry unmatched as they work together to lead the Academy to greater heights–” You look at him eyes wide

“Is this official?” you ask, tone serious

He looks up at you through his black framed glasses

“It's already been given to the teachers to pass out” He checks the time “And right about now they should be given to the students.”

You look back down at the paper in horror

“Do you know what this means Nishimura?” You say, he asked you to use his first name before, but you refuse to call someone who you despise that

“That we have great chemistry? That we lead the school to greatness?” sarcasm leaking in his tone

“It means all your little girl toys are going to come for my throat.” You say slamming the paper on his desk in aggression

“Girl toys? Really y/n?” he says, brow raising, with that obnoxious smirk you want to slap off his perfect face

“That's what I just fucking said!” you yell, anger filling in your voice 

He stands up, towering over you, the only thing between him and you being his desk

“I suggest watching your tone, especially if you don't want me to tell the headmaster that your skirt is 3 inches shorter than the required length, breaking the dress code. I'm sure they wouldn't want their star student– well besides me, to be known for being a slut who flashes her light pink lace panties, now do they?” He says, tone calm

You swear your face is red, and someone definitely turned up the heater.

You don't know what to reply to first- the fact that he knows so much about how long your skirt is, or the fact that he knows what color underwear you’re wearing right now.

“You fuck-” You stop when someone knocks on the door

He just looks at you, that stupid ass smirk on his face “Come in” He says, a little too calm for someone who just practically violated your entire ego.

A boy you recognize from the student council meetings comes in, pausing in the doorway looking at the both of you standing up

“Um- Sorry did I interrupt something?” He says fidgeting with his clip board in his hands

“No, you didn't." You walk over to him

“Well I have the list of places to go for the student leadership conference-” he hands them to you

“This is good.” you say, scanning the papers

Nishimura sits back down, watching the way the boy nervously picks his nails “Ill review them and let you know if we need to make any changes.” Nishimura says, holding his hand out for the papers

You hesitate a beat before giving them to him

He watches as the boys eyes linger on your skirt before snapping back to your face when you turn to face him, making him scoff under his breath. That was his last straw.

“Thank you. You can leave now.” He says watching the boy shut the door behind him

“Fix the skirt issue, it's clearly distracting for your classmates.” He says, writing on the paper

You let out a sour laugh "You're still on that? Are you fucking serious right now?” 

His eyes snap up to your face “You think it's okay to talk to me like that?” 

“Yeah, actually. Considering you're wrong.” You say crossing your arms over your chest in defiance

“y/n, I would suggest cutting this attitude of yours off before I do something I wont take back.” He says, eyes testing

“Oh please, you’re not going to do shit—just because you’re literally one rank higher than me doesn’t make you any better.”

No one is able to get on his nerves as bad as you.

He stands up, walking around his desk till he's directly in front of you, reaching behind you to grab a ruler

“You really want to test me right now?” He says holding the ruler up

Now you’re doubting yourself, you watch as he holds the ruler up to your skirt

3 inches too short.

He tsks looking at you “y’know, you've been testing my patience this whole semester, but it's been even worse this past week.” 

He stands up to tower over you again “How should I punish you then?” he says, letting the ruler trail down your arm, letting the words sit. you don't know why you can't talk right now– maybe shock?

“Speechless now? Interesting.”

“You're a pervert.” you say through your teeth

He chuckles, pushing his glasses up his nose

“Bend over the desk.” He says, eyes locked on yours

“What?” you're not sure you heard him right

“Bend.Over.The.Desk.” spelling it out like you're a child.

“Nishimura-im not–” You don't even register when he pushes you down onto the desk, the edge of it digging into your stomach, before lifting up your skirt

“Pink lace, I knew it” He chuckles, almost to himself

“What the fuck are you doing-” he doesnt let you finish your sentence before landing a sharp slap to your ass with the ruler causing you to nearly yell

“That's for having such a dirty mouth.” He watches the way your ass reddens 

He hits your other with the ruler, making you let out a whimper on his desk

“Oh? Don't tell me you're actually enjoying this?” He says rubbing your ass with the ruler, as if to sooth the burn

“I knew you were a slut, but this is just- filthy” He says using the ruler and his hand to spread your ass 

You whimper as the ruler grazes over your wet cunt through your panties

“F-fuck you” you let out through uneven breaths

He doesn't hesitate before bringing the ruler up and slapping it right onto your pussy making you choke on a moan

“Still acting like a spoiled brat even when I have you like this? You're going to need some work hm?” 

Both your eyes move to the sudden ring of the school phone on his desk

He lets out a breath of frustration before he grabs the phone, answering, hand resting on your back to keep you from standing up, you don't bother standing up either because some sick, twisted part of you likes this. 

You hate it when people try to put you in your place, so why does it feel so good when Nishimura Riki does.

He moves his hand from your back to pick up the ruler again, petting your ass with it, letting it tease your cunt, multitasking. Another reason why he’s so good at what he does.

“No, we haven't decided on a city yet.” he says tone clipped

“Yes and we'll get to it right away. I'm aware it's due soon” He says, angling the ruler corner to rub against your throbbing clit, making you bite back a moan

“Yeah, you too.” He says sharply before hanging up and setting the phone down

He retracts the ruler looking at it, the corner of it soaked with your slick. “Making a mess on my supplies now?” He says looking down at your pathetic state

“Stand up. Start looking for the best hotels in the cities from the list. Narrow them down and report back to me when you've finished.” He says, putting the ruler on the table and walking back around his desk

“Go on, I need my desk to work on my own things” He says, You use your arms to lift yourself up, pulling your skirt down

He just watches you, the blush on your cheeks, your hair a mess, a tear threatening to fall from your eyes.

“You’re still an ass.” you mumble under your breath, walking around your desk to sit down

He sits down as well, getting his pencil to write something

“You’re lucky we both have work to do, after all it is our duties as President and Vice president of the student council.” He says looking at you, reminding you yet again of your ‘place’

You try not to wince at the slight sting as you adjust yourself in your seat, or the wetness that's still pooled in your panties. 

Fine. If he wants to act like nothing just happened, you can do that too. You’ve always been good at pretending anyway.

“Ill have the papers on your desk at the end of the day, Nishimura.” You say, tone cold as ice

He tightens his lips. How can someone act so normal after what he just did– he needs you to be affected, apparently bending you over the desk and spanking you wasn't enough. He needs you begging for more, he needs you to feel humiliated. 

⋆༺♱༻⋆

You don’t bring up what happened, neither does he. With having to deal with community service day, and the upcoming student leadership conference, you don't even have time to. 

During times like this you get snappy, impatient, He doesn't like that. 

But when you do listen, and you dont talk back, he fucking loves it. He likes seeing the defiance in your eyes, when he tells you to do something, and you can't say a damn thing to him. Especially in moments like these, where you're proposing the final cities for the trip in front of the whole student council body, and he interrupts saying he's already come to a decision. 

You can't disagree with him either, so he watches as you open your mouth to speak then shut it

This is almost a mere experiment for him, he wants to see how far you will go so he knows exactly how to push you. 

He speaks up, and everyone quiets down “New York, it's the perfect city for it. I've already talked to the headmaster, and the other Student Council Presidents from Thornewood, and Redmont. It's been approved.”

You watch from beside him as their smiles light up, and they begin talking amongst each other

“Well get the room situation dealt with later this week.” He says over the talking, making everyone quiet again

“Thats all, feel free to stop by our office if you have any questions.” He says, not sparing you a glance before walking out of the classroom

You follow him, slamming the office door behind you

“How come you didn't confirm with me about the city?” You say, your nails digging into the flesh of your palm

He looks up at you from his desk chair with a smug smirk

“I don't need to confirm anything with you y/n. Do you need a reminder of who’s in charge here?” He says, brow raised over his glasses

“Last time I checked we’re supposed to work together on this whole thing–you can't just go and make decisions and claim we decided-”

“Who are you to tell me what, and what not to do? As Student Council President, the final decision was New York, and im not changing it regardless-”

“That's not fair! You didn't even let me know prior to the meeting with the rest of the student council! It made me look unprofessional in front of them!” You say, watching the way he rubs his forehead in frustration 

“Do you think it's okay to interrupt me y/n?” He says, watching your movements intensely

You swallow, he watches your throat bob

“So when I ask you a question you suddenly can’t speak?” He says calmly

“Come here.” He watches you walk around his desk till your standing beside him

“Get on your knees.” He says, scooting his chair back slightly

“You can’t be fucking serious Nishimura– I swear-” He holds his hand up

“You keep opening that mouth of yours, even when you're told to shut it. I think it just needs to be filled. So get on your knees.” He says, pushing his glasses up so their resting on his head

You don't know why you listen, it’s like something takes over your body when you lower yourself on the rough carpet beneath you

He looks down at you, leaning to move a stray hair out of your face, swiping his thumb across your lip, you part them slightly and he smirks at that, you’re stunning.

He moves his hand to unbuckle his belt, and pulls down his pants and boxers waisting no time. his dick hits his stomach with how long, and thick it is, and flushed red at the tip, who knew Nishimura Riki was packing, but you don't admit that.

He watches as you look at his cock, your facial expressions being so easy to read make him chuckle before he strokes himself slowly

“Open.” He says, tapping his dick on your cheek

You hesitate a second before opening your mouth slightly

“Go on, show me what else you can do besides run your mouth.” He says looking down at you, eyes almost siren like

You wrap your lips around the tip, the taste of his precum coating your tongue

“Mmm.. such a good little slut for me huh?” He says pushing your head down a little so you can take more of his cock in your mouth, making you gag 

“Fuck–” He lets out through a deep groan 

“You look so much better like this baby, taking my cock so well” He says looking down at the way your head moves in attempt to take him fully in your throat, the nickname he occasionally gives you making your heart skip a beat

You brace your hands on his legs to steady yourself 

“Your mouth is so fucking small for all the big talk you do-” He says before biting his lip

You mumble something, the vibration making him groan louder

He wraps his hand in your hair, moving your head for you, making you take him deeper, His tip hitting the back of your throat, as your saliva seeps out the corners of your mouth 

You curl your toes to try and not gag as he speeds up, interlocking both hands on the back of your head

“Im gonna cum y/n– swallow it for me” He says through uneven breaths before bringing your face down till it touches his navel and shooting his thick load in your mouth, he lets out the most deep, broken sounds as your throat milks him dry

You lift your head, looking up at him before licking your lips

He laughs “You’re a little cum slut huh? Only good girls take my load like that.” He says standing up and pulling back up his pants, fixing his belt, not sparing you a glance before he walks around you

“Where are you going?” You say, using his chair to help you stand up

“I still have important manners to attend to, did you forget we have the assembly in–” He checks his watch “Less than 10 minutes?” he says adjusting the end of his sleeve

He takes in your state “I would suggest cleaning yourself up, can’t have everyone knowing what a pathetic little slut you are.” He says, tone way too calm for your liking before he walks out, shutting the door behind him.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

Fuck Nishimura Riki. Fuck his stupidly hot hair. Fuck the stupid way his glasses fit his face perfectly. And fuck him for being at your favorite convenience store at 11:43 pm.

You’ve never seen him outside of school, and this is ultimately the last place you think he’d be. With your house being just 15 minutes away of course you’re going to stop by when your hungry. After all your parents seem to think you’re top chef with the ingredients they left before they went on their fancy weekend trip.

Typical, considering they’re practically never home.

You curse yourself for going out in your pajamas and a hoodie. The outfit being something you would never wear out unless you were desperate. And right now with your stomach growling at the thought of eating, you sure as hell are.

Opening the door to the store, you flinch at the bell above it that rings before swiftly make your way to the ramen section, Nishimura is on the other side—plus he doesn’t seem like the type to even eat ramen at midnight-

“Y/n?” you hear the smooth voice you recognize too well say

You sigh before turning to face him in the cramped aisle

“Nishimura.” you say, trying to take in his outfit, baggy jeans, black long sleeve..who the fuck wears jeans for a midnight convienence store run-

He looks down at your outfit with obvious distaste

“hm..interesting.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” you say crossing your arms over your chest

His eyes snap to yours, that look of authority glinting in them

“What did I say about your tone when talking to me? Or do I need to teach you another lesson?” He says, brow raising

You scoff at his words “Seriously? It’s midnight. Im tired, hungry, and you’re actually talking to me about that right now?”

“Y/n, I dont care if we’re off school hours or not, you still have to respect me regardless.” He says tone clipped

“Yeah okay sorry Mr. Student council president.” you say turning back around, and grabbing two of your favorite ramen

He shakes his head, tongue pushing against the side of his cheek, watching as you walk towards the cashier to pay

Coming beside you immediately he places his item down, the cashier scans it

“What the hell are you doing?-“

He hands the cashier the money, and gives you your bag before leaning down to whisper in your ear

“Thats for the other day, im not a total monster y/n. You deserve some sort of award for sucking dick that good.” He straightens before heading towards the door, leaving you with a dumbfounded look on your face

“See you on Monday Mrs. VP.” He says before walking out.

Even as you watch the water boil, you still think about the way his lips ghosted your ear when he whispered that to you, your mind drifting to the odd moments you two have shared over the past few weeks—what the fuck is going on.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“I mean seriously you two would make a really hot couple.” One of the two girls who came to the office claiming they had important manners to talk about says. You don’t even remember their names

“You’re sure you two aren’t like you know..” the other one says

You look at both of them, eye brow raised

“I mean with the news letter and all- great chemistry? More like sexual tension.” The first one says casually

Nishimura stops at the cracked door to listen closer

“I promise you it’s nothing like that. Nishimura is hardly even my friend.” You say eyes going back to your laptop

“Well you’re better than the both of us, if Riki was by my side all the time id be on that di-“ she stops when he clears his throat and pushes the door open

He looks at them confused as if he hadn’t just eavesdropped on the whole conversation “Are you here about the student leadership conference?” He says, setting his bags down on his desk before walking around to sit down

“Uh no—wait yeah we were just asking y/n about it” One of them says before mumbling something like “have a nice day” rushing out, shutting the door

You both busy yourselves with your assignments for your classes before he interrupts the silence “Hardly even your friend huh?” He says eyes on his computer, you look up at him

“You were listenting to that?” You say foot tapping on the ground

“Yes, this is our office.”

“Well yeah—but its true, are we not mere.. acquaintances?” you say testing

He laughs at that. “Do all your acquaintances get you wet?”

Your face flushes red when he looks at you “Nishimura thats not-“

“Riki.” He says, tone assertive

“I want you to call me Riki. Enough of this professional, formal shit you pull. We both know its all just a mask to cover up what a pathetic slut you are.”

“Fine. Riki.” You say before looking back at your computer

He smirks before going back to his work

“asshole.” you whisper under your breath

He cocks a brow “Do you really want a punishment that bad y/n?”

You don’t respond.

He rolls up his sleeves before standing up and coming to your side of the desk, you turn your head, not quite looking at him, he moves your chin to look at him instead

“Spread your legs for me” He says, you dont even hear his next words with how loud your heart is beating. He could probably hear it too.

“Are you playing stupid now?” he snaps in your face

“Huh-?” you say looking up at him

He crouches down before placing both his hands on your thighs “I said, stop fucking hiding yourself.” He says before spread your legs for you to see your most intimate part

He drags a finger up the middle to collect the slick soaking your panties “I knew it.” He says before spreading them wider and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, eyes locked on your as he does.

He watches you bite your lip, smiling against your skin before bringing his lips to your cunt, you don’t expect him to but he flattens his tongue against your clothed core making you moan right at the contact

“Look at you. What would all those who voted for you to be in this chair say if they knew how wet you got from a few words hm?” He says before flicking his tongue over your clit through your panties

“Fuck Riki-“ You whisper, hands gripping the chairs armrest

He presses feather light kisses to your cunt, his lips being exactly what you need to feel yourself getting closer

“You want me to take these off baby?” he says, teeth at the top of your panties waistband

You nod, eyebrows furrowed

He pulls them off your legs, before bringing them to his nose to smell, dick hardening at the scent of your arousal

You watch as he stands up, putting your panties in his pocket

“What?” He says tilting his head at your confused look

“You really think I’d eat your pussy here of all places?” He says like you weren’t just taking his cock in your mouth last week

“You literally-“

“Im not doing that here y/n. I have to finalize the hotel situation with the headmaster.” He says before bringing your legs down, and fixing your skirt

“Just in case someone comes in. I don’t want anyone knowing how desperate you get for me okay? So keep your legs closed.” You watch as he walks out, leaving you yet again with more confusion in your head and an ache between your legs.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Tommorow we leave at 7:00 am for the train, Remember we will be there for the weekend so pack accordingly. The room situation is figured out, I have the papers here of who your roommate will be, requests were accepted as well.” You say before passing them out to the other student’s

Riki watches from the front as you perform your required duties, he can't help but let a smirk show at knowing how hard you try to keep up this ‘good girl’ facade

With you two being in the positions you are, its natural that you where allowed to have your own rooms, so you don’t have a roommate thankfully.

That night you packed your bags for the trip, formal wear for the actual leadership events, casual clothes, pajamas, mentally preparing yourself for what you know is going to be a long weekend. And not because of the convention, but because you would have to be by his side the entire time.

You watch as the students board the train, checking off their names as Riki talks to the headmaster beside you.

“And one thing I want both of you to make sure doesn’t happen is room crossing, Im trusting that you will enforce that rule as well.” The headmaster says

“Yes sir” You say before focusing back on the students

“There will be photographers and such at the venue, considering this is an important event for the school, so I need you two to play the part of hardworking partners, which shouldn’t be an difficult. Your teamwork is not overlooked.” You hear him say to Riki before walking back towards the teachers

“Shouldn’t be difficult huh?” you say as Riki comes to your side and you check off the last name

“Are we not compatible y/n?” He says looking down at you with that knowing smirk

You feel your cheeks beginning to flush “Shut up—we’re going to be late” you say before mumbling something and boarding the train

You walk to your seat, passing by the other students before you find two empty seats at the back—fuck.

He watches you pause

“Get used to it, Well be by each others side this whole trip. I call aisle seat.” He says as he watches you sit down by the window. Fine. You wanted window seat anyway.

Since this is a long trip, 5 hours exactly, you obviously brought the book you need to read for one of your AP courses. The chatter had died down a bit, the classmates around you seemed to be sleeping or locked on their phones.

Riki is on his phone, scrolling uselessly. You hate that he doesn’t even have to try to be one of the top students in the Academy’s rankings.

You don’t miss the way his hand rests on your bare thigh, his thumb rubbing mindless circles, as if this was some everyday occurrence.

“What are you doing.” you whisper

He glances at you, and down at your book resting above his hand on your lap

He doesn’t say anything before bringing his hand under your book, and letting his hand graze your inner thigh, you gasp at the contact before he leans closer to you

“Keep reading, don’t want you to lose second place in the rankings.” He says watching your face as irritation washes over you

But you listen. Picking up your book and starting where you left off, trying to ignore his thumb inching closer to your heat

“Fuck—“ he breathes out when he makes slight contact with your clothed core “Does being touched like this in a train full of your classmates really turn you on that much?” He whispers into your ear quietly

“You want me to finger your pretty pussy infront of all them? Make you come so hard you wont even care that they’re watching?” He says, pressing the pad of his finger against your warmth making you bite your lip

Realisation dawns when you hear laughing from a few rows up. You’re in a train for fucks sake, you suddenly stand up making a few eyes go to you, before chuckling awkwardly and walking to the bathroom of the train.

You come back 10 minutes later, looking down at Riki on his phone, who doesn’t spare you a glance as you sit back in your seat. The rest of the ride is quiet, at least between you two..Did you make it awkward? Is he upset with you? But you brush those thoughts aside before picking back up your book and reading.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

Once everyone got situated at the hotel, rooms were found, and bags were unpacked, you sent a message to the student council group chat

“We are going to the main venue for the conference at 4:00, the other academy’s should be there at the same time. The dress code is formal, remember to make a good impression, this reflects the whole academy. We will meet in the lobby at 3:30” You send the message and shut off your phone to worry about what the hell you were going to wear

Settling for some dress pants and a blouse from an expensive boutique back home, you put your hair in a half up half down, before making your way to the elevator and stopping when you see Riki. spam clicking the down arrow button, you look at his attire, from the black business pants he’s wearing to the black formal long sleeve before coming beside him.

“If you keep clicking it, it resets it. Shouldn’t that be obvious?” You say giving it 5 seconds before clicking it yourself, watching as the door opens

He lets his eyes roam down your body, from the way your blouse hugs your chest, to the pants that fit your ass perfect, he doesn’t hesitate before guiding you in the elevator like you couldn’t do it yourself, his hand dangerously low on your back.

“Im not going to check you for your tone, only because you look sexy as fuck in this” He says before trailing his hand down further to cup your ass in his hand making you gasp slightly

“You wearing these to impress someone?” He says, looking at your face when you don’t move to look at him

“These are just regular pants.” You say when the elevator dings, stopping on the 4th floor to pick up a few of your classmates, his hand makes its way back to his side

You make room in the elevator for your classmates, trying not to take too much space, but also trying not to touch him

You’re half listening to their conversation when you feel him, pressed behind you “Riki what the hell-“ you whisper so only he can hear

“Shhh” he whispers before subtly placing his hand on your waist and pressing his front into your back, claiming it’s too cramped in the elevator—if you make any sudden movements your classmates attention will be on you—

Your eyes flick up when the door opens and you practically jump out the elevator, smiling when you see everyone in the lobby on time, once again putting on that mask. Riki follows behind you, shaking his head with a smirk on his face

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Yeah, I think the work of student councils vice president is severely underrated, it always gets pushed aside by everyone. So I try to give as much credit to ours as possible” Says the boy infront of you, Yang Jungwon, Student Council President of Thornewood Academy.

“Well she’s definitely lucky..” you say admiring the way he talks so passionately about it

“You see that guy over there?” You say subtly pointing at Riki, making Jungwons eyes go to him

“You probably already knew but hes the Student Council President at Ravenchrest.”

“The one who keeps looking at you?” He says, eyes back on you when Riki glances in your direction again

“Yeah..Hes got this like weird possessive thing..”You say, before turning back to Jungwon

“Right, I gathered that” He says nervously, making you laugh

Riki watches from the table hes seated at, the words of the girl talking to him going in one ear and out the other, whats so fucking funny? Is he really making you laugh that hard? How about you go and be vice president of that school instead since you’re already so buddy buddy with him.

He excuses himself from the conversation hes in, and walks over to you and Jungwon

You two are too busy talking about how your schools are extremely wealthy, yet you still have one office to work in, when Riki suddenly interrupts

“Y/n, you dont enjoy our shared space? because I could have sworn—“ you cut him off

“Nishimura, this is Jungwon!” you say a little to cheerfully

Riki glares at the use of his formal name

Jungwon holds out his hand “Nice to meet you, in person” He flashes a smile, dimple evidently clear, Riki shakes his hand before facing you

“I need to speak to you about student council.” He says turning to you

“Can you wait a few min-“

“Now. Its important.” He says eyes lowering on you

You hesitate before turning back to a very uncomfortable looking Jungwon

“Im sorry Jungwon, duty calls. Maybe we can talk over breakfast sometime yeah?” You say offering a small smile

He nods “I’d like that y/n” he says before Riki practically drags you across the venue to the side of the stage, where its dark and secluded

“You won’t be meeting him for anything.” His hand splayed on your waist possessively

“I will-“

“you wont.”

“Thats an order, as Student Council President. And you will listen to me.” He says, tone sharp like a knife

“You can’t do that, thats not fair-“ You say

His eyes drop to your lips “Do you want me to punish you here y/n? Of all places? Make you take my cock so deep you wont-“

“Riki?” you hear a small voice say, and he immediately pulls himself from you when a girl rounds the corner, the one from a few weeks ago, short hair, small frame

She pauses when she sees you, looking between you two, voice stammering as she speaks

“Um-the reporters are looking for you..They said they wanted a picture of all the student council presidents together but I can just tell them you’re busy-“

“Thats not necessary Sori, Thank you for coming to get me.”

You watch as he smiles sweetly, tone suddenly gentle like he’s talking to a baby deer who’ll run away from him the second he makes a sudden movement, it makes you scoff

He hands you a card before whispering in your ear “Nine. Since you’re looking to be put in your place so bad.” He says before looking back at Sori, placing his hand on her waist as they walk back to where everyone is, she hasn’t done anything to you but you want to pull her by her stupid hair so fucking bad right now.

You look down at the card in your hands—the hotel key card to be exact, with his room number on it, biting your lip as you put it in your pocket

The rest of the afternoon is a blur, from people asking you questions about the school, to students asking you permission for every little thing, like yes the food on the table is there for you to eat. You even decided to get Jungwons number so you can make breakfast plans, since Riki rudely interrupted you two.

Its not like he’s your boyfriend so it doesn’t even matter if you get food with another guy anyway.

But your mind cant stop replaying the interaction between you and Riki earlier, your heart beating at the thought of what would happen if you actually went, I mean his room is on the same floor so theres no harm in it..right?

⋆༺♱༻⋆

You’ve been back at your room since 8:15 pm, contemplating actually going, pacing around like an idiot. Its 8:52 now. Why is time moving so much faster right now!

Sitting on your bed in your bra and underwear, matching set..for no specific reason. Trying to figure out what to put on, maybe sweatpants? No that feels to casual, but is this not casual?

You settle for some shorts and a sweater, after second guessing it five times. Looking at your phone “Shit!” 9:08. You lock your room door behind you, awkwardly waving at one of the housekeeping ladies before making your way to his room

“715..710…705.” You whisper as you approach the door, knocking on it, waiting for any type of response

You lift the key card to the door and it unlocks, the cold handle biting your skin when you open it.

“Riki..?” you whisper before taking off your shoes and walking further in the room, shutting the door behind you quietly, like someone will know you’re here if you close it too loud. He’s sitting on the bed, scrolling on his phone as you approach him, he’s wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Casual. Because this is all casual right?

“You’re late.” He says looking at you, glasses resting low on his nose

“It’s only like 10 minutes-“ you start

“I don’t want your pathetic excuses.” He says before putting his phone down next to him

You look like a deer in headlights, just staring at him, the silence is brief. “You we’re talking to him again.” He says, eyes locked on yours

“Who?” You say, knowing exactly who.

“Jungwon.”

“Am I not allowed to talk to him now?” You say brow raising, that familiar temper rising

“I don’t like when you don’t listen.”

“Come here.” He says, and you walk over, stopping at the side of his bed

“Are you going to listen to me now y/n?” he says, eyes trailing down to your legs

“Depends what you ask-“

“Take off the shorts and sweater, I want to see if im right.” He says watching your face

“Right about what?”

“I’d bet my position as Student Council President you’re wearing one of those little matching sets underneath your clothes right now. So I want to see if im right.”

You can feel your face flush. because he is right. your expression is all he needs to know for that.

You lift your sweater off your body, letting it fall limply to the ground, watching as his eyes drop to your chest in the white bra you chose, before you pull your shorts down, stepping out of them to reveal your white panties with a pink bow on the front

He lets out a knowing chuckle, “You wore that for me y/n?”

“No-“

He pulls you to his lap, his chest against your back before whispering in your ear “I don’t want your pathetic lies either.” He says, using his hand to spread your legs as the other trails across your collar bone

You watch as his hand inches closer to your core, his finger brushing it slightly making you gasp

“Sensitive are we now?” He says before pulling them to the side, the cold air making you whine as it hits your bare cunt

He brings his middle and ring finger to your mouth urging you to open

“Suck” He says before you take his long fingers in your mouth, sucking them as if they were his dick

“Look at you, you really miss my cock that much?” He says before pulling them out and bringing his hand back down to your core

He gathers the slick, mixing it with your saliva and making slow, agonizing movements on your pussy

“Riki-“ you let out through a breathless moan

He uses his two fingers to spread your pussy open more, and uses his middle finger to flick at your puffy clit, making you gasp, his other hand slides down to cup your tit in his hand

Your head is thrown back against his chest, your eyes rolling at the sensation, but his eyes are locked on the way your legs twitch everytime his finger makes contact with your sensitive bud

You’re moaning gets slightly louder when we rubs your clit with two fingers, pinching it between them, he smiles at that

“Are you gonna come just from me touching you like this?” He says, voice mocking

You try closing your legs but he brings his hand down from your chest to hold you open

“Yes- fuck im close” You let out as he rubs fast figure 8’s on your pussy, he watches your breath pick up, and how your hole clenches around nothing

“You wanna come baby?” He says, somehow his fingers are moving faster

“R-riki im gonna-“ you let out a moan that turns into a sob as he moves his hand from your pussy to slap your thigh

“You think you deserve to come from my fingers? After the shit you pulled tonight?” He says, rubbing the spot he hit softly, watching as your clit practically throbs at the loss of contact

“Little brats like you don’t get to come so soon.” He says before landing a sharp slap on your pussy, making your hips jolt, you let out a choked moan at the sting

“L-let me come—“ you say before he lands another sharp slap to your clit before rubbing it again, picking up his pace, bringing you closer to the edge and then stopping again

You swear you feel a tear slip from your eyes “Aw, are you crying?” he says, bringing his hand that was on your thigh up to wipe the tear

“I-I cant—“ You let out through a whine

“Thats too fucking bad.” He says before slapping your pussy again, with more force, your hands claw at his arm

He watches as your sensitive pussy flushes at the harsh contact, yet somehow you’re even more wet

“I-I wanna come..Riki” You say looking up at him, eyes watery

He begins rubbing small circles again, teasing you

“You’re going to have to beg.”

You hesitate and he notices immediately. Landing another slap to your cunt making you practically yell

“Fuck!- Please Riki!” You say when he traces your pussy lips with his fingers

“Please what?” He says knowingly

“Please..make me come from your fingers” You say, that pleading tone in your voice making him bite his lip before he plunges his two fingers in your hole, sliding in with how wet you are

You let out a sharp moan as he curls them just right—your eyes threatening to close from how good it feels to be filled

“Open your eyes. Look at how good your pussy takes my fingers.” He says, trying to hold his own composure as your walls flutter around his fingers

He makes a scissor motion in you, stretching you more, moving his fingers in and out, and curling them

“mm y..yes im gonna- come—“ you say through whimpers, your arms hugging the one hes using to finger you

“Yeah you wanna come baby?” He says curling his fingers deeper in you, making you hug tighter on his arm as he hits the perfect spot, he watches as you throw your head back, using his fingers to ride out your orgasm, his dick hardening at the sight

But he doesnt stop. Instead of curling his fingers he thrusts them in and out, pushing your arousal back in you, his palm hitting your clit over and over again as he pounds his fingers ruthlessly into you

“F-fuck! Riki!” You say through a string of moans

“You’re not done. I want to see if your pussy can squirt for me.” He says, fingers reaching deeper at each thrurst, the sendation of your clit being hit making it even more euphoric

“I-i have to-“ You scream- actually fucking scream as the clear liquid comes out of you, soaking his hand- your legs- the bed beneath you, he’s fucking his fingers in and out of you, trying to milk every last drop your willing to let out, you’re nothing but a pathetic whimpering mess when he finally stops moving his fingers, he inches them out slowly “I knew you could do it, you’re a good little slut right baby?”

“Y-yes Riki-“ you say, trying to catch up to your breathing as you come down from your high, your legs are practically limp, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them to taste you, he closes his eyes as your flavor hits his tastebuds

“I want-“ He starts and then stops at the sudden ring from your phone, eyes glancing to the nightstand at the sound

He used his other hand to reachover and pick it up and his movements still. You sit up to see what he saw and your heart drops at the reminder you had set earlier

Make reservations for breakfast with Jungwon

and right under that is a text message

Jungwon: Hey it’s Jungwon, im exited to talk soon without any interruptions lol :)

Riki hates the way he added that stupid fucking smiley face, your frozen between his legs, glancing between his unreadable face and your phone.

He moves you off him to stand up, pushing his glasses higher up his nose, before finally making eye contact with you

“I want you to shower, and then get the fuck out. When I come back you better not be fucking in here y/n” He says, not even giving you time to reply before grabbing his own phone and shoes and closing the hotel door behind him.

You feel like theres a wire around your throat, restriciting your breathing as a tear falls from your eye, why do you feel so guilty right now—was it wrong to get Jungwons number and make plans?

You force yourself up, not daring to look in the mirror as you walk to his shower, cleaning yourself, putting back on your clothes that lay beside the bed. You walk to the door, putting on your shoes, and make your way back to your own room.

You force yourself not to cry. Even if the pain in your heart right now wants nothing more than that to relieve it. After changing into your pajamas you curl into the hotels blankets, trying not to think about tomorrow. The fact that you still have to remain professional, by his side the entire time. You still have to act like nothing happened, put on that stupid fucking mask yet again.

Riki cant help but feel the dissapointment wash over him when he walks back into his hotel room an hour later, with a bag full of convenience store ramen, because part of him hoped you would keep that stubborn attitude and stay here, waiting for him to get back just to call him an asshole, he can’t help but feel like he fucked up instead.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

The morning was hell. Getting ready felt like a chore when it was supposed to be one of your favorite things. You put on a similar outfit to yesterdays, just with a white blouse, and black pants instead, you don't know why you decided to wear heels either when there a pain.

Riki hasn’t even looked in your direction this whole time. He didn't sit with you on the way to the venue, he didn't even touch you when you two had to take a picture for the “Most successful StuCo President and Vice President” award. Was he really this fucking mad over a text?

You’re helping one of your classmates prepare for their speech, as one of the best event planners in student council, when you see Riki, laughing with that girl. Sori. How can he be so unbothered right now? Why does your chest hurt at the sight of her touching his arm. The same arm you were clinging to last night. You should just go over there and tell her exactly what-

“Y/n?” Your classmate says

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was asking if I should just bring the note cards with me just in case?” She says looking at you with a worried look 

“Um- yeah, just do that” You say before excusing yourself, you need to talk to Riki. Now. You're walking closer, when someone stops infront of you, Jungwon.

“Hey, you didn't answer my text last night, are you okay?” he says observing the intense expression your face

You fully turn to face him “Yeah im just nervous I guess” You say chuckling to ease the tension

“You? Nervous?” he says brow raising

“Well yeah..?” you let out awkwardly

“Do you want to come sit with us? Not like one of those weird rival schools kind of way- it's just, you look like you could use a friend.” He says offering that kind smile

You look past his shoulder, Riki’s eyes locked on you. But his hand is on Sori’s back. You look back at Jungwon before smiling and nodding.

“And then he tripped- actually tripped over his own shoe after that whole ridiculous lecture” Thornewoods vice president says through a laugh

Jungwon can't help but laugh too, which makes you let out a giggle 

“It was truly humiliating..” he says rubbing the back of his head

Riki glances at you every few minutes, jealousy boiling in his chest, but you can't see it because you're faced away. You did that on purpose though, the sight of him touching another girl used to not bother you but in that moment, it made you want to throw up the appetizers that where passed out earlier.

Maybe it was a friendly interaction you needed, you open your mouth to say something when someone from the podium speaks

“Everyone please head back to your assigned school areas, we have a few more things to get through.” 

You smile at Jungwon and his friends before going back to your assigned section, looking down at the chair that says your name, and then the one next to it ‘Nishimura Riki’ plastered on it under the Student Council President title.

You sit down, crossing your legs, trying to seem less tense, even when you feel the shift in the air as Riki takes his seat beside you.

After what feels like 3 hours of speeches, awards, pictures, they finally pass out the dinner, the food was truly rich, which makes sense with how wealthy each of these schools are. You try to ignore his presence beside you, making conversation with your classmates instead, The only time you acknowledge eachother is when the woman who was speaking at the podium comes over to compliment you and Riki's work ethic, him claiming “he couldn't have done it without you.”, then going back to ignoring eachother. 

By the time the event was fully over, you said your goodbyes to Jungwon and his friends, thanking them for letting you join them earlier. 

On the ride back to the hotel, you check off the names of the student council members, making sure you didn't leave anyone, once you were finished you sat down, satisfied. But you could feel his eyes on you. Two rows back diagonal from you. 

Thanking God as you get to the elevator first, 7 other of your classmates joining, looking exhausted, you watch as the elevator doors begin to close when a hand stops it, making it open back up. Riki.

“What floor?” He asks the boy next to him

“Level two” He says, voice small, and Riki clicks it

The short ride is silent except for the whisper from your classmates next to you.

You watch as the elevator door opens and resist the urge to pull them back in there with you when 5 of them get off on this level.

“Im floor 3” One of the girls says, before clicking the 3 button

You look down at your feet, silently praying that the other girl is magically on the same floor as you, when the door dings open again your heart drops to your ass as they both get off. Leaving you and him here, alone. 

He doesn't click the 7 button on the elevator keypad. Instead, he settles for the ‘close door’ one, before turning to face you

“Y/n” He says looking down at you

“Look at me” He steps closer, lifting your chin, watching the way you cant even look at him

“Fuck- baby..” 

You swat his hand away “Dont fucking touch me- y-you spent the whole night glued to her side, touching her even after last night” You say, the words tumbling out of your mouth without a thought

“Well you spent the whole night practically eye fucking Jungwon so you're not completely innocent!” He says voice louder than intended

“He’s my friend! You don't get to take that away from me.” You say pushing him back, trying to make space in this small ass elevator

“A friend doesn't look at you like that y/n.” He says, hands resisting the urge to touch you

“Like what?!” You say, practically yelling even though you two were already close

“Like they want you as bad as I do.” He whispers, vulnerability leaking through his tone, a tone you haven't heard before until now

You look up at his face before letting out a sour chuckle sound, making his eyes snap back to you

“Thats bullshit- Riki you can’t even fucking kiss me.” You say, watching the way his eyes darken 

“Yeah?” He says, tone low before he steps closer to you, you step back, cursing the elevator for being to damn small when your back hits it

“Yea-” Your words are gone when he cups your face in his hands and presses his mouth to yours, you're frozen, in shock.

He pulls back looking at you with the most desperate look in his eyes, before you pull him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him again, your lips move like they were made for one another, his tongue brushes your bottom lip, before he pushes in, groaning into your mouth, his hand slips down to your waist, pulling you against him, but also pushing you against the wall more, as if it was the only thing grounding the two of you.

He steps back for a moment before clicking the ‘7’ button and then his lips are back on yours, your hand lifts his glasses so they rest on his head, even as the elevator door opens he's still trying to savor your lips on his, reaching into his back pocket to get his key card out, opening the hotel door and shutting it as he pushes you against it

He lifts your leg over his hip, rolling his hips into yours, making you both moan at the contact, you blush at the sound of him being so vocal, he pulls back, both of you breathing for a few seconds before he finally speaks again 

“Ive been wanting to do that y/n- I was just..” He sighs looking down then looking back at you

“I was scared.” The Nishimura Riki just told you he was scared. The same person who takes what he wants and nothing more is opening up to you..

You respond by pressing a soft kiss to his lips

“Fuck–you’re going to kill me” 

Then his lips are back on yours, the same passion leaking in from earlier, you both kick off your shoes, and clumsily try to remove the clothing off of each other's bodies without tripping, you fall softly onto the bed, he climbs on top of you, before kissing your neck, leaving sloppy kisses down your half naked body before unclasping your bra, his lips are on your nipple instantly, his hand coming up to knead the other one

Your back arches off the bed when he sucks your nipple between his teeth, gasping at the feeling of it, before he focuses on your other one with the same precision, your hands go to tangle in his hair when he kisses his way down to your core, watching as he slides your panties down with ease 

“Riki-” You breath out when he takes the glasses off his head

He looks up at you

“Want you to keep them on-” You say through a breathless moan

He chuckles “You want me to eat your pussy with my glasses baby?” He says kissing your thigh

“Please-” You manage to say, he puts his glasses back on before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking and licking, the same way he was kissing you earlier

He flicks his tongue over your clit, watching the way your eyebrows furrow at the stimulation

“Mm- tastes so good” He mumbles into your pussy making your hips jolt up, he looks up at you with hooded eyes, the sight alone could make you come right now

“W-wait” you say and he pauses, breathing heavily on your pussy

“Hm?” He says tilting his head

“Want to come on your cock..” You say shyly when he smiles up at you

He doesn't hesitate one bit before pulling his boxers off and guiding his tip to your entrance, smearing his pre cum on your pussy, hitting your clit just right

“Stop teasing-” You whine

“Why? Its fun” He says laughing at the way you squirm beneath him

Your legs move to lock around his hips when his hand stops you “Stop being greedy y/n” that tone of authority seeping in

He positions himself, hands gripped on your thighs before he pushes the tip of his cock in “Fuck- loosen up for me baby” his hand moving to rub slow circles on your clit, making you moan 

He slides in deeper, bottoming out, groaning at the warmth of you around him. He pulls out halfway before slamming back into you, making you let out a high pitched sound

“Riki–It f..feels so good” You make a wrecked sound as your fingers claw at his shoulders, he repeats the same motion, moving his hips and rolling them into you, his cock hitting you so deep you know you're going to be sore in the morning.

“This pussy was made for me baby- You’re taking me so well” He says kissing your shoulder, and gripping the pillow beside your head as he fucks in and out of you faster

He kisses your cheek, before his lips attach to yours, swallowing your moans, drinking them like water as he feels himself getting closer

“I-im gonna come ki..” legs locking around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer

“Fuck y/n-” He lets out before his thumb slips between the two of you and he presses your clit, your hole flutters around his cock as you ride your orgasm out, his thrusting doesnt slow down as he reaches his high, using your pussy to milk every last bit of come inside you, letting out the most desperate groans

His forehead rests on yours, you're both breathing heavily against each other before he pulls out slowly, the sensitively making you both wince

He moves to lay down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You two stay like that, in each other's embrace.

You don't know how long after, but you eventually got up to clean yourself, before he stopped you. Hand tight on your arm before he got up saying he wanted to help you this time, yes he rinsed your body in the shower, kneeling down, watching the water wet your hair as he looked up at you, before lifting your leg up and pressing gentle kisses to your core, the words "I'm making up for how many times I should’ve done this” rolling off his tongue

⋆༺♱༻⋆

Riki’s hand slides to your waist as the headmaster takes a spot next to him

“1..2..3, Alright, perfect!” The photographer says looking at the photo on his camera, before the headmaster turns to you and Riki

“I wanted to congratulate the two of you for the conference, the outcome was amazing- I mean the publicity too, the people truly see you two as the ultimate power duo, Great Job on your hard work.” He says smiling at the both of you

“Thank you” You nod

“I couldn't have done it without her” Riki says looking at you, because he truly does mean it

“Glad you're aware.” You say smartly, making the headmaster laugh before he walks away to talk to the photographer

Riki leans down to whisper in your ear “Careful y/n, I have no problem putting you in your place again.” He says before looking down at you

Your heart races at his words before you smile sweetly “I’d like to see you try” You say before walking back to the main building, he just watches, smiling because he knows he's going to do a whole lot more than ‘try’.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

Thank you guys for reading!

Also, Thank you for 500 followers! 😊 if you guys have any requests on what you want to see next, I would love to hear it <3

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