#and planning out my hair and makeup!!
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crybaby-bkg · 1 year ago
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oh my god I love being a girl I love playing dress up I love doing my makeup I love customizing my character I love looking different everyday I love shopping for new clothes I love experimenting with new makeup techniques I love!!!!!!!!!!‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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astrobei · 3 months ago
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sick and twisted and fucked up that the day i am supposed to be at my most powerful (halloween and diwali on the same day) is being entirely undercut by my supervisor’s terrible time management and potentially my most awful work day in many weeks
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artanogon · 4 months ago
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thinking more about being trans
#because i want the voice drop of testosterone because training my voice has not been enough for me. i want some of the body shifts with it#and i want top surgery at some point#half because aesthetics + dysphoria and half bc they're just inconvenient#but i dont want to be a “man”#i dont want the capacity to grow a beard or a bunch of hair and have to shave all the time to keep up my looks the way i want#i dont want to “pass” the way some people do#i dont want bottom surgery for sure and i don't have any desire to have a dick or anything. ideally i would be like a doll with no features#i certainly have no plans to stop dressing feminine#i like being my androgynous twink self#and theres certainly a lot of aspects of femininity i do enjoy#jewelry makeup skirts certain aestheitcs long hair etc#i just want to be able to wear those things in a way that i am no longer a woman but a feminine man instead#i want to be one of those weird 80s twinks who would steal your boyfriend while wearing your dress and looking better in it#or like half the men you see in regency shows with the long hair/fine features/gentle manner etc#idk. i dont want to be a man. i genuinely feel like im putting on the wrong skin saying im a transman#genderqueer/agender is the closest i think ill ever find#but god i just wish id been born a man and then had the freedom to explore looking like a girl#little fucked up freak femboy stuck in some body that doesn't feel like its mine#maybe going on t will help me feel comfortable with growing out my hair again tho#idk. spitballing#it doesnt even matter that much rn. i have to delay my t appointment because of other medical shit#but man are there a lot of thoughts up here that will never in any way make sense to most people or be accepted by greater society
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dragonji · 6 months ago
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bday spoils ft. fitcheck
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sirpeppersto · 6 months ago
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MY FAVORITE WIG HAS A GIANT HOLE AT THE TOP 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year ago
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I desperately need to be a scene kid for Halloween this year
#idk y but i suddenly realized that im an adult and could potentially buy the goth bullshit at hot topic#that 12yo me desperately desired. and then i was like oof but i like the contrast of color#like i think i really wanted to be somewhere between scene and emo really#but thrn i was looking at scene outfits and im like woof. this is the kinda cringe i love. all thr fucking patterns. all thr colors#i even have thr 1nvader z1m graphic tees in my closet... i think#i just dont kno how tf to do that to my hair and also i dont have actual makeup lol#but i must be a scene kid for Halloween. i want the most ostentatious outfit. oh god im gonna have to go to the mall#i havent been to the mall in ages. i need to go to hot topic and claires. is pacsun still around? do they still sell skinny jeans?#i feel like everythings all bland now in stores. where tf do i go to get early 00s and 2010s clothes#good will maybe??? oh god. its like 3.30am and my hormones r all fucked up so i was experiencing like the type of fear you have when youre#like a little kid in a dark room by yourself. its not fair. when my hormones shift it goes: im so depressed to im full of rage ill kill u#to the world is so fucking beautiful im gonna kill myself. like in a not worrying way idk how else to express the feeling. to the type of#unhinged and undirected fear that belongs to a kid who doesnt kno shit. also lil heart palpitations and sometimes feeling like im gonna die#its bullshit. y does my body hate me? ugh. at least ive got a Halloween plan now#unrelated#oh god. dont let me cut myself bangs. im trying to grow my hair back out lol. im an emo with no bangs
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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you never realize how hard it is to find a specific shade of blue for a suit until you go to find a specific shade of blue for a suit
#snap chats#i was supposed to go on a sunset walk but the organizer for the event was a no show ??? fuckin asshole#so i went home and decided to wear my mine cosplay for once#it was a cute result but how round my face is just kept bothering me. admittedly i didnt bother with makeup this time#just wanted to wear the shit for shits and giggles yk LMAO but then i remembered that anon bein like#'mate i woulda thunk ya'd do an aoki cosplay first' and so. i got curious and attempted to go looking#and my brothers in christ when i say. its so hard finding a suit EVEN CLOSE to his shade of blue. its nigh impossible#obviously i dont have plans to ACTUALLY purchase anything anytime soon. if i even fuckin found anythin but yk. Curious#his suit isn't perfectly cobalt or navy but its not explicitly teal- its in some. Dare I Say grey zone#of a SLIGHTLY TEAL prussian blue#ive checked both mens and womens and im just looking for the color im not even hunting for suit style#thats not even mentioning his tie's relatively unique too- HELL WHILE I WAS LOOKING I FOUND TIES SIMILAR TO SAWASHIROS#BEFORE I FOUND ONE ACCEPTABLE AS AOKI'S#at least i found one or two but my god... his outfit is so simple on paper but then you get int it and im gonna throw up#mine's easy-to-assemble outfit but incredibly unique face and hairline/cut vs aoki's simple face vs deceptively-difficult outfit#if my hair was longer and i bothered letting my facial hair grow out masato'd be easy as hell. already got that shit under lock and key lol#hate this house#ok im done being weird bout dressing up as middle aged men bye
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ningtual · 1 year ago
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that-cheer-up-anon · 1 year ago
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Went out to a new place by myself today!
The director for my old beauty school asked me to be a waxing model for her daughter's beauty students (at a different beauty school. Mine closed down).
It's been ages since I last got a wax and this school was really nice and professional (and honestly better) than mine (tbf mine was in a shady area).
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toyfrogs · 2 years ago
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help 😀
#I feel like I managed to accustom my friends when it comes to my mum’s weird restrictions and reactions because I tell them pretty much#everything that happens in our relationship and usually ask them for advice#but the one thing that frustrates me is that my boyfriend has no idea how bad things are and thankfully doesn’t understand what it’s like to#have a parent that controls the way you dress/wear your makeup and hair and dictates what you’re supposed to do for a living because they#want you to have a comfortable life and not go through extreme poverty like they did (I know her intentions are the best but she just#doesn’t know how to act in a way that I can comprehend fully…I love her with all my heart and it would literally kill me to have to cut ties#and I’m currently freaking out because I still haven’t told her I’m dating someone who’s not the ideal type she thinks would be a good fit#for me and it’s destroying me because I’ve never felt this good and have never been treated with so much care and respect and I’ve never had#so much reassurance that I’m loved and this relationship is just something I’m not willing to give up on or have it be taken away from me#but at the same time I NEED to tell her because how am I supposed to keep lying about which friends I’m going out with and not be able to#freely spend quality time with the person I love without stressing about time and being scared she’s gonna call or ask for pictures or#I’m planning on telling her but I’m SO terrified to lose him and also scared he’s gonna make my life a living heel and think I’m lying#about every little thing I do in the future and stop me from seeing him or having a phone or idk????#things are way too unpredictable in this house and have always been and I HATE that
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demadogs · 26 days ago
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guys im not gonna lie i got so fucking hot this year like its actually crazy
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rubiatinctorum · 3 months ago
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absolutely horrible that i can't change my hair length at random because when i look at photos from when my hair was shorter i consider getting my hair cut shorter again but then when i look at photos from when my hair is longer i want to keep it long. this could be solved through magic and no other solution.
#rubia speaks#GIVE ME A HOWL MOVINGCASTLE HAIR POTION!!!!!!!!!#i dont even want to change my hairstyle i like it long!!!!!!! but it's been long for most of the 2020s minus like 6 or 8 months#long for 2013 and 14 short for 15 16 17 18 and 19 long in 2020 and part of 2021 short for end of 21 long in 22 23 and 2024...#i keep seeing old photos where my hair is short and i wish i realised back then how cute i was!!!!!!!#but yeah i feel like it's time to change it up soon again but at the same time i dont want to!!!! i want to keep it long!!!!!!#even if it means i look the same in photos from 3 different years consecutively or longer#and can't pick out the year just from my hairstyle (or even that and clothing) like i used to be able to#i got to the point where i'm totally satisfied with my hair and makeup and clothing styles that i don't feel like i need to change it#but the tradeoff is that years in photos don't look very distinct anymore#great for things like author photos and profile pics i don't have to replace as often#but not great for feeling like the years are distinct instead of blending into each other like smeared paint#2017 is easy i dressed pretty emo. 2018 is easy i was into 1980s inspired looks. 2019 was a lot of stevie nicks inspired style#2022-2024 just don't have year by year definition stylistically for me and that feels kind of. idk. weird?#but this was supposed to be the goal. find a style i wanted to keep and could easily maintain and feel good abt. this was the plan
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chiumii · 6 months ago
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SIZE ~ (true form) sukuna x reader ౨ৎ .⋆。⊹ 18+
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thinking about kuna with a size kink....... is not good for my mental health omg. sukuna has been stalking you for what seem like years. Watching you when you walk to class, going out with your friends, heading to work,,, and who you fuck yourself late at night. You've always had a feeling as if you were being watched for the last couple years. An unknown darkness that follows you around. It should have scared you away,,,, but you couldn't help but give into your sinful desires... especially on the night that this darkness comes to pay you a little visit.
word count: 7600 sukuna x reader smut. size kink,,, obviously. dumbification, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, heavy smut, corruption kink, stalking, voyeurism, breeding, monster fucking, heavy CNC. Double penetration. Perv! Monster! Stalker! Sukuna x Innocent! reader (I have a problem). True form sukuna smut (yes, we get a double dicker sandwich).
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Sukuna always knew that he had a size kink, he just never acknowledged the fact until he met you. You were so small compared to him, it was like you were just a measly doll, a puppet. So pretty, so small, and so, so very innocent. He almost felt guilty for the things he fantasizes about doing to you. almost.
He additionally almost felt a little guilty for how many times he'd watched you masturbate through your window late into the night. The sounds you make while touching your pretty pussy were the only thing that calmed him after a long and stressful evening. He had been doing this for a while. Watching you, that is. He liked watching you get dressed for the day, guessing what makeup style you were planning on doing, the little pop you did with your lips right after you applied your lip gloss. It should be disgusting how many times he's rubbed one out to the sight of you popping those pretty pink, full glossy lips. but he didn't care nor did he feel a tinge of disgust towards himself.
He enjoyed all the times he's watched you walk to and from your little cafe job down the street. How your routine consisted of grabbing a coffee at a different spot despite being able to make yourself a free one at your place of work. How you would play with and feed your cats before heading out for the day.
He also enjoyed the days where you went out with your friends to the mall to shop, or to a restaurant for girls night. He especially liked it when you and your girls went out for dinner. All the cute and godawful tiny dresses you found yourself wearing always just about make him lose his cool. The only thing he hated about girls night out was the fact that you knew you were sexy, meaning men swarmed around you like vultures, eyeing you like a piece of meat. It made him want to bend you over the nearest table and fuck you right in front of everyone.
Sukuna owned you, he just hasn't put the collar on you yet.
Tonight was one of those nights where you went out with your girlfriends. Your hair was done up all pretty and your makeup took you hours to perfect, but it was all worth it for the evil, thigh clasping presence you felt in the dark corner of the club you were in. Your glossy lips were a tint of pink and your cheeks matched the deep red of the short dress you were wearing. The familiar dark energy seemed to be radiating all around you, more than normal.
He knew you couldn't see him, but sukuna stood at that corner of the room, hidden away from all the humans, his eyes locked onto one. Sweat glistened on the top of your breasts, and your lips seemed more plump than normal. But the thing that was driving him crazy was the fact that one man couldn't seem to leave you alone. he kept coming up to you in desprate search of starting a conversation, shamelessly eyeballing your prominent curves and licking his lips. sukuna wanted to explode his head right then and there for trying to seduce his woman. And what pissed him off even more was the fact that you were actually playing into it.
You kept making small touches to the mans arm whenever he said something "funny" and you bit your lip whenever he complimented you. But sukuna knew that your laugh wasn't genuine and your smile was a fake. He knew the real you. Of course he did. He'd been stalking you for months, if not years. he made his claim a while ago, and he wasn't gonna let some scrawny low life steal his property with a couple sad jokes.
Your smile faltered just a hair when you felt the dark presence leave the club. It was almost like a warm blanket had been ripped off of you. Your eyes seemed to glaze over, which led the random man to ask if you were okay.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I just feel sick for some reason" your response was an obvious lie, but apparently good enough for the man to believe.
"oh, are you alright, would you like a ride back to yours?" He asks, and to be completely honest, kinda made you cringe. Of course you didn't want a ride because the only reason you were talking to him was to make whatever was watching you jealous.
Sukuna found interest in you because of your innocence. But oh was he in for a surprise. You knew something had been following you, you knew it had been watching you whenever you touched yourself late at night. You've felt it since the very beginning.
its like you had your own curse.
You should have told somebody when the red flags started popping up out of nowhere; they started out small, ranging from your couch pillows being moved around, then progressed into things like your favorite pair of panties going missing, then to things that freaked you out, like waking up to your bedroom window being open in the morning even though you know for a fact that you had closed and locked it. You should have moved apartments. You should have done something when this started happening.
But you didn't. And it made you sick. Getting off on the fact that you knew you were being stalked by whatever was hunting you.
And the fact that you were upset that the mysterious darkness had left proves just how disgusting you actually are.
"guys, I think im gonna call a cab, I just got hit with a wave of sickness and I really just wanna go home and sleep" you told your friends after shooing off the man you had no interest in.
"omg girl are you okay? of course go home and rest im so sorry!" one of your friends said right after taking her 4th shot.
"yeah im fine, just not really feeling it"
"text me when you get home!"
Staring at the dark yet lively city lights flashing by you, you kept thinking about the little stalker you seem to have. You thought it was weird how turned on you got just from an energy, from a presence. You've never felt so.. needed. so, praised ?
No man, or woman. Has ever given you so much confidence, if that's the right word. And because of that, you've never felt another human beings intimate touch. You only want its touch. Whatever it is.
Sukuna knows what he does to you. He could basically see it radiating off of you. How much confidence you gained and how well you hold yourself. And he'd never been happier to be the one gifting you that grace. That's actually the main thing that peaked his interest about you. The way you held yourself throughout life. Nothing could stop you from getting what you want, and he admired that. It made him question himself at first, being so interested about a human being. It made him debate on keeping you alive. How dare a human make him question himself.
But that passed quickly the first time he'd seen your fingers fuck your pussy. it was delicious. he had to restrain himself from shattering your balcony door and fucking you stupid.
You felt it leaking through the cracks of your front door. It felt different than all the other times its followed you around and watched you throughout your life. It was stronger, and it turned you on so, so much more than normal.
You stood outside your apartment door debating on going inside. Your face was burning and your pussy was throbbing.
It felt like you were going absolutely insane, and it pissed you off not knowing what was making you into such a pathetic mess. With a deep breath, you opened your door only to be met with darkness aside from a few street lights illuminating your living room in a dull yellow.
You set your stuff on the couch before walking into your room, slinging your door open, you didn't even have to turn the light on to know that whatever it was, had decided to perch itself in your bed.
For the first time in years, you actually felt scared of whatever it was. Your whole demeanor changed in an instant, and it made sukuna chuckle.
That chuckle vibrated throughout your skull, straight down your core.
Wanting to fold in on yourself out of fear, but too turned on to do so; you walked in, closing the door behind you. Sukuna's eyes never leaving your much smaller frame.
Trying to hide the fact that almost your entire being is screaming at you to run away from the thing in front of you, you stand your ground.
"What are you?" You ask the figure you have yet to fully lay eyes on. All you're able to make out is a monster-like figure with four arms, two behind its head using them as a cushion against your headboard, and the other two resting on its thighs. Its legs are long and big, both of them spread apart, inviting you in, in the most almost taunting way imaginable. Its face is completely hidden in the dark, restricting you from seeing the cocky, shit eating grin plastered on its face.
"What a weird first question to ask, y/n."
Its voice sent chills down your spine, creating an even stronger pulse in your heart, and your clit. You involuntarily suck in a breath at the sound of its voice. Deep, husky and masculine. It's nothing like you've ever heard before, and it makes your skin crawl in excitement and fear.
He chuckles again at the gasp you let out. You stay in your spot, making sure to keep a safe distance away from him.
"Answer my question." The words left your throat as more of a command than anything else. Your eyes never leave his frame, even as he removes his arms behind his head and lean forward, crossing them across his chest. His eyes never leave your body either, drinking in the sight of your skimpy dress.
All he wants to do is burn it off of you and make you scream his name as you cream all over his cock, but that'll take a minute to happen, so he answers you instead.
"King of curses, my dear." His voice sending another wave of shivers coursing through your body. He stands, and your entire body starts screaming at you to run away. but despite that, you hold your ground, challenging the being in front of you.
He's at least over 7 feet tall, one set of arms still crossed over his chest, the other finds their way to rest on his hips.
"The name is Sukuna." You just about drop to your knees. not only is his voice is unbearable, but you've heard about him before. You never believed in ghosts, curses, spiritual beings, anything of the sort and you've never believed any of your friends or family members when they told you legends about the man standing before you, yet here you are. About to be torn apart by the king they've warned you about for so many years.
"Guess you've heard about me, hm?" You can't get your damn mouth to move or your throat to make any noise. Your eyes are as wide as planets and all you can do is take a shaky step back, mimicking his opposite step forward and towards you.
"Why- why are you here?" voice is shaking as you speak, your breathing is jagged, which is prominent in your stutter. Just as sukuna takes another step forward, his features are illuminated in the moonlight shining through your bedroom windows curtains. He's absolutely breathtaking, and not many people would say that.
I guess I really am fucked up huh
"oh y/n, don't play dumb now, doll." His grin never leaves his face and your eyes meet with his. He's scary in the best way possible, and it's making you want to wipe off that dumb grin by sitting on it.
"You're the one whose..." You take a moment to think, which is extremely hard when this monster starts stalking towards you ever so slowly, both sets of arms coming down to dangle by his sides. He tilts his head to the side and begins to hunch his back and bend over to get a closer look at you. The distance is closing in on the two of you, making you unintentionally walk backwards and into a wall.
The sudden feeling of the cold wall on your back makes you yelp in surprise, but you never look away. He hums at you, signaling you to finish your sentence.
"You're the one whose been watching me for so long.." You say under your breath. Chewing the skin on the bottom of your lip. Your hands clench into fists as he keeps getting closer and closer.
"don't act like you didn't enjoy my little haunting game, love. you do remember touching yourself just to the thought of me, right y/n?" His smug smile could be heard just by the tone of his voice. Your breathing deepens and he's stopped right in front of you, face to face with the thing that's been taking over your entire life for the past couple years. Your back would be disappearing into the wall if it weren't made out of sheetrock. He stands up fully and all you can do is stare straight ahead, looking directly in the center of his entire body. He's fucking huge. Letting out a shriveled breath, you close your eyes.
"Look at me, y/n."
You refuse to open your eyes, or even move in the slightest.
He gives you 15 seconds before one of his hands grips the base of your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at him, nails digging into the flesh of your rosy cheeks.
"I said, look at me." With a fearful yelp at the sudden contact, you force your eyes open and are met with the most sinful red eyes you could ever see in this lifetime.
"Good girl." He snickers at the petrified look that paints your face. Even though you look so scared, your eyes are clouded with so much lust. Sukuna can basically smell the arousal pooling in your panties and it's driving him up the wall. Without a word, he pins you in place, making no room for escape by pressing his one of his forearms against the wall above your head, another one finds its way trailing up your thigh.
You let out a desprate sigh at the contact of his fingers. He traces up the skin of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps to trail behind until he's met with the flimsy fabric of your underwear and it takes him less than a fraction of a second to feel just how soaked you really are.
"You're disgusting." His voice somehow got an octave deeper, but who are you to complain? You whine at his words, following a louder whine as he starts to trace the slit of your pussy through your underwear. Sukuna's hand locks your head in place as you look up into his eyes as he pushes your underwear to the side and pinches your clit, his fingernails creating a painfully pleasurable feeling.
With a loud yelp, your hips buck forward. With his final free arm, he uses his hand to push your hips back against the wall, keeping you in one place.
"Stay still." He commands. His hand on your hip is locking you in place, so you have no option than to obey. His finger traces patterns on your clit and moans dance off your tongue as a result. His fingers pick up the pace and are now harshly massaging at your center.
"a-ah, slow ple-" Without stopping his brutal pace, sukuna lets go of your face and just before it can fall forward, he grips a handful of your hair and yanks it backwards roughly. your eyes to lock with his once more. A scream at the sudden pain erupts from the back of your throat.
"Don't tell me what to do, i'll use you how I please." Sukuna pulls his fingers away from your clit only to land a harsh slap on the bundle of nerves, making you yelp loudly and your body jolt in surprise. He slaps it a couple more times before forcing two of his fingers into your wet pussy.
Sukuna's fingers slide in with ease thanks to his assult on your clit. He was standing at such a close proximity to your body that when your back archesoff the wall, your stomach and chest meet his front. Just as your body meets his, he decides to let go of your hair, making your head fall forward and onto his center. Your hands instinctually reach up and wrap around his body, using him as leverage to keep yourself from falling. Your nails dig into his back as his fingers work wonders deep inside of you, all you can do is bury your head into him to suppress your noises.
His fingers pump in and out of your pussy, curling and twisting at all the right angles, fingering your core as if he's trying to tear you apart from the inside out. Wet sounds come from just below you, but neither of you seem to hear them because they're drowned out by your loud moans and whimpers of pleasure. Sukuna's eyes never leave your body as you come undone.
His now free hand that was once in your hair decides to hook under your thigh, picking it up and letting it dangle, helping get a better angle to fuck you with his fingers. Because of this newfound angle, your back and head hit the wall behind you once more, but your arms don't leave his body.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl. So fuckin' small I could break you so, so easily." Your nails scratch at his back like there is no tomorrow and all you can do as a response is whimper.
"su- kuna" Your hiccuped plea of his name is enough to know you're about to cum all over his fingers, but he wont let that happen just yet.
"say it, y/n" Sukuna says, his voice solid. You look up, tears welled in your eyes as you look into his and your voice breaks.
"Please can I cum, please k-una please please please" Your cheeks are a deep shade of red and your mouth is slightly ajar and oh does sukuna wanna fill up your pretty mouth and ruin that pretty pink lipgloss that stain your full lips.
Without another word, his smirk deepens and his chuckle vibrates inside your skull. He takes his fingers out of you, your juices now running down your thighs and you're pretty sure your panties are completely ruined thanks to the demon above you. Your eyes widen while you plea him to continue with a hushed whimper.
"Hush, little one" is all he says before one set of arms is gripping your thighs and hauling you into the air. Your legs wrap around his torso on instinct and your throat lets out a surprised squeal at his actions. Your hands come up and one of them grips his shoulder, the other rests in his hair. You're now face to face with sukuna and his eyes look deeply into yours. one of his other free hand's is tangled in your hair within a fraction of a second and is pulling you in to kiss him with so much force, it almost gives you whiplash.
Your tongue tangles with his and you let out another squeal of surprise right into his mouth when your back hits the cushioning of your bed. Sukuna is now on top of you, his torso flat against your heat. The hand that was once tangled in your hair is now trailing its way to your neck. Sukuna breaks the kiss and you go to lean forward in protest, but his huge hand wrapped around your neck stops you. Another hand rests on the headboard above you, and the two that were holding you up now rest at the top of your dress.
With brute force and in the blink of an eye, your once beautiful red dress and strapless braw are now being ripped off of you, tiny flames ignite from the freshly ripped seam for a just a fraction of a second. You gasp at the sudden action and Sukuna's glowing red eyes never falter to look at the reaction on your face. He laughs once more at just how jumpy you are. the cold air hits your skin, causing your nipples to grow hard and goosebumps form on your smooth skin. Sukuna grabs the dress and bra out from under you and throw the articles of clothing across the room to be forgotten, all while looking right at you. Once the dress is out of sight, you look up at him, your eyes half lidded with lust that are basically begging him to use you.
Sukuna smiles at how innocent, yet already fucked out you look and decides to lean down toward your breasts, taking one of your nipples and fondiling it inside of his warm mouth. His tongue laps at you and your hands fly to his hair, pulling it out of pleasure. His two free hands now rest at your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, to which you happily obliged. His mouth moves from your nipple and starts to suck at the skin of your breasts. His mouth trails from your chest, down to your stomach and abdomen, leaving deep purple marks and bites that will most likely be staying for days, if not weeks. Your whimpers are like music to Sukuna's ears which only make him want to make you scream his name.
The hand that rested on the headboard is now grabbing your hands from his hair and forcing them down onto the mattress above you and the set of hands that were on your thighs are on your hips. Your eyes dont leave his, even as he rips your panties and throws them in the same direction he did your other clothes, making you bare yourself completely to him.
His hands part your thighs once more and pins them down, holding you in place.
"So cute, so tiny. 'could just ruin you hm?" he speaks as he lowers his head down to your heat, his breath fanning your dripping pussy. Your breathing is even more uneven than before as it's mixed with your hushed moans. Without taking his eyes off yours, he sticks out his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt, causing your jaw to slack open in the perfect "oh" shape as your whine rings inside sukuna's skull. He licks up your cunt a couple more times before it initially lands on your clit, then he buries his head into your thighs and nips at you like a dog in heat.
His mouth sucks, bites and laps at your clit, and you try with all your strength to buck your hips up, but to no avail, the hands on your thighs pin you in place as your arms are basically unuseful. All you can do is throw your head back in pleasure as this creature devoures you. His grip on your throat tightens a little more and suddenly it's more difficult to breathe, but you dont even care.
Sukuna's saliva mixes in with your fluids that run down your thighs and asscheeks, wetting the bed under you. His long tongue fucks itself inside your pussy and against your walls as his teeth drag across your clit. Sukuna doesn't look away from you, not for a second. He wants to see every twist on your face and flex of your abs as he eats you out, he's desperately and intensively observing you, as if you were the most beautiful, treasurable piece of art he's ever layed eyes on. His tongue is rough as he creates a rhythm of fucking your insides, and sucking your bundle of nerves.
Your arms tug at the restraint of his hands holding your wrists. He's so much stronger than you, yet that fact alone turns you on so much more. Your moans and hushed screams fill the room as small beads of sweat gather on your hairline. Your body twitches under sukuna's control and your clit is throbbing for release as he toys with you.
You're so close to finishing and sukuna can tell so easily. Your moans grow into louder screams and your back arches off the bed. His grip on your throat tightens, cutting off all supply of air and your eyes are thrown open as you choke and cough, trying to get any oxygen possible.
Sukuna laughs into your pussy, which vibrates through your whole body. Your eyes look down into his, desperately trying to tell him to let you cum, or breathe. Whichever one he will let you do. Your silent plea only turns him on even more and your vision is starting to blacken and your head begins to feel light.
"Fuck, you're so adorable when you're beggin' for your life" He says as he sits up and hovers over you, refusing to let you finish. The hand on your throat disappears and you cough and gasp for air, but just as you suck in a deep breath, its knocked out of you by a harsh slap to your face and all you can do is gasp in pain at the sudden stinging on your cheek. He grips your face directly after with the hand he had previously slapped you with and forces you to look down at your pussy.
One of the hands on your thighs moves up to your cunt and plunges inside you. Two of Sukuna's fingers thrust inside your cunt at lightning speed and curl up into your center, hitting that spot you need him most. You choke out a scream and your hips grind into his palm.
"Look at the mess you're making y/n. Such a nasty little girl you are." He says as he looks at your pretty face contorting from the overstimulation he brings upon you.
Sukuna's fingers are relentless as they move fast inside of you. Not even a couple seconds later, you're cumming all over his hand and arm, squirting your fluids all over him as well as your bed sheets. You come undone with a scream.
"K-kuna oh my god!" You're being so loud, you could almost bet the neighbors across the street could hear. Neither of you cared though, all you cared about was how you were about to be torn in half.
Your eyes are watery again and you're still desperately trying to gather air in your lungs. Sukuna's hands let go of your wrists and face, but right after, you hear an article of clothing rip. You sit up slightly in wonder, but your mouth instantly hangs open at the sight of two handsomely large cocks sprung up, hitting just above Sukuna's belly button. Your mouth instantly dried at the sight.
Speaking of sights, Sukuna thought you were a beautiful one. Your hair was a shriveled mess and your face was the most gorgeous shade of red. You looked so fucked out, yet so ready to take anything he gives you like the obedient whore you are. You had a look of fear and interest plastered on your face. Sukuna was never one for love or anything of the sort, but the moment he layed his eyes on you those couple years ago, he knew he was fucked. You were just so different than most of the humans he had ever made contact with. You didn't care about the difference between "good and bad" and you always took what you wanted without second thought, even if it took you a while to grasp. You were always ready for whatever was thrown at you and were always in control of everything around you.
That's why he decided to stick around. Since the beginning, he's wanted to corrupt your world and fuck up your flow of control. He was arrogant and cocky. You just needed someone, or something, to step in and take control over you. And sukuna was never going to let anybody else besides him take control over his woman.
Though he would never admit it out loud, you were breathtaking. You're also the only reason he hasn't burned this world to the ground,,,, completely.
"Think you can take em'?" Sukuna's voice never fails to make a shiver run up your spine. You don't answer him, all you do is stare into his eyes, a silent plea to just have him use you however he pleases. He takes your lack of an answer and laughs quietly under his breath. He brings one of his hands to his face, and smiles into his palm.
"you're gonna be the death of me."
His body slowly stalks towards you, crawling onto the bed, trapping your body between his and the headboard. Your thighs rub together in desprate search of friction. You can't take it any longer, you need him inside you. You need every part of this being in any way you can have him.
"I don't care if you think you can take my cocks' or not, I'll force you to take em' how bout that, yeah?" His head tilts as he speaks and one of his hands grips your leg and pulls your body down farther onto the bed, causing you to lay down underneath his much larger body.
"You're so- so big kuna.." Your voice is uncontrolled and small. Unlike earlier where your screams and moans were ear piercing and just so delicious. Your eyes look up into his, your hands sneak up to wrap around one set of his arms, squeezing his biceps as you chew on the skin of the inside of your cheek.
Sukuna groans at your words. He really was huge, trapping your body underneath his. One of his hands grips the headboard, another comes down to grip the side of your face. His thumb traces your bottom lip, smearing your lipgloss.
Just as you open your mouth, his thumb presses down on your tongue as you suck in his finger. One of your hands makes its way down his body, gripping one of his huge cocks in your small hand. Despite the size difference, Sukuna still hisses in response. You pump his hard dick a couple times, looking directly into his eyes as you suck on his thumb. With painful force, sukuna grips your wrists and suddenly, both your hands above your head once more.
With one hand gripping the headboard, one holding your wrists in place, another moves from your mouth to grip one of his dicks while the final hand holds himself up, hovering right above you. You whine at the lack of control you have, grinding your hips upwards as a sign to let you go, but all sukuna does is laugh at your attempts of escape.
"Stop moving, slut." He pushes one of his dicks at your pussys entrance, but you don't listen to him, you grind your hips upwards once more and Sukuna doesn't seem to like that very much.
"Told you to stop movin' brat" and without warning, or any lube (as if you needed any) he pushes one of his cocks into your pussy with full force. It has you automatically screaming at the stretch. It's painful and you're pretty sure you're bleeding.
Sukuna bottoms out inside of you and stills, the outline of his dick prominant through your stomach, it drives him insane.
Sukuna uses his now free hand and pushes down on the outline of his cock through your tummy and chuckles.
"Fuck you're so small y/n, look at your tummy baby" You obey him and look down, seeing the outline of his huge dick bulging in your abdomen. A scared moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight. It literally looks like he could split you in half at any given moment. Sukuna pulls his dick out, a painful sensation radiates through your vagina as he does. The bulge in your tummy disappears and sukuna's face falters into one of disappointment.
"fuck, you're bleedin' y/n! " sukuna says to you, and just as you're about to look for yourself, he thrusts his dick back inside you, filling you back up again. He bottoms out inside you and a strangled moan that sounds more like a cough forces its way out of your throat.
"full- im so full, too full please-" Sukuna's face turns into one of disappointment again at your words as he says
"that's too bad, I wasn't even close to being finished with stuffin' you doll." He mocks you, and just as he finishes talking, you feel his second cock at the entrance of your ass, which causes you to shoot your head up.
"No, no please dont" you beg him, despite your words not being how you really feel, you beg him not to anyways. sukuna's face is still one that mocks you, pretending as if he feels bad for splitting you open. He pushes his tip into your ass so slowly it almost makes this situation better. The stretch is unbearable, especially with how tight you are with another cock spreading you open and filling you already.
Sukuna's entire tip is stuffed inside, waiting for you to adjust to his length.
"Look at you, taking me so well. Such a good little girl aren't you?" His voice is taunting you. Your arms feel weak from how much you've been struggling to break free, so all you can do I lay there and adjust to his cocks with hushed moans.
Sukuna starts moving his cock deeper inside you slowly, but not slow enough.
"Kuna please no, it's too much I can't take it" Your head shakes from side to side as painful tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. Sukuna pouts at this and leans down and uses his tongue to lick the tears away.
"you can take it, you're already doing such a good job for me." This reassurance helps you a little more, and with every inch growing deeper inside you, you find it hard to breathe, and sukuna notices.
He leans down and whispers deeply into your ear
"breathe my dear."
you listen to him and take deep breaths. In one particular deep breath, sukuna takes it upon himself to completely push the other half of his cock into you, getting it done in one swift motion just as you breathe out.
His actions cause you to scream in pain,,, and in pleasure. More tears fall from your eyes. Sukuna doesn't even give you time to adjust this go around, he just can't wait any longer.
"fuck, takin' my cocks' so well, you're so fuckin' tight, couldn't help myself" Sukuna says into your ear.
Your ass feels so tight as he thrusts in and out of both your stretched holes. the pain subsides into pleasure after a couple strokes and your painful hisses turn into sickening moans.
The sound of skin slapping echos off the walls of your dark room, the only light source being the moonlight shining through your window. Your pussy feels like it's going to burst every time sukuna's dicks thrust back inside you.
Sukuna's grip on your bed frame is so tight, the wood crumbles in his hand
"fuck" He curses under his breath
He needs to grip onto something, anything, so he decided to harshly grip the sheets that lay right next to your head. He looks from your face, down to your pussy where he sees his cocks move in and out of you, stretching you so beautifully.
When he looks back up at you, your teary, half lidded eyes lock onto his. You dont break eye contact, even as you moan out his name like a chant that dances off your tongue straight into his ears. And he loves it.
Your walls squeeze his dick's like you're trying to milk him dry. He's even surprised both of them fit inside you.... as if he didn't literally force them to fit.
"Please please let me touch you, just wan' touch please kuna' please" you moan out, begging him to let go of your arms. Much to his objection, he lets you go.
Your arms instantly wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as you pull your bodies closer together. Your boobs press up against his broad chest as your sweat rubs into his skin.
Two of his arms hold his body up on his forearms above your head now, the other is pinning your stomach to the bed, the feeling of his dick entering and exiting your pussy being felt through your tummy.
his last free hand finds its way to the small of your back, his arm wrapping around your body and pressing you somehow closer against his. Your face is directly into his chest as you moan and scream out his name as his thrusts become wicked and fast, his hips snapping against yours. Your legs spread out for him to take advantage of you.
Sukuna looks down at you buried into his chest, his body hot and sweaty. Your nails scratching daggers into his back, you're pretty sure you can feel blood under your fingernails.
With each thrust inside you, your moans are choked and jagged and it's hard to breathe. The coil in your tummy is about to burst and you feel like you could explode from just how full you really were. Everything was too much, yet so perfect. Sukuna felt as if he was going to burst too, everything was so hot and wet, it was only driving him even more insane.
Your screams grew louder with each stroke of his cocks, signaling to sukuna that you were close.
"want me to come inside you? full you up and breed you like a dumb fuckin whore, turn you into a mommy?" He asks you, and all you can do is shake your head.
"you're gonna take my cum weather you want to or not, understand? Fill you up so nice nd' warm" He bares his teeth as you scream his name..
"no, no please dont I can't handle it, too full please k-una!" He doesn't like this answer, and it causes him to groan through his teeth. With a set of his arms, he grips your waist harshly, and with the other, he's stabilizing himself on the bed above you and sits up slightly.
"I dont care what you want, you're gonna take whatever I give you." he says before pulling his cocks out and flipping you onto your tummy. Your yelp of surprise is cut short as your hands grip at the sheets above you, trying to pull your body up and away from the monster.
"ah ah ah, dont run away from me, im nowhere close to being done with you." Sukuna stands up at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge where he stands. He lets go of your ankles and roughly grips your hips, pulling you up and slightly into the air. He forces your knees down into the mattress, your ass up and your face in your sheets. His hands remain on your hips as another one of his hands finds a handful of your hair, gripping and pulling your head upwards and next to his chest, forcing you into a painful arch.
Sukuna bends over so his face is next to your ear. His long tongue licks your neck, and up to the lobe of your ear just before he bites it, your moan in exchange.
"now shut up and let me ruin you" is all he says before forcing your face down into your sheets, one of his hands pressing your head down into the mattress.
Sukuna thrusts his cocks into your holes once more, resulting in a muffled scream coming out of your mouth, but he doesn't move. his hips flush against your ass. Sukuna lifts one hand from your hips and lands a harsh smack on your ass, leaving your skin red. Your walls tighten around his cocks.
so he does it again
and again
and again
over and over and over until you're creaming all over his cock and squirting all over your bed once more with more muffled screams.
"pathetic. squirting all over my cock with just a few slaps to your ass. how disgusting could you possibly get?" He mocks you again, landing one more painful slap to your ass as your liquids drip down your thighs and onto the mattress below you. He grabs the flesh of your ass with both of his hands and slowly pulls his dicks out of you, the empty felling in your tummy has you begging for him to fill you back up.
sukuna's face twists into one of interest as he hears your whines of protest.
"oh? what a little slut I have on my hands. and here I thought you truly didn't want me to tear you apart" he says as he thrusts his cocks deep back inside you, hitting your sweet spot that has you squealing ever so loudly. Your hands above your head painfully grip the sheets, your nails digging into your palms drawing blood. His thrusts are endless and with each one, he grows deeper inside of you. He uses one of his hands and rakes his nails down your back, scratching at your skin. It was a painfully blissful feeling that had your walls squeezing his cocks so tight, it causes sukuna to curse under his breath.
With a chuckle, he says
"you're so fukin' tight, im gonna fill you up so full, so swollen with my baby, you'll forever be marked as mine, you'd like that huh?" of course sukuna was lying, he would never ever want to reproduce, but the way you're milking his cocks is making him reconsider his entire opinion on that subject.
His thrusts grow faster and stronger, your pussy and ass flutter around his dicks so prettily, he can see it whenever he looks at your holes. You moan his name over and over again, like it's the only thing you know how to say.
The knot in your abdomen kept getting tighter and tighter every time he hit your sweet spot, you were so close to finishing and all you could do is yearn for sukuna to carry you to the finish line. So that's exactly what he did.
The hand holding your head down into the mattress disappeared, so you turned your head to the side, resting your cheek against the mattress, your eyes find his and oh fuck
oh good god
sukuna lost it
he threw his head back with a loud moan and tightened his grip on your hips so intensely he felt your skin break from under him, his nails digging into your flesh as blood ran down your legs, pooling on the sheets, staining his fingertips.
You had a puddle of drool where your face lays. your lips were bleeding from biting down on them so roughly, and your eyes. oh fuck your eyes were so perfect. it was as if sukuna could read a whole book just by looking into your eyes.
Just as he was about to finish, you came all over him once more, wetting the bed, soaking it really. Your walls fluttered all around him like the butterflies in your stomach. as you came, sukuna shot warm ropes of cum straight into your ass and tummy, so full it was leaking out of both your holes. but it wasn't enough.
It wasn't enough for sukuna.
In the middle of both your orgasms, he resumed his thrusts, but your body gave out and you collapsed on the mattress, your stomach hitting the wet bedding.
your body couldn't move, you became putty in his hands and you had no complaints.
sukuna cursed as he crawled over you, his dicks never leaving your walls. one of his arms snaked its way under your arm to grip your throat, another one held your tummy, another spread your legs enough for him to continue fucking you, and the last one held him up.
His hips met your asscheeks in a monsteristic rhythm, a burning sensation beginning to form on your flesh. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your jaw layed slack open, drool running down your chin.
he was fucking his cum into you, making your soul intertwine with his in more ways than one. He fucked you through your next and final orgasm, your legs shook involuntarily as your guys' mixed cum got everywhere. it dripped down sukuna's cock, onto the mattress, between your thighs, onto his abdomen, all over your asscheeks, it was everywhere.
Your eyes closed, even as his thrusts continued, your mind faded away from your body and before you fully lost consciousness, you could hear sukuna's words ring through your ears.
"Ill see you soon, y/n."
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 22 days ago
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What they do while you get ready (Scenario)
TF-141 as your boyfriends
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Simon "Ghost" Riley who's the type of boyfriend to love watching you do your makeup, your hair rolled up in the curlers while you finish up putting on some lip gloss. You'd look back once in a while to see him staring intently. He definitely plans more date nights out where he knows you like the food. Adores it when you leave kiss marks but would grunt and try to hide it, you know he loves it, he can never hide the slight lifting of the corner of his eyes. He doesn't have the heart to wipe it off unless you tell him to. His heart warms up whenever he sees an elder couple, hoping that one day, that would be you two.
John Price who's the type of boyfriend to be absolutely clueless about makeup but is extremely competent when you ask him to get something. He's a little ashamed to be asking the salesladies for anything the first time but would grow accustomed and finds that it makes it much easier. Genuinely loves buying things he thinks would look good on you and see you try it on. Like Ghost, he likes it when you leave lipstick marks, specifically in darker colors that pop against the skin of his neck. Doesn't care if his knees would give out, he'd help you put on your heels, kissing your knee before he does.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick who is the type of boyfriend to hype you up, he has a sassy mouth so expect him to give you the biggest hype anyone can ever do. He's also a go-with-the-flow kind of lover, he wasn't into skincare but was into a little haircare before you but now whenever you do your skincare, he joins in. The type of man to tease and laugh at you for wearing a clay mask then sulk if you put it on him too. He kisses you even if you whine and say you just put on lipgloss, promising to buy you more if you let him kiss off the rest. He helps you style your hair especially if you curly it.
John "Soap" MacTavish who is the type of boyfriend to be going in completely blind when it comes to anything that's on your vanity, but the thing is, he's willing to learn and hear you so passionately talk about what oxidizing is, cool and warm tone and other things you've said. He has this sketchbook dedicated only to sketches and art of you, his muse. He finds himself making them while you're doing your makeup, a peaceful pastime while his girl is dolling up. His favorite sketch of you was you with hair curlers messily clipped up in your hair while you put the last touch of lipgloss on your lips.
A/n: Hello my loves, guess who's back? 😉
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @poohkie90 @drewsmusee @aleixis @yveevie
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heedeungism · 1 month ago
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𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.
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•°. *࿐ 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 ; coming soon
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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.
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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.”
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“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.”
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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
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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part two. COMING SOON!
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©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.
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suguann · 7 months ago
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✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]
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You like your new roommate.
Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 
He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 
He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.
Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.
“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 
Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”
He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”
The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 
You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.
A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 
His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?
(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.
If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)
For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.
“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.
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You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 
It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.
When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.
Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 
The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
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You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.
It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.
Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.
"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."
"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."
His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.
"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."
There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 
A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 
No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.
He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.
“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”
You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.
“Answer me.”
An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 
He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 
“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”
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