Youtuber Au; When Your Fans Ship You Together — Part One

LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME — NISHIMURA RIKI

SYNOPSIS — NISHIMURA RIKI’S GIRLFRIEND IS A WELL-KNOWN YOUTUBER. UNFORTUNATELY, HIS FRIENDS, HIS COMPANY, AND HIS FANS BELIEVE THAT HE’S JUST A DELUSIONAL FAN OF HERS.

PAIRING — IDOL!NI-KI X YOUTUBER!READER STARRING — NI-KI, READER, ENHYPEN, IVE’S WONYOUNG, LESSERAFIM’S CHAEWON, AESPA’S KARINA, NEWJEANS’ HAERIN WITH GUEST STARS ZB1’S RICKY, TXT’S BEOMGYU WARNINGS/NOTES (tba) — 100% CRACK, TEAM EDWARD GC ARE NOT IDOLS RELEASE DATE — 18TH JULY

PROFILES — 4LIFERZ | TEAM EDWARD

CHAPTERS — 1: TODAY’S SELFIE 2: SO SWEET 3: EVERYTHING WILL COME TRUE 4: MWAH! 5: WE'RE SO LUCKY 5: GOLDEN TICKET 7: HASHTAG LUCKY GIRL EPILOGUE: TOGETHER, YOU AND ME

TAGLIST — OPEN @sunpov @lukesboo @lambys-stuff @rikisgeef @hiekoo @sol3chu @sakiimeo @joyzluvr @femmefqtqle @1lovestrawberrymilk @jakeyverse @xeee334 @erisasleep @kyanmeai @sunooluuvr @dreeki @laurradoesloveu @kittsnewera @illvding @d-dilemma @unhakki @greentulip @clampclover @yourmyst4r @randomanothercreature @mheretoreadff @winabite

PAIRING ▸ Nishimura Riki x fem!reader

SUMMARY ▸"Am I dating Y/N L/N? No thanks, I'd rather choke." Or in which you're clearly using some sort of spell to entice Riki, because why on earth would he suddenly start feeling this way about you?

GENRE ▸one-sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, she fell first but he fell harder, angst (lots of it), slow-ish burn.

WARNINGS ▸ swearing, featuring Eunchae from LeSserafim as your best friend and some additional cameos by other idols, some of dickish behaviour from Riki at the start :(, kissing, mentions of curses, occults knowledge, spells and witchcraft.

WC ▸ 7.1K

A/N ▸ Thank you for the immense support for this on the teaser!! I hope this lives up to your expectations, and I hope you guys enjoy the rest of my work as well :)

PLAYLIST ▸ Voodoo Doll by 5 Seconds of Summer, Kiss Me Kiss Me by 5 Seconds of Summer, Brought the Heat Back by Enhypen, Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction

The air is a sweet smelling summer type, the day you first meet Nishimura Riki. He's a scrawny little thing of twig arms and downcast, shy eyes. Having moved to Korea from Japan only barely a month back, the number of words he can say in this newfound land in the foreign language can be counted on one hand. And this poses a problem to him right now, considering how his older sister had already gone off on her own despite their mother's strict orders to stay together at all times. You spot the boy, a sprightly little thing yourself, and the first thing you notice is his eyes. The most gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes. They looked like the black beetles you saw in the spring - lazing on the dark brown tree trunks, absolutely fascinating and captivating.

Nishimura Riki is six years old and scared. He's at a playground with kids his age, but he feels like an alien in his own skin. They're all either playing in groups or duos - but no dice for singles. It's times like this that makes him want to clutch on to the fabric of his mother's dress and be whisked away to safety. A place where he doesn't feel so out of place. His soft, trembling body stills in a bit of surprise as a gentle tap knocks on his shoulder, ever so slightly. Turning around fearful of being picked on, he only comes face to face with a girl. You're looking straight at him with owlish, unblinking eyes that make Riki shiver in your gaze - feeling smaller and smaller than before. He doesn't like how you're looking at him, not in the slightest. "Hi there! I'm Y/N L/N. Are you new here?" You're quite articulate for a kid, he thinks, as if he's not one himself. He's barely managed to string together the meaning of what you said through his broken understanding of the language, but it's the general environment about you that makes him hesitate. His lack of a response doesn't deter you apparently, as suddenly you're latching on to his wrist, trying to pull him to the sand pit, babbling on and on about being his new friend and offering to show him around town. He doesn't know how to get out of your vice-like grip, but he doesn't mind your company either. But it's just all too much. There's too many things going on around him, and you're too loud.

Suddenly, he's wrenching his hand out of yours, a scowl on his youthful features. It's a frown directed right at you like a bullet, but it leaves you unscathed. You still look at him with a complete look of innocence, completely boring into his own eyes. There's something about the way you look at him, and he hates it. He notices the way you hold no precise expression on your face, only a peaceful and serene look coupled with the way one would gaze when they felt curious and fascinated. He decides at that moment, with all the iron resolve of a six year old boy, that he hated this girl. He hated you and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. But this was in no way similar to the way you were feeling currently. With the way that inky void in his eyes were pulling you in like a siren song, you decided that you loved Nishimura Riki. 

11 years later

"Riki! Riki!". Your chants are loud even amongst the bustling crowd of attendees, all mingling about on the bleachers, eyes trained on the orange basketball as the squeaking sound of shoes against the polished wooden floor accentuated the tension of this cut-throat game. Jersey number 9, tallest on the team and jet black hair that had everyone reeling in his subtle aura, Riki's eyes are piercing as his focus solely stays on two things - the first being how to get past the rival team's defense, and the second being how annoying your cheering was to him.

Their opposing team is not letting them cut through this bottle neck tie easily, and the red timer with its robotic, digital numbers clocking down to the game's end was not really helping either. It was right now, or never. And Riki never let a game get to the tie-breaker, ever. He's quick and sharp witted, and he's got the athletic skill to get past the crowding defense team, and with a crisp swish of the white net hanging on the post, the ball is swiftly sent through the basket. The whistle is loud, but the rest of his teammates are louder, wasting no time in running on the court to aggressively another their prodigal player in affection and sweat, with Riki glaring away at them in faux irritation, but clearly preening in their pride. This was an important game after all, because it would be the game that would help team captain, Lee Heesung, who was graduating this spring, to choose the next in line to his legacy. And anyone with two eyes, who wasn't even on the team could easily say it belonged to Riki.

Your voice is back, louder again this time, and it has Riki grimacing amongst the celebrations, and Sunoo and Taki, his friends who had descended from the stands themselves, gave each other a knowing look of what was about to occur.

You're singing praises and it has him glowing, regardless of the frown marrying his sharp features. "God, that was so cool! You're so, so tall, it must have been an advantage for sure, but wow I mean that basket? Crazy!"

He's still glaring at you and his teammates have wry smiles on their faces. Your praises quieten down when you, and Riki, notice Lee Heesung walking over to Riki with a championing grin that only means one thing. Ushering Riki away, you just gazed at him at raw adoration as the boy's face lit up with the news Heesung was breaking him.

"By the way dude, are you dating that girl there? Y/N L/N?"

The question has him coughing slightly from the water he was chugging down. Sunoo and Taki are cackling violently at his expression, like Heesung had performed the most blasphemous act in front of him. "Heesung, what the hell dude. I'm not dating her, at all. I'll only date Y/N when pigs start flying."

He looks back to where you stood before, now gone from that spot. You always waited a bit before you left, usually, trying to catch him and make conversation with him, so this was new. A different kind of feeling he wasn't sure he was used to. It was strange, how he felt a bit different from the absence of you.

"Look, oh my god!" Taki cries out, pointing vaguely at the air. "What?" "I just saw a pig fly." “Shut the fuck up man.”

You were a curse sent from hell to torment him, that much was sure. He wasn’t sure what penance he was due to pay in this life for his previous actions that caused you to appear in his life, considering how since that moment on the playground, you’ve done nothing to actually make his life any better. And while he was explaining this very situation to Heesung, who was now sporting an amused grin at the way the normally nonchalant Riki’s mouth seemed to fly a mile a minute, Sunoo interrupted with a gasp at a particularly harsh tease. “She isn’t even doing anything bad you prick! I’d kill to have someone crush on me that long!” “Oh you can have her then, Sun. I do not want to see her in my life ever again once we’re out of here.” He huffs.

The various examples of the ways you’d managed to make things bad for him seemed to resurface to his mind almost immediately, souring his mood. Like when in middle school, when he bagged the hottest girl of their grade, Choi Ri-ah, to go out with him. It was magical to Riki, that eighth grade relationship - mainly because him being in it meant having you off his back. Your displeasure with his newfound relationship status was not a secret either, no your distaste was very clear, with the way you’d frown when they would walk in the hallways together holding hands, which in eighth grade, was a very big deal. It didn’t help that Ri-ah was also your quote unquote, sworn enemy. The two of you had hated each other's guts since almost preschool, and the sickening punch in the gut was how she’d managed to be with the only guy you’d ever loved. But Riki didn’t know any of that. And frankly, he didn’t care much about his and Ri-ah’s conversations or dates, where he would nod along as she talked his ears off about getting new earrings or the summer holiday her father was planning, where she was going to get the most outrageous tan. Sure, he liked her. But he liked not hearing your voice constantly bugging him more. 

“Dude she didn’t end your relationship with Ri-ah! Ri-ah was already going after another guy from that prep school, she just needed an excuse to end the relationship and made Y/N the scapegoat.” Taki told him exasperatedly, which just fell on deaf ears, because Riki was still convinced that you were the reason for the demise of his juvenile dating plan. Ri-ah had broken up with him seemingly out of the blue, over text, claiming that she felt uncomfortable dating a boy who was so coveted by another girl. And when fourteen year old Riki read that heartbreaking message curled up in his duvet at 10PM on a Tuesday, he just felt a bitter pill of hatred for you. Nothing had changed in the six years since that fateful meeting at the playground, no. You still made Riki shudder.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

“He’s absolutely phenomenal.” You breathe out in a sigh, full of awe as you watch Riki skirt across the court with lightning speed. The dreamy looks and the lovestruck sounds was like routine to Eunchae, who had honestly even given up on rolling her eyes at you, because with the way she’d spent the last 10 years doing the same, she was afraid her eyes would get stuck at the back of the skull due to routine. It was truly a wonder how you hadn’t given up immediately after the first few tries - when he was extremely stubborn in denouncing the “Y/N’s boyfriend” title he’d earned. But you had your justification ready to go - that he never outright rejected you. Sure, he politely declined some invitations, but never a word against your feelings as such. It still raised the question, as to how you could chase a guy around this long. Because to you, the reason was quite fundamental - his eyes were still beautiful, and most importantly, they held no hate. Not an ounce of it, no matter how hard he tried to emulate it, which gave you hope. 

Unfortunately hope was a wonderful thing for sure, but also dangerous. It was quite the cycle you’d found yourself stuck in, and you weren’t honestly sure how long you could afford to linger as nothing but a mandatory footnote to him. It was eating away at you. But hope, hope made you hold on. Only Eunchae knew about the firm decision you’d taken last night. After all, she was your closest friend. And she even held you, as you solemnly promised to yourself, on the eve of the 11th anniversary of the day you first met Riki, to leave him behind forever, if there wasn’t any improvement in his behavior, or general perception of you. It was shocking, and honestly a huge decision. But firm in its promise, that last hook of hope would be gone soon by tomorrow.  “You know he ignored you again, right?” Eunchae points out for the nth time, and like always that doesn’t deter you, as you gaze lovingly upon where the soon-to-be former captain Heesung was talking to Riki about leading the team, a position quite coveted which you were very proud of Riki for acquiring. The pride that swelled in your heart was immense, but the cold words you heard Riki utter were like a small pin-prick on your heart. He was tense from the game, and let’s be honest, you’d always managed to survive the weight of his brash words. But why did this one hurt so much? Were you reaching your breaking point, finally? No wonder you’d tipped and already decided to get over him last night. Snapping yourself out of these negative emotions, you decided to busy yourself a bit away from the bleachers and Heesung and Riki, focusing on Eunchae as she tried to decide where to grab a snack before you both went off to your own houses. 

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

The sound of his voice has always been melodious to you. It had a deep timbre and was almost soothing. But right now, you felt anything far from soothed. Your throat was closing up into a lump, and you huffed slightly as you blinked away tears. Eunchae’s eyes were blown wide in shock, and were slowly beginning to narrow in anger. Your movements were almost automatic as your hand reached out to stop Eunchae from storming out from your hiding spots’, the fuming girl looking like she was ready to punch Nishimura across the face immediately. The tears were burning into your lower lash line like furious embarrassment, making you more and more smaller, wishing now more than ever that the ground swallowed you whole. You kept telling yourself over and over again, that this wasn’t the first time you’d heard words of this type uttered against you by him. But it was like a disenchanting spell on you, the way a veil lifted off your eyes. A crack in the rose tinted looking-glass you always stared at him through. 

“Y/N”, Eunchae’s voice is a careful whisper, sensing your vulnerability as your best friend. She knew you long enough to tell that those extremely cruel, mean words did more than just a regular rebound on your thick skin. She was cooling down in an attempt to comfort you, rubbing your arm in support. Your lower lip was wobbling, and you felt like someone had slapped you hard across the cheek. You weren’t that annoying to put up with, were you?

Your heart felt stomped on at that point, and you wanted nothing more than to get away. As shocking as it was, you couldn’t stomach being around Riki right now, and hastily grabbing Eunchae and making a beeline towards the exit, your downtrodden expression morphed to anger as your shoulder harshly bumped against Riki’s, who’s expression you couldn’t tell with the way you could only see red. Your decision was ironclad now, if it wasn’t firm already. This was the moment you’d decided to get over Nishimura Riki. 

The touch of your shoulder against his was like a static current being passed through his skin, in the most pleasant way possible. Like he craved it. Riki was baffled, and even more so when he realized it was you, and your usually ever-present adoration from him being blatantly missing, even in this short interaction, if it even be called that. He felt a twinge of concern for you, which he suppressed easily. This was the Y/N he was talking about. Any emotion for you rather than disgust? No thank you!

However, it was strange. For the first time in your life, you felt almost nothing for Nishimura Riki. And for the first time in his life, he felt something for you. 

It’s been a week since the fateful basketball game. You’ve been through the stages of grief quite quickly, storming through each of them with Eunchae helping you along, although your headstrong need to get better did worry her, that you weren’t actually processing your pain to heal. But to hell with all that. No, you wanted to eviscerate any remaining thought of Riki from your head immediately. The school day seems to be quite regular, with spring break just a mere two weeks away, that had people buzzing with low energy in the hallways, all in the state of deciding their spring break plans. Your spring break plans weren’t anything fancy, or anything at all rather - with the main idea being that you’d while away the time with your best friend, doing all the fun activities you could possibly do. And a break that you were sure would be the final nail in the coffin that contained the corpse of your feelings for Riki, the dark haired boy who up till now kept an iron grip on your heart.

The boy in question, like you, had also spent the previous week raging through some emotions. But in his case, rather he found them very confusing and very out of character. Of course, he wasn’t self actualised enough to work through them, and that led him to create a stubborn mindspace - that you, Y/N L/N were messing with his head by purposely ignoring him. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your presence and the recent lack of. Your voice wasn’t greeting him in the homeroom every morning anymore, and it was a change many had noticed, but not yet commented on. He found this pit in his stomach from the first week, the immediate day after the match, when he saw you sitting in class - head bent, hair falling over your face messily. And for a fleeting second, his hand had to fight off the urge to get up and brush them away. Your eyes looked slightly swollen, with a faint bloodshot look, like you’d spent the night crying rather than sleeping. It made his chest ache and his head spin slightly. What the hell? When the hell did he feel sorry for Y/N L/N? When the hell did he feel anything for Y/N L/N?

That was about three days ago, and that same pit in his stomach has been growing ever since. He, for whatever reason, missed you. Instead of coming face to face with this fact, he turned his back on it, and it was killing him. Pinpricks of pain would shoot through him whenever he noticed you deliberately changing your path on noticing him walk towards your way. God, it’s like he was a hostage to your feelings all these years, and automatically he felt guilty of thinking about you that way. You just liked him right? Why was he even so rude to you?

His behavior, and his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by all of his friends, even the basketball team, who were more than aware of your absence at practice anymore. Whatever you were doing to remove Riki from your life might be working in your favor, but it was ruining him. 

His brain felt like someone was swirling its contents around with a spatula, making a mess of his thoughts and his emotions. He hadn’t wasted a moment in spilling his dilemma to Sunoo, and invariably the guys he was closest to on the basketball team - Jake, Sunghoon, Jay and Heesung. The team itself were all in all pretty much aware of how the youngest was going through quite the mind-boggling series of epiphanies (if it could even be called that. Jay liked to refer to it as just a dumbass waking up from his stupidity sleep). 

“Dude, I just don’t know anymore. Her not being there is very odd to me? I just can’t get used to it.” Riki sighs, shaking his head as he thumbs around his packet of Cheetos, slumping against the cafeteria wall, while the rest of his group gathered around him like a pack, eagerly listening in. “But isn’t that what you wanted? So there must be something else then? Maybe you didn’t mind her as much as you let on?” Jake inquired, his head tilting like a confused puppy. That had Riki scratching his head again. He saw you this morning by your locker. You were catching up with Eunchae, both of you laughing boldly to whatever Eunchae had just said, and there was a glow on your face as your eyes crinkled in amusement, which made a heartbeat skip in his chest. He was staring longingly at you, and it seemed like you noticed, because your eyes met his in scrutiny - your single glance making him feel like that six year old at the playground again. 

When you were in freshman year, you had developed a fascination with reading horror novels and mangas and watching horror movies very frequently. Something about spirits and the occult had interested you very much, and many people around you knew about this hobby of yours. If anyone had any doubts about the intricacies of rituals and possessions, spells and witchcraft, they’d just go to you. Right now, Riki thinks that’s exactly what’s happening to him - you’d used your occult knowledge to put a spell on him. Of course, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. But he felt like he was bound to you, and couldn’t shake off your spell no matter how much he tried. And it was purely on him. This was just all so,so confusing, which he decided not to voice out to his friends until he himself had gotten a grip on what was happening to him. How he kept thinking about your little habits. Day before yesterday, he found himself soaked in sweat and thirsty beyond comparison after practice. Parched and defeated, he stumbled along to the locker room to find his flavored water that one of his teammates usually kept in his locker for him, only to come up empty handed. 

“Jake, have you seen my flavored water? I figured you usually put one in my locker.” He asked nonchalantly, only to find Jake, and the rest of the team that entered the room in a state of sly smiles, stifled giggles and shock. 

“Dude, we never did any of that. Y/N did that, she’d purchase the fancy water for you and put it in your locker before we came for practice.” 

It made him feel different. He was blinking slow, and his brain was sluggish. You did that for him? God, you were so sweet, weren’t you. He already felt a bit sad about not seeing your bright grin that you directed to him in the morning (even though he always dismissed it with ignorance), but this was the cherry on top. You had loved him to death, and now he was a dead man walking without you. 

“He looked at you, you know.” Eunchae is careful in her observation, but she knows you noticed too. Your pupils seem narrowed, and your lips are drawn in a tight line as you contemplate that look he gave you. You still couldn’t fight off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you met his eyes - those gorgeous, beetle-black eyes that had a magnetic pull to them. But within the haze of your flusteredness, you’d managed to catch the slight look of misery in them. He was looking at you like he was an injured puppy, lost without you. But your resolve was stronger. With the utmost focus, you managed to drive away the maddening thoughts of the possibility of him missing you away, and walked away with Eunchae. 

Over the weekend, Riki had realized that being away from you was driving him insane. So on Monday, he was pulling his chair close to yours in the classroom, the metallic screech against the wooden flooring making everyone turn their heads to the scene, their eyes widening in shock at what was unfolding in front of their eyes. How on Earth was Nishimura Riki sitting next to Y/N L/N? Your thoughts were also very similar to the rest of your classmates, because what was happening right now? Riki, the boy you’d put your heart dangerously on the line for was right here, sitting next to you. His movements were awkward and he was fiddling with his fingers while casting shy glances towards you, reminding you of the scared six year old version of him you’d met at the playground. There is a faint red crawling up his pale ears, and he clears his throat roughly, before saying “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Your all consuming feelings seemed to come back like a crashing wave on the shore the moment he uttered those words to you, and you just nodded wordlessly, too shocked to say anything. You look too pretty this morning, and it’s messing with his head. Riki’s beating himself up internally, because this wouldn’t be so difficult if you weren’t so goddamn beautiful for some reason. He nods when you do, and then gets to his work. His proximity feels dizzying to you, and the scent of his cologne makes it harder for you to focus on the work in front of you. He’s biting into his lip hard, to suppress the urge to just hold your hand. The smell of your shampoo, the warmth of your thigh being barely centimeters next to you. You’re both so horribly blind and it is just painful to you both, unbeknownst to each of you. 

Nishimura Riki liked you. He really, really liked you. And as he turned his head to see your face, accented by the golden sunlight and eyes sparkling like dewdrops in the early morning, he knew that even if he wanted to run, he couldn't. He was trapped under your spell, and the thought of it made him smile. 

The following days are filled with such odd interactions with Riki. He always found an excuse to find you first in classrooms, or walk you to the cafeteria. You suddenly found yourself back at basketball practices again, but this time forcefully dragged to the court by Riki, and an amused Eunchae in tow. He was there to offer you snacks and drinks from the vending machine. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. Whatever diabolical game he was playing was working wonders on you, because suddenly all you could see behind your closed eyes was his gorgeous face. 

The rest of the student body isn’t blind to his newfound affection for you. It’s all they’ve been talking about the entire time. His teammates slap his back in teasing jests while he shoos them all away, all the while that smile never leaving his face. 

“There’s no way!” You’re laughing hard, and yours and Riki’s shared giggles are quite audible over the soccer field. You’re both sitting on the grass just after practice, where Riki’s cooling off in the gentle breeze blowing across the grass. He’s telling you about some antics he had put up in class to get away from not turning in assignments, which involved a fake rubber rat and a very scared Calculus teacher. You’re wiping tears from your eyes from the laughter while Riki shakes his head in amusement. The breeze blows a single leaf to land right on top of your head, and it makes you giggle harder. 

He shuffles a bit closer to you, arm raising up to remove the leaf from your head. His breath is warm as it fans across your warming cheeks, the narrowed distance between you both not being lost on either of you. His eyes meet yours, and you’re still a goner for them. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in nervousness, yet he makes no attempt to move away. Instead, he feels a bold surge in him. His finger loops around the bow on your school uniform, tugging the ribbon and invariably, you, forward towards him, making the breath in your throat hitch, and your eyes becoming wide as saucers. His eyes dip to your cupid’s bow, and scan over your lips and how they’re parted. Riki spends not a second more pressing his lips to yours, and you’re in heaven. 

The walk back to your house is full of shy touches, and the warmth of your hand in his. Riki’s lips are still tingling where yours were just moments ago. He can’t even begin to fathom how he ended up here - from loathing you to wanting to kiss you again. He was addicted to you and wanted more of you. But these things needed to be paced, and Riki wanted it done right. Bidding you goodbye in front of your house, where you left him with another giggle-pressed kiss to his cheek and a warm buzz filling his body, he was absolutely enamored by Y/N L/N.

The next day, he wakes up and it’s a good day. It’s a good day because he’s going to ask you out finally. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, just because of the implausibility of the situation. There was a brightness surrounding the boy all throughout, a contrast to his regular attitude. Sunoo and Taki had been updated already, and he was planning to tell the team, the rest of his friends during practice, after which he would ask you on a date during your regular after-practice hangouts. Except for the life of him he couldn’t find you, at all. It was unfortunate that today was the day of the announcement of the student council election results, for which classes were mostly halted, since the student council was quite a big deal 

He’s scanning around to find you amongst the crowd of the assembly where the results were to be announced - only to spot you a bit later. Also, he notices that you’re not alone. You’re grinning (a bit too much for his liking, if he's being honest) at Yang Jungwon, the boy who was the sure-shot winner of the President position. You’re too close to him, and it makes his heart clench. He’s biting his tongue until it almost bleeds. He doesn’t get an opportunity to speak to you, as the event commences. He just decides to wait till later, ignoring the pain in his chest he got from seeing you with another guy. 

“The President of this year’s student council is Yang Jungwon.” There’s a smattering of loud applause, and even Riki joins in half-heartedly, still wounded over what he was previously. “The position of Vice President goes to his running mate, Y/N L/N!”. 

He’s still in his place, though his heart bursts with pride and joy for you, his eyes drinking in your excited run up to the stage, shaking hands with the Principal of the school. Your face is broken into the biggest smile ever, and your eyes are shining from pure happiness. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t he know you were going for it? Or that Jungwon was your running mate?”

But all in all he’s very, very happy and proud of you, so he squishes down that ugly feeling of jealousy in him, and focuses on how you somehow look directly right at him. Your smile drops a little when you notice he isn’t clapping, a fact Riki himself didn’t realize, too busy staring in awe at you. It takes Eunchae’s loud hollering in the crowd to break you out of your stupor and your return to your regular state. 

He’s changing out of his practice clothes, feeling a bit down from the events that actually happened today and how he’d expected it to go. He hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone with you after the ceremony, and four of the older members of the team were missing from practice today too, since Jay was the treasurer of the previous session, he had to oversee the handing over of the duties to the newer batch. Practice, because of that, ended up being him, and the benchwarmers and people he didn’t really know all that well. It was something he had to get used to as the new captain, so he figured this would serve as a good preview. He was talking to another benchwarmer of his grade, Junhee, while changing. Junhee wasn’t necessarily a good person, if Riki was honest. He always hung out with the rash crowd and got into fights because of his crass nature. He placed the small box of chocolates he’s managed to quickly buy for you from a store outside school, a sticky note with your name and a congratulation scrawled on it, down on the metallic bench as he gathered up the rest of his things. This doesn’t escape Junhee’s notice, who smirks lazily as he spots the name on the post-it. 

“No way, Nishimura. She did it, huh?”

Riki already doesn’t like the way he refers to you as just someone, and it sets his skin aflame. “Hmm?” he responds half-heartedly, not at all interested in maintaining a conversation with Junhee of all people. “Well, doesn’t it make sense, Nishimura? She’s into that horror shit right? Clearly she’s made a voodoo doll of you and forced you to love her. Manifestation shit, am I right?”

Riki’s blood is boiling as he hears what Junhee is saying, but for some reason he says nothing back. It’s like he’s trapped in this vortex in his mind fueled by the insecurity he felt from seeing you with Jungwon, or how he felt out of the loop about your co-curricular adventure. Staying mum, he just grabbed the chocolate box, and turned around, only to gasp in shock to see you standing right there. Your mouth is twisted downwards in disappointment, and you’re staring at him with absolute loathing in your eyes right now. He rushed forward towards you, ready to explain, and also wanting desperately to punch the snickering Junhee behind him, who was now slinking away from the scene. 

It feels like there is a knife in your back and twisting itself in your flesh all over again. There is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating you overwhelmingly. It’s jarring and mind-boggling. So before Riki gets to you, you run.

Eunchae is gathering you up in her arms as your inconsolable state renders you helpless, slumping on the floor of your bedroom, finding it harder to breathe as the sadness keeps washing over you in painful crashes, making you feel weaker and weaker as the time goes. 

“Why does he hate me, Eun? He kissed me, didn’t he? So why is he so cruel?”

The six boys in Riki’s room are trying their best with damage control, as they all had rushed over to his house when Riki had texted them in a panic and explained what had gone down. “But why didn’t you defend yourself in front of Junhee in the first place man?”, Taki asks frustratedly, tugging at his hair. Riki frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face while his chest aches. “I kept thinking about her and Jungwon. I treated her terribly before all this, didn’t I? I just kept thinking how she might like Jungwon now.” His eyes are downcast in sadness, and his voice is broken. Pulling up a chair right in front of Riki, Heesung plops down and holds Riki up by the shoulders, squaring him up. “Riki. Go. Go right now and apologize, before you lose her even more.” Riki is crying harder now, and wiping his tears, he breaks and finally tells them. “I don’t think I want to be without her, Heesung. I want her love, no matter if it drives me to my end.”

Riki sees how Eunchae slipped out of your house to walk towards the supermarket, no doubt to get you both some consolation food. He takes this moment to approach your front door, knocking furiously in nervousness and apprehension. It’s now or never. 

You open the door, assuming it’s Eunchae who left something behind before she left, so seeing Riki - messy hair, lips bitten to the extreme and bloodshot eyes standing on your front porch knocked the wind out of your lungs. Ready to slam the door on his face, his long hand stops you from doing so, pleading “Y/N please, please just listen to me. It wasn’t how it happened. I didn’t agree with Junhee at all. I like you, Y/N L/N, like it’s breathing. Being away from you makes me lose my mind, and I know I haven’t been the best to you in the past. But please, Y/N. I need you to give me a chance. I need you.”

There’s warm tears flowing down your face, and even in this state Riki thinks you’re beautiful. The porch light shines on your face and you look angelic. He hopes it showed in your mercy as well.

“Why didn’t you disagree?” you sniffle, sweater paws raising up to wipe away some of the tears on your face. The dejected tone with which you ask him makes him feel a deep tug in his heart, aching and sad. “I felt. Jealous. And angry, that Jungwon was so close to you, and that you hadn’t told me about being his running mate. And I know that doesn’t excuse my actions. I just felt, I don’t know. Out of the loop.”

“I wanted to surprise you with the vice president's news.” You mumbled, head down. Riki hesitantly moved toward you, and slowly patting your head, he said “I was surprised, baby, and so, so proud of you. I felt so proud of my girl up there.” He says hoarsely, hoping that his sincerity is as evident as much as he feels it. 

The breath gets knocked out as he groans through his mouth with the impact of your crushing hug. You have your face burrow into his chest, crying softly but also laughing slightly, wetting his shirt. He doesn’t spare a moment to wrap his arms around you tightly, fearing that letting go would mean that he’d lose you again. He sniffs in the soothing and familiar scent of your shampoo and mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what spell you’ve casted on me, Y/N L/N. But I want to be under it forever.”

The sunlight, Riki thinks, just manages to make you so beautiful that it makes Riki speechless every single time. A lot has changed since the playground and the years after that. And a lot more changed within the last year too. You and Riki are midway through your senior year now. He was sad when he had to bid farewell to the older members of the basketball team, who were practically like brothers to him now. You continued your duties as vice president, though the shared activities you had with Jungwon, still a sore spot for Riki, made him pout adorably, which you always kissed away with a laugh. Riki was the basketball captain now, which added new responsibilities to his shoulder, which he carried excellently. The evidence of which was the recent basketball game that he’d just won with the team. The pep rally, and most of the team was still loitering around the court (Junhee was out. It was one of the first things Riki did as captain, in fact). Riki had sneaked you out to that fateful soccer field where you both had first kissed, and a beautiful sense of deja vu hit him as he looked at you in wonder - how you’d managed to put up with all of him was still a mystery to the boy. But, when you looked to meet his eyes - those dazzling, black eyes that glittered under the setting sun, you both realized - you were both enchanted by each other.

BURY ME FACE DOWN — DAINSLEIF

✦ PREVIOUS ✧ QUEST MENU ✦ NEXT

★⋆. ࿐ PAIRING — Dainsleif x Princess!Reader

★⋆. ࿐ SUMMARY — In a land where the gods' gaze did not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming. Khaenri'ah, a nation who did not follow any archon but bowed to a king, was home to those who longed for a world without the weight of Celestia looming over their shoulders. But dreams end, and nightmares can take root— especially once their hidden corner is put under the microscope of the gods.

★⋆. ࿐ WARNINGS — Lore & theory based world building. Pre-Cataclysm Khaenri'ah. Readers visions are meant to be dysphoric & chaotic.

“The end of the Drekaöld’s is nigh, just as you predicted.”

You looked up from the book you had your nose buried in, facing your tutor who had been sitting across from you. It was as if he was waiting for the right moment to tell you what you already knew. 

You rose an eyebrow, gently closing the book in your hands, “Yggdrasil has yet to fail me, Master Frode. My father and the sage's may not believe in my sights, but you of all people should know they are true.”

He gave you a flat look, used to the slight smugness you radiated at being told another one of your sights were ringing true. From the first time he'd watched your face go blank and seen your hands rapidly scribble images onto a blank page, he knew you had been blessed by Yggdrasil. Ever since you were a babe, really. Born under the tree of life just as the first Bough Seer had been. 

Frode was one of the greatest scholars that Khaenri'ah had. It was the reason he taught not just you, but your elder brother Finn, and it was the reason he was your father's regent. His family started off as scribe's for Khaenri'ah’s first king, and knowledge was passed down with each generation. Who better to take the throne if something were to happen to the royal family than those in the Alberich clan? One day, his son could possibly be regent to Finn. 

“The legacy of the Bough Seer has been spoken throughout generations,” Frode let out a sigh. “It isn't that your father and the sages don't believe in your gift. It is that they are afraid of it.”

They were. The sages never wanted to hear talk of what sight the tree of life gives you. Their fear of Celestia not only had your nation underground and far from their gaze, it had the people pushing to get further away. Time, money, and resources were being dumped into bringing machines that could drill to the inverted surface, but there wasn't much progress with it. All in hopes that one day the people could see the sun shining again. 

Khaenri'ah had always been shrouded in darkness– from the minute that Celestia had dropped a nail on their ancestors in Sal Vindagnyr. Above the surface, tragedy struck those seeking refuge, and underground everything they had worked for was smashed to pieces. Up until finding the small corner of the world where they couldn't be found, the odds of survival were not high. 

The land they resided in now was built on blood, loss, and sheer spite to keep living without Celstia breathing down their neck. All because the ancestors had learned certain truths and began to rely on each other rather than the god’s bounties. 

“Are you calling my father a coward, Master Frode?” your lip tugged upward, a teasing smile gracing your lips at the startled look on his face. “You'd be correct, I suppose. The people do not have the slightest clue a Bough Seer was once again reborn, even though in the past they were once the king's greatest asset.”

Very few kings of the Eclipse Dynasty were fortunate enough to have a seer by their side. They were born once every five hundred years, and they were blessed by Yggdrasil with a sight that allowed them to see glimpses of what was to come. While most foresaw how the harvest would go, and if natural disaster would strike, it was still better than anything the sages could guess. With a Bough Seer, they were practically useless. 

However, your father chose to ignore your gift. He depended on the sages rather than you. Maybe it was because he feared the wrath of gods that you weren't supposed to believe in, or maybe it was because every time you were around him, all he could see was your mother. 

When you told him that Nidhug, Khaenri'ah’s true guardian, was going to fall ill and pass on, he refused to hear you. The sages believed his time would come far in the future. He was in perfect health, and there was no need to worry. 

But Nidhug was old. He had been around since the beginning of Khaenri'ah’s time. Your ancestors spent nine days fighting him, nine weeks gaining his trust, and nine months taming him before they could even think about touching the soil for anything other than farming. A dragon who had lived for thousands of years, alone until your people had found him. 

The dragonheirs were few and far between, eventually wiped out due to their untamable nature despite countless attempts to tame them as well. There was no creature who could take his place.

Weeks ago, you'd seen his fate. The way he barely moved an inch when approached, his labored breathing, and how long it took him to pry his eyes open when he was spoken to. He was going to die, and Khaenri'ah would no longer have its greatest defense. 

“I'm sure the meeting will be over soon,” Frode let out a sigh. “Sir Dainsleif will be able to take you to see him.”

You shook your head, “You could always accompany me as well. Unless—”

“Father!” A child's voice called out, the rapid patter of tiny footsteps echoing off the wall. “Look! Look what Master Gustav taught me!”

The boy was no older than seven, his hair styled to match his fathers– the top section pulled into a ponytails the rest laid down flat. You thought it was cute, how he always tried to look and act like the older man. Although he took after his mother Svana, with his tanned skin and blue hair, he did have Frode’s eyes. 

The white haired man went to scold his son for interrupting when you spoke up instead, “May I see too, Kaeya?”

It was almost as if he just realized you were there as he came to a stop in front of his father. His eyes widened, almost dropping what he had in his hand and reaching out to grab Frode’s arm. He froze, glancing at the elder man with a look that screamed for help. Kaeya had always been shy. Immediately embarrassed if he spoke too loud or gained unwanted attention. This time, it was because he didn't notice you, the princess he always saw but had barely spoken three words to. 

Frode nodded at the boy, and Kaeya held out a small wooden animal, one that looked to be carved and whittled by his own hand. Even though it lacked major details, it held just enough to make out what it was.

“Master Gustav said a dragon protects us,” Kaeya forced himself to speak. “He taught me how to carve the wood. I made it for mother, do you think she’ll like it?”

You smiled, gently taking his hand in yours before looking over his creation with more thought than before. You nodded your head in response, “I think she’ll love it. Do you think you could make one for me too? I can take you to see the real dragon in return.”

The thought of seeing Nidhug had Kaeya immediately nodding his head in agreement. He wanted to go now, but didn't dare push his luck. Frode was not too pleased with the idea of his son being around a beast, but if anyone could keep the dragon in line, it was Dainsleif, the captain of the Black Serpent Knights and your personal guard. 

“I wish to be a knight like you when I get older,” Kaeya absentmindedly told Dainsleif as the three of you walked the path to the sage's temple. 

He was stopping to pick up rocks and trying to catch butterflies as you went, forcing you and Dainsleif to stop walking long enough to drag his attention back to the task at hand. Both of you were patient, knowing he was young and easily distracted. 

“Is that so?” Dainsleif questioned him, slight amusement in his tone. “It will take a lot of training, bravery, and strength to become a knight.”

Kaeya nodded, already knowing this from the minute he was given the wooden sword that he had sheathed at his hip. He was determined, despite knowing how difficult it would be. He was too young to truly understand now, but he would be giving up the chance at an education, at learning what he would need to know in order to one day be a regent. The young one seemed to think he could do both, and no one had the heart to tell him that wasn't the case. 

There were days when you and Dainsleif would spend time at the Vaxandi library, going through books so he could learn to read better, or when you'd take him around the kingdom and explain the histories of the buildings that stood tall and proud for many millennia. Because his training as a knight took precedence over studies, Dainsleif was not as educated as other nobles. 

“I know,” he responded, proud of his decision. “One day I'll be strong enough to protect the princess too.”

He sounded so determined, like he would weather any storm to make his words ring true. Resilience and determination like that was needed for a knight, and as long as he kept that in mind, he could do it. He was already learning about conduct and forms from his master but had yet to train with even the wooden sword. 

Dainsleif could respect that, telling him he had complete faith in him as you all walked along the fields of mist. You could tell you were getting closer to the temple as the fog got thicker. Kaeya could barely see in front of him, reaching up to grab your hand before he could trip over rocks on the footpath. The way was lit, making it slightly easier to see as Dainsleif led the way. 

It didn't take long for the three of you to reach the temple, the sages outside allowing you to pass through without question. You didn't even greet them as you headed for the cave where Nidhug resided, knowing you wouldn't be able to mind your manners. You warned them this was going to happen, and they refused to listen to them. But, that was how it had always been. 

Kaeya let out a soft gasp when he saw the giant creature curled up on the ground. It was his first time seeing anything like it, and he almost couldn't believe his eyes. You frowned, approaching the beast slowly. 

You knelt down by his head, Kaeya letting go of your hand and taking several steps back when the dragon opened his bright green eyes and looked at you. Nidhug let out a sharp breath, closing his eyes again as you reached out to pet him. 

“Greyið,” you ran your hand over his dark scales, and he leaned into your touch. It was true. Nidhug was not well, his breathing was labored and he barely had the strength to move. “The beast’s last breath unbinds the old ways.”

Kaeya looked at Dainsleif, confused at your words. The knight simply shrugged in response. He was used to your way of speaking when it came to your sights. You were never direct, always vague or speaking in a sort of riddle. He figured you meant with Nidhug’s death, it would be the end of an era. Instead of giving Kaeya an answer, Dainsleif placed his hand on the small of his back and gently pushed him forward.

You turned, waving the boy forward. He apprehensively approached, crouching down next to you. He reached out as well, petting the creature as if it were a common house pet. His nose scrunched up at the texture felt against his fingertips– rough and uneven. 

A sigh left the dragon, at least you assumed that's what the change in his breath was. Silence fell over you as three of you spent the dragon’s last moments with him. Kaeya didn't understand what exactly was happening, but he didn't dare break the silence. He stayed in his spot, showing Nidhug the same amount of love that you were giving to him. 

When his labored breath came to a halt, a single tear trailed down your cheek. Nidhug was much more than a protector. He was a symbol of your nation’s separation from the Archons and Celestia. Now that he was gone there was no longer anything standing in their way. The Drekaöld had come to an end, the age of the dragon ending sooner than expected. The Black Serpent Knight's time was beginning, and something was telling you the strength of them combined was nothing in comparison to Khaenri'ah’s guardian.

Fire. Your hand furiously moved as you drew smoke and ash along the wall. Destruction. Despite being unable to make out clear details, the pit of unease that settled into your stomach told you that the ruins you were seeing were that of your nation. World… forget me. You paused, taking your free hand and wiping away the charcoal dust. You couldn't make sense of what you were seeing, what you were hearing. It didn't add up.

A land without sun. Khaenri'ah. The nation powered by the sólkerfi device, right? Wrong. Another land without natural light. But if not Khaenri'ah then where? Was there another nation who used an artificial sun? What did they have to do with anything? Was it war between us and them?

Field tillers. It was more clear now. Field tillers?…and the monsters that the Black Serpent Knights kept at bay, invading this other land. But, why? We have no qualms with anyone but Celestia. Taking on the gods seems unlikely, at least currently. What next? What happens next?

Death. Not in this strange land, but home.  They waged war? Or was it us? But what reason do we have? It’s unclear, fuzzy. Who died? Father? Brother? The knights who vowed to protect us in times like this? Death. Death of who, of what, of where? Khaenri'ah, right? … No answer? Tell me what happens. 

Khemia. Poison. Khemia? What is that? Unsafe. Gold. Make it make sense. Connect the pieces. None of them fit. It's made an even bigger puzzle. Why are you doing this? No time? Me or you? It doesn't matter. I’m afraid I don't understand. Don't tell me to be quiet. 

Blood. Below and above the surface. No, no, this isn't right. Speak clearly. What do you want to say? It's never this blurry, it's always so clear. It doesn't make sense. Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to upset– what? Not my fault. Of course it's not my fault, you're the one confusing me. 

Sky Nail. Celestia awakens. The Archon War? Is it still ongoing? Why is that our concern? It's not. We have nothing to do with it. Do we? We don't. But why did they wake up? No time. I understand that.

Archon. Wrath. Arrogate. This is too much. Stop, stop, stop. What are we laying claim to? Why are the Archons mad? Because we don't worship them? Why do they care? They've cared about nobody but themselves for thousands of years. Yes, I agree, you should be angry with them too. Seems the legends are true. 

Gold. Poison. Downfall. It's out of order. Why is it out of order? Are you telling me you're dying? You were poisoned? No, we wouldn't let that happen. We can't let that happen. We won't let that happen. We can eclipse Celestia, but you will always shine bright. Shine bright. An Archon who protects you… interesting. I–

World… forget me. Out of time. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” A voice cut through the sound of erratic breathing and chalk dragging against stone. But the words fell on deaf ears, you were much too lost in your own head. You were frantic, running the chalk down into loose grit, desperately searching for another. 

The newcomer held one out for you, watching as you worked along the wall with nothing but a flickering lantern as your light source. Just like always, he silently watched until a sharp breath passed your lips and the chalk clattered against the floor. You stood there, mumbling nonsense under your breath. He couldn't make out a word you were saying, but he could see your mouth moving. 

“This…” you trailed off, absentmindedly wiping the black powder off on your nightgown. “This is bad. Not good.”

He approached you, lightly placing a hand on your shoulder. You jumped, not realizing he was there. Your heart was racing, much like your mind as you tried to piece together the broken puzzle. 

“Dainsleif,” You exhaled slowly, trying to calm yourself down. “What are you doing here? It's late.”

A light chuckle left him, his blue eyes shining with amusement, “I could ask you the same thing, elska. Walking around without a guard? What would your father say?”

He could always find you here, especially after the day you had with losing Nidhug. He had a feeling you'd be getting your next sight soon, although he didn't realize it would be this close to the one that was just fulfilled. 

You rolled your eyes, “As if he’d ever know. He’s much too busy discussing matters with the sages and preparing Finn to take the throne to give me one ounce of his attention. Plus, these are royal grounds. No one would ever be foolish enough to make an attempt on my life here. Now, don't evade the question.”

“Well then what of Frode, what if you were hurt on the way?” he prodded, earning a flat look from you. He sighed in defeat, “Alright, fine. If you insist on knowing, I came here purely on instinct. From the looks of it, you should've called on me before coming here alone.”

He glanced to the wall, which had been drawn on for years. This was the biggest piece you'd ever done, and what the picture held was concerning. He'd never seen such darkness and violence depicted in one of your drawings. He felt uncomfortable looking at it for too long. 

“I haven't made complete sense of it,” you admitted, following his gaze. “It was all choppy, blurry. Barely comprehensible.”

He frowned, focusing his attention back on you, “You need to rest. You can figure it out tomorrow.”

But, sleep would never come. After Dainsleif escorted you back to the palace and bid you goodnight, the only thing you could do was toss and turn. The images you saw earlier plagued your mind, concerning you to the point where you couldn't close your eyes without seeing the jumbled mess of all of it. 

By the time the moon’s position went from miðnætti to åtta– midnight to eight– you hadn't slept a wink. Instead of waiting for your handmaiden to help you get dressed, you got ready for the day by yourself and made your way to the Höggomur Quarters where Dainsleif resided. 

You knew he'd give you an earful for not waiting, and for storming into the Black Serpent Knights wing as if you did it all the time. People would talk, and Halfdan would never let either of you hear the end of it. 

Halfdan swore he was a romantic, and that he was perceptive when people had feelings for one another. But whatever he thought about you and Dainsleif, he could forget it. Even if Dainsleif did reciprocate your feelings, you were a princess and he was your guard. The sages would never approve of such a relationship, let alone your father. Halfdan thought the two of you were imbeciles– blind to how you felt about each other– and he couldn't fix stupid. However, he could push and prod. 

Which is exactly what he went to do as soon as he saw you in the halls. But, you were dead set on finding Dainsleif as soon as possible. You'd been up all night, your mind running in circles as you tried to make sense of it all. 

“Do not start,” you warned him, holding up a finger. “Where is he?”

Halfdan, who had a ghost of a cheeky smirk on his lips, gave you an amused chuckle in response, “He’s just now getting ready. Someone kept him up all night.”

Your mouth parted in shock, offended at what he was insinuating even though you both knew it wasn't true, “You mind your tongue, Sir Halfdan. Tell him to not keep me waiting or I will leave without him.”

“You think so poorly of me,” the man in question approached you, a small hint of a smile shining through his feigned annoyance. “Did you even get any rest?”

You pursed your lips before you evaded the question, “We need to get going.”

The slightly unamused look in his eye turned into one of irritation. Your disregard for your own self care was the bane of his existence, especially when you had yet to make sense of one of your sights. You were stubborn, you always had been. Once you set your mind to something, there was no changing it. It was something he both appreciated and hated about you. 

With a facetious smile in his direction, you walked towards the exit of the headquarters. He was quick to follow, falling into step with you in no time. There was a comfortable silence that fell between you, the walk to Yggdrasil’s location taking less time than you thought. 

As the two of you drew closer, an anxious pit set in your stomach. It grew with each step, the looming feeling of something dreadful pressing into your shoulders. It was almost as if he could tell, because the moment it almost became unbearable, he turned to look at you.

“The inteyvat fields will be ready soon,” he informed you, a light smile painting his lips. “I believe I promised to take you.”

Despite yourself and the turmoil you were fighting, you let out a small laugh, “I believe that you do, every year if I recall correctly.”

He remembered when he first became your guard. He was fresh out of training, eager to do his duty. As bright as a star– if not as bright as the moon. It was also the first time he'd seen you cry. That day had been sour from the minute you woke, aware that not only was it the day of your birth, it was the day of your mother's death. As a new life breathed air under the Yggdrasil tree, another was lost. 

Even though you wished to be alone, he disregarded your words and refused to leave until you stopped crying. He had the idea to get your mind off things, a simple stroll that led you the furthest out of the kingdom that you had ever been. A place that your former guard refused to let you go. The Inteyvat fields in the heart of Pilos Path. He promised to bring you every year as a reminder that even though a flower had been plucked from the ground, it remained intact. Much like the memory of a soul who has departed from the world of the living will never be forgotten as long as there were those who remembered. 

Every year you visited since, you often thought about entering Pilos Peak and seeing what was on the other side. Would it be everything you ever dreamed? Would the sun emit real warmth? Were the stars as bright as the stories told?

Neither one of you had seen real stars before. Because deep under the ground of Jarðríki– Teyvat– and between that of Óþekkturíki– Inteyvat– was a kingdom with a bare sky. No real stars, or a real sun. Just a real moon. 

While above the surface offered another beautiful light moon and thousands of stars, according to the legends, it was all believed to be fake. You may never feel the warmth of the Teyvat's sun or the chill of the night, but you could always dream. You once told Dainsleif this dream. Whether it was to see the world above the surface, or the real moon below, you wanted to see the world. Khaenri'ah just so happened to lie perfectly between both Teyvat and Inteyvat.

While there was no direct path to Teyvat, there was a portion of Khaenri'ah that did not belong to the world. It leads further down, into a world that your people dared not explore. At least, not yet. Alchemists and researchers were working on perfecting their machines to make headway, and only the best of adventures and the royal guard would be sent in. Meaning one day you would have to say goodbye to Dainsleif, as he was the Rökkrinu Sverð– the Twilight Sword– the captain of the Black Serpent Knights.

Not knowing if you would ever see the man you considered your closest companion again one day also filled you with dread. But all the hard work he's done, all the time and effort he put in would be paying off, and you knew that you'd never be more proud of anyone when the time came. That was your reasoning for continuing your birthday tradition once you had stopped hating it– you never knew which birthday would be Dainsleif's last to spend with you. 

Now, as the two of you came to a stop in front of the Yggdrasil tree, you wondered if that time was nigh. Your eyes scanned the markings you had left behind last night, seeing them more clearly under the moon’s light. 

You thought there were pieces to a puzzle that wouldn't fit no matter how hard you tried. But, looking at it now, you could see where all the pieces lied. Your mind was no longer buzzing with confusion and was clear of the fog a sight always left you in, and it was much easier to work out the order of everything. 

A stranger, someone new to the land who would bring a power that would not only cause war between Khaenri'ah and another nation, it would also lead to Khaenri'ah's downfall. Celestia would once again awaken, once again wipe out your people to keep you all silent. Afterall, the best way to keep a secret was to make sure the other party could never tell it. History would repeat, and your nation– your people– would be lost.

You swallowed thickly, turning to Dainsleif, “I must speak to Master Frode.”

“What is it?” He questioned, not missing the terrified look in your eye despite how well you tried to cover it. You could've fooled anyone else, but not him. “What did you see?”

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you forced yourself to look up at him. Concern was written in his expression, wildly searching your eyes for an answer that you were hesitant to give. You could never be clear with your answers. Not that you didn't want to, but you weren't physically capable of doing so. You had to pick all of your words wisely, and the words you chose as you grabbed his hand filled him with dread.

“Promise me,” your mouth ran dry as you choked back the tears threatening to spill over. “Dainsleif… promise me that you will hold my hand as the walls come tumbling down.” 

TAGS: @dottores @dxlucs @mxnjiros @niicevibe @myalbedo @alucrds @thetempleofnyx @saoiirsee @wherethebloodrosesbloom @stygianoir @wolfrynx @fatmight

tags open, please comment on the masterlist to be added!

guys it turns out if you wanna have fun and be a fun and interesting person you like have to fill your day with fun things and not just rotting in your room …… need a moment to process

the entire party thinks we're dating

cw: 4.5k wc, female reader, sendo registers oliver on one of those rent a boyfriend for a day websites as a prank and you just so happen to need a date for another wedding you really don't want to attend on your own—

When you swing the door open, you can’t help but blink a few times at the sight before your eyes.

“Oh”, you say.

The man staring back with a lopsided smile, hands buried in the pockets of what looks like an expensive suit, raises his brows.

“Oh?”, he parrots, “thought we could start with hello, nice to meet you”.

“Sorry, it’s just…”, you tilt your head, “I get why you’re so expensive. They weren’t kidding with that description”.

When you leave the door open and waltz back into the living room, Oliver takes it as an invitation to come in.

“Can you remind me what that description said?”, the sound of the door being softly pushed closed echoes in the silent room while you’re busy checking yourself out in the mirror above the couch.

“Friendly, tall, incredibly charming, devastatingly handsome. Something like that”.

He smirks, catching your gaze in the mirror.

“And you just validated all that, huh?”.

You click your tongue.

“We’ll see about the friendly, incredibly charming part”.

“Devastatingly handsome it is then, I’ll take the compliment. You look really good in that dress, by the way”.

“Don’t”, you scoff, “you’re too hot to be that much of a clichè”.

He hums, amused.

“Not too hot to tell the truth. You know, for someone so wary, it’s surprising you’d let me pick you up at your place”.

“Not her place”, Chisako’s voice startles him and you sigh, turning to the mirror once more: your hair is being exceptionally stubborn.

“Listen… what’s your name again?”, your best friend eyes him up and down, hands on her hips.

“I’m Oliver”, he replies, seemingly amused. You meet his gaze in the mirror once more.

“Listen, Oliver. You do anything to her, anything, and I’ll kill you. Won’t even go through the fuss of pressing charges, you hear me?”.

“That’s sweet”.

She narrows her gaze.

“You think I’m kidding? Hands to yourself and don’t try anything funny”.

“Hey, just a quick reminder, she rented me”.

“You, don’t talk to my friend like that”, you finally whip around, exasperated, “and you, please don’t scare my very expensive date away yet. I still need him”.

With a scoff, Chisako lightly slaps your finger away from her chest.

“Fine. Share your location and call me if you need anything. Keep your phone with you”, you soften when you read the sincere worry swarming in her eyes and smile.

“Deal. Thank you”, with a deep breath, you grab your purse and take an uncertain step back, “do I look okay?”.

“More than okay, you’re…”.

“Beautiful”.

You both look at him, skeptical.

“You don’t have to do that”.

“Do what?”, Oliver chuckles, “let me guess, you think that was also a lie”.

“Hot and smart? You really are the whole package”, with a scoff, you walk past him and toward the front door, where you slip your very pretty, very uncomfortable heels on.

Still evidently amused, he opens the door for you and offers his arm to walk you down the stairs of the old apartment complex. Chisako waits on the balcony, arms folded and resting on the black railing. You look up and she waves, making you chuckle.

When Oliver leans forward to open the car door for you, you look at him astonished.

“You came… in a porsche?”.

He grins.

“I mean, you did pay for the whole package”.

Right.

“So, we’re gonna need a story, right? Am I your boyfriend or are we just casually dating?”, the smaller space you’re now sharing is ruthless in making you notice the details you couldn’t catch in your friend’s apartment. The man starting the engine and now sitting dangerously close to you smells unfairly good and the deep rumble of his voice, low, intimate, feels as soft as velvet. It almost resembles the purr of a big cat.

“Boyfriend. We met about two months ago and only recently made it official”.

“Sounds good to me”, he briefly glances at you with a smile, “whose wedding is it, anyway?”.

You grimace.

“An old colleague. She’s never gonna buy this but we can do our best”.

“Are you doubting me or yourself right now?”.

With a snort, you gesture vaguely.

“You’re an incredibly attractive guy who drives a sports car. No one at that wedding is going to believe I could bag that”.

“It’s my job to make sure they do”, Oliver clicks his tongue, “besides, I think I’d have a much harder time charming you. I’m pretty easy to bag”.

His absolutely serious tone makes you melt into a chuckle, which he seems to appreciate. Head slightly turned, you focus on his profile for a brief moment. The bridge of his nose, full lips, long lashes. You wonder if he’s using contacts. He must be, right? There’s no way he’d be blessed with those eyes too, among everything else.

“You’re staring”, he mutters, still focused on the road. The playful lilt of his tone makes you shift in your seat.

“You’re nice to look at”.

He huffs out a sound that sounds like a chuckle, both amused and somehow coy.

“How come you ended up on that website? You don’t seem like the type who’d need to rent a man”.

You stay silent for a few seconds, looking straight ahead while lost in your own thoughts. Truth is, you’re not quite sure yourself. It’s true: you’re definitely not the type and, suddenly, the entirety of the absurd situation weighs heavy on your chest.

You’re in a car, with a man you know nothing about, heading to a wedding party where everyone will be able to call your bluff. And you spent an embarrassing amount of money for this, too.

“I think I’m about to throw up”, you murmur.

“Excuse me?”.

“I’m seriously about to throw up. Oh, no. What was I thinking?”, your hands rise to cover your face, “stop the car, please”.

“We’re on the highway”.

“But I’m about to throw-”

“Please stop talking about throwing up, the thought of someone vomiting triggers my gag reflex”, Oliver sends an alarmed glance your way but you’re refusing to meet his gaze, practically bending over in your own seat, “think of the leather seats”.

“I don’t care about your stupid leather seats!”.

“You were fine ten seconds ago-”

“Oliver”, the way you straight out whine his name all of a sudden tucks the words back into his throat, “I don’t even know you. Oh, god, what if you’re a maniac? What if you try to murder me? I’m in a car with a man I don’t know, I spent so much money only to end up dead in a ditch!”.

“Okay, listen-”

“I’m sorry, I know this is a really weird reaction but I’m freaking out big time, I never did this before-”

“Me neither!”.

Your eyes grow in size and your jaw slacks, panic overcoming your features. Oliver clears his throat.

“I mean, I never had to convince an entire audience at a wedding. My dates were always a walk in the park, an afternoon at the mall, one movie, an ice cream on the way home”, he lies so easily it almost makes him laugh. Either way, Oliver slows down and gently stops the car, parking it on the shoulder of the highway.

“Hey”, he tentatively reaches for your wrist, to gently remove one of your hands from your face, “can you look at me? You said I’m nice to look at, no?”.

“You are. Which would make you the perfect murderer”, you whisper. Still, you comply and find an incredulous smile brightening up his face.

“Jesus. Okay, listen, I promise you can trust me. I won’t hurt you. If you changed your mind I can drive you home right now, or drop you off at the venue and leave”. 

“Really?”.

“Really”.

You inhale a deep breath and relax against your seat underneath the weight of his honest, magnetic gaze.

“I’m sorry. You must think I’m insane”.

“Believe it or not, I’ve met more insane people”, he smiles.

You lower your gaze.

“It’s just… not something I would usually do. I was really tired of being always the lonely one at weddings and social gatherings, I never let the teasing get to me but I guess I started feeling”, you pause to look for the right word, “vulnerable. I don’t have to prove anything but I was just so sick of it. And this particular colleague is insufferable, she’s been with the guy ever since high school and just kept talking my ear off about true love, soulmates, all that bullshit…”, Oliver laughs and you look up from your lap.

“What?”.

“Nothing”, he raises both hands in mock protection, “keep going”.

You glare at him.

“Well, that’s the story. I was exhausted, drank an entire bottle of wine, found the website, booked the most expensive option because I really wanted to rub it in their faces. Then I almost had a panic attack about it, apparently”.

“The most expensive, huh?”, his blatant smugness makes you groan.

“You know you are the most expensive”.

He doesn’t, really. But it’s surely a pleasant learning.

“Right. Well, I’m ready to be your arm candy and piss the bride off if you’ll have me”, Oliver flashes you another smile, “you know, I’m sure she hired a good glam team but I’m willing to bet my date still looks better”.

“You’re such a flirt”, you smile and idly shake your head, “you know what? Fine. What the hell, I deserve a few hours with a hot dude who says I look pretty. Let’s go piss the bride off”.

He starts the engine again with a pleased hum.

“Please pay more attention, I remember saying you look beautiful”.

“Ugh, they really know what they’re doing on that website”, you laugh, sudden and loud and genuine.

Oliver never thought Sendo’s dumb prank was something he’d resent him for. On the contrary, he decided to go with it just one time, for the sake of having a funny story to share one day.

Now, with the vivacious laughter of the (not entirely sane) stranger currently in his car still ringing in his ears, he knows he made the right decision.

Oliver is not prepared for the way you surprise him.

He has witnessed enough unsettling transformations in his life, hell, he still sometimes becomes another person on the field, but the switch you turn on the second you both walk into the reception is… staggering.

No one would be able to tell you had a breakdown in his car just moments prior to walking into the venue. Watching the way you carry yourself, how you talk to everyone, the confidence embedded in every word and movement is mesmerizing. Makes him doubt of his own sanity because what if he imagined you almost throwing up on his expensive seats?

His thumb idly runs over your knuckles as you introduce him to yet another friend. The boyfriend renting agreement comes with some important rules: the date is to be strictly platonic and there’s a fixed hourly rate which gets higher the more requested a boyfriend is. You briefly discussed some boundaries, to make sure the other is comfortable at all times: Oliver can’t kiss you and you can’t kiss him, but everything else is pretty much allowed. You asked if it was okay for him to hold your hand and he made it pretty clear that it wasn’t a problem, or so the fingers so easily slipping in between yours seemed to suggest. 

You kiss each other’s cheek and rest your heads on each other’s shoulder and your hands are so gentle as they move strands of dark hair away from his eyes. His arm feels solid and comforting around your shoulders, hand warm against the small of your back as he guides you through the garden filled with tables and guests.

Surprising Oliver is not easy but something weird happens when you call him baby for the first time. He wonders how you can make it sound so natural, where you learned to be a liar good enough to have your eyes sparkle like that, on demand. He’s there to have a fun story to share but he’s also supposed to do the work, to do what’s expected of him. Instead, it feels like you’re pulling the strings and all he can do is try to stay afloat within your current.

He surprises you too. When a few guests gather around you two, wonder shimmering in their eyes, friends asking where you even got to meet a pro soccer player, you look at him as shocked and rightfully confused as a fake girlfriend would be.

“She asked if she could get a jersey signed for…”, Oliver searches your gaze in silent demand and you clear your throat, still flabbergasted.

“Kenji”, you offer an easy smile.

The man standing on Oliver’s left, supposedly Kenji himself, gasps.

“Right, Kenji”, Oliver smiles too, “I told her I would only sign it if she went on a date with me”.

“He has that romantic blackmail thing about him, I fell for it instantly”, you ever so slightly narrow your gaze and, in response, he tightens his hold around your waist.

“You’ve been dating him for months and you didn’t think of getting us tickets to some games?”, another one of your old colleagues, Yoshio, pouts.

“You’ve been dating him for months and you didn’t think of getting us the numbers of some pro soccer players?”, your friend Yumi practically shoves Yoshio out of the way and you finally relax, melting into genuine laughter.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Guess we can still make that happen, right, baby?”, there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes when you look at him. He thinks he might get used to being looked at with such daring playfulness.

“Sure. Shuto’s always happy to go on dates-”

“Sendo Shuto?”, Yumi’s eyes get as big as saucers. This time, Oliver laughs with you.

It shouldn’t come as a shock that he’s good at what he does but you still can’t quite believe just how talented he is as a fake boyfriend. You’re aching to ask questions, the entire dinner spent wondering what on earth a famous pro soccer player is even doing on a rent a boyfriend website. Nothing gets past social media these days, wouldn’t that be news eventually? How does he keep it a secret? Is it a second job, a weird fetish?

Akane’s never been particularly traditional from what you can recall but her husband really wanted to incorporate as much traditional customs as possible in their celebration. You sit through course after course of plates and bowls filled with delicious dishes: clear soup with shrimp cake, sashimi, grilled fish glazed with sweet miso, tempura, red rice. All the while Oliver, ankle hooked around yours underneath the table, makes perfect conversation with everyone. He has an answer ready to each question and you pretend to ignore both your colleagues’ and Akane’s bewildered, inquisitorial gazes directed at you from tables away, too busy reciprocating your date’s honeyed praises and smiles.

He gets you alone in between courses, right as everyone is either taking a break or bringing the dancefloor to life before fruit and cake are served. They won’t buy it if we don’t pull away from the crowd for a little bit.

It’s why Oliver currently has you pressed against a retaining wall in a more secluded but still strategically visible part of the garden, body towering over yours and so close you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric of his white shirt.

“A pro soccer player”, you click your tongue, “care to explain?”.

“Relax your shoulders”, he murmurs and smiles, pleased, when you comply right away, “I owe you a date, not explanation”.

You deflate a bit and Oliver curls further over you.

“Fine, keep your secrets”, a pause, “won’t this be a problem if someone takes some pics and leaks them, though?”.

“I stopped caring about that stuff long time ago. But I can have everyone here sign an nda to protect you from it, just say the word”.

You shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’m not really on social media and we’ll split up by tomorrow, anyway”.

“Aw, you’ll break my heart”, one of his hands rises to rest on the side of your neck, thumb softly tracing your jaw, “even after validating how friendly and incredibly charming I am. So cold”.

There’s something about him, a stranger you paid to pretend to be your boyfriend for the sake of not attending yet another wedding alone. It’s odd and has your heart thumping in your chest, something behind your ribs catching fire whenever his fingers graze your skin so intentionally. You wonder if this is really him, if he’s the person you feel so inexplicably drawn to. If there’s a chance of you not being stupid enough to be attracted to a faux boyfriend with a carefully crafted, fictitious personality.

“Make it look like you’re kissing me”, you ignore his teasing for the sake of your sanity and slightly tilt your head up to meet the dangerous glint of mismatched eyes. Oliver lowers his head and tilts it slightly to the side, lips moving against your cheek when he speaks again.

“Put your arms around my neck”, he orders back in a murmur. Your scoff makes him chuckle as he pretends to not notice how you shiver against him.

“This is such a weird side job to have”, your embrace pulls him closer, or maybe it’s the lightest brush of your lips against his chin. When your fingers start carding through the green hair at the base of his nape, he exhales.

“Maybe it’s not a side job. Maybe I’m just here for you, just this once”.

You idly brush your nose against his cheek, a feeling warm and treacherous unfurling in your chest. He pulls back enough to lock your gaze to his once more, still so intense despite being concealed by the partial darkness of this particular corner of the garden. He is so unfairly beautiful. Not far from where you stand, guests are laughing and drinking and dancing, some of them no doubt looking at you two. It’s striking, how little they suddenly matter.

“Maybe that makes me lucky, then”, you whisper, lean into his touch when his other hand cradles your cheek. Oliver gently holds your face in his hands, seemingly conflicted as his gaze falls on your lips. You tilt your head back to give him a better view.

An absurd thought takes shape in a far corner of your mind: will this truly be the one and only time you’ll get to see him? Not that you’d ever be pathetic enough to rent a man from a website multiple times. Let alone the same man. It’s such a weird, ridiculous thing to be disappointed by. You wonder if it’ll rival the disappointment of not being kissed by him.

Oliver wets his lips, the pink flash of his tongue alluring in a maddening way. Your head spins. You don’t recall ever feeling such unusual torment before.

And then, finally, finally, he leans closer.

“Hey, lovebirds!”, Akane’s cheerful tone makes you both jump and you bring a hand to your chest as Oliver takes a wobbly step back, “we didn’t have the chance to chat, are you having fun?”.

She’s not talking to you at all, attentive gaze set on the man next to you.

“Everything’s perfect, thank you for having us. I wish you both everlasting happiness”, you smile, a little tense.

“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t surprised. One almost wishes he was around for all those office christmas parties, right? Remember how you were always the only one to show up alone?”.

You clear your throat, shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“I remember. Always alone and yet still the funniest person in every room, without fail”, with a wink, you hope to conceal the soreness caused by her ungenerous words.

Akane hums.

“I still wonder why that’s such a great coping mechanism…”

“It proves she doesn’t need a man to have a personality”, Oliver straight out grins, one hand comes to rest on your nape and gives it a gentle squeeze, “it’s what I like about her”.

She raises her brows in interest.

“Well, that’s true. She’s pretty great”.

“Yeah, she is”.

You relax under his touch and a strange thrill comes with it, with knowing he possesses the ability to make you feel at ease. He doesn’t exactly dislike such knowledge.

“I’m glad you have each other now”, Akane’s features soften, “maybe one day I’ll be invited to your wedding!”.

You cough, embarrassed.

“Let’s not go overbo-”

“Maybe!”, Oliver chimes in once again, jovial, “who can tell?”.

It almost makes you choke on air. When you look up at him, Akane’s cheerful laughter echoing in the sweet summer evening air, he’s already looking at you.

As you stumble back to join the other guests, heels sinking in the soft grass, the bride gently grazes your arm with the pads of her fingers before rejoining her husband and their closest friends. You know Akane is not a bad person, her words don’t hold any actual venom despite stinging. In her own way she means well, which is why you are so genuinely happy for her. She got the happy ending she was always destined to have. It’s just that not everyone is as lucky and it’s unfair to expect them to be just because she’s part of the chosen ones.

“Where are you going?”, Oliver hooks a finger in the low square back of your dress to pull you in, the contact setting something similar to a flow of electricity running along your spine.

“To eat cake?”, you easily dissimulate. He keeps his finger there, even when you stop in your tracks.

“Let them”, he winks, “may I have this dance?”.

You stay frozen.

“Did you just casually quote Marie Antoinette to me?”, is all you can come up with because, frankly, the idea of a man who already possesses so many blessings being also able to dance is a little too unfair.  

“Can’t a man be hot and educated?”, he grins, then finally releases the back of your dress by letting the stretch fabric lightly slap against your back, “don’t think you can distract me, let’s go”.

If there’s one learning to be taken from this impossibly strange evening is that, apparently, there is no escaping Oliver Aiku. He even rivals the promise of a rich serving of white chocolate almond cake with raspberry filling.

He pulls you close on the interlocking parquet dance floor rented by the newlyweds, hands splayed big and warm on your hips as your arms, for the second time, find their way to rest around his neck. You do your best to not feel intimidated by the excessively romantic, slow track everyone else is currently dancing to as well.

Then, it’s as if a spell is cast on you. Or rather a curse.

“Who is he?”, the question surprises you and your eyes find his. Oliver is so close and he smells so unethically good.

“Who?”, yet you struggle to keep your focus, attention oscillating between the stranger you’re currently pressed against and a more familiar face your wandering eyes keep searching, dancing not far from you. Something painfully throbs in your chest.

“The man you keep looking at, who is he?”, Oliver asks softly, almost caringly.

“My ex-boyfriend”, the confession isn’t but a low whisper, “I think. I think he’s here with the woman he cheated on me with. Well, one of them, anyway”, your chuckle is bitter. It distorts the joyfulness of the evening, the mere sight of them suddenly staining, polluting every positive feeling you’ve been able to feel until now.

And then Oliver is grasping your chin, tilting his head to effectively block your view of them. You’re forced to look at him and only him, to focus on how his thumb skating over the skin underneath your bottom lip feels.

“How about you keep your eyes on me, then?”, he whispers.

“Sorry”, you stop yourself with a sigh when your gaze slides once more, “I’m sorry. It’s really stupid”.

“What is?”, his gaze, perhaps involuntarily, falls on your lips, “caring? Feeling hurt?”.

“Don’t do that”.

“What?”.

“Don’t… like, I know this is an act. But you don’t have to do that too, pretend to care. You’re a little too good at it and it confuses me”.

Oliver lets go of your chin and offers a faint smile.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you confuse me too”.

You blink a few times, taken aback. He gracefully takes one of your hands from behind his neck and lifts your arm above your head to twirl you. For a moment, his eyes appreciate the airy swirl of the hem of your dress.

“I’m only pretending to be your boyfriend”, everything else feels a little too real, he wants to add. Maybe you’ll read the unsaid in eyes he can’t seem to be able to keep on anything else but you.

“You have a gift”, with a smile, you choose to deflect, “ever thought of giving up the soccer career?”.

“For this, you mean?”, Oliver goes from having his hands on your hips to hooking his arms around your waist, effectively caging you against him. Your forehead grazes his and the wind is swiftly knocked out of your lungs at the sudden proximity.

“Something like that, yeah”, one of your hands toys with his green strands once more, nails lightly scratching the back of his neck. A sound of contentment vibrates low in his throat and it makes you want to pull him close, impossibly closer.

He tilts his head to the side and you feel dizzy because his lips are ever so slightly brushing against yours. Not quite touching them, never kissing them, just there as a faint reminder or rather an intoxicating promise.

“You have to go in about five minutes”, you whisper, perhaps for the sake of feeling more of his mouth so close yet still too far from your own.

“Mm?”, he only manages to let out a confused sound.

You let your nose brush against his own. Playfully, daringly.

“I could only afford a couple hours, not the entire night”.

Oliver welcomes the implications of your admission with a low chuckle.

“And if I stay?”.

“I may be too broke for that”.

He presses a kiss to the very corner of your mouth. Sweet, fleeting. Determined.

“My treat”.

He can keep it platonic for about five more minutes.

IMPATIENT.

𝓢.ㅤ he had everything planned out but how's he supposed to wait when it comes to you?

PSHㅤ୨୧ ⠀ femreader⠀ . . .ㅤ fluff, established relationship, sunghoon pov, awkward ending oops idk how to end stuff, this is a repost cos i accidentally deleted it a while agoㅤ1147 words

sunghoon often gets overwhelmed by his feelings for you. sometimes the love he feels gets to be so intense that he doesn't know what to do, losing the ability to think rationally about anything that has to do with you.

he knew right away that he wanted to be the one to marry you but he held back for the four years and eight months that you dated, waiting until you talked about marriage first. you'd brought it up to him one morning, a simple conversation. one he replayed for weeks.

during those weeks he planned everything; his proposal. he bought a ring, bought tickets to paris (jake's idea—city of love and all that), booked a really nice hotel, and he had a whole itinerary for the day he planned on proposing. he's pretty sure he's going to be in debt for the rest of his life because of these expenses but it's worth it.

when he brought up the trip to you he simply played it off as something for your five year anniversary, it was close enough to the date so you didn't think much of it. five years was a long time so why wouldn't you do something special?

so on thursday morning, you rush to the airport because someone (sunghoon) didn't want to leave your embrace yet. thankfully, you made it on time, sunghoon holding tightly onto your hand to make sure he doesn't lose you in the crowd.

it takes fourteen hours to get from seoul to paris and another hour to drive to the hotel. the flight was.. okay. as good as a flight can be but god was it tiring, you don't think you and sunghoon have ever been as happy as you were to see a bed until tonight.

the next day you take it easy, spending most of it inside your hotel room, briefly stepping out to get dinner at some restaurant nearby. you're walking back, hands swinging back and forth slightly.

"what're we doing tomorrow?"

sunghoon hums, "it's a surprise,"

you knock your shoulder against his, "can i have a hint?"

"nope,"

you groan, throwing your head back while sunghoon smiles fondly at you. he loves you, he knows that. today, though, it feels like it's bigger than love. a lot bigger. you haven't even done anything significant today; it was practically just a regular day. okay, other than the fact that you were at a hotel in paris, but he ignores that part.

honestly, he isn't sure if there's a word deep enough to describe how he feels for you. it feels like he's drowning, sinking deeper and deeper every second that he spends with you and he's okay with that. more than okay; he's happy.

he wants to make you happy, too. he wants to spend the rest of his life seeing your smile and your laugh. he feels a slight wave of anxiety wash over him—what if he messes everything up? what if his proposal turns out to be awful?

he sighs, shaking those thoughts out of his head, instead focusing on you whine about how you need him to tell you what the surprise is. he just laughs at you, pulling out the key to the hotel room.

"i'll tell you tomorrow when we wake up, okay?"

"or now," you smile up at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. his hands instinctively go to your waist.

"i can't, baby,"

"i'm gonna stay up all night thinking about this,"

he leans down, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, "yeah, i'm sure you will,"

you don't stay up all night. in fact, you fall asleep almost right away, probably still exhausted from yesterday's flight. sunghoon wishes he could fall asleep as easily as you, but he can't. not when he's proposing to you tomorrow. the presence of the ring hidden inside his suitcase is too suffocating, it's like he can feel it in his hands already.

he pulls you closer to his chest, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. he really hopes that tomorrow will be your last day as simply boyfriend and girlfriend.

he falls asleep after you but he wakes up before you. he's glad that he did because it gives him the opportunity to stare at you. he likes when he wakes up before you; it gives him the chance to see you at your most peaceful, when all the stress from your life is missing.

he shifts, cupping your cheek with his hand, rubbing small circles against your skin. he stares at you for a few seconds longer before leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

"g'morning,"

he smiles against your skin, "morning, baby. did i wake you up? i'm sorry,"

you groan, pulling away from him so that you can rub your eyes, "no, i was already awake,"

he hums and you sit up, stretching your arms out.

"i didn't forget about the surprise, by the way," you glance towards him, "tell me, pretty please,"

he's quiet when he speaks, licking his lips, "i love you,"

"i know you do. i love you too. is that your surprise?" you lay back down, the two of you facing each other.

"will you marry me?"

he doesn't think before asking you. it forces its way out of his mouth, not giving him any choice in the matter. at first he doesn't care, but soon you can practically see him go though all five stages of grief.

"wait, wait, wait," he presses his hand over you mouth when you begin to speak, "don't say anything. i—god, let me ask you for real. i want it to be special, not something i say randomly,"

you listen to him patiently, waiting for him to stop before pulling his hand away from your mouth, "that was special, silly,"

he gives you a dirty look, "uh, no. i don't think me proposing to you in a hotel bed is special,"

"i think so. it's like.. you really couldn't wait to ask me,"

"i couldn't wait,"

"and i can't wait to answer you,"

he stares at you, taking in your expression. you're smiling at him, a soft smile that he hasn't seen from you before. it's different than all your other smiles, he doesn't know why. this one feels like you can understand the feeling that he has for you; something way beyond love.

"will you marry me?"

you giggle, a grin breaking out onto your face, "can i answer this time?"

he nods.

"mhm, i'll marry you,"

"thank you,"

"you don't have to thank me,"

he smiles, "yeah, i do. thank you for letting me into your life all those years ago and thank you for letting me stay in it," he leans forward, pressing his lips against yours, "i love you more than love."

note. idk why i deleted this hello ... i think i hated it that's why LMAOOO

delicate | nishimura riki

౨ৎ ## love so delicate like yours, synopsis: you've realized how far you've gotten with your boyfriend now that both of you are adults.

includes: 1.9k words | soft fluff | yn is anxious asf but riki comforts them | we love reassurance | movie notebook reference 😎 | yn got a tattoo and it makes riki fall in love with them more 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

extra: at this point, all of the members are taylor swift coded | soft love is the best love | yn is me because im also 18 and i dont wanna pay taxes D:

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

you sighed as you laid yourself flat against the blankets. you smiled in delight as if your troubles and worries left you. 

“school’s over.” you said, feeling your chest heavy. you recalled the school memories that you’ve experienced; both happy and sad, now that you’re taking the next chapter of your life; college. 

it’s leaving a bittersweet feeling on your whole body. 

“it is.” you looked over your shoulder, to see your boyfriend, riki fiddling with his yearbook. his fingers spotted towards the back of the book, heartfelt messages and inspiring words that his friends wrote for him. 

you’re in riki’s backyard, inside of a treehouse both of you built since children with the help of your parents. you’re so lucky your dad is a constructor. 

riki is sitting, one leg sticking out and one knee bent as he leans into the wooden walls. this position allows you to admire him from below as the sunlight flashes on his beautiful features. 

he’s reading every single message with sincerity and care, from his senior friends that he will probably never see again and his younger juniors that he can’t annoy anymore. 

“i can’t believe we’re gonna be college students now. where we have to pay off debts, start our career paths, those people who are gonna be closer to 20 than 16 - it’s just,” you took in a breath. “surreal. surreal that we are growing up.”

you had always had a fear of growing up. not wanting to achieve the things and goals you’ve planned on time. you felt like you’re rushing to do everything at once before it becomes too late. you always wanna stay 16 forever; forever naive to understand the real world. how you’re closest friends will separate from you. how everything you’re experiencing right now will be just a memory. 

riki glanced down on you where you’re staring off of space. he can sense the anxiety in your tone. 

he closes the book after he was staring at a picture. a picture titled, “best couple” and it’s a picture of the both of you standing next to each other, smiling widely. he scooted himself, making himself comfortable once he lays down next to you. his back lays flat, mimicking your position. 

“are you scared?” riki likes to question the obvious, but it helps you reflect on your feelings; how fear is just a feeling.

“just a little anxious just all,” you confessed, looking at riki whose eyes never left yours. “i’m sure it will disappear soon. i mean, everyone experiences this.” you reassure yourself and riki sense it. 

“mhm,” riki mumbles. “it’s okay to feel anxious, the future is scary.” he looks down. “it’s only a matter of time how you’re gonna handle it. you create your own future.” 

his words ring in your head. he’s right.

riki took your silence as a way that you agree with him. 

he then glanced down towards your arm, a black-inked drawing that attracted him. riki scooted closer, his body turned to yours. he propped himself up with his elbow.

no matter how close the proximity is between the both of you, it still makes you nervous til this day. especially with how much older and mature-looking your boyfriend of 6 years is. 

“your parents aren’t mad about this?” riki gently poked on your arm, eyes analyzing the beauty that you’ve decided to put on your arm. 

it’s beautiful, he thinks. 

“not anymore, i’m 18 now.” you huffed out. you remembered the horror on your parents’ faces but a sigh of defeat when they realized you’re now responsible of yourself. it makes you chuckle their panicked expressions, but it made them realize that you’re not gonna be their little 4 year old reckless daughter anymore. 

“i can imagine your mom shrieking.” riki giggled which made you scoffed because he wasn’t wrong. 

“your birth flower?” riki asked, his fingertips gently tracing the traces of your birth flower. 

your eyes widened a bit at his sudden touch then you looked down at how focused riki was. his eyes were staring at it as if your tattoo was a museum. 

your heart beat quickened at the sight. 

“the flower that i drew for you in your math notebook in 6th grade.” riki smiled, realizing how much time flies since you guys called it official since middle school. you’ve remembered the nervousness riki’s hands were fiddling when he made a bouquet of origami flowers that he made each week that he fell in love with you. you thought it was silly. riki has always been caring and kind to you so it was natural for you to reprociate the feelings back. 

“i thought you threw your old notebooks away..” his voice still remains soft and delicate, still smiling at your tattoo.

“i ripped the page and kept it since.” when you were going into your freshman self, you looked back into the notebooks to reminsince your middle school memories. you’ve came across a drawing — no other than riki’s in your notebook. you ripped it out and hid it in a safe spot until you get a tattoo of it ever since.  

some people thought you guys weren’t gonna make it past middle school — even you too, but since both of you got in the same highschool, it is still strong. a strong string holding your relationship tight. yes, with hormones acting up and puberty getting in the way, there were times where you guys had fought and argued together to the point it was nearing breaking apart but both of you shouldn’t let it slide. not when it has reached this far. 

although your boyfriend has grown up, there are occasionally times where he teases you and becomes childish around you, it makes you reminsince how he still has a soul of his 12-year old self. especially moments where he look similar to a duck, which made you think about how much duck plushies you have on your bed because it reminds you of riki. 

you’re happy that you’re growing up with him.

“a penny for your thoughts?” 

you gasped lightly, realizing that you’re spacing out. you looked at him and you see a small smirk implemented on his face, curious of what your pretty head is thinking of.

your face relaxes, trying to calm yourself. you’re nervous over nothing.

you looked down at your hands, then glance at riki’s hand comfortably resting, then back to your hands. your fingers slowly creep upon riki’s fingers, slowly rubbing them with yours. you smiled at the sight.

“it’s insane to think about how much we’ve grown.” you paused. “together.”

riki’s eyes looked at the sight, his heart beat echoing and growing louder. no matter what you do, you always make him think irrational. he then glances at you smiling when you’re playing with his fingers. “not many people believed in us lasting this long, not even me. i was worried if one of us lost feelings, found someone else better, or get something in our way, but im glad that we didn’t give up.” you looked at riki where his attention was diverted to you. he raised an eyebrow to indicate that he was listening.

“i’m happy that i’m dating you, i can’t express how much i adore you, how much you mean to me, i’ve never felt love this strong before — you’re just everything to me. i can’t imagine laughing harder than with anyone else, smile so much with anyone else. with you, it’s different. thank you for loving me.” 

you’re cringing on the inside at how much you confessed in such a short amount of time. you’re met with silence from your boyfriend who seem atonished from your words. you’re embarrassed, pulling back your fingers to cover your blushing cheeks in front of your boyfriend.

riki’s lips twitched, happy for you to express your feelings more comfortably now compared to the past situations. (one of the reasons that you’ve guys argued before) his chest felt light, his grin becoming bigger when you’re hiding from him.

you hear the blankets rustled, you felt riki’s arm slowly snake around your arm to remove your hand from your face. you removed your embarrassed hands and your eyes followed his hand clasping onto yours. the sight of his veiny hands makes you silent.

you admire the two of you holding hands. your stomach was feeling butterflies just as it was the first time riki confessed his feelings to you. riki twists your wrist, allowing you to see the sight from all angles. it looks so perfect. your hand perfectly structured to hold his. 

“you’re just as perfect as to what i am seeing right now.” riki spoke with a soft tone, chuckling when he kept twisting and turning your wrist. “you have a place in my heart no one else could ever have. my heart is so full of you i can hardly call it my own. i choose you. and i’ll choose you over and over. without a pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat, i’ll keep choosing you. as long as i’m alive, you will always be loved.”

you’re speechless at your boyfriend’s words to the point you feel like crying. riki still kept smiling at you, giggling. you saw the crescents formed in his eyes whenever he smiled at you and it never fails to make yourself love him more.

riki took this opportunity to lift himself up, hovering above you. he pecked your forehead. you felt his warm lips touching your skin and the goosebumps always forms whenever he makes you flustered.

you looked up at him, surprised. he looked down at you with his head tilted and a scrunched nose like a puppy, as if he was proud to do that.

nothing but an exchange of loud heart beats matching with one another and genuine giggles back and forth. 

riki then leaned in towards you. you closed your eyes at the expected action. his lips touching with yours. electricity flows when he rubs his fingers on your hands. it always make you feel all tingly on the inside. 

riki then pulls back, “cute.” he teases you, making your cheeks grow hotter. “shut up.” you rolled eyes, earning a little laugh from him.

riki still doesn’t let go of your intertwined hands as he returns to his original position where you’re laying flat on the ground, shoulder to shoulder. 

“so your summer plans?” riki asked casually. he lifted his head as his arm was under his head to act as support.

you then touched your bangs, realizing that you still have that caramel-like highlights since march. you were starting to get bored of it.

you pursed your lips. “maybe dye my hair next week back to black.” 

riki’s eyes shined. “match with me.” he spoke without thinking. you turned your head to him, realizing that his hair is black now. 

your boyfriend likes it alot when both of you match. 

“if you bleach it next month to some color then what?” you pointed out because sometimes your boyfriend makes impulsive decisions on his hair whenever he sees a cool hairstyles. you’re not angry whenever he does this because he’s good looking with whatever hair color he has.

“i won’t bleach it, i promise. i’ll follow you.” riki spoke and it makes you chuckle that he probably doesn’t realize the importance of his words. “red? blue? silver, i’ll do it for you.” you froze at his sudden deep voice erupting from him. your heart beat also freezes when his lips touches the location of your tattoo. you looked down and see his lips pushed forward. your heart flutters once again.

“you’re dumb.” you spoke, eyes softening at what you were hearing. 

gosh, you really love this man.

riki smiles against your skin, looking up and your heart twists at an umfamiliar sight. “i can be that.”

❛ 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ❜ — PSH

SUMMARY. Sunghoon doesn’t realise just how much he craves — how much he needs — your presence until it’s no longer there.

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre. angst with comfort, fluff, one shot, friends to lovers

word count. ~ 4-5k

notes. inspired by this prompt here 🤩🤩 i’m so sorry it took so long to do i totally forgot about it 😭 BUT here is the friends to lovers with sunghoon 😮‍💨. ( gif divider by @cafekitsune )

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ one. 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

“SORRY, EXCUSE ME! COMING THROUGH!”

You stumbled across the ice rink like a newborn fawn, following no clear path, relying solely on your waving arms to keep you upright. Skaters passing by gave you a wide berth as you sped forward. Children watched as you flew by. 

You should have expected that you’d eventually ram straight into someone. You just weren’t expecting it to be him of all people.

“Ow...” you winced as you lifted your back off the ice. When you spotted a boy across from you, you gasped and immediately got up (or, at least, as fast as you could with your level of skill, anyway). “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

The boy barely looked affected, as if he was used to the sensation of falling. “I’m fine,” he responded quietly, before standing. It was like he didn’t just have a fully-grown teenaged girl slam into him.

It was that moment you got a good look at his face.

Park Sunghoon, the so-called ‘Ice Prince’ of Hybe High. 

He had a… reputation, one could say. With a face that seemed carved from marble and an aura that left one guessing, it was no wonder why he had so many girls pining after him. Paired with his status as an accomplished athlete—a figure skater at that—it didn’t take a genius to know how he had earned his title.

Except, things weren’t usual all that simple, were they?

Park Sunghoon was an ‘Ice Prince’ in every definition of the word: not only did he reign supreme on the rink, he also had a knack for driving people away with his cold stare and even colder tone of voice. (Or so, the rumours went.)

It was just your luck, you supposed, that you had to bump into him.

He won’t be mad, would he? You fretted. 

But to your surprise, he was just the opposite.

Instead of telling you to “Get lost” (okay, you had to admit you only had your mangas to blame for this expectation) or to “Watch where you’re going” (again— the mangas), he actually held out a hand to you.

“Are you okay?”

In that moment, you were glad you were on the ground, because there was no way you like stay upright if Park Sunghoon looked at you the way he was now while standing.

You were already hyper aware of his physical attractiveness after seeing him from school. But those minor glimpses you’d get of him during class (when he wasn’t absent for figure skating training) or from across the hall did no justice to his face up close.

As he looked down at you, eyes full of concern, and a ray of light shining down on him, you couldn’t tell if he was real or—as cliche as it sounded—an Angel from above.

Oh, have mercy on my soul, you thought. You hesitantly reached out to accept his outstretched hand— and, wow, how was it that his hands were just as beautiful as his face?

As he gently lifted you from the floor—no, really, he had basically pulled you up with his strength alone—you felt your cheeks heat up, despite the cold of your surroundings.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone of voice nothing like what you’d heard from your gossiping classmates.

“Yeah, I’m okay!” you squeaked.

In your embarrassment, you quickly tried to pull your hand away from his. But just as you did, you faltered and almost planted on your butt… again. Out of reflex, you immediately reached out to the closest thing to you.

And of course, at that moment, the closest thing happened to be one Park Sunghoon.

You didn’t know what was more surprising: that he actually let you hold on to him, or the fact that he put an arm around your waist to stabilise you. Just like that, the two of you remained staring at each other. The world around you was full of movement and chaos, but in that moment everything came to a stand still.

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks.  

That’s it, you thought. I’m dead. He’s killed me.

Sunghoon’s ears started to redden at the tips as you continued to stare at each other. After a moment, he awkwardly removed his arm—though not too fast that you would topple down—and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah…” Sunghoon chuckled shyly. “Sorry about that.”

He offered you a smile.

His resting face was a sight in itself. But the sight of his smile, the small dimple that it revealed, and small fangs that peeled out from his mouth, had your heart spiralling out of control. If your classmates saw him now, there was no way they could call him cold. (And no way they would be able to resist him.)

“I should be the one apologising…” you giggled. “Or rather, I should be thanking you, I guess— you saved me from potentially embarrassing myself more than I already have. I guess skating isn’t really my thing.”

Before Sunghoon could say anything you smiled at him. “But you’re really good. I’ve seen you quite a few times.”

It was about a month ago: your younger sibling decided that they wanted to take up ice hockey, and joined the local club. Since your parents were busy during some of their practices, you ended up chaperoning them. Simple enough, but boring.

Until you witnessed something magical.

You happened to look over to the side, just in time to catch a skater launch into the air. You watched in awe as the skater spun mid-air, before landing elegantly in the ice below— leg extended backwards, gliding like a swan across a lake.

You were definitely oversharing at this point, but you had already shared an awkward moment together. What was another on top of it?

You were half expecting Sunghoon to seem weirded out by your confession. But in fact, he didn’t seem surprised at all.

“I know,” he replied. 

You blinked at him. “Sorry?”

As it turned out, you weren’t as slick as you thought.

Apparently, Sunghoon had known for a while no that you were an avid fan of his, and knew who you were as a result. But you couldn’t really find it in you to complain, seeing as it brought you closer to the boy. Who would have known that you would end up drinking hot chocolate with the Ice Prince Park Sunghoon as if you were best buddies.

“You know, it’s kind of funny how this is our first time talking despite knowing each other for so long.”

You had been attending the same school together for a year, and had quite a few classes together. But you’d never even uttered a hello to each other before. Now, here you were.

Sunghoon chuckled shyly. You decided right then and there that you would never grow tired of seeing his smile—the dimples, fangs, and all.

“I’m not a very social person,” he admitted, looking down at his lap. His ears were flushed red, his fingers tapping against the styrofoam cup that held his hot chocolate. “I’ve never been good at making friends… especially with girls.”

To say you were surprised at the confession was an understatement. There was no way you’d imagine that Park Sunghoon of all people—who people would say was as cold as the ice he skated on—was just… well, shy!

“Wow, really? That’s a surprise…” you took a sip from your hot chocolate.

Sunghoon hummed. “It probably would be to someone like you… You’re so social and you get along with everyone. You have so many friends…”

You raised your eyebrows. Were you dreaming or did Sunghoon say that with a twinge of envy? Him? Envy you? That was a completely foreign thought. (There was also the fact that he somehow observed you enough to know you were a social butterfly who got along with everyone— but that didn’t bother dwelling on that fact for too long.)

“Well, you’re not bad at making friends either,” you assured the boy, patting his shoulder. “I mean you managed to talk to me, right?”

Sunghoon blinked. “I guess you’re right...” He turned to you with a shy smile. “But you’re pretty easy to talk to, so that’s probably why.”

“So, you’re saying I don’t count, huh?” You asked teasingly.

Sunghoon shook his head. “No! That’s not what I meant…”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, I know what you mean.” You took another sip of your hot chocolate before looking at him. “In that case, why don’t we just make it official?”

Sunghoon cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You smiled.

“Let’s be friends.”

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ two. 𝙞 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

ONE DAY, IN A STRETCH OF BOREDOM, YOU QUICKLY PULL OUT YOUR PHONE TO SEARCH FOR SUNGHOON’S CONTACT.

Perhaps you were coming off a little strong, considering you two have only been friends with each other a week by now. But you really couldn’t help yourself. Something about him was so endearing to you. Especially when he made that confession the

You flopped onto your bed and opened up your messages.

You: hey!!! how are you going?? hope you’re doing okay! You: but anyway! just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up before school tomorrow? 👀

You tilted your head. Does this seem too clingy?

You quickly added another text to the first one.

You: i thought it would be nice since we have class together

You bit your lip as you watched the screen, waiting for the typing bubbles to appear. When the ‘read’ notification popped up, you felt your heart quicken. But seconds turned into minutes and he still hadn’t said anything back.

You pouted. Did I use too many exclamation marks?

Dropped your phone, you turned to lie on your side. You just hoped you hadn’t come off as too familiar— after all, the last thing you wanted to do was hold the poor guy victim. You wondered if he thought you were strange…

But just as you were debating whether to send another text (‘Or not! It’s cool if you don’t want to!’), your phone pinged. You instantly sat up.

Ice Prince: no problem Ice Prince: sounds good

You stared. You blinked. Then you burst out laughing. 

He’s a bit of a dry texter, isn’t he? You thought. Now that, I saw coming.

If he were one of your long-time friends, you would have spammed him with random questions. (As the extrovert of your group, you usually found yourself carrying the conversations.) But, seeing as you’ve only really known him for a few days, you decided to have mercy on him.

Until you would eventually fill his world with chaos.

You: yay!! see you then!! ☺️ You: oh and goodnight by the way!

You smiled when you saw his reply.

Ice Prince: See you Ice Prince: Goodnight

You giggled to yourself as you closed your messages with Sunghoon and began to text your other friends. At that moment, you had another goal to add on to your list of things to do.

Mark my words, Park Sunghoon! you thought to yourself resolutely. One day, I will get you to use an emoji!

You greeted the next morning like a new friend.

You had nothing but good dreams the night before. And now, you were properly rested for a day of school—and, of course, hanging out with your new friend Sunghoon! If your parents noticed anything about your chipper mood, they didn’t say anything. But regardless of their odd looks, you didn’t care.

Nothing was going to bring you down from cloud nine.

You hummed as you grabbed your phone off the bench, bidding your family goodbye as you rushed out the door. Just then, you got a notification.

Ice Prince: I’ll be at the benches behind X block

You smiled as you flicked back a text.

You: okey!! I’m on my way to school now! so see you soon! ☺️

With that you skipped away. You couldn’t think of any other day where you had been so excited to go to school—if there ever was one, to begin with. You found yourself enjoying every little thing around, not taking it for granted: the buzz of the morning rush, the feeling of sunlight on your skin, the sight of freshly fallen flowers lining your path.

Today was such a good day. And it only got better when you caught a glimpse of a certain someone from a far.

How does he look so good just sitting there? you wondered.

You observed the way the sunlight managed to reflect off of him at just the right angles to illuminate his features and the wind gently brushed through his locks in a way you suddenly wanted to try for yourself. It seemed some people were just born to be loved by nature. And Park Sunghoon was one of them.

When you finally managed to shake yourself from your reverie, you bounced up to the boy, who didn’t seem to feel your eyes on him. (You supposed he was used to the sensation.)

Feeling mischievous you decided to approach him from behind. Taking quiet steps, you felt yourself smile as you got closer. Then, before he had the chance to realise your presence, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“Boo!”

Sunghoon jolted in his seat. He whipped around to face you, confusion over his features. Then—at the expense of your heart—his lips slowly curled into a smile.

“You’re here?” he said. “You could have just yelled out to me, you know?”

You giggled. “That’s not as fun!” Without waiting for an invitation, you plopped yourself down next to him. “So! What are we doing?” You tilted your head up to the sky to mimic the position he was sitting in before you disturbed him. “Are we cloud-gazing?”

“Huh?” Sunghoon blinked. He shook his head. “No. I was just thinking.”

You blinked back at him. The two of you blinked at each other, before you found yourself bursting into laughter. “Pfft—”

“You were ‘just thinking’?” you repeated with a smile.

Sunghoon nodded, causing you to laugh even more. “Why?” he asked, confused as to what it was he said that you found so funny. “What is it?”

“I mean, it’s just… who does this—” (You posed melodramatically, like a character on a movie poster.)  “—when they’re just thinking?”

“Ishhhh…” Sunghoon scrunched his nose, before standing up. His hands were balled into cute fists as he looked down at you. “Yah! How can you tease me like this? Huh?”

But his little ‘reprimand’ did nothing but make you giggle even more. For someone who was known as an ‘Ice Prince’, he had a lot of adorable habits.

“Okay, okay.” You patted him on the arm, trying your best to ignore how muscular they felt under your hand. “I know, so calm down now, yeah?”

Sunghoon sat down beside you, and the two of you enjoyed a moment of silence.

“By the way…”

You turned to face Sunghoon. “Yeah?”

You noticed that Sunghoon hadn’t lifted his head to look at you, instead lowering his head to hide the blush forming across his face. At that moment, your heart melted, endeared by the sight of him.

“I was thinking… did you want to walk home with me after school?”

Your eyes widened. But seconds later, you smiled.

“Sounds good!”

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ three. 𝙞 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

TIME PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE. Days flew by, then weeks, and then a month. And during that time, you only grew closer to your friend Sunghoon. Sunghoon, who you could now barely remember what it was like before meeting him.

You never would have thought you’d be attached to the hip with the infamous ‘Ice Prince’, but here you were, walking among a crowd of eager-to-leave students, shoulders almost touching with how close you stood together.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little slip of joy when Sunghoon had been the one to ask you first. And now, you two had made it a tradition of sorts to walk home together every day.

You hadn’t ever needed someone to walk you home before. But you would be a fool to turn down an offer from Sunghoon.

As such, you were planning to make the most of it.

“You got along with the others okay, didn’t you?” you asked, referring to the group of friends you had introduced to him today.

Sunghoon nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I even got Beomgyu’s number.”

You smiled cheerfully. At least it wasn’t Ning’s or Yunjin’s, you thought. You couldn’t really explain why, but you felt a little twist in your stomach at the thought of either of them (the only females, coincidentally) in his messages. It was an unwarranted feeling—one that you didn’t have any right to—but you couldn’t help it. 

Whatever it was, you would ponder it later. For now, you simply wanted to enjoy the scenery. Flower petals falling from the trees, twirling in the air as they fell gently to the ground, lining your path with pink omens of romance and love.

Ha, you thought, I think I’m getting delusional.

“I’m glad you got along well with them,” you said. “Look at you go— you’ve already gotten new friends with little to no effort required. You’re a lot more sociable than you think.”

Sunghoon looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Really?”

You nodded eagerly. “Of course!”

Sunghoon smiled gently. “You know, when I first met you, I thought you were kind of strange.”

You burst out laughing at the sudden admission. “Oh, really? And what about now?”

“Now?” Sunghoon hummed as if he was in deep thought. When he turned to you, there was a glint of mischief. “Now I realise… you really are pretty weird.”

You faked a scandalised gasp. Slapping the boy hard on the shoulder, watching as he started to laugh at your reaction, you couldn’t help but giggle. If he was teasing you, that meant he considered you to be comfortable enough to joke around with. So, you couldn’t be too annoyed at him.

Especially when those dimples of his poked out. 

Gosh I really am weak, aren’t I? you thought.

“It takes one to know one, dummy,” you responded.

Sunghoon chuckled. “Then I guess we’ll be weird together.”

Your eyes softened. If, right then and there, someone were to say you had honey dripping from them, you would believe them. Otherwise, there was no explanation for how bright and golden the boy in front of you appeared at that moment.

“Sure,” you said. “Together.”

Yes two of you walked in a comfortable silence for a few moments after. But you had decided at that moment that you wanted to delay your parting— even if just by a little bit.

“You mentioned that you don’t have training tonight, right?” you asked Sunghoon. The male nodded in response. “Well, there’s an arcade nearby that just opened recently. Wanna check it out?”

Sunghoon smiled, his fangs peeking out as he did. “Sure.”

“Cool.” You then surprised Sunghoon by bolting off. “Race you there!”

“Aish—!”

You giggled as you heard the boy curse before taking off after you. You didn’t care how many looks you got on the way. The sound of your laughter mixing together as you raced down the pavement was music to your ears.

Your new favourite song by far.

That afternoon, you had spent all of your time laughing in the arcade, spending hours like they were nothing but minutes, living solely in that moment. After several games against each other, you two found yourself before the claw machine, counting the last few of your tokens.

“Ahhhh!” You groaned in frustration when you missed the cat plushie you had your eyes set on for the last five minutes. “I just needed to get a little bit to the right!”

Sunghoon chuckled from beside you, watching as you almost tore your hair out. You had only meant to spend one or two tokens on the plush, but after gradually getting closer with each try, you insisted that you “might as well go all the way”… only for you to get nowhere at all.

Now you were tokenless and left feeling like you wanted to smash open the machine.

You sighed as you turned to Sunghoon. “Looks like I’m done for today,” you said with a laugh. “What do you want to do? You still have a few tokens left.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Move.”

You blinked as he gently nudged you aside so that he could get to the claw machine controls, wordlessly slipping a token into the coin slot.

“Ayeeee,” you drawled out, crossing your arms over your chest. “Didn’t you see me before? It’s obviously rigged. You shouldn’t waste your tokens on this.”

But it was too late. Sunghoon was already starting to operate the machine, a smile on his face as he nudged the claw so that it hovered over a penguin plush. You immediately perked up.

You wanted the penguin plush at first, but after seeing how difficult it would be to retrieve it from the corner that was stuck in, you chose to play your cards smart and opt for the cat plush. But while the car plush was much easier to get based on its position, you still failed. So the fact that Sunghoon boldly went after your first option piqued your interest — if not a little ire.

You meant down to his eye level, your heads bumping together slightly as you watched the claw make countless turns to get an optimal angle.

“Someone’s confident.” 

Just as you said that, Sunghoon hit the button. You watched as the claw descended, taking the penguin plushie up in a pinch, before slowly making its way over to the dropping bay. 

Imagine your surprise when the penguin made it all the way.

You gaped as Sunghoon retrieved his newly retrieved plush from the tray, before fluffing it right in front of your face.

“Wha— but how?” You stuttered out. “No way…”

Sunghoon simply laughed, his dimples poking out from the force of his smile.

“Confidence,” he replied.

You remained frozen in place, still unable to process what had just happened. But what shocked you most was what happened next. Before you could say anything, Sunghoon held out the plush, offering it to you with a tint of red blooming across his cheeks.

“Here,” he said. “You can have it.”

You blinked in surprise, an eruption of butterflies setting off inside your chest. Slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his as you took the penguin plush from his hands.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you said, using the nickname special only to the two of you.

“Like it?” he asked, watching as you softly squished the plush, your eyes filled with wonder.

You held the plush to your chest. You smiled at him and nodded.

“I like it.”

I like you.

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ four. 𝙞 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

PEOPLE OFTEN CALLED SPRING THE SEASON OF ROMANCE. Of pink flower petals, pink as the cheeks of lovesick youths; of blossoming love, nurtured by the warm encounters shared between two people hopelessly lost in each other’s orbit.

But not everyone was meant to experience that feeling for themselves. And you were one of them, it seemed.

“I like you.”

The words fell from your lips as easily as the petals of the cherry blossoms from the tree above you. His eyes widened at your sudden confessions, his head turning to face you, no longer occupied with watching the shifting clouds hanging over your heads.

Your voice is soft. Full of hesitance, yet honest all the same. But he doesn’t make a move to reciprocate. He could only stand there, frozen as the ice he held dear to himself.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe you should have gone on pretending that you didn’t feel anything for him. Pretend as if Park Sunghoon — one of your closest friends — didn’t make your heart burst like the kaleidoscope of colours at the storefront of a flower shop.

But there was no denying it. You couldn’t lie to yourself… and not to him, either.

“What?” he asked, his voice weak with shock.

You swallowed heavily, the weight of your words squeezing down on your chest.

“I like you,” you repeated. “I have for a long time now.”

You stood there for what seemed to be an eternity of silence. Sunghoon looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown, his shoulders tense. And at that moment, you probably already knew what was coming.

“I… I’m sorry.” Sunghoon lowered his head, unable to look at you. If you listened closely, you could hear the sound of shattered glass — the remnants of your heart breaking at his words.

You forced a smile, despite how much it pained you to do so. “It’s okay,” you said. “It happens… I just wanted to let you know.”

Sunghoon but his lip. “We can still be friends, though… right?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

That’s what you told him. But truth be told, you didn’t know how you could go on, acting like nothing had happened. Acting like you didn’t wish to be something more. And so, that afternoon, when you walked home alone — needing time to yourself to wipe the tears that fell down your cheeks as you mindlessly dragged yourself to your bed — you could only think of one thing.

That from this moment forth, you would do what needed to be done to save your own heart. Even if it meant breaking it at the same time. So when Sunghoon texted you later that night, budding you sweet dreams, you didn’t reply.

Unaware that his own heart was breaking just as much as your own.

Sunghoon stared at his message, waiting for the text bubbles to appear on your end, which would signal that you were about to respond. But as minutes passed — and soon, an hour — and there was no sign of reciprocation on your end, he finally turned off his phone and dropped it on his pillow.

He sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair.

Your confession had completely caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected that you felt anything more for him than friendly affection, considering how easily you endeared yourself to others. How easily you smiled, how easily you made others laugh, how easily you broke down any walls around their hearts….

Himself included.

But he didn’t know what it was that he felt for you. For a long time, he barely had any friends to call his own — acquaintances maybe, but never friends. And then you came out of nowhere, literally crashing into his life, with the bold proclamation of being his friend within hours of knowing him.

He didn’t know how you did it. How you made him so curious about you that he woke up every morning waiting for your texts, or anticipating the sight of your smile.

He didn’t know what you were doing to him. But he didn’t want it to change. He wanted you to always be there with him, to share all his moments with him, small or big, good or bad. But now…

One last time, Sunghoon checked his phone.

No answer.

He closed his eyes. He hoped with all his heart that this was temporary. That tomorrow morning, when he woke up, he would see your name as a notification, bidding him good morning with that smiley emoji you seemed to favour so much.

He hoped — more desperately than words could say — that he didn’t just lose you forever.

But he started to see the signs.

The next morning, he didn’t hear a word from you. When he got to school to your usual meet up spot, you were nowhere to be seen. And when he got to class, taking his seat next to your empty desk, imagine his surprise when he found out you weren’t coming to school.

“She said she was feeling sick,” Yunjin told him, surprised. “She didn’t tell you?”

No. You didn’t. And Sunghoon didn’t know what was worse — that he was the only one who didn’t know, or that he was the only who knew the real reason why you weren’t there.

You were avoiding him. And it only became obvious when things continued the next, and the next day after…

Slowly, but surely, you were slipping from his grasp.

Slowly but surely, he was losing you.

One day, he realised, you would stop being there altogether. One day, you would go on and find new people to surround yourself with. New people to tease, new people to spam with cute texts, new people to go to the arcades with…

And a new person to like. Perhaps, more than him.

Sunghoon felt sick at the thought of you with someone else. The thought of you confessing to them the way you did to him. And he was starting to realise why.

“Hey, Yunjin.”

Sunghoon stopped by the girl’s desk as soon as the bell rang.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked curiously. 

Sunghoon pointed at the notes she was currently on the middle of putting away in her bag. The notes she was asked to copy down and give to you so you could catch up from home.

“Those are for her, right?”

At your house, buried under your covers, you had no idea of what was happening. Completely oblivious to the desperate boy on his way to your house, running as if his life depended on it, you curled into a ball, your limbs feeling too weak to leave the cocoon you made for yourself on your bed. 

A knock on your bedroom door causing you to lift your head.

“What?” you asked in irritation.

“Don’t you know how to check your phone?” Your older brother, Heeseung asked. “One of your friends from school is here saying that they were meant to give you your catch up notes. But you weren’t answering.”

You sat up in your bed. Checking your phone, you saw several missed calls from Yunjin. You groaned. You quickly texted an apology before kicking your sheets off your figure and rushing to the bathroom to fix your appearance.

Despite having taken a shower not too long ago, you still looked utterly miserable, and the wetness of your hair only added to the drowned rat look you were sporting, with your oversized white tee shirt and old gym shorts.

You sighed as you quickly fixed your hair as best you could. Hopefully, Yunjin wouldn’t care too much.

You trudged to your door, slamming it open to see Heeseung standing there with raised eyebrows.

“Are you sure you wanna go down looking like that?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Who cares? It’s just Yunjin.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “When did I say—?”

But before Heeseung could finish, you were already pushing past him. You really didn’t have time for his nagging, especially when he had already been doing it for the last few days, urging you to get out of your room and even trying to drag you out by force. He might have thrown you into the back of the car to drive you away from home — where you had been locked up for days now — to go anywhere with fresh air if it weren’t for your mother scolding him.

With a tired sigh, you made your way downstairs. Since both your parents weren’t home, it was completely quiet, and you could hear your footsteps echo as they padded across the tiled floors of the kitchen to your front door.

You cleared your throat as you opened the door.

“Hey, Yun—“ your eyes widened when you saw who was at the door. “Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon smiled tiredly, panting, his shoulders rising and falling as if he had just ran a mile.

“Hey.”

You gaped.

“I— what— why—?” You couldn’t even make out words in your shock. At that moment, you remembered what Heeseung said about your appearance and gasped. “Wait, I’m not dressed—“

You almost closed the door in Sunghoon’s face. But before you could even move, he had already reached out to grab your arm pulling you to his chest. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his arms enveloping you, covering you in warmth.

“Hoon…?” you asked, your voice shaky.

Sunghoon took a deep breath. And only then, you realised he was crying.

“Hoon? What’s wrong?” you asked. You tried to pull away and look at his face, only for him to tighten his grip on you.

“I like you.”

You froze in place.

“What did you just say?”

Sunghoon took another shaky breath, his forms hovering as he held onto you as if you might disappear at any moment.

“I didn’t realise it until now… and I’m so sorry it took so long,” he whispered, his voice shaky and hoarse. “But I like you. I like you a lot. And when you were gone I missed you like crazy.”

He pulled away, looking you in the eyes.

Your heart hammered away in your chest. We’re you dreaming? Or did Sunghoon really just say he liked you — you, of all people. The whole time you spent lying in bed mourning your broken heart, he had been feeling the same way for you that you did for him?

“I…” your voice shook as you pulled away from the hug. You looked into his eyes, wet from tears. Those tears were from you, you realised. You did this to him. You made him cry. “I’m so sorry…”

Sunghoon sniffled, shaking his head. “It’s okay.” His hands, still shaking from his raging emotions, slowly made their way up your arms, before cupping your face. “Just tell me… please tell me you haven’t moved on.”

You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Never.”

“Then be mine,” Sunghoon whispered, almost as if he was praying.

You didn’t say anything in return. Instead, you pulled his tie down, so that his lips crashed against yours, fitting like two pieces on a jigsaw puzzle. You let your lips move against his own without any thought but the feel of his mouth on yours. Of the feeling of him holding you to him, like you belonged there on the first place.

And you did.

You were a fool to think otherwise.

A few minutes later — after Heeseung had chased Sunghoon away, claiming “kids should be in bed by now” — you lay on your bed to find a new message from Sunghoon.

Hoon: can’t wait to see you again

You giggled.

You: you only just left 😆

Hoon: i know just can’t help it

As you read his next message, a warm feeling wrapped around your heart.

Hoon: i miss you 🤍

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

reposting

free palestine 🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/58268669

synopsis: riki knows you better than anyone else. includes: bridgerton au (barely), a little women reference, confessions of love, pre-marital kissing (the scandal!), gross old men, arranged marriage notes: @hoes4hoseok i hope you enjoy my timothee chalamification of riki, this one's for you girl🩷

there’s a thin line between love and friendship. your mother says she was friends with your father before she ever learned to love him, never in the way the poets rave, but in a way that made her life easier. in her words, “a love match is as rare as a diamond, dear. you shouldn’t hold out hope of one should it ruin your debut.”

it’s a shame, you think, that you can love someone so deeply and yet there’s no guarantee they’ll share the sentiment, nor a chance to see if what you feel is dwindling infatuation or true unyielding devotion. it’s improper to explore your options, greedy to want more than expected, and childish to yearn for love. yet you do.

your debut season approaches fast, and with it, the heavy promise of your hand to baron mortimer weighs your heart down like an anchor keeping you from daydreaming of the things you had read and researched about love.  he’s wealthy, titled, and twice your age. he would give your family a more comfortable life, save you from the shame of becoming a spinster if you do not find another suitable match your first season, and seems to be respectable enough despite his intent to marry you, a soon-to-be debutante he set his eyes upon years ago. it’s unnerving, but your mother speaks of him without disdain, so you keep your anxieties about his character at bay.

unfortunately, your dearest friend plagues your mind just so. riki’s return from oxford approaches with the same swiftness as your debut. you dread the idea of no longer having the liberty to write to him or paint him when he’s a willing muse, as it would be improper to do so while promised to another. for that reason you have yet to write to him since your last letter a week ago, where in it you bid him the gentlest farewell you could to help ease the ache in your heart.

you aren’t sure if he even received it, as he has not written back, but you suppose it’s for the best.

at least you believe that until he’s before you with unkempt hair and a haunted look in his tormented gaze. 

“tell me it is not true.” he says, chest rising and falling as if he had run from oxford to mayfair on foot, though perhaps he had been traveling by carriage since he received the letter clutched between his fingers. “tell me you are not marrying that man.”

you are unsure of how to respond, your lips parting hut no words leaving them. you turn toward your ladies maid, who blinks wildly as she receives the message, placing your hairpin down and hastening out of the room past the viscount’s son. the door clicks and yet his gaze remains unyielding, you finally speak, “you are back early, mr nishimura.”

riki had always been exceedingly easy to read, only to you, he used to pout. this moment is no different, and you can see how hard it is for him to wrap his head around his title leaving your lips instead of his name, but he recovers enough to repeat himself, “tell me.”

you place a hand on your stomach, squeezed by a corset that you suspect is why you can’t seem to catch your breath, “i will not lie to you.”

his brows furrow, his teeth peeking from his plump lips as they part in disgust and frustration, “he is old.”

“yes, i am aware of lord mortimer’s age.” you say with a similar frustration on your tongue that is heavily withheld by your propriety, “my mother saw it pertinent i educate myself before our marriage.”

“you cannot marry him.” riki says, and the frustration in your blood blooms into something more, something worse.

“that is not your decision to make.” you state, mindlessly flattening invisible wrinkles in your dress as he takes a step closer, only for you to fortify the distance with one of your own in the same direction, “not any more than it is mine.”

“you…” he loses his words as his hand clenches and releases at his side like he longs to reach for you, “you do not want this.”

“what i want does not matter to my parents anymore than it should to you,” you state, attempting to tuck the loose strand of hair that your ladies maid hadn’t the time to fit into your updo behind your ear, only for it to fall right back into place against your cheekbone, “lord mortimer is wealthy, he will give me a comfortable life.”

“do you not deserve a happy one?” riki asks, and you feel the cracks in your chest widen. instinctively, you fight the tremble of your chin and the tug in your brow as tears attempt to fit through the open crevice of your act.

“no, don’t—“ you shake your eyes, turning away from him as your arms drop to your sides, “don’t do that. i have accepted my future, i do not need you planting doubts in my mind.”

“what use would planting them do when i can see they’ve already taken root far before i arrived here?” you overlook the step he takes, nor how large his stride is. he only takes one yet it makes all the difference, as he feels infinitely closer than before. just as you feared he would.

“stop it.” you say, masked inside a heavy exhale, yet a plea all the same. “you should be visiting with your sisters, i’m sure they missed you dearly—“

“don’t marry him.” he says, and you finally look at him.

“what?” you ask despite knowing exactly what he said, you want to hear him say it again to make sure it wasn’t in your head.

he shakes his head, taking another step closer, “don’t marry him.”

“you…” he doesn't have to explain what he means, your childish hopes of love that you’d hidden so deep in your conscience do so for him. your heart sings as his eyes flick between your own and then down the bridge of your nose and lower, but your mind refuses to bend as your heart does. you shake your head, shuffling back to salvage whatever distance you can, “no.”

“yes.” he responds in kind, dropping the letter and closing the distance between the two of you to grab your hands. his next words are paired with the act of him flattening your palm against his chest, keeping it there while he grasps the other in his much larger hand, “you can’t marry him.”

“you are being cruel.” you try to pull away, but his grip is firm and you know that if you meet his gaze you won’t be able to fight it anymore.

there’s a sickening silence as his thumb draws shapes on the back of your hand, you can feel his heartbeat. it’s strong, and its pace only feeds your own heart wanton promises of devotion you had only ever been told were too rare to expect in your lifetime, “tell me you do not want me.”

the suddenness of his demand lowers your guard for just long enough for your heart to find the upper ground and force your eyes into his sights, he repeats himself, “tell me you do not want me and i will leave you to marry lord mortimer.” his words are punctuated by the hand not holding yours to his heart grasping the side of your jaw, his thumb moving against your warmed cheek, “tell me and i will never speak to you again, just as you requested in your letter. you will never have to see me and i won’t—“

“i don’t want that.” the words leave your lips without warning, but it’s too late to take them back by the time they reach his ears. you shake your head, “i don’t—i don’t want to marry, i want to paint and read and—“

he listens as your supposed acceptance crumbles beneath his gaze, chest heaving under your palm. “—i want to do all of those things with you, i do. the baron has my parents under his wretched thumb and i cannot bear it, i cannot—“ a sharp inhale rakes your body, a mix of a sob and a desperate but fruitless attempt to regain composure, “i don’t want you to go away, i want you to stay here with me and—“

his lips meet yours with a firmness that sets your heart aflame, and when he pulls away just enough to look at you your heart finally lands the finishing blow in its fight against your mind. your hand lingers on his chest as the one he uses to keep it there moves to mirror its counterpart on the other side of your jaw.

you barely glance down at his lips before they’re on yours again, a welcome experience that you hope you can experience over and over until you’re utterly familiar, but now you're not sure how to reciprocate. the novels you’ve read did little to educate you on the experience, much less prepare you for it to occur with the boy you’d found yourself longing for through the years. 

the gasp you let out when his hand moves from your jaw to your waist to tug you closer is silenced by his lips attaching themselves to yours like he’d spent a lifetime wishing to taste you.

he pulls away, yet he doesn't seem keen on keeping the distance, his nose brushing yours as he promises, “i will speak to your parents—”

the mention of them has your guts turning painfully enough to rip you away from him, nausea hitting you like a bullet through your throat, “i should not have done that.”

“i kissed you—“ his statement does little to quell your sickness, and the wavering grate in your voice as you interrupt him is telling of that. “that changes nothing.” your fingers move to your hair, the pin keeping it in place falling to the floor as you tug, “i am ruined. forget marrying the baron, i cannot marry anyone.”

“was i not clear?” he asks, and when you look at him with frustrated reluctance he continues, “should i gut myself? place my heart in your hands to have you understand how you haunt me?”

“we cannot marry.” you say, bottom lip trembling, “i will not be a consequence of your actions. it is not your duty to marry me when i am the only one ruined.”

riki’s jaw shifts as if your words brought him only fury, “i do not care for duty, i care for you.” 

“you are young, riki. you are not expected to marry for at least—“

“i want to.” he states firmly, “you said you wanted me to stay, so i am staying. i will dance with you at balls. i will send flowers and call on you every morning. i will promenade alongside you for as long as it takes. i…”

he moves towards you, thumbs brushing away the tears under your eyes as his forehead meets yours, “i am yours, do with me what you will.”

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.