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"Princess , why are you taking so long? Are you having trouble tying the strings? I can help you with that", his tone was laced with suggestiveness as he knocked on the door of the bathroom that was connected to the room the two of you stayed in.

Everyone was planning to swim or cool off in the huge pool Jay's family owned at their vacation house , the screeches coming from Sunoo and the laughter coming from Sunghoon were so loud that you could hear them all the way up to the second floor. You could only stare down at yourself.

This was the worst.

It wasn't the bikini , the bikini was cute as hell. It was just , you ── your chest. It was too small , barely visible and in your eyes ── the bikini didn't look flattering at all , your chest didn't look flattering at all.

You wanted to cry and scream , to tear the bikini apart ── you opted for crying.

You couldn't see the playful smirk Riki had on his face that vanished quickly as soon as he heard the way you sniffled , immediately recognizing that you were crying. He didn't hesitate , his hand pressing the door handle down and pushing the door gently open.

His breath hitched as his eyes landed on you , scanning you from head to toe ── you looked .... so pretty , he had to give himself a pat on the shoulder for making the right choice of buying it for you. But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside , now wasn't the time to admire you , it was time to comfort you.

"Why are you crying? Did you get your period? What's wrong baby, tell me what's wrong", he reached his hand out to your shoulder to turn you around and make you face him , his left hand coming up to cup the side of your face , his thumb gently wiping away the tears that were slowly rolling down your cheek.

You just sniffled again , your eyes glancing down to which he tapped his finger against your cheek.

"Use your big words Princess. Tell me what's wrong , why are you crying?", he asked again , waiting patiently for you to reply.

"I look fucking ugly and ridiculous. I look like a door , I'm built like a door! I look ridiculous in this and so does my chest", his heart broke as he heard those words ── the only thing ridiculous was you thinking that. To him , you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and your chest? Don't get him started on that ── your chest was sexy to him , no matter the size and if anything , he preferred the way your chest looked.

"Nonsense , Princess. You look absolutely stunning. You look so cute and sexy in it.... and your chest? Is that your issue?", he asked as his hand moved from your shoulder down to your hip , pulling you flush against his chest while his fingers played with the strings resting on your hip that kept one side of your bikini bottom tied.

You just nodded your head , a soft coo coming from him.

"but your chest looks so pretty in it... with or without top , your boobs are absolutely sexy baby. You should know by now that I fucking love your chest , you still have the bite mark from yesterday on your right boob", he mumbled as his eyes trailed down to your chest , his mind wandering as he started to undress you with his eyes.

"but..."

"No buts baby , don't you know what you're doing to me?", he mumbled as he dipped his head down , his plump lips brushing against the small yet soft swell of your breast before pressing a hot lingering kiss on the surface.

He pressed his hips harder against yours , more properly so you could feel the bulge that formed in his chrome hearts swimming trunks , a startled yet soft gasp coming from you.

"You feel it now? You make me so fucking hard princess... just from your chest alone. I'll just show you how much i love your two girls"

"but the others──"

"The others can wait. I have an appointment with your boobs which is more important"

His hands found their way down to the back of your thighs , grabbing firmly onto the soft flesh as he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his hips , his head still buried in your chest. He was busy leaving kisses and soft sucks or bites on your skin while he carried you over to the bed , his left hand sneakily gliding up your back to loosen the strings of your bikini top while his right hand trailed up to your hip to loosen the string of your bikini bottom , letting them get lost on the way to the bed.

“Whatever,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “I let you win, you know that, right?” His cocky expression made your nose scrunch in irritation. Huffing, you retorted, “No, I won fair and squa—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the world tilted. In a blur, Riki’s wrists twisted out of your grip with ease, and in one swift movement, he flipped you onto your back. A startled gasp left your lips as your body met the plush mattress, the air momentarily knocked from your lungs. Your hands instinctively reached out to push him off, but it was useless—he was already caging your wrists above your head, his fingers wrapping around them with little effort.

Your heartbeat stuttered, your body suddenly feeling so much smaller beneath him. Riki loomed over you, his frame casting a shadow over yours, his weight effortlessly pinning you down. His long fingers, once restrained, now held you in place as if you were nothing more than a plaything in his grasp. His expression was unreadable, but there was an undeniable flicker of satisfaction in his darkened gaze as he took in the sight of you beneath him—wide-eyed, breathless, utterly at his mercy.

“Fair and square, huh?” His voice was a deep murmur, laced with amusement as he dipped his face closer to yours. His lips curled into a smirk, his head tilting as he studied your expression.

You fluttered your lashes, still trying to recover from how easily he’d turned the tables on you. The power dynamic had shifted so suddenly, so effortlessly, that it sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re a cheater,” you whispered, brows furrowed, a pout settling on your lips.

Riki only chuckled, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Am i?” he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth.

You writhed beneath him, stubbornly refusing to accept defeat even as your strength dwindled against his grip. Your breath hitched as you twisted your wrists, but it was useless—Riki was bigger, stronger, and effortlessly holding you in place. A frustrated sigh left your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “Let me go,” you whined, a last-ditch attempt at regaining control. “I already won, cheater.”

Riki only chuckled, low and mocking, his head tilting as he looked down at you like you were nothing more than an amusing little thing beneath him. His fingers flexed around your wrists, pressing them deeper into the mattress, his weight keeping you trapped beneath him. “No can do, pretty,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “I like it this way.”

A shiver ran down your spine as one of his hands moved, trailing down to the hem of your oversized shirt—his shirt. The fabric bunched beneath his fingertips, and your breath quickened, panic and anticipation tangling into something dangerous. His other hand remained wrapped around your wrist, keeping you caged, helpless, completely at his mercy.

“Riki,” you whimpered, jutting out your bottom lip in a weak attempt at garnering sympathy. “This isn’t fair.” His dark eyes locked onto yours, sharp and unyielding, amusement dancing within them as he took in the sight of you—pinned, squirming, utterly powerless. You swallowed hard.

He looked like a predator toying with his prey, dragging the moment out just to watch you suffer.

His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his breath ghosting along the shell of your ear. The heat of him was suffocating, and then— “Yeah? What’s a pathetic little slut like you gonna do about it?”

A sharp gasp left your lips, the crude words sending a jolt through your body. Your thighs pressed together involuntarily, seeking friction, seeking anything, and Riki noticed immediately. His gaze flickered downward, catching the desperate movement, and his large hand landed firmly on the curve of your thigh. His fingers dug in, gripping.

You whimpered at the degradation, your body betraying you, heat pooling in your core. Riki chuckled at the sound, at how easily you crumbled under his touch. He shifted, his lips dragging along the curve of your neck, leaving teasing, feather-light kisses that had you trembling. You squirmed, another weak attempt at pulling away, but it only made him tighten his grip.

His hand moved to your face, his fingers tracing the shape of your cheek with deceptive gentleness. And then, without warning, he tilted your chin up and crashed his lips against yours, rough and eager. The force of it stole the air from your lungs, and when his hand came down on your thigh in a sharp slap, you gasped, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

The sounds that filled the space between you—breathless whimpers, the slick slide of lips, the faint rustle of sheets—only added to your growing desperation. When you finally managed to push him back, a thin string of saliva connected your lips, and your chest heaved as you stared up at him, pupils blown wide with need.

Riki watched, eyes dark, unreadable. Then, slowly, a wicked grin spread across his lips. “Pathetic,” he mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you were so wet for him.

He let go of your wrist, and your arm dropped limply above your head, the skin flushed where his fingers had gripped you too tightly.

Riki leans back against the headboard, his long legs stretching out effortlessly. He watches you with hooded eyes, dark and hungry, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a silent command.

Without hesitation, you crawl toward him, the sharp edges of your collarbones shifting beneath your skin with every movement. His sheer size overshadowed you, his frame broad and solid against the plush bedding, while your own body feels weightless in comparison.

His hands are on you the moment you settle onto his lap, large and warm as they trace the ridges of your ribs beneath your oversize shirt. He moves slowly, deliberately, lifting the fabric over your head.

His breath hitches as he takes you in—your delicate frame, the lace bralette barely concealing your small, perky breasts, the hollow space between your thighs as you straddle him. His fingers ghost over the jut of your hip bones, circling them like he’s mapping out something precious, something his.

“Stop being mean,” you moaned softly, barely above a whisper, hoping—praying—he would take pity on you. But Riki thrived on this—on control, on watching you struggle against the inevitable.

“You really don’t get it, do you,” he murmurs, voice thick with something possessive. His hands slide lower, gripping your waist with ease, thumbs pressing into your skin like he’s testing how much you can take.

“I could do whatever I want to you right now,” he said, almost to himself. His voice was flat, but there was something predatory beneath it, like he was marveling at how easily you crumbled. “And you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

You whimpered—half in fear, half in want. You grind your hips instinctively, knowing what he wants before he even has to say it.

His touch is rough but reverent as he strips away your shorts, leaving you in nothing but lace and vulnerability. He takes his time, gaze dragging over every inch of you, savoring the way you look beneath him—fragile, breakable. His expression darkens.

Wordlessly your fingers find the hem of his shirt. You’re barely able to pull it over his head before he discards it entirely, revealing a body carved from sheer strength. Your smaller hands press against his abdomen, tracing the hard lines of muscle, feeling the power beneath his skin.

His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You feel the hard press of him through his sweats, a sharp contrast to your softness. His lips brush against your ear, voice dripping with control.

“You’re so delicate,” he breathes, rolling his hips up just enough to make you shudder. “So easy to ruin.”

A whimper escapes you, and he chuckles—low, deep, indulgent. His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. His thumb presses against your lips before trailing down, tracing the column of your throat, pressing lightly against your pulse.

“You want me to wreck you, don’t you?”

Your breath hitches, and he smirks, already knowing the answer. His smirk deepens as he watches you struggle to speak, your lips parting, breath shaky. His thumb lingers at the base of your throat, pressing just enough to remind you of the difference in your sizes—the way his hand alone could encircle your fragile neck with ease.

“Use your mouth,” he murmurs, his voice a dark velvet command.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, the way he drinks in every little reaction from you—the way your ribs shift with each uneven breath, the way your thighs tremble despite barely moving. Your fingers curl against his stomach, gripping onto anything solid as you force yourself to answer.

“Yes, Riki. Want you to… ruin me.” you whisper, your voice small, a stark contrast to the overwhelming presence of him.

“Good girl.” The praise is low, rough, laced with something dangerous. There was no warmth in the way he looked at you. Only possession. He shifted, dragging his sweats down just enough to free his hard on. You froze. The size of him—it was almost intimidating.

You swallowed hard, already aching from how full you knew you were about to be. He grabbed your hand, wrapped it around his cock. Made you feel how hard he was. How ready. He didn’t ask if you wanted it. You already said enough.

His grip tightens at your waist, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you effortlessly, positioning you exactly where he wants you—like you weigh nothing at all. He’s toying with you, rubbing himself across your socked folds. He enjoyed the contrast, the way your tiny frame fits so perfectly against him.

His free hand trails down your back, fingers tracing the delicate bumps of your spine before gripping onto your hip, pressing his thumb into the sharp dip. He tilts his head, studying you like he’s figuring out just how much you can take.

His hands move lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading them wider as he keeps you balanced in his lap. He lets out a low chuckle as he glances down at the space between them, his gaze flicking back up to yours with amusement.

“This little gap between your thighs…” he muses, running his fingers along the inside of your leg, barely touching, teasing. “So small… how are you supposed to take me, hm?”

You whimper, pressing closer, wordlessly begging for more. His fingers dig into your skin in response, a silent warning.

“Patience.” The word is firm, dripping with authority.

His other hand slides up your side, thumb grazing the faint outline of your ribs. His gaze darkens. “I can feel every inch of you.” He leans in, lips grazing over the thin skin just beneath your jaw, a barely-there kiss before he bites down, enough to make you gasp. “So breakable.”

Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin, desperate for something to ground you. He’s all around you—his voice in your ears, his hands on your body, his heat sinking into your bones.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, each word a slow, deliberate promise. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

His words settle deep into your bones, a dark promise wrapped in velvet. Riki takes his time, reveling in the contrast—his sheer size against your fragile form, the way your thin body fits so easily in his grasp.

His dark eyes trace over you, drinking in the sight of your sharp collarbones, the delicate outline of your ribs, the soft expanse of your stomach. His lips curl into something possessive, something dangerous.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. His thumb trails down your sternum, pressing lightly against the hollow between your ribs. “So tiny… like you were made to be handled like this.”

A whimper escapes you, your body trembling slightly under his touch. You know he feels it—feels how easily he could control you, how effortlessly he could shape you to his will. His grip tightens in response, and he smirks.

“You like it, don’t you?” His voice is low, teasing, his hands guiding you down until the heat of him presses flush against you, sending a shiver up your spine. He doesn’t move any further, just holds you there, watching, waiting.

You let out a desperate little noise, shifting slightly, but he doesn’t budge. His fingers flex against your hips, keeping you still. “Say it,” he commands.

“I—I like it,” you breathe, barely above a whisper. His smirk deepens. “You like feeling small? Like knowing I can do whatever I want with you?” Your head nods instinctively, but it’s not enough. His hand is on your jaw in an instant, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. His fingers press in just enough to part your lips.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “I love it.”

A satisfied growl rumbles in his chest. “That’s my girl.”

And then he moves.

His hands guide you down, inch by inch, stretching you out, making you take every part of him. A broken moan slips from your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body struggles to adjust. The sheer size of him against your delicate frame makes your breath hitch, makes your mind blur with the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled.

His head falls back against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he watches you struggle to take all of him, your tiny body trembling against his. His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down slightly, feeling the way he stretches you from the inside. His dark eyes flicker with something primal.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, almost in awe. “So small, yet you’re taking me so well.”

You can’t think, can’t breathe—all you can do is feel him, everywhere, inside and out. Your hands clutch onto him for support, your head falling forward against his shoulder as he finally starts to move, slow at first, savoring the way your body reacts to him.

The pace doesn’t stay gentle for long. Riki’s control snaps as he grips your hips and starts pulling you down harder, faster, setting a brutal rhythm that has you gasping for air. His lips are everywhere—brushing over your throat, your collarbones, your shoulders—biting, marking, claiming. Each thrust sends a shockwave through your body, his strength overwhelming, consuming.

“You feel that?” he growls against your ear, his hand pressing against your stomach again. “I’m so deep inside you… I can see the way you stretch around me.”

Your vision blurs, pleasure and pain mixing into something intoxicating. Your body feels weightless, completely at his mercy, lost in the feeling of being utterly dominated.

“You’re mine,” Riki breathes, his voice rough with possession. His fingers grip your chin, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “Say it.”

“Y-Yours,” you gasp, barely able to form words. Eyes rolling into your skull, mouth hung open.

A dark smile plays on his lips. “That’s right, baby.” His pace quickens, sending you spiraling, your body breaking apart beneath his hands. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Your breath comes in sharp moans, body trembling as his fucks himself ruthlessly into you. Riki doesn’t slow, doesn’t ease up—his grip stays firm, controlling every movement, every reaction, molding you to his will.

His hands, large and warm, slide down your back, pressing against the delicate ridges of your spine, keeping you flush against him. The heat between your bodies is overwhelming, a stark contrast between his strength and your fragility. His lips ghost over your jaw, brushing against your ear as he speaks, voice rough with control.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his fingers pressing lightly into your stomach. “Feel how deep I am?” You were full—stuffed to the edge of what you could handle.

Your body shudders, head tilting back as your hands grasp at his shoulders, seeking any form of stability. His grip tightens.

“Look at me,” he commands.

It takes effort, but you meet his gaze—dark, hungry, filled with something possessive. His thumb drags along your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle as he watches you struggle against the overwhelming sensation of him.

“So small,” he muses, almost to himself. His hand slides back to your waist, fingers spreading wide, nearly spanning the entirety of your narrow frame. “Yet you take everything I give you.”

He thrust up into you with sharp, brutal rhythm. Each movement knocked the air from your lungs, sent sparks through your spine. His hands guided your body like you were nothing more than a doll—something soft and weak and pliable in his grip. He watches you with dark amusement, watches the salty tears falling down your face.

Riki doesn’t stop—he keeps you right where he wants you, controlling every movement, every sound that leaves your lips. His strength is overwhelming, his presence all-consuming. The way he holds you, the way he moves, it’s like he’s claiming you over and over again, leaving no part of you untouched, no space between you unfilled.

Your body trembles, struggling to keep up with the pace he sets, but he keeps you steady, his grip firm, unrelenting. His fingers press into your hips, guiding you effortlessly, making sure you take every bit of him.

“To fucked out, baby?” His voice is thick with something dark, something possessive, as he presses a hand to your stomach again, feeling the way your body stretches around him. “To full to even think huh.”

Your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut as the tension coils tighter and tighter inside you. His breath is hot against your skin, his lips tracing the slope of your neck, biting, marking, making sure you’ll feel him even when he’s not there.

“Look at me,” he commands again, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

Somehow, you manage to lift your head, your dazed eyes meeting his. His gaze is molten, burning with something intense, something primal. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs tracing the delicate lines of your ribs before gripping your waist again.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice low and rough, his movements growing sharper, more desperate.

Your body is already teetering on the edge, every nerve alight, every part of you wound tight and ready to snap.

“I-I’m yours, Riki.”

And that’s all it takes.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbles in his chest as he finally lets go, filling you up to the brim. his grip on you tightening as he pulls you against him, holding you there as waves of pleasure crash over you both. Your body trembles in his arms, your mind blank, lost in the feeling of being completely his.

Riki keeps you close, his breathing heavy, his hands trailing soothing circles against your back as you come down from the high. Your small frame is limp against him, exhausted, spent. His lips press gently against your temple, a stark contrast to the dominance he held moments ago.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, laced with something almost tender.

Your eyes flutter shut, your body sinking into his warmth, completely safe despite the intensity of what just happened. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, as if he has no intention of letting you go—not now, not ever.

And as sleep pulls you under, the last thing you hear is his voice, a quiet promise against your skin.

“You’re mine.”

The music cut out as Niki angrily walked over to the laptop connected to the speaker and aggressively reset the music. The echo of his heavy breathing bouncing off the mirrored walls of the empty dance studio. Sweat clung to his neck, soaking the collar of his shirt. He stared at his reflection – red-faced, muscles tense, chest rising and falling too fast. The stupid choreography just wasn’t clicking. 

“Again,” he grunted, breathing hard and intensely as he pressed play.

He kept going through the steps, stumbling on one of the counts. His foot caught on the wrong beat, arms jerking out of sync. He hissed a curse under his breath, dragging his hands through his hair and yanking it back like he could shake himself into doing the move right. 

“Niki?” 

He froze. That voice. Soft, familiar, and getting under his skin. 

He turned, slow and sharp, and there she was—leaning against the doorway, his hoodie half-zipped over her tank top, hair pulled up lazily, like she hadn’t come here to interrupt him but just found herself here.

Niki’s jaw tightened.

“What?” he snapped, harsher than he meant. Her eyes flinched, just barely.

“I was just passing by. Thought I’d see how rehearsal was going.”

“Well, now you’ve seen,” he said, arms crossed, his tone all cut glass and fire.

Y/n didn’t move. Didn’t shrink.

“You’re pissed,” she said plainly, stepping further inside, letting the door shut behind her. Her eyes flicked to the scuffed floor, then back to him. “Is it the turn again?”

“I had it. Last week I had it,” Niki growled, pacing like a caged animal. “And now it’s like my body forgot everything. I’m wasting time. I’m wasting everyone’s time.”

“No one’s here,” she said. “Just me.”

“Exactly,” he shot back. “So go.”

Y/n raised a brow, challenging. “You really want me to go?”

His chest tightened. God, she knew exactly how to make him unravel. She always had.

She took a step closer, and then another, until they were nearly chest to chest, his breath ghosting against her lips. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His fists were clenched at his sides.

She reached up, fingers brushing a damp curl off his forehead. “You're allowed to be frustrated, Niki. But don’t take it out on me like that.”

His eyes closed. Just for a second. Like the contact short-circuited his storm. But when he looked at her again, the fire was still there—less rage now, more... something else.

“Why do you always come in when I’m at my worst?” he murmured, voice low, rough.

“Because I know you don’t need anyone when you’re at your best.”

The tension between them hung like static. She was so close. His hands hovered near her hips like he wanted to hold her, but didn’t trust himself to. Not yet.

“I hate how you do that,” he muttered.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I’m not falling apart when I clearly am.”

Y/n smiled, slow and knowing. “You're not falling apart, Niki. You’re just mid-spin.”

His laugh was more of a breath, shaky and bitter-sweet. He let his forehead rest against hers.

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You still love me.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, hands finally wrapping around his waist. “I do.”

The music was silent, but somehow, the room felt full again. Niki could still feel the anger lingering below his skin, the furrow between his brows still evident despite the slight comfort his girl was bringing him. Thinking about how he kept messing up brought the anger and annoyance back to the forefront of his mind. 

“Just watch me,” he growled, stalking back to the center of the room. “And keep your mouth shut.”

Y/n nodded and perched on the edge of a chair against the wall. Niki took a deep breath and launched into the routine again, trying to ignore her presence. But no matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on him. Distracting him.

After several more botched attempts, Niki finally gave up with a loud groan of frustration. He kicked over a trash can and stalked toward y/n, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. 

“Come here,” he snarled, dragging her over to the mirrors.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked nervously, trying to tug her arm free. 

Niki ignored her and shoved her down to her knees, shoving his sweatpants down to reveal his hardening cock. "You're going to suck my dick so I can get rid of some of this frustration," he ordered coldly.

Y/n's eyes widened. "Niki, we're in public-"

"I don't give a fuck," Niki cut her off viciously, fisting a hand in her hair and yanking her head forward. "Open your mouth."

Y/n whimpered but obeyed, parting her lips to let him shove his cock inside. Niki groaned at the feel of her warm mouth enveloping him and started pumping his hips, fucking her face without preamble.

"That's it, take it," he panted, watching their reflection in the mirror. Y/n's cheeks hollowed as she sucked him eagerly, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Niki used his grip on her hair to control her movements, forcing her to take him deeper.

He pulled out with a wet pop after a few minutes, leaving Y/n gasping and coughing. "Get up," he barked, hauling her to her feet and spinning her around to face the mirror.

Y/n braced her hands on the glass, looking at him with tear-filled eyes in their reflection. 

"Are you gonna try to be gentle?" she whispered.

Niki scoffed and pulled her pants down, resting them just below her ass and shoving her panties aside. "You want me to be gentle? After I've been busting my ass for hours and you interrupt me?"

He drove into her cunt with one brutal thrust, making them both groan. Y/n's pussy was hot and tight around him, clenching down instinctively.

"That's right, baby, let me take it out on you," Niki grunted, setting a punishing pace. He gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he fucked her, slamming into her with enough force to make her breasts bounce in the mirror. "Fucking take it like a good little girl for me, hm?"

Y/n could only moan and push back against him, loving the rough treatment despite herself. She could see how sexy they looked together in the mirror - Niki's lean, muscular body jackhammering into hers, his muscles flexing with every thrust. She could also see the frustration etched into his face, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he used her.

"Just like that, pretty girl." Niki growled, leaning over to bite at her neck possessively while placing his hands over hers on the mirror. "Milk my fucking cock. I know you love being used like this."

"Yes," Y/n whimpered breathlessly. "I love it. I love you."

Those words seemed to snap something inside Niki. He reared back and spanked her hard, making her yelp. "Don't fucking say that," he snarled. "You don't get to love me when I'm so pissed off."

He resumed fucking her savagely, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks. Y/n could only sob and take it, tears streaming down her face as she came with a scream, pussy clamping down on him like a vice.

"Fuck!" Niki growled, slamming into her one last time before stilling deep inside. He came hard, painting her insides with thick ropes of cum as he emptied himself inside of her.

They collapsed together against the mirror, Niki's softening cock still buried inside her as they caught their breath. Y/n could feel his heart pounding against her back, could feel the sheen of sweat that coated their bodies.

"I'm sorry," Niki mumbled after a long moment, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. "I didn't mean to be so rough. I just...I'm so frustrated and I took it out on you."

Y/n turned in his arms to face him, cupping his face in her hands. "I know," she said softly. "But you needed to let it out somehow. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Niki closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, breathing in her comforting scent. He knew he was lucky to have her, even if he didn't always treat her like it.

"Thank you," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "For putting up with my bullshit. And for letting me use you like that."

Y/n smiled and kissed him back. "Anytime, baby," she murmured. "Now why don't we go get cleaned up and I'll make you something to eat, hm? You need to keep your strength up for another round of this later."

Niki laughed and swatted her ass playfully as she led him out of the studio. He knew he still had a lot of work ahead of him...but with y/n by his side, he felt like he could take on anything.

“Thought you were cute back there,” Riki sneers, two fingers sliding inside you with ease, soaked from how many times he’s already made you fall apart. “Giggling like a dumb little slut. Flashing your thighs like you’re begging to get fucked in front of the whole damn restaurant.”

“Riki—Riki please, I can’t—” “You can. You just don’t fucking listen.” He leans in, lips brushing your ear, voice low and venomous. “Brats like you don’t get to tap out. You wanted attention? You got it.”

He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles while his fingers curl deep inside you. “Look at you now. Shaking just from my fucking hand.”

Your vision’s blurry. Legs kicking. You’re soaked, overstimulated, ruined—and he won’t stop. Every time your body jerks away, he grabs your hips and forces you down onto his hand harder. “I used to call you my good girl,” he mutters, eyes dark and hungry. “But good girls don’t act like filthy fucking teases. You want daddy’s money, his time, his cock? Then fucking behave.”

You sob out his name as another orgasm crashes through you, your thighs convulsing. Riki doesn’t slow down. Just leans back, watching you unravel with a cruel smirk and a soaked hand.

“Pathetic,” he mutters. “You’ll take one more. Since you like acting like a whore so much.”

And when you finally beg him to stop—when the pleasure feels like too much, when you’re hiccuping his name, tears staining your cheeks—he finally slows.

Pulls his fingers out, sticky and glistening, and shoves them in your mouth.

“Taste what a little brat like you deserves.”

But today, you weren’t thinking about Jae. Your thoughts were, as usual, drifting to the one person who was always present — Riki.

He was a few rows ahead of you, lounging in his seat in his usual cocky way. His black leather jacket was draped over the back of his chair, and his headphones rested around his neck. Riki was everything Jake wasn't - mysterious, musing, and undeniably attractive in a way that made you want to get closer, even though he was the last person you'd ever admit you were drawn to.

As Mr. Choi continued on, you noticed Riki glance toward you. His eyes lingered just a second longer than they should have, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something in his gaze. But then, as always, he quickly looked away. It was like he had this quiet fascination with you, but he was too proud to show it.

And that’s what pissed you off about him. He was just like Jae in the sense that he never gave a care about anyone, always too cool for school, playing the part of the ''bad boy.''

"Y/N," Mr. Choi's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back into the moment. "Care to tell the class the answer?"

You blinked, suddenly aware that everyone’s eyes were on you.

You hadn’t heard a word of the lesson.

Riki chuckled quietly from the front, the sound low and almost mocking. "I guess she's not paying attention. Typical."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as best as you could. "Sorry, Mr. Choi. Can you repeat the question?"

He sighed, clearly annoyed. "I said, what year did the Civil War end?"

"1865," you replied, without missing a beat.

"Correct," Mr. Choi muttered, before turning back to his lecture.

As class continued, Riki's eyes were on you again, just out of your line of vision. You hated how his attention made your heart race, even though you’d never admit it out loud. Riki was trouble. The kind of trouble you didn’t need in your life. You already had enough with Jae

But that didn't stop you from noticing him every chance you got. You couldn’t help but wonder - if he’d ever stop pretending to be so mean, what would he be like? Was he really the jerk everyone said he was, or was it just a act?

The bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grabbed your things and hurried out of the classroom, avoiding eye contact with Riki as best as you could.

The bell rang, signaling the end of another class. You shuffled through your papers, gathering your stuff, hoping for a peaceful exit. The tension from the gaze of Riki from yesterday still lingered, but you figured it was just another day. Another day of dealing with the mind games that seemed to follow you everywhere.

You were on your way out of class when you heard the sound of shoes shuffling on the floor behind you.

Of course, you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. But you kept walking, pretending you didn’t notice him following you down the hallway.

"Where’s your boyfriend?" Riki’s voice cut through the silence, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did he finally get tired of you?"

You kept your eyes straight ahead, the words stinging more than they should. He had a way of pushing buttons that made you want to snap, but you kept your cool.

"He’s busy," you muttered, not bothering to explain further.

Riki snorted. "Yeah, I bet he’s busy with some other girl. He’s a real prize, huh?" His voice was laced with mockery, but there was something almost... too pointed about it.

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "What do you care?" you shot back, glancing at him.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something — was it amusement? Frustration? It was hard to tell. He leaned against the locker, crossing his arms. "Just curious," he said, shrugging. "Wouldn’t want you to get too attached to a loser like him. He’s not even worth the breath you waste on him."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?"

Riki raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "What’s the matter, huh? Can’t handle a little truth?" His words were like a jab to your chest. The way he looked at you, like you were some kind of puzzle he was trying to solve, made your stomach twist with confusion.

You felt a wave of frustration hit you. "You don’t know anything about me," you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

"Do I not?" Riki’s voice dropped to a low, almost dangerous tone. He was standing right in front of you now. His eyes glinted with something unreadable. "I know enough."

Before you could respond, Riki pushed himself off the locker and turned, as if the conversation was over. "You’re just another girl caught up in a bad relationship. No different from all the others."

"Yeah, well, maybe I’ll get tired of it," you muttered under your breath. "Maybe I’ll just walk away."

Riki’s smirk deepened as he glanced back over his shoulder. "Wouldn’t surprise me. You don’t seem the type to stick around when things get real."

You gritted your teeth, fists clenched. He was right about one thing — you were done with Jae, and maybe... maybe you were done with Riki’s games too.

"You think you know me?" you said, your voice cold. "You don’t. So keep your opinion to yourself."

Riki only glanced with a intense gaze, before walking off, leaving you there, heart racing with frustration.

But even as you were mad, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe — just maybe — he wasn’t wrong.

The circle of friends was loud — someone passed around a bag of chips, someone else was retelling a story that probably wasn’t as funny as everyone made it. Laughter echoed through the group, but your smile was forced. You sat close to Jae, his arm casually slung over your shoulder like it was some kind of ownership tag.

You tried not to roll your eyes at his touch, but it felt heavier than usual. He leaned in, whispered something into your ear — probably a bad joke or some half-assed compliment — and laughed like he was so charming.

Across the group, you caught Riki watching.

He sat slouched in a chair, legs stretched out, rings glinting under the string lights. His expression was unreadable — the perfect mask of disinterest — but his eyes told another story.

You could feel the way they trailed over Jake’s arm around your shoulders, the way they narrowed ever so slightly when Jake brushed a thumb along your collarbone. Riki wasn’t saying a word, but he didn’t have to.

His stare said everything.

You tried not to look at him too long, but it was magnetic. You glanced back, just for a second, and met his eyes.

Big mistake.

His gaze locked onto yours, sharp. His jaw clenched, his tongue poked the inside of his cheek in that cocky, irritated way he always did when he was holding something back. A smirk ghosted across his face — bitter, amused.

Jae didn’t notice a thing. He just leaned closer, voice louder now, trying to dominate the conversation. '' You cold, babe?'' he asked, loud enough for the others to hear. '' You’re kinda tense.''

You laughed lightly, brushing him off. '' I’m fine.''

But Riki was still watching.

His fingers drummed against his knee, his eyes not moving once from the two of you. Then he spoke — finally.

'' You're pretty good at pretending'' he said, low and smooth, like a threat carefully prepared.

Everyone paused. The conversation hiccupped. A few heads turned. Someone chuckled awkwardly, thinking he was just being edgy. But you knew better.

Your eyes snapped to him.

''What’s that supposed to mean?'' you asked, tone sharper than you meant it to be.

He just raised a brow and tilted his head. '' Nothing. Just an observation. Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.''

Jae scoffed. ''You good, bro? Sounding a little bitter.''

Riki grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ''Nah, just bored.''

And with that, he leaned back and looked away — but not before shooting you one last glance. The kind that made your stomach twist. The kind that said: You know I’m right.

You looked down at Jae's hand still on you and suddenly, it felt even heavier.

The metro was packed, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, heat and noise filling every inch of space — except the one between you and Riki.

He stood inches from you, one hand gripping the rail above your head, eyes locked on yours like the chaos around you didn’t exist. No smirk this time. No teasing.

Just that look.

Heavy. Quiet. Intense.

Your breath caught as the train jolted, bringing you even closer. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just kept watching like he was trying to read your thoughts — or bury his own.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

Neither of you said a word.

Didn’t need to. His eyes were loud enough.

And when the train screeched into the next stop, he still didn’t look away — not until the doors opened, and you both pretended nothing happened.

But it did.

God, it did.

The school rooftop was your only escape.

Hardly anyone ever came here, afterall, it was a old forgotten place. You’d started sneaking up there between classes just to breathe.

The rooftop was your escape - until today.

You pushed open the heavy door and froze.

Riki was already there, leaned against the low concrete wall, cigarette dangling from his fingers, smoke curling lazily in the breeze. His eyes flicked up at the sound of the door creaking, and for once, he didn’t have that stupid smirk on his pretty face.

''Seriously?'' you muttered. ''You’ve got the whole damn school to haunt. Why here?''

He shrugged, taking a slow drag. ''Didn’t realize you had it reserved.''

You walked to the far side, trying to ignore his stare — the way it always dug under your skin. But today, you snapped.

''You've got some nerve, you know that?'' you said sharply, turning on him. ''You follow me around like some smug parasite, making those cryptic comments, for what? To make me miserable?

He blinked slowly. ''If I’m making your life worse, you’re doing a pretty damn good job of sticking around for it.''

Your fists clenched. ''You’re unbelievable.''

He scoffed, flicking the cigarette. ''Why? Because I don’t lie to you? Because I don’t play sweet like your golden boy boyfriend?''

You stepped toward him, fury bubbling up from your chest. ''Don’t talk about Jae.''

''I’ll talk about whoever the hell I want,” Riki shot back. “Especially the guy who treats you like garbage and gets away with it because you’re too scared to leave.''

That hit hard. Too hard.

''You don’t know anything about me,'' you hissed, your voice shaking.

''I know enough,'' he said, stepping forward. ''I know you act like none of this bothers you. I know you date losers because it’s easier than admitting you don’t know what you want. And I know you look at me like you hate me — but you haven’t stopped looking away, have you?''

Your breath caught.

''You’re such an self absorbed asshole','' you whispered. ''You say all this crap like you know me, like you’re better than him. But you’re not. You’re just meaner. Colder. At least he pretends to care.''

That did something. His jaw tightened.

He stepped even closer, now barely inches away, his voice low and sharp. ''You think I don’t care?'' he spat. ''You think this is easy for me? Watching you run back to him every time he screws up? Watching you let him walk all over you when-''

''When what, Riki?'' you challenged, heart pounding. ''What, you’d treat me better? Between all your insults and dirty looks, where exactly was the part where I was supposed to feel wanted?''

Silence.

The wind whipped around you, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Then he muttered, almost too quietly, ''I never wanted to want you.''

Silence. Your heart dropped. This wasn't a joke?

''I push you away,'' he said quietly, ''because if I didn’t, I’d be too close.''

You swallowed, hard. For a second, neither of you spoke. And then—

''Don’t,'' you said, voice barely above a whisper. ''Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.''

Riki stepped back like the moment had burned him, but he didn’t take it back.

He looked at you like he did.

And for once, didn’t hide it.

Your phone buzzed twice, then again. The third time, you finally checked it.

Jae. Another girl. His hands all over her, lips tangled, right there in the corner of some dim party room.

Reactions flooded in - shock, laughing emojis, ''omg''s, and ''yo wtf''s - but you just stared at the screen, thumb frozen over your phone. Your stomach twisted, but not out of surprise.

You were used to this part. The disappointment. The quiet, dull ache that never really left.

No message from him. No explanation. Not that you were expecting one. You’d been waiting - waiting for him to end it, to at least have the decency to say it to your face. But maybe this was it.

You sighed, slow and tired, and threw your phone across the room.

Grabbing your jacket, you pulled it over your shoulders. It hung heavy. Your legs were bare under your skirt, and the cold air bit at your skin the second you stepped outside. You didn’t care. The numbness was louder than the wind.

The sky was dark, thick with clouds. A silence hung in the empty streets, broken only by the crunch of gravel under your shoes.

Then you heard it — a low, familiar rumble cutting through the stillness. A motorcycle.

You paused, looking up just as it came closer, headlights flashing briefly in your direction. The bike slowed, coming to a stop a few feet away. The rider pulled off his helmet, and there he was.

Riki.

Hair messy from the helmet, brows pulled together in something dangerously close to concern.

His eyes scanned you — the jacket thrown hastily over your outfit, the bare legs, the way you weren’t even pretending to be okay.

''You shouldn’t be out here like this,'' he said, voice low but cutting through the quiet.

You didn’t respond right away. Just tucked your arms tighter around yourself, eyes fixed on some point over his shoulder.

''Guess Jae finally did me a favor,'' you muttered.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t need to. Whatever had happened, he’d clearly already heard.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stood there, one hand still on the bike, the other flexing by his side like he didn’t know what to do with it.

Then, softer, ''You want a ride?''

You looked at him.

The part of you that would usually roll your eyes or spit something defensive was quiet now. You were too tired to fight. Too cold to pretend.

So you nodded.

And for the first time that night, you felt a little less alone.

Jae hadn’t even read your text.

We’re over. Sent at 11:42 p.m. last night

And yet there he was again the next day, strutting down the corridor as if you had done something wrong, gaze intense, jaw tight and fists clenched.

You’d been laughing at something one of your friends said, just a passing joke — harmless, light. But Jae didn’t see that. Or didn’t want to.

''What the hell is this?'' he snapped, voice sharp and too loud, drawing a few glances from nearby students.

You turned slowly, spine straightening. ''What are you talking about?''

''You’re out here, all over other guys, are you cheating on me?'' he accused.

You wanted to laugh, bitter and sad. But you didn’t.

''Cheating?'' you repeated, raising an eyebrow. ''Jae, you cheated on me. I saw the picture. The picture that got sent around.''

His face went pale for a moment before turning bright red with rage.

''That’s not the same thing,'' he hissed, fists clenching. ''You think I care about some stupid—''

''You care about it now, don’t you?'' you shot back, voice rising. ''You don’t even know how to break up with someone, so you just-'

Your words were cut short as he shoved your arm aside, stepping into your space, furious. His hand was raised, the tension in the air thick and crackling with something dark.

Before you could even react, someone moved fast from the side. Riki.

He appeared in a swift motion, stepping between you and Jae with a sharpness that cut through the tension.

He stood there, tall and confident, his posture straight, his eyes dark but calm, locking with Jae’s. ''You better lower your hand,''

Jae blinked, caught off guard, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to step in. ''What are you doing, Riki?'' he snarled.

Riki didn’t flinch. ''What the hell do you think you’re doing?'' he replied, voice low but heavy with something dangerous. ''Because this? This is crossing a line.''

You thought it was over.

Jae had stormed off after Riki stepped in, and you’d figured that’d be the end of it.

But oh boy were you wrong.

A few days later, you found yourself sitting in the school nurse's office, frowning down at Riki’s face.

''Seriously, Riki?'' you said, irritation rising as you grabbed a cotton ball and dabbed it into disinfectant. ''You couldn’t just walk away, could you?''

He winced when you dabbed the cotton over the cut lip. "I'm fine," he growled, trying to be cool like it was nothing, but you caught the way his jaw tightened, the minute tension on his shoulders giving him away.

''No, you’re not fine,'' you shot back, carefully applying bandages. ''You got yourself hurt because you couldn’t let him walk away with it. What were you trying to prove?''

Riki just smiled weakly, but it never quite made it to his eyes. "Maybe I was proving something to you.".

''You’re lucky I’m not slapping you,'' you grumbled, trying to hold back the anger that kept creeping in. ''You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you just walk away from Jae?''

He didn’t answer at first, his eyes locked on your hands as you worked. Then, quietly, he said, ''Because you’re worth it.''

You stood there, frozen, the words cutting you harder than they had any right to. You glared at him, but he didn't look at you. Instead, his eyes were fixed over your shoulder, face expressionless.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper now. "Why do you say things like that if you don't mean them?''

"I never said I didn't mean them," he replied, his eyes locking on you then, his eyes darkening from earlier. There was something there, something unspoken between the two of you.

You didn’t know what to say. The moment hung thick in the air, the tension palpable.

''Alright, you’re done,'' you muttered, pulling away. You grabbed a bandage and wrapped it around his arm, trying to keep your hands steady. ''Don’t get yourself into more trouble.''

Riki just nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was a slight curve to his lips that almost looked like a smile. ''You always say that, but I think you’re the one who’s gonna get into trouble if you keep hanging around me.''

You didn’t answer. Instead, you finished bandaging him up and turned to leave, but then you stopped and glanced over your shoulder.

''You still owe me an explanation,'' you said, voice quieter now.

He raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. ''Maybe. But some things are better left unsaid.''

With that, he stood up, and for the first time in days, you weren’t sure where either of you stood.

The silence between you was thick, but it didn’t feel as awkward as it should. Maybe it never had.

It was late.

Most of the school was dark, except for the faint buzz of lights in the empty classroom — the one you found him in.

Riki sat on the windowsill, notebook balanced on his knee. His hood was down for once, hair messy, head tilted like he didn’t hear you come in.

You hesitated at the doorway.

“You break in?” you asked softly, lips twitching.

He didn’t look up. “Didn’t need to. Left the window open last time.”

You stepped inside, slow and quiet, watching the way his pencil moved across the page — steady, focused, way more careful than anyone would guess. “What are you even writing?”

Riki finally looked over, gaze catching yours, lingering a second too long. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed the room until you were beside him, peeking at the notebook. “Let me see.”

He shifted it just slightly away from your view. “Nope.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Afraid I’ll see all the little hearts with my name in them?”

That actually got a small laugh out of him. “You wish.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable in a way it hadn’t always been. You leaned against the window next to him, arms crossed, your shoulder brushing his. Neither of you moved.

After a minute, you said, quieter, “You know... prom’s coming.”

Riki glanced at you. “So I’ve heard.”

“You thinking of going?”

He paused, then shrugged. “Only if there’s a reason to.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering with something you didn’t want to name yet. “What if there was?”

He looked at you again, eyes darker now — focused. “Are you trying to ask me something, or just over the edge?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “...Maybe both.”

He smiled — just barely — and looked away, back out the window like he needed a second to cool off whatever just passed between you.

You didn’t say anything else. Neither did he. You just stayed there, shoulder to shoulder, both pretending you weren’t waiting for the other to make a move.

And you didn’t know it then, but that was the moment you’d end up thinking about when you finally gave him those tickets.

The moment when almost was already everything.

Prom was coming up.

Every hallway was plastered with glittery posters and cheesy hashtags. People were buzzing with dates and dresses and afterparty plans. You’d told yourself you didn’t care — that it was overrated, dramatic, not your thing.

But then there was Riki.

And the fact that despite all the tension, all the biting comments and late-night moments that felt way too close, he hadn’t asked anyone. He hadn’t even mentioned it.

So when you saw him leaning against his usual spot by the back stairwell, headphones around his neck, hood half-up like he was trying not to exist — you decided.

You walked up, heart thudding stupidly hard, something clutched behind your back.

He looked up at you with that lazy gaze, one brow quirking. “What?”

You cleared your throat. “I, um… I got something.”

Riki blinked, a little amused already. “For me?”

You pulled your hand around and held it out — two folded pieces of paper. “Concert tickets.”

He looked down at them, then back at you, waiting.

“They’re for a night before prom,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I figured, it'd be weird to not have dates, so we could use these as an opportunity to get closer and not be so awkward togehter at prom - because like mabye we could go as a pair?”

Something flickered in his expression — surprise, interest, maybe even something softer.

You hurried to add, “I mean, unless you were planning to not go. Or already have a date. Or—”

“Are you asking me out?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing with a half-smile.

You faltered. “I—what? No. I mean yes. Kinda. Not like that, just—”

He stepped closer, just a bit, enough that you could see the amusement tugging at his lips. “You could’ve just said you wanted to go with me. You didn’t have to bribe me with front-row tickets.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m trying to be nice here, you absolute jerk.”

Riki laughed — a real one, low and warm. Then he took the tickets from your hand, carefully, like they were something rare.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

You blinked. “Just like that?”

He shrugged. “You’ve been making moves on me for weeks. I was wondering how long it’d take you to admit it.”

Your jaw dropped. “I have not—”

“You literally patched me up in the nurse’s office like a rom-com lead,” he teased, tucking the tickets into his back pocket. “It was very touching.”

You shoved his shoulder, cheeks burning. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “No, you don’t.”

And as he turned to walk beside you, hands in his pockets, you kind of hated that he was right.

It happened weeks after prom.

You were both sitting on the bench after yet another date. Heart lighter than it'd had been in weeks. The streetlamps cast a soft glow on Riki’s face as he leaned back on his palms, gaze tilted up toward the sky.

It was quiet. Calm. The kind of peace that usually didn’t last long with him.

Then he spoke.

“So,” he said, almost too casually. “Are you gonna keep pretending this isn’t a thing? Or are you finally gonna let me call you my girl?”

You turned to look at him, heartbeat stumbling in that annoying way it did whenever he got serious. “You’re asking me out?”

“I’m saying,” he drawled, “officially, that I want this. You. No games, no half-truths. Just us. If you want it, too.”

You stared at him, trying not to smile too hard, trying not to let him see how much that meant — how much he meant.

“Okay,” you said softly. “On one condition.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Condition?”

You nodded. “You stop smoking.”

That actually made him pause.

Then he laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “You know,” he said, “that day on the rooftop? The cigarette?” He glanced over at you, smirking a little. “It was fake.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Dead serious. I wasn’t even smoking. It wasn’t lit. I just... thought it looked cool.” He shrugged, clearly a little embarrassed now. “I was trying to seem badass. Impress you or something.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

He held up a hand. “Swear on my life. It was literally just for show. Didn’t even inhale. I nearly choked.”

You burst out laughing, the image too perfect — Riki, fake-smoking to get your attention, acting like he didn’t care when he clearly did.

“Alright,” you said, still smiling. “Then yeah. I’ll be your girl.”

He leaned in, face close, grin tugging at his lips. “Finally pretty.”

And when he kissed you — soft, careful, like he was making a promise — you believed him.

Because

Riki had proved he wasn't like Jae or any other guy.

He was willing to change. To let go of that stupid image.

For you, his Y/N.