#one time i like.. grabbed a girl's face without realizing it

[nottslove]

THE OTHER GUYS (part two) → part one.

Pairing: theo nott x malfoy reader

Warnings: VERY VERY LONG!!!!! 18+, mdni, smut, some fluff, a bit of angst, draco's little sister, brother's bsf, mean theo, dirty talk, oral, m. receiving, choking, gagging, heavy cursing, drug use (theo smoking), corruption kink, degrading, praising, google-translated italian, porn with plot, obsessive/possessive theo, innocent reader, inexperienced reader x very experienced theo, lowercaps intended. SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!

Summary: theo goes back to ignoring you at hogwarts, and you have no idea why, so this time, you find another way to grab his attention...

Author's note: this is a part two to the other girls→ part one. i would recommend reading part one, but if you don't, that's okay too. i decided to write a part two to this since a lot of people asked me to, and as a big, big thank you for 900+ notes on part one. so, thank you so much guys!! i hope you enjoy this.

THEODORE Nott was an asshole. You had come to realize that the hard way. All your life, you had loved him, put him on a pedestal, making excuses for his faults and habits, your love for him completely blinding you from seeing anything else but perfection.

Not anymore. Ever since the little moment you shared at Christmas, he had been completely ignoring you. Not even like before, where he'd give you a little nod or greeting.

No, he pretended like you didn't even exist.

Any time you'd approach him, he'd walk right past you, pretending you were invisible. And when you began following him around, trying to get his attention, you heard one of his friends ask him why you were suddenly following him around.

"Looks like you've got yourself an admirer," Mattheo jested, pointing to your figure trailing behind Theo's. "I think Malfoy's little sister's got a crush on you..."

"What a fucking baby," he drawled arrogantly, making all his friends laugh when he rudely told you to leave him alone and stop following him around. "Go away, Baby Malfoy, and stop fucking stalking me. It's creepy."

His friends howled with laughter— it was a good thing Draco wasn't there, or else he would have beaten Theo to the pulp.

Your eyes welled up as you stood there frozen, unable to move. Your gray eyes filled with tears, and your lips puckered into a pout. The red, hot sensation of humiliation coursed through your veins, and your fingers began to tremble slightly.

Your blonde curls framed your face perfectly, and you wore a white, pleated skirt and a baby pink button-up sweater, which made you look like a doll— especially with your proper, white, thigh-high stockings you wore underneath, paired with your rose-gold pumps.

"Aww, look Nott, you made her cry," Berkshire commented, noticing the way the tears balanced in your eyes.

Theo moved closer to you, his tall frame towering over yours as he looked into your eyes with his merciless, dark blue ones.

"Poor Baby Malfoy," Theo scoffed. "Such a fucking cry-baby... Can't even take a fucking joke."

His friends guffawed, making you feel worse, and a tear spilled down your cheek as you glared at Theo with as much hatred as you could muster.

"I hate you," you said quietly, loud enough for only Theo to hear your words, before you sniffled and wiped your tears with the back of your hand. "Don't you dare ever come near me again."

And without waiting for Theo's witty retort, you turned on your heel and walked away, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.

You meant it. Every word.

No longer were you going to make excuses for his bad behavior— it was time for you to move on.

Sure, you had loved Theo since you were three, but he was no longer the same person.

Seasons change, and so do people.

Still, his public rejection stung, deflating your ego by a sizeable chunk.

Now you didn't care about Theo's attention any more. You had given him your time, attention and love, and he had rejected it, ridiculing you and embarrassing you in front of all his friends.

But once things mulled over, and you tried to force your feelings for Theo away, you realized things weren't that easy.

You still loved him.

It wasn't possible to get rid of feelings that had manifested in you for years and years, growing with time instead of fading away.

And Theo??

Well, he'd continued his life as if your feelings meant nothing to him. As if you meant nothing to him.

It exasperated you. It hurt you.

Watching him hang around with several different girls every day, pretending you did not exist.

As the approaching Hogsmeade weekend drew nearer, you found yourself constantly being asked out by other guys.

You rejected the first two, wanting to go out only with Theo, and no one else.

And then it hit you.

Why were you moping over someone who didn't care if you existed or not??

You were the only one losing out.

And so, when the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain asked you out, you said yes, desperate to drive a particular Slytherin with dark blue eyes away from your mind.

But that wasn't your only intention. Perhaps a small part of you said yes to Roger Davies was so that Theo would notice you, and feel an ounce of the jealousy you felt when you saw him with other girls.

Roger was the perfect gentleman. He held doors open for you, gave you his jacket even though you told him you weren't too cold, pulled out your chair for you, paid for your meal, and even kept his arm respectfully at your waist.

There was just one problem.

He wasn't Theo.

All throughout your date, your gaze would slide away to Theo, looking at the two girls that sat on either side of him in a cozy booth, with his hands possessively at their hips, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

He, of course, was so enamored with his harlots, as you liked to call them, that he paid no attention to you and Roger.

And even when he spotted Roger walking you back, he said nothing.

And though you'd describe your date as perfect in every other aspect, when Roger asked you if you would like to hang out a second time, you told him you would think about it.

But there was no thinking about it. It was evident, Theo was the only one you wanted.

Roger was the guy you deserved, the guy who deserved you, who made you feel like a queen, a princess.

He just wasn't Theo.

The next morning, you were completely surprised to see Roger unharmed.

It confused you, seeing as normally, Theo would beat up every boy who would ask you out.

It irked you, why he hadn't touched Roger, though you felt like a horrible person wishing for a perfect gentleman like Roger to get beaten up for no reason.

Whilst you watched Theo from afar, moving on with his life, you realized he simply didn't care.

And so, when the next Hogsmeade visit came around, Roger asked you out again, and you agreed, this time, fully intending to enjoy yourself with Roger.

With that open mindset, you realized he was a wonderful person. He was smart, funny, entertaining and handsome— perfect.

You enjoyed your second date a lot more, and slowly, you found yourself opening your doors to the idea of falling for Roger.

For Valentine's day, he even sent you a bouquet of the most exotic flowers, a mix of both tropical and garden flowers.

The old you would have cast a glance towards the Slytherin table, trying to see Theo's reaction, but the new you didn't care.

Your eyes locked with Roger's across the Great Hall, and he winked at you, causing you to blush, giggle and smile.

Little did you know, this little, sweet exchange had been caught by Theo's dark blue eyes.

The only reason you were dating Roger now was because Theo hadn't landed that bastard in the Hospital wing, and he hadn't done this because he never saw Roger Davies as a real threat.

However, when his eyes caught the way you blushed and giggled when the fucktard had winked, he knew he had to step in before your feelings for the Ravenclaw grew.

You had zero knowledge of Theo's plan. In fact, you had almost forgotten about the Slytherin completely, you found yourself daydreaming about Roger quite often.

You could say that you had begun to catch feelings for the Quidditch Captain. After all, who wouldn't?

He was perfect. In every, single way.

This time, it was you who asked Roger if he would like to go to Hogsmeade with you, and he laughed.

"I thought it was obvious that we were going together.." he chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Oh," you replied, feeling rather dumb.

"Merlin, you're so cute," the older wizard replied, gently kissing your nose. "I'll pick you up in the courtyard at five, alright?"

You were there at the courtyard, beside the fountain ten minutes to five.

And when five rolled around, Roger was nowhere to be seen.

Still, you waited for a little longer, wondering if something had perhaps held him up.

At six, still no Roger.

You didn't know what forced you to stay outside, perhaps you lost track of time, or perhaps you accepted the reality that Roger had stood you up.

You waited until after dark.

It started raining.

Your spirits had been dampened along with your clothes. All the effort you had taken to get ready— gone.

You could barely distinguish between the tears on your face and the rainwater that had drenched you.

It was dinner time, but you weren't hungry for anything but answers— why had Roger stood you up??

You got your answer when you were face to face with your unconscious boyfriend after Luna Lovegood led you to the hospital wing.

He was injured— badly. He had a black eye, a split lip and bruises all over his face, neck and hands. Madam Pomfrey also informed you that he sported three broken ribs and a cracked jaw.

Roger awoke the next morning. When you heard the news, you instantly rushed to the Hospital Wing, to check on him, ask him if he was alright.

You didn't expect him to break up with you.

"But, why?" you asked softly, you lower lip jutting out into a pout as your eyes began to water.

It had hurt. So fucking much.

"I'm really sorry... You're an amazing girl, and I really, really like you, but I don't want to end up here again... Nott said if I come near you again, he'd kill me.."

You froze.

"He said what?" your throat was dry, your voice hoarse— you simply couldn't believe your ears.

"Excuse me, I'm going to have a word with him!" you said angrily, filled with sudden rage from an unknown source.

With that, you stormed off.

As usual, you found Theo and his friends in their usual hangout spot, the dungeons, outside the common room, where they all got together and smoked.

Before he could notice your arrival, let alone say anything, you barged past his friends and raised your hand, connecting your palm with his cheek.

A satisfying smack sounded, and the tips of your fingers burned— you really had slapped him hard.

His friends oohed and aahed, and Theo shot them all a glare, rendering them silent.

"Fuck off," he told his friends, making a dismissing signal with two of his fingers, and you softened slightly, remembering how he had touched you with those fingers, how he had curled them to reach that spot that made you see stars.

However, with the way he shrugged, looking absolutely unbothered, all your anger for him suddenly came back.

"I hate you!" you growled, lifting your hand again to slap him, trying to get a rise out of him, a reaction— anything!

Before her palm connected with his face, Theo's quick reflexes ensured his fingers clasped around you wrist firmly, stopping your movements.

"Is there a reason for this sudden loss of temperament, Doll?" he drawled, drawing out a breath that was polluted with cigarette smoke.

"Why'd you do that to Roger?" you asked, wrenching your hand away from his grasp, your jaw clenched.

You didn't know what you were expecting, in all honesty, but it surely wasn't Theo acknowledging his mistake and apologizing.

Of course, he played clueless. Leaning back, he slouched against the wall, taking a drag of his cigarette and letting out a puff of smoke that made you cough.

"You'll need to be more specific, Baby," Theo drawled, gently rubbing your cheek with the back of his ringed fingers.

You hated the effect he had on you. You hated the fact that you became putty the moment he laid a single finger on you.

This time, you didn't cave in— you knew his game.

"Don't fucking touch me!" you hissed, slapping his hand away, though the echoes of his touch still lingered. "Why did you beat Roger up? What did he ever do to you?"

Theo's jaw clenched, obviously with the way you seemed so intent on fighting for Roger.

"I'm protecting you," Theo remarked. "As your older brother's best friend— you don't know what kind of guy he is..."

"Oh, and you do?" you asked, placing your hands on your hips. "Enlighten me, Nott, what kind of guy is Roger?"

The Nott boy only seemed more enraged by your question; it was evident in the way his nostrils flared the slightest bit, and how he held on to the cigarette with slight aggression...

"He's only using you. You don't see it, but he just wants to get in your pants," Theo seethed, taking a step closer to you and towering over your presence with his tall, dominating figure. "He wants to claim your virginity, like he's done with so many other girls before."

Theo's words hit you like a tidal wave. This time, your hand lifted up by its own accord and slapped Theo across the face again, and you felt the tips of your ears heat up with the anger that flooded through you.

"And you don't?" you found yourself biting back, unsure of where this newfound courage came from. "You think you're any different? Using me to get your dick hard then ignoring me for months?"

Your voice was hoarse as you laid the blatant truth out there, and your anger had turned to sadness and betrayal, and most of all— hurt. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you didn't relent. You continued to stare at Theo with utter hatred in your eyes.

But you were oblivious to his stares, to the way his fists balled up until the veins in his forearms protruded.

You kept on speaking, laying out all your feelings, once and for all, tears spilling down your pretty cheeks.

"Roger has never once placed a hand below my waist, never once made me feel unwanted, never, never, never—" you continued, your voice breaking slightly, as you spoke, overwhelmed by all the emotion.

"You just had to go and ruin my fucking life, the moment I started to fall for him—"

At this, a small sob slipped past your lips. You liked this guy, you really, really liked him, and Theo had ruined it all for you.

Theo's gaze had darkened the moment you said these words, and it was his turn to launch into a monologue.

"If I can't fucking have you, then no one else can," he growled darkly, pressing you to the wall and domineering himself over you, casting a shadow on your petite frame. "Are we fucking clear?"

You weakly pushed him away, his words causing your knees to buckle slightly as all the fight left you.

"You don't want me— you made that clear enough already," you accused, your voice cracking as you try to dodge out of his grasp. "And I should have seen it earlier, but I was just too blinded by my love for you!" your voice grows slightly higher in pitch, and you didn't realize what you'd just said until it was too late.

Realization flickered in Theo's dark blue gaze for a brief moment, before it faded away.

"You think I don't fucking want you?" he replied hoarsely, sounding far too pained by the way he was the cause for your tears, for your despair, when he had spent the brunt of his Hogwarts years hitting everyone who had ever hurt you behind your back.

"You think it was fucking easy?? Having to hear your pretty little moans when you came all over my fucking hand, and not being able to do more?" he growled, grabbing your jaw in his one hand and upturning it slightly, forcing you to look at him.

You stood frozen, not knowing where he was going with this. "You think I enjoy it, watching Roger touch what's mine?"

A tear spilled down your cheeks as you stifled a sob, but you said nothing, too frozen in place to do anything but listen to his words.

"Ever since Christmas...." he breathed, releasing your jaw, caging you in between his arms as he leaned in closer to you, until you could smell his aftershave. "Ever since Christmas, I've been trying to get that image of you out of my mind... Spread all over my lap as you drench my fucking fingers— moaning my name..."

You visited that night frequently too, when you had your fingers between your thighs at night, getting yourself off whilst imagining Theo's dark, intense stare.

He held in a sharp intake of breath, shaking his head. "Wanna know how I jerk off to that image every, single fucking night? How I imagine being the first to fill that pretty, little hole of yours?"

His words awakened all the previous feelings you had for him, and you found yourself shivering slightly as you clenched your thighs together, feeling your panties dampen slightly.

If Theo noticed, he didn't say a word— he was still continuing to speak. "Been thinking about you nonstop, since that night," he confessed, his voice taking up a low, dulcet tone as he leaned in, nose brushing your neck as he inhaled your scent. "About how you'd look, spread all over my bed as you moan my fucking name," he rumbled.

You let out a small whimper at his words, pressing your lips together, and you could feel his words affecting you as the slick between your thighs grew.

Him being so close didn't help either.

"But I can't have you, Doll," he breathed, lips dipping slightly to brush against your neck as you felt him inhale again. "Your brother would kill me... That's why I had to ignore you, make you hate me so you'd stop following me around, stop looking at me with hopeful eyes..." He paused, and his expression looked pained, like he couldn't bear to confess his thoughts and feelings.

"But then you got with that other guy, and God.... seeing you with Davies was fucking hard— at first, I tried to convince myself he was the right choice for you, but I couldn't do it— I was too fucking selfish to let anyone else have you..."

You felt the tears spill down your cheeks and you suppressed a small sob, at the rush of emotions that flooded through you at his admissions.

"You're a coward," you accused him, your voice laced with a slight whine. "And you made me feel like it was my fault— all because you didn't have the fucking courage to be a man—"

Those words were Theo's breaking point, and you heard him growl. He didn't let you finish as he dragged you to the nearest empty classroom and locked the door, away from prying eyes and nosy stares.

"Didn't have the fucking courage to be a man, huh?" Theo echoed, mocking your previous words as he towered over you, firmly gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

You took a step back, your back colliding with the door as you met his gaze. The soft look in his eyes was gone, replaced by a glare that questioned your audacity to question his masculinity.

He wasn't thrilled. You always, always managed to get on his nerves, whether it was with your mouth, or with some outfit you donned, that always made you look so fucking adorable.

"I'll have you know, I'm more of a man than that stupid Ravenclaw of yours will ever be," he rumbled, and the look in his eyes told you he was fucking pissed.

"I don't think so," you hissed, turning around and fidgeting with the lock of the door, trying to open it and escape the prison Theo had put you in.

He harshly grabbed your arm and turned you around, until your back collided with the door as he glared at you, jaw clenched, placing a hand on either side, effectively caging you in with no escape. "No, no, not gonna work like that, Doll— you're not going anywhere..."

You could feel your teeth clap together as you stared at him angrily, yet at the same time, the tips of your ears turned red, and the sinking feeling in your stomach told you that you were trapped.

"Not until you let me prove exactly how much better I am than Davies..."

You crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to listen to him. It was at this point that you could see exactly how manipulative he was, trying to keep you tethered to him, refusing to you to love anyone else but him, yet not giving you any love in return.

"I can give you a few points," you replied cattily, your words aiming to wound him just as much as he had hurt you. "One, he isn't a coward. Two, he knows what he wants. Three—"

Theo didn't let you get to three.

Before you began speaking, he had already snapped his hips forward, and a surprised gasp left you as he quickly wrapped a hand around your neck, announcing that he was clearly the one in control in this room and asserting his dominance.

"Three, he has a much smaller dick," Theo snapped abruptly, driving his hips forwards slightly, rutting into you so you could feel exactly how big he was, how hard he was underneath his trousers.

You could feet his bulge pressing into your stomach, right above your core, where you needed it the most.

Nott took advantage of your momentarily shocked state to dip his head low, until his lips brushed against your ear.

"You feel that, Doll? See how big it is? It's gonna fucking ruin you..." he rumbled, rolling his lips slightly forward, making you whimper slightly as you clenched your thighs.

You said nothing, your eyes fluttering shut as you bit your lip to silence your tiny, desperate whines.

A cruel chuckle left his lips at your silence, which only fueled his enjoyment.

"Cat got your tongue?" he drawled, his ringed fingers sliding underneath your skirt and gripping the back of your thigh, cold rings searing into your warm skin.

"Where's the fucking smart mouth of yours?" he mocked, teeth grazing against your collarbone, eliciting a small moan from you as his cologne and aftershave flooded your senses.

His words triggered a sudden urge in you to prove him wrong. "Fuck you," you spat.

That was all it took for his hand to grip your throat and force you down to your knees, leaving no room for arguments or protests.

You gasped, too stunned to to anything but remain frozen to the floor, in utter shock.

"Let's put that pretty little mouth to better use," he grunted, using his hand on your neck to bring you closer, causing your nose to collide with his groin. "Show me what a good girl you can be and maybe, just maybe I'll reward you..."

You knew what he was asking for. But your blood tingled with nervousness, and your mouth ran dry.

You had no idea how to do this— you'd never done it before.

And Theo knew. Still, he looked at you with mock surprise, dark blue gaze boring into you, as if he were waiting for you to say something to challenge his authority.

"Is something the matter, Doll?" he drawled, playing clueless to your inexperience.

Theo was in control here, he was pulling every string, and you knew it.

You nodded, looking up at him, heat pooling in your stomach. "I d-don't— I've never... I don't know how—"

You were stuttering, so nervous.

Panic filled you at the situation you had gotten yourself into, staring up at Theo with your wide, silvery eyes and perfectly pouty, glossed lips.

He chuckled softly, and for a moment, brief tenderness flickered in his dark blue gaze.

Well, since you used your words and asked so nicely..." he trailed off, rubbing your cheek with the back of his hand. "I'll go easy on you just this once, Principessa, since it's your first time..."

You swallowed thickly, every touch of his driving you insane. It irked you, how one moment he could be so mean and cruel, and the next, he was all sweet smiles and soft caresses.

"Take my pants off," he instructed, slight affection lacing his tone.

You looked up at him, for a brief moment before your hands drifted up on their own, fingers unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zip, which was rather difficult seeing as his pants were completely stretched out by the size of his hardened girth.

"Good girl," he praised, thumb pressing softly against your lower lip. "Now the boxers."

The soft pad of his thumb smudged your lip gloss, as your fingers hooked around the waistband of his boxers, and your mouth ran dry as you slowly began tugging them down, trembling slightly with nervousness.

A hitch blistered in your throat when you saw Theo's dick for the first time, and Merlin— he wasn't kidding when he said it would fucking ruin you.

It sprang free from his boxers, slapping against his stomach and making him emit a quiet hiss from his lips. Beads of precum slid down the veiny length to his balls, and you were rendered speechless once more, your mouth completely dry.

Your dumbfounded expression only caused Theo to chuckle softly, gently patting the side of your face with his hand.

"Who knew, all it took was a little dick to keep that pretty little mouth quiet, hmm?" he muttered. "Per me è una vera sgualdrina…"

His large hand wrapped around his girth, and he gave his cock a few pumps quietly hissing in pleasure.

"Take me in your hands now, come on, Principessa, don't be shy..." he cooed, encouraging you to relax for him a little.

You nodded, tentatively bringing your one hand to wrap around the base of his length, clenching your thighs when he moaned loudly, not even hiding his desire for you.

"Fuck— proprio così..." he rasped, and you could feel him throbbing in your hand, as you slowly ran your fingers down his length, tracing over his every vein.

He guided the tip to your lips, slowly dragging the pink flesh across your plump lips, causing your lip gloss to smudge and mingle with his precum.

"Apri la bocca, open up that pretty mouth for me, Doll—" he murmured, and his other hand flew to the back of your neck as he led your head closer, rings pressing into your warm skin and causing you to shiver.

As you looked up at him, you could see the quiet traces of pleasure that laced his features as he guided his cock to your mouth, and you suddenly had the unwavering urge to please him, make him forget all those other girls.

Your lips parted, and the slightly salty taste of his precum grazed against your tongue as the tip of his dick filled your mouth.

"Good girl," he praised, tapping your cheek twice, "wrap those pretty lips around me— fuck, just like that..."

Once you got used to having him in your mouth, your tongue lightly traced over the tip of his lick, causing him to nearly buck his hips into your mouth.

"Now suck—" he grunted. "Fuck Doll, it's not gonna fit, use both hands..."

You brought both your hands to grip the base of his cock as you slowly began so suck, your pinky finger grazing against his balls, drawing out his pleasure.

Curses spewed from his lips in both English and Italian, which only fueled you to do better, and you pressed your head further down, trying to take more of him into your mouth.

As you sucked, your tongue pressed against the sensitive underside of his cock, and Theo was doing everything in his power to hold himself back from losing control and mercilessly fucking your mouth.

"Shit— shit, baby girl— doing so fucking well— you look so Goddamn perfect with my cock filling your pretty little mouth—" he groaned, fist tightening in your hair as he rutted his hips into your mouth, causing the tip of his cock to press against the back of your throat.

You gagged, tears springing to your eyes, and the sight was enough to make Theo almost cum in your mouth.

"Now bob your head, up and down, just like that," he instructed, using the hand at the back of your neck and his grip on your hair to guide your movements before allowing you to resume control.

Saliva dribbled down your chin in masses, and tears streamed down your cheeks with every time his cock hit the back of your throat. You choked and gagged, and every little sound you made was driving Theo insane.

Sweat beaded at your forehead, and your baby hairs clung to your brow, and you slid your teary gaze up to meet his eyes, and that was the moment Theo died internally.

He had thought of you so many times like this, touched himself at the thought of branding you as his personal slut, his personal fucktoy.

He had longed to cover your pretty little tongue with his thick seed, fill that mouth of yours, and this sight before him was a dream come true.

"Fuck— fuck— Doll, I'm so close," he rasped, bucking his lips into your mouth involuntarily, causing you to gag again, and another wad of saliva slid down your chin and dripped down your neck. "Doing so good—"

He had lost all ability to even look at the sight before him, head thrown back against the wall with a soft thud, eyes closed tightly, his stomach rising and falling with his irregular breathing.

He couldn't concentrate on anything except your warm, wet mouth around his cock, bringing him closer to release and sending his mental state into spirals.

"I'm gonna cum inside your mouth," he warned you, but you didn't relent. "Cazzo, cazzo, Principessa— mi ucciderai..."

Before you knew it, his thighs shook slightly, and the salty taste of his cum hit your tongue, as he filled his mouth with your seed.

He shivered as your cheeks stretched slightly, accumulating his release before they emptied, and a sharp moan of desire left his lips when you swallowed as much as you could, the rest dripping down your chin.

He pulled his dick out with a soft pop, but you didn't let go, not yet. You licked your lips, and ran your tongue across the length of his cock, cleaning every bit of the sinful mess the two of you created.

He tried to calm down, to regulate his breathing, and once he composed himself, he instantly pulled up his pants, sliding his belt back into place.

Then, he crouched down to where you were on the floor, still on your knees, eyes closed and trying to breathe evenly, trying to ignore your obvious need for him between your thighs.

You opened your eyes when you felt Theo softly hold on to your shoulders.

"Are you okay, Baby girl?" he murmured softly, using his tie to slowly wipe the mess on your chin and neck, lips softly brushing against your forehead. "God— you did so well for me, looked so fucking pretty on your knees for me—"

You nodded, basking in the golden glory of his praise, letting him pamper you just a little. His hands straightened your clothes out, and your hair, with tender touches, and you were surprised to see this side of Theo that came out just for you, and only for you.

His large hands softly cupped your cheeks as he made you look into his eyes, searching for any signs of injury or discomfort.

"Can I kiss you, pretty girl?" he breathed softly, his nose brushing against yours.

You nodded, and his lips connected with yours, engaging you in a liplock that was both passionate and lustful, his lips worshipping yours and causing you to let out a soft moan.

Theo softly chuckled once more, hand drifting to your inner thigh, underneath your skirt.

"You need me, Doll?" he whispered huskily, fingers gently grazing over your sensitive folds over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties, causing you to let out a soft whimper.

He kissed you again, helping you to your feet, allowing you to grip him for balance. His lips brushed against yours ever so softly.

"You deserve a reward for that, did so fucking good," he promised, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears. "How about you go freshen up, and I'll see you tonight outside the room of requirement, hmm?

"Okay," you murmured, clearing your throat as the blush on your features grew darker.

And as you opened the door, you heard Theo's voice call after you.

"And don't hang out with other guys..."

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[jistarss]

you’re an idiot.. ; park sunghoon

pairing ! nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis ! you’re secretly in love with your best friend and one day he asks you for advice on girls.

genre ! fluff, best friend au, best friends to lovers

warnings ! none!

a/n ! not proofread!!

you were sitting in the living room of your apartment, cuddled up in some blankets while watching your favorite movie.

the buzzing from your phone caused you to stop what you were doing so you could see who was texting you.

you picked up your phone, reading the name that popped up on your screen. it was your best friend, sunghoon.

you let out a sigh thinking he’s probably texting you about something stupid, bracing yourself before opening the text

you stared at the messages, trying to process what just happened. it felt like your brain didn’t want to accept the fact that the boy you liked could be going on a date.

deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. he didn’t know you liked him and you wanted to keep it that way, not wanting to lose your best friend.

you just wanted him to be happy and if he found a girl he likes then you’re happy for him. you look down at your hands, noticing them shaking slightly.

you took some deep breaths while trying to distract yourself from thinking about the boy.

you grab the remote to your tv, deciding to finish watching your movie.

you blinked back the tears in your eyes that threatened to fall, trying to focus on your movie.

unfortunately, you couldn’t help but think about sunghoon and the date he could be going on.

you placed your hand on your chest as you start to feel a tightening sensation. you didn’t want to think about him, but you couldn’t help it.

it wasn’t fair for you to be feeling like this, to wish it was you going out with him instead of another girl. he was probably happy— having a good time and that’s all you wanted for him. even if it wasn’t with you.

you wipe the tears that fall as you lay down on your couch, the feeling in your chest not going away. you closed your eyes while broken sobs continued to leave your body.

you realize you accidentally fell asleep when you woke up to your phone vibrating. you sit up, grabbing your phone as you read the notifications.

when you saw that it was sunghoon you immediately opened the texts, wanting to know how the date went.

you felt horrible. you wanted to be happy for him but you just couldn’t. it’s been a few days since the day and you’ve been distancing yourself from sunghoon.

he tried to talk to you about how the date went ever since he went on it but you made up different excuses on how you were too busy.

you were currently sitting in your living room, scrolling on your phone trying to order food. after finally ordering your food you scrolled on tiktok while waiting.

after a few minutes you heard a knock on your door. ‘that was fast’ you thought as you jumped up and ran to your door, your stomach letting out a loud rumble in the process.

you open the door, expecting to see the delivery driver but instead you were met with the face of your best friend.

“sunghoon?” you stutter out, “what are you doing here,” you question.

“we need to talk, it’s important.” you tense up. you really didn’t want to hear about how his date went but he was already there.

you move to the left, opening the door wider so he could step in. he immediately walks towards your living room, taking a seat on your couch.

you let out a sigh while closing the door, mentally preparing yourself for what he has to say. you walk to your couch, sitting next to him and looking down at your fingers.

“it’s about the date” he hesitates. you nod slightly, waiting for him to continue. “the girl reminds me of you” he tells you quietly and you could feel your heart drop.

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. “throughout the date she did things that you do and i would point it out without thinking” he starts

“we ended the date early ‘cause she didn’t think it would work out” he adds, taking a quick glance at you.

he hesitates a bit before speaking again, “she said it was clear that i had eyes for someone else.. i denied it but she said pointed out that i always had a smile on my face when talking about you, and how i wouldn’t notice the small things you do if i didn’t like you..” he finishes.

your mouth drops open slightly, not believing what he was saying. ‘there’s a chance he could like me back?’ you think in your head.

“it took me some time to think about it but.. i’ve realized i do like you, and i have for a while now.”

“i’m sorry for telling you this so suddenly but i just needed to get it out and i understand if you don’t like me back.” you turn to look at him, noticing the blush on his cheeks.

you let out a small laugh, watching as he tenses up at the sound. “you know what, let’s just forget about all of this im sorry i-“ you place your hand on his chin, turning his head to make him face you before you softly press your lips to his.

you break away from this kiss after a second before looking at him with a smile, “you’re rambling” you tell him softly.

he stares at you in shock, his cheeks reddening even more. “i like you too hoon, and i have for a while now” you tell him, breaking him out of his shocked state.

you watch as a smile breaks out on his face as he wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him as his other hand moves to rest on your cheek.

he leans in slightly, his lips brushing against yours before he fully leans in, kissing you again.

you break away from the kiss as you hear another knock at your door. “hungry?” you ask sunghoon as you stand up, making your way to the door.

the boy nods while getting up and walking to your kitchen, grabbing some plates so you two can eat while you grab the food from the door.

you begin to set the food out on the table, sunghoon grabs it, putting some noodles and chicken on both ot your plates before sitting down on the floor in front of the table.

you grab the remote to your tv before joining him on the floor. you play the show the both of you started watching before digging into your food.

when you finish eating you both grab your plates, walking to the kitchen to place the dishes in the sink.

after you put them in the sink you turn around, placing your hand out in front of you. sunghoon does the same before you both speak at the same time, “rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you and sunghoon always decided on who would do the dishes by playing the silly game.

you threw out a rock while the said boy threw out paper. you let out a groan while rolling your eyes.

“best out of three?” you ask. sunghoon chuckles at your question, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“you’re cute but no.” he says, walking away with a smirk on his face.

“you’re an idiot..” you mutter quietly, turning around to do the dishes.

“i heard that!” you here the boy yell out with a laugh.

[22ayla21]

Daddy's Peculiarity

Mydei always loved both of his children equally, but when his youngest daughter got fangs like his, it became obvious - she was Daddy's princess.

The evening was quiet, and the house was filled with a rare peace. After a long day full of fuss and children's pranks, the long-awaited moment of respite had finally arrived. Their son had long since fallen asleep in his room, curled up in a ball in a blanket, but the youngest daughter, although she looked tired, was in no hurry to part with wakefulness. She had settled comfortably in her mother's arms, lazily sucking on the corner of her blanket.

Mydei was sitting opposite, in a chair, with his legs stretched out and one hand on the armrest. His usually tense face was relaxed, and a rare expression of calm warmth shone in his gaze. Only here, in the family circle, did he allow himself to be like this. Watching his daughter, he felt his chest fill with something unusually warm, an almost unusual feeling for him.

And suddenly his wife laughed quietly. He raised an eyebrow, turning his gaze to her.

- What?

She covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated amusement.

- Just look, - she said, turning the baby so that her face was in the soft candlelight.

Mydei frowned, but still leaned closer. The girl yawned widely, reaching out to her mother with a small hand... and then he saw it. Two tiny fangs, barely noticeable, but already quite distinct among the other teeth.

He blinked, not immediately realizing what he saw.

- Well, well, - he muttered more quietly than usual, involuntarily lowering his head a little closer.

His wife laughed again, this time without holding back, and lightly stroked her daughter’s cheek.

- Now I understand why you spoil her so much, - she grinned, casting a sly glance at him. - She’s your exact copy.

Mydei shook his head, but the corners of his lips twitched in a slight, almost imperceptible smile. He looked at his daughter again, noting how much she really resembled him. Red hair, just like his, slightly curly. Deep golden eyes, which so far reflected only childish curiosity and innocence. And now these little fangs…

- But our son doesn’t have anything like that, - his wife continued, squinting slyly. He glanced at the door, behind which their firstborn had long since been peacefully sleeping, and thoughtfully ran his tongue over his own fangs.

- Maybe he just took more from you? - he suggested, not taking his eyes off his daughter.

- Maybe, - she admitted, shrugging, but still with the same cheerful sparkle in her eyes. - But you know… if anyone hasn’t realized yet that she’s daddy’s princess, it’s obvious now.

Mydei didn’t answer, but only looked closely at his daughter again, who was already beginning to nod off in her mother’s arms. He carefully extended his hand, and when his fingers barely touched her tiny palm, she weakly squeezed his finger in her sleep.

His wife watched this scene with a soft smile, but said nothing. Mydei, frowning, grabbed her tiny hand a little tighter, as if giving himself another second to remember this moment.

Yes, he knew it himself. She was daddy’s princess. And for her sake - for the sake of his family - he was ready to wipe into dust anyone who dared to encroach on this small, precious world that he had built with his own hands.

[81pastrys]

The Mafia’s Princess

Part 4 / 16

Summary— Shes in safe arms, but her head believes otherwise.

Warnings— mentions of SA / Rape ; stabbing ; dark themes

A/N— this one is fucking dark.

Series list

“You failed Princess.” Mr. Gasly grumbled at me. His anger showed on his face and I realized the consequences he mentioned before I had begun this hell ride of a deal. “Pick your poison little girl.” He whispered in my face.

He cupped my clothed cunt and smirked at me. I had just gotten back from jail and look disheveled. I shove him away and his guards grab me by my arms holding me upright. “You can kiss my ass Gasly.” I spit out finally towards the man. “You got me caught you sick fuck!”

The cop that pulled me over didn’t even search the car, he immediately put me in handcuffs and laughed in my face. My guards bailed me out and drove me to get my car before it could be crumbled into pieces. “Would you like to be fucked by one of my guards?” He asked enjoying the twisted expression on my face. “Or stabbed, just this once?”

“Stabbed, I’m not-“ One of his guards shoved a rag in my mouth and they sat me in a rickety wooden chair. He ripped my pant leg open with a very sharp knife. The guard looked me in the eye as he quickly shoved the knife through my thigh. My scream was muffled by the rag.

“Now, if you can ever finish my business you’ll get a hefty cut princess.”

I’m thrashed awake, my breathing irregular. Reliving getting stabbed was cruel. Charles took me into his embrace, holding me close and hushing me. “You’re safe, it’s okay.” He soothed. He held me tightly and played with my hair, knowing how to calm me down after nightmares. “Shhh mon amour, I’m here.” He reassured me in my state of fear.

My hand found its way to the scar I had just been reminded of in my sleep. I wince as Charles follows the path with me. “I’m sorry I-“ I mumble through the tears. He looks at me and wipes the tears away.

“It’s okay Mon amour, you’re with me.” He whispered. I lie awake, tracing circles on his chest as he fell back asleep. I was left to my thoughts. Hours pass by without sleep and Charles wakes. “Morning.” He mumbled, noticing I was already awake. I hum in response. No emotions present at the moment.

I have 6 scars, 2 on each leg, an extra on my left, and one near my rib. There are two on my left leg that are still fairly new, hence why Charles was so gentle with me.

“Did you get some sleep?” He groaned with tired laced within his voice. I shake my head and he caressed my face. There’s a knock on the door, causing him to get out of the bed and answer it. I get up and feel the shocks of pain in my leg as I walk to the bathroom and lock the door.

Charles isn’t allowed to have me in his room, so I have to hide in case it’s someone from his team. It’s not, however I plan on staying hidden from them. “My dad told me what kind of business she’s done and how she couldn’t prevail.” I hear Pierre complain. It’s not like he wouldn’t be in the same position if it wasn’t for racing. “Mate she could’ve gotten killed!”

No shit Sherlock. Charles knew that, he knew it the second his dad recruited me. I roll my eyes and listen in on the conversation. “Pierre I know that, that’s why I brought her with me.” Charles defended. “I didn’t think it was getting that serious.” I heard him mumble near the door.

Pierre scoffs, his footsteps inching closer. “6 times my dad’s guard stabbed her.” Pierre admitted shamefully. “He would’ve killed her.” My heart drops at the statement I had been dreading to hear.

“I should’ve taken her away when Ocon impounded her car, I knew something wasn’t right.” Charles sighed at his mistake of taking me so late.

Pierre leaves after a bit more talking and he opens the bathroom door. He looks at my thighs and lifts the shirt up to my waist. He crouches to the level of my thigh, I look up and sigh unsteadily. He takes it into his own hands to tend to the wound, not new, but freshly healed.

“You should’ve called.” He said in a soft whisper. I wince and go to reach out to stop him as he lathers the cold cream onto my leg. I bit my finger instead as a distraction and whine. “I know, I’m sorry.” He apologized for the inevitable pain.

He washes his hands when he finished and caresses my cheek. I lean into his hand, looking into his eyes. My confidence disappears when I’m around him, the vulnerability I feel is like no other. It all returns around others, but this is something I can’t control.

I’m sorry :/

[arbitrarykiwi]

Thinkin' Bout' Choi Su-Bong as Your BF

a drabble about what I think it would be like to be in a relationship with Thanos / Choi Su-Bong (sue me if it’s ooc idc)

Warnings: 18+ , weed mention , smoking weed , minimal smut scene (literally maybe two paragraphs) , over all pretty tame , read at your own risk

A / N: this was written when I had a bit of free time after work, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’m still working on the y’all’s scrumptious requests and the 4th part of my salesman fic but I wanted to give yall a lil treat for being so awesome <3!!

Choi Subong, or Thanos as the world knows him, is a force to be reckoned with. He is overly confident, suave, even intimidating! His purple haired rap persona exudes an image of a fuck boy who has multiple women for one night, a drug addicted playboy…..but that was Thanos.

That was the image he put off. That wasn’t Choi Su-bong.

Choi Su-bong is only for you to see!! His pretty little girlfriend that he loves so much! As soon as he’s done with a show or recording at the studio, he’s not pulling multiple random women into a motel room for the night- no. Thanos is gone and Choi Subong is back, he’s calling an uber and making his way straight over to your apartment, fumbling with his keys to find the copy of your apartment key on his lanyard, and welcoming himself into the cozy apartment that smells just like her.

It took him a long while to let the facade of Thanos face and let you see Choi Su-bong. That being said, it also took him a while to feel comfortable with the lovey, overly affectionate things that come with a relationship.

He was not a relationship guy, not before you that is. He thought you’d be a one night stand, truly he did, but after you walked downstairs to his music studio, blunt in hand, completely naked after the first time you two fucked- to only ask him about his music?! He was hooked. You were genuinely so interesting to talk to, and once you left early in the morning the next day- he ran out of his apartment, only in boxers to catch you before you got in your uber to get your number. He didn’t want to give you his, he couldn’t be sure you’d text him, he needed yours so he could text you.

That being said, it took him a minute to ease into the relationship. But when he does?! Good luck getting away from him. He’s such a baby. He realizes just how much he’s missed out on by never being a relationship guy. You mean he has a pretty girlfriend who comes to all his shows, brings him food late at night when he can’t leave the studio, helps him dye his hair, lets him crash at her place when he loses his keys at the club, lets him grab her ass whenever and rolls for him when he’s busy?! Get the fuck out!! He was so lucky.

He also would 100% be the motherfucker to ask you to spray one of his shirts with your perfume to deter women from coming up to him in the club. (But it’s really because he misses you when you’re not with him and he needs something to remind him of you.)

Thanos also is the type of guy to get your name tattooed behind his ear, on his finger, or on his ribs- something small and in a cursive font. He does it without even consulting you and it’s honestly so early into your relationship it should be a red flag (kinda is). But when he shows you, so so so fucking excited with a big goofy grin on his face, saying something like, “see baby!! That’s how devoted to you I am! Got your name etched into my skin!! The ink that spells your name is forever mixed with my blood, running through my veins!” What a fuckin’ dork. You can’t help but to giggle and run your fingers lightly over the raised skin, it was a really pretty tattoo.

He definitely makes music playlists for you, not even of his songs, just random ones he likes or things you like. He’ll name them something long and elaborate like “for when my baby girl is driving from work to my studio getting ready to see me” or “playlist for when my princess is doing her makeup on the weekends getting ready to meet the girlies at the club”.

Loves when you wear his clothes. Honestly just wants you to wear one of his shirts and some cute ankle socks with ruffles or bows or somethin- there’s just something about seeing the brief outline of your curvy form swallowed by his too large shirt, the way it will stop high on your thighs so it gives him a perfect view of the underside of your ass if you bend over too much - WOOF!! God, he loves that shit.

He’s weird about showing you off. He will post you for days on end, on whatever social media but he will never tag you. He hates the idea of men who follow him clicking your face or body in the photo to find your account to only follow you as soon as they get their nasty hands on your handle. He would prefer if you’re private on social media, if you’re not he doesn’t make you- but he likes it better when you are so him and you can go through the requests together so you two can laugh at the lame ass men who thing they could have any chance with you together.

As much as he likes being big spoon….he loves being little spoon. SUE ME!! He has been so starved of genuine, doting, affection that he craves you holding him. He needs to feel your lips press gentle kisses along his shoulder before you snuggle into his back, wrap your arms around him, and pull him into you before you fall asleep. He thinks it’s so cute how tight you hold him in your sleep- for someone so much smaller than him he has to fight to get out of your grip. If he has to piss in the middle of the night he’s so screwed because he has to pry himself from you while trying not to wake you up (it’s a game he adores playing). He also loves being little spoon because it solidifies how much smaller you are than him, you can’t curl around him completely like he can curl around you- he’ll your arms can hardly wrap around to his chest. It’s an amazing feeling that makes his heart flutter.

His favorite place to kiss you (besides your lips) is right below your ear. LET IT LAND, HOLD AWN NOW!!!! It’s because every time he does it you let out the cutest squeak that falls into a giggle. You always melt into him if he does that, your attention immediately going to him and you always wrap your hand around the back of his neck to make him do it more. He also gets to smell your perfume if he kisses you right there. It’s so rich in that area, the scent of the perfume mixes with the scent of the shampoo that’s in your hair and the scent of the laundry detergent you use on your clothes ALL topped off with the natural you scent?! Fuck that’s become his favorite scent.

When you’re walking anywhere with him, Choi Su-bong is 100% the type of guy to slip his hand into your back pocket, keeping it there the entire time you walk. You don’t have to worry about men hitting on you if you go out because he is ALWAYS with you, ain’t no confusing the fact that you’re taken when his hand is in your back pocket and very obviously grabbing a handful of your ass.

Also like I’ve mentioned in my fic captured in low resolution, he had pictures of you all over his studio- scratch that- he has pictures of you everywhere. One in the back of his phone, a picture of your hand in his palm looking sweetly at the camera on the area behind his steering wheel so he can see it when he’s driving, he’s got multiple hung up in his studio. Obviously his favorite image he has hung up in his studio is the large one you gifted him that was his favorite picture of you to replace the dingy paper one he used to have on the edge of his computer. But!!! His other favorite one is the one he has on his computer desktop, it’s one you took of the two of you in the car after a date! His face is covered in kiss marks and the photo captures your lips pressed against his cheek, leaving another mark while he stares happily into the camera-goofy ass smile on his face.

One way to this man’s heart is to buy him vapes. I definitely see him as the person to buy like three at a time so he doesn’t have to constantly go out and get a new one BUT he always runs them so low that you can smell the technology that burns in the plastic cartridge when he blows out the smoke. So when you show up to his studio, or his place, or y’all’s place (cause eventually you two would absolutely live together) and toss a new vape or two on the bed for him- he’s like a kid who was given a whole cake to eat by himself! “Oh how did you know?! Fuck you’re the best, baby!!” Thanos would yell, scrambling to open the vape and to make his way over to kiss you from where ever he was. “I could fucking smell how burnt it was!” You have to fight to get the words out because he’s placing kiss after kiss all over your face. You just saved him from having to go out and get them himself!!!

One of his favorite activities is literally just smoking and watching TV with you, maybe even play some Mario kart or somethin! There’s just something about the way you look with your eyes low and red that has him going feral!! You get more giggly and that’s one of his favorite sounds, you look so hot with the blunt hanging loosely from your lips as you try to get first place on the map- he’s in 7th…8th…9th… it literally just increases, he keeps falling off the road because he can’t stop staring at you.

Su-bong is also a sucker for cute dates. Doesn’t even have to necessarily involve you two going out! He likes cooking with you, maybe you both paint something, or even like getting matching pajamas, doing facemasks with those cat ear headbands and playing card games as they sit- oh yeah, he’s bout that shit!!!!

He also 100% has a kink for you calling him Thanos ONLY when he’s absolutely railing you. It’s a thing that fits in the moment. He holds you addressing him by ‘baby’ or ‘my love’ or even ‘Su-bong’ (you’re the ONLY one who gets to call him that) so very dear to him. It’s like a relief, coming home from a hard day of music production and being around shitty people to have his perfect girlfriend call out “Su-bong!!!” So sweetly when you hear the front door open. So that transfers over to the bedroom!! He loves hearing the sweet moan of his real name fall from your lips while he fucks you slow and deep. Every roll of his hips had him reaching depths inside you that made your stomach do flips, every syllable of ‘Su-bong’ coming out in choked, pretty cries.

You’ll know when he wants you to call him Thanos, you’ll moan a broken ‘Su-bong!!’ into the pillow as he fucks you from behind relentlessly and you’ll be met with his hands digging harder into the plush flesh of your ass, “Nuh-uh, who’s fucking you like a slut right now, huh? Who’s got you creaming around their cock?!” It’s a hissed growl, accompanied by a harsh slap! to your ass. “F-fuck! T-thanos!!”

You can hear him chuckle darkly, his thrusts picking up speed, becoming ever harder, “that’s it, yeahhh~ say it again. Say. It. Again. Who is fucking this sloppy cunt?!” Yeah…that’s when you know he wants you to call him Thanos.

Oh last thing!! Thanos for SURE will use your god damn shampoo and shit without asking. Like use it every time he gets the chance to. He doesn’t mean anything bad by it, he just loves the way they smell and he wants to smell like you. It’s when you shower together and catch him using your expensive shampoo that most certainly wasn’t great for his chemically treated and dyed hair for you to stop him. You finally realized why you had to dye his hair so often!!! You had to tell him that if he wanted to keep having you dye his hair, he had to take better care of it and not be so careless- you didn’t want his hair to become damaged more than it was! So you made a little date to go pick him up some color safe shampoo and conditioner that would help the longevity of his purple dye. You couldn’t get him to stop using your body wash though, it was all about compromise!

Choi Su-Bong is for you and you alone!!! He was so grateful for you, you allowed him to be himself to the truest degree- he didn’t have to hide behind the persona that was Thanos he only had to bring it into play when he wanted to get a lil’ rough with you <3

[bitchinbarzal]

Losing Kaia | Just Fine AU

Clayton wasn’t even sure how the fight had started.

One second, he and Kaia had been talking—normal, casual, just like any other day and the next they were yelling.

It wasn’t like them to fight like this.

Sure, they bickered.

They got frustrated, like any couple would.

This was different.

This was loud, angry, meaner than it should’ve been.

And even as the words were leaving his mouth, even as he felt the sharp, cutting anger twist inside of him—

A part of him already regretted it.

Because Kaia was standing in the middle of their apartment, her chest rising and falling quickly, her hands shaking slightly at her sides, her eyes too glassy, and Clayton knew.

He knew he had just crossed a line.

But instead of stopping

Instead of apologizing

Instead of fixing it

He pushed further.

“You’re not her mother, Kaia!”

Silence.

It was instant and suffocating.

Kaia’s breath hitched.

Her face barely changed, her eyes just slightly wider, her lips parting just enough to show how much it hurt.

But Clayton felt it like a gut punch.

Like something inside of him had just snapped in the worst way.

Because this was Kaia.

The woman who had stepped up when Elodie needed someone.

The woman who had wiped away tears, braided tiny curls, sat through hockey games with too much pride in her eyes for a little girl that wasn’t biologically hers.

The woman who had loved Elodie like her own before Clayton had even realized how much he loved Kaia.

And he had just thrown it in her face.

Kaia exhaled slowly, blinking hard before swallowing, straightening her spine.

Then she nodded once, sharp and stiff, and grabbed her bag.

Clayton opened his mouth, already regretting everything, but she was already walking toward the door.

“Kaia—”

She didn’t even turn around.

She just reached for the handle, twisting it without a word.

And then she was gone.

Clayton had thought about going after her.

He’d paced the apartment, running his hands through his hair, gritting his teeth, trying to figure out how to take back the words he never should’ve said.

But before he could his phone rang.

And his world stopped turning.

Unknown Number.

Clayton frowned, swiping to answer. “Hello?”

“Is this Clayton Keller?”

His stomach twisted. “Yes?”

“This is St. Luke’s Hospital. We have Kaia Mitchell here—she was in an accident.”

Everything blurred.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, his vision tunneled, his grip on his phone turned white-knuckled.

“What—?” His voice barely worked. “Is she—? Is she okay?”

“She’s stable,” the nurse said gently, “but she was hit by a car. We’d recommend coming down as soon as possible.”

Clayton didn’t even answer.

He was already grabbing his keys and running out the door.

The drive was a blur.

One second, he was sprinting through the hospital doors, panic roaring in his chest, and the next he was standing in front of a hospital bed, staring at the woman who had completely changed his life.

Kaia was too pale, a bandage wrapped around her forehead, her wrist in a brace, an IV looped into her arm.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, confusion and pain flickering across her face when she saw him.

“Clay?” she murmured.

And that’s when it hit him.

How easily he could have lost her.

How reckless he had been with his words.

A lump formed in his throat, and before he could stop himself he reached for her.

“I am so fucking sorry, baby.” His voice cracked as he cupped her face gently, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Her eyes softened slightly, but before she could answer

“Mommy?!”

Elodie’s tiny voice broke through the tension.

And suddenly there was a little girl sprinting into the room, tears already streaming down her face.

Kaia barely had time to react before Elodie flung herself onto the bed, clutching Kaia’s good arm like she was terrified to let go.

“Mommy, don’t leave!” Elodie sobbed, burying her face in Kaia’s shoulder. “I was so scared!”

Kaia’s breath hitched, her good arm immediately curling around her, pressing a shaky kiss to Elodie’s curls.

Elodie had been at the Marino’s having a playdate with Henry when Clay called them and asked for Elodie to be brought to the hospital. Asking that they prepare Elodie for the state Kaia was likely to be in.

“Oh, Bug,” she whispered, her own voice breaking. “I’m right here, baby. I’m okay.”

Elodie just shook her head furiously, gripping Kaia’s hospital gown even tighter.

Clayton felt his chest tighten, guilt slamming into him like a train.

Kaia wasn’t just important to him.

She was everything to Elodie.

Clayton had never felt this kind of fear before.

Not after a bad hit.

Not even after learning to be a dad overnight.

Nothing compared to seeing Kaia in a hospital bed.

Nothing compared to the way Elodie had sobbed into her side, her tiny body curled up like if she just held tight enough, Kaia wouldn’t disappear.

Nothing compared to knowing this was his fault.

Not the accident itself.

But the fact that she had left upset, that she had been walking around angry and distracted because of him.

Because of what he had said.

Because he had cut her open with words he could never take back.

Now, he didn’t know if she’d ever look at him the same way again.

The hospital had cleared her to go, her injuries not serious enough to keep her overnight.

But Clayton wasn’t relieved.

Not really.

Not when she was silent the entire ride home.

Not when Elodie—normally the loudest little girl on the planet—was pressed against Kaia’s side, gripping her hand tightly, her thumb in her mouth like she was trying to soothe herself.

Not when every few seconds, Kaia would shift her injured wrist, wince slightly, and Clayton would feel another piece of himself crumble into nothing.

The second they walked in, Elodie insisted on bringing Kaia to the couch.

“Sit, Mommy,” she said seriously, her tiny hands pushing Kaia down gently, her face still worried.

Kaia melted a little, smiling softly. “I’m okay, Bug.”

Elodie just huffed, grabbing a blanket from the corner and draping it over Kaia’s lap like a little nurse.

Clayton watched the whole thing in silence, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

His chest was still tight, his stomach churning, but he had no idea what to do.

How to fix this.

Finally, when Elodie was distracted grabbing her stuffed animals to “help” Kaia feel better, Clayton sat on the edge of the coffee table, just close enough to reach for her hand—but not brave enough to actually touch her yet.

“Kaia…” His voice was low, hoarse, filled with everything he wanted to say and not enough words to say it.

She looked at him slowly, her face unreadable.

“I was wrong,” he whispered. “I was so fucking wrong.”

Her jaw clenched slightly, but she said nothing.

Clayton swallowed, his hands tightening into fists on his knees.

“I don’t even know why I said it,” he continued. “It wasn’t true. It was never true.” His voice broke slightly. “You are her mother, Kaia. You always have been.”

Kaia exhaled slowly, blinking hard.

For the first time, Clayton could see the hurt still sitting in her chest.

Not just from the accident.

Not just from the fear.

But from him.

“You really hurt me, Clay.” Her voice was soft. Matter-of-fact.

Like she wasn’t saying it to make him feel worse—just that she needed him to hear it.

Clayton winced, dragging a hand down his face. “I know.”

“I mean it,” she said, firmer this time, her eyes brighter. “That wasn’t just a fight, Clayton. That wasn’t something you just take back.”

“I know.” His voice was barely a whisper now.

Kaia hesitated, glancing toward the kitchen where Elodie was lining up stuffed animals for some imaginary hospital check-up.

Then, she sighed.

“I forgive you,” she murmured, quiet and real.

Clayton’s chest cracked open with relief until she spoke again.

“But I’m not gonna forget it.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him.

It shouldn’t have hurt even more.

But it did.

Because he knew he deserved it.

Because she shouldn’t forget it.

Because he needed to remember every single second of how much this hurt—so that he never, never made her feel like that again.

Clayton nodded slowly, swallowing hard.

“I get that,” he whispered.

And then Kaia reached for his hand.

Not entirely forgiving, not letting it go.

But letting him know she wasn’t leaving.

Was she doing this for Elodie or for him? He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to find out.

[yvesssssssss]

I HAD AN IDEAAAAA

Could u write about Nagumo and f!reader playing pocky game? Since he likes pocky and I was thinking that's something he'd do with his girl idk

The Pocky Game Gone Wrong (Or Right?) – Nagumo Yoichi x Reader

It starts with a simple craving.

You’re curled up on the couch, unwinding after a long day, when you remember the unopened box of Pocky sitting in your bag. You’d picked it up earlier on a whim—just a light snack, nothing special. But the second you rip open the packaging, you feel it.

Nagumo is watching you.

It’s subtle at first—the weight of his gaze from across the room, the way his dark eyes gleam with interest. He doesn’t say anything right away, just observes as you pull out a stick and bring it to your lips.

Then, faster than you can react, his hand snatches the box from your grasp, his movements swift and effortless.

“Yoink~”

You snap your head toward him. “Nagumo.”

He grins, already twirling a Pocky stick between his fingers, the same effortless showmanship he applies when handling knives. His posture is relaxed, one knee propped up on the couch, but there’s something unmistakably mischievous in his expression.

“Pocky, huh?” he muses, slipping one end between his lips. “Good choice.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the box. “Give it back.”

“Now, now,” he drawls, holding it just out of reach. “What’s the fun in that?”

You narrow your eyes. “What do you want?”

Nagumo smirks, leaning in slightly. “Ever played the Pocky Game?”

Your breath catches, but you force yourself to stay unimpressed. “You mean the game where two people eat from opposite ends until one gives up or—”

“—they kiss?” he finishes, dark eyes glinting. “Exactly.”

You cross your arms. “And let me guess, you want to play?”

“Obviously.” He rests his chin on his palm, still smirking. “Gotta keep our relationship exciting, don’t I?”

You scoff. “You just want an excuse to mess with me.”

“Mm, maybe.” His voice drops a little lower, playful but challenging. “Or maybe I just want to kiss you.”

Your face heats up, but you refuse to back down. “Fine,” you say, lifting your chin. “But don’t expect me to lose.”

Nagumo grins like you just stepped into his trap.

He bites down on one end of the Pocky, offering you the other. The second you take it, the air changes.

You chew carefully, keeping your pace even, matching his movements. He does the same, dark eyes never leaving yours, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

The space between you shrinks.

You can feel his breath now, warm and steady. Your pulse quickens, but you keep going, determined not to break first.

A few more bites, and your lips are nearly touching.

Then, without warning, Nagumo shifts.

Instead of taking the last bite, he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in. His lips crash against yours before you can react, the taste of chocolate and something unmistakably him overwhelming your senses.

The Pocky snaps between you, forgotten.

Nagumo kisses like he fights—effortless, calculated, but with an undercurrent of danger that sends a thrill down your spine. His tongue brushes against your lips, teasing, coaxing, and you don’t even realize you’ve parted them until he deepens the kiss.

Your fingers curl into his shirt as he tilts his head, his grip firm but never forceful. The heat of his body, the way he takes control so easily—it’s dizzying. Your breath hitches as his gloved hand slides to your waist, pressing you closer.

By the time he finally pulls back, you’re breathless.

Nagumo licks his lips, as if savoring the taste of both the chocolate and you. His smirk is back, but there’s something darker in his gaze now—satisfaction, amusement, and maybe a hint of smug pride.

“Guess I win,” he murmurs.

Your heart is racing. Your mind is a mess. You’re still trying to process what just happened when he plucks another Pocky stick from the box.

“Best out of three?”

You should say no. You should.

But when he places the Pocky between his lips again, that same knowing look in his eyes…

You bite down without hesitation.

[ravennaortiz]

This one is smutty🫢 but could I have a coffee with happy being rough and face fucking 🫢

We love smutty around these parts Anon! 😈 one smutty Happy coffee coming up! As always 18!

"Come" growled Happy as he grabbed you by your ponytail and pulled you away from Tig who you had been talking too.

"Happy what the hell" you demanded as you stumbled trying to keep up as he dragged you halfway across the clubhouse before stopping

Grabbing a chair he flipped it and slammed himself down pulling you down across his lap

Without a word he yanked your skirt up around your hips and deliverd a series of blows to your ass that had your eyes smarting

"Warned you bout this outfit" stated Happy before shoving you off his lap as his hands went to his belt and started to un do it

"Stay" ordered Happy as you began to get up a pout on your face."loose the attitude little girl" he stated as he grabbed your neck and did his belt around it like a collar

"Out and suck" he stated as he yanked you closer to him.

"Happy we are " you started as you moved to push away making him sigh as he undid his belt.

A minute later he was forcing your mouth open with one hand as he used his belt to yank you up and down his cock roughly.

You drooled,gagged and cried as he hit the back of your throat painfully as he moaned and grunted.

After a few minutes he pulled from you and came on your face before putting your head and taking his belt off. "Next time you wear that skirt remeber this lesson" he stated before going to sit with Tig and Kozik.

Your cheeks heated up as you realized rhe whole club had been watching.

[miihho]

Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

—THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

[dollfacefantasy]

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. what you’re supposed to see him as. what you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you, remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Tattoo artist!rafe x angel!reader who lets rafe do her secret tats, the ones that her parents have no clue about.

warnings: secret tattoos, suggestive so MDNI, he does end up touching and looking at your boobs LMFAO, nd this is for my girls with spaced out titties (me) ✊🏽

♫ dirty little secret, the all-american rejects

“Shit, is that who I think it is?” His voice causes you to look up, smiling at him with a little wave, standing up from the leather couch you were sat on, pocketing your phone and walking towards him.

“My favorite client.” He complimented, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you with a grin on his face.

“Aww… you’re too sweet.”

“How are you? It’s been a little. Last I saw you was church.” He said with a chuckle, you shrugging.

“Same old. How about you?”

“It’s been… going. You know, can’t complain. But I was really glad when I saw you dm me.” He spoke, motioning for you to follow him back when he began to walk. He led you into a room, shutting the door behind him. You sat down, nerves shooting as he turned back to you.

“So, I got the reference all drawn out.” He spoke while grabbing the stencil, showing it to you. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing! As always.”

He smiled, flattered. He began putting his gloves on, your heart thumping against your chest as you sat down. You were nervous for two reasons, one being that tattoos always made you nervous, rightfully so. Reason two, well, that was because Rafe, one of your best friends who you had a fat crush on, was about to see you completely topless. It’s not like he hasn’t before, last appointment being a pair of little angel wings on your back, leaving you in your bra.

But now, he was literally going to see you without a bra. Maybe you should have picked another artist.

But it was too late to turn back now, you realized after he turned back, cleaning supplies for your skin in hand, along with the stencil.

“Uhm- can you take off your shirt and bra f’me?” He nodded at you, your cheeks warming up at the words. “Here, I’ll-“ he murmured, turning around to give you some sort of privacy, his back facing you. You tugged off both garments of clothing, and swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when he turned to look back at you. You sat back down on the chair.

“You all good?” He asked you, trying his best to look at your face rather than your tits as he walked closer to the chair. He grabbed the cleaning supplies, cleaning near and on the area where you wanted it before drying your skin off.

“Mhm.” You nodded, watching as his eyes traveled down your body, a spark in his eyes, he moved his hands slowly, beginning to line the little bow stencil up. His hands grazed the skin of your breasts, causing your breath to hitch. You held them in your hands, shielding them from his eyes.

“Okay… you said right here, correct?” He spoke, glancing into your eyes as he placed the stencil where the valley of where your boobs were, trying his best to remain professional despite everything. God, he hoped you couldn’t see the way his cock started to stir in his pants.

You nodded at him, him poking his tongue out of his mouth as he put it against your skin, smoothing it against your body before peeling it back, the ink now on your skin.

He sighed out in relief, it was perfectly placed and he hadn’t given away that he was rock hard.

“You want a water?” He asked you, you nodding at him. “Alright. I’ll be back.” He spoke, you finally taking a breath when he walked out of the room.

Not only was it an almost seemingly very long appointment, he made it worse every time you felt his hands brush up on your body.

You tried your best to have casual conversation, but god, was he making it hard.

“Hey, did you ever tell your parents about this?” He asked you randomly, you looking at him with a furrowed eyebrow. “Just out of curiosity. I know how they are.”

“Definitely not. They would kill me. They already think that anyone else with tattoos is ‘sent by the devil.’”

He chuckled, “heard that one before.”

You found yourself staring at his pillowy lips when he spoke, or his hands when he traced over the stencil carefully.

And once it was done, he gave you a fucking discount.

“Wait, whys it cheaper?” You asked him, looking at him with confusion on your face.

“I told you, you’re my favorite client. Plus, I can’t say I disliked the view I got during it.” He was getting bolder, a smirk making its way onto his face.

Cheeky motherfucker.

You tilted your head to the side with a little pout on your lips. “Are you sure? I feel bad.”

“I’m sure, princess.” He chuckled. “Just come back, yeah? Needa see you more.”

“Well, actually… if you want, I’m having this party next weekend… you know,” you shrugged, casually leaning over the counter. “My parents are out of town for a while.” You told him, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his eyebrows at the invitation.

“Yeah?” He hummed out.

“Mhm.” You nodded, “you should come!”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

You smiled at him, leaning further over the counter to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Rafey!” You told him when you turned around to leave, waving bye to him.

“Anytime, angel!”

[jungwnies]

TIKTOK TREND WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : wiping off their kiss every time they kiss you

୨ৎ : genre : fluff, angsty only if you squint ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 3379

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : so proud of charles getting podium, i am a happy girl 🥲 also i finally added george to the featuring >.<

ʚ・max verstappen

the living room was quiet, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm light over the couch. you perched on the edge, setting your phone up on the coffee table, angling it perfectly toward where max would sit. the screen reflected your mischievous grin as you hit record.

the sound of the shower shutting off echoed down the hall, followed by max’s footsteps. he walked in, towel over his shoulder, hair damp and messy.

“what are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

you leaned back casually, fighting a smirk. “nothing. just waiting for you.”

max dropped onto the couch beside you, still toweling his damp hair. without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed your cheek softly. as soon as he pulled away, you casually wiped the spot, pretending to fix your hair.

his brows furrowed. “did you just wipe that off?”

you glanced at him, feigning confusion. “wipe what off?”

“my kiss,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“no, i was just fixing my hair,” you replied, your tone so casual it could’ve won an oscar.

he stared at you for a second but shrugged it off. leaning in again, he kissed your temple this time, holding it for a moment longer before pulling back. you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a laugh as you wiped it away, pretending to scratch your face.

“okay, now you’re definitely wiping them off,” he said, his tone sharper.

“max, you’re imagining things,” you said, giving him an innocent look.

“i’m not imagining anything!” he shot back, leaning forward with a slight pout. “why are you doing this? did i do something wrong?”

“you’re overthinking it,” you said, brushing off his concern.

he frowned, leaning in for a third kiss, this time planting it on the corner of your mouth. when you wiped that one off too, his mouth dropped open. “seriously? are you mad at me or something? just say it if you are.”

“i’m not mad!” you said, fighting to keep a straight face.

“then why are you being weird?” he snapped, now visibly salty. “do you not want me to kiss you anymore? should i stop?”

you burst out laughing, grabbing your phone off the table and showing him the recording. “baby, it’s a tik-tok trend! i was messing with you!”

his jaw clenched as he realized, then he groaned dramatically, flopping back into the couch. “you’re actually the worst,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

“aww, don’t be mad,” you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

he huffed, shaking his head. “you're an asshole,” then, with a smirk, he kissed you again and wrapped his arm around you, "but i guess i love you anyways." keeping you locked in place.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

the front door clicked open, and you glanced up from the couch to see lewis stepping inside, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. his face looked tired, but he still gave you a soft smile, the kind that made your heart melt every time.

“long day?” you asked, setting your book aside.

“you have no idea,” he said with a sigh, dropping the bag by the door. “flights, media, and a race weekend? i’m ready to collapse.”

“sounds like you need some love,” you teased, patting the seat beside you.

lewis chuckled, kicking off his sneakers before walking over. he plopped down, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“missed you,” he murmured.

you smiled but casually brushed your hand over the spot where he’d kissed, pretending to fix your hair. lewis’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything, instead leaning in to kiss your cheek. when you wiped that off too, his lips parted in disbelief.

“did you just… wipe my kiss off?” he asked, his tone soft but genuinely confused.

“no, i was just adjusting my sweater,” you replied, keeping your face straight.

he tilted his head, watching you carefully now. “right… okay.”

a few moments passed, and lewis leaned in again, this time kissing your jawline. before he could even pull back fully, you wiped it off with a quick swipe of your hand.

“alright, what’s going on?” he asked, sitting up straighter. his voice was still calm, but there was a hint of frustration now. “did i do something wrong?”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“babe, you’re wiping off my kisses!” he said, his brows knitting together. “if you’re mad, just say so.”

“i’m not mad,” you said, trying not to laugh at the utterly baffled look on his face.

lewis leaned back, crossing his arms. “so, what? you don’t like my kisses anymore? should i stop?”

you couldn’t hold it in anymore, grabbing your phone from the coffee table and bursting into laughter. “i was recording the whole thing,” you admit, "it's a tik-tok trend, a hilarious one i must admit, you should've seen your reaction."

he stared at you for a moment, processing, before shaking his head with an exasperated laugh. “you’re unbelievable. you had me thinking i did something wrong!”

“you’re too sweet,” you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

he smirked, pulling you into his lap. “if this is your idea of fun, just wait. payback’s coming, and it’s gonna be good.”

ʚ・george russell

the room was dim, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp lighting the space as you slid into bed next to george. he was already lying on his side, scrolling through his phone, his hair still slightly damp from his shower. the sheets rustled as you snuggled under the covers, your head resting against the pillow.

“finally, you're here,” he said with a soft smile, turning off his phone and setting it on the nightstand. “i thought you’d be up all night organizing stuff again.”

“you know me too well,” you replied, adjusting the blanket and shifting closer to him.

george chuckled, brushing a lock of hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. as soon as he pulled back, you absentmindedly wiped your forehead, pretending to smooth out a strand of hair.

george stopped, his gaze fixed on you, a slight furrow in his brow. “did you just… wipe off my kiss?”

you blinked innocently, tilting your head. “what? no, i didn’t.”

he leaned back, clearly unconvinced, his lips twisting into a half-smirk. “really? that’s how we’re doing this now?”

“doing what?” you asked, trying to keep a straight face.

he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you before brushing it off. “never mind,” he muttered, shaking his head, but he didn’t take his eyes off you as he repositioned himself to get more comfortable in bed.

a moment later, george leaned in again, this time kissing the top of your nose. before he could fully pull back, you reached up and wiped it away, pretending to rub your eyes.

he sat up slightly, blinking in disbelief. “are you serious? again?”

“serious about what?” you asked, turning toward him with a sweet smile.

he let out a slow exhale, clearly trying to process. “you’re wiping off my kisses like it’s nothing. are you trying to tell me something here?”

you shrugged, still maintaining the innocent act. “it’s not like that, george.”

his voice was a little quieter this time, a mix of confusion and playfulness. “okay, now i’m starting to wonder. do you actually not want my kisses or what?”

you quickly reached for your phone, clicking the screen and showing him the recording. “george, it's a tik-tok”

his eyes widened in realization, and he let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “seriously? you’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

“yep,” you said, grinning.

he raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “you're lucky you're cute."

ʚ・carlos sainz

the kitchen was quiet, sunlight spilling through the windows as you sat at the counter, sipping your coffee. carlos was standing by the stove, flipping pancakes with the focus of a man on a mission, but his usual easygoing vibe was still present. he glanced over at you as he set the pan down, a lazy smile forming on his face.

“good morning, cariño,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep, though there was a sparkle in his eyes. “how did you sleep?”

“like a log,” you said, taking a long sip of coffee. “thanks to you keeping me up late last night.”

he laughed, his eyes twinkling as he moved to grab the syrup. “so you admit it? i’m just too irresistible.”

you rolled your eyes, setting your mug down. “not quite. you’re more like a human heater, honestly.”

“ah, a heater with a great smile,” he added, leaning in to kiss your forehead. before he could pull away, you quickly wiped the spot, pretending to adjust your hair.

he froze, standing there for a second with a confused look on his face. “eh? did you just wipe off my kiss?”

you looked up at him innocently, trying to hide your smile. “what? no, I didn’t.”

“no? okay…” he said, his voice now filled with playful suspicion. he raised an eyebrow. “that’s… interesting.”

he took a step back, eyeing you carefully. “so, you don’t want me to kiss you anymore, is that it? too much affection?”

“what are you talking about?” you asked, feigning confusion. “i just didn’t want syrup on my face.”

carlos chuckled, but he leaned in again, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. before he could even fully pull away, you wiped it off again, this time more exaggerated.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back dramatically. “okay, okay, you’re messing with me now, right?”

“no, I’m not,” you said, trying to stifle your laugh. “seriously.”

he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly starting to get annoyed. “are you doing this just to mess with me? i’m here, making pancakes, and you’re wiping off my kisses? do you want to break up or something?”

“what? no!” you exclaimed, trying not to crack a smile. “I swear, I’m not doing anything weird.”

he sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. “you’re making me feel like I’m doing something wrong. why are you wiping my kisses away?”

that was when you couldn’t hold it anymore. you grabbed your phone from the counter, showing him the recording of the whole thing. “carlos, it’s a prank!”

his eyes widened as he watched the footage, then he groaned, dramatically slouching against the counter. “you’re unbelievable. seriously, I’m making my famous fluffy pancakes and this is what I get?”

“you know you love me,” you said, laughing.

he shook his head, rolling his eyes. “fine, fine. but just wait, I’m going to get you back for this one.”

“we’ll see about that,” you teased, reaching for a pancake.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you were curled up on the couch, charles beside you with his arm draped over your shoulders as you both relaxed after a long day. the movie was on, but you weren’t really paying attention. instead, you were watching charles every now and then, his focused expression as he tried to get into the plot. a small, playful thought crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but act on it.

you nudged him lightly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, but as soon as you pulled back, you wiped it off with exaggerated care, pretending to smooth a stray strand of hair.

charles paused, the film still playing in the background, but he was no longer paying attention to it. he turned to you, a brow raised and a mischievous glint in his eyes. “did you just wipe my kiss off?” he asked, voice a mix of amusement and genuine confusion.

you blinked, acting innocent. “what? no, i didn’t. you must be seeing things, babe.”

he leaned in closer, his smirk growing. “really? because i definitely saw that,” he said, his voice playfully suspicious. "you sure you’re not hiding something?"

“nope,” you replied quickly, your lips twitching with the effort to keep a straight face. “just... adjusting my hair. i have really messy hair, you know?”

“hmm,” he said, squinting at you. “well, i’ll just have to test that theory again, then.”

charles leaned in for another kiss, but this time, he took his time, making sure to press a little longer against your skin. as he pulled away, he looked at you with a smirk, waiting for your reaction.

without hesitation, you wiped your cheek again, this time a little more dramatically, as though he’d just kissed you with a mouthful of chocolate or something.

charles froze, his mouth parting as he tried to process what just happened. “okay, what the hell?” he laughed, his confusion turning into playful disbelief. “now you’re really wiping it off. i swear, if this is some kind of prank…”

“prank?” you asked, feigning innocence. “no, charles, no prank here. just making sure my skin stays clean.”

he let out a deep sigh, shifting so he was facing you fully, his expression a mixture of frustration and laughter. “you’ve got to be kidding me. you’re wiping off my kisses now? i’m feeling personally attacked, mon amour.”

you couldn’t hold back your grin any longer. “oh, charles,” you said, trying not to laugh, “it’s just a little tik-tok, okay? i swear, i love your kisses... just not on my face right now.”

he blinked at you, processing it for a second before it clicked. “wait a minute...” he said, his voice growing mock-serious. “you’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

you nodded, finally letting out a laugh as you grabbed your phone and showed him the video you’d been recording.

charles threw his head back, a laugh escaping as he groaned in exasperation. “you’re impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “here i was thinking i was doing something wrong, and you’re just messing with me for fun.”

“i’m sorry, babe,” you said, still laughing. “but look at that face you made every time i wiped it off! it was too good.”

he shook his head, trying to hide his grin. “i swear, i’m going to get you back for this. but, just so you know, i don’t think i’ll ever kiss you on the cheek again. i might have to kiss you on your hand next time—keep it classy.”

“that’s fine with me,” you teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek for real this time, savoring the moment. “as long as it’s real this time, i’ll take anything.”

charles wrapped his arm around you again, pressing his lips to the top of your head with a playful sigh. “you’re impossible.”

“i know,” you replied, grinning. “and you love it.”

ʚ・lando norris

you were getting ready to leave the room, heading for the door to grab something. lando, in the middle of streaming, noticed you getting up and paused his game.

“hey, where are you going?” he asked with a playful grin.

“just to grab my jacket,” you replied, already halfway to the door.

he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before you left, but as soon as his lips touched your skin, you wiped your cheek with your hand in one swift motion, acting like it was no big deal.

lando pulled back, his expression frozen for a moment. “wait... what?”

you turned to him with wide eyes, completely innocent. “what? i didn’t wipe anything off.”

“you definitely just wiped off my kiss,” he said, his voice laced with confusion.

you shrugged, still acting nonchalant. “nah, you’re imagining things.”

lando squinted at you, his head tilting in that way he does when he’s trying to figure out what’s going on. “seriously? i gave you a kiss, and you wiped it off like... like i’ve got bad breath or something?”

“i didn’t wipe it off,” you said, barely holding in your grin. “you’re being dramatic.”

“no, no,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “i’m pretty sure you just wiped it off. i know i kissed you, and i know it’s gone now.”

you pretended to look at the floor, trying to look innocent. “you must be tired, love. maybe you imagined it?”

he paused for a moment, trying to make sense of it, but after a beat, he shrugged it off and went back to his game. you turned to leave again, and he kissed you once more on the cheek, this time giving you a teasing smile.

before you even gave him a chance to pull away, you wiped the kiss off again—this time with even more dramatic flair, rubbing your hand over your cheek like it was covered in dirt.

“okay, that’s it!” he said, pausing his game once again. “you’re messing with me. why are you wiping off my kisses? what’s going on?”

you couldn’t help it anymore and pulled out your phone to show him the tiktok trend. “you’ve been pranked.”

his eyes went wide for a second, before bursting into laughter. “oh my god, i can’t believe i fell for that!”

you smiled smugly. “what can i say? i’m just that good.”

“next time, i’m getting you back for this one,” he said, still laughing.

meanwhile, his twitch chat was going wild. "lando, how did you not realize this was the tiktok trend?" one viewer typed.

“i swear, i thought i was being tricked by my own girlfriend!” lando chuckled, shaking his head at the screen. "chat's right though, i should've known better."

ʚ・oscar piastri

you and oscar were lounging on the couch, the tv flickering quietly in the background, but neither of you were really watching it. the evening had that lazy, easy vibe where you didn’t need to talk much, just enjoying each other's presence.

oscar was scrolling through his phone, chuckling at something he’d seen. you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, but at the last second, he turned his head, and your lips landed right on his.

“wait, what was that?” he grinned, pulling back slightly. “since when did you get so affectionate all of a sudden?”

you shrugged, playing it cool. “what can i say, love? just felt like it.”

he narrowed his eyes at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “hmm, you sure you’re not up to something?”

you raised an eyebrow, acting casual. “nope, just a kiss. no hidden agenda.”

“right,” he said, clearly unconvinced, before leaning in for another kiss. but this time, just before his lips met yours, you quickly wiped your cheek with your hand, like you were brushing something off.

oscar froze, staring at you like you’d just sprouted another head. “wait, did you just—? did you just wipe off my kiss?”

you turned to him with wide eyes, trying to look innocent. “huh? no, i didn’t. you’re imagining things.”

“no, i saw it,” he said, sitting up a little straighter, a grin now playing on his face. “you literally wiped it off like i’ve got something on my face.”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “maybe you do. you never know.”

oscar stared at you for a moment, his grin slipping into mock offense. “so, now i’ve got bad kisses, huh?”

“no, no,” you said, trying not to laugh. “just… you know. maybe a little extra today.”

“extra?” he repeated, leaning in with a suspicious look on his face. “alright, this is definitely a prank. i can tell.”

you bit your lip, fighting the smile that was threatening to break out. “who, me? never.”

“don’t lie,” he said, crossing his arms. “this is 100% a prank. i'm being pranked, aren't i?”

before you could answer, oscar leaned in again, and this time, when he kissed you, he pulled away slowly, rubbing his cheek like he was wiping something off, complete with an exaggerated motion. “is that better?” he asked, grinning ear to ear. “did i nail it?”

you burst into laughter, finally admitting defeat. “okay, okay! you caught me! it's the stupid tik-tok trend.”

oscar chuckled, shaking his head. “you can’t fool me. but, i’ll be getting you back for this one.”

“you can try." you teased.

“oh, we’ll see about that,” he said, leaning in for another kiss, this time making sure you didn’t wipe it off. “but this one stays, just so you know.”

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[visdollie]

☆ having fun without me?

sum: vi isnt happy when she sees you posing on your insta story with another girl at a party

cw: wlw, angry sex, overstim, fem!reader, dom!vi, clit rubbing (r!receiving), dirty talk, slapping, name calling (slut), not proofread

fucked.

fucked is what you were when you realized the time. after countless hours of heartfelt conversations and a plethora of shots, you had gotten so distracted at the party that you forgot to get home to vi on time.

10:00 pm was the time vi told you before your friend picked you up. it was fucking 2:31 am. you already knew how impatient she could be.

"aw, leaving so soon?" a girl you met at said party whined at you with a tilt to her head as she watched you rush to gather your belongings and text your friend a quick "meet me outside" in an obvious hurry. the same girl you decided to snap a cute 'harmless' selfie with and post to your story.

you dashed out the door, leaving her a quick "so sorry we'll meet again soon!" before rushing to the parking lot, searching for your friends car with a look of fear on your face.

"im fucked, im so fucked!" you yapped her ears off, just watching her roll her eyes and drive you home.

---

shivers went down your spine as you steadily unlocked and opened your shared front door, avoiding making any noise in hopes that vi was just asleep, and would just penalize you in the morning.

you were practically on your tippy toes, but the creaky door did you no justice as it slipped out your grip and slammed closed.

"fuck." you whispered.

it was terrifyingly dark in your home. not a single peep or sound besides the loud ass air conditioner. you thought you were fine for the night, but no.. not until your girlfriend snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you back roughly as a yelp slipped from your lips.

"ah! vi.. you scared me." you giggled anxiously. vi could sense that you both knew the obvious issue which placed tension between the situation as she planted kisses across your collarbone.

"missed me?" she muttered on your warm, sticky skin in a malicious tone. you nodded your head, too nervous to say anything that could possibly anger her more.

she crept closer to your ear. "was having fun without me, yeah? takin pics with random girls, lettin them grab all on your ass? bet you had a great fucking time.. slut." she bit down on your neck, not hard enough to leave a scar, but harsh enough to taste the metallic flavor of your blood. you whimpered, loud.

"m sorry.. was jus having fun, n i didnt realize the tim-"

you yelped as she grabbed your wrist and dragged you down the so familiar hallway to your bedroom, muttering a rough "shut it. you saw this coming, baby."

the grip she had on your wrists tightened, her nails digging into your soft skin that made it obvious to you she was getting angrier by the second. was she angry because you got home late? or because of your oh so touchy friend? you assumed it was both.

all thoughts were snapped out of your head as she threw you on the silky, crepe pink sheets and immediately started attacking your neck with bites and bruises.

"mmh.." you whined pathetically, letting her take your brain over and dumb it down. her hand slid down your body, putting it up your skirt to rub at your clit at a rugged pace to make you more wet, as if you already werent.

your poor body struggled in determination to move away from her touch but her grip on your hips with her free hand kept you still. she lifted up from your collarbone, admiring the mess she made. "keep still, slut. shouldve been home on time, but was too busy out fuckin girls, yeah?" her pace on your clit grew faster.

"f-ffuhck.. was.. wasnt fuckin no one, vi! was jus havin fun.. d.. dont even know the girls name.. m sorry.." you babbled on and on hoping for some relief on your poor clit as she went faster each word you spoke. she had no plans of showing mercy, no way. she was way too pissed for that.

"yeah, right. she shouldnt have been touchin you like that, baby." a loud, harsh slap met your thigh, pulling a choked out moan from the back of your throat. "p-please!"

she felt you growing wetter through your panties, deciding to pause her steady motions to rip them off. she grinned at how wet you were. your pussy was glistening, practically reflecting off the ceiling light. you stuffed your face in your pillow in embarassment.

"so fuckin wet, its like you were waiting on this. prolly were, slut." she belittled you, listening to your whines of disagreement. her fingers rubbed up and down your cunt, lubricating them so she'd be able to fuck you senseless. sloppy noises of you pussy making her drip through her own underwear.

you keened at the feeling. "p-please.. fill me up vi! hurry.." vi let out a grunt of annoyance at your impatience. a rough SLAP at your pussy. yeah, that'll shut you up.

tears welled up in your eyes as you pressed your lips closed, a long whimper leaving them. "always so fucking noisy." your girlfriend quietly muttered before shoving two of her fingers deep in your cunt. "just wanna be stuffed full with my fingers, dont you baby?"

throwing your head back at the feeling, you nodded hastily. brain going dumb as she worked her digits in and out of you, thumb going at your clit. "tell me baby, did you do anything with that girl, hmm? why were you with her?" she spoke to you softly, as if she wasnt pissed a few seconds ago.

"w..was just a friend vi, promise! she.. haah.. means nothin to mme.. pleasepleaseplease.."

she snickered at your babbling, fucking you quicker as a reward of your honesty. you knew vi wasnt really worried about you leaving her. you adored her and she adored you on an unfathomable level, she just worried about your safety. (and had a big fear of other bitches growing crushes on you.)

"gon.. gonna cum.." you whined, legs trembling from how sore they were growing. vi felt you clenching around her rough fingers, thumb rubbing at your clit to loosen you up.

"cmon, baby. cum for me. let go all over my fingers.." her words made you sob out even more. you clawed at the sheets, cumming all over them with a long, drawn out wail.

she kept fucking her fingers into you, adding a third one. you started kicking your legs in overstimulation, whining for her to let up but she was relentless.

"tell me, baby. tell me who you belong to."

you doubted you could even speak properly due to the aggressive fingerfucking, but you made an attempt, tears dripping onto the sheets at this point. pathetic.

yet you tried anyway. "y..you vi.. belong to.. you.."

she faught back a laugh, removing her fingers from your cunt and planting a kiss to your forehead. you laid back onto the bed, immediately squeezing your thighs closed.

"you did so well, cupcake. but you arent going out for a while."

you frowned, rolling your eyes at her. secretly though, you didnt mind. if it means being able to spend more time with your girlfriend, you dont mind.

@ visdollie 2024

[ohmybueckers]

𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴: 𝘱.𝘣 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

summary: you and paige make a bet to see who can go the longest without initiating sex. much to both of your displeasure, neither one of you are willing to go down without a fight themes/warnings: smut with very little plot, fingering (r receiving), oral (p receiving), strap-on use, exhibitionism if your squint (not really though just adding it to be safe), sexting, breeding kink (sort of) word count: 5.6k note: yes i wrote and proofread this in less than 24 hours. no, the timeline of this story does not make much sense with actual UCONN schedules. please suspend ur disbelief there, this is basically just filth xoxoxo enjoy

It all started on a Friday night in Paige’s apartment. The two of you laid on top of her comforter browsing places for a potential upcoming weekend trip. Dating one of the most prominent players in women’s college basketball was not for the weak, with the two of you often having to piece your busy schedules together like a puzzle to find enough time for a simple dinner or even time to coexist together. But occasionally, the universe (or Geno) granted you a gift in the form of time off for Paige. This meant you were able to disappear off to a romantic getaway with your girl for a bit. If you two could pick a place, that is.

“We could go to Miami?” You suggested, reading off a list on your phone. Paige leaned in to look, lightly tapping the side of your head with hers. Her arm rested around your shoulders, her hand drawing circles on your arm every once in a while. Her limb had fallen asleep about 10 minutes prior, but she would never tell you that.

“Don’t we wanna go somewhere a little more romantic?” Paige questioned, a point you failed to consider. “Plus you know I’m gonna get sunburnt on the first day.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re sunburnt.” You giggled in response, remembering the various vacation photos you’ve received over the years with Paige’s skin in ranging shades of red. Apparently, she didn’t seem to think so, as she looked at you pointedly with an eyebrow raised. You huffed, “Fine, what are your ideas.”

As Paige moves to unlock her phone, the two of you are interrupted by a sharp soundcoming from outside of her room. Paige’s face shifted to confusion at the same time as yours, the two of you sitting up on the bed as if that would help you detect the sound faster. Just as you were about to ask if Allie or Jana had decided to rearrange the furniture, you heard a clearer sound: high pitched moans, followed by a series of bang, bang, bang. You watched your girlfriend realize at the same time that these sounds were most certainly coming from the apartment above hers, sending you both into a fit of roaring laughter.

“Oh my God.” Paige chokes, throwing her head back and grabbing your arm to stabilize herself.

“I really hope we’re not that loud.” You cracked a joke, not expecting anything of it. That is until Paige looks at you in a way that screams “you can’t be serious” and you can feel your heart drop. “Paige, why are you looking at me like that?”

Paige bit her lip, nodding a few times for courage before saying, “Jana said she’s definitely heard us a few times.”

You groan loudly, flopping on the bed once more. “Kill me,” you plead, voice muffled by the pillows.

“I like the noises you make.” Your girlfriend comforts you between her laughs, rubbing your back. You stand, feeling as though pacing in her room will help work off some of the complete and utter embarrassment you were feeling right now. Sure, you knew you and Paige weren’t exactly the quietest. But receiving confirmation that others had heard you in your most vulnerable state was humbling to say the least.

“It’s not my fault I’m dating the horniest girl on the planet,” you quipped in an effort to make yourself feel better. You watch as your girlfriends jaw drops, her head cocking to the side.

“Woah,” she all but yells, her head shaking. “I’m the horny one?”

Her expression is so comical, with her eyes practically bulging out of her head, you can’t hep but crack a smile as you defend your position. “You initiate constantly.”

“You initiate just as much as I do! Plus all those photos you send me on away games.”

You blush, remembering all the nights alone where the bed seems just a little too cold without your tall blonde girlfriend by your side. Nights where you open the drawer of various lingerie you and/or Paige had picked out throughout the years. It was a winning move all around: you got to feel sexy with every snap you sent to Paige, both of you got off to it, and it usually meant that your sex after she returned was even better. “Yeah, because I know you like them.”

“There’s no way I’m hornier than you, bro.” She throws her hands up. To be fair, as you watch her sit on her bed legs spread apart, donning a grey Nike hoodie and black sweats, you think she may have a point. This doesn’t stop an idea from popping in your head.

You sauntered over to her, legs straddling one of hers as she looked at you curiously. You sat yourself down, hands reaching under the hoodie and lightly tracing at bare skin. “Okay, prove it.”

“Huh?” She asked, her voice gravelly. I got the advantage already, you think to yourself mischievously.

“First person to initiate sex loses.” You propose, expecting an absolutely not from her. To your surprise, she seems even more intrigued.

“Ok, what does the winner get?”

You think for a moment. “Bragging rights,” you decide, adding. “and the choice of movie on movie night for the next month.” Though you both cherish your movie nights when you’re able to sneak them into the week, trying to agree on a movie is a battle.

“Deal,” Paige sticks her hand out, acting like some sort of businessman. You play along, accepting her firm grip, which she used to pull you in closer, her gaze still roaming your body. “and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Her head moved closer and closer. You could feel her breath on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. She peppered a few light kisses on the back of your ear before whispering, “I think we both know who’s going to win this, baby.”

Two days after the bet

This may be the worst idea you’ve ever had.

In the hours after you first proposed this little competition, the rules as to what counted as initiating became more explicit. Kissing, grinding, and the like were all okay as long as third base was not crossed. Should be easy enough, you thought, recognizing that you could do a majority of your favorite acts of intimacy without forfeiting.

What you failed to consider is just how much more appealing sex was when you knew you couldn’t have it. Little things from seeing a sliver of Paige’s toned torso as her shirt rode up reaching for the top shelf to how her hair got wavy after she had taken a post-practice shower got a reaction out of you these days . You were going insane, and yet your girlfriend appeared to be cool and collected. You truly should have expected this. There was no universe where Paige Bueckers wouldn’t be competitive, even over some dumb shit like this.

So when you woke up in her bed, approximately 30 minutes before her alarm to get ready for the bus taking her to a game in New York, you planned to change that. Gently loosening the grip she had around you, you reach you head up to pepper kisses on her cheeks, watching her stir before blinking her eyes open. Once they are able to somewhat focus on you, she offers a tired smile. “Mmmm, good morning to you too.”

Her hand cups your face, connecting you in a sweet kiss. You got her exactly where you want her. You let yourself melt into the kiss for just a moment before swinging a leg around to straddle her. Though the blonde was never much of a morning person, she suddenly seemed a lot more awake. Reaching for the bottom of Paige’s crewneck that you borrowed (stole), you pulled it over your head before throwing it to the ground with the rest of Paige’s clothes. This action sent Paige’s line of vision straight to your breasts, which you kneaded in your hands as you lightly ground down on her pajama covered crotch.

“Shit, Y/N,” She was seemingly mesmerized, unable to resist and you lean down and capture her lips once more, both of you a lot needier than before. Her tongue slips in, and it takes everything in you to pull away long enough to nibble at her ear.

“We got time before you have to make your bus.”

Her hands reach around to feel your waist, before coming back around to cup your tits. “Oh really?”

You nod, humming as you feel your victory is imminent. “You gonna give in, Bueckers?”

“Oh hell no,” her eyes widen, her movement in her hands stopping abruptly before removing contact entirely, a move you were less than pleased by. Still on top of her, you raise your eyebrows, an action which she returns. “What, you seriously thought I was gonna lose from that?”

Damn, she really didn’t have to be that harsh. “Ouch.”

Her laughter comes to a halt, her expression softening as she brushes your hair out of your face. “You were so sexy, you always are.” She gushes. “But I told you; if anyone here is losing this challenge, it’s you.”

You whip your leg back around, moving to a standing position and grabbing the discarded crewneck before throwing it back on. “Whatever,” you sulk.

“It’s a shame, too.” Paige follows your lead, moving to a standing position and grabbing your waist, making it abundantly clear just how much taller she is. She puts a finger under your chin, lifting so you’re forced to make eye contact. “I was getting real excited about being inside you.”

You have to physically hold yourself back from shivering at the comment, not wanting to show Paige just how much pressure was between your legs. “Go pack,” you crack a small smile, gesturing to her almost empty duffle.

Six days after the bet

Paige was off at an away game, this time much farther than just a state away. This required her to spend two nights away from Storrs, making the challenge just a little bit easier. Sure, you missed your girlfriend. But considering the circumstances it was nice to not have such a close reminder of how much you wanted to jump her bones.

You kept yourself busy the days she was gone with classes, extracurriculars, and time spent with friends at the student union. By the time you got back to your apartment the second night she was gone, you were completely wiped out, midterm week beginning to take a toll on you. Upon checking your notifications waiting for you while your phone was on do not disturb, you spot a snapchat notification from Paige. Sitting on your bed, you open it.

She’s sat in what appears to be her hotel room, snapback hat covering the top of her head. Her tongue is all the way out, paired with the caption “Miss you my sweet girl. Can’t wait for munch madness.”

While on any other day you would only be hyper focused on the pure absurdity of the photo, her tongue and the implications in the message had a downright embarrassing effect on you. Preparing to send back a more normal photo, your eyes make contact with the top drawer of your dresser, reserved for very specific articles of clothing. Two could play at that game.

Your red set had always been her favorite. You bought it at a smaller boutique towards the beginning of your relationship. Paige went so feral over how it hugged and accentuated every curve of yours the first night you wore it. You brought this set out on rare occasions, but figured this was enough of a reason to dust it off.

You knew exactly what angles she liked, showing off your body while disguising your face just enough to feel comfortable sending it. So when Paige sent back a chat which read "You’re gonna be the death of me,” you relished in the small victory you reached over her.

What are you thinking about? You send back, which Paige reads immediately.

How good you’d look sucking my cock in that, pretty girl.

The message nearly makes you choke on your own spit. It wasn’t every day that Paige brought out the strap. Many days, the two of you preferred intimacy just before bed, with Paige trailing her fingers under your pajama pants and you eating her out under the covers. But in some occasions, whether it be moments after a win or other times Paige was feeling particularly cocky, best believe she was ready to have you bent over seven different ways.

Want it so bad. You almost cringe at just how desperate you sound, but who could blame you?

Paige’s bitmoji popped up and down a few times, pondering before sending; Going to bed soon. See you tomorrow ;)

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you groan as your head hits your pillow. If you couldn’t have the real thing right now, you would at least settle for Paige talking (texting?) you through an orgasm. More frustrated than when you started, you reach a hand into your lace underwear, seemingly gone to waste.

And when Paige returns the next day and is able to stray from touching you outside of a quick makeout session, you wonder whether or not this bet was even worth it - you would be perfectly fine sitting through Disney movies for the next month if it meant your girlfriend could at least fuck you afterwards. But more than anything, you were still playing for your pride. After all, you knew this was the kind of shit that Paige would never let you forget.

Two weeks after the bet

After your failed seduction via Snapchat, you ruled it wasn’t worth it to try to get Paige to fold, and that your energy was much better used in not getting yourself to give in. Thankfully, your girlfriend had been booked and busy with two more games, one of which was a home game you attended. When it got to the point where Paige’s arguments with the refs were beginning to turn you on instead of simply make you laugh, you knew you were in deep, deep shit.

There were very, very few times you were forced to resort to masturbation typically, Not that there was any shame in it, its just that you always had Paige to help you out. Even if her schedule forced you to wait a few extra hours or even a day to get your release, it was a negotiation you were willing to take. Even though you knew your own body and what you liked, Paige seemed to have your body memorized, knowing just how much pressure to put on your clit and the precise second to speed up. Masturbation was essentially reserved for when Paige was physically not in the same state, and even then she helped where she could (as was to your detriment last week).

However with Paige gone at a practice on a Friday night and your friends all refusing to go out in the pouring rain, you were left alone in your one bedroom apartment and bored. That combined with the arousal that had been pooling inside you for weeks now was a lethal combination.

You tried to starve it off, you really did. You left the door unlocked for Paige later, just in case practice got off on time (it nearly never did) and she had time to swing by your place. A little part of you hoped she would break tonight, give you exactly what you needed. But at this point, the chances of that happening were sounding less and less likely, even to the most delusional section of your mind.

So you spent your night eating leftovers and binge watching your current Netflix fixation, trying to ignore how you would much rather be spending your night. Your legs rub together in your bed, soft and smooth from your nighttime shower routine. Pressing your thighs together, you sigh, unable to resist. Fuck it.

After shutting your laptop and placing it on your bedside table, you remove your pajama pants, tossing them to the floor. You could feel yourself dripping even from outside your underwear, breaking any last reservations you had on indulging in self pleasure. Reaching in, you put pressure on your clit, immediately melting into the touch.

Unknown to you, practice for UConn didn’t get out on time this night - it got out early, an uncharacteristic move for Geno who felt that the players would be better off resting their bodies before their upcoming games after a long week of practice than another hour of running the same drills. Though normally Paige would use this extra time to go to Ted’s with the rest of the team, she was more than happy to return home to you - even if this stupid bet was still going on.

The truth is, Paige had been just as wound up all week. If the two of you weren’t equally as competitive, she likely would have forfeited in the first three days. Honestly, its not like she would necessarily disagree that she was the hornier one out of the two of you - I mean, anyone who saw you would be. It was the definitiveness in your voice that got to her. She always loved proving people wrong.

She knew your door was unlocked, but gave it a light tap just to notify you of her presence. Normally this would prompt a “come in” or “it’s open”, but this time she was met with nothing except for the muffled sounds of your neighbors pregaming. Curious, she opened the door, walking into your living room with a call, “babe?”

Though you heard her, your brain was slow to process, too focused on the sweet relief you were getting. As you heard footsteps pad towards your room, you finally developed enough sense to slow your breathing, about to will yourself to remove your hand when the door swung open, all six feet of your sweaty, rain soaked girlfriend standing in the arch.

For a beat, the two of you looked at each other like deer in headlights, your hand still in your panties and her jaw on the floor She noticed the same moment you did, her eyes trailing as you quickly removed the digits.

Paige slowly set her backpack on the floor, blue eyes still never leaving you. Her gaze was filled with something you couldn’t quite detect - was it anger? She made a slow stride over to you, her hands shoved in her pockets, and you realize just how dilated her pupils had become. Nope, definitely not anger. More like pure arousal, mixed with admiration.

“Keep going,” Her voice is low, accent thick. You want to question it, but she adds on a,“Please.”

Shocked yet intrigued, you slowly trail your hand back down, tracing your nipple and lightly kneading the soft tissue of your breast. Paige licked her lips, watching the show you were putting on intently. Her pupils dilated as you finally make your way to your cotton panties, hooking your fingers under the sides and pulling them down just enough to give yourself more mobility and add more visual appeal for Paige. Paige hardly had time to be embarrassed by how much of an effect your wet pussy had on her after a two week drought, not when you immediately sunk a finger in while maintaining your hungry stare on her.

There was a beat of silence, the only sound in the room being the faint suction of your core gratefully accepting the relief from your middle finger. You don’t know whether it was the fact that you hadn’t cum with your girlfriend in weeks, or the fact that she was staring at you hungrily, but you couldn’t hold back the moan that raged through you, ending in a sharp whine. Paige inhaled, her eyes shutting as if she couldn’t bare to look. Exhale. Then, the silence was broken.

“Fuck it.”

You hardly had time to blink before she was on you, a hand reaching down and borderline yanking your hand away from your clit, replacing it with hers. The other hand reached for your face, connecting your lips as her fingers began making messy circles.

You melted into the kiss, thankful for the way it muffled your moans as Paige slipped a finger in, still paying good attention to your puffy clit. Your legs began to tighten, and you could almost cry because of how overwhelming it all was. You never thought just fourteen days without sex would do such a number on you, as you and Paige has certainly gone longer, but the fact that it was forbidden combined with the knowledge that you got her to snap like she did caused a rush of warmth to your core.

“You feel so good.” Paige’s voice comes out muffled by your lips, her breath labored. You love when she does this, riling herself up just by getting you off. “Missed this pussy so much.”

“Paige, please,” you don’t quite know what you are begging for, but the pure desperation in Paige’s voice has done a number on you. After over a week of feeling like the needy one, the way Paige is fucking you now is nothing short of satisfying and you need more. “Need you so bad.”

“I know, I know.” She whines, her face hiding in the crook of your neck. She was convinced if she took one look at you while you were asking (no, begging) her for more, she wouldn’t be able to hold back from cumming in her pants. Between sloppy kisses to soft skin, she babbles, “I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise. Gonna make you cum.”

That was Paige in a nutshell. No matter how tired she was, or how much the ache between her legs begged for her attention, she put your orgasm before hers always. She paid attention to the way your breath quickened, your legs becoming impossibly stiff, and she whispered, “You close?”

All you could do was nod, so focused on your release that forming coherent sentences was not in the cards for you at the moment. “Go ahead, wanna feel it.”

Your release rushed through you, warm and all encompassing, and it took all your strength to remain somewhat quiet as you exhaled through it, your moans coming out more as whines if anything. As your breath steadied, Paige’s mouth returned to yours, this time more sweet as she brought you back down.

In your post-orgasm glow, you widen your eyes just enough to look at your girlfriend, the front tendrils of her hair damp from both sweat and the storm outside. A blush floods her face as she grins at you, prompting you to pull her down for a kiss.

“Wanna use my mouth on you, that okay?”

Paige nods, her eyes wide and breath labored from the performance she just gave to you. The two of you switch positions, her laying down on your pillows while you crawled over her, moving down her body. Though you wanted nothing more that for her to just sit back and relax as you showed her just how grateful you were for her, she did aid you in removing her drenched hoodie, the two of you laughing as it momentarily got stuck on her head (in any other circumstance you would scold her for laying in your bed with wet clothes, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment).

You kiss down her torso, watching her toned core flex in reaction as she inhales sharply. Her hands reach down to your shoulders, and you know exactly what she wants - she would just never outright ask. Looking up, eyes wide, you smile sweetly. “Grab my hair, baby.”

She sighs, fingers interwoven in your hair as you make work on her pants, pulling them down along with the boxers you love so much. You press gentle kisses to her inner thighs, ignoring the area begging for your attention until Paige huffs, “please, waited long enough. Want you so bad. Need you so bad.”

You bite back a grin, loving just how vocal your girlfriend gets. Giving in, you press a gentle lick to your girlfriends core, feeling her thighs tense in reaction, before giving her all of you and finding her waiting clit.

“There you go, good girl. Oh fuck,” She melts into your bed, eyes rolling into the back of her head as she’s overwhelmed by the sensation. Unlike you, who at least got the opportunity to indulge in self-pleasure, she never had the time, either spending her nights with you, in a hotel room with her teammates, or too tired after a long day of practice. Wanting to make the most of your handiwork, she moved one hand to the side of your face. “Look at me”

Still sucking at her clit, you lift your head slightly, and she cries out as she sees just how drunk off of her you look, doe eyes watering as you lap her up. It’s all just too much for the blonde as she struggles to maintain her breathing, feeling familiar sensations way quicker than she normally should.

“I’m close… I’m gonna cum… fuck.” The words tumbled out of Paige’s mouth in quick succession, as if she severely underestimated just how quick she was to tipping over the edge. With a groan, her grip on the back of your head tightened as she met her release, your tongue lapping it up like it was your last meal.

You wait until she rides out her orgasm before crawling back up, her hands meeting your waist to help. You collapse next to her, head raising just in time to meet her waiting lips.

“Love the way you taste,” you hum in satisfaction, prompting a smile from your girlfriend. You lived for the come down after sex, where it felt like it was just you and Paige alone on this earth, nothing and nobody else to worry about. She rubbed at your back, and you get so wrapped up in the domesticity of it all you almost miss the next words out of her mouth.

“You got one more in you, baby?”

“What?” You croak, looking at her as if you must have misheard. You thought the two of you were on the same page, having cum so hard you couldn’t imagine having space for anything more than passing out next to her.

That is until Paige finds enough energy and strength in her legs to stand, backing up towards your dresser while still facing you with a smirk on her face. “You didn’t think I was joking when I was telling you how bad I want you to suck me off, did you?”

Fuck. Though you were tired before (and still are), you can’t deny the way warmth floods south, already wound up again after hearing the sounds Paige made as she released. You nod, and Paige opens the top drawer.

In this moment especially, you’re grateful for Paige’s idea to get two straps, one for each of your apartments. “More convenient that way,” she had said with a wink. Paige adjusted the harness to herself, her movements only faltering for a moment when she noticed you drop to your knees, Calvin Klein bralette still on.

“You know what to do if you need me to stop, right sweet girl?” Her thumb traces your cheek sweetly. You nodded, having done this just enough times to establish a gesture (three taps on Paige’s inner thigh) to indicate you needed a rest. You’ve never had to use it - Paige just absolutely refused to put herself in a position where she could hurt her sweet girl without safety measures.

You inch closer, offering gentle kitten licks to the tip of the dildo before opening your mouth to let it rest on your tongue. Paige, gentle yet firm, pushes you down a little further, and you inhale through your nose praying that you don’t gag so early on. Your thumb is caught in a fist on your non dominant hand, the other one wrapping around the remainder of the strap as you bob up and down.

“Fuck, thats it.” Paige groans as the back of your throat betrays you, resulting in a choking sound and a pool of saliva on the toy. When your eyes meet hers, watery yet determined, she sighs. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You remove your lips with a pop, gaze never wavering. “Need to be inside you, please.”

Paige, never one to deny your request, aided you in a standing position, hands at your waist as she backed you towards your bed, until the two of you were forced to crawl on top. Biting her bottom lip, she circles your core a few times before allowing herself to sink in, and both of you gasp at the intrusion as if the dick was truly a part of her.

“So big… you’re so big.” You whimpered as she began plowing into you, lifting one of your legs to where your knee was nearly to your chest. The sounds your pussy made as it gripped Paige’s cock were sinful, prompting a smirk from the girl above you.

“So scared of people hearing huh? Why’s this pussy screaming for me then?” Paige taunted, watching the purple dildo slip in and out. The room filled with slapping of skin and Paige’s cock genuinely swimming inside you - you can’t remember the last time you felt (or sounded) like this.

“Such a fucking tease all week, winding me up so bad.” Paige continued, her voice gravelly as she watched your tits bounce up and down with each thrust. Licking her lips, she added, “Just needed a good fuck, didn’t you?”

Your eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of the strap stretching you out. She was consuming all of you, from your pussy to your mind, and you forgot to respond until her hand grabbed your waist, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough pressure to snap your attention back towards her. “Words, sweet girl. I know you know how to use them.”

“Paige, please. Wanna feel you in me,” Your words come out as broken sobs as she stilled herself, reaching down to play with your overstimulated clit just to feel something. You feel Paige offer a shallow thrust, but it isn’t good enough, you want more. Observing the way her brows furrowed in a last attempt to maintain control, you pout. “Wanna feel you cum inside me.”

You didn’t fully understand the grip those six words would have on her, not until in what felt like one movement she flipped you around, your knees planted on the bed and back arched as she entered you once more, both of you moaning at the contact as she drove into you like it was her mission. All of your senses were overwhelmed; your ears filled with the sound of your ass pushing back against the strap only to bounce back, mixed with Paige’s stuttering breath. Your head pressed close to the pillow, giving easy access to smell your freshly washed sheets. Turning your head to the side to breath, you could see your full length mirror capture the point where you and Paige met, the sight bringing you to the edge.

You’re sure two weeks ago you would have been utterly humiliated at the cry that leaves your mouth as your orgasm washes over you, but when mixed with Paige’s groans of “fuck”, you couldn’t give less of a shit if your neighbors heard. By now, they definitely knew Paige’s name.

Paige collapsed on you, strap still inside your spent core until she musters enough strength to roll over to her side. The two of you took a moment to catch your breath, unsure of the last time you had gone that hard. Finally, still covering the top of her face with her arms, Paige breaks into a chuckle, which I catch.

“Holy shit.”

“Don’t say it.” She says, her voice deadpan. I take one look at her flushed cheeks, hair a messy collection of blonde tresses, and consider sparing her from my gloating. But after two long weeks, I feel passing up on the opportunity would be a waste.

“you lost the…”

“I know.” Paige groans, though her smile reveals she’s not being serious. “You try hearing your pretty little moans and not fucking you. It’s physically impossible.”

You laugh, moving to cuddle next to her as she haphazardly disposes of the strap, tossing it along with the various articles of clothing (you made a mental note to wash it later). “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think any of my actions the past week have proven I’m any less horny than you.”

Paige shrugged, arms wrapping around you and pulling your head into her chest, her lashes fluttering in a failing attempt to stay awake. “It’s why we work so well together, I guess.”

The two of you lay there, your breath matching hers, ready to put this stupid bet to rest along with yourselves. Reaching for the remote for your fairy lights to turn them off, you turn to her. “Just so you know, we’re watching a horror movie on Friday.”

“Worth it.”

[touchedmeacrosscenturies]

pathetic bf!seunghyun (headcannons) ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

summary: bf!seunghyun who is incredibly down bad for his gf.

an: hello! this is my first fic on this account, im so excited to share it with you. i hope you enjoy <3 (ALSO, please ignore any spelling/grammar errors i didn’t proofread.)

bf!seunghyun who: didn’t care for love/relationships until he met you.

bf!seunghyun who: swears carless whisper by george micheal played in his head when he laid eyes on you for the first time.

bf!seunghyun who: likes to spend his down time making you playlists and/or writing you songs/raps. he likes to communicate through music.

bf!seunghyun who: calls you sweet girl and thinks it fits perfectly. you are his sweet girl. he thinks youre the sweetest, most angelic being hes ever met.

bf!seunghyun who: will agree to just about anything for your sake (“yeah i dont know, i just dont really feel like going out today” he mummered to jiyong, burying himself further into the fluffy cloud that was his bed, dead set on spending his night curled in bed. until you walked into the room. “seunghyun, lets go out tonight, i need to get out of this house.” seunghyun shot out of bed, unraveling himself from the covers and intertwined your hands, “yeah, sweet girl, lets go.” suddenly alive and full of energy. unaware of jiyong snickering behind him.

bf!seunghyun who: genuinely believes he cant go more than an hour without having his hands on you in someway. wether that be his hand in yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers curled in your hair, or his fingers inside, yes inside the waist of your jeans, resting against the warmth of your skin.

bf!seunghyun who: when you two sleep has to either be little spoon or lay on top of you (while you scratch his back.)

bf!seunghyun who: is only comfortable with you touching him

bf!seunghyun who: literally calls/texts you every chance he gets. in between recordings, while in the bath, while getting his hair done. he’ll text you every thought that crosses his mind. (itll be three in the morning and youll get a text from him like, “i just realized, nothing is ON fire. fire is on THINGS.”)

bf!seunghyun who: does things for you he knows you can do yourself, such as, brushing and drying your hair after a shower, carrying you from place to place in your shared apartment, brushing your teeth, grabbing things that are just out of reach, tieing your shoes, no matter how much you insist you’re perfectly cable. he cant help it; youre his angel.

bf!seunghyun who: genuinely tears up when you get mad at him (you immediately feel horrible and give in.)

bf!seunghyun who: loves to lay his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair (he falls asleep immediately.)

bf!seunghyun who: hangs onto every word you say. he’ll remember something you vaguely told him months later. (“hey, sweet girl, i got you one of those sun…sunny…sonny..angels…whatever you call them,” he said when he came home from the store, placing the sonny angel box on your lap, then, planting gentle kisses onto the corners of your lips, your nose, your temple, your eyelids. you smile, wondering how the hell he knew you wanted one. you giggle, placing your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb across his soft skin as he leans into your touch, “how’d you know i wanted one?” he looked at you as though the answer was obvious, “you mentioned it when you saw a tiktok video in..may” may was 8 months ago?)

bf!seunghyun who: apologizes by getting on his knees, putting his head in your lap, and kissing your hands profusely. muttering over and over how sorry he is and how he’ll do better.

bf!seunghyun who: follows you around everywhere like a little cat. always hovering over your shoulder. if you guys are sitting on the couch and you get up to get a glass of water, trust, he’ll get up and go with you with a content smile on his face. he has attachment issues.

bf!seunghyun who: when your making out and you pull away, looks at you, breathing all hard, like he physically needs more.

bf!seunghyun who: when he has to travel for work will send you a poem a day. (“hey, sweet girl, you will never be unloved by me. you are too well tangled in my soul; hello, my sweet girl, my heart is so full of you i can hardly call it my own. love you always.”)

bf!seunghyun who: is completely obsessed with you.

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

•°. *࿐ PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader •°. *࿐ SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. •°. *࿐ GENRE ― one-shot, friends-to-???, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au •°. *࿐ WORD COUNT ― 20.9k (yeah, i went kinda crazy) •°. *࿐ CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(fighting), cursing, high school, mc has a shitty ex-bf, cheating(not riki obviously), almond grandma(mentioned), a singular cigarette is smoked, mc is shorter than riki, riki can also pick mc up, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, mc has hair (texture and length unspecified, but can be put up), objectification of girls(not riki tho), mc objectifies boys back, dreamy riki, not suggestive or smutty but mc is absolutely a horndog, mc is her own worst enemy, mc using riki to get back at her ex but he likes it, i did not edit this lmao •°. *࿐ EXTRA NOTES ― inspired by euphoria and my hs experience, riki is a loser and a lover, implied that mc is 18, eunseok(riize) is an absolute asshole in this sorry guys i needed a villain, enha are all in the same grade, mc wears makeup and has a manicure of an unspecified length, mc has sick lore, also shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for digitally holding my hand thru this <3 •°. *࿐ SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, hiss by megan thee stallion, low by sza, i did something bad by taylor swift, without you by lana del rey, agora hills by doja cat, girls like me don’t cry by thuy, only girl (in the world) by rihanna, safety net by ariana grande, snooze by sza

part two

AT THE BEGINNING OF 2024, you lost for the first time in your life.

Finding your boyfriend of two years making out with a girl you know too well as Lee Nayeon, your best friend, on the Carrara marble countertop of your family home that you had trusted her to take care of for eight days while you were in New York was not on your New Year’s resolution. You had planned to stay to see the Times Square Ball Drop with your mom and stepdad, but you realized you’d prefer to spend it with your boyfriend.

He didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, considering he has his tongue down the traitorous bitch’s throat. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She screams, both of them startled by your appearance and scrambling off of each other. You feel an urge to slam her face into the precious marble they were defiling, but you stay where you are. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It isn’t what you think, babe—“

The speed at which Nayeon’s eyes filled with guilty and horrified tears fuels your rage, and behind you, Bahiyyih appears.

“Look who’s back—oh?” She stops beside you, arm hovering to wrap around you until she sees what you’re seeing. “Eunseok? Since when were you back from Stanford?”

“Since he’s been fucking Nayeon, apparently.” 

The barbie-haired girl’s eyes widen, and as she looks between the two she notices the same things you’re painfully aware of. Nayeon’s smeared lip gloss, her tears, Eunseok’s undone jeans, and the sparkly residue on his mouth. “Oh…”

Nayeon’s whimper as she slides off the counter snaps you out of your daze, “You’re crying?” The angry tears forming in your eyes go unshed as you walk closer to her, “You fuck my boyfriend, and you’re fucking crying?”

Anger turns to fury when the boy in question gets between you and her, pleading to let him explain, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you away, only for you to jerk away, “Okay, I won’t touch you, just let me explain—“

“How long?”

“What? Babe, this isn’t-“

“How long have you been fucking him?” Your question is directed at who you thought was your friend, who avoids looking at you as she silently weeps. Scoffing, you realize you won't get a straight answer and choose to reel in your urge to beat her face in with one of your stepdad's bowling trophies that’s on display a few steps away. “Get out.”

“Babe, let me—“

The attempts at holding in your temper are lost on you, quickly forgotten as you walk over to the fireplace, grabbing the fire poker hanging up and holding it up. Nayeon lets out a scared, oh my God, while Eunseok tries to calm you down, demanding you put down the weapon. Instead of that, you walk past them, out the front door, ignoring Bahiyyih’s, “No, no, no—”

Eunseok’s red Mustang sits prettily in the driveway, and you can hear him realizing what you intend to do, but it’s too late for him. You slam the poker down onto the hood of his car, “Get. Out!”

“You crazy bitch, what is wrong with you?!” He screams, and you find yourself screaming back.

“Take your side piece and get. Out!” You slam the poker down again, and in minutes he’s got Nayeon in the passenger seat and is peeling out of your driveway like it’s on fire.

If rage had a physical human form, you would be it. Clenched jaw, a deadly weapon in your hands, and a white-hot fury in your eyes that promised to make those two regret crossing you.

The amount of junk food you have consumed in the last week would’ve sent your almond grandmother into an early grave. Your other friends had been visiting as often as possible to keep you from being alone in your thoughts for too long, offering to take you out or go shopping, yet the thought of possibly seeing either of those backstabbing fuckers in public made you sick to your stomach.

Pride didn’t allow you to cry, so instead of sadness and heartbreak, which you definitely felt but would never admit to, you felt pure seething fury.

“So I’ve been thinking,” You take a drag from the cherried slim between your fingers, exhaling towards the sky as you lean against the side of the pool.

From her spot on the lawn chair sunbathing, Belle says. “You can’t kill them.”

“I can, you’re just a party pooper.”

“The party should not include going to prison for murder.” Her statement makes you roll your eyes, “You aren’t built for prison, babe.”

“Well, that I can agree with,” You sigh, the water shifting around you as you turn to face her, arms resting on the edge, “but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.”

Pausing, you take one last drag from your cigarette before smothering it into the stone, “One of the things about him that pissed me off to no end was his temper, right?”

Remembering the many conversations and rants had and heard, Belle nods, “Mhm.”

“So what if I date someone I know will piss him off?”

“If that’s what you think will help you heal, then…” She trails off, and you groan.

“Why can’t you just say it’s an amazing idea?” 

“Girl…” Sighing, she asks, “I just don’t think a third party should be involved.”

“He already got one involved, so why can’t I?” 

Making a face that screams, well you’ve got a point, Belle then adds, “I think you should find someone who pisses him off but they should be aware of your plans. Don’t lead someone on.”

A cunning smile grows on your glossy lips, “I’m not.”

“Oh, so you already have someone in mind?” She gathers with a growing smile of disbelief, “Please tell me it isn’t one of his frat brothers.”

You grimace at the thought, “Ew, no. The only one of them remotely dateable is Wonbin and that’s meeting the bare minimum standards.”

Shrugging, Belle offers, “At least they're hot?”

“Hot does not equal dateable, plus I hardly believe any of them would date their friend’s ex anyway.” Shaking your head, you push yourself out of the pool and sit on the ledge to let yourself drip dry, “What about one of the lacrosse guys?”

“You say no to a frat boy but not a lacrosse player?” 

“I know, I know, but at least I have eyes on them instead of hoping they're being loyal in another city.” You put a hand above your eyes to block out the sun, “Me knowing the coach kind of helps, no?”

“If loyalty is your goal then good luck, bitch.” Belle snorts, sipping from the pink bendy straw sticking out of her Dr Pepper bottle, “Lacrosse players are mansluts.”

“I know that, but…” You push yourself to stand, grabbing the towel Belle holds out when she hears the sound of your feet leaving the water, her eyes still closed and covered by a pair of Prada sunglasses, “I have a few options.”

“The only, as you put it, ‘remotely dateable’-“ she emphasizes those two words with quotations using her perfectly manicured fingers, “-lacrosse players are Jay and Sunoo. Jay is taken and Sunoo friendzones every apretty girl he meets.”

“I don’t know, Jungwon’s cute.” You think aloud, placing a hand on your hip, “He’s just a tight ass.”

“And therefore undateable.” She finishes for you. “What about the baseball team?”

“Eunseok plays, I’m trying to not be reminded of him.”

Belle hums in acknowledgment, “Let me look at the Lacrosse team's insta.”

You pull the claw clip out of your hair as you wait, patting your body dry until she holds out her phone for you to look at. Taking it with your dry hand, you examine the team photo.

You recognize the majority of them, rolling your eyes at a few familiar ones before your eyes land on one particular member of the team you don’t recognize. “Who’s number 10?”

Handing it back, you walk over to the oversized Hall & Oates shirt you’d stolen from your brother’s room(he left a lot of his clothes when he moved out, something about ‘finding his style). You hear the tap of her nails on the screen a few times before she answers, “Some guy named Niki? Or Riki? He doesn’t have any posts on his profile but in the photos he’s tagged in he’s called either of those names.” She gasps, a cackle escaping her lips, “Some of these are his mom tagging him in baby photos, please come look!”

Leaning over, you peek at her screen, “Oh my god, I would die.” You can’t help but giggle as she scrolls, this woman’s Instagram is a gold mine of childhood photos of this guy. “Okay, I feel weird looking at his baby photos, show me the other ones he’s tagged in.”

“On it.” Belle affirms, “Let’s go inside, too.”

“Okay, so-“ Belle stands before a whiteboard, one that your stepdad used to use before upgrading his office to have a massive one mounted on the wall, a pink dry-erase marker uncapped in her hands as she looks down at her phone for reference. After a quick text to the group chat, a brief summary of your plan was explained when everyone got to your house, and it seemed that everyone was invested. “-are we all in attendance.”

Jongseob is eating cereal in the white tufted chair in the corner of your room, Eunchae is in the bean bag, and Bahiyyih is on the floor between them, lined up like a good audience. 

“We’re making a pros and cons list for Riki Nishimura,” Belle announces, writing his name on the whiteboard as ‘Niki’ between the two names, “feel free to interject when you have a pro or con to list.”

“Con,” Jongseob raises a finger with his mouth half full, swallowing before saying, “His nickname is stupid.”

“Opinions don’t count, stupid.” Eunchae rolls her eyes, earning the finger from the boy in the chair.

“But like, why is his nickname Niki?” Hiyyih asks, and Jongseon lets out a nearly intelligible ‘thank you!’.

“I assume it’s because there's another Riki on the team,” Belle guesses, and the three nod. You sip the Baja freeze you’d had them pick you up on the way to your house and hum.

“Make an ‘unsure’ column,” you instruct, and she does so, writing ‘nickname kinda dumb’ under it.

“Pro, he’s on the Lacrosse team so he’s fit,” Belle starts, writing it on the board under its labeled column.

“Con, he’s on the lacrosse team.”

A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.

“Pro, from the photos he’s tagged in and the team photo, he’s at least 6’.” Eunchae adds, Belle nods and writes ‘tall’.

“How can you tell?” Jongseob asks, and she rolls her eyes like his question is the most idiotic thing she’s ever heard.

“Because I pass Heeseung in the halls from 5th to 6th period and in these photos, this guy looks a little taller than him.” She explains, and you hold a hand up when Jongseob opens his mouth to insult her.

“Con, no instagram posts.”

“Pro, I just found a pic from Jake’s insta and I can see him in the back. He’s got abs.” (Thank you, Bahiyyih.)

By the time the sun has set, the whiteboard is packed, the pros heavily outweighing the cons. You had even searched the large group chat you were added into on Snap in freshman year full of girls you barely know who dated around and kept each other informed, and found his name zero times. 

“I think he’s the one.” You sigh.

Jongseob snorts, pulling the cherry soda vape from his lips and asking, “Why do you think Eunseok will hate him?”

“He hates Lacrosse guys ‘cause he didn’t make the team, I figured it would hit a soft spot.” You smile and shrug.

“Hold on, the plot thickens,” Bahiiyih announces, eyes on her phone screen. “Do you guys remember that guy Nayeon had a crush on in freshman year?”

A chorus of confirmation causes her to grin, “I’m pretty sure it was this guy.”

You push yourself off your bed to peek over her shoulder at record speed, “No fucking way. How do you know?”

“I backread in the group chat, and she sent a picture of him, look!” She turns her phone for everyone to see, and from the slightly blurry and oddly angled photo that she obviously tried to take secretly, you can certainly see a resemblance, “Am I hallucinating, or is that him?”

“No that definitely looks like him,” Belle agrees, turning her head to face you with her jaw slack and a look, “He’s the one.”

“How are we gonna convince him to fake date you, though?” Jongseob asks, and you roll your eyes.

“Leave the planning to those qualified, Seob.”

You, all things considered, would call yourself a professional at annoying men. From years of experience before your brother moved out, you learned every which way to annoy him, and more importantly, boys in general. You are also smart enough to understand that his best friend, Jungkook, is your ticket to getting closer to the lacrosse team, aka Riki, even if you have to deal with Jake’s flirting and Heeseung’s annoyingly beautiful smile, you will get through it purely out of spite. 

When you get to school extra early the day before the semester is set to start, parking your car and turning your sights to where you knew he took the team to practice in the mornings, and where you knew he would be even if he and your parents got back from New York just last night. “A hoe never gets cold.” You mumble the chant to yourself over and over as you turn off your car’s engine and the warm air stops blowing. 

You curse rather loudly when you open your door and are met with a frigid breeze that makes your body clench to preserve its warmth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

With your school bag on your shoulder and a thick white puffy jacket lined with fleece that keeps your torso warm, you speed walk toward the field, which the student parking lot happens to be in relative close proximity to. 

The sight of you approaching is enough to stop a good half of the players in their laps around the field, a typical start to Jungkook’s diabolical training regimen. The distraction you pose catches the man of the hour’s attention, and when he turns to face the source, he seems shockingly displeased. With a barked order to keep running thrown at the stopped players, he turns to you again and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Your lips part in dramatic offense, “You seem unhappy to see me and I don’t appreciate it.”

Rolling his eyes and pulling two hotpacks from his bag on the ground and handing them to you, he repeats, “What are you doing at school so early?”

Shrugging, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets and glance at the team, catching the eye of Sunoo and winking as he passes by. “I’m bored and single. What better way to spend my time than watching lacrosse players train in frozen hell?”

Jungkook’s face tells you he’s far less than impressed, and he seems at a loss for words. You decide to let him in on your plan, not seeing any harm in doing so.

“Okay, I’m trying to ruin Eunseok's day, every day, by reminding him I have a hotter, taller, and more athletically skilled boyfriend than he ever was or could be,” You start, “And I’m calling in a favor.”

“What favor? You don’t do shit—“

“Okay then, tell me more about him or I’ll tell my brother about what really happened to his Audi last Christmas.” The Audi in question had a large scuff on the back bumper that Jungkook had paid you three hundred dollars to take the blame for, which while your brother was upset, you knew he’d be far angrier if he knew the truth. Jungkook knew that too.

If the cold wasn’t already doing the job, you would say he lost all color in his face. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you take the moment of his speechless horror to take another glance at the team. 

When you meet the eyes of the familiar boy in a dark red hoodie with the number 10 on it you feel your face warm up involuntarily. Instinctively, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, something that’s never happened to you, and quickly turn back to the coach (not before catching sight of the slight tug at the corner of #10’s plump lips). “So?”

Jungkook sighs, “Which one?”

“Number 10.”

Immediately, the man shakes his head, “Nuh-uh.” At the raise of one of your eyebrows, he quickly explains, “He’s one of my best players, I don’t need him being distracted by my best friend’s kid sister.”

You roll your eyes, “If you have a better option for me, then please, do share.”

“What about Jungwon?” 

“Tight ass,” You say barely a breath later, eyes watching said player jog past, lingering on his backside as he moves away, “In more ways than one.”

“Okay, stop.” Jungkook says, disgust on his face, “What about Taehyun.”

“He’s Dr. Evil and Jungwon is his mini-me, they’re both so strict they’d never agree.”

He makes a face, point heard, before suggesting one last player in a last-ditch effort, “Jak—”

“If the name Jake Sim leaves your mouth I’m setting your Mercedes on fire.” 

His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs. 

“So, tell me about him.”

“Why don’t you go ask?”

You give him a look that read, don’t be fucking stupid.

“Ugh, fine. What do you wanna know?” Jungkook caves, blowing the whistle around his neck, signaling the team to start the next warmup, pushups. 

“What’s his favorite color?” You ask, obviously pulling his leg considering the grin on your face.

“Nishimura!” He immediately calls, and number 10 looks up from his position on the ground. You don’t look longer than a moment, your spine straightening up automatically when his eyes meet yours once again, “What’s your favorite color?”

You don’t look, but you can bet money that he probably looks confused considering your brother’s best friend tells him to ‘just answer the damn question’, and then you hear his voice. 

“Black.”

Fuck, this is bad. The little shit in you wants to say that black isn’t technically a color, that it’s the absence of such, but the thought of looking at him and saying something like that makes your palms go clammy and your heart beat out of your chest. His voice is deep, and with the exertion in it from the warmup, you think you might just have to throw yourself into an active volcano.

“Mine is green, coach!” 

“I didn’t ask, Huening.” Your lips flatten, your hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to giggle. Instinctively, you look at Kai, whose ears have gone red in embarrassment, and you take pity.

“I like green too, Kai.” You say loudly for him to hear, and his head perks up to look at you.

“I like blue!” Jake pipes in, all too eager to include himself.

“Nobody asked, Jake.” Jay grunts, on his hundredth push-up and losing patience.

Jungkook blows the whistle again, “Burpees.”

“You’re a monster.” You muse, watching the team lose all faith in a heavenly being as they do what he says. Every jump grants you the sight of rock-hard abs, so you're not really complaining. 

“Stop ogling the team, it’s gross.” Jungkook hisses, “What else do you want to know?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Type?”

He makes a face, “I don’t know. He’s a teenager, probably anything that breathes in his direction.” 

“Age?”

“Turned 18 in December, the team threw him a pizza party.”

“Beginning or end of December?” You ask quizzically.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook huffs, “Why does it matter?”

“I need to know if I’m dealing with a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Please, please, tell me he isn’t a Capricorn.”

“Jesus Christ…” Thinking about it, Jungkook answers, “I think it was in the first week?”

A sigh of relief leaves you, “Thank god. I cannot stand an earth sign.”

“I’m an earth sign.” 

“And it took me ages to forgive you for that.”

“Okay, go away.” Jungkook shakes his head, obviously annoyed and desperate to get rid of you.

“But I’m not—“

“Nishimura.” Dread fills you, and before you can stop him from opening his mouth again, number 10 stands up.

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Walk this one to her car.”

Confusion is etched on his pretty face, but he nods, jogging over as you curse at Jungkook quietly enough for him and the lord to hear but not the approaching lacrosse player.

When he stands just a few feet away, waiting for you to start walking with him, you turn to face him and feel a jolt in your stomach. He’s tall. 

You already knew this but seeing it with your eyes is a different experience than seeing photos of it. Get a grip, bitch.

Offering him a condescending smile, a defense mechanism to keep yourself from humiliating yourself by showing how affected you are, you shoot your brother’s friend the finger and begin to make your way off the field.

You pass Riki, not even sparing him a look as you do so, but listening to make sure he’s following. With his much longer legs, it isn’t long before he’s walking just slightly behind you, not at your side but close enough for you to sense his presence. When you make it to your car in what felt like awkward silence to you but was probably nothing to him, you heave a sigh of relief when she unlocks and you open the door. 

Not sitting yourself inside yet, despite the cold and the fact your body hurts from it, you turn to face him.

“This yours?” He asks. God, that voice again.

You hum in confirmation, “Her name is Manon.” 

“Nice name.” He compliments, and you tilt your head, looking between his eyes and glancing down to his mouth every so often. He swallows almost unnoticeably, “What’s yours?”

Resisting the urge to ask if he truly didn’t know, you conclude that would sound far too conceited, and tell him your name. 

He tries it out, and you can see the tip of his tongue flick across his teeth before he says, “I’m Riki.”

“I know.” You say shamelessly, “You can go back to practice, now.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the slight smirk that tugs at his lips is of annoyance, but with the way his eyes look down your face every other second, you know exactly what you’re doing. He blinks, turning his body slightly to walk away, “Yeah.”

You wait until his back is to you to slide into your driver’s seat, quickly pulling your phone out to text the group chat.

bitchqueen: guys this is bad

bitchqueen: he’s HOT

bitchqueen: i can’t do this 

Glancing back up to see if Riki left, you sigh in relief when he’s nowhere to be found. You look back down when your phone dings. bellenotdelphine: eunseok bought nayeon a van cleef bracelet

bitchqueen: okay bitches im back

myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations

Going back to school wasn’t so bad, or at least it isn’t as bad you thought it would be. You were the only licensed driver in your friend group, and as such you expected to have a full car every morning, picking up Belle first as she lived down the street, and then Jongseob and Eunchae, who grew up neighbors in a neighborhood you pass on the way to school. Bahiyyih usually gets a ride with her brother, though she does complain his truck still smells like the musky car freshener he spilled back when he got it.

After parking and putting on your shoes that you’d taken off because you hate driving with them on, you had Belle hand you your backpack from at her feet and the four of you exited the car into the frigid weather. “Jesus fuck, why is it so cold?”

Belle huddled by you as you sped walked to the school doors, where you finally took notice of the stares directed your way. Ignoring the staring was the easy part, having a freshman walk up to you and ask, “Hey, is it true you destroyed your boyfriend’s car with a crowbar?” was hard to avoid.

Belle seems ready to tell them to fuck off but you smile sweetly, “It was a fire poker, actually, and destroyed is a strong word. Also, who the fuck are you?”

You got in enough trouble with your parents when they found out, these people could at least get the facts right. When the 14 year old boy opens his mouth to answer, you make a face, “I don’t actually care.”

Ignoring that encounter, you would say it was a relatively normal day. AP classes already gave you packets and mounds of homework, but with the semester classes you took last year you only had 5 periods of the day before being allowed to go home, perks of being a senior, you guess. The fact almost every class you had was an AP class was a definite downside, though.

The only AP class you didn’t have happened to be Medical Microbiology, which you had dreaded to take but it was the same teacher you had last semester for A&P who loved you enough to exempt you from the final without you having to submit the form like everyone else, and luck was on your side it seemed because while you were seething to find that Nayeon was in your 5th period class, the sight of the seating chart and the name labeled next to yours made you decide to postpone ingesting whatever deadly chemical Mrs. Wilson had in her locked cabinet.

Nishimura, Riki

The short curly-haired woman seemed overjoyed to see you, of course, and like clockwork you handed her a small pink box containing her favored cookie from the shop down the road, earning yourself a nice sidehug. 

You know a way to a teacher's heart, which had made your high school experience better than most could imagine, though Mrs. Brooks from Pre-AP English freshman year was a cunt and you gave up on making her like you within the first month. Sitting down at your seat, which happened to be somewhat close to her desk, you were looking down at the packet she’d left stacked on the table by the door for students to take from as they came in when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Growing up with a brother gave you a good understanding of how boys worked, and when you saw no one in your periphery, you looked to the opposite side, seeing the familiar lacrosse player. You dread small talk, though when the late bell rings as he sits down, you thank the heavens you don’t have to. 

Moving your hair off your shoulder, you took a pink mechanical pencil from your matching pencil case as Mrs. Wilson started speaking.

“Hey.” He leans ever so closer, whispering to get your attention, “Can I borrow a pencil?”

The raised eyebrow you send his way makes his raise his own, and you roll your eyes, grabbing one of the orange ones you never used and handing it to him, when you notice his look between the two pencils, you say, “Can’t risk you taking one of my good ones.”

He rolls his eyes this time, but starts writing his name with it anyway. At first, he uses his right hand, but ten minutes into the lecture about the staining process, he switches hands.

It isn’t annoying until he starts intentionally brushing your elbow with his own, and you know it’s intentional because when the word you’re writing comes out jagged and you look at him, he has a smug look on his face while avoiding meeting your eyes, snickering softly when you erase the word you deemed too ugly to continue writing. You turn in your seat, facing away from him and rotating your paper with you as you cross one leg over the other, it was easier writing this way anyway.

With your new angle, you can see Nayeon glancing over every now and then in the corner of your eye. 

Now, to say your reputation wasn’t ruined but in fact reinforced by everyone finding out about what you did to Eunseok’s car, was a factual statement. You didn’t like the term ‘anger management issues’ which is what the therapist your mother made you see last year used to describe your behavior. 

In your humble opinion, Jaclyn Delvacchio deserved the bruise you left on her brow bone and is honestly lucky you didn’t get a good enough hit in before the history teacher pulled you off of her, maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut about Eunchae’s braces.

Then, there was Kaley Graham in your freshman year, a sophomore who told you to stay away from your then-situationship, Eunseok, to which you responded to her threats by grabbing her head and slamming her face into the window of an active classroom. You thought the photos of her face smashed against it were funny, the school and your suddenly-present father did not.

So really, you’re already labeled a crazy bitch, violent, ‘untameable’(as you'd heard uttered by boys you wouldn't touch with a twenty foot pole). You might as well act like it.

When the bell rings 45 minutes later, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally time to go home.

You don’t notice he’s waiting for you until you’ve gathered your things and taken your keys out. He leans against his desk, waiting for you with observant eyes that land on the key-fob in your hand before moving up to your eyes. “Free period?”

You nod, “as are the next two.”

He whistles low as the both of you walk out, “I didn’t get any free periods, you’re lucky.”

“Lacrosse?” You ask, and he nods with a small grimace.

“And I failed Chem last year, so I’ve got to take it again.” He sighs, “I’m not great with all the math.”

“AP?” You ask innocently, and he snorts.

“God no. Regular.” He states, raising a brow as he adds, “Did you take AP?”

You hum, nodding, “Yeah.”

“So, if I come to you with a radiation equation, would you help me?” He asks in a way that almost feels teasing.

“It’s called a nuclear equation, and I suppose I could be persuaded.” You stop in front of the double doors at the front of the school, and from how others are rushing through the halls you assume the bell is going to ring soon.

“Could I try to persuade you after lacrosse practice? I’m gonna be late for Chem.” He says, though his tone is anything but worried, just like the smirk on his face.

“There’s a cafe next to the nail salon down the road, I might be there when lacrosse practice is over.” You hint, before turning to leave without another word.

After texting the group chat about the plan to meet up with Riki after his practice ends, you felt good. Flirting came easy, especially when you wanted something, which obviously was the case with him, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact he was flirting back. 

hueningbarbie: damn u act fast

bitchqueen: i'm just a girl who knows what she wants and gets it ;)

hongchae: do you think he’ll agree?

bitchqueen: if he doesnt i think jake is my only other option

bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win

bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option

bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen

You sit in a worn out booth facing the big wall of windows lining the front of the hole-in-the-wall cafe. Part of you regrets choosing it considering Gloria, the old lady who always takes your order and brings you your food, seemed all too excited when you said you were waiting for a boy that wasn’t Eunseok. 

You try not to look up every time you see a car pull into the strip center of cafes and food joints, only glancing when you see a black Jeep pull into the parking spot next to your car, quickly acting like you weren’t looking when the familiar lacrosse player hopped out of it with wet hair and the same sweatshirt with his jersey number and name on it.

It isn’t until he slides into the booth across from yours that you look up from the menu you weren’t even reading, “How was practice?”

He sighs, leaning back into the booth and you feel his shoe brush yours, “Coach had me on offense,” he says, rubbing his side with a wince.

“Want some tiger balm?” You ask nonchalantly, reaching into your purse to pull out the small container of it you keep to help with the pain you get from looking down and taking notes, not to mention scrolling through social media, too.

He takes it with a whispered please, and you try not to watch as he moves his hand under his shirt to rub it in. Bahiyyih was right.

“Any drinks, mija?” Gloria appears beside your booth with a knowing look on her face as she looks between you two, “and you?”

“Dr Pepper, please.” You order with a smile, and she affectionately rubs your arm with a nod before looking at Riki, who repeats you.

When Gloria walks away to get the drinks, Riki seems curious, “I come here a lot.”

Nodding, he says, “I figured. What’s good, here?”

“Oh, everything is good. Do you recognize anything on the menu?” When he shakes his head, you try not to act offended, and say, “The enchiladas are really good, but if you’re picky I would get the tacos.”

“Mm, I’ll get an enchi-“ he struggles to mimic your pronunciation of the word, and you laugh quietly.

“Enchiladas?” You ask with a cheeky smile, and he scrunches his face up in shame, “It’s okay, it’s hard to say.”

“You’re good at it.” He states, not an opinion, a fact.

“I am.” You agree, and the smile on his face is enough to send your heart into your throat. Get. A. Grip. “Like I said, I come here a lot.”

“So, what do I have to do to persuade you to help me pass Chem?” He asks after Gloria sets down your drinks and takes your orders(sending you a hidden wink as she turns to walk into the kitchen), and you realize now's the time to bring up your plan.

“So, I actually have a proposition for you.” You admit, and he leans forward a little, curious to hear it. When you say it, albeit a slow and awkward version of what you intended to say as the nerves got the better of you because of that damn look in his eyes, you swear you almost see his face drop a little. 

“So you want to…fake date? To make your ex jealous.” He sounds unsure, and you quickly shake your head.

“Not jealous, I kinda just want to ruin his day...everyday.” You state, “I’m the crazy bitch, you’re the hot athlete. Match made in heaven, right?”

He seems to take the ‘hot’ comment well, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “So, what are the rules? If we’re dating, do we have to go all out or just spread the word?”

“Spreading the word only works for so long,” you say, pleased by his question, “Kissing is a bit much, especially since it’s only been a few weeks since I dumped him. If we move too fast everyone will think you’re my rebound. We should take it slow.”

“So…” he thinks for a second, “Holding hands?”

You hum in agreement, “Get me flowers, too.”

“What’s your favorite kind?” The question shouldn’t throw you off, but it hits you rather suddenly that you’d never been asked that by a guy, especially not Eunseok. 

“Lilies.” You say, “And baby’s breath.”

He nods, taking a mental note of that just as Gloria comes out with your food. The enchiladas were a win, he devoured them like he hadn’t eaten for years, though there was a pause in the process when he insisted on trying the salsa you had poured generously over your own food, which was far too spicy for him, to your delight.

You exchanged numbers outside of the restaurant after paying(he had picked up the bill before you could grab it), and as you were putting a name to his number, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

Laughing at the look on your face, he subtly motions behind you, and when you glance back you find about five girls no older than 16 piled into a Corolla and staring, but snapping their eyes away and hiding when you meet their gazes.

Turning back to him, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat when you see he’s already looking at you.

“Good catch.” You cough, ignoring the smug smirk growing in his face, “I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” He says, waiting for you to move away before he does, and you find yourself sucking in a deep breath and turning to get into your car.

“So he agreed?” Belle asks from the passenger seat of your car, “I told you, teenage boys are easy.”

You pull into your parking spot in the school lot, pulling down the ugly parking pass they make you hang from the rearview mirror that you always tuck back up when you leave because it's an eyesore, “We tried to work out the technicalities last night but I fell asleep on the phone.” 

Eunchae gasps as if scandalized, “You fell asleep on the phone with him? That’s so cute.”

You groan, “I know, it’s embarrassing!” Getting out of your car, you try to withhold a groan when you immediately spot Jake practically skipping over, a cheeky grin on his face. Shit.

You don’t hide your displeasure when he calls your name, shooting a giggling Belle the finger before turning to give him attention you know you’d regret, “You and Niki?”

“Is that any of your business?” 

He starts giggling, the grin on his face widening as he starts hopping around like an excited puppy, “No way! You gotta tell me how he fi—“

“Jake!” A girl from the cheer squad calls his name from across the courtyard, and he whirls around to wave with a flirty smile.

By the time he turns back to you, you’re already walking away with the girls. “We’re talking about it in 2nd!”

“No we’re not!” You call back, waving your hand dismissively. Eunchae snorts, hooking her arm with yours as the three of you walk through the entrance. Jongseob had come in early with his other friend group for club prep, so his presence is sorely missed. 

“Do you think he’ll get you flowers?” The junior on your arm asks, and you shrug.

“I mean, maybe.” Your answer makes Belle roll her eyes.

“Manifest it, or…” She stops in front of your 1st class of the day, ready to drop you off, and a grin overtakes her face, “Bitch.”

You step closer to see when she sees, and at your assigned seat is a bouquet of the same flowers you told Riki you liked, pink and white lilies with baby's breath sprinkled in. Habitually, you bite your lip to withhold the smile, sliding your arm out from Eunchae’s and walking in.

The girl who sits next to you, Hikaru, has an almost fox-like grin on her face as she sees you finally arrive. She says a few things that you hum in response to as you pluck the tiny folded card from between the blossoms, opening it and allowing Belle and Eunchae to peek over your shoulder to read it with you. “Shut up!” Belle practically squeals.

For: Pretty

“God.” You sigh, closing the note and grabbing the bouquet from Eunchae who had picked it up to smell them, “I wonder where he got these.”

“I don’t know but they look expensive.” Belle muses with a grin and you hum in agreement with a smile.

A text tone dings from your phone, a familiar one that makes you groan. When you look at your screen your jaw clenches and shifts.

spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.

You suspect your mom told him about how you get off early now, cursing the woman mentally as you send back a simple thumbs up to her ex-husband. 

Between 1st and 2nd period, you had put the bouquet in your car to avoid walking around with it, and you’re so very thankful you did with the annoying grin on Jake’s face as you sat across from him in College Algebra.

“You and Niki.” He repeats with a cheeky raise of his brows, his grin unaffected by the look of utter distaste on your face at his presence.

“What about Riki and me?” You ask monotonously, clearly unimpressed with the prompt.  

“You guys datin’?” He asks cheekily, clearly already aware that you went on a ‘date’, but wanting to hear it from you.

“If I say we went on a singular date will you leave me alone?” You ask with a sigh, using your knuckle to massage your temple.

Jake shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, “Not a chance.”

You groan softly as the bell rings, and the sigh of relief is quickly smothered with your hopes of escaping this period without having to answer a question as a familiar substitute walks in, Mr. Morrell, a nice old man who usually just lets everyone do their own thing. He’s your mortal enemy now, you’ve decided.

The moment he announces those wretched words, ‘free day’, your fate is sealed.

Jake is snickering like a freak, leaning over his desk as if you aren’t just a few feet away from him, “You and Riki.” He giggles, and you look at him as if he’s possessed and it disgusts you.

“Please, leave me alone.” You say with a bit more emotion than your last few words.

Jake is too busy giggling like a little girl to listen or even hear what you said, nearly cutting you off as he asks, “Where was your first date?” 

“The Mexican place next to the nail salon down the street.” You answer monotonously, just wanting to get it over with at this point.

“Did he pay? He paid.” Jake asks then nods to himself as he says the last statement.

“Yes, he paid.” 

“Ooo, did he kiss you? Nah, Niki’s way too pussy to do that—“

You cut him off with an invisible twitch of your brow, “He gave me a solid kiss on the cheek.”

It’s as if you’ve broken the already clearly leaking dam of pure giddy delight. He’s practically squealing with a breathy and high-pitched ‘naur way~’, whipping out his phone you assume to text their group chat. He’s bouncing in his seat, and you make a face as you pull your desk an inch away from his desk to stop feeling the movements.

You open your coloring book you bring with you to classes when you have no other work, you have other work but you’d rather not do that while Jake giggles and grills you.

The rest of the period is filled with him asking questions you either answer shortly or choose to not answer at all. (“Do you think he’s the one?”)

You of course could not see was that across the campus Riki was hiding his phone in his lap wanting to sink into a hole and die as Jake spams the team group chat like a live tweet of his, though strongly condemned by him, weirdly thorough interview like your barely started kind-of-relationship is his favorite sitcom.

“Thank you, lord.” you sigh as the bell rings, freeing you of your torment as you grab your gathered and organized bag to pull over your shoulder and hasten out of the classroom before Jake can get you. (Yes, like a boogeyman.)

It seems you can’t catch a break as you find out Park Sunghoon is in your 4th period. Park Sunghoon, jersey number 23, goalkeeper of the Decelis Demons. Also, you’ve decided, another mortal enemy. 

You don’t even know how you hadn’t noticed him all semester or the semester prior, given how awkwardly talkative he is. Sitting beside you with a cute but unsettling smile, holding out his hand like he was meeting a celebrity, which you weren’t exactly complaining about but the smile was weird. He was almost just as bad as Jake, if not worse simply because he freaked you out a bit. Seriously, why is someone so beautiful so fucking weird. His moles look like constellations but something about his vibes unsettle you.

It isn’t like you don’t have weird friends, you’ve watched Jongseob stuff fifty chile-coated gushers into his mouth purely because Eunchae told him he couldn’t. Weird usually isn’t the issue, except it is in this scenario. 

Escaping him and getting to go to your teacher’s aid period was like a shining of heaven’s pure light on you. You find yourself grading papers in the back of the classroom while your freshman-year Latin teacher plays Hercules in New York on the projector, a purple glitter pen in your hand as you go through the stack of exams.

“Hey,” one of the freshmen a cluster of desks away calls to you in a semi-hushed voice, halting the movement of your glitter pen and directing your attention to them, “your boyfriend’s waiting at the door.”

‘I don’t have a boyfriend’, parts your lips before you suddenly remember that Riki exists and halt before it can leave them. Looking to the closed door of the classroom, you find the boy in question peering through the small window in the door, and raise an inquisitive brow.

He only waves at you, a clear signal he wants you to come out and talk to him, part of you wonders why he knew where you were but memories of the phone call the night you both agreed on the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, exchanging school schedules and discussing preferences, come back to you and you nod lightly.

Mrs. B looks up from her laptop as you cap the glitter pen, “Don’t be gone too long.” 

Shooting her a smile and a small ‘yes ma’am, thank you’, you get up from the desk and shoot the snickering freshmen a weak glare as you walk to the door, opening it just enough to side step out of the room and shut it behind you.

“Hey.” is the first thing he says, his voice is deep despite its softness, mindful of the other classes going on in the language hall as well as the other teens clearly trying to get a good look at him as the door closes behind you.

You say it back just as softly, “Hey.”

He smiles just a bit, a boyish quirk of his lips that has your heart picking up, get a fucking grip, bitch. “I’m sorry about Jake and Sunghoon.”

The mention of them has you pressing your lips together with a nearly-sympathetic smile, “It’s okay.”

“No, they’re…a lot.” He chuckles softly, though his words are still genuine, “I don’t want you to get scared away.”

Something in your heart flutters, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a soft laugh that has his eyes darting to your smile. “Sunghoon was…weird, but I already knew that Jake’s a pest, so…”

He laughs at your words, head shaking slightly, “Still, I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s fine, really.” You say with a shake of your head. A student exits the Spanish class down the hall, pausing at the sight of you and Riki before walking in the direction of the bathrooms. 

Riki spares them little more than a brief glance over at the sound of the door shutting behind them before his gaze is back on you. God, why is he looking at me like that, you think just before he speaks again, “Do you bowl?”

The question catches you off guard, and you tilt your head and ask, “Like do I know how or do I do it often?”

“Both.”

“Kinda and no.” You answer, “Why?”

He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, your eyes darting to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the movements of his arm and a few veins are visible up his arm, “Some of the guys and I were going this weekend, I…figured I’d ask.” 

His words are finished with a bit of hesitance that you have little time to linger on as you question with a slight laugh, “Did they ask you to bring me?” 

You see a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears as his elbow drops yet his hand lingers on his trapezius, creating yet another visual that has you wanting to repeatedly slam your forehead into the wall beside you. He shakes his head slightly, “No, I, uh, wanted to bring you.”

The words are said with a soft laugh like he’s a bit embarrassed with himself, and you find your teeth catching your bottom lip to hold in the despicable grin that you know should not be growing on your face right now. You just broke up with your long-term boyfriend, wake up.

If Riki’s eyes dart to your lips, you don’t see it as you glance to the door of your class. “Then…yeah. I’ll come.” 

Your answer has his lips forming a pretty grin that he quickly covers up with a bite of his bottom lip and a nod, taking a step back as he prepares to leave, “Cool. I can pick you up, yeah?”

Yeah, you can. You nod, “Just text me.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you.” He finishes with another nod, and you giggle softly at his repetition. His eyes soften at the sound, another thing you don’t notice as you see the student returning from the bathrooms, glancing your way every so often as they approach the closed Spanish class door. 

Riki sees them too, and as they look over again, he leans down to press his lips to your cheek in a quick but sweet kiss, “See you next period.”

He shoots you a swift wink as he backs up again, and you put it together that he kissed you because of the third party in the hall. You exhale a soft response as he turns to jog off, clearly not meant to be gone from class as long as he has been, “Yeah.”

As soon as he turns the corner and you’re alone in the hall, you close your eyes for a long blink to bring yourself back to Earth. A soft curse leaves your lips as you turn back to the door to re-enter the Latin class, heart racing and hands slightly clammy. 

Clammy. 

The fact that a boy is making you feel so damn juvenile with the way you can’t help but react to his words and face and voice and eyes—

The walk to 5th period fills you with a sense of dread before you remember who else is in that class. Mrs. Wilson greets you happily as she sets up the activity for the day on the projector, which alerts you to the fact someone is standing by your seat who doesn’t belong there.

Riki has a look of confusion on his face as he looks up at Nayeon, clearly a bit confused by whatever is leaving her lips. The teacher’s greeting alerts the both of them to your presence in the doorway, where you paused at the sight of her. The corners of Riki’s lips quirk up at the sight of you, but Nayeon looks like she’s about to puke.

You don’t even speak. Something about the sight of pure panic in her eyes gives you a boost of serotonin but the fact that she’s standing in front of your ‘boyfriend's desk, speaking to him. Oh, you’re pissed. 

Yes, you are aware he isn’t actually your boyfriend and the two of you hadn’t even discussed publicly referring to each other as such, but the principle still stands. You want to punch her face.

Unfortunately, Mrs Wilson would be quite upset if you slammed Nayeon’s head into the whiteboard, and you like your teacher too much to debate starting a fight in her class. 

Your eyes follow Nayeon’s every move as she hastily removes her hands from where they were on his desk, avoiding your burning stare as she moves to her own seat. 

Walking to your desk, you smile at Riki as if what just happened has zero effect on you despite the burning fury in your gut, and sit down beside him. “Hey.”

Your soft greeting has him saying it in kind, shifting in his seat to lean back and see you better, “You know her?”

His question has you tilting your head in a faux innocence, “Mhm. Why?”

Riki has a slight knowing look on his face as he watches your reactions, “She had a lot to say about you.”

“What did she say?” You ask as if it’s a simple question, like you aren’t dying to know and anxiety isn’t clawing at your chest making it harder and harder to make your hands not shake. 

He shrugs with a purse of his lips, a slightly cheeky smile forms on his face as he asks, “You jealous?”

A scoff leaves your lips and your eyes roll before you can even think to hold the sass back, “Jealousy implies she’s better than me in some way.” You say with a defiant cross of your arms, “and she is not.”

“Then why’d you glare so hard?” He asks, clearly amused by both your words and body language.

You think, why did I not tell him about Nayeon?

The answer? Eunseok and Nayeon’s little affair had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit. Anxiety claws at you everytime you even imagine Nayeon interacting with Riki, and the fact that you just walked in on her saying something to him that your pride won’t allow you to ask him about just makes it all so much worse for you. 

The truth is that the irrational part of your brain, the one that often wins the battles against its more logical other half, made the thought of Riki knowing you were betrayed by your best friend all the more sickening to imagine. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. 

“I wasn’t glaring.” You argue, and Riki raises his brows as if to say ‘really?’ before he huffs softly in amusement and the bell rings.

“Yeah, you were.” He says with a lingering curiosity in his gaze before he looks to the board as Mrs Wilson starts class. Your first instinct is to argue, to be stubborn like you always are, but the lingering anxiety in your chest makes you want to never speak again just to find some kind of peace.

The entire time you take notes you aren’t truly absorbing any information, your brain is stuck on every possible thing that Nayeon could have said to him and how you’re gonna find out without directly asking either of them if possible.

You feel sick and he’s not even your real boyfriend.

Oh, fuck.

Between realizing you want Riki and remembering that you have to go to lunch with your father, you simply didn’t have enough time to achieve as much mental preparation as you’d like before lunch. The Italian restaurant you find yourself sitting inside with a menu in your manicured hands is a relatively ‘fancy’ establishment, at least if the $35 fettuccini alfredo was anything to go by.

Your dad is the one paying, so you aren’t all that mad about the prices considering the look in his eyes is enough to ruin your enjoyment of the basket of breadsticks between the two of you. If you thought it would make a dent in his bank account you’d order another plate of mozzarella sticks just to spend his money, but the satisfaction just wouldn’t be there. 

Punching his face might feel better.

“Am I gonna have to put you in anger management again?” His anger is hushed and composed, but the shift in his jaw and the patronizing look of disappointment on his face belied his composure. Always being hyper-aware of how people view him is one of the things you hate about your dad. His attitude takes a higher spot on the ‘Why You Hate Your Dad’ pyramid, though. 

“You can’t ‘put me’ anywhere.” You bite back as you dip the breadstick in your hand into the small bowl of marinara, “Eunseok deserved it.”

“You don’t get to decide what people deserve.” He argues, still so patronizing.

The feeling of being talked down to is one you're all too familiar with when it comes to your father. The man can’t accept his own faults, one of which being how shit of a father he was and is. You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your breadstick, half-drowning his words out with your own and the other half remembering every single thing coming from his lips to throw back in his face next time he cries about how you never reach out to him. 

“Eunseok is a smart and successful, young man. And you throw it all away for—“

Ah, you almost forgot how much more your father likes your ex than you. Offering him internships, a place at his firm when he graduates, none of which he’d ever even mentioned to you. You wouldn’t ever work for or with your father, but the fact he had never spoken a word about any chances to help you gain experience like he did your ex was as infuriating as it was unsurprising.

“I didn’t throw shit away.” You snap, “He cheated on me, you keep skimming over that detail, father.”

“I’m not skimming over it, it’s irrelavent.” He exhales, trying to calm his slightly raised voice, “And you know I hate it when you call me that..”

“Irrelevant? Oh, I’m sorry, should I have stayed with a boyfriend that sleeps with my best friend?” You scoff, sipping your Dr Pepper, “And if you wanted me to call you dad, you should've acted like one.”

“Hey.” He warns, yet you only roll your eyes. “Reaching out goes both ways—“

“I know you did not just say that to me.” 

“—and I am your father, so you speak to me with respect.” He finishes, voice raising slightly in frustration before he settles it back to a more composed volume.

“No.” You shake your head, “That’s not how shit works.”

“Yes,” He bites back sternly, “If you want me to keep funding your life you’ll—“

Normally, you let your father say whatever it is he wants to say, tell him you really don’t care what he thinks and then for about a month he doesn’t text you. Then it’s ‘I want to improve our relationship’ and ‘I feel like you’re drifting away’. Today was not a normal day, however.

“Then cut me off.” You say with a shrug, “You can’t hold that shit over my head like I ask for the money you send, which you only send because you know you’re a shit father and you feel guilty.”

He doesn't respond, his jaw shifting, so you continue. 

“And considering the fact that you are a cheater yourself, why the fuck would I listen to a word you say when it comes to my own love life?” You ask, not really caring that you aren’t exactly speaking quietly, “Eunseok deserved a fire poker to the face, and I used it on his car instead. Which is what Mom should have done when she found you with the nanny.”

“Quiet down, you’re making a scene.” He hisses, and you tilt your head and look around as if you give a single fuck. “I already took care of Eunseok’s car, which will be taken out of your allowance—“

Your eyes narrow at his words, “You paid to repair his car?”

Your father doesn’t skip a beat as he continues, “—Yes, I did. And you don’t get to throw the biggest mistake I’ve ever made back in my face—“

“Yes, I do.”

“—No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do.” You argue back stubbornly, continuing before he can speak over you again, “And you paid for Eunseok’s car, the same boy who fucked one of my best friends for months while actively dating me and you don’t see a single problem with that?”

“His parents were discussing pressing charges—“

“That’s when you tell them to go fuck themselves.” 

He sighs at your words, clearly sick of your temper (which you inherited from him), “You need to start handling your emotions better, you’re graduating this year.”

“I have literally witnessed you throw a chair in anger, get someone else to say that to me.” 

He seems ready to respond, when the waiter comes with the food, and you speak before he can, politely asking if you can get a to-go box for it instead. Your father doesn’t seem to have the guts to speak as the waiter glances between you both unsurely before nodding, “Of course.”

He takes the dish back and the moment he is out of ear-shot, your father says, “We aren’t done talking.”

“I am.” You shrug, clearly not willing or planning on sitting here any longer than you have to.

The waiter is back out with your to-go container wrapped in a bag that has mint-chocolates inside as well as a complimentary box of breadsticks that you’ll probably eat while crying your eyes out later. You ignore the stern orders from your father to sit back down, thanking the waiter with a polite smile and promptly walk out of the restaurant. 

The tears of frustration start falling the moment you’re in the safety of your car, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put the bag of food in the passenger seat and pull out of the parking lot, turning ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift all the up as you drive the highway back home. You ignore the texts from your father, as well as the calls.

You’re at the red light before turning into your neighborhood when Riki’s caller ID shows up on the screen of your console, and you debate even answering, but wipe your eyes and clear your throat as you press the green answer button, “Hello?” 

Your voice is more stable than you expected it to be, and Riki responds in kind, “Hey, I just got out of practice—you okay?”

“M’fine, what’s up?” You say with an attempt at a sneaky sniffle, the thought of him knowing you’re crying is too humiliating. Part of you is disappointed he somehow could tell that something was up. The other part of you, the vulnerable and hurt teenage girl with daddy issues and a yearning to be listened to and understood, begs to just break down. 

He doesn’t seem to buy it, you hear the sound of keys jingling and then a car door opening and shutting, then he’s speaking again, “You sure?”

The light turns green, and you finally turn into your neighborhood, “I’m fine.” It’s almost a snap, one you instantly regret as you quickly say, “Sorry, just—“

“It’s okay,” He assures, and you feel even more guilty, more tears threatening to fall as your bottom lip trembles again. You’re pulling into your driveway as he continues, “Wanna talk about it over lunch?”

“I just got lunch with my dad, actually,” You say with a soft, bitter laugh, voice wavering and a soft curse leaving your lips the moment it does, “Fuck, sorry, this is just weird.”

He seems a bit panicked by the way your voice only turns more tearfilled as you apologize, “Hey, don’t worry about it, seriously—“ There’s a sound like a knock on the other end, and you hear him whisper something like ‘go away’ before he’s continuing, “—sorry I teased you earlier today, I, uh, thought I made you mad so I was calling to make up for it.”

A soft sob leaves you as you laugh with it, “I’m not mad about that, but I did wanna talk about it,” You sniffle, “About Nayeon, I mean.”

“You don’t have to, I was just messing with you.” You can imagine him shaking his head slightly as he speaks, “She didn’t really say much, just asked if we were dating.”

“What’d you say?” You find yourself asking.

He hesitates before answering, “Yeah.”

It sends a weird hot jolt to your stomach and your worried lips turn into a girlish smile that you quickly wipe off your face, “That’s okay, y’know. I’m pretty sure my friends have been telling everyone you’re my boyfriend, so the whole ‘taking it slow’ shit is out the window.”

He chuckles on the other end and it flips your stomach like a fucking pancake, “Great, I’m not that type anyway.”

(There’s a feral voice in the back of your conscience that screeches like it’s a beast gnawing at the walls of its enclosure.)

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes shut like you’re trying to come back to Earth and not hang up out of pure flustered reflex. You force out a response, “Just means we have to make it more believably genuine.”

“What’s your plan, pretty girl?” 

Oh, you want to bang your head into the steering wheel. “Do you mind coming over? I wanna discuss it in person but I just got home.”

You jaw slackens in shock at your own words, looking into the rear view and mouthing at yourself; Bitch, what the fuck—

“Yeah, sure. What’s the address?” His response is so natural and unperturbed the catastrophizing your brain has done in the last second slips away and you silently scream.

A second later you respond like normal, “I’ll text it to you.”

“Okay, I’m on my way, then.”

When the two of you hang up after a few more words, you realize what you have done and quickly turn off your car, grabbing the food and your purse and hastening into the open garage, struggling with the doorknob and pressing the garage door button before entering. 

Your room isn’t messy, per say, but your duvet is covered in cat fur, and you don’t even know if Riki’s allergic to them or not. “Gus, can you move, please?” You ask your cat as you begin to pull the duvet off your bed but he remains unmoving on the end of your bed.

He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh. 

After taking too much time carefully moving the duvet from under your cat and hurriedly tossing it into the laundry room while grabbing your spare to put on the bed instead, the doorbell rings.

With one(at least three) last look in the mirror to check your appearance, still in the outfit you changed into for lunch with your dad, you open the large iron front door.

“Hi.” You greet softly with a slight smile, and Riki has one himself that almost looks shy.

He bites his bottom lip and says back, “Hi.”

As you let him in, you look down at the door handle, waiting for him to step inside before shutting it behind him.

As his eyes move to assess his surroundings with slow steps, you catch up to him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling his hand from his pocket as you tug him along toward your room with unhurried steps. He lets you, though you hear the chuckle under his breath.

“That’s Gus. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.” is the first thing that leaves your mouth as you pull him into your cleaned room(though you’ll have to un-ass your closet later), and he gasped softly.

The voice that comes out next is higher in pitch and softer as he hesitantly approaches your loafing cat, who sniffs his fingers for a second or two before headbutting them. You witness Riki practically melt as he coos at the feline that happily receives his pets.

“Wanna guess his full name?” You jest, and he hums, looking over at you curiously but not halting his petting of Gus. “Gazpacho.”

Riki looks elated by the information, grinning so prettily you want to use the vintage lotus lamp on your nightstand to beat your head against, and he softly goes back to cooing, “Hi, Gazpacho.”

A giggle laugh leaves your lips that you quickly cover with your mouth and a quick avert of your gaze, eyes landing on the whiteboard against your wall. The fucking whiteboard.

“Oh, fuck.” leaves your lips before you can stop yourself but you’re already moving to grab the object of your doom, “Don’t look, close your eyes.”

Your demands are met with pure boyish defiance, and his eyes follow your movement to your closet door, opening it just enough to toss the whiteboard inside and quickly shutting it. “You saw nothing.”

He slowly pulls away from Gus with a growing suspicious smirk, “I’m scared to ask.”

“It’s just a whiteboard, nothing of consequence written on it, or anything.” You say with a purse of your lips.

“A whiteboard?” He questions with a tilt of his head.

You nod, moving away from your shut closet door and taking the opportunity to change the subject, “My stepdad’s a physicist.”

“Ooh, that’s cool.” He says with a thumbs up, taking the moment to move his eyes around the room as he had been distracted by the cat, “This is a nice house.”

“Thank you,” You respond softly out of instinct, “My mom’s a big lawyer too, so….”

“Ah, right, I think Jake mentioned that once.” He nods, sitting in the bean bag(you’ll have to break the news to Eunchae later).

You hum, sitting on the edge of your bed beside Gus and petting him, “What do your parents do?”

He has a slightly shy grin on his face as he says, “They own a pretty big dance studio.”

“That’s super cool.” You compliment with a tilt of your head, “Do you dance?”

If you could audibly coo at the redness blooming on the tips of his ears as he nods slightly you would, but you settle with a giggle that has him squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, “I do, yeah.”

“I did ballroom for like, ten years.” 

It’s as if you’ve revealed a hidden treasure, and he asks, “Do you still know how?”

You immediately hold up a defiant hand, “I am not showing you, and it’s been years.”

He whines, hands moving to clasp pleadingly, “Aww, c’mon, I’ll take you to my family’s studio and show you mine.”

This piques your interest and you ask before you can think about it, tone playfully flirty, “Taking me to meet your parent’s so soon?”

He chuckles softly, voice still so low, “Like I said, I don’t like slow.”

It takes a few more minutes of pointless chatter(and many more flirty remarks that make you want to scream into your pillow) before you get to the core of your problems today; Nayeon.

“Okay, wait, so—she and your ex…were together?” He reiterates to better understand, and you nod, and he then asks, “In your house?”

“Why do you think I took the fire-poker to his car?” You shrug, and he has a half-grin on his face.

“I thought that rumor was exaggerated.” He admits, giving you an appreciative once over like he’s impressed, “You’ve got a temper, huh?”

“I’ve never overreacted in my life.” You say with a slight raise of your hands.

He nods with a slight smirk as if he absolutely believes you, “‘Course not.”

“Anyway, she had a major crush on you in freshman year, literally fantasized about your wedding and everything,” You blissfully expose, “And I already had my eyes on you so it all worked out.”

He nods with a hum and slight smirk, “I see, so I’m sweet revenge.”

“The sweetest.” You playfully flirt, and his eyes turn into shy crescents.

“So, who were your other options?” He asks after a few seconds to let the pink on his cheeks fade, and you grin.

“Jealous?” You mimic his tone from earlier in the day and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” The admission falls naturally from his lips and your gut flips, “Curious, too.”

“Jungkook didn’t want me to choose you.” You respond with a tight smile.

His eyes widen, “Coach knows?”

“He’s got an idea.” You respond with a slight shrug.

“Did he suggest anyone else?”

“Jungwon,” You answer easily, snickering softly when he groans and throws his head back, “but he’s a tight-ass, he’d never agree.”

Riki snorts, and with a shrug says, “You’re pretty, I think he’d come around.” Your raised brow has him quickly changing the subject with a curious tilt of his head, “You already had your eyes on me, though?”

His question is cheeky and paired with a matching grin that makes you roll your eyes and fight nervous giggles as you say, “I never said that.”

“Really? ’Cause I heard you say it.” He seems much too determined to not let you move on from the subject but your mother loves to compare you to a mule in regards to obstinance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug innocently.

He leans forward slightly in the beanbag, his elbows resting on his knees, and that grin of his only widens. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your words. You stand up, moving toward your desk under the guise of rearranging things that don’t need rearranging, mostly to avoid his knowing gaze.

Riki tilts his head, watching you with amusement. “You know, if you’re trying to throw me off, it’s not working.”

You glance over your shoulder, trying not to crack under the weight of his attention. “Throw you off from what? I’m just tidying.”

“Right. And I’m just here for the cat.”

“Good. Gus loves the attention,” you quip, folding your arms over your chest as you turn back to him.

“But I’m not done yet,” he says with mock seriousness, shifting in the beanbag like he’s settling in for the long haul. “What’s so bad about admitting you’ve been into me? I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself in a way that’s more playful than cocky, but you still roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck.

“Wow, humble too,” you shoot back, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.

“Hey, just stating facts. Can’t help it if you have great taste.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you squirm. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dipping lower, “you’re kind of making it obvious now.”

Your hands find your hips in defiance. “How, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he muses, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between you. “The way you got all flustered when I asked if you still know how to dance. Or how you won’t look me in the eye right now.”

You refuse to back down, lifting your chin as you meet his gaze. “I’m not flustered. And I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?”

He smirks, leaning just a little closer, his tone teasing. “Sure you are. But you’re still not answering my question.”

You blink innocently up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his eyes dart below your nose. “What question?”

Riki lets out a soft laugh, a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he shakes his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the proximity is starting to get to you.

He watches you for a moment, his smirk turning into something softer, though no less mischievous. “Alright, fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”

“Oh, how gracious of you.” Your sarcasm earns you a grin as he steps back and flops dramatically into the beanbag again, sprawling like he owns the place.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like get on my nerves,” you mutter, though the twitch of your lips gives you away.

“Same thing.” He winks, and you hate how charming he looks doing it.

The smirk he gives you as he leans back has your stomach doing somersaults, but you refuse to let him see you sweat. Instead, you turn your attention to Gus, pretending to be more interested in your cat than in the boy currently making himself at home in your life—and your head.

As Riki lounges back in the beanbag, his eyes drift lazily around the room again, lingering on the neatly arranged desk and the wall beyond. “You’ve got a pretty organized vibe for someone who just tossed a whiteboard into a closet like it was a bomb.”

You freeze mid-pet, your hand hovering above Gus’s head. “You’re still on about that?”

“I mean, it’s a whiteboard. What kind of secrets could it possibly hold?” His tone is teasing, but the glint in his eyes says he’s not letting it drop.

You debate lying, but the little smirk playing on his lips tells you he won’t believe you anyway. “Nothing important. Just… research.”

“Research.” He repeats with an arched brow, “Like, ‘solving world hunger’ research or me research?“

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I hate you.”

“Now I really have to see it.” He starts to rise, and you spring to your feet, blocking his path to the closet.

“Riki, no.”

“Riki, yes.” He steps closer, towering over you slightly, his grin widening as you try to stand your ground.

“Don’t make me sic Gus on you,” you warn, pointing toward the loafing cat.

“Gus and I are best friends now. He’d never betray me.” Riki gestures toward the cat, who yawns dramatically like he’s staying out of it.

“Traitor,” you mutter at Gus, which earns you a laugh from Riki.

“C’mon,” he cajoles, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly soft tone that makes your heart do weird flips. “What’s the worst that could happen if I see it?”

Your resolve wavers, but the idea of him actually reading the whiteboard is too mortifying, “I’ll have to kill you.”

His grin only widens at your threat, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Wow, straight to murder, huh? Didn’t realize you were so passionate about…whatever’s on that board.”

“You have no idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It doesn’t work. Riki’s grin turns smug, like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Now I really need to know.” He leans closer, and the proximity sends your heart into overdrive. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him as he tilts his head, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “What if it’s, like, a shrine to me or something?”

The gasp you let out is equal parts offense and panic. “You think way too highly of yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he teases, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. “I’ve heard people do wild things when they’ve got a crush.”

“Bold of you to assume—”

“You’re avoiding the question again.” He cuts you off, smirking as he steps back just enough to lean casually against the end of your bedframe, his arms crossed. “What’s on the whiteboard, really?”

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. There’s no way you’re admitting to the utterly ridiculous pros and cons list your friends talked you into. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s… study stuff,” you finally say, your tone lacking conviction. “School projects, maybe some physics equations. Boring things you wouldn’t care about.”

“Physics equations?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, because I look like the kind of guy who’d buy that excuse.”

“Hey, I’m trying here,” you snap, which only makes him chuckle again.

“I can tell. You’re terrible at it.” His grin softens slightly, the teasing replaced with something that feels a little too close to genuine. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me.”

You blink at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone but immediately suspicious of it. “Really?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, though there’s still a playful glint in his eyes. “But now I have leverage. You’ll owe me later.”

“Owe you for what?” you demand, but the smug look on his face says you won’t get an answer you like.

“For letting you off the hook, obviously.” He straightens and gives you a wink before heading back to the beanbag like he didn’t just upend your entire equilibrium. “Don’t worry—I’ll think of something good.”

You stare at him, your jaw slightly agape, as he makes himself comfortable again. Gus hops onto his lap, clearly picking sides, and Riki’s attention shifts back to your cat like nothing happened.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, though you can’t quite keep the fondness out of your voice.

He glances up, his smirk softening into a smile that’s entirely too charming. “And you love it.”

You hate that you do.

The week passes by with a dreadful speed, and after four whole days of anxiety-induced stomach aches, migraines, and a few breakdowns in the dark privacy of your room at midnight, it is the weekend. 

It is the weekend, and Belle, Hiyyih, and Eunchae bear witness to a minor crash-out.

“I’m gonna puke.” You mumble, sitting on the ottoman at the center of your walk-in closet with your face in your hands as the older two walk around you, going through your options for an outfit.

“Keep that shit in bitch,” Belle says without looking away from the clothes hanging in your closet, pointing a finger blindly at you in warning, “You puke, I puke.”

Eunchae moves towards your hunched form from her spot on your bean bag(which she moved into your closet to sit on), snickering softly as she sits beside you and brings her hand to rub circles on your back. “There, there.”

A part of you wants to snap at her that she isn’t funny, but the act is weirdly comforting so you let her continue. Bahiyyih speaks from where she is in front of your shoe shelf, “Why do you have so many shoes?”

“My mom gets sent them monthly by some guy she was a lawyer for a while ago,” You exhale as you drop your hands into your lap, eyes still closed as you contemplate opening them ever again, “She hates wearing pumps now so she gives them to me or regifts them.”

“What if you wear these?” Hiyyih holds up a pair of Louboutins, and you open your eyes to see before looking at her like she’s crazy.

“Not only is it bowling and I’m gonna have to change shoes anyway, but I’m not wearing a So Kate for something that isn’t even a date, Hiyyih.”

She pouts her bottom lip as she puts them down, and Belle pulls a top from the collection of them hanging in your closet and holds it up in question towards you. After a few seconds of staring at the article of clothing, debating if you remember looking cute in it or not, you nod and she tosses it into the ‘maybe’ pile. 

Two seconds later, you’re hunching over and blindly grabbing a pillow near you to scream into.

Eunchae pats your back again, her snickering turning into full-blown laughter. “Feel better now, drama queen?”

You lift your head just enough to glare at her over the pillow. “No.”

“Good,” Belle says, tossing another shirt into the ‘definitely not’ pile without even showing it to you. “Because if you puke or scream again, I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re being insufferable. She might take those Louboutins back.”

“That’s not funny,” you mumble into the pillow.

“It’s a little funny,” Hiyyih chimes in, holding up a sequined crop top like it’s the Holy Grail. “Okay, but seriously, what about this? It says ‘I’m fun,’ but not, like, too fun.”

Eunchae tilts her head at it. “It also says ‘I moonlight as a disco ball.’”

You groan, sitting up straight and snatching the crop top out of Hiyyih’s hands. “Why is this so hard? It’s bowling! I should just wear sweatpants and call it a day.”

Belle spins around with the precision of a K-drama villain. “Don’t you dare. Do you want to show up looking like his cousin who just rolled out of bed, or like the mysterious, unattainable enigma that you are?”

“Unattainable?” you ask with a hesitant furrow of you brows.

“Yeah, unattainable, as in: unattainable by anyone else but him,” Belle clarifies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re playing the long game, babe.”

“You say that like this is some kind of psychological warfare,” you deadpan.

Belle shrugs. “It kind of is.”

Eunchae raises a hand like she’s in class. “But what if he’s bad at bowling? Like, gutter ball after gutter ball bad? Do you let him win or destroy him?”

You pause, genuinely considering it. “Destroy him, obviously.”

“Bold choice.” Hiyyih nods approvingly, tossing a pleated skirt into the maybe pile. “What if you’re bad, though?”

You gasp. “That’s not even an option.”

Belle smirks. “So confident for someone who hasn’t touched a bowling ball since middle school.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me, not roasting me!” You grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her. She dodges with ease, laughing as it smacks into the closet door behind her.

“Roasting you is my way of helping you,” Belle retorts, unfazed. “It’s called multitasking.”

Eunchae picks up the discarded pillow and hands it back to you, patting your head like you’re a distressed pet. “There, there. At least you’ll look cute while you embarrass yourself.”

“Why are all of you like this?” You drop your head back into your hands, half tempted to cancel the whole thing.

“Because we love you,” Belle sing-songs, pulling out a denim jacket that you forgot you even owned. “Now shut up and try this on. We’re on a schedule, ho.”

You sigh, begrudgingly taking the jacket as the three of them continue their chaotic brainstorming session around you. It’s not helpful in the slightest, but somehow, it makes you feel a little less like throwing up again.

By some miracle—or maybe just the collective force of Belle’s bullying, Eunchae’s comfort, and Hiyyih’s endless suggestions—you finally land on an outfit. The moment you pull the halter top over your head, the three of them fall silent, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one.

“Okay, that’s cute,” Belle finally declares, hands on her hips like she personally designed the top. “It’s giving effortless, but still hot enough to make him sweat.”

“It’s super cute on you,” Hiyyih chimes in, tilting her head as she appraises the outfit.

“It is,” Eunchae adds, grinning as she slides off the bean bag to circle you.

The cropped halter top clings just right, the rich color complementing your skin tone and making you feel…hot. Paired with the baggy jeans that sit low on your hips, the whole look is casual, but not too casual. You glance at the mirror, adjusting the jeans slightly and eyeing the way they pool at the hems over your socked feet.

“Am I pulling this off?” you ask hesitantly, smoothing the fabric of the top.

Belle snorts. “If he’s not staring, I’ll be personally offended on your behalf.”

Eunchae pretends to swoon dramatically, throwing herself back onto the bean bag. “The mysterious unattainable enigma strikes again.”

“Okay, but shoes,” Hiyyih cuts in, crouching by the pile of options at your feet. “You’re wearing sneakers, obviously, but which ones? The Nikes or the New Balances?”

You glance down, debating for a moment before pointing to the Nikes. “They’re cleaner.”

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Barely. When was the last time you cleaned your shoes?”

You glare at her, picking up a sneaker and threatening to launch it her way. She holds up her hands in mock surrender, moving to pull a jacket from the rack as she says, “Make sure you bring a jacket, though. It’s cold as shit.”

“Or she can not bring one and Riki can lend her his.” Eunchae suggests with a cheeky grin.

Belle promptly tosses the jacket into the back of your closet.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The nerves are still there, bubbling under the surface, but with your friends around—and an outfit that actually makes you feel cute—you start to think that maybe, just maybe, tonight won’t be a complete disaster.

riki 🙈: im here

“We’re seeing you off,” Belle declares, handing you the Prada bag she just stuffed your lip combo into. Hiyyih trails behind her, spritzing your neck and wrists with your favorite perfume.

The dread must be plastered all over your face because Eunchae immediately starts snickering from where she’s leaning against the doorframe. “We just wanna see his reaction.”

“To me or to you guys making kissy faces at him from the porch?” you deadpan.

The chorus of giggles that erupts from your three friends is all the answer you need.

“Oh, come on,” Belle says, looping her arm through yours as she drags you toward the front door. “We’ll behave.”

“You behaving is a scientific impossibility,” you mutter, trying to resist, but she’s got the strength of someone fully committed to the bit.

“Hold on,” Eunchae pulls something out of her hoodie pocket she must’ve forgotten was there until just now, uncapping the small bottle and holding it in front of your lips, “Open.”

You obey with a slight furrow of your brows, and she sprays it into your mouth, giggling when you flinch slightly in surprise and grimace at the strong mint taste. Eunchae grins, unzipping the bag on your shoulder just enough to slip it in before closing it, “To prevent food breath.”

The moment Belle opens the front door, your breath catches at the sight of Riki leaning casually against the passenger side of his Wrangler, hands tucked into his pockets. The golden light of the setting sun highlights the faint smirk on his face, his jewelry glinting as he shifts.

"Lord have mercy," you mutter under your breath.

You didn't expect him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but you weren't prepared for this either. The necklaces layering his collarbones and the glint of piercings--does he have an eyebrow piercing?—are almost too much. You quickly shove down the spiral threatening to start and glance back at the three traitorous girls behind you.

Their kissy faces drop immediately, though Eunchae barely suppresses her laughter. 

With a playful shove to Hiyyih—who stumbles into the porch pillar but resumes her antics without missing a beat—you flip them all a perfectly manicured middle finger and step off the porch.

As you walk toward him, you swear the faintest blush tinges his ears. He waves briefly at your friends before straightening and meeting your gaze.

"You look good," he says, voice low and easy.

"I know." Your response is swift and confident, though the smile on your face is warmer than intended.

The moment is interrupted when the backseat window of his car rolls down, and Jake's grinning face is revealed. Your smile drops.

"Why is Jake in your car?" you deadpan, your smile dropping.

Riki groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Dude, I told you not to be weird."

Jake looks offended. "I didn't even say anything!"

"Seeing your face is enough," you reply flatly. Jake pouts dramatically while you shoot Riki an accusatory glare. "You could've warned me."

"If I did, you would've come out frowning," Riki whines playfully. "You have such a pretty smile."

From the backseat, Jake's obnoxious "ooooh" echoes, accompanied by giggles that make Riki's blush spread down his neck. Still, he keeps his composure enough to open the passenger door for you.

"What a gentleman~," Belle teases loudly from the porch.

Eunchae waves at you, practically bouncing with glee. You shoot Belle a glare, mouthing "kill yourself" as you accept Riki's hand and climb into his lifted car.

"Bye, Manchae," you call, snapping your attention away from him as he closes the door. You're too aware of his cologne and the lingering warmth of his hand. He looks way too good.

Riki salutes your friends playfully before circling to his door. Through Jake's open window, you hear Hiyyih shout, "She likes Dr Pepper!”

"And winning!" Eunchae adds.

"And tongue," Belle finishes just before the window rolls up.

You cringe. Riki's amused laugh is confirmation he definitely heard that. "I hate her so much," you mutter, pulling the sun visor down to touch up your lip gloss to dostract yourself.

You're halfway through the motion when you notice Riki hasn't started driving yet. Turning, you catch him just as he’s looking back at the road, his hand on the gear shift. (There’s something attractive about the fact he drives stick.)

Jake's giggle breaks the silence. "Oh, shut up, Jake," you snap, not necessarily to defend Riki—though it only makes Jake laugh harder. “Why couldn't your other friends bring him?" you grumble, swiping the gloss over your bottom lip.

"He's my neighbor," Jake says cheekily.

"I would've made him walk," you reply, clicking the gloss shut and shoving it back into your bag. "Or Uber."

"That's just cruel," Jake protests, but you shrug.

"Sucks."

Riki snickers and nods. "Okay, he'll Uber next time."

Jake looks appalled. "Bro."

"You're annoying me too," Riki replies, barely glancing back as he rests his hand lazily on the gear shift.

You pointedly ignore the way his rolled-up sleeves expose a line of muscle up his forearm, a vein standing out as he moves to grab his phone charger. "Play your music," he says, holding the cord out to you.

Jake gapes. "Bro, you never let us play our music."

"That's because you guys have shit taste," Riki says without hesitation.

Your lips twitch, a sliver of pride blooming in your chest.

You connect your phone, Sabrina Carpenter's Taste filtering through the speakers. Jake perks up. "Oh, I actually like this song."

"You better," you reply, humming along as the music plays.

Riki bobs his head lightly to the beat, his usual laid-back energy soothing you as the drive continues.

"Who else is bowling with us?" you ask, turning the music down slightly.

"Jay, his girlfriend, and Heeseung," Riki answers casually.

You hum in understanding and turn the volume back up, inhaling the soft musk of his cologne mingling with your perfume. The scent is annoyingly pleasant, calming in its own way.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot and finds a good spot, the sky has dimmed to a deep navy. Riki is out of his seat in a flash, jogging around to open your door before Jake even unbuckles himself. His hand lingers on yours as he helps you down, his fingers interlocking with yours naturally.

Jake trails behind you two as Riki leads you toward the neon-lit entrance, the muffled sounds of bowling balls and laughter drifting through the glass doors. 

Jay, a pretty girl you are pretty sure was in your art class in freshman year, and Heeseung are standing near the entrance, and you wish you could hide behind Riki from their gazes that immediately find your intertwined hands.

You send a smile to the only other girl reflexively, and she sends the prettiest one back. She grins excitedly as the three of them meet your trio halfway once you enter the door that Riki holds open for you to enter first. 

(You wonder if these are manners his sisters and mother taught him or a previous girlfriend—wait, no you don’t.)

“I told you it was her!” She smacks Jay’s arm, and he winces with a soft laugh, clearly used to his girlfriend’s antics. Her approach is welcomed as she explains, “He was saying Riki was lying.” 

“About?” You question curiously, an easy smile on your glossy lips.

She giggles as she answers, “You being his girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Riki says lowly, clearly embarrassed by the subject as you snicker at his misfortune.

“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” The girl states with a giggle as she pulls you from Riki with her elbow hooked with yours, and you barely glance back at your ‘boyfriend’, who’s being patted on the shoulder by Jay. “They’ll handle paying for everything, let’s get some snacks.”

“Oh, okay.” You say softly before smiling with her, delighted that she brought up food before you had to ask Riki about it. You aren’t ashamed of eating, or shy about doing so in front of him, but having another girl who also seems to prioritize food was immensely comforting to the anxiety in your gut. 

She grins as the two of you step into line at the concession counter, “I’m also glad I got you away from the boys for a second, they’re so…”

“Boyish?” You finish, and she laughs softly.

“Yeah.”

“Girl to girl,” You start, moving up in line with her, “I don’t think I’m gonna be good at bowling.” 

She gasps joyfully, “I suck!”

You laugh at her clear excitement that she’s finally not alone in that aspect, “But that means the boys are better than us.”

She rolls her eyes at the mention of them, “Riki and Heeseung are the really good bowlers,” There’s one more person between you two and the counter now, “I love my boyfriend, but he and Jake suck compared to those two.”

“I don’t want to lose to Jake.” You sigh, “It just doesn't seem ethical.”

“Riki’ll handle him.” She snickers softly, “You should've seen him at practice when Jake and Hoon messed with you.”

Your interest is piqued, but the person in front of you finishes paying for their food and you are forced to put your questions aside as she begins ordering and you realize you don’t even know what you want. 

You’re skimming over the menu above when your phone dings in your purse.

riki 🙈: what size shoe do u wear?

Quickly typing an answer, you glance between your phone and the menu, and Gaeul turns to you, waiting for you to add to the already sizable order with how much the four athletes can eat. “Oh, I can pay for myself—“

“Riki already venmoed me enough to spot you,” She interjects with a soft giggle, and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Oh,” You let out before shaking your head and looking at the waiting cashier, “A large drink and a basket of cheese fries, please.”

Gaeul hands you the stack of cups she’s handed, and you startle slightly when a hand and arm appear in your vision, plucking the cups from your hand. When you look over your shoulder you find a smirking Riki, “I got this. Go sit.” 

You huff softly, fighting your smile that threatens to grow even wider, “I can fill up my own drink.”

“I know, but I wanna do it.” He states with a nod like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you can’t do much more than glare weakly. He only chuckles softly as Gaeul finishes paying and realizes he’s with you, “Go. Dr Pepper, right?.”

You look away from his cheeky smirk with a shift of your jaw, and you lose the fight against the grin now on your face, “I hate you.”

He only huffs softly in amusement as you walk away with your arms crossed, making your way to where you spot Heeseung’s orange hair. There’s a pair of green bowling shoes beside another bigger pair that are red placed on the bench seating, and Jake has a grin on his face the moment you sit down to put them on.

“I am not above hitting you in the head with a bowling ball, Jake.” You say as you pull the white sneakers off your feet to put on the bowling shoes, not even soaring the Australian boy a glance as his mouth shuts, clearly rethinking speaking.

Heeseung snorts, “Shit, you are violent.”

You look up from your bowling shoes at the Lacrosse captain, who’s grin drops and he quickly looks away, acting like he wasn’t just laughing. Jay shakes his head with a laugh, “Thank you, for shutting them up.”

You give him a smile with a scrunch of your nose, “My pleasure.”

The moment Riki and Gaeul return, you’ve barely gotten your shoes tied. You’re still shooting looks at Jake, who’s pretending to look anywhere but at you while Jay wheezes softly into his hand. Riki raises a brow, setting a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. “What happened now?”

“She threatened Jake’s life with a bowling ball,” Heeseung informs him with amusement still clear on his face.

Riki pauses mid-sip of his drink, glancing at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Already? We haven’t even started the game yet.”

You shrug innocently, tugging the laces on your bowling shoes tighter. “He looked like he deserved it.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jake argues with a whine, and you roll your eyes.

“You had that stupid look on your face.”

“Not defending him, but that’s just what Jake looks like.” Jay interjects with a finger raised to make a point, and Gaeul smacks his hand lightly with a disapproving shake of her head despite her snickering.

Riki sits beside you, handing you a large cup full of what you assume is Dr Pepper that you immediately taste to prove your theory, humming happily and smiling as you thank him. His smile mirrors yours as he begins to put on his own bowling shoes, and you grab your purse, which you had initially placed to your left, from between the two of you to place it elsewhere.

“Here,” He says softly, grabbing your purse from you to put on his other side with his jacket, which he had shed at some point between entering the building and sitting down, and you mutter a soft ‘oh, thank you’ that has his soft smirk widening just a bit before he focuses back on tying his shoes.

You’re somewhat thankful that they seemed to have agreed on teams instead of each of you having your own scoreboard, though seeing every ‘x’ between your ‘5’ points was embarrassing enough. 

Gaeul seems wholly entertained by the gutter ball she just achieved as you cheer for her from your seat between Riki and Heeseung, too distracted by the fun of the game to see the goosebumps on your arms. You’re leaning forward to pluck a fry from the basket of them on the table when you feel a warm something draped over your shoulders. 

Riki is standing for his turn before you can even react, but across the table Gaeul turns to hide her face in Jay’s shoulder to poorly muffle the high pitched squeal she lets out. You ignore the heat rising up your neck, catching the fry between your teeth to slip your arms into the jacket sleeves.

Jay and Gaeul seem to be the only team playing purely for fun, because Jake and Heeseung are neck and neck with you and Riki on the scoreboard and your ‘boyfriend’ looks less than pleased about it. 

It’s near the last round when Jake scores a miraculous nine points that you mentally prepare to accept defeat, looking up at Riki who had just gotten back with your refilled cup, “Horrible news.”

He raises his brows, looking at the scoreboard and cursing under his breath. It’s your final turn, and while you hadn’t completely embarrassed yourself with your subpar bowling skills you probably weren’t good enough or lucky enough to score anything higher than six points. At the moment, HeeJake is in first place.

Gaeul is cheering you on with her back against Jay’s chest, and Riki leans down, resting a hand on the edge of the table beside you, his face just close enough to make your heart race. “No pressure,” he says softly, smirking. “But if you lose, we’re never hearing the end of it.”

You roll your eyes, trying to act unimpressed. “Great pep talk. Truly inspiring.”

He snickers softly, straightening back up as you stand with dread clear on your pretty face. Heeseung pipes up, “Give her a good luck kiss, Romeo.” The glare you shoot the Lacrosse captain only makes him snicker with his hands held up in mock-surrender, “Was just a suggestion.”

The feigned smile you give him has your fake boyfriend plucking your drink from your hands (how did he knew you had an urge to throw it at Heeseung’s face, you’ll never know), and his hands move to your shoulders to walk with you to edge of the lane to grab a pink 7lb bowling ball.

Riki’s grip on your shoulders lingers, and he leans down slightly to murmur near your ear, “Just—aim in the middle.”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a withering look, choosing to ignore his proximity, “Like that isn’t what I’ve been doing.”

“Could've fooled me—ow! Okay, okay,” He’s still laughing despite rubbing his chest where your punch landed, much too cheeky for your liking but his smile is too…something for you to want to wipe it off his face, “You’re better than Jake.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, but it’s hard to ignore the encouragement in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you grip the heavy pink ball tightly, positioning it at your waist. Riki steps back, hands on his hips, his smirk still in place.

“Alright, show us what you’ve got, baby.”

“Oh, shut up.” You grumble softly, shooing him away to get his heart-fluttering grin out of your face, and as you pull his oversized sleeves up your arm to keep it from getting in the way you give yourself a mental pep talk.

Don’t lose, bitch.

It doesn’t help that your nails make putting your fingers in the three designated holes a struggle, and the moment the ball is released into the lane, veering left toward the gutter before God herself takes control and it curves back toward the center and slams into the center pin, you cover your face.

Strike!

Gaeul practically shrieks in excitement as the pins scatter, “Yes, girl!”

You blink, lashes fluttering as you process the cheering as well as groans from Jake, and you gasp, “Holy shit!”

Riki’s joyous laughter is infectious and warm, and you let out a soft shriek that fades into giggles as his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you off your feet in a hug, “Hell yeah, baby!” 

The moment your feet are back on the ground, Gaeul is before you with her hands up for high fives, practically bouncing in excitement for you. It’s practically second nature to you as you match her energy, too high on your miraculous win to notice Riki���s hands lingering on your waist.

Another thing you fail to notice in your moment of joy is a familiar couple just a few lanes over, one party too distracted by the ruckus to pay any attention to the game her boyfriend and his friends dragged her to join.

She watches you smile and laugh as Riki helps you out of your bowling shoes, and her eyes follow you as you walk toward the restrooms with the light blue Prada bag she had always wished you would give her. It isn‘t fair.

You sigh softly as you place your bag on the sink in front of you, unzipping it to grab your lip combo to touch up in the mirror before going back out. As you uncap your lipliner with a muffled click, you hear the bathroom door open but don’t think much of it at the moment.

It isn’t until you look into the mirror, leaning forward slightly to see your lips better, that you see who it is.

“Can I help you?” You ask her reflection with a tilt of your head, tone less confrontational than it should be, but you’re trying to keep your good mood and Nayeon’s face is threatening to ruin it.

She scoffs softly, yet keeps a safe distance, “Do you even like him?”

You look away from the mirror to really look at her, ignoring the satisfaction that her slight flinch brings you, “Excuse me?”

“You moved on fast.” Nayeon states, and you scoff with a smile of both fury and amusement at her audacity, “Is it even real, or did you use daddy’s money to get him to date you?”

The tilt of your head should have been a sign for her to shut her mouth, but she continues when you don’t respond like usual, “But I guess moving from one guy to another is just like you.”

She’s just trying to rile you up, it’s obvious. 

You shake your head with a soft and bitter laugh, looking back at the mirror to continue what you had intended to do, the lip pencil gliding over the edges of your lips and the pad of your ring finger blending the harsh edges. 

Her jaw shifts in the reflection as you cap your lip-liner and exchange it for your lip gloss, and you send her a condescending smile, “You done?”

“You bitch—“ Her words are cut off by another person entering the bathroom, and as you swipe the gloss over your lips, you pause when you see it’s Gaeul.

She glances at Nayeon, but her main focus is on you as she says, “Ready to go?”

You hide your confusion at her question with a pretty smile, closing your gloss and stuffing it back into your bag before you walk to her, shoulder checking the audacious bitch on your way out, “Yep.” 

Gaeul’s arm hooks at your elbow as you both exit the bathroom, and you sigh in relief at being out of that situation before you remember your prior confusion and she explains without you needing to ask, “Your ex is at our table antagonizing Riki, I figured if he’s here she would be too.” 

Your brows furrow and you quickly pick up the pace of your stride with fury souring your mood once again. When you turn the corner, your gaze zeroes in on Riki, who’s leaning back in his seat seemingly unbothered by whatever it is that Eunseok is saying to him, and Nayeon hastens past you to join her boyfriend’s side.

Eunseok’s eyes land on you the moment his girlfriend puts herself on his arm, and they follow you as you approach Riki without even a glance his way until he speaks, “You move on fast.” He snorts, soft and bitter, “Didn’t expect you to open your legs so fast considering how long it took you to put out.”

You ignore him, though the anger in your gut is boiling hot as your gaze moves to Riki, who you find is already standing now, his jaw shifting yet no other sign in his body language that he’s as pissed as his narrowed eyes say he is. Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all watch, though from their body language you can tell they’re not exactly about to stand by if your ‘boyfriend’ decides to throw a well-deserved punch.

His gaze moves to yours the moment your hand finds his, softening as your fingers intertwine with his and you mutter, “Let’s go.”

He nods wordlessly, his willingness only pissing Eunseok off more as he laughs mockingly, and you feel Riki’s hand tighten around yours, “Already got him trained, huh? He like how mean you are?” 

“I do, yeah.” Riki responds for you with a smug smirk, “She’s got a hell of a bite.”

The second meaning to his words isn’t lost on you, and you find the way Eunseok bristles at the comment amusing enough to not get mad at Riki for it later considering the two of you obviously hadn't done more than hold hands. (You hear Jake choke on his drink, too.)

“Bro, it’s your turn!” Calls a familiar male across the bowling alley, Sohee. 

You take the moment of brief distraction to shoot a pointed look at Jake, who gets up from his seat to play peacemaker with Heeseung.

Jay seems to motion for Riki to leave while they’re distracted by the two, and you shoot Gaeul an apologetic glance that she receives with a shake of her head and a look that reads ‘don’t be sorry’ as Riki leads you out of the building.

The moment the frigid air hits you, you tug the sleeves of his jacket down your arms again and shiver slightly. “He’s such a dick.” You sigh softly, “I’m sorry.”

Riki shakes his head as the two of you stop just a few paces outside the entrance, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to rub at your arms to help you warm up, and the sight of both of your breaths visible in the cold has you moving to take his jacket off to give to him, but his hands cover yours the moment they start pulling at the open zipper. “I’m okay.”

“Riki, it’s cold as shit.”

“All the more reason for you to keep the jacket.” He argues back with a soft smirk, “Really, I practice in the cold every day.” 

“You’re active, then. Not standing around,” You fuss, and he tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement before a cheeky smirk grows on his face.

“‘You worried about me, pretty girl?”

“Oh, stop it.” You groan with a poorly concealed warm laugh, and he catches your hands as you weakly swat at his chest, pulling you closer. “Riki.”

Your soft mutter of his name has his eyes shutting and his head falling back with a soft groan escaping his lips, “You’re so mean, baby.”

“It isn’t fair to you.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your statement, shaking his head and leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

“Just a kiss.” He pleas softly, his nose brushing yours and you inhale sharply, “Just one.”

His words flip your stomach inside out, and as you sigh his name again he leans in.

“Oh shit!” The sudden exclamation has you and Riki both startling away from each other, Jake grinning like a maniac at the doors with Heeseung, Jay, and Gaeul behind him. “Fuck, did I just ruin a moment?”

You groan, turning away from them to begin walking to Riki’s Jeep, arms crossed to protect yourself from the cold and your mind in utter shambles because—

What the fuck?

Jake gets a ride from Heeseung home according to Riki, who had unlocked his car for you to get in while he said goodbye to the others. A part of you regrets not saying goodbye to Gaeul, but the thought of spending another second under their gaze at that moment felt suffocating.

The silence in the car is loud. Not awkward loud, but loud enough that every glance out the window and every shift in your seat feels amplified. Riki’s hands stay firmly on the wheel, his fingers drumming against the edge of the leather cover as he fiddles with the turn signal.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but slightly strained, “you’ve got a mean bowling game for someone who swore they’d lose.”

You glance at him, catching the way the passing streetlights make his jawline look sharper. “That’s because I hustle. Low expectations are a great strategy.”

He huffs a small laugh, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You lean back against the seat, trying to ignore the fact that your heart still hasn’t settled since that moment at the alley—the one where his face was too close, his breath too warm, and you almost forgot this whole thing was fake.

“So… next time?” you tease, arching a brow. “How much more mortifying teasing can you handle?”

“Depends,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “How long does it take to make your ex think he lost the best thing that ever happened to him?”

Your laugh comes out before you can stop it. “It’ll probably never happen, I just like to see him squirm.” The weight of his words sits in the air between you, heavier than it should be. You turn to look out the window, feigning interest in the row of darkened houses you pass by. 

“You know,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think they’re worth this much effort. Your ex and… her.”

You blink, surprised at his shift in tone. “Well, thanks for that motivational speech, Riki. Really helps my self-esteem.”

He shakes his head, glancing at you briefly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean… if they couldn’t see how good they had it with you, that’s on them. You don’t need to prove anything.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. You open your mouth to reply, but the words don’t come. Instead, you study him in the dim light, wondering—not for the first time—why he agreed to this in the first place.

“Why are you doing this, Riki?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “I told you, I need you to help me pass Chem.”

You narrow your eyes, not convinced but also not ready to push. “You haven’t even asked for help past me giving you my old notes.”

He smirks again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “They’re just that helpful. Don’t overthink it.”

And maybe you don’t, because overthinking means dissecting the way he’s looking at you now in the faint glow of the dashboard, like he knows something you don’t.

The car slows to a stop in front of your house and you fiddle with the hem of your halter top, trying to figure out how to say what’s been sitting heavy in your chest since the bowling alley. “Riki,” you start, your voice softer than usual.

He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.

You take a steadying breath. “I don’t think… I’m ready for a real relationship.”

That gets his attention. His hands shift in his lap, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” he says after a beat, his tone cautious. “Where’s this coming from?”

You shift in your seat, suddenly finding the dashboard very interesting. “It’s just… you’ve been really good to me this past week, and I feel like it’s not fair to you. I mean, you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel, and I don’t want to lead you on or—”

“Hey.” His voice is calm, steady, and it makes you pause. “You’re not leading me on. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Yeah, but…” You trail off, frustration bubbling up because the words in your head won’t come out the way you want them to. “It’s not just about you. It’s about me, too. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with… all of this. Not after everything with him. It’s too much.”

He doesn’t say anything right away, which somehow makes it worse. The silence stretches, and you’re about to apologize—again—when he finally speaks.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I think we should stop,” you say, hating how small your voice sounds. “The fake dating, I mean.”

He nods, almost imperceptibly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not—” You stop yourself, biting your lip as your eyes burn. “I just… I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve someone who’s all in, and I can’t be that right now.”

His lips twitch into a faint, almost sad smile. “You’re thinking too much about me again.”

You frown, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs lightly, his eyes moving away from you briefly before they settle back on yours. “It means you’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. I’m a big boy; I’ll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He cuts you off gently, an easy smile still on his face. “If this is what you need, we’ll stop. No hard feelings.”

The simplicity of his response hits harder than you expected. It’s so Riki—quietly selfless, always willing to go along with what makes you happy.

You hate how much you suddenly want to reach across the console and kiss the life out of him. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile.

“Thanks, Riki.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anytime.”

You watch him exit his car, circle around the front, and open your door for you while holding a chivalrous hand out just like before. A part of your heart aches with the knowledge he’s still doing this despite not technically having to, and you smile softly as you accept his help. His hand doesn’t linger in yours as it did before, though.

The walk to your front door is silent, and he halts just before the step onto your porch, his hands in his pockets, you pause before approaching your door, turning to him. With the few inches that the porch gives you, meeting his gaze is easier. “Tonight was really fun, ignoring the end of it,”

He chuckles softly, “Glad you had fun, pretty girl.” 

If he didn’t mean to let the name slip he doesn’t show any signs of panic or regret, only meeting your nearly-level gaze with warmth.

There’s a moment before you turn your body only slightly towards the front door, “Goodnight.”

His hand catches your elbow gently as you begin to turn away from him, pulling you back yet giving you time to pull away if you so desire, and you don’t.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s softer than you imagined it’d be. His hand moves to your cheek yet pauses just before his skin touches yours, lips sweet and slow against yours. 

It’s over before you can kiss back like you want to, his lips parting from yours with a soft smack that makes your stomach flip. 

“Goodnight.” He bids in a low mumble, barely an inch from your lips when the words leave his and he takes a step back with a soft smile that makes your heart twist painfully, “See you Monday.”

You can only nod, forcing a slight smile and turning to punch in the door code with shaky hands and a heavy, aching heart.

part two.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.