FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away.

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well.

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation.

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.”

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm.

“Drive safe.”

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long.

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them.

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash.

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another.

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people.

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another.

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life.

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day.

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life.

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up.

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since.

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb.

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own.

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time.

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning.

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes.

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist.

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.”

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.”

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.”

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.”

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?”

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.”

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay.

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft.

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this.

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.”

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh.

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.”

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position.

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you.

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.”

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.”

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him.

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.”

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you.

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.”

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist.

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door.

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys.

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off.

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car.

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp.

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling.

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile.

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.”

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried.

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.”

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment.

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him.

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him.

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck.

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs.

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over.

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use.

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.”

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.”

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.”

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.”

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone.

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.”

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face.

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.”

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose.

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you.

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat.

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy.

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.”

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.”

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh.

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head.

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it.

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.”

“If we wake up early enough.”

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.”

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep.

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

Tags

enhypen sunghoon rikidaze.tbr

More Posts from Rikidaze and Others

rikidaze

5 months ago

KINDRED — yang jungwon

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star taekwondo athlete and put them in front of a camera?

“Kindred” a student documentary. Pilot episode airing tonight on TVN 7PM KST.

PAIRING: athlete!jungwon x stucopres!fem!reader

FEATURING: enhypen, yunjin from lesserafim, ryujin and chaeryeong from itzy, chanelle from runext, beomgyu and taehyun from txt, wonyoung from ive, gunwook and gyuvin from zb1 etc.

GENRE: high school au, enemies to lovers, nerd x athlete, forced proximity, slice of life, coming of age, he fell first and harder, fluff, ANGST, teen drama, slow burn ish?

STATUS: completed! (01/09/2023 – 18/03/2024)

WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible attempt at humour, urban lingo, probably cringy, kys/kms jokes, depression jokes, sexual innuendos (nothing too inappropriate), depiction of violence, family drama, incorrect timestamps/information, no fixed faceclaims, not proofread etc.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: story concept is heavily inspired by the kdrama ‘our beloved summer’ other than that the storyline is completely original (or so i assume since i manifested this out from the crevices of my pea brain). chapters with ‘(hw)’ next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case y’all skip over it! as always, the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. lastly, if you do end up enjoying, please do like, comment (love reading your comments btw), and reblog so this can reach!

TAGS: #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau

TEASER

profile. one | two | three

episode 1 - ratatouille and the underdogs

episode 2 - one way ticket to university

episode 3 - do you take constructive criticism?

episode 4 - unsolicited but appreciated

episode 5 - the art of benevolence

episode 6 - taekwondo-anti

episode 7 - beating the mentally ill allegations

episode 8 - can’t help it, i’m a libra

episode 9 - operation we-don’t-really-hate-each-other (hw)

episode 10 - she’s an oscar award winning actress

episode 11 - someone like me (hw)

episode 12 - ‘female-lead-realising-the-bad-boy-isnt-actually-that-bad’ arc

episode 13 - 5 foot 9 garfield meets avatar

episode 14 - yn the heterosexual

episode 15 - the ynwon getting closer montage :p

episode 16 - to the moon and back

episode 17 - eat 2 left toes

episode 18 - you are approved! (hw)

episode 19 - asking for a friend

episode 20 - rediscovering won’s ability to love

episode 21 - beomgyu’s 99999 eq

episode 22 - ynwon get together or else >:(

episode 23 - “hate”

episode 24 - not all problems can be solved with a formula

episode 25 - H.O.M.E.W.R.E.C.K.E.R

episode 26 - collecting facebook milfs like pokémons

episode 27 - you were brighter than the moon (hw)

episode 28 - she's studious not stupid

episode 29 - the garden is full of surprises (hw)

episode 30 - weapon of mass destruction

episode 31 - the name above me (hw)

episode 32 - no offense but she’s a cockblocker

episode 33 - the bane of my existence (hw)

episode 34 - risky risky wiggy wigi this is an emergency

episode 35 - live my life on my terms (hw)

episode 36 - separation anxiety goes crazy

episode 37 - paparizzki

episode 38 - is it too late now to say Sorry?

episode 39 - everything will work out just the way you want it to (hw)

episode 40 (finale) - her entire being is loveable (written)

epilogue - kindred, signing off part 1 | part 2

bonus chapters!

yunjin x heeseung

i can fight

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rikidaze.tbr

1K notes View Post

rikidaze

5 months ago

CHESHIRE ! — Nishimura Riki

SYNOPSIS. Y/N Cheshire lived her life carefree. Being the daughter of the Cheshire Cat made her more inclined to not take anything seriously and to just have a little bit of fun in everything she does. Whether it was pulling pranks, sneaking up on people, or making jabs at her friends- Y/N kept a Cheshire’s smile on her face. Because of that, she just couldn’t take Chaehyun Cupid seriously when she claimed that Y/N had a crush on Riki Wonderland.

PLAYLIST. listen to cheshire’s soundtrack while reading!

PAIRING. Kitty Cheshire! Y/N × Alistair Wonderland! Riki

(not shipping kitty and alistair !)

GENRE. Ever After High AU, High school AU, Fluff, Slight Angst

WARNINGS. bad parental relationship, ooc riki, angst

WORD COUNT. around 18k

NOTES. ITS OUT!!! i’ve been working on this fic for months and i finally finished it😭😭💗 thank u @muhwaa my best friend my soulmate for life and my twin flame for motivating me to finish it <3 this is my first long fic so i hope i did it well !!!

1. Naps and feathers don’t mesh.

The lights around her felt brighter than usual, though Liz Lockes found herself in the starlight once again. It wasn’t that she was complaining- in fact, she rather enjoyed it. She felt a sense of solitude as the rest of the world seemed to fade as nothing else mattered.

Liz didn’t mean to fall asleep in the Enchanted Forest. While being in the forest didn’t freak her out much, as the Daughter of Goldilocks, it still felt like an absurd place to sleep. But she had an episode for her MirrorCast news show featuring some of the pixies that reside in the forest, and all the preparation along with the actual filming had made her rather sleepy. She thought that it wouldn’t be too harmful if she took a little rest by a tree. That rest turned into an hour long nap and although it was an accident, the nap had felt just right. Though, it wasn’t just right when she was awoken by a feather being wiggled above her sensitive nose.

How was that possible? She couldn’t see anyone actually holding the feather- was it some sort of a spell?

Liz felt her nose twitch ever so slightly before she finally sneezed. This caused the feather to fall onto her face, before she threw it onto the ground next to her. Barely awake, Liz didn’t feel it in herself to question what had just happened, so she stood up from the spot where she took her impromptu nap and began to leave the forest.

As she made it near the front, however, she spotted Y/N Cheshire curled up on the branch of a tree playing with a ball of yarn.

What was Y/N doing in the forest so late? Weird.

Liz found herself quite fond of the Cheshire Cat’s daughter and decided to make some conversation.

“Hey Y/N!” Liz waved. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N, who gazed at Liz with her cat-like eyes and unsettling smirk, let out a giggle. “Oh, I’m about to take a small catnap.”

A nap? At 9 P.M?

Liz thought it was interesting how alike Y/N was with her mother. Although most Ever After High students found themselves copying the mannerisms of their parents, there were the bunch that preferred not to follow their destinies and created personalities and hobbies for themselves. The latter, known as the Rebels, was a category that mostly students destined for evil or misfortune chose to fall into. But really, Rebels were just anyone who refused to follow their storybook ending. As someone who has a relatively simple destiny, it made sense for Y/N to be keen on following hers.

The blonde snapped out of her thoughts and turned back to Y/N. “That’s funny, I was just leaving from taking a nap of my own! Do you sleep in the forest often?”

“You could say that,” Y/N threw her ball of yarn onto the ground. “I enjoy coming here at night. The stars are really pretty, aren’t they Liz?”

Liz smiled. “They are! Especially in the forest, they just look so stunning.”

“You should come here more often then, I’m sure we’ll get along just right.”

Liz raised an eyebrow at the suspicious tone she had in her voice. Of course, it was known that Y/N enjoyed pulling pranks in her free time… and even when she was busy. Liz had even covered Y/N in one of her MirrorCast episodes.

That was slightly difficult, considering how evasive the girl was. But being the star reporter of Ever After High, Liz prided herself in her ability to make a story out of anything. Even when the subject was hard to work with.

Before she could ask any questions, she realized what Y/N had meant as she observed the girl take a feather out of her pocket.

The same kind of feather that had woken up Liz from her nap.

Really, there was no stopping her mischievous feats. Y/N acted on her own accord, convinced by no one but her mother. There truly was nothing she took seriously in life. The cat girl lived her life treating everything as if it were nothing, so it was only natural that how people felt about pranks wouldn’t affect her, Liz assumed at least. She brushed it all off and waved Y/N a goodbye.

After all, it wasn’t that serious to begin with.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

2. Cupid knows best.

“Hey Y/N, why do you always prank Riki?”

Y/N felt herself let out a snicker as her friend, Chaehyun Cupid, daughter of Eros, asked her a question. It was a silly one, really.

“What do you mean? I prank everyone- it’s kind of my thing.” Y/N pointed to the small cat hat that rested on her head.

Being the daughter of the Cheshire Cat, Y/N felt lots of pride in fulfilling her destiny. As such, she turned pranking people constantly into her niche. Riki Wonderland, son of Alice, was no different.

Chaehyun just rolled her eyes, leaning against Y/N’s locker. “You’ve pranked him 8 times this week already! There’s tons of people in this school so why are you targeting him specifically?”

Ningning Swan, daughter of The Swan Queen, pursed her lips. “Chae is right, you know? You’ve been pranking Riki too much recently. According to Beomgyu he’s getting pretty tired of it.”

Beomgyu Hood, son of Robin Hood, was Riki’s roommate. So if he claimed that Riki was getting annoyed then it was probably the truth.

But Y/N didn’t care much for what they were saying. Why should it matter if he feels burdened by her pranks or not? They were only in good fun, after all! She only pulled silly, lighthearted pranks. Y/N didn’t see the issue in that.

“Hey, why so serious guys?” Y/N put on her signature Cheshire smile. “I’m just here to have a good time. Whether or not I prank Riki most of the time is none of your business. Plus, Beomgyu is an idiot who lives in the woods and plays music for a living. His destiny is to be a thief. I wouldn’t trust anything that guy says.”

Ningning gave a soft smile. “He’s not that bad. He’ll be a thief who gives to the poor.”

Chaehyun turned to the swan girl with a knowing look, as the latter brushed it off and continued.

“As your closest friends, it is our business.” Ningning stated.

Y/N giggled, her movements laced with insincerity. “You’re my only friends.”

“Still makes us your closest! And don’t forget you have your Wonderland friends, Y/N.”

At that, Y/N shrugged, still adorning her wide and mischievous grin. It was true that Y/N didn’t have many friends. Naturally as someone who seeks chaos and disharmony in all she does, it was fit that people didn’t bother to get to know her. Being a rather secretive person, Y/N didn’t find herself too bothered by it (as she liked to convince herself). However, she was rather close with the other Ever After High students from Wonderland. Soul Hatter, son of the Mad Hatter, Giselle Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts, and Rei Blanc, daughter of the White Rabbit. They all grew up together and were each other’s closest friends in childhood. The only other student missing from that list was Riki.

There was never a specific reason as to why the two never got close. Perhaps Riki disliked Y/N. Perhaps his mother had told him to avoid Y/N and her staple chaos. Perhaps Y/N had been subconsciously avoiding him. Whatever it was, Y/N and Riki remained civil with one another but never became friends.

There was, however, one instance that made Y/N feel slightly closer to the boy. One night that they had spent together… had he forgotten? She tried not to think much of it and figured he didn’t think about it either.

All the more reason as to why pranking him often wasn’t a big deal. They weren’t friends (as far as she was concerned) and were barely acquainted with one another past the basis of where they lived- so why was Chaehyun suddenly questioning it?

The bell rang, alerting students to get to their next classes.

“Y/N, you totally like Riki!” Chaehyun suddenly squealed. “I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him. You like him. Pranking him more often than others just means you’re deflecting your real feelings by acting like you don’t care about him. It’s very common when people have crushes.”

The thought made Y/N burst out into laughter. After all, come on. Her? Having romantic feelings for Riki? The same boy who peed his pants the first time they went from Wonderland to Ever After? Not a chance. She could care less for the cute blush on his face afterwards, or the way he laughed it off and acted like it wasn’t a big deal (it was, he had to run into a random house in the woods to clean himself up and that’s where he met Beomgyu). She would never admit that she only knew that because she had turned herself invisible and followed him. Y/N could say for sure that she found none of that appealing. Nothing about him in the slightest.

Even the notion that Y/N would have romantic interest for anyone was absurd.

But as an avid enjoyer of all that is lawless, Y/N just shrugged with a nonchalant expression. She wasn’t one to express herself. “I could tell you, but…” She trailed off in a fake train of thought before continuing. “Where’s the fun in that? Chaos is keeping people guessing, and that makes this kitty purr~”

Her friends deadpanned at her nonspecific phrasing. It was rather hard to get anything out of the shielded girl who embodied certain traits of a cat. Of course she acted as her own person and didn’t rely on her background or her mother to force her one way, but that was just the thing. She was only raised in that way so perhaps it was all she knew best.

Chaehyun smiled, knowing well that Y/N was in a state of denial. It held up- Y/N wasn’t the open type. Cats are feisty, after all. “Sweetie, I’m the daughter of Cupid. I think I know a thing or two about love- and most things in general.” All she needs is a little push.

Y/N smirked. “Most things, really? Because Yujin Hood is a wolf like her father but so far I’m the only one who’s seemed to notice.” Yujin Hood, daughter of Little Red Riding Hood. “It’s funny because she’s really obvious about it but somehow no one has caught on. I mean, why does everyone think she acts so shady and disappears often? She’s obviously hiding a secret.”

The two girls gasped at the news. Really? The thought of Yujin being a wolf felt so… bizarre. But it definitely explained her weird habits. “That’s cheating! You can teleport and turn invisible. You spy on people all the time.” Ningning said.

“You’re right, I can! Speaking of which… Headmaster Grimm is coming this way so I’m going to head to Home Evilnomics before Baba Yaga notices I’m not there. Toodles!” Y/N waved to her friends and let her mouth spread into her Cheshire smile, before her body vanished into thin air- the last thing Ningning and Chaehyun saw of her was that damn smile as it hovered in thin air and lingered ever so slightly longer than the rest of her body.

“Why aren’t you two heading to class?” The familiar voice of the headmaster made the two girls shudder. That man truly had a terrifying aura. “Hurry along, don’t want to keep your professors waiting.”

Deep down they wished they had Y/N’s teleportation ability.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

3. Riki’s mixed feelings.

Riki couldn’t figure out why Y/N seemed to hate him.

It wasn’t as if he’d done anything to her, right? In fact when they were children, he considered her as a friend. Sure they didn’t speak to one another much, but every Wonderlandian was considered his friend. After that night they had spent together back in Wonderland, he figured they at least had an understanding of each other.

He had even found her pranks and unserious personality to be endearing!

That was, until she had made him the target of her pranks. Constantly.

Y/N didn’t prank him much when they were younger. It was only when they started attending Ever After High that the pranks would amp up and become more of a frequent thing. They first began small- switching out his shampoo for hair dye, throwing ice cream at his face on a roller coaster, replacing his croquet ball with yarn, etc. All pretty juvenile stuff. He didn’t mind it and honestly found it funny.

But even Riki had to admit that getting pranked more than twice each week was overkill! It got to a point where he would leave classes and try to go under the radar, in hopes that he could avoid Y/N at all costs. Though, it didn’t help that they had a lot of the same friends. So when his best friend, Soul Hatter, would attempt to get her attention, Riki would groan internally as her cat eyes found their way to his form.

However, nothing gets past the Mad Hatter’s son so he asked Riki about it one day- while the two were hanging out at the Mad Hatter’s tea shop in the Village of Book End.

All sorts of typical Wonderland madness went on in the tea shop, such as teacups being used for the shop’s outdoor design, clocks that tell the wrong time, portals, and objects that float on occasion. It all made Riki miss Wonderland more and more each time he went.

A squeal could be heard from inside the shop as the tables began to float. An unassuming Bahiyyih Charming feared for her life as she felt her feet lift off from the ground. Though for Riki and Soul, they were used to it so they proceeded with their conversation. “I just feel like she hates me! There’s no way you can prank someone that often without feeling negative feelings towards them.” Riki stated with a downcast look on his face.

Soul took a sip of his favorite Earl Grey tea before responding. “More like there’s no way she hates you. I don’t think Y/N hates anyone, in fact, she’s a rather peaceful person.”

At that, Riki raised an eyebrow. “Really? The Cheshire Cat’s daughter is peaceful?”

“Well she does love discord, but she cares a lot for her friends, even if she has trouble showing it. I would know- I’m actually friends with her.” Soul said.

Suddenly, a top hat appeared next to their table.

“Dad? Is that you?”

A boisterous laugh was heard as the Mad Hatter popped out from inside of the hat.

Soul beamed at his dad and the two did their handshake, which they had made back when Soul was a toddler. “Whistle, cradle, up top, down, sideways-“ Riki just smiled at this and waited for them to finish.

“-and to the moon! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you two today?” The Mad Hatter asked, as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“We were just talking about how Riki thinks Y/N hates him.” Soul elbowed his best friend in a teasing manner.

The older man tapped his finger on his chin in thought. “Y/N? Well that girl could hardly hate anyone! I’d find that very hard to believe.” Soul gave Riki a knowing ‘I told you so’ look.

“So then why is she always pranking me?”

The Mad Hatter gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Perhaps it’s her love language.”

“Love language? She’s not really close with anyone besides the other Wonderland kids.. and Ningning… and Chaehyun.” Riki spoke, as he recounted Y/N’s friends. It wasn’t very hard.

Before his question could be answered, a ring from the bell at the counter alerted the Mad Hatter to get back to work. To which he did, but not before giving his son a new box of Earl Grey tea.

“Do you think she likes you?” Riki snapped his head to Soul because of what he said out of the blue. “Maybe Chaehyun would know something about it.”

It didn’t take a second thought for Riki to shake his head in disagreement. “No… no way. We’ve barely spoken, why would she like me?”

Soul shrugged. “I’m just throwing out ideas.”

“Well, your idea sucks. There’s no way Y/N could possibly like me.”

It just made no sense. After all, who would want to prank their crush? Wouldn’t it just make them avoid you more? The idea itself was baffling to Riki.

By the end of their hangout, Riki was sure of one thing. He would officially befriend Y/N.

That would surely get her off of his back.

But secretly he knew that he didn’t mind her pranks as much as he thought he did.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

4. Castleteria encounter and unwanted realizations.

It was lunchtime at Ever After High, and students of all different fairy tale backgrounds found themselves spending their down time together in the Castleteria. After Karina Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, normalized people not wanting to follow their destinies, it became less taboo for Royals and Rebels to interact with one another. Headmaster Grimm was still hesitant on the idea, but that didn’t matter. All of the students agreed with one another that they would work on being less cliquey. Wonyoung White and Yujin Hood were seen laughing about something they were watching on the MirrorNet. But about two years ago, Snow White’s daughter and Little Red Riding Hood’s daughter would not have been together at all.

Chaehyun, Ningning, Y/N, and Sullyoon Ella were eating together that day. Y/N wasn’t typically friends with Cinderella’s daughter, but she found her incredibly attractive and alluring to be around. Sullyoon had just finished showing them her new shoe collection when Chaehyun pulled out a book and flipped to a page that was titled-

“True Hearts Day?” Ningning asked, with an eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”

Chaehyun giggled in excitement. “It’s an old holiday where people spellebrated following their hearts! Isn’t it so cool? I’m going to throw a True Hearts Day dance! As a future Cupid, I need to uphold traditions such as these.”

“And Headmaster Grimm just let you?” Sullyoon asked. “He’s not the biggest fan of people following their hearts.”

Chaehyun bit her lip. She wasn’t quite sure how her friends would react to the news but she wanted them to know first. “That’s the thing- he didn’t. I asked him last night and he shut down the idea.”

The three other girls waited for her to continue, as she took a pause to gain courage. “Which means I’m going to do it in secret!”

“And just how would you do that?” Y/N asked, as she flicked food from her spoon in Jay Huntsman’s face. The son of the Huntsman gasped in part annoyance and part shock, before proceeding to speak to the Charmings. Y/N snickered at his disgusted expression. Gotcha.

Chaehyun pulled up a map on her MirrorPhone. It displayed all of the Fairy Tale World, from Never After to the Mirror Realm. She zoomed in on the Enchanted Forest, and pointed at a random spot in the woods. “There’s a place here that I know would work perfectly! I just have to make all the invites, plan what food will be served, set up all the decorations- oh! and I have to make the music mix.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Sullyoon made a sheepish expression as she realized Chaehyun had taken up a lot on her plate, perhaps more than she realized. “I run a shoe store so I’m pretty good at managing.”

It was true, Sullyoon ran a shoe store in the Village of Book End. The Glass Slipper Shoe Store is what she had named the place, and it was a nice store with various kinds of shoes (it was really just heels, but there were many different kinds of heels).

Needing all the help she could get, Chaehyun nodded. “Do you mind handling the decorations? I’ll do everything else.”

Y/N listened silently as the girls began discussing their plans for the True Hearts Day Dance. She considered helping her friends, as she did care a great deal about them, but she wasn’t exactly good at being helpful. It was much easier for her to mess things up rather than fix them.

However she found herself bored by the topic, so she scanned the room to see who she could pull a prank on next.

Yuna Rose? Oh no, she’s fallen asleep again. What about Jake? He’s the best Charming to prank- never mind, he’s talking to Karina. Maybe…

Y/N glanced towards Riki, who she could see leaving the Castleteria. A grin widened across her face as she let her body disappear from her spot on the table- the grin once again being the last part of her to disappear.

Riki, who was frantically walking back to Professor Rumplestiltskin’s classroom in order to turn his paper in on time, tripped over what seemed to be thin air.

But it wasn’t, and that was clear when Y/N suddenly appeared next to him.

“Seriously? Again?” Riki asked, though his tone was slightly playful. He didn’t want to cause an argument- despite the fact that he was feeling slightly annoyed.

He wasn’t too fond of being pranked all the time. But Riki couldn’t blame the girl too much, she was just doing what she had always done. That much he understood about her, having grown up together.

“This is like, the 4th time this week.” Hopefully she could pick up the hints.

“Hey, I had to! The opportunity was just purrfect.” Y/N made a clawing motion as she said that. “You’re not butthurt, are you?”

Riki found himself chuckling at that. She was really funny, that was one of her features that interested him. Not that he was interested in her, but rather sometimes he found his eyes wandering in her direction he found her intriguing. Besides what she portrayed on the outside, what did anyone really know about Y/N Cheshire? Nothing, truly. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to know. “No, I could never. You’re really funny, you know that?”

Y/N’s face faltered for a second, but it was barely noticeable before she held her carefree expression once again.

“Don’t you have a paper to turn in? We wouldn’t want Rumplestiltskin to mark you down.”

“Oh yeah, I should probably go…”

“Catch you later, Wonderland.” Y/N teased, before disappearing once again.

Riki looked down on the essay in his hands before he snapped out of it and went back to turning it in.

Meanwhile, Y/N found herself back on the branch of her favorite tree in the forest. It was the place she would go to when she needed some time for herself.

And time for herself was needed after what had just happened.

Pranking Riki was something she figured wasn’t a big departure from her normal everyday life. She often crossed his path, so it made sense as to why she would choose him as a target. It wasn’t as though she was seeking him out on purpose, or waiting for him to pass by her locker so she could see his adorable expression. Or hear his voice, which she often heard in her dreams. In fact, it was so unlikely to happen that it didn’t. Y/N could barely even recall what his voice sounded like- that’s how uninterested she was in him. She didn’t even remember his name.

Yes, Y/N could care less about Riki. He was barely a thought that crossed her mind. A small, singular speck of an idea that didn’t hold any substance or weight in her world. She couldn’t waste her time with silly little things like love- after all, how could someone like her be worthy of being loved? All she knew how to do was ruin people’s days.

How could she even like him? Y/N barely even knew the boy. All she really knew was that his birthday was on December 9th, his roommate is Beomgyu, he loves riddles, and misses Wonderland, a lot.

Though, she couldn’t forget his tendency to be overly curious like his mother Alice. Or that he started a chess club with Rei due to his smart nature! Or even his eyes that seemed to glisten with a deep passion every time Y/N would look into them. His pink, plump lips that seemed too soft to be real…

Maybe she knew more than she let on.

But that didn’t mean she liked him! It was only because of her observant nature, and the fact that she can easily turn invisible. That makes it easy to people-watch.

Riki wasn’t even worth watching. So really, he was just obvious about everything. Because how else could Y/N know all those facts about him when she didn’t like him at all?

Y/N pulled out a ball of yarn to crochet and get her mind out of the gutter. Her shaking hands picked up the hook- wait, why were her hands shaking?

It was then when she finally felt the warm blush on her cheeks, which she just realized had been sitting on her face since the Castleteria.

Could she be sick?

No, it was something entirely different. Y/N realized it all now.

Each encounter with Riki left her redder than Yujin’s cloak, and her heart racing slightly faster than normal. It was so simple to see, but she had been in denial for so long.

Y/N had a crush on Riki.

Despite the realization, the idea made her feel weirded out. How could she let that happen?! Ever After High wasn’t the place to fall in love. With the majority of the students following their destinies, it wasn’t a shock to discover that Riki would as well. But Y/N could never amount to what he was worth- she was just a side character in his fairy tale. After their storybook ending, he would leave Wonderland and remember all his adventures as a dream. Plus, falling in love was too serious and committing for Y/N. She couldn’t be serious about anything.

But as she spotted her beloved in a faraway distance, she decided to get closer. Inconspicuously, of course.

There he stood as the spring sun shone down on him as if he weren’t real. Riki was only conversing with Beomgyu after turning in his essay, but he seemed to be the most ethereal being Y/N had laid her eyes upon. At one point he had thrown his head back in laughter, which sounded akin to a melody of angels singing in Y/N’s eyes. Everything about him was purrfect.

In a way, maybe falling in love didn’t sound so bad.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

5. Staring. Again.

Scratch that, it was a horrible thing to happen. How could she act around Riki the same if she had found out it was because she liked him all along?!

For Y/N, it was just easier to brush her feelings aside and continue doing what was simplest. Despite her love for chaos, she never meant to be truly evil or cause any problems. It’s all done in good fun and everyone knew that. Something as problematic as love was an issue that she never expected she would encounter while attending Ever After High.

But she couldn’t help how she felt and therefore had to come to terms with it all.

“You’re staring… Again~”

Y/N turned around to see Chaehyun giggling at her with a teasing smirk. Although she didn’t specify what exactly Y/N was staring at, the cat girl knew what she was talking about- even if she didn’t realize she was staring until that point. But Y/N would never admit that Chaehyun was right. “Staring? At what?”

The future cupid girl pointed at the object of Y/N’s attention for the past few minutes- as much as she would deny it she knew it was true. “Your future boyfriend!”

“Boyfriend?” Y/N stifled a laugh. “No way, I was just thinking about how to prank him next.”

Chaehyun sighed. She knew Y/N was stubborn but she wasn’t aware of just how stubborn the girl could be. Anyone with eyes could tell that Y/N looked at Riki with nothing but love in her eyes- so why did she deny it?

Chaehyun had no doubt it had anything to do with her feelings on her destiny.

Her eyes flitted over to something behind Y/N for a split second before she looked back at her.

“Oh! That reminds me, I have to go set up some things for True Hearts Day. I’ll see you in class, yeah?” Y/N lazily waved at her friend and watched her walk off. Just as Chaehyun had left, Y/N felt a hesitant tap on her shoulder.

Not liking the idea of someone being behind her, she quickly evaporated and appeared once again right behind the person who had tapped her. It was Riki.

“Riki Wonderland?” Y/N had teleported so fast that Riki had heard her voice behind her before even seeing her disappear. “What, cat got your tongue?”

The boy rolled his eyes at her corny joke. “Very funny. I just wanted to give you these.” Y/N looked down at his hands and saw a freshly baked batch of cookies. Had he… made them for her himself? For some reason, the idea of Riki spending some of his own time in the kitchen baking cookies especially for her made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. “My mom sent me some from back home and I wanted to give them to the Wonderland kids…”

Oh, yeah that made sense. For a moment, it almost felt as though Riki cared about her. Y/N wasn’t sure why she let herself get her hopes up so easily- what was happening? The sight of Riki made her feel so… so giddy. Perhaps realizing her feelings wasn’t such a smart move after all. She found herself acting out of character and thinking all kinds of thoughts.

“Hello? Y/N?” Riki waved a hand to her face, which snapped her out of her thoughts. She could only hope that her attraction wasn’t obvious from her facials.

Y/N slowly grabbed a cookie from the plate. It was soft and warm- it felt like home. “Cookies, for me?” Her gaze moved its way upwards until it found itself on Riki’s face. “Are they poisoned or something?”

“Is it so hard to believe someone wants to do something nice for you?” Riki said jokingly as he sighed. Grabbing a cookie from the container, he took Y/N’s hand in his own and opened it up to place another cookie in her hand. “Just take it, Y/N. After all, we’re friends aren’t we?”

Just for a second, Y/N could feel her carefree facade fade into his presence. Friends? Had he really considered them friends all along? But just as quickly as it went, her guise had come back. “Are we, Wonderland? I don’t know if you knew this, but we never even talked to each other before this year.”

“Well, you never really seemed to be fond of me. For whatever reason that is, I like to think of it as water under the bridge.” Riki smiled. “After all, I’ve considered us friends ever since we were young. Even though we didn’t talk back then, I still feel that we gained an understanding of one another after that night we spent together. Don’t you remember?”

So… he does remember?

Just as Y/N was about to ask the reason as to why they never spoke often after that night, the night that had felt special to her, she stopped herself. She didn’t want to come off as overly curious, even if that was what she truly was.

And besides, she preferred not to hear him say that she was the problem all along.

Satisfied with their newfound status of friendship, Y/N gave him a smile. A genuine smile. Her first real one in such a while. “You flatter me, Wonderland. Hopefully my nature doesn’t make you change your mind.”

The boy nodded and gave her a smirk. “I’ve grown accustomed to how you are so whatever it is you think would drive me away is something I’ve mentally prepared for.”

Wanting to mess with him for a bit, Y/N stepped slightly closer to Riki. “Oh, really? You think too much of yourself and too little of me.”

Riki bent down while maintaining eye contact with the girl. His height was truly impressive. “I don’t think you’re as threatening or scary as you think you are.”

As besotted with the boy Y/N was, she didn’t take it lightly when people underestimated her. It was something her mother did often and something that she was tired of feeling used to.

Y/N knew very well how capable she was of more than what she let on. She just hadn’t utilized it yet.

So the cat girl found herself formulating a plan in her head to prove it all wrong.

After all, Y/N Cheshire was a rebel. Stubbornness and pride were her best virtues.

She quickly teleported behind Riki and whispered a ‘boo’ to startle him- and startled he was.

“And I don’t think you know as much about me as you think you do.”

“You’re staring, Riki.”

The son of Alice left his train of thoughts as his best friend snuck up behind him. It was a week after he had officially befriended Y/N and the boy found her on his mind quite often. His curiosity of her shone brighter after she had challenged him. Of course he knew it was all in good fun, and they had been talking more casually ever since that day. During classes, during passing periods, and occasionally he would sit with her during lunch. They discussed many topics, just about anything that crossed their minds at the time. The two found it easy to fall into step with one another.

Y/N even found herself calming her catty personality when she was with Riki. It was surprising, because she hadn’t even done that with Ningning or Chaehyun. Why did she act in such a way with a boy?

As much as she wanted to deny it, Y/N knew Riki was the last person she wanted to think badly of her. Because of that, she had slowly stopped doing the small, petty pranks on him. She figured that the more she did them, the more annoyed he would get with her. Y/N decided that the prank she was planning for him would be the last one she would do. Ever.

It begged the question, why had they postponed this friendship for so long? They definitely had a connection with one another and found it very simple to get along. Conversation came easily. It made no sense as to why it had taken 17 years to get to the point where they stood currently.

Riki knew it was something on both ends. He could tell that not just one party was to blame. Because he did make efforts to speak to her on occasion, but at the same time she did as well. It was just that when a conversation was started, the other would have trouble continuing it. Perhaps it was some sort of subconscious fear.

Whatever it was, that was all in the past. It was the current day and Y/N Cheshire and Riki Wonderland had become friends.

“Riki?”

The boy brought himself out of his thoughts once more as his best friend waved a hand in front of his face. “You zoned out again. Why do you keep staring at Y/N?“

That was the question Riki kept asking himself. “It’s not on purpose. At least, I don’t think. Maybe she just happens to be there.”

“You sound unsure.” Soul said in a thoughtful manner. The cogs in his head began to turn. “Maybe… Oh my gosh- do you like Y/N?”

The thought was baffling. “Like? Of course not! I just find her… interesting.”

“Right, that’s why you’re friends with her now. Because you find her interesting.” Soul teased. That was one thing that Riki disliked about his best friend, that he was so determined in his ideals that he had to see them through each time. “How did you even come to like her? She’s not exactly your type.”

“Well that’s just it I’m not sure how-“ Riki began, but then stopped once he realized what he was unconsciously admitting.

Soul smirked. “Go on.”

Riki let out a sigh and finally let his guard down. “I don’t really know how it started. My interest in her, that is. I’m not too sure if I would classify it as a crush or anything of that sort but I guess one day my eyes just started to drift in her direction?”

He sort of lied. Riki knew that it was because of that night when they were 11, ever since he noticed something different about her. When he listened to her talk, he could tell that she had some sort of sadness about her that she could never quite talk about.

It made him curious.

A wistful breath came out of Souls mouth. “How romantic. I love unlikely romances, they’re very interesting. I suppose it was about time you found someone you were interested in.” He patted a hand on his friends back in congratulations. “Are you going to do something about it?”

“No, definitely not. At least- not until I figure out if what I’m feeling is really romantic or just a friendly interest.”

Just as Soul was about to respond, someone tapped on Riki’s shoulder. “Hey!” They both turned around to be faced with Chaehyun.

“Okay so keep it hush, especially to Headmaster Grimm, but I’m setting up a dance to spellebrate True Hearts Day. Everyone’s invited!” Chaehyun handed them both envelopes. The envelopes were lathered in pink and had their names on it. “True Hearts Day was a holiday where people spellebrated following their true hearts desire, and Headmaster Grimm has banned us from even knowing about it.”

“That tracks. Ever since Karina did what she did last year, he’s been trying to silence us now more than ever.” Riki stated.

“Exactly. Which is why this dance is a secret from him and will be held in a location he doesn’t know about.” Chaehyun smiled. “Will you be there?”

“Of course!” Soul nudged Riki. “We’ll both go.”

A cheer emitted from Chaehyun’s throat before she went to pass out more invitations.

For Riki, he knew what he had to do before the dance. He would have to discover how he felt about Y/N.

Because if he had a crush, then he would ask her to go with him.

On the other side of the lockers, Y/N stared at the concoction in her hands. It was nothing less than ugly. But it was beautiful work, and ideas bloomed through her mind as she thought about what to do with it.

“And you’re doing this… to prove a point?” Ningning asked, as she recounted what Y/N had told her moments prior. “Isn’t that a bit… far?”

“It’s just a little prank! I’ve done far worse to him before.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Besides, do I need a reason to prank someone? I’m the d-“

“-daughter of the Cheshire Cat, I know. But do you need to be so proud of it?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Ningning sighed. “All I’m saying is… you could at least know when to draw the line.”

Y/N gave it a bit of a thought. Draw the line? It wasn’t that simple for her. Y/N was just doing what she had always done. No one had ever told her when to stop, and no one had ever told her how to behave otherwise. How could she ever know otherwise? And at the end of the day, it was all just for a good laugh!

Of course, she knew Ningning had a point. She wasn’t an idiot- she could tell that people weren’t too fond of her. Though they never stated it outright, Y/N knew that her fun had stained people’s impressions of her.

But it was all she was good for.

And besides, wouldn’t Riki laugh at a prank such as this? He always did get a chuckle out of her mischief. The idea of making him laugh with that infectious laugh of his burned through Y/N’s mind.

“I’ll draw the line when I want to draw the line.”

With that, Y/N disappeared- leaving Ningning to stare at the spot where she once stood and sigh.

This is going to take a lot of work… I’m going to need to-

“Hey Ning!”

Ningning looked behind her to see Chaehyun approaching with an armful of envelopes. “Have you seen Y/N? I need to give her one of the invitations as well but I haven’t seen her around all day.”

“You just missed her, but I can hold onto the envelope and give it to her when we’re together.” Ningning smiled at her friend who she had just noticed had a troubled expression on her face.

“Cool! While we’re together, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Me too. Can we talk somewhere private?”

“You read my mind.”

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

6. He was a star, and she was anything but.

Y/N wished her mother didn’t call as often as she did.

The two were having one of their weekly calls through the MirrorPhone, and Y/N wasn’t sure if she could take one more second of her mother’s incessant nagging. Usually she could handle it, but for some reason she seemed to be more overbearing than usual.

And most of the time, she only called to see what pranks she was pulling and not to actually talk to her.

“You’re only pulling baby pranks, darling.” The Cheshire Cat spoke while filing her nails. “You should be able to do better. After all, this is all you’re good for anyways.”

This is all you’re good for.

It didn’t help her self worth when her own mother pressured her in that way.

Y/N sighed and bit her tongue. She couldn’t speak up to her mother, not when she was one of the only people she could trust. “But I can’t really do much when I’m at school, mother.”

The woman paused her nail filing to give her daughter a slight glare. “Then that means you’re not good enough.”

Y/N felt her words get choked up in her throat. “I’m trying my best!” Attempting to hold back tears, Y/N disliked how her mother spoke to her oftentimes. She figured she could handle it since it was her mother, but at some point it just became too much.

“Try harder sweetie.” The Cheshire Cat gave her a sickly sweet smile. “Be honest, is a boy distracting you?”

Yes.

“Of course not, mother.” Y/N stated.

Though, one thing she had forgotten about was her tendency to lick her lips a bit more than usual when she lied. And one thing her mother did right was notice the small things about her.

The Cheshire Cat gasped. “There is a boy!” She pondered on this idea for a second, examining her daughter through the MirrorPhone. She had made it a point to Y/N that boys would only get in the way and that romance shouldn’t be on her mind throughout high school, and she would stand by that point no matter what. But perhaps what her daughter needed was a push in the wrong direction. “Tell me, who is he? And how did it happen?”

Y/N knew she couldn’t lie anymore to her mother, so she decided to come clean. Despite their strained relationship, wouldn’t it feel nice to be able to discuss her feelings with someone?

Her mother was harsh and cruel, but she wasn’t a monster. Surely she would be able to help.

The only problem was that she didn’t know where to begin. After all, she didn’t even know where her feelings began. Was it that day by the front of the school where she realized she liked him? Or was there a time before then that she had caught feelings without even knowing? As someone who didn’t receive much love growing up and had never liked anyone else, it was hard to tell.

She thought back to all the times she had interacted with Riki. Perhaps there was a common denominator between each moment, one that could pinpoint a beginning.

It was then that she realized that there was a certain moment that stood in the back of her mind whenever Riki was around (or when she thought about him).

It was after a fight Y/N had with her mother when she was 11. At one point, she became too stressed with all the expectations the Cheshire Cat had on her, and certain feelings began to bubble up within her. It came to a stop when her and her mother had blown up on each other and things got too tense for Y/N to stay at home. Without her dad present, it was tough having to live with someone who both expected so much of you but also didn’t believe you were worth anything.

Due to her conflicting feelings, she ended up running out of the house in an attempt to find somewhere to calm down. Though in Wonderland, there weren’t many options. No matter where you went there was bound to be chaos.

So Y/N ran. She found herself running and running until she could find somewhere to sit peacefully and stay unbothered. It was just too much for her 11 year old brain to stay in such a place that fostered a toxic mindset.

And eventually, she found a spot. It was nearby the portal between Wonderland and Ever After, so perhaps part of that world was seeping into Wonderland. Whatever it was, she had found a hilltop so hidden from the rest of Wonderland that there was practically no noise. It was so high above the world that one wrong step and Y/N would be falling to her death. From where Y/N was curled up within the trees, she could see the stars.

Y/N loved stargazing. It was something that she couldn’t do often but loved doing while she could. With all the pressures from her mom and herself, something she could count on to be a constant was looking at the stars. The way the shimmer of the stars starkly contrasted the gloom of the night sky- she felt that she could easily get lost in its beauty. Not only were they beautiful, but there was something about the way the stars twinkled that made her want to shine just as brightly. Each star perfectly had its own place amongst the sky… could she be like that too? Was there somewhere she could have her own place in? In another world, Y/N was a star. She wanted to be able to contribute to a bigger picture, and not just be a side character in another’s story. Perhaps when she died, she could be reincarnated as a star. Was that even possible?

Until then she would stay down on the ground, waiting to take her place amongst the stars.

Y/N was so entranced by her own thoughts that she didn’t notice a figure slowly come into her view.

“Is there any more room up here?” The voice said.

Out of instinct, Y/N gasped and quickly disappeared. It was a defense mechanism that had become a habit when she learned to control her powers.

But as her vision started to focus once more and she reappeared, Y/N realized who it was.

Riki Wonderland.

Confused, she raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my spot.” He said in such confidence. “I found it years ago and I’ve been coming here to stargaze ever since.”

Riki stargazed? Y/N couldn’t see that as something befitting of his character.

“I just wanted to get out of the house, I guess.” Y/N shrugged. “So, you stargaze?”

“It’s just something I realized I enjoyed after the first time I did it.” Riki stated, a small smile placed upon his face that Y/N had never seen before.

Not wanting to be a nuisance, Y/N sat up. “Well if you’re here now, I might as well just leave. Have fun with your stars, Wonderland.”

Before Y/N could disappear, Riki grabbed her arm. “Wait,” the girl looked into his eyes as she decided to hear out what he had to say. “you should stay. It’s not like I own this place anyways.”

It wasn’t that she disliked Riki, and in all honesty she found him rather cute. But wouldn’t it be awkward if it was just the two of them? Y/N didn’t have an easy time socializing with people either way, but with Riki it would be even harder. It was awkward knowing that they were so close to being friends but it had never happened. But with the pleading look in his eyes, how could she say no?

There was something about him that made her soft.

Y/N sighed and slowly agreed. If Riki wanted her there, perhaps she should stay. So the two laid on opposite sides of the branch together, and silently looked up at a world they could only dream of being a part of.

After some time, Riki opened his mouth. “I know I already asked this earlier, but why did you come here? You know, to stargaze.” As if he wasn’t satisfied with her answer.

He was right in thinking that her answer wasn’t what she truly wanted to say, but it just felt awkward to give an exact reason. Her relationship with her mom was something she could barely tell her only 3 friends about, let alone someone she barely considered an acquaintance.

But Y/N knew Riki was a reliable guy; she had heard it often from Soul, Rei, and Giselle. And maybe for once she would let herself put faith into another person.

“I’ll only tell you if you tell me why you like stargazing.”

Riki blew out a breath in thought. “Hm… I don’t know if I can give an exact reason for that. I was just bored one day and ended up coming across this place. That’s what made me stargaze, but something about it just felt so comforting to me that I wanted to do it more often.” He answered, a soft smile gracing his lips. “But that’s not exactly a good reason.”

“I think it suits you.” Y/N whispered out. “I’m sure you have your own stresses with being the son of Alice in Wonderland. It would make sense that having a hobby like this to come back to is something you enjoy.”

He pondered on it for a moment. Maybe she was right. He then chuckled at this side of her he had never seen before. “You’re a lot more poetic than you let on. Anyways I answered your question, can you answer mine?”

Y/N considered answering it, she truly did, but as much as she wanted to open up there was the side of her that wanted to keep everything inside. Her mother had always told her that vocalizing your feelings does nothing good and only makes people pity you.

One thing Y/N despised was being pitied. It only reminded her of how her mother referred to her as a ‘pitiful girl’ and how she would amount to nothing.

So she slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think I can.”

Riki felt himself beginning to sit up to look at the girl. There was something off about her. The way she spoke to him and the way that she carried herself… she wasn’t acting as she always had. Normal Y/N would be more playful and even mischievous. But now, there was a certain sadness in her entire being that seemed to be throwing her off her rhythm. And it only made Riki more and more curious about her.

“Okay, I get it. You don’t have to tell me.” Riki smiled, before continuing. “I just hope it doesn’t take away your chaotic spirit. You know, I kind of like that about you.”

A sigh left Y/N’s lips at his words. “You don’t mean that, Wonderland.”

“I mean every word, Cheshire.”

Y/N could only roll her eyes before slowly evaporating into the night, using her invisibility and teleportation to finally go back home.

Left lingering in the air was her Cheshire’s smile, which disappeared last and left Riki staring at the wisps of where she had sat only moments prior.

Maybe it made sense that Riki enjoyed stargazing. In a way, there was something about him that was made of the stars. No matter what he did, he always seemed to shine brighter than all the others. There was something about Riki that felt that he belonged up in the sky, giving life to the night and adding a certain glimmer to the auras.

Riki had his own place amongst the sky, and she wished she could be like that too. But after speaking to him, maybe there was nowhere she could have her own place in. Y/N could only wait for the day that she could contribute to a bigger picture, and take a larger part in his story. After all, she had always wanted her own place within the stars.

But for now, all she could do was hope she would become more than just the Cheshire Cat’s daughter.

Y/N carefully recounted her memories from that night, and how it had stuck with her and unknowingly fostered her feelings for Riki. As she told the story, she didn’t seem to notice the Cheshire Cat don a mischievous smile.

If her daughter wasn’t going to improve on her own, then she would have to make her improve.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

7. “You…r opinion?”

Liz had a habit of expecting the worst out of most situations. Perhaps it came from the fact that her destiny involved bears… big scary bears… but it was understandable. Bears weren’t known for being the most gentle creatures, after all.

So when she noticed a suspicious vial of liquid in Y/N’s bag during their Advanced Ballet class, Liz’s mind raced with negative thoughts. What was she up to? Did it have anything to do with pranking? Or maybe it was for a class assignment?

Liz truly didn’t mean to think the worst of Y/N, but she couldn’t exactly help it. Being kind wasn’t exactly in her forte and Liz was too much of a paranoid person to ignore seeing that vial.

But she also didn’t want to profile the girl for doing something that she wasn’t going to do in the first place. Liz knew that doing so wasn’t just right. So she looked around the room to see if anyone had seen her internal battle. Deciding that it had gone unnoticed, Goldilocks’ daughter let out a shaky breath and continued to practice her jetés.

“Are you still going to-” Ningning said, but paused when she realized she was being a bit too loud- especially considering the subject of the conversation was in that very room. Why was he there anyways? He didn’t even take Advanced Ballet… “Are you still going to prank Riki?” She continued in a hushed whisper.

Y/N giggled at Ningning’s apparent stress. Although she disliked making her friends upset, it was still sort of funny that she had that effect on them. “Well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

Ningning frowned. “Well first of all, it’s rude.”

“Hey, if you’re not funny just say that!”

“Be serious…” Y/N made a hand movement indicating that she was shutting her mouth. Ningning then continued with her list. “It causes unnecessary problems. And besides, Riki isn’t going to like y-”

“What about Riki?”

Y/N and Ningning’s heads swiftly turned to face the voice- it was Beomgyu and Riki. Y/N could see Ningning get a little shy for reasons she decided to ignore. Beomgyu? Really? You can do better Ning…

“Don’t think you’re all that, Wonderland.” Y/N grinned. “We were talking about Ricky Jester.”

Beomgyu groaned. “Ugh, I hate that guy. He’s so annoying, I mean, we don’t care th-” His rant was cut short when Riki pressed a hand against Beomgyu’s mouth. “Thanks man, I forgot he’s in this class.”

Ningning chuckled. “Don’t be such a hater, Beomgyu.”

Ningning and Beomgyu proceeded to start their own conversation, with Beomgyu whispering to her all the things he found wrong with Ricky. Y/N felt happy for her friend in that moment, and let a small smile show on her face. It wasn’t intentional, and in fact she hadn’t even noticed it was there. But someone else noticed.

Riki couldn’t deny that he felt a certain emotion bubble in his stomach when he saw the genuine happiness on Y/N’s face. Y/N, the same girl who was often cold and didn’t show any of her softer emotions. Something about that made her happiness reflect onto him.

It was odd. He enjoyed seeing her in such a state, but he figured he felt more than he should have in that circumstance. Why did he feel like that?

No, Riki wasn’t dumb and he wasn’t the type to lie about his feelings. He could tell exactly what it was.

But was he pleased with the outcome? Riki wasn’t sure. Though he told himself that he would come to terms with whatever decision he made about his feelings on Y/N, it was easier said than done. After all, he knew that being romantically involved with the girl would come with work. A lot of work. He was also worried that everything was too rushed, and that he wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe his thought process was clouded with what he thought he wanted to happen.

Once again, the H/C female was left to her own thoughts- which obviously drifted to the boy next to her. She couldn't help it. He made her rather stable heart go all crazy when he was around.

Thoughts of confessing were brought up, but then immediately shut down because of how ridiculous it sounded. The idea of Riki having mutual feelings towards her seemed so out of the ballpark. After all, it was her. She was someone who had trouble facing her own feelings, and put up a front to hide all her troubles and insecurities. Riki always seemed put together. How could a guy such as himself possibly think about dating her?

At the same time of Y/N having doubts in her head, Riki had finally come to a conclusion. He pondered on it for a while, and he knew it was too obvious to ignore.

Riki liked Y/N.

It made him wonder, how long had he felt that way? He couldn’t help but think of the possibility of his crush starting even back then, on the day that he and Y/N shared under the stars.

He wondered if being hyper aware of Y/N and all that she does was because he liked her, or because he was a naturally curious person. He also wondered if him noticing the way her hair fell behind her ears was also because he liked her.

“Hey Riki, I have a question.” Y/N started, her cat-like eyes closing to a slant. “Why are you in our class today? I didn’t think someone like you would take Advanced Ballet. Don’t you dance hip hop?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Riki considered the question. Why was he there? The simple answer was because Beomgyu, who actually did take the class, invited him to join since Riki had a free period.

But he thought back to the moment that Beomgyu asked, and what he said that got him to go.

“You know a lot of people in that class, actually.” Beomgyu said before listing off the people he could recall. “Liz, Ricky, Yuna, Wonyoung, Jake, Ningning, Y/N-”

Of course, Riki remembered. All the other names seemed to fade as he heard that last one.

“It was because of you-” Riki blurted out, without even thinking. He had to save himself before Y/N could catch onto his mistake. “-your opinion. I.. wanted to get your opinion on my outfit today since you’re very straightforward.”

What?! Why did I say that?

Slightly disappointed at his answer, Y/N looked at the boy up and down. Her opinion? He looked cute. As always.

“It’s hideous.”

A smirk made its way to Y/N’s face even though she didn’t agree with what she said. Though she usually acted calmer around Riki, teasing him every now and then didn’t do any harm.

“Hideous?! Hey, it’s really not that bad.” Riki chuckled. “It’s literally just an oversized jacket and baggy jeans!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Um, don’t forget that you asked for my opinion, Wonderland.”

“And your opinion is wrong.” Riki said. “Also why do you call me Wonderland all the time?”

Beomgyu looked over at Y/N and Riki. He noticed the way they conversed, and how Y/N’s expression seemed softer than normal despite her mischievous jabs. He also picked up on Riki’s facials, and how his eyes seemed to sparkle in a certain way that Beomgyu had never seen before. It was interesting to see how his aura changed in the slightest when he was with Y/N.

Without realizing, Beomgyu was staring at Y/N while thinking about how glad he was that Riki found someone he liked.

He glanced over at Ningning to see if she had seen it as well, but stopped his trailing eyes when he noticed Riki giving him a weird face. Did he do something wrong?

Under the impression that Beomgyu was staring at Y/N because he was interested, Riki felt a wave of jealousy wash over his system. He never considered himself the possessive type, however, he had just realized his feelings for Y/N. It made sense that his brain was scattered and his emotions left him rather vulnerable.

For once in his life, Riki felt himself getting jealous of one of his friends. It wasn’t an instance that occurred often, as Riki knew he was a rather fortunate guy and that he had a lot to be grateful for, but he couldn’t help it this time.

Falling for Y/N Cheshire, Riki knew, came with a lot of work. He knew she had a lot of mental troubles she would need to work through, and Riki himself needed to navigate through these unfamiliar emotions.

It was work, but Riki was willing to put in the work for Y/N.

Amongst all the newfound realizations and bubbling emotions, one girl snuck away from her spot next to the group. She had been eavesdropping on their conversation for longer than intended, but what really stuck with her was what Ningning and Y/N discussed in the beginning.

Y/N… pranking Riki again?

Maybe it wasn’t anything to worry about. After all, she did prank Riki rather often. It was well known amongst the student body.

But she couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that came over her body when she thought about what Y/N could possibly do, and the guilt that she would feel if she didn’t at least try to stop it.

Though she held a certain degree of respect for Y/N, one thing the girl stood heavily for was justice. As soon as she was far away from the group she pulled out her phone and went into Riki’s contact.

“Hey Riki, it’s me. Liz.”

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

8. You make everyone miserable.

During the day time, it was common for Ever After High students to meet up at Hocus Latte. It was a common hang out spot between friends, though oftentimes if a girl asked a guy or vice versa people would assume it was for a date.

That was why Riki felt conflicted when he read Liz’s text.

‘I need to talk to you. Meet me at Hocus Latte at 3 p.m for a quick chat’ He reread to confirm the meeting time.

On one hand it made sense, because Yuna Rose worked there and the two were rather close. But did she not think about the message she might have accidentally sent? Riki tried not to think about it too deeply because he doubted Liz had a crush on him.

As he sat inside Hocus Latte waiting for Liz to arrive, his phone vibrated indicating he had received another text.

‘Actually I might be running late because there were some technical troubles for my MirrorCast show, but I sent over one of my friends to keep you company. Sorry about that!’

A wave of nervousness washed over his body as he read over her text. Who did she send? Riki didn’t usually find it hard to get along with others, but not knowing who he was going to have to hang out with gave him an unsettling feeling. His mind racked through the roster of Liz’s friends, and who she was most likely to send.

It’s definitely not Yuna because she’s working right now, maybe Jake? But he works for her MirrorCast show and if they were having technical troubles then she probably would have him help. What about Wonyoung- actually no, he could only hope it wasn’t her. The daughter of Snow White was someone he found rather intimidating, despite how nice she genuinely was.

As Riki pondered over the possibilities, he noticed a familiar form come into his view.

“You look stupid sitting here alone.”

Riki looked up and noticed Y/N’s signature Cheshire grin, something he hadn’t seen since they had become friends but he surely missed. He enjoyed the calm(ish) side of her that she had been presenting to him as of late, but he couldn’t help but miss the side of her that interested him in the first place. Though whatever side Y/N wanted to show him was one he was willing to accept.

He felt his heart pick up its pace as Y/N sat in the empty chair. His entire mind had been consumed by her, thinking about her almost every waking hour ever since he realized his crush on her. But despite that, he hadn’t actually expected to see her. They were good friends but the silly, fluttery feelings he felt for her still made being around her both exciting and difficult.

“Did Liz send you here?” Riki asked with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

Y/N giggled. “Oh yeah, her and I are like this!” She crossed her fingers to indicate that they were close. “She loves me so much she made a MirrorCast episode about me!”

Riki remembered watching that episode, perhaps more so than he should’ve. Looking back on it, the signs that he had feelings for her were obvious. He just didn’t notice.

What happened is in the past. Now that I know I like her, I’m going to pursue her.

“It makes sense, I mean, you are a likable person.” Riki said, before taking a sip of her drink. Before Y/N could vocalize her confusion, he spoke once more. “Do you want a drink? I can order you one.”

“Oh, I’m good.” Not dropping her smirk, Y/N winked at Riki. “I already ordered one anyways.”

As Riki was about to ask what she meant, she had already turned herself intangible and disappeared. Moments passed with Riki just looking around and waiting for Y/N to come back, and eventually she did.

With a drink.

“How did you get that?”

“I ordered it, duh.” Y/N wore an expression that read ‘obviously’.

If anyone bothered to look in the back of the cafe, they would see Yuna in the kitchen covered in water and the drink she just finished making gone from her hands.

For unrelated reasons, of course.

Riki could tell that she hadn’t just ordered the drink, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He knew that Y/N could be annoying at times, but he knew she would never cross the line. He trusted her not to do that because he knew deep down, despite everything, she was a good person.

“Did you finish your Chemythstry paper?” Riki asked, changing the subject. “I heard from Jay that Rumplestiltskin is grading it harder than our past papers because he wants us to fail. That way if we ask for extra credit, he can punish us and make us spin straw into gold for him. Isn’t that sick in the head?”

Y/N stifled a laugh as she thought about their professor. “Really? That’s kind of funny, actually.”

Rolling his eyes in a teasing manner, Riki smiled. “Right, I forgot that’s pretty on brand for you. Just wait until he asks you to do it, maybe it won’t be funny then.”

“Please, Rumplestiltskin loves me.” Y/N said, emphasizing the ‘love’. “And even if he tried to fail me I would just turn it into a passing grade without him seeing.”

“I remember when you fell asleep in his class and he just let you sleep. If that were any one of us, he would’ve yelled in our faces.” Riki reminisced.

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. “It must suck not being the favorite.”

“I’ll have you know Pied Piper loves me.”

“That’s not a flex… Everytime he plays the trumpet, rats fall from the sky. And for some reason he keeps doing it??”

“At least my professor is taller than 4 feet.”

“At least mine doesn’t like classic rock.”

“Isn’t your mom friends with Pied Piper?”

“So? That doesn’t mean I have to like him…”

The two went back and forth for a while, though it was all in good fun. It felt nice to be able to banter and tease each other and know that neither of them meant any harm by it.

Riki enjoyed speaking to Y/N, because he thought she was fun. Y/N enjoyed speaking to Riki, because she felt that she could be herself around him.

Though, all good things must come to an end. Y/N felt one of her senses pick up suddenly, and she realized her time with Riki was one of those good things.

She had to leave before Liz noticed she was there.

“It’s been fun, Wonderland, but I have to dip.” Y/N said. “Duty calls, you know?”

Before he could utter out a ‘bye’, Y/N had already disappeared and was out of his sight.

Moments after, Liz finally arrived.

“Hi Riki! Sorry for running late, there was this whole thing with the routers and Jake kept accidentally breaking things and-”

Riki waved it off before she could continue to ramble. “It’s alright! Thank you for sending someone to keep me company, it was fun.”

Liz smiled knowing that she did something helpful. “I’m glad, Chae was excited even though I asked her last minute. Weird, right? I didn’t realize you guys were friends.”

As Liz continued on about how Chaehyun was willing to drop what she was doing to accompany Riki, he paused. Did she say Chaehyun?

Didn’t she send Y/N?

“Wait, Chaehyun?” Riki asked, hoping he hadn’t heard the name incorrectly.

Confused, Liz stopped what she was saying to clarify. “Yes? She was the one I asked. Did she not tell you that?”

The pieces finally clicked in Riki’s head, and he felt a bit dumb for not noticing it sooner. Suspicious behavior was all a part of Y/N’s character but she hadn’t been acting in such a way as of late. For her to come and suddenly revert back to that was something that Riki should’ve thought about. That paired with her leaving so suddenly…

But one thing didn’t make sense, why did Y/N come instead of Chaehyun in the first place?

Before Liz could comment on Riki’s prolonged silence, he awkwardly laughed. “Sorry, yeah. Chaehyun mentioned it, I just thought you said Chaewon and I wanted to clarify.”

Whatever the reason was for Y/N to lie, he figured outing her to Liz wouldn’t be helpful.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh right!” Liz jumped up, almost having forgotten why she wanted to meet with Riki in the first place. “I overheard something during Advanced Ballet, and I just wanted to tell you about it because I think you deserve to know.”

Advanced Ballet? Oh right, Liz was in Y/N and Beomgyu’s class. He recalled seeing her for a brief moment that day when he crashed their lesson.

The way she was putting everything made Riki slightly nervous, but he could only hope it wasn’t anything too bad. “Okay, what is it?”

“I saw a weird vial of liquid in Y/N’s bag, and I overheard her talking to Ningning about wanting to prank you. I know she pranks you often, but I just didn’t feel right seeing all that and not doing anything about it.”

Riki let out a laugh at what she said. “Thank you for being concerned, but she always does this and I’m okay with that. I know she would never cross the line.”

“That’s good! I just wanted to let you know so you could prepare if anything.” Liz smiled, glad he had taken it so well. She knew that Riki and Y/N were decent friends so she didn’t feel particularly worried about the fact that he was alright with her. “I also know Beomgyu was mentioning to Ningning that you were sick of getting pranked, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything-” She paused what she was saying when a memory popped into her head. “Wait, I just remembered something. Did you know Beomgyu has a crush on Y/N?”

Riki felt his heart stop when Liz said those words.

Beomgyu had a crush on Y/N? His Y/N? How could he!

Of course Riki never vocalized his crush on her, but he had hoped that Beomgyu would be able to notice.

“O-Oh, does he really?” Riki nervously laughed, trying not to let his disappointment show. It would be embarrassing if Liz found out Riki felt the same. “He never told me that…”

“He never said it explicitly, but when he and Ningning were talking I saw him look over at Y/N a lot. He was probably asking Ningning for help on how to ask her out, since she’s one of Y/N’s best friends.” Liz chuckled. “Isn’t it so cute! I think they fit each other well. Don’t you? Maybe he’ll ask her to the True Hearts Day dance!”

No, they don’t fit each other at all. Beomgyu was annoying and stupid, and Y/N was funny and smart. She was far too beautiful on the inside to be with someone who often stole food from the Castleteria.

Riki didn’t care that Y/N also stole food. To him, it was only alright when she did it. Everything in his eyes was alright when it was done by Y/N.

But regardless, Riki didn’t want Y/N to be stunted by being with Beomgyu. He loved his friend, but he knew that he had a lot of room to mature before he gave his heart to another.

At the end of the day, Riki knew one thing and that was that he was the only one fit for Y/N.

Because he liked her. No, maybe even loved.

Though, he couldn’t admit that. Not now. “Yeah, they would look great.” He said through gritted teeth.

After wrapping up their conversation Liz and Riki decided to walk back to Ever After High together. It was getting late, and Riki was worried about Liz getting back safely.

And as much as he tried to be present in whatever Liz was saying about how to make the best porridge, he just couldn’t pay attention. All he could think about was Beomgyu and Y/N being together. The thought made him sick to his stomach. The idea of them holding hands… whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears… kissing- It was all too much. He couldn’t stand thinking about it, yet he was addicted to the thought. He kept thinking up different scenarios that would occur if the two ever started dating.

While distracted, Riki felt a gust of wind blow behind him. He tried not to think too much about it but it felt a little unsettling.

He brushed it off, and tried to pay attention to what Liz was rambling about.

“-and then you have to drizzle it with honey! But the honey you get has to be just right, it can’t be too sweet but it also can’t be too flavorless. So that’s something you have to think about.” Liz stopped for a moment when she noticed that Riki wasn’t exactly paying attention. “Hey, are you okay?”

Riki was about to respond, however he was interrupted when he heard a familiar giggle fill the air. Suddenly, he felt a hole open up underneath him until he eventually fell through, falling for about 10 feet before he landed on hard rock.

“Riki, are you okay?!” Liz shouted from above. She looked around where she found a rope on the ground next to a tree, so she picked it up and threw it down to Riki to help him up. “What the hell happened??”

Still shaken up, Riki brushed the dirt off his clothes as he climbed up the rope. “I… I have no idea. One moment I was standing and all of a sudden I was on the ground.”

Once he got back onto the surface, the adrenaline eventually went away and he could finally feel the pain shoot up his ankle.

A giggle was heard from a distance, the same giggle that Riki had heard moments prior to falling. It was a little too familiar for his liking, and he hoped that it wasn’t who he thought it was.

“What happened to you, Wonderland?”

Riki and Liz looked to the side and Riki felt his heart drop for the second time that day.

There Y/N stood, looking cute and innocent as ever, as if she wasn’t causing a storm to brew within Riki’s heart.

Was she the one who made him fall?

“Why are you asking when you’re the one who did this?” Riki muttered, hurt shown on his face.

The previously lighthearted expression on Y/N’s face slowly shifted into a confused one. What was he talking about? “Well, I’m flattered you think I’m capable of something like this but I don’t even know what happened to you.”

“Don’t lie, don’t you think it’s weird that I fell into a hole and a few seconds later you show up?” Riki said. “I thought you were better than this, I mean, I could’ve seriously injured myself!”

It was then that Y/N realized Riki wasn’t in the best mood, and that worried her. She didn’t enjoy him being angry at her, not one bit. “Riki, it wasn’t me. Truly.”

“So you’re saying Liz was lying about how you’ve been planning on pranking me?”

Riki didn’t mean to bring Liz into it, but he couldn’t help it.

“I can’t believe you… I thought we’ve been getting closer. Then you go and do this?”

“I’m being honest, it wasn’t me!” Y/N voice raised to a yell. She felt hurt that he was blindly accusing her, though she couldn’t blame him. After all this time, she knew people only expected the worst of her. And with how she’s treated Riki in the past, it was only right that his mind would think of her to do such a thing.

But she thought he would know she would never intentionally hurt him. That’s why she only pulled small pranks. “I care about you a lot, Riki. Even though I considered pranking you in the past, I stopped myself from doing it because I want to better myself for you.”

Riki felt his heart swell at what she said, but he still couldn’t get the information he learned about Y/N and Beomgyu out of his head.

“Are you ever going to take anything seriously? I mean, aren’t you tired of acting like this?”

“Acting like what…?”

All the jealousy he felt and the anger he felt towards himself… seeing her made all the negative feelings that Riki had been feeling bubble up, and before he knew it his mouth was moving faster than his brain.

“Aren’t you tired of making people feel miserable all the time!?” He yelled, with shut eyes.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt regret all around. He didn’t mean to say anything really mean, he was just upset and he had accidentally taken it out on her.

“Um, don’t you think that was a little too far?” Liz whispered, surprised that Riki of all people said that. “I think you should apologize, I mean, she really might not have done it.”

Wasn’t Liz the one suspicious of Y/N in the first place?

Before he could take back his words he looked back up at his crush, only to see hurt and shock written on her face. And Riki knew he messed up.

“I make people feel miserable…? Alright, I get it.”

The smile Y/N put on was different from all the smiles she had given him in the past. It was filled with mixed emotions- sadness, hurt, and disgust. But at who? Disgusted at him? Or maybe even herself?

That was the last he had seen of Y/N in a few days.

Riki looked up at the sky and for some reason, the stars seemed to be dimmer than usual.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

9. Locker chats.

It was two days before the big True Heart’s Day dance that Chaehyun had been planning, and Riki couldn’t feel more stressed.

“You said that to her??”

Soul couldn’t hold back his shock as Riki recounted his previous argument with Y/N.

It had been some time since then, and Riki knew the girl was evading him. But why? He knew he had hurt her, but didn’t he deserve an apology too? After all, she did cause him to hurt his ankle.

“She could’ve killed me, Soul.” Riki frowned. “I don’t think I’m in the wrong for being concerned about my safety.”

Soul face palmed at his friends’ obliviousness. “Has it ever occurred to you that she might not have done it? Ever since you guys became close, you know Y/N has been trying to change her nature. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, and especially not something that drastic.”

Riki let out a sigh as he remembered something he had been trying to push to the back of his head. “But that’s the thing, what if she doesn’t care about me as much as I thought she did?”

“Bro what-”

“Liz told me that Beomgyu likes her.” It hurt Riki’s heart to think about that fact. “What if she likes him back?”

Soul was about to voice his disagreement when his eyes trailed past Riki’s shoulder. Before he could tell him not to look, Riki was already turning his head to see what caught Soul’s attention.

But the sight was one he had been dreading to see. Beomgyu and Y/N were walking to class together, and they seemed happy to be together.

Since when were they friends? Was it because Riki hadn’t been by her side? And why hadn’t Beomgyu said anything about their new friendship?

Riki’s mind raced with the possibilities of how Y/N and Beomgyu had become friends. But no matter how they had gotten to that point, it didn’t matter.

Beomgyu was talking to Y/N. His Y/N. How could she stand there, and laugh, and look so beautiful?

How could she look so well when he was struggling so much internally?

Riki would never know just how much sleep Y/N was losing over everything, or how she had already planned out her apology.

“Maybe they’re just friends?” Soul suggested, not wanting his best friend to be upset. But even he couldn’t deny the seeming chemistry between the two.

“Don’t worry about Beomgyu, he’s not a threat.” Ningning’s voice was heard as she approached the two Wonderlandians. “Now Riki tell me, what did you say to Y/N? She hasn’t been herself these days and I know you have something to do with it.”

Riki was hesitant to tell Y/N’s best friend about what had happened, but maybe Ningning could clear some things up for him. So he described what occurred between the two of them that night in great detail, making sure Ningning was able to get the full picture.

Once he finished, he could tell the swan girl was about to slap him for what he said to her friend.

“Are you being serious right now?” Ningning scoffed. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were smart because you’re actually kind of dumb…”

Riki frowned. “Okay rude.”

Soul had to stop himself from laughing. “She kind of gagged you there…”

Ningning sighed. “Riki… Y/N was telling the truth, she didn’t do it. Her mom did.”

“...What?”

“You stupid hoe, I can’t believe you didn’t try to hear her out.” Disappointment could be heard all over Ningning’s tone, but Riki wasn’t paying attention to that.

All he could think about how he seriously messed up.

“Her mom thought you were a threat to Y/N’s success so she tried to get you out of the picture. But when Y/N found out about it, she yelled at her mom. Can you believe that?” Ningning said incredulously. “She’s terrified of her mother, but she yelled at her for you.”

He realized that he shouldn’t have gotten so defensive and just trusted his friend, after all, she had been showing that she did want to change. He should have trusted her and not let his emotions take over.

But after hearing about Y/N and Beomgyu possibly being together was just too much for him to think about, and he projected all that anger onto Y/N. The things he said and the way he acted were all uncalled for.

“Is she going to class right now?” Riki abruptly said, the only thought on his mind was that he needed to apologize.

“She’s kind of busy these days because she’s helping Chaehyun prepare for the dance, so I don’t think it’s a good time to approach her.” Ningning said. “Maybe try talking to her on the day of the dance?”

He didn’t want to wait for two more days but if Ningning thought that was best, he would trust her. Riki would wait for as long as he needed if it meant he could have Y/N back in his life.

Because more than anything, he missed her and her silly pranks.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

10. I’ve always loved you.

“You look pretty, Y/N.”

Y/N snapped out of her staring contest with the mirror as Ningning entered her peripherals. The daughter of the Swan Queen, who usually wore her ballet style clothing, suddenly adorned a lilac dress that was shorter in the front and longer in the back with silver details sprinkled throughout. It resembled a forest design, which was befitting of her character since she was a swan after all.

Y/N, on the other hand, wore a darker purple dress that was of a similar length and had black lace around the top. Her voluminous hair was styled into pigtails and part of it was made to resemble cat ears. Her accessories complimented the outfit perfectly, and she felt good about herself for once in her life.

A sigh left Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Ning. You look beautiful too.”

Ningning frowned. “You’re still upset, aren’t you?”

And she was right.

True Heart’s Day. It was a night many people looked forward to, and a memory they all knew would solidify within each others’ long term memories. The aspect of getting dressed up and attending a formal event was a luxury that the attendees basked in for even days after the original event. The luminescent lights, the high energy music, the romantic atmosphere— it was all too exhilarating. Although the event wasn’t intended to be a romantic one, many students had made it out to be one. Being the daughter of Cupid, Chaehyun didn’t know if she was satisfied with that outcome or not.

But for Y/N, she hadn’t even wanted to go anymore. After her fight with Riki, being in such a romantic atmosphere only made her more upset than ever. It reminded her that no matter how much she tried to change or how often she attempted to prove that she was more than what the general public made her out to be, she would never be seen as who she really was.

And that made her feel like more of an outsider than ever.

“It’s nothing. I’m excited.” Y/N smiled at Ningning, in hopes that she would stop worrying. “Is it almost time? We should go before it’s too late.”

Ningning groaned, as she remembered where they were going. “Remind me why we’re doing this again? Dances aren’t exactly my type of scene.”

Y/N chuckled. “Because we have to be there to support Chae. She’s counting on us, you know?” She paused, and a sad expression made its way onto her face. “And I don’t want to disappoint anyone anymore.”

Ningning looked at Y/N with an expression on her face, feeling sad for her friend.

She could only hope True Hearts Day would go over well.

After walking around the forest for 15 minutes, Y/N could tell that Ningning didn’t know where she was going. Why would Chae organize the dance to be so far away from the school? She knew they were keeping everything on the down low, but still.

“You have no idea where we’re going, do you?” Y/N giggled as her best friend struggled to figure out where they were going. “Why don’t we just call Chae-”

“No!” Ningning shouted. “I mean, we can’t disturb her. I’m sure we can figure it out on our own.”

Y/N doubted Ningning’s words but didn’t vocalize that.

They wandered around for a few more minutes, when Ningning spotted someone in the distance.

Bingo.

“Beomgyu! Are you guys heading to the True Hearts Day dance?”

Y/N hoped that the other person with Beomgyu wasn’t who she was hoping it would be. But unfortunately, she rarely got what she wanted.

As she looked where Ningning was, Y/N could see Riki in all his entirety. It had been a while since she had fully looked at him, and she felt her heart stop. He was just as beautiful as he’d always been. Y/N couldn’t deny that despite being the one to cut off contact, she had missed him more than ever.

Maybe there was a part of Riki that missed her too?

No, that couldn’t be the case. He said it himself, she only made people miserable.

Deep down Y/N had been pondering on that possibility for years. But hearing someone verbalize it out loud and say it to her, especially someone she liked so much, was extremely hurtful.

But she knew she needed to hear it. Because now more than ever she’s felt sorry for her actions.

Though, did Riki have to be so rude about it?

“Yeah, we’re on our way right now.” Beomgyu answered Ningning’s question while Riki and Y/N had an intense staring contest. “What are you two doing here? Isn’t it in the other direction?”

Ningning facepalmed at her stupidity. They had been going the wrong way. “Oh yeah! I definitely knew that. I was just… making sure you guys would get there safe.”

Chuckling at her denial, Beomgyu smiled. “Right, because that makes so much sense.”

Y/N could see Ningning getting shy. “Well since we’re all here, should we just head over together?” Ningning suggested looking at Y/N to get her approval more than anything.

Although she had been avoiding Riki, Y/N really didn’t want any more bad blood between the two of them. Even if he would never like her back, she missed her friend and would do anything to fix everything. “I’m alright with that. But let’s go faster, because we’ll already be late enough as is.”

The four began walking together, the atmosphere silent but not awkward. They were lucky that they were decent enough friends with each other that being together wouldn’t be an issue.

However with Y/N and Riki too cowardly to apologize to one another, there was a slight tension in the air that was too thick for Ningning and Beomgyu to handle. The two made subtle eye contact, and nodded.

“Hey Y/N,” Beomgyu started, as he approached the distracted girl. “You look pretty.”

Y/N appreciated Beomgyu and his kindness, but she had wished those words were said by a certain someone instead. But she didn’t want to let her disappointment show, so Y/N did what she did best. Hide everything under her teasing personality. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Hood. I mean for once, you don’t look like you just finished rolling in dirt.”

“Oh please, says the girl who sleeps in trees.”

Riki frowned when he heard Y/N and Beomgyu bantering. Did she normally joke around with him like that? How often did they talk to each other? How long had they been friends?

He couldn’t help but feel himself getting jealous that Y/N teased other guys that weren’t him. Though, he should’ve expected it. After all, she teased everyone. Riki was never an exception. Although, he often wondered if her calling Riki by his last name was something she reserved for him or used on others.

But a thought crossed Riki’s mind. Perhaps he wanted to be the only guy that she teased.

“You’re sooooo jealous right now, aren’t you?” Ningning snuck up behind Riki and whispered in his ear. “She might need a little more than a push in the right direction.”

“Ningning wh-”

Ningning put a finger to Riki’s mouth as he was a little too loud for her liking. “Y/N. Be honest, do you like her?”

“I do.”

Before, he would hesitate before saying that he liked her. But at this point, he was too far down the ladder of love to even want to deny it anymore.

Riki Wonderland was in love with Y/N.

“I love her, Ningning. I always have.”

Ningning smiled. “Tell her that. She needs to hear it now more than ever.”

Riki looked past Ningning to where Beomgyu and Y/N were talking. They were a little in front of him, but far enough to where him and Ningning’s conversation would be inaudible. He admired the way she seemed to skip out of excitement, the way the sun made her look ethereal, and the way she made all her movements seem graceful. He glanced at the way her hand dangled on her side, lonely as ever.

He wanted to be the one to hold it.

After some time, the quartet arrived at the venue. Chaehyun had done amazing with the preparations; Y/N and Ningning couldn’t help but feel proud of their friend for what she did. It had taken a long time of planning, but the dance was finally fully fleshed out. It was truly an amazing feat she took up and she executed it beautifully.

There were pink and red hearts scattered around the room, as well as pink and red falling from the ceiling. The punch and snack table was well decorated with various kinds of snacks and spanned from one side of the room to the other. In the middle, there was a dance floor where Yoon Piper was stationed as the DJ. The room was already packed with most of the students in Ever After High, all high off the adrenaline of doing something so risky.

Beomgyu led Riki to meet up with some of their mutual friends who they spotted in the distance. Jungwon Croakington, Jake Charming, and Sunghoon Winter waved them over when they made eye contact. The group was situated near the punch bowl.

Y/N and Ningning went to find Chaehyun, who was sat alone at a table.

“Hey gorgeous,” Ningning complimented Chaehyun. “What are you doing over here alone?”

“After all the preparation I’m kind of tired. Isn’t that funny? I spent so much time making it perfect that I can’t even enjoy how it turned out.” Chaehyun bitterly laughed. “I was with Sullyoon earlier after she helped me set up, but I didn’t want to dampen her mood so I left.”

“But you look too good tonight not to enjoy it!” Y/N put her hand on Chaehyun’s. “Why don’t we go dance so you can loosen up a bit?”

Chaehyun shook her head. “Maybe later, I don’t think I’m in the mood right Besides, I think someone wants to talk to you right now.”

Before Y/N could ask what she was talking about, Chaehyun nodded her head over to where Liz was standing with a sheepish expression.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Y/N knew part of why Riki had lashed out at her was because Liz said something to him, she wasn’t dumb. But in all honesty, she didn’t hold it against the girl. After all, Liz had never acted maliciously towards her. She definitely had an explanation for what she did.

“I just wanted to say sorry for what happened with Riki.” Liz sighed with an apologetic expression. “I was under the impression that you were going to do something that was going to hurt him, and I was just doing what I thought was right. But I should’ve talked to you about it first and not just made assumptions.”

Y/N put on the most genuine smile she could muster to convince Liz she wasn’t upset with her. “It’s okay, you were just trying to be helpful. It’s my fault for acting this way in the first place. If I didn’t, then people wouldn’t have a reason to suspect me of doing bad things.”

Liz frowned when she said this. Did Y/N really see herself in that way? “But you’re more than just that! Throughout our time at Ever After High, I’ve always admired you.” Y/N’s eyes widened when she said that. “I mean, you’re already ready to sign the Storybook of Legends. Even with all the people who don’t like you, somehow you’ve always seemed to have everything together. And I think that’s really strong of you.”

Hearing that from Liz, knowing that there was someone out there who believed there was more to her than what she displayed, it was relieving.

Because it meant that there was the possibility for her to redefine her legacy.

“Thanks Liz, that means a lot to me.” Y/N gave the blonde a hug. “And… I’m sorry for waking you up from your nap that one time.”

Liz chuckled at the memory she had long forgotten. “It was getting late anyways. Maybe I should thank you instead.”

Once the two had finished their discussion, Liz left to go greet Yuna who had just arrived. That left Y/N… alone? She hadn’t even noticed that Ningning and Chaehyun left during her conversation with Liz. But where did they go?

Y/N’s cat eyes trailed to the side of the room and surely enough, she saw her best friends talking to Beomgyu and some of his friends.

Though, Riki was nowhere to be found.

Despite how scared she was to talk to him still, her conversation with Liz had given her a boost of courage and confidence in herself that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. There was something in her that told her she needed to go find Riki and clear the air, because she was tired of the pettiness.

She wanted Riki back.

Y/N needed to find him, but he was nowhere to be found inside of the venue. She looked all around and asked all the people who could possibly know where he was, but nothing was of any help. That’s when it clicked in her brain and she realized that she knew where Riki was all along, and she just hadn’t thought about it.

Before the night could end, Y/N went outside so she could find Riki.

Just as she had hoped, she had spotted him sitting on the branch of a tree, looking up at the stars. Y/N could notice his bed of fluffy hair from anywhere.

She tried to ignore the incessant racing of her heart while she thought about what she was going to say to him for the first time in a week.

“Is there any more room up here?”

Riki looked down when he heard her voice, the voice he had been waiting to hear all night. Memories from the night they spent stargazing when they were 11 filled his mind, as he shook his head. “I was just coming down.”

Riki climbed down the tree as fast as he could but not too fast to where it would ruin his outfit. He still wanted to look good for Y/N even if they were going through a tough time.

“Are you enjoying the dance so far?” Riki asked once he was on the ground and him and Y/N were facing one another.

There was a slight awkwardness in the air, but it was washed out by the fact that they were just happy to be speaking once again.

Y/N nodded. “Chae did a really good job with everything, even if I haven’t been able to enjoy it all yet.”

“What do you mean?” Riki could tell where she was going, but he wanted to let her speak before he made assumptions.

Swallowing her pride, Y/N looked into Riki’s eyes. Those eyes… she had missed them. There was an unreadable expression on Riki’s face that Y/N could only hope meant he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

She didn’t know that he wanted her more.

“I’m sorry Riki, for everything.” Y/N finally let out. “I’m sorry for pranking you so often, and I’m sorry for crossing lines that should’ve never been crossed. I just found you the most fun to prank, but I never wanted to do it so often to the point that it would make you uncomfortable. But I’m trying to get better at noticing those things.” Riki smiled at the fact that she was finally being vulnerable with him. He had waited years for this to happen. “I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore. That day when we stargazed together, I ran away because I had a fight with my mom. She told me that I wasn’t good for anything, and that I should’ve never been born because I could never continue her legacy anyways. It got really tense between us so I ran away.”

As happy as he was that she was being open with him, he did feel upset with the reasoning. Not because he didn’t like it, but because he was upset it had happened and he couldn’t do anything to take away her pain. To think that she was carrying something so heavy for so long… All Riki wanted to do in that moment was take her pain away.

Riki gave her a sad smile and slowly raised his arms so they would be around his shoulders.

“May I?”

Y/N gave consent and Riki leaned into a hug. It was the first time they had truly been intimate, and it gave both teens a slight fluttery feeling in their stomachs. Faces red and heartbeats synced, the rush of young love was one too overwhelming to bear.

They unknowingly felt themselves succumb deeper and deeper into the feeling of loving one another, both itching to feel more of that lovestruck feeling they always felt when they were together.

“I have one more secret I haven’t told you yet.” Y/N whispered. She was too nervous to use her full voice, as she was afraid that it would come out shaky.

“What is it, Y/N?”

Y/N lifted her head from off of Riki’s shoulder and came face to face with him. Their faces were extremely close but neither wanted to change that. They stared into each other’s eyes for a short moment, though that moment felt longer than it really was.

“Riki, I love you. I always have.” Y/N confessed. “Ever since we first met back in Wonderland, I’ve always found myself drawn to you. And even though I never told you, you helped me a lot that day when I fought with my mom. I only became more infatuated with you from then on, and that’s why I pranked you so much.”

At her confession, Riki felt a wave of relief wash over his entire being. The fact that she felt the same way for so long made him even more giddy on the inside than he already was.

The feeling of having one reciprocate your feelings is something that can’t be replicated elsewhere.

“I love you so much and I don’t know how to handle it. What should I do?” Y/N finally felt comfortable voicing out all her thoughts that they were running out of her mouth like a water stream. She could only thank Riki for that. “How do I fix these feelings?”

Riki mustered up whatever courage was left within him to brush his hand against her lips ever so slightly. “Kiss me.”

After a moment of hesitation, the two leaned into each other until their lips met in a kiss. Both could feel a shock of electricity rush through as their lips melded together like they were always meant to. It only felt right and at that moment, they both realized something.

Perhaps it was all written in the stars.

Though both were inexperienced, so the kiss had ended just as quickly as it started.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Riki realized that he never explicitly stated his feelings to the girl, and he intended on doing so as passionately as he could. “I’ve loved you ever since the first time I saw you pull a prank on someone when we were 8. I’ve always been so interested in you, because you were always an enigma to me. But as we eventually got closer, I felt myself falling deeper in love with you as I learned something about you every day.” Riki was glad to get everything off his chest. “I love you so much that when you got closer to Beomgyu, I lashed out and took it out on you. Because I want to be the only guy you give your attention to.”

“I want to be the only guy you tease.”

Y/N was glad that they were shrouded in the darkness, because her face was burning up more than ever at his words.

She rarely got shy in front of people. But with Riki, the possibilities were endless.

“But I’m sorry for everything I said that day, I was just upset. You don’t make people miserable.” Riki apologized.

“Well I would hope not.” Y/N said with her signature grin, in order to lighten up the mood.

Even though nothing she said was particularly funny, the two found themselves bursting out into laughter. They were running on the emotional high they had gotten from the confessions. But now, knowing that their feelings for each other were felt by the other person, there was nothing left to hide.

Y/N was ready to show every side of her, good, bad, and ugly. Because for once in her life, she noticed that she was more than just the Cheshire Cat’s daughter.

Right then, in that moment, Y/N was capable of being loved for who she really was.

As the night came to a close, they could hear Yoon announce that a slow dance song would be played next from inside the venue.

Riki didn’t have to say any words for Y/N to know what he was going to ask her.

Once the music played, Y/N laid her head on Riki’s shoulders as he led her into a slow dance, their first slow dance as a couple.

Y/N sighed happily into Riki. “You know, you remind me of the stars.”

“Why, because my shirt is blue?” He retorted, referencing the blue top he had worn to the dance.

“No, stupid. I didn’t know why before but I think I figured it out.” Y/N giggled. “The stars are make up the night sky, and they have a place built for them. They’re beautiful. And to me, you’re all of that.”

Riki smiled with nothing but love in his eyes, and kissed Y/N’s forehead. “If I’m the stars, then you’re a constellation. Just like how the constellations connect the stars and make them whole, you do the same for me. You make me feel whole.”

No matter what, Y/N would always look up at the stars and think about Riki. They represented every part of him in his entirety, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Funnily enough, the stars seemed to be shining brighter than usual that night.

The two continued to slow dance into the night, both blinded by the wonders of young love. Being encapsulated by the giddy feelings and speaking sweet nothings to each other was the perfect way to end their story.

Ningning felt her heart swell with pride as she admired the newfound couple. After all the heartbreak Y/N had gone through in her life, it was refreshing to see her genuinely happy for once. She couldn’t help but wonder if she could experience the same soon enough. But that was a problem for another day. This was Y/N’s story, and she was glad to have contributed to her happy ending. She looked between Beomgyu and Chaehyun and nodded.

Chaehyun was relieved to know that Riki and Y/N ended up together. When she looked outside to see for herself if it was true, she let out a long sigh. It was about time.

The future Cupid winked at both of her friends, signaling that their plan had worked.

Perhaps she was better at matchmaking than she thought she was.

authors note. chaehyun beomgyu and ningning best plotters!!!

cheshire taglist. @thesassy-mia @oldjws @enhacatalog @hoonpalettes @star-ism @lprww @asteria-wood

permanent taglist. @muhwaa @hoori @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @carayat @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kivrio @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina (if u requested to be on my permanent taglist and u didn’t get tagged it’s bc i cant see ur acc, but pls dm me if u want to be in it !)

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rikidaze.tbr

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rikidaze

6 months ago

꒰ 💭 ꒱ OH, NIKI YOU’RE SO FINE! ˖ ⌨︎ ⁩◞❪니키❫

— SYNOPSIS ୨୧ ! Lesson learned ! never ever accept a dare from Heesung! Dared to tweet about how attractive your best friend was, you miss-typed ‘m’ with ‘n’ who apparently turned out to be the name of some guy in the basketball team? Oh how embarrassing!

or in which 𓂅 nishimura riki woke up to a sudden paragraph long compliment from his crush (who didn’t even knew he existed)

PART 1/2 OF THE LOVE LASTING DREAM SERIES

— with love on the line ! 𖥻⏱️ ぃ ˑ (pairing) non idol!nishimura riki x non idol!fem reader — 𓄹 ࣪ ִֶָ 🧂 ࣪ ▸

「 GENRE 」 ! STRANGERS to LOVERS, friends? to lovers, he fell first she fell harder, fluff, crack, highschool au, smau w writen parts, kinda one sided crush typa thing.

— the risk, are u willing to take it ? 𖥻🥛ぃ ˑ (featuring) enhypen, winter aespa, beomgyu txt, jeongin skz, minho skz, etc — 𓄹 ࣪ ִֶָ 🎯 ࣪ ▸

「 WARNINGS 」 ! cursing (ofc), denial denial denial!!, anxiety, jealousy, overthinking, angst (w happy ending), dying jokes, kys jokes, and those kinda stuffs

「 NOTES 」 ! This is NOT how i view these idols! this smau is js for fun and crack ykyk as well as js for fictional purposes only! feel free to send asks to talk abt this smau w me!!!

( 💬 means there r written parts! )

NOTICE ! please DO NOT spam like, bc it will shadowban me

「 TAGLIST 」 ! CLOSED

status COMPLETE ! 25/04/23 — 23/06/23 ﹟╳×

CHAPTER INDEX ! ˖ ࣪⭑

⊹ ˚. PROFiLES . . ! ONE ⋮ TWO ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

▹ SIDE A ᶻz

001. omg hit tweet

002. he can pull??

003. u still love me right?

004. let me be delulu

005. lover with a $ sign

006. he’s kinda??

007. help i’m dying here

008. lemme make it up to u

009. careful w ur feelings

010. living the dream

011. just us?

012. ur turning into heeseung

013. cute (friendly) date 💬

014. kay why es

015. watch me?

016. what is this betrayal

017. ykw i get the hype 💬

018. jake’s cupid era

019. sunoo is my rolemodel

020. your biggest supporter 💬

▹ SIDE B ᶻz

021. too much?

022. must’ve been why

023. like she played me

024. sleep well baby riki

025. sunoo has a plan… 💬

026. hi pretty girl

027. not now, not ever 💬

028. what are you planning

029. something feels wrong

030. did i ruin it all?

031. he makes me feel content

032. don’t you get it?

033. i’m sorry

034. your pretty girl

035. you’ll always be my winner

Heeseung spinoff : it’s a wrap!

THE END !!

2K notes View Post

rikidaze

5 months ago

AAAAHHH THIS IS EVERYTHING!!!! I LOVE THIS SHIT!!!!! best friends to lovers?!?!? SIGN ME TF UP!!!!

JUST FRIENDS — n.rk

albeit the lines of your friendship were quite blurred, it still confused you as to why riki was suddenly adamant on having your hair tie on his wrist at all times. given, you know, that it would be basically telling the world that the two of you were dating.

GENRE— fluff, highschool au, friends to lovers

WARNINGS— lots of touching, jealousy, mutual pining but they are both oblivious idiots, cursing, toxicity (they are huge haters imo), kissing, slight making out (?), let me know if I missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 6.4k

NOTE— fluff is my biggest enemy, so this was quite the challenge for me. bnd ver posted here!

YOU AND RIKI WERE CLOSE. Too close, according to the rest of your friends.

You both had been best friends since kindergarten, the story of your meeting never failing to tear a chuckle out of anyone who heard it.

You were three years old, having arrived at kindergarten a few minutes ago. You were scared to go and talk to the other kids — what if they were mean? What if they laughed at your pretty bows? What if they didn't want to play with you?

You sat in one corner, away from the other kids, playing with a small doll. Amidst your playing, you saw little feet approach you. You looked up, noticing a boy of your age. He stared right back at you, before pointing at you. “You are going to be my best friend!”

The boy had later introduced himself to be Riki, and you both had truly become best friends. The two of you were together through thick and thin, never leaving each other's side. There were no secrets between the two of you, the thought itself incredulous. You both were best friends, why on earth would you both hide something from each other?

Your bond was unbreakable, something that left many writhing in envy. How come you both were so close, never able to leave each other's side?

With a good bond, comes judgement. Judgement by others, assumptions about your true relationship.

While you both were close, not everyone knew that you both were best friends, right? To any stranger, you both were the embodiment of 'siblings, or dating?'.

While you both bickered and were playful enough to be termed as siblings, the way you both acted with each other, often left people confused.

See, your love language was physical touch, while his was acts of service. After spending so much time with each other for all these years, you both were bound to rub off on each other, weren't you?

His hand was almost always on your waist, or your shoulders — didn't matter where you guys were, or what you were doing — it was always there. If somehow he forgot to put his hand around you, you would loop your arm around his, or intertwine your hands. It was cute, definitely very cute, but — the extreme couple energy that you both excluded was insane.

It didn't help that you were often touching him, skinship being basically your second nature. You were always fixing his hair, his clothes, touching him while you were speaking to him, while you were laughing with him — how could you both expect anyone to believe that you weren't dating each other?

Not only that, both of you would often be seen giving each other random gifts, without it being a special occasion. You were often seen giving Riki a chocolate at a random time of the day, while he was often delivering milk to you. If anyone asked, he always had the same excuse: “She doesn't drink enough water, she needs to stay hydrated”, while you always said “he likes chocolates, is it so wrong of me to give chocolates to a friend?” Needless to say, they always backed off after that.

It was only after a certain set of incidents that everyone finally had something to confirm that yes, you both were indeed more than friends.

IT WAS A QUARTER PAST SEVEN IN THE MORNING, fifteen minutes left for the start of the first period. You and Riki had arrived at school just five minutes ago, with his hand around your waist as usual. The two of you were giggling at some tea you were spilling regarding a relationship between a senior and a sophmore, since you were physically incapable of keeping things from him. Just as you were getting to the good part of the gossip, one of Riki’s friends from the football team ran up to the two of you. Jake.

“Hey lovebirds!” Jake cheerily waved to the both of you, his tone teasing. You simply rolled your eyes with a smile, having gotten used to the antics of his friends. “Riki, dude, I'm gonna need a favour — one of our frontiers is absent, and none of the subs are available. Please help us out for today's match — I promise I'll make it up to you, even if we don't win. You will even have a customized jersey for the match, which you can keep with yourself permanently–!”

Riki hesitated, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “I don't know, I was planning on leaving early with ___ today, to get ice cream and all…”

You immediately pinched his hand that was around your waist. “He means yes, we can always reschedule the hangout.”

Jake's eyes lit up. “Really?! Thank you so much, you have no idea how desperately we needed another player — I'll go tell the others now, you can come and practice with us during recess!”

Just before he could leave, you halted him, getting out of Riki's grasp. “Jake, wait–”

He stopped on the spot, looking at you with a confused gaze. “Something wrong?”

You stepped forward, brushing some hair out of his face gently, smoothing the slightly messy hair on top of head. You took a step back. “There you go, the mess was bothering me.”

He blinked, a faint red coating his cheeks and creeping up his neck. He was well aware of your touchy nature, but this was the first time he was on the receiving end of it, hence his flustered state. “O-Oh, thanks — I- I'll go now–”

He quickly turned on his heel and left, a light jog evident in his retreating figure. You turned back towards Riki, a smile on your face. “Let's go to class, or else we might be late.”

He nodded, his arm looping around your waist once more, guiding you around the busy halls, to class. You couldn't help but notice the slightly tighter grip he had on your waist, or the way his expression was different than his usual when you turned back towards him.

CLASS WAS BORING AS USUAL. The two of you sat at the back of class, messing around as usual instead of studying. Yet, there was something amiss.

Usually, Riki was a lot more playful, a lot more relaxed and free around you. Currently however, there seemed to be an air of hesitation, reluctance around him. His smile didn't exactly reach his eyes, his laughter feeling forced.

‘Maybe he just isn't feeling it today?’ was what you thought, so you didn't bother asking. You knew if something was seriously bothering him, he would have told you already.

Before long, the bell rang, signifying recess. You quickly held Riki's hand, pulling him out of his seat, and racing into the hall. You both had already eaten in class, — how you both never get caught, is a mystery you're both yet to solve — so he would have the entire recess to practice with the rest of the football team for the match that was going to take place later on.

You both quickly navigate your way to the football ground, spotting Jake and the rest of the team doing lazy stretches to warm up first. He spotted the two of you quickly enough, waving and rushing over to where you both were standing.

“Hey,” he began, a grin adorning his face. “I'm so glad you didn't change your mind — ___, you can sit on the benches and watch if you'd like, I'm sure the others won't mind! Also, coach got the customized jersey done already — no idea how he got it done so quickly — it's there in the locker rooms, so you can change into that right now if you'd like!”

You admired his ability to yap continually without stopping, making you smile a little. You nodded in his direction, nudging Riki to go and change already, before quickly walking over to the benches and taking a seat.

Soon enough, Riki was back, adorning the jersey, making your jaw drop. You couldn't take your eyes off him — you had never seen him in attire similar to that before, but damn, he sure did look amazing.

Your face flushed slightly, as you quickly tried to snap out of these thoughts. Nope, that's your best friend, you're not going to think of him in that sense.

You watched as they all played, Riki surprisingly being able to keep pace with them. You never watched him play before, the sight drawing you in like a moth to a flame. His concentration was — were you blushing?!

God, what was wrong with you? Had you been single for so long that the sight of your best friend simply practicing in the field had you all giddy?

The rest of the recess went on smoothly, with you trying not to concentrate on Riki too much, lest someone caught you with your cheeks on fire. God, you really needed to get yourself together.

Once practice was over, Riki quickly went to you, his usual smile back on face. You handed him a bottle of water, quickly wiping his sweat off him. He started babbling while you were doing so. “Did you see that? I did pretty good back there, right? Jake said that he was confident we would win the match today, and said I was better than the guy I'm subbing for! Isn't that great?”

You let out a hum, finishing wiping off his sweat. “Yea, you were amazing. C'mon now, we need to run, or else we will be late for history — you know how ma'am gets when someone is even two seconds late.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He didn't need to know that you weren't exactly watching much of what he was doing, or that you were only watching him.

AS SOON AS THE BELL FOR THE LAST PERIOD RANG, nearly the whole school raced to the grounds. All the players, including Riki, ran to the locker rooms to change, whereas the rest of the students quickly found the best seats possible.

You sat at the very front, a bottle of water and a towel already in your hands. You were a little tense for the match, since the opponent team seemed to be extremely well prepared. Still, you tried to not let your mind wander, focusing on Riki, as he came out of the locker rooms, into the field.

The match started. The opposing team was putting up a good defense, but Riki’s team was able to keep up. It was hard to watch, the many nearly-goals and nearly-fouls heightening your nerves. You tried to not let them get to your head, focusing instead on cheering for Riki.

Half time arrived soon enough, with both the teams having scored one goal each. Riki came straight to you, quickly taking the bottle from your hand, gulping it all down. He gave you a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I'm really nervous for the match. The opposing team is… starting to get angry. I don't think they expected us to keep up, so they were a little dumbfounded. But now they are simply pissed — they aren't exactly known for being the fairest when it comes to playing football, and winning.”

You bit your lip, wiping off his sweat with the towel. “But they can't use unfair means to win, can they? They will get a foul…”

Your words died down on your tongue once you noticed his grim expression. “If they somehow injured one of us, leaving us incapable of playing, what is one red card going to do? They have subs available, we don't. If one of us is out, the match would already be lost.”

You didn't know what to say in order to encourage or comfort him. You knew that the reputation of their opponents wasn't the best, but there was nothing anyone could do, other than to stay safe and try their best. So that's what you told him.

He gave you an amused smile. A teasing glint appeared in his eyes.“You sound worried. Are you scared that they might hurt me?”

You scowled at him. “This isn't a joke! They could actually injure you, can't you just give me your word that you will at least try to stay safe?”

He let out a small snicker, before giving you a mock salute. “Of course ma'am. Just do me a favour, will you?”

You tilted your head to the side. A favour? Now? You decided not to question it. “Sure I can. But it depends on what it is.”

He grinned at you, before pulling his jersey off him, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. That explained why he was sweating more than the others. Who even wears two layers to a football match?

He shoved it in your chest. “Wear it, and cheer for me.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “No way! It's literally drenched in your sweat.”

He pouted, giving you a pleading look. “Please? For me? It's only for an hour and a half, can't you do it? I'll feel a lot more motivated then. C'mon, just do it, please–”

You groaned at his incessant begging. “Fine! I'll wear it — just… ugh, help me out with it–”

The grin on his face grew, as he quickly helped slide the jersey onto you. He proudly made you twirl for him, with you hiding your face in your hands from the utter embarrassment of it — but complying nonetheless. Unbeknownst to you, a smug smirk adorned his face, as he locked eyes with Jake in the process, who quickly looked away, his ears turning red at having been caught looking.

The whistle sounded again, signifying the start of the second half. Riki quickly left, the hurried ‘good luck!’ that you threw at him bringing a smile to his face.

You watched as he advanced into the field with renowned vigour, the determined expression on his face soothing your nerves slightly. You made sure to cheer for him even louder than before, the grin that he threw your way making it worth the looks that were shot in your direction.

But the opposing team did not relent. Eager to match Riki's newfound enthusiasm, they changed their strategies. The brutality in every move that they made caused your anxiety to spike.

Riki's team, however, didn't let it deter them. Everyone was determined to win, to not succumb to the team that always tries to get their way through unfair means.

Speaking of unfair means, the attempts at making foul moves increased ten-fold. Many of the players in Riki's team were almost injured, but somehow they managed to avoid it at the last second. Why the referee wasn't giving any yellow cards, was beyond your imagination.

The clock was ticking down. Not a single goal had been made. The audience was starting to lose hope, the enthusiasm in their cheers starting to fade. You made sure to continue screaming, cheering them on as best as you could. In the midst of it all, Riki glanced at you. Upon seeing the expression on your face, he made it his personal mission to win. He had to, for you. He wasn't going to disappoint you, he swore to himself.

With a determined look, he surged forward, trying to get to the ball. Jake had the ball, and he locked eyes with him. Upon noticing the younger’s determined expression, he managed to pass the ball to him.

Riki caught the ball without any interceptions, quickly racing towards the goal. He skillfully avoided all the attempts to tackle him, running as fast as possible to the goal. The goalkeeper froze, upon noticing the expression on his face.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, he struck. With a sudden burst of strength, he kicked the ball, watching as it flew into the goalpost, the goalkeeper just narrowly missing it.

The sudden uproar that erupted was deafening to say the least. His teammates were hugging and whooping, patting him on the back. The exhilarating feeling that came from the win, made him feel lighter, as if he was on cloud nine.

His eyes searched for you, noticing you trying to get past the huge crowd towards him. He quickly navigated his way out of the crowd, making his way towards you. As soon as he was in front of you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, making you squeal, as he picked you up and spun you in the air. His grin was wide, your own grin almost as wide as his. “We won! We actually fucking won! Did you see my last goal? I looked cool right? I still can't believe I actually made the goal–”

In the midst of his yapping, one of your friends was wiping his sweat off for him. While you tried to not let it show, you couldn't help the jealousy that flared inside you at the intimate gesture. You were supposed to do it for him, not her. Riki didn't even seem to notice, too focused on telling you the details — as if you didn't witness it all by yourself.

Unable to bear the sight of her wiping off his sweat with a random towel, you grabbed his hand, pulling him away. You both set into a sprint, away from the people congratulating him.

As soon as you reached a somewhat secluded region of the school, you turned to him, your arms crossed over your chest. But before you could speak, he spoke first, his breathing coming in short pants. “Goddamn woman, I just won a match, you're already making me run again? Cut me some slack, will you?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his outburst. “Why did you let her do it?”

He looked at you, confused. “Huh? Let who do what…?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Her. You let her wipe off your sweat for you — don't tell me that you didn't notice it at all?!”

He still looked confused. “Huh? Someone did that? I didn't even realise — I was talking to you, so I was distracted, I guess. But why does it matter?”

You gave him a pointed look, frustration evident in your eyes. Why wasn't he getting it?! “‘Why does it matter?’ Because I'm your best friend! I always do it for you, so why would you let her do it as well? If I'm your best friend, then shouldn't I get treated as such? Shouldn't I be treated differently from the rest of our friends? Why are you letting her do something that only I do to you?”

His eyes widened, before he frowned. “I didn't even notice her doing it… but if I should treat you differently from the rest of our friends, shouldn't you do the same to me as well? Why should this be a one-sided arrangement?”

Now it was your time to frown. “One-sided? How is this one-sided?! I always treat you differently, how have I ever treated you similar to the rest of our friends?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, I don't know, maybe yesterday? When you fixed Jake's hair for him? Since when did you start fixing people's hair other than mine?”

You were at a loss for words. You simply opened and closed your mouth several times, like a fish out of water.

Riki spoke again. “How about this: I pay more attention to my surroundings, while you keep your hands to yourself? Don't go around touching other people's hair, that should be reserved for me only. Do we have a deal?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Fine. We have a deal.”

You usually didn't back down from fights that easily. But everything seemed to be different when it involved Riki.

TRUE TO YOUR DEAL, the two of you didn't treat others even remotely similar to how you treated each other anymore. Both of you grew much closer than before. People could easily pick up on the change in the air around the two of you, the shippers going slightly insane. When were the two of you going to announce your relationship officially?

Neither of you paid much attention to those silly rumours, always dismissing the teasing. Friends were allowed to be possessive of each other, were they not? Was it a crime to want some things to be just between you guys, and not for everyone else to know and judge?

Days went by the same, the teasing never stopped. But it was always there from the very beginning of your friendship, not just from classmates, but outsiders and family members as well. Both of you had grown used to it.

Recently, both you and Riki had noticed the trend of wearing hair ties on wrists. While it wasn't an uncommon sight for girls, it certainly was for boys. What do they need a hair tie for, when their hair is so short?

It was quickly discovered that the hair ties were actually of their girlfriends’, them wearing it on their wrists being a sign of commitment — and the general fact that they had a girlfriend.

Of course, it flared jealousy among those who weren't in a relationship — including you and Riki. Both of you glared in resentment at anyone who had a hair tie on their wrist, always greeting them with a bitchy eye roll. Both of you, like every other single person, loved to hate on couples, betting on when they would break up, if they were cheating on their partner, and whatnot. You both were always met with the same responses: ‘Just wait till you get into a relationship.’

Your responses were the same too. The same eye roll, paired with a pissed off comment, either mocking them, or talking about how neither of you would ever bother with dating anyone. Everytime, you both were met with an exchange of amused glances. Neither of you ever understood that they meant when you both would get together.

It started to get unbearable after a while, with almost everyone wearing a hair tie on their wrist. It was frankly starting to annoy Riki a lot, to the point that he snapped at his friends, which was uncharacteristic of him. It was only then that the guys gave him the obvious solution: to wear a hair tie as well.

Wearing a hair tie on his wrist was easier said than done. For Christ’s sake, he didn't have a girlfriend! Why would he wear a hair tie on his wrist, when he didn't have someone's to wear?

But then a crazy thought struck him. He may not have a girlfriend, but he definitely had a girl best friend. You. He could wear your hair tie on his wrist, right?

Turns out, you didn't share the same views as him.

“ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT. Where did you even get this crazy idea from?!”

Riki bit his lip, rubbing his nape sheepishly. “Well — the guys keep teasing me, so I got desperate, and… uhm…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes, and sighing. “Riki, you're aware that only couples wear hair ties on their wrists, right? We,” You gestured between the two of you. “are not a couple. You wearing my hair tie on your wrist would be indicating that I'm your girlfriend. Which I'm clearly not. Let's not give everyone another incentive to tease us, yea?”

He let out a groan. “Oh, c’mon, who cares what others think? We can just — make an excuse — tell them that I'm wearing it because you keep losing your hair ties, so I'm basically your hair tie holder. How does that sound?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “No one will ever buy that shitty excuse.”

He scowled at you. “Oh, like you could come up with something better.”

You nodded enthusiastically, although it was completely sarcastic. “Of course I can! We forget this conversation! Because we both know what the hair tie would indicate. Not just to others, but between us too.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I don't care. I'm going to wear one.”

You rolled your eyes. But before you could open your mouth to retort, Riki grabbed the hair tie that you used to meticulously tie your hair into a ponytail and pulled.

You watched in shock, as your hair came undone, your hair tie now in his hand. With a smug smirk, he wore it on his wrist, showing it to you proudly, before going off to his class. “Bye ___! See you after this period!”

Oh, he was definitely going to see you. Maybe two of you or even more, depending on how hard you punch him.

JUST AS EXPECTED, you both were on the receiving end of everyone’s teasing, becoming the new hot topic of your school. No matter how much you both tried to ignore it, it just didn’t work.

Questions about whether you both were secretly dating or not followed you both left and right, comments assuming the status of your relationship were thrown about casually — it was simply too much. None of your friends believed you either, their cheeky smiles and teasing comments following you both everywhere.

All because of Riki’s obsession with wanting to wear your hair tie.

At some point you both got sick of trying to clear up the accusations, just letting people think what they wanted to. After all, their assumptions and comments weren’t going to magically come true, just because they think a certain way.

Right?

THE TEASING HAD GOTTEN TO A POINT WHERE NEITHER OF YOU COULD STAND IT ANYMORE, causing you both to avoid people as much as possible. Did no one understand the concept of personal space anymore? Or did they forget that minding their own damn business would always be more fruitful than trying to gather tea about other people’s love lives, or lack thereof?

Most of the time, you both hung out in the library or rooftop, sometimes even resorting to taking refuge in the janitor’s closet, that’s how much you both were affected by the constant teasing. How come everyone was so damn invested in the love life of you both, when it didn’t even concern them in the slightest?

Today was no different. From the morning, all you both could hear were comments like ‘So when are you guys planning on making it official?’, ‘When will you both drop the bomb?’, ‘Don’t bother lying, it’s too obvious that you both are super into each other.’, etc., etc. Your fist was clenched tightly by your side, Riki’s grip on your waist also tighter than usual. The urge to punch them in the faces was extremely high. When were they going to get bored of teasing you both?

In order to escape them, Woohak steered you through the crowd, escaping into the stairway. The two of you quickly climbed up the stairs, going to the rooftop. You pushed the door to the terrace open, the cold wind whipping in your faces. Riki slammed the door shut behind him using his foot, his hand never leaving your waist.

You went towards the railing, leaning on top of it. Riki finally let go of your waist, leaning on the railing beside you. Neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze, and the majestic view of the cityscape beneath. The cars and people looked quite tiny from up there, like ants, which was to be expected, given that your school building was eight stories tall.

Suddenly, Riki cleared his throat. He spoke up, his voice low, eyes facing his front. “Do the rumours and the constant teasing bother you too much?”

You snapped your head towards him, your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “Where is this coming from?”

He looked at you. “You know, the constant questions and comments that are thrown in our way? It just — it got me thinking: ‘What if it all bothered you too much? What if our friendship isn’t worth all the comments and excessive teasing we face?’ Just stuff like that.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Oh my god — don’t you ever think like that, you hear me? Just because some people like to be annoying and poke their big ass nose in our goddamn business, doesn’t mean our friendship isn’t worth the trouble. Do you really care about other people’s opinions enough to end our friendship? Just like that?”

He quickly shook his head. “No no no, absolutely not — I just thought… actually, nevermind. I thought the rumours were making you uncomfortable, I’m glad I was wrong.”

A hint of a smile crept up your face, as you looked in front of you again. “A few silly comments can never make me break my friendship with you. You’re my best friend, aren’t you? Best friends are supposed to stick together, no matter what. Through thick and thin, all of our ups and downs Riki.”

He looked in front of him again, letting out a scoff, which was supposed to be an amused one, but it came out more bitter than intended. “Yea, best friends… that’s all we'll ever be…”

The last part was quiet, but you still heard it. The tips of your ears burned, a flush creeping up your neck. You quickly tried to change the subject. “L-Let’s try something.”

He furrowed his brows, looking at you again. “Try what?”

You bit your lip, quickly trying to think of something. “Uhm — let’s climb the railing and sit on it! Sounds fun, right?”

He raised a brow. “Absolutely not. That’s the stupidest, and most dangerous idea you’ve ever had, and that’s saying something.”

You pouted. “Come on, it’s not that bad — the railings are sturdy, we won’t fall.”

Riki firmly shook his head. “Nope. You want to climb it? Be my guest. But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you when you fall off and possibly break your leg. Or an arm. Or crack open your skull. Either way, I will say ‘I told you so’.”

You rolled your eyes, beginning to climb it up. “Oh shut up — I’m sure you would love to goad about it, if I fell off. You revel in my misery after all, don’t you–?”

You got cut off by a yelp of your own, your hand slipping. Riki immediately came to your rescue, pulling you off the railing. In complete and utter fear of the sudden momentary lapse of judgement that almost caused you to fall off the roof, you turned around, hugging him tightly.

He held you close, wrapping his own arms around your waist. He could feel your heart beating erratically in your chest, matching his own. He couldn’t believe how stupid and unaware of your surroundings you were.

He glared down at how you buried your head in his chest, in disbelief of your previous actions. You were shaking slightly in his hands, but he didn’t care. “Are you fucking insane?! You knew that was dangerous, why on earth would you still try to climb the damned railings? For the love of god, you could have fallen off and died!”

You meekly raised your head, preparing to retort, before freezing. He was so, so close. You could make out every single detail on his face, every freckle, every pore, every single blemish. Yet, he was so… mesmerizing.

Riki’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down at you. His voice took a softer edge, a gentle note evident in it. “Promise me that you will never…”

Too lost in his eyes, you didn’t hear him. His voice and every other noise faded to the background, your sole focus being on his eyes. They were pulling you in, drowning you in them. Like a siren luring an unsuspecting victim.

Your lips parted slightly, as you kept staring at him, his warm breath fanning your face. He swallowed hard, realizing exactly how close you were. The adrenaline pumping in his veins was fucking with his head, thoughts of what your lips would feel like against his filling his mind. His eyes flickered down to your parted lips, the urge growing, before they quickly darted back up to your eyes, meeting your gaze once again. “Promise me.”

The words seemed to be stuck in your throat, which suddenly felt parched. “I…”

His breath hitched, eyes fixed on your parted lips once again. His heart was still racing, the world seeming to narrow down to just the two of you, standing flush together on the roof. “You…” He whispered, leaning just a fraction closer without realizing it. “You what?” It came out softer than intended, just a barely audible murmur.

You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, wetting it with your saliva. The words tumbled out of your mouth, without you even realizing it. “God, you’re so pretty…”

Riki’s world seemed to stop, his mind going blank. His grip on your waist tightened slightly. “What did you say?” He whisper-hissed, leaning just a tad bit closer. His gaze flickered down to your lips again. The shift in the atmosphere around the two of you was becoming impossible to ignore, becoming electric with unsaid words and unacted-upon impulses.

You blinked, biting down on your lip. There was no going back now. “You’re pretty…”

His heart skipped a beat, then another, then another. He could barely believe what he was hearing — no one had ever called him ‘pretty’ before. Sure, he had heard other words: handsome, attractive, stunning, eye-catching — but ‘pretty’? Never did he hear that one before. But damn, he would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart race — probably more than the other praises ever did. It was a word typically reserved for women, but hearing it from you directed towards him? It made his brain short-circuit.

He asked you again, just to confirm. “Pretty?”

You nodded, no longer scared of his reaction. “Very much so.”

He felt his cheeks flush again at the unusual comment. He was blushing, and he never blushed. But everything seemed to be different when he was around you.

His mind was reeling, as he tried to process this new information. You, his best friend, thought he was pretty. He leaned even closer, his lips just a hair breath away from yours now. “You really think I’m pretty?” He whispered, his voice just barely audible.

You gulped, nodding. “Yea — yea, I do.”

His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest, his breathing shallow. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the closeness of your lips, the way you were looking up at him. It was starting to all fade out into white noise, the sound of his rapidly beating heart in his ears. His eyes zeroed in on your parted lips, and something in him snapped.

Throwing all rational thought out of the window, he closed the barely there gap between your both, softly pressing his lips to yours. Your lips were as soft as a cloud, feeling pillowy against his. The kiss was brief, barely more than a whisper. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was enough to make his heart jump out of his chest, into his throat. When he pulled back, his eyes were as wide as saucers, surprised by his own boldness. “I–”

You didn’t let him complete his sentence. You grabbed his face, cupping it with both hands, pulling his face towards yours again. You kissed him again, with a lot more vigour, pouring out your pent up feelings into the kiss.

He was caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, but he melted into it. His hands pulled you even closer, as if trying to meld your body into his. He parted his lips, deepening the kiss, as he felt your arms wrap around his neck, pulling you even closer.

One of his hands came up to your face, cupping it, tilting his own to further deepen the kiss. The lack of air was starting to hurt, despite how addicting your lips were. He pulled back slowly, not before gently biting down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, before letting go of it with a pop.

You felt a little dazed, but still smiled up at him, your eyes slightly hazy and unfocused. He chuckled at your state, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Pretty, huh?”

Your cheeks grew warmer at the teasing undertone in his voice. “Shut up. I meant it, you know.”

His grin grew wider, as he kissed your cheek. “I know. I hope this is a good time to say that I like you? Like, I really fucking like you, I was just scared to confess because of the recent situation… with the excessive teasing and all… and, well, the fear of rejection.”

You hit his arm. “You silly goose — if I didn’t like you back, do you think I would behave the way I do with you? Absolutely not. You’re lucky I put up with your antics, you know.”

He rolled his eyes, although there was a smile on his face, one which he didn’t bother hiding. “You know, the hair tie was just a ploy? I just wanted any potential suitors to back off of you, but I didn’t expect people to react like… that.”

You let out a giggle. “I figured. It was honestly a really cute, albeit smart move on your part. Certainly made everyone back off… only to approach us with a different reason.”

He smiled down at you, his expression utterly lovesick. His eyes were practically resembling hearts. “D’you think if we announced it officially they would finally stop?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. Hopefully yes. But — in order to make it official, you need to ask me first, you know? Learn to be a gentleman, Riki.” The last bit was just you teasing him, something that he caught on to pretty quickly.

He playfully rolled his eyes, before speaking theatrically. “Fine — would you like to do the honour of becoming my girlfriend, ___? Wait no, scratch that — would you make me the happiest man alive by letting me take the position of your boyfriend?”

You scoffed in amusement at his dramatics, before pretending to think. “Take me out on a date first, then I will think of it.”

He gave you a smug grin, a determined glint in his eyes. “Deal.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST— @senascoooop

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rikidaze.recc enhypen: ni ki

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rikidaze

2 months ago

urs | p.sh (18+)

You weren't supposed to want more, but you did. What started as a casual fling became more complicated when you found yourself caught between your desire and the reality that Park Sunghoon's heart belonged to someone else.

Genre: college au, situationship, smut Pairing: Park Sunghoon x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), NOT PROOFREAD. I'll come back to do that when I can lol. Notes: 10k words. Listening to urs by NIKI. My first Sunghoon fic and it's written on a whim! lol. I wrote this instead of working on my overdue wip lol. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

Enjoy~

You first met Park Sunghoon at a frat party you had no real interest in attending. It was the first night of the semester, the music was good, the drinks were flowing, and the energy was exactly what you needed. It was the kind of night that made you feel young and invincible, where bad decisions were just part of the fun. And tonight, you were on a mission: hook up with a hot guy.

It was a promiscuous mission, you knew that. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t that kind of girl because you were! But you weren’t the reckless, messy type. No, you were the smart kind of promiscuous. The kind who could have fun without losing control. You were practical about it—always sober enough to make sound decisions, always keeping your boundaries clear. Simply put, you were the best type of promiscuous.

As a college girl with ambitions, you couldn’t afford to get tangled in romance and all that commitment nonsense. Too much work. But you had needs, and fulfilling them meant nights like this—scanning the crowd for a guy who could tickle your fancy, no strings attached.

That was how you spotted him.

Tall, handsome, but oddly out of place. While the rest of the party thrived on the chaos, he stood by himself in a corner. He had a cup in his hand, but it wasn’t like he was enjoying it. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else—his posture slouched just enough to suggest he wasn’t a part of this. He had that bored, almost irritable look on his face, the kind that made you wonder if he was only here because someone dragged him along.

You were not the type to hesitate, so you didn’t. You’d done this enough times to know exactly what you were after, and right now? You were after him.

“Is this your first frat party, or are you just too cool for it?” you asked, leaning in just enough to get his attention.

He glanced at you, his eyes flicking over your face for a second before landing on your lips, then back up to your eyes. Up close, he was even more good-looking—long lashes, sharp features, lips that curled just slightly at the corners like he was already amused by you, and a couple of beauty marks on his face that made him even more striking.

He was definitely your type.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” you added, taking a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact.

“That obvious?” he asked, his voice low, almost melodic.

You smirked, liking the way his voice was as perfect as his looks. “You look miserable,” you pointed out, still grinning.

He chuckled lightly, amused but not exactly thrilled. “What about you? Having fun?”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t. But right now, I think I might be…” You let your gaze wander, deliberately slow, from his face to the exposed skin of his chest where a few buttons were undone.

Sunghoon smirked, his gaze trailing over you in a way that was appreciative without being too obvious. “Well, that makes two of us,” he replied suggestively.

He flirted right back!

“I’m Sunghoon,” he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it and gave him your name.

Your eyes locked with his—now more curious, sizing him up. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you staring each other down, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts with your hands still joined. Then you saw a flicker in his eyes that made you come to an agreement with your own intuition.

You tilted your head, eyes still locked with his. “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

His eyes widened slightly, his brows lifting in surprise—visibly caught off guard by your suggestion. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn’t let go completely. You kept your gaze steady, showing no hesitation and letting him know you were serious. A few seconds of silence passed where you almost thought he’d say no, but then he exhaled a soft laugh.

“Are you always this forward?” he asked, amused now.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Only when I see someone I like.”

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you like me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

With that, his smirk widened, and before you could second-guess yourself, he set his cup down. “My place or yours?”

And just like that, you were out of the party and heading to whatever the hell came next. No strings, no pressure. Just the way you liked it.

You didn’t know it then, but that was when the tsunami that would come crashing in began to take shape.

You didn’t mean for it to happen again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing—fun, uncomplicated. But he was phenomenal, so it happened a second time. And a third. And eventually, you just lost count.

Maybe it was because, other than the fact that he was really good at it, he was also easy to be around. He wasn’t like the others—the ones who got clingy after a night or acted like they were doing you a favor by sleeping with you. Sunghoon was different. He never overstayed his welcome, never asked for more than you were willing to give, but he wasn’t distant either. If anything, he was… nice.

Not in a fake, trying-too-hard way. Just nice. Made you feel comfortable, always made sure you finished before he did, and never left without saying something witty that made you roll your eyes. He had this way of being detached but not cold, like he had mastered the art of keeping things casual without being an asshole.

“You know,” you mused, sprawled across his bed, still catching your breath, “my first impression of you was that you were boring and miserable. Turns out you know how to make a girl have fun.”

Standing by his closet, Sunghoon threw you an amused glance as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. “Yeah? I aim to please.”

You smirked. “That sounds like something a guy who thinks he’s good in bed would say.”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, looking almost too put-together for someone who had just spent an hour between your legs. “And? Am I not?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You’re alright.”

He scoffed, tossing a pillow at you, which you barely dodged. “You’re a bad liar.”

You grinned, stretching lazily. “Well, I can’t have you getting a big head, can I?”

Sunghoon shook his head, his lips curling into that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Too late for that.”

It was easy. Too easy. Maybe that’s why you let it keep happening.

Behind closed doors, there was no restraint. It didn’t matter if it was your place or his—once the door was closed, your hands were on his neck, his lips found your skin, and clothes barely made it past the foyer before being discarded.

Sunghoon was incredible in bed. He was controlled, precise, yet somehow still desperate when he kissed you, when he pressed you against the mattress, when he groaned your name like it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. And you? You had mastered the art of making him unravel.

You knew exactly what made him weak, how to turn his composure into incoherence, how to make him grip your waist a little harder or breathe your name in a way that made your stomach flip. It was exhilarating, effortless—two people who just fit perfectly when it came to this.

But outside? You were mere acquaintances.

A nod in the hallway. A fleeting smile across the quad. If you happened to pass each other at a party, he’d tip his cup in your direction, and you’d lift a brow in acknowledgment. No one knew. No one suspected a thing. And you liked it better that way. You were both civil and could control your urges.

Except for when you couldn’t.

Like now.

You were leaving class when Sunghoon caught your wrist, pulling you into an empty lecture hall.

“What—”

He kissed you before you could finish, his hands already gripping your hips, pressing you against the nearest desk. The kiss was hot, urgent, like he had been holding back all day.

“Wow, I think you missed me a little,” you teased when he finally pulled away, breathless.

Sunghoon scoffed, but his fingers traced the sleeve of your dress like he wasn’t done with you yet. “You should wear this more often.”

You smirked. “What? Hoon, you did not pull me in here just because I’m wearing a dress.”

“It’s a really nice dress,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck. His hand slipped under your dress, squeezing your thighs firmly. When the familiar warmth started creeping up your chest, you held his hand to stop him.

“This is not a good idea,” you told him, smiling at the puppy-like look on his face.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he regretted his own impulse. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then you heard the sound of voices just outside the door.

In an instant, Sunghoon stepped back, running a hand through his hair like nothing had happened. You casually adjusted your dress. When the door creaked open, and a couple of students poked their heads in, you and Sunghoon were already on opposite sides of the room.

“Is this Professor Smith’s class?” one of them asked just as you spotted the same name written on the board in front.

“It is,” you said smoothly, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you strode past Sunghoon without so much as a glance.

Outside, in the open air, you felt his presence behind you, his steps easy and unhurried. As you reached the main path to the quad, he finally passed you, his shoulder brushing yours just slightly.

“See you around,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You smirked, not looking back. “See you around.”

But even with all of that, you could tell he was drawing a line between you. He didn’t have to say it. You could see it in the way he never texted first, the way he kissed you like he meant it but pulled away too quickly after. The way he made you laugh but never let the moment linger too long.

And maybe you should have done the same.

You didn’t mean to fall for him. You really didn’t. But it was hard not to when, in between the sneaking around and the mind-blowing sex, Sunghoon was just... Sunghoon. Nice and thoughtful in a way that made it almost impossible to keep things casual.

Like when the lightbulb in your room went out, and he arrived at your place with a new one, climbed on a chair, and replaced it himself.

“I was gonna do that, you know,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall, watching him screw the new bulb into place. “I’m just a little busy these days.”

He climbed down, dusting his hands off. “Yeah, but can you even reach that high?”

You rolled your eyes, but when he patted your head like you were some kid, you didn’t swat his hand away. Instead, you found yourself watching him as he moved around your space so easily.

Or the way he always refilled your bedside tumbler before he left your place. You didn’t even notice it at first, but one morning, you woke up, throat dry, and reached for it instinctively—only to realize it was full. Ice-cold. Like he had just topped it off before slipping out.

And then there was the night you were cramming for an exam, drowning in highlighter ink and frustration, when your door swung open, and Sunghoon walked in like he owned the place.

“I’m about to become your favorite person in the world,” he announced, dropping a thick stack of papers on your desk.

You blinked up at him. “What is this?”

“My old notes,” he said, ruffling your hair before plopping onto your bed like he had all the time in the world. “They’re neat. Better than whatever middle school doodles you have going on.”

You flipped through them, and he wasn’t lying—his notes were immaculate. Organized, highlighted, complete with diagrams. You stared at them, then at him, sprawled out on your bed like he had no idea what he’d just done.

“You didn’t strike me as a guy who took his studies seriously,” you teased, although you didn’t really think that way about him.

Sunghoon smirked, turning his head to look at you. “Why? Did you think the only thing I knew how to do was make your legs shake?”

You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t stop the warmth creeping up your chest. “Be real, Hoon. You’re not that good.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” he lilted, his eyes shifting back to his phone.

You fell for him because hookups weren’t supposed to be this thoughtful. Hookups weren’t supposed to linger after sex to fix your lightbulb or make sure you stayed hydrated. They weren’t supposed to look after you in ways so small, so casual, that you almost missed them.

You caught yourself wondering. Did he care about you more than just a hookup? Or worse—did you want him to?

You were at a café with your friends when his name came up.

It started casually enough—half-listening to the conversation while stirring the melting ice in your drink, until one of them, Lily, suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, I saw Sunghoon at your apartment complex the other day. Didn’t know you guys were neighbors.”

Your hand stilled, heartbeat picking up pace at the sudden mention of his name. You blinked once, twice, before mustering up an easy shrug. “Huh. Neither did I.”

Lily laughed, oblivious. “Right? He was coming out of your building. I was gonna say hi, but he looked like he was in a hurry.”

Across the table, Tammy tilted her head. “Maybe he was visiting someone? From what I know, he lives with Jake in a different neighborhood.”

“Maybe,” Lily mused, sipping her drink. Then, as if the thought just occurred to her, she added, “Oh! You and Jenna are neighbors, right?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know any Jenna.”

“Jenna! The girl who won the poll for prettiest student last year!” she explained, her expression turning conspiratorial. “She’s Sunghoon’s ex.”

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

Lily went on, oblivious. “Guess he’s still hoping she’ll take him back.”

The words landed like a slap. You almost asked her to repeat herself, but the way Tammy nodded in understanding told you that you heard right.

“Yeah,” Tammy said. “They were together for two years. I heard he was really sad when they broke up.”

Lily clicked her tongue. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did get back together. They were that couple, you know?”

That couple. The ones who belonged together. The ones who had history, real history—not just stolen moments behind closed doors.

You swallowed, forcing a small smirk. “Didn’t know you guys were keeping up with Sunghoon’s love life like this.”

Lily nodded. “Jenna and I used to hang out when I was still in the council.”

Then she started rambling about their history, how Jenna broke Sunghoon’s heart, how he never really moved on. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but your mind was stuck on every moment you spent with him. The way he pulled you closer in his sleep, how he never let you walk home alone, the way he looked at you sometimes—like maybe you were something more special to him.

But you weren’t. You weren’t the one he wanted. You never were. And just like that, the guessing game was over.

He didn’t want you like you wanted him. You were genuinely just a fling.

Still, you smiled, made some joke that had your friends laughing, and sipped your drink like nothing was wrong. Like your stomach hadn’t just dropped to the floor.

Later, when you saw Sunghoon again—when he let himself into your apartment with that lazy smirk, hands already reaching for you—you didn’t hesitate. You let him touch you, let him kiss you like nothing had changed.

Because for him, nothing had.

And if he didn’t know the difference or couldn’t see the shift, then you sure as hell weren’t going to show him.

Does it make sense to want your ex back and exclusively sleep with someone else? NO.

It was stupid. Sunghoon was stupid. That was what you told yourself every time the thought crossed your mind—every time you caught yourself comparing.

You never voiced it out loud, though. Not to your friends, because Sunghoon was popular, and they’d pry if they knew you were sleeping with him. Not to him, for obvious reasons. And mainly because you had pride. You were the one who said you wouldn’t get attached—the one who laughed at girls who caught feelings for a fling.

But knowing better didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in.

His ex was his senior, a fine arts major. Pretty. Smart. Talented. One of those girls who just had it. The kind people didn’t get over easily. You told yourself it didn’t matter. If he wanted her back, that was his problem, not yours. It wasn’t like you and Sunghoon were anything.

And so the days with him continued to be easy and light.

You spent more time together, and the more you did, the more you noticed his quirks—his own brand of annoying charm. Like how he always picked up your keys instead of his whenever he left your apartment, or how he liked to roll his sleeves and ruffle his hair absentmindedly.

One evening, lying side by side on your bed, you scrolled through your texts, absentmindedly opening your chat with him. A dozen images filled the screen, almost all of them mirror selfies. Some in elevators, some in his room, one even in a convenience store.

“You like yourself a little too much, don’t you?” you mused, tilting your phone so he could see.

Sunghoon barely glanced at it. “What?”

“These,” you said, scrolling through. “Almost every picture you send me is just you.”

He smirked, resting his head on his arm. “What, you don’t like them?”

You huffed. “You’re hot and you know it, is that it?”

He let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto his side to face you. The glint in his eyes was naughty and suggestive. His next words, even more so: “Would you rather I send you something else?”

He was looking at you like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“Maybe,” you said, feigning deep thought. “Like a cat picture. Or, I don’t know, an interesting rock.”

Sunghoon snorted. “An interesting rock?”

“I like rocks.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re a narcissist.”

He only grinned, as if he didn’t mind the label. You shook your head, rolling onto your stomach, but your lips twitched when your phone vibrated a second later.

A picture. Of a rock.

You bit back a smile, and Sunghoon, watching you, caught it anyway.

“What?” he asked, amused.

“Nothing,” you said, tossing your phone aside.

You had never once felt insecure about what you had with Sunghoon, but after what you heard from your friends, you started to notice the little things. It almost seemed like outside the four walls of your apartments, you were nothing to each other.

You used to think he was just a lazy texter. His replies were always short, sometimes delayed, sometimes just emojis. But knowing what you knew now, you wondered if he just wasn’t interested enough.

The thought crept under your skin, making you overthink the things you once brushed off.

Before, when you texted him to come over and he said he couldn’t, you didn’t think much of it. But now? Now, you wondered if he was with her when he wasn’t with you. If he looked at his phone, saw your message, and made a choice.

Yet, you kept crawling back for more.

You were an intelligent woman. You knew this was foolish. You knew how it made you look. But it was fine, because no one else knew how you felt—not your friends, not even Sunghoon himself. It was fine because you were foolish only in your own eyes. There was no need for anyone else to know.

Despite the foolishness of it all, you were happy. You were content enough to be able to spend time with him, to be touched and worshipped by him, to know you had the power to tease out a part of him that not everyone had the privilege to see.

“Sunghoon,” you sighed, fingers pressed against your temple as you looked out of the car window. “We’ve been circling this block for ten minutes.”

You had tagged along with Sunghoon on a quick trip to pick up some pieces for his department’s upcoming art exhibit. It was unplanned. You were outside the campus after class when he spotted you and asked if you wanted to join him. Since you didn’t have anything planned for the day (and because you could never say no to a chance to hang out with him), you got into his car and let him drive without even asking where you were going.

But Sunghoon, as it turned out, had a terrible sense of direction.

“I swear it was supposed to be around here,” he muttered, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping aimlessly at his phone.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

He shot you a glance, sheepish. “Well, I meant it twenty minutes ago.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs. The map app on his dashboard kept recalculating, rerouting him to roads that either didn’t exist or led straight to nowhere. And when he finally admitted defeat, pulling over to rethink his next move, you both stepped out and realized something.

The ocean was right there.

Waves lapped lazily at the shore, the sky was clear, and the sun was warm but not overbearing—the kind of day that practically begged to be wasted at the beach.

“…Screw the errand?” you offered.

Sunghoon stared at the water for a moment before shrugging. “Screw the errand.”

And just like that, the detour became the destination.

The day unfolded spontaneously. You bought overpriced street food from a vendor by the shore, eating as you walked, laughing when Sunghoon scrunched his nose at the spicy kick of the sauce. He had an annoyingly specific taste in food and the smell, but he still let you shove a piece of yours into his mouth.

You found a little souvenir stand and tried on ridiculous sunglasses, taking pictures of each other in frames shaped like hearts and palm trees. Sunghoon snapped candid shots of you when you weren’t looking, and though you pretended to be annoyed, you never asked him to stop.

At some point, the tide crept in, and you played a round of rock, paper, scissors and dared the loser to get into the water. You weren’t even surprised when you lost. You sucked at this game.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you grumbled, kicking your sandals off. “By myself, no less.”

“Hey, it’s a game. We both agreed to this,” he retorted, stepping back. “And I can’t go in there. I’m wearing jeans.”

“And I’m wearing a skirt,” you countered, already wading in, your hem darkening as the waves reached you.

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, probably wondering if you were actually sulking over a punishment you’d happily agreed to before you lost the game. Of course, you weren’t, but it was fun to tease him and see what he’d do.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said after the scowl never left your face. In a moment of impulsive surrender, he walked straight in after you, the water soaking up his pants. You’re actually unbelievable,” he added, shaking his head as the chill hit him.

You grinned triumphantly, making him brush his hair back in playful exasperation. Then, shaking his head in defeat, he said, “I knew it. It was a farce. You knew I was gonna give in!”

“You fell for it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t blame me,” you added, flicking water at him.

Sunghoon blinked at you, unimpressed, before flicking some back with just the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, come on,” you taunted. “Is that the best you can do?”

His eyes narrowed slightly—just enough of a warning before he sent a full splash your way, drenching your arms. You gasped, stumbling back with a laugh.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you shot back, scooping up water with both hands and throwing it right at his chest.

He retaliated, sending another wave toward you, and suddenly it was war. One splash turned into another, then another, until you were both breathless, clothes sticking to your skin, hair a mess.

Sunghoon pushed his dripping bangs back with a huff. “This is your fault,” he said, smiling his usual warm and blinding smile—the smile that made his eyes crinkle, the smile that revealed dimples carving deep into his cheeks, the smile that could make anyone think Sunghoon had never forced a grin in his life.

He was beautiful, and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper, with no way out. You were falling so deep that it made your heart ache a little—the way you liked him, the way you wanted him to be yours, the way you wished today could last forever.

As the sky started to turn amber, you collapsed onto the sand, watching the sun lower itself into the horizon.

The waves rolled in, steady and endless, curling at the shore. The air smelled of salt, and the golden glow of the sunset painted the world majestically. You sat side by side, talking and laughing about random things, content to share the warmth of a single jacket.

Then, somewhere between the soothing sound of the waves and the silly jokes, the conversation drifted deeper.

You talked about things you never had before—about college, about dreams and ambitions, about the way people always say you’ll just know when something is right.

“How do you know for sure that that’s what you wanted to pursue?” he asked while you were tracing idle patterns in the sand. “What if you think you know, but when you get to the end of it, you realize it was the wrong choice?”

You looked out into the ocean, tilting your head slightly, considering. “I didn’t really know it was the right choice. I don’t think anyone ever really knows,” you admitted. “Not in the moment, at least. Maybe you just choose something, and later, that choice becomes the right one.”

You turned to look at him only to find out he already had his eyes on you. The admiration in his gaze was subtle, but it was there. Seeing that made your heart trip over itself, it made you forget, for just a second, that this wasn’t real.

And when he leaned in, when his eyes flickered to your lips and your breath caught, you stopped thinking. You knew what was coming. You knew he was about to kiss you, but somehow, for some reason, this time felt different. Like this kiss was gonna determine a major point in your relationship.

But before anything could happen, Sunghoon’s phone rang, jolting you both out of the trance. You both looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat like you’d caught yourself doing something you shouldn’t. Which was ridiculous because you’d done nothing but kiss him in the past few months.

Sunghoon cleared his throat as he picked up his phone on the sand then answered the call with a quiet, “Yeah?”

It was the committee for the exhibit and you watched him talk on the phone for the next few minutes, explaining what had happened and why he couldn’t finish the errand. By the time he hung up, the sky had darkened completely, and the air had turned crisp.

“It’s late,” he said, brushing sand off his hands. “You okay with crashing at my place?”

You blinked. “Your place?”

“Our old family house. It’s not far from here.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged. “Sure.”

The car ride was quiet, thick with the tension that had been ignited by the near-kiss at the beach. Neither of you spoke, but your gazes met every now and then—quick glances, fleeting and heated, before darting away like you hadn’t been caught.

Sunghoon was the first to break. His hand drifted from the wheel, finding your thigh in the dim glow of the dashboard, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. He squeezed, testing, and when you didn’t stop him, he grew bolder, pushing the hem of your dress up just enough to feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers traced your skin with slow, deliberate strokes, inching higher into your inner thighs and lightly brushing your sex.

The heat of his touch burned through you. While you sat there feeling hotter as your heartbeat hammered wildly in your chest, he remained composed and quiet, his face unreadable save for the occasional twitch of his jaw. He kept his eyes on the road, but the way the car gradually picked up speed as he stepped harder on the gas told you everything you needed to know.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until the car rolled to a stop in their driveway. He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of himself before stepping out and opening the door for you like nothing was out of the ordinary.

The lock to their house’s main entrance clicked, the door creaked open, and the second you stepped inside, all restraints snapped.

You barely had a moment to take in the house before his hands were on you, pulling you in, mouths crashing in a kiss that was desperate, needy, and greedy. He backed you into the foyer, hands mapping the curve of your waist, and the shape of your hips.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling, tugging, holding on for dear life as the heat of his touch woke something primal in you. He barely broke the kiss as he guided you further inside, not caring where you ended up as long as you got there together. You went past the foyer and the living room, but all you felt was the press of his body, the way he kissed you with the kind of hunger that made your head spin.

He pushed a door open, urging you inside but you hesitated, pulse hammering.

“Sunghoon,” you breathed between kisses, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Your parents—”

“They’re not home.” His voice was low, steady, but his eyes burned through yours.

You barely had a second to process before he kissed you again, silencing every last doubt as he pushed you inside the door he had just opened. When he clicked the lights on, the glow of a bathroom light flickered on, reflecting off the tiles and the mirror above the sink.

“Figured you’d hate the taste of the sea on my skin,” he murmured, grinning as his fingers grazed your hip. You were suddenly reminded of the saltwater clinging to your skin, and the sand on your legs, remnants of the day you’d spent together.

You swallowed, nodding. But the moment he lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, you knew washing up wasn’t gonna be the only thing happening in here.

You shamelessly ogled him—his bare skin, damp from sweat and seawater, and his lean build with well-defined muscles that you’d seen several times before but still found alluring. He caught you staring and smirked, stepping closer, close enough that his fingers found the buttons of your top.

“Did you know I’m good with buttons?” he asked softly, making you giggle.

“Yeah. I’ve seen your skills,” you said, watching him.

His fingers were deft, undoing your buttons slowly, teasingly. When he was done, he gently tugged it off, letting it fall on the floor. His hands didn’t leave you, though. They skimmed down your arms, and your waist, examining every curve like he had it memorized and wanted to see if anything was different.

The next thing you knew, warm water was cascading over your bodies, steam enveloping you in the small space. The spray soaked your hair, trailing down your spine, but you barely noticed because Sunghoon was there—his hands smoothing over your skin, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your jaw, his canines grazing your skin ever so slightly.

“We’re supposed to be washing up,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

“We are,” he murmured, his fingers sliding down your stomach, inching lower. “Just making sure we’re doing it thoroughly.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but it faded into a sigh when he pressed you back against the cool tiles, his mouth finding yours again. He didn’t stay for long, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, all the way to your chest where his kisses turned a little more intense. He sucked and squeezed, sending a pleasant ripple through your body that made you arch forward for more. The water drowned out the sound of your quiet moans, the warmth of his mouth making every touch feel more heady, more intoxicating.

When did he take off his pants? You didn’t even notice until he pressed his body against yours and you felt his manhood pulsating against your torso, hot and raging. He kissed your lips again, shoving his tongue inside as his breathing turned rougher.

“Turn around,” he rasped in your ear, and you obliged, finding yourself face-to-face with your own reflection.

You pressed your hands against the glass, your entire body tingling with anticipation as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your neck as you felt his tip prodding your pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Do you have any idea how you drive me crazy all the damn time?”

You were about to respond when he pushed himself inside you, making you let out a throaty gasp instead. Sunghoon stayed still, shushing you gently and kissing your shoulder.

“It’s alright. We’ve done this before,” he chimed and you could see him smirking in your reflection.

“You’re used to this, right?” he asked, moving delicately so you could properly adjust to his length and girth. “Right, baby?” he asked again, and the lilt in his voice made you close your eyes and nod.

“That’s right. You said you love it, didn’t you?”

You could only let out a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “Yes, Hoon. I love it,” you whispered back.

“Good. I know you do,” he chimed, gently bending you forward. “I know you’ll love this too,” he added before his hands settled on your waist and he started thrusting into you.

His pace was urgent, with enough force to make your knees weak each time he slammed into you. You didn’t even bother to stifle your moans anymore, letting them out completely, not caring if there were neighbors nearby who might hear you. You were lightheaded with lust, spiraling into the titillating euphoria that Sunghoon never once failed to deliver. Your entire being came alive and you were so caught up in it that you didn’t even notice your knees buckling underneath your weight.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened as he helped keep you up, pulling out to give you a quick break and to turn you face-to-face with him again. His grin was unmistakable, pleased to see your fucked-out expression. “So so beautiful,” he said, sweeping your hair out of your face.

He pressed you against the cool tiles, his lips crashing onto yours, urgency overtaking everything else. You gasped when his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you against him. The water poured over his shoulders, down your back, as he moved with reckless need, his breath ragged against your ear.

“More, Hoon. Please, more,” you pleaded, as if he wasn’t already ramming mercilessly into you making every nerve in your body dance in pleasure.

“You’re so horny for me,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers gripping your thighs as he lifted you against him. “Can’t even wait till we got to the bed, huh?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed into you, the heat of the shower only amplifying the sensation. “This was your idea,” you whispered, but it came out shaky, wrecked.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I know. But you want this too, don’t you?” he said, voice smooth as his lips traced down your throat. “You want me so bad. You’re begging me for more, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t answer—not in words, at least. But when you tightened your grip around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, he took it as confirmation.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours. “Come on, baby. Let me hear you.”

You whimpered when he hit a delicious spot, holding onto him tighter. “Hoon, you fuck so good.”

He grunted, spurred on by your admission. He was fast, desperate—like he couldn’t get enough, like he had to claim every inch of you right then and there. When he finally tipped over the edge, dragging you down with him, he held you through it, his lips pressing on your temple as your body trembled in his arms.

The moment was fleeting, but the desire didn’t leave just yet. You could still feel it in his touch even as he set you back on your feet. The moment you stepped out of the shower, Sunghoon grabbed a towel, barely bothering to dry you properly before he lifted you off your feet, carrying you out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and into what you only assumed was his bedroom.

This time, there was no rush.

He laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin, his touch softer now, more reverent. “Look at you,” he murmured, eyes tracing over every inch of you, dark with something more than just lust. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

Your breath came uneven as he leaned down, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, lower—each one dragging a gasp from your lips.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against your skin.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah?” He kissed the corner of your mouth, teasing. “Then take me,” he added, just before he filled you up again.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent, or desperate. It was slow, deep, and overwhelming in the most delightful way. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your face, whispering in between kisses.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” he murmured, moving languidly. “You feel so good. You’re taking me so well.”

Every whispered praise sent shivers down your spine, made you cling to him even tighter, and made the pleasure build until it was unbearable.

The night was young and it was not gonna end just yet. And so the hours blurred into moments of euphoric highs, fleeting clarity, and intense need to ravage and be ravaged. His name was the only thing you could say—over and over—until you were both left breathless, tangled together in the sheets, completely undone.

In the morning, you probably wouldn’t remember every detail of tonight, but you’d remember this—remember the way his hands felt on your skin, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. In the dim glow of Sunghoon’s bedroom, your fingers tangled in his damp hair, lips swollen from too many kisses, you let yourself forget. Forget the rules. Forget that this was never supposed to feel like more. Just for tonight, he was yours, and you were his.

The morning light streamed in through the sheer curtains, hurting your eyes a little. You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented, until the scent of Sunghoon’s shampoo on your skin and the warmth of the bed beneath you reminded you where you were.

You turned over to find him already awake, his arm tucked behind his head as he looked at you with a lazy smile. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

His fingers skimmed down your arm. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

A slow blink. Then, a scoff. “Liar.”

“It’s true.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as his gaze flickered down to your lips. “You drool a little, though.”

You smacked his arm. “I do not.”

His laughter was low and teasing, as he caught your wrist then tugged you closer. His body was warm against yours, and his breath was even warmer as he kissed the curve of your neck.

“We should get up,” you said, but neither of you moved.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his soft kisses trailing down to your shoulder. “In a bit,” he added before reaching to cup your cheek and kiss your lips.

One thing led to another and suddenly, you were underneath him again, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t bear to be apart.

The morning air was cool, but his hands were warm as they skimmed down your waist, his touch slow, and smooth.

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your lips, smiling when you shivered under him.

“So are you,” you whispered back, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “Guess we’re even, then.”

His hands slid over your bare skin, his touch reverent. He kissed you deeply, guiding you through the lazy tangle of limbs and soft gasps, dragging it out like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you finally got out of bed, Sunghoon had already dug through his closet, tossing you an old hoodie and some sweatpants. You pulled them on and followed him down the quiet hallway.

The house felt still—too still. Only then did you notice the dust gathering on the bookshelves, the faint scent of time in the air.

“This place has been empty for a while now,” Sunghoon said casually from behind you when he noticed you looking around. “My family moved a few months ago to take care of my grandparents.”

Your brows lifted. “So no one lives here?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I come by sometimes. I technically still live here, I'm just not here often.”

That made sense. There was something about the house—it felt untouched, frozen in time, like stepping into a memory. You walked further into the hall, your fingers grazing along the walls and stopping at the framed photographs hanging there.

You studied them, tilting your head. Sunghoon as a kid, bright-eyed and grinning, a missing tooth on full display. A younger version of him on a skating rink, mid-game, frozen in motion. Another picture—him and his family, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, and several of him in a skating rink, different poses, taken in the middle of a routine.

“You skate?”

Sunghoon smiled, standing beside you and looking up at the photos. “Used to. I was in the national team for a while.”

“Why did you stop?” you asked glancing up at him and seeing the reminiscent look on his face.

He simply shrugged. “I had to be realistic. I enjoyed the sport but I couldn’t see myself doing it for a long time.”

You bit back a smile. “You were kind of adorable.”

Sunghoon scoffed, stepping up behind you. “I still am.”

“Debatable.”

He tugged at your hoodie—his hoodie—pulling the hood over your head before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”

The drive back to the city was uneventful, the radio playing softly in the background. Sunghoon’s hand rested on the wheel, his other lazily draped over your thigh, tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of his sweatpants that you were still wearing. You were talking, laughing, stealing quick glances at him between songs on the stereo.

At some point, he cleared his throat. “So… what are you doing later?”

“I have a group project.” You groaned, leaning back against the seat. “I’m meeting up with my classmates later.”

“Right. Group project.” He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Sounds boring.”

“It is,” you huffed. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.” His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but you caught the way his grip on the wheel tightened just slightly. A second passed before he spoke again, this time even more nonchalant. “What about tomorrow?”

You tilted your head. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure. Just classes, I think.” You turned to him, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Do you wanna grab lunch with me tomorrow?”

You stared at him for a moment, then grinned teasingly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Park Sunghoon?”

His ears turned the faintest shade of pink, but he scoffed like the idea was ridiculous. “I’m just saying we should get lunch.”

“Mmm.” You pretended to think. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date.”

You scoffed in playful exasperation. “Dude, I was naked on top of you last night and a couple of other nights before. Surely we’re way past shy invitations for lunch dates?”

“I’m asking you to eat.” He paused, then added with a tilt of his head, “But if you wanna call it a date, that’s fine too. Labels are overrated.”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hm. I guess I’ll allow it.”

Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Good. It’s settled then,” he said, stopping at a red light.

He leaned over to kiss you, catching you off guard but only for a moment. You kissed him back, albeit a little confused. When he pulled away, he was wearing a proud smirk on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he asked, shifting the gear as the light turned green again. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to his lips.

One hour later, you reached your apartment complex, but had to you stay a few more minutes in his car because he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, kissing and touching right there in the parking lot. You had to forcefully push him away and remind him that you had classes and important stuff to attend to. Even then, he was reluctant to let you go.

After a dramatic goodbye that had him pouting as he drove away, you climbed up the building with a sickening grin on your face. You unlocked your door, stepping inside with a lightness in your chest, breathing in the familiar smell of your home.

The past few days had been a rollercoaster for you, with all the guessing and expectations and disappointments. But now, you were feeling much lighter, much happier. The good days with Sunghoon were all you could think of, playing back in flashes—the sound of his laugh in your space, the weight of his arm over your waist in the morning, the smell of his skin at night, the way he always left the bathroom mirror fogged up because he took ridiculously hot showers.

Tossing your bag onto the couch, you leaned against the door for a moment, smiling to yourself. Sunghoon was nice, but he always drew an invisible line. Not this time. You could tell by the way he held you this morning, the way he was reluctant to part from you, and how he’d asked to hang out with you for lunch—outside, in public. It felt like, for once, you both wanted the same thing. No second-guessing, no mixed signals—you were finally moving the same direction.

Your gaze drifted to the hoodie he’d left draped over the chair, his specs on your nightstand, and the half-empty tumbler beside it—subtle proofs that he’d started leaving pieces of himself behind. You wondered if he even realized it.

And more than that, you wondered where this would go next.

The next morning, you woke up too early. Way too early.

You groaned into your pillow, rolling onto your back as you stared at the ceiling. It was ridiculous. You’d seen Sunghoon plenty of times before—hung out, spent nights together, and shared more than just passing glances. But the idea of today, of a proper lunch date, had you wide awake before the sun was even fully up. Maybe it was because, for once, you weren’t just meeting up in the comfort of your apartment or his. It would be something different. Something real.

You giggled at the thought, covering your face with your blanket and then flailing your arms and legs.

Admitting that to yourself felt embarrassing, so you dragged yourself out of bed and decided to be productive. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make the most of it.

A jog around the neighborhood. A quick stop at the store. And before you knew it, you were back in your apartment, unpacking groceries and deciding, on a whim, to actually cook breakfast. When was the last time you did that? You couldn’t even remember.

By the time you arrived on campus, you were still riding the high of a morning well-spent. Your good mood didn’t go unnoticed—your friends picked up on it immediately, teasing you about the extra bounce in your step. You brushed them off with the excuse of getting enough sleep, but they weren’t wrong. Everything just felt lighter today.

Even classes didn’t seem so unbearable. You participated. You took notes. You weren’t counting down the minutes to leave—well, not exactly. But the closer lunchtime got, the more restless you became, checking your phone every so often even though you knew you were the only one keeping track of time this obsessively.

Then, just as you were leaving your last morning class, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: Hey pretty. Something came up. I can’t do lunch today. I’m sorry. Sunghoon: I’ll make it up to you later tonight, okay?

Your steps slowed, but you kept moving, staring at the text longer than necessary.

Bummed. That was the best way to describe it. You weren’t mad—plans get canceled all the time, and at least he let you know ahead of time—but disappointment still settled in the pit of your stomach. You took a breath, shook it off, and responded with a simple, It’s fine. See you later.

Lunch with your friends helped a little. You laughed, caught up on random gossip, and even let them drag you to a café afterward. You weren’t dwelling on it. Really, you weren’t.

Until you stepped out of the café and saw him. Sunghoon, standing outside the campus gates. And he wasn’t alone.

Jenna was with him.

You stopped in your tracks, heart lurching in a way you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t just that he was there, but the way he was standing close to her, the way she was talking, nudging his arm like she had every right to be in his space.

Sunghoon must have felt someone staring at him because he glanced your way and saw you. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he greeted you casually, like nothing was out of the ordinary. But you didn’t even know how to react. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. You walked past him, barely sparing a glance, pretending as if you weren’t close. As if he was just someone you barely knew.

Your friends who saw that were confused, following behind you after quick greetings to both Sunghoon and Jenna.

Tammy caught up to you, nudged your arm, and asked, “Where are you running off to after ignoring Sunghoon like that?”

“I wasn’t ignoring anyone,” you muttered.

“You totally were,” Lily chimed in, linking arms with you as she leaned to speak in a quieter voice. “That’s so fishy. What’s going on?”

You didn’t respond, your mind too muddled to even try and come up with a good answer. As you rounded the corner, your phone buzzed a second later.

Sunghoon: Hey. What was that?

You ignored it, as well as the other messages that followed.

The rest of the afternoon slipped through your fingers in a haze of self-pity. You curled up on the couch, aimlessly flipping through movies, but nothing got your attention. The voices blurred together, scenes passed without meaning. You weren’t devastated. You weren’t heartbroken. You were just... mad. Annoyed that after everything, after how good things had been, this was what it came down to. But getting worked up wouldn’t do anything. So, you forced yourself to let it go.

Or at least, you tried. It was impossible when he kept creeping into your thoughts—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you just yesterday—like he wanted this as much as you did.

You didn’t even realize you had dozed off until the sound of your phone ringing jolted you awake.

You blinked against the glow of the screen. Sunghoon.

For a moment, you stared at his name, your heartbeat loud in the quiet of your apartment. You could ignore it. You could let it ring out and pretend you were still asleep. You could put an end to this charade, to tell him you were done and sick of it. But you didn’t.

You answered. His voice was gentle, cautious. “Can I come over?”

You should say no. You should end this here and now. Enough is enough. But… “Yeah. Of course,” you said, trying your best to sound normal.

Half an hour later, he was in your apartment, hands on you, lips on yours, familiar and desperate. And, as always, you let him in—physically, emotionally, despite knowing better. You let yourself believe that maybe, for just a little longer, this could be enough.

Afterward, you slipped out of bed, padding into the bathroom to wash up. By the time you returned, the room was dark, the only source of light was coming from Sunghoon’s phone on the nightstand. He was already asleep, his breathing even, his body sprawled across your sheets like he belonged there.

You reached for the blanket to pull it over him when his phone buzzed, the screen glowing against the dim light. Your gaze flickered to it, drawn by instinct.

Jenna calling...

Your chest tightened at the name. For a moment, you just stood there, watching the name flash across the screen before it faded into darkness. You could answer it. You could see what she wanted, hear her voice, and confirm everything you had been trying so hard to ignore.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into bed, curling up beside Sunghoon, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew what you had to do. Knew that when he woke up, this had to end for good.

But not yet.

For now, while he was still yours—warm, close, familiar—you let yourself have this one last moment. You closed your eyes and pretended everything was okay, even though you knew exactly what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. The space beside you was cold.

It was over.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. You had spent the night convincing yourself that you were ready for this, ready to end things, but the second you woke up to find him gone, the ache in your chest became unbearable.

Tears welled up before you could stop them. You curled into yourself, pressing your face against the pillow, sobbing into the fabric as if that could somehow muffle the sound. This wasn’t supposed to hurt. You weren’t supposed to grieve something that was never really yours. But you did.

You let yourself fall apart, mourning what could have been, whispering prayers into the silence that it didn’t have to end this way.

And then the door creaked open. You gasped, jolting up, eyes red and blurry as Sunghoon stepped into the room, holding your tumbler in his hand.

His brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes widening in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to your side, setting the tumbler down before cupping your face and wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Hey—why are you crying?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you sobbed against him. He didn’t ask any more questions. He just held you, rubbing your back, shushing you gently even though he didn’t understand what had you so upset.

After a long moment, you finally managed to choke out, “I thought you were gone.”

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, blinking at you in confusion. Then, to your utter annoyance, he started laughing.

“What do you mean, gone?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I literally just went to shower and get you some water.”

You smacked his arm, your face burning. “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, though he was definitely still laughing.

Something about his amusement made you snap. Maybe it was the pent-up emotions, or maybe it was the fact that you had nothing left to lose—but suddenly, everything came spilling out.

You confessed it all.

How you weren’t supposed to catch feelings, but you did. How you tried to push them down, to ignore them, but they never really went away. How you had spent so long pretending to be fine with this casual arrangement, knowing deep down that you weren’t. How much it crushed you to think that he was trying to win Jenna back, how much it hurt when he canceled on you, and how stupid you felt for letting yourself get so attached.

Sunghoon stared at you, utterly dumbfounded.

You sniffled, swallowing back the last of your tears. “Well? Say something.”

And then, to your horror, he started laughing again.

Your stomach twisted. “Are you kidding me right now?”

But before you could shove him away, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Hard.

Your breath hitched, but you melted into it, gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment all along. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice quieter now. “I like you,” he admitted. “A lot.”

You opened your mouth, but he kept going. “You’re fun, you don’t take my shit, and you get me in a way that most people don’t. I’m always looking forward to seeing you. To hearing whatever sarcastic thing you were gonna say next. To just… being with you.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t with Jenna because of what you think.” His hands slid down to hold yours, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “There was an accident with the exhibit setup, and I had to be there. She just happened to walk out with me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And the part where you’re trying to get back with her?”

Sunghoon made a face. “Where did you even hear that?”

You hesitated before mumbling, “A mutual friend.”

He huffed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t know!” You did, but you weren’t about to admit that you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting too much from him—like you were demanding something that was never part of your deal.

Sunghoon sighed, squeezing your hands. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I only have eyes for you.” His lips quirked. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t realize how much I liked you at first, but ever since we started this, I haven’t thought about anyone else.”

Your heart stuttered.

Then he smirked. “I thought we had an understanding. Did we really need a label for it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Right. Labels are overrated.”

Sunghoon kissed you deeply, and this time, you returned it with the same amount of sweet abandon. Then he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he murmured. “And right now, I’m wondering if you’d wanna be mine too.”

You let out a sharp breath, your chest tightening at his words. For a second, you just stared at him—his dark eyes searching yours, his expression completely open, completely vulnerable.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head with an exasperated laugh.

“For fuck's sake, Sunghoon.” You squeezed his hands, tugging him just a little closer. “I’m already yours.”

His lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else, stealing the last of your breath, and this time, you didn’t hold anything back.

[fin]

Tags

rikidaze.tbr

2K notes View Post

rikidaze

6 months ago

엔하이픈 ; ᝰꜜ ᩠˚ 𖤐 luna’s enhypen fic recs !

❤︎ fluff | ❦ angst | ❣︎ mature | ♫ ongoing | ☘︎︎ complete

back to masterlist / skz recs / txt recs

a/n: i’ll be updating this often! :) also my reblog fic rec acc is @floraflvms

individual members

⊹₊ 이희승 heeseung

smau

catch us dispatch / @jalnandanz / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎

what’s your number / @jalnandanz / ❤︎ ♫

wrong number! / @renjunvrse / ❤︎ ♫

you, me and the moon / @linoragi / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

cheating on you w/ sunghoon / @nekkodiaries / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

oneshots/timestamps

7:28pm / @/goldenhypen / ❤︎

sober / @yunkifoldr / ❦

driver’s license / @liliansun / ❦

cut glitch 🤓

⊹₊ 제이 jay

smau

deuce! / @/ddeonuism / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

love letters? / @tqmies / ❤︎ ♫

oh god! / @enloveclub / ❤︎ ♫

oneshots/timestamps

8:52pm / @/goldenhypen / ❤︎

7:23pm / @jaeyunverse / ❤︎ ❣︎

⊹₊ 제이크 jake

smau

maybe we could be together / @ddeonuism / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

simp for redacted / @sunootonin / ❤︎ ♫

yours truly / @simjyun / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

love? love! fighting / @theebaragi / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

anonymous / @wonjaems / ❤︎ ♫

prove it! / @seungstarss / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

boomerang / @amakumos /❤︎ ❦ ♫

lucid dream / @yyunari / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

love 020 / @jalnandanz / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

oneshots/timestamps

I hope ur okay / @/liliansun / ❦

please stop dont stop / @highkeygolden / ❤︎ ❦

⊹₊ 성훈 sunghoon

smau

trees in fall / @lunarlxve / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

jealousy jealousy / @nikihoon / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

twitch rivals / @/soobnny / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

celebrity crush / @cersworld / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

cheating on you w/ heeseung / @/nekkodiaries / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

once upon a dream / @/heessseungi / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

stereotype / @ninihoons / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

wrong timing / @pcketwon / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

wrong file / @heekissung / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

eyes for you / @tuvaidk / ❤︎ ♫

rumours / @jungwoniics / ❤︎ ♫

sorry im an anti-romantic / @sankyeom / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

behind the scenes / @/liliansun / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

unscathed / @jaysstarz / ❤︎ ♫

you maniac! / @i-kai / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

fever / @heelvsme / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

deliver to your heart / @blessed-sky / ❤︎ ♫

someday / @h4chi / ❤︎ ♫

oneshots/timestamps

pas de deux / @heessseungi / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

forget me not / @/amakumos / ❤︎ ❦

⊹₊ 선우 sunoo

smau

let my love run wild / @/ddeonuism / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

for me / @/linoragi / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

guess who? / @soobnny / ❤︎ ♫

operation: code cupid / @lovesicknana / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

scammed / @amakumos / ❤︎ ♫

oneshots/timestamps

tba.

⊹₊ 정원 jungwon

smau

earfquake / @i-kai / ❤︎ ♫

class president / @wonwoosh / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

the language of flowers / @/soobnny / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

catnapper / @meijiamikas / ❤︎ ❦ ☘︎︎

formula of love / @/amakumos / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

all clear! / @/amakumos / ❤︎ ♫

boyfriend application / @maiwon / ❤︎ ♫

chipped glass / @cersworld / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

loving you / @/oddeonu / ❤︎ ♫

a project and a guitar / @giyyuzz / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

mc enemiez / @246sn / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

rumour has it / @enhafae / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

if we’re both single / @winwonies / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

snow with you / @maiwon / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

oneshots/timestamps

see you in jeju island / @cloudninescenes / ❤︎ ❦

blue birthday / @amakumos / ❤︎ ❦

⊹₊ 니키 ni-ki

smau

shoot! / @/amakumos / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

once again / @/nikihoon / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

project binki / @beom1e / ❤︎ ☘︎︎

breaking me in two / @emeraldenha / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

complimentary colours / @iheartbeomz / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

game over / @giyyuzz / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

oneshot/timestamps

lucky charms / @/amakumos / ❤︎

eleven / @/246sn / ❤︎

amortenia / @/nikihoon / ❤︎

⊹₊ hyung line

smaus

no nut november / @jayflrt / ❤︎ ❣︎ ♫

jungwon’s noona / @oddeonu / ❤︎ ❦ ♫

⊹₊ maknae line

tba.

⊹₊ ot7 fics

fate / @95trivia / ❤︎ ♫

Tags

rikidaze.tbr enhypen: ot7

2K notes View Post

rikidaze

2 months ago

CHERRY TREES

arranged husband!Jungwon x trophy wife!reader - confronting cold arranged husband one your first anniversary.

ENHA HARD HOURS 18+ MDNI, Angst, fluff, a second chance, the smut is crazy im ngl to u but the angst is worse, he actually goes insane like insane he loses it.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed five times, its deep resonance echoing through the marble corridors of your estate. Without opening your eyes, you knew Jungwon was already awake. The mattress dipped slightly as he carefully extracted himself from beneath the Egyptian cotton covers, his movements deliberately gentle to avoid disturbing you. You kept your breathing steady, maintaining the pretense of sleep as you had so many mornings before.

Through barely-parted lids, you watched his silhouette move through the predawn darkness. Jungwon's routine never varied—not on weekends, holidays, or even the morning after your anniversary celebration when he'd had perhaps one glass of Château Margaux too many. Five a.m. meant feet on the floor, regardless of circumstance.

He disappeared into the expansive en-suite bathroom, closing the door with practiced quietness before the shower began to run. You rolled over to face the floor-to-ceiling windows, abandoning the charade of sleep. Outside, the manicured gardens remained dark and still, mirroring the atmosphere that permeated your mansion despite its immaculate decoration and luxurious furnishings.

One year of marriage. Three hundred and sixty-five mornings of this same choreographed dance.

By the time Jungwon emerged from the bathroom, you had straightened your side of the bed and donned your silk robe. He nodded in acknowledgment, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning," he said, voice pleasant but neutral. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"No, I was already awake," you lied, the response automatic after months of repetition. "Will you be joining me for breakfast on the terrace today?"

He checked his watch—the elegant Patek Philippe you'd given him on your six-month anniversary. "I have an early meeting. I'll grab something at the office."

You nodded, expecting this answer. Despite your chef preparing an elaborate breakfast spread every morning, Jungwon rarely sat down to eat it. You'd long since stopped taking it personally, instead viewing it as simply another aspect of your peculiar marriage.

"Madame," came a soft voice from the doorway. Your personal maid stood waiting respectfully. "The blue gown has been pressed for tonight's charity auction, and Mrs. Yang called to confirm your appointment at the salon at two."

"Thank you. Please tell the chef I'll be down shortly."

Jungwon's expression softened momentarily with what might have been gratitude. "The blue gown is a good choice. It matches the sapphires."

The brief warmth in his eyes vanished so quickly you questioned whether you'd imagined it. He dressed efficiently, selecting the navy suit you'd suggested earlier in the week. You busied yourself reviewing the day's schedule on your tablet, giving him space while maintaining the illusion of comfortable domesticity.

"I'll send the car for you at six," he said, adjusting his tie in the mirror. Perfect Windsor knot, as always. "The auction starts at seven, but your mother-in-law suggested we arrive early to greet the host committee."

"I'll be ready," you assured him. "The blue complements the sapphires your family gifted me last Christmas—perfect for the society photographers."

He nodded approvingly. "Perfect. The Yangs must maintain appearances."

The phrase hung in the air between you, a reminder of what truly bound you together. Not love or passion or even friendship, but appearances. The Yang family name and reputation, upheld through generations and now entrusted to Jungwon—and by extension, to you.

Before leaving, he stopped at the bedroom door. "The new arrangement in the grand foyer—the one with the peonies and orchids. My mother asked for the name of your florist."

"I'd be happy to share their contact information," you replied, surprised that he'd noticed the flowers at all.

He hesitated, as if considering saying something more, then simply nodded and left. Moments later, you heard the soft purr of his car starting in the circular driveway below.

The suite fell silent, save for the continuing measured tick of the antique clock.

By eleven, you had completed your morning inspection of the household: reviewing the dinner menu with the chef, approving the landscaping plans for the east garden, and confirming that the linens for Friday's dinner party had been properly pressed. The mansion operated with clockwork precision under your supervision, a showcase of domestic perfection that visitors frequently praised.

Your phone chimed with a text message from Mrs. Yang—your mother-in-law.

The charity auction tonight is a perfect opportunity to connect with the Singhs. Their daughter returned from Oxford and has taken over their foundation. Jungwon could use their support for the new community project.

You typed a gracious reply, assuring her you would make the introduction. This was part of your unspoken role: social facilitator, network cultivator, the charming counterbalance to Jungwon's more reserved demeanor in public. Mrs. Yang had explicitly voiced her approval of your social graces during the marriage negotiations, though she'd phrased it more delicately at the time.

In the solarium, you sipped tea and reviewed correspondence on your tablet. The household staff moved efficiently around the estate, their presence indicated only by the occasional distant voice or the soft closing of a door. This cocoon of luxury and service had become your domain—a gilded cage, perhaps, but one you managed with impeccable skill.

The charity auction venue sparkled with crystal chandeliers and the gleam of expensive jewelry. You stood beside Jungwon, your hand resting lightly in the crook of his arm as he conversed with an important international investor. Your blue gown complemented the subtle blue in Jungwon's tie, a coordinated detail that Mrs. Yang had encouraged early in your marriage.

"And what do you think of the market's new direction?" the investor asked, unexpectedly turning to include you in the conversation.

Without missing a beat, you offered a thoughtful response based on fragments you'd gathered from Jungwon's rare comments about business. Your husband's arm tensed slightly beneath your hand—in surprise or approval, you couldn't tell.

"You've got yourself a perceptive wife, Yang," the man laughed, clearly impressed. "Better be careful or I'll recruit her for my advisory board."

Jungwon smiled, a genuine expression that transformed his handsome face. "I'm very fortunate," he agreed, turning to look at you with apparent pride.

For a moment—just a moment—the warmth in his eyes seemed real. Then a passing waiter offered champagne, and the connection broke as he reached for two glasses.

The evening continued in this manner: introductions, small talk, strategic conversations with selected guests, and the careful maintenance of the image you projected as a couple. Jungwon's hand occasionally rested at the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with gentle pressure. To anyone watching, the gesture appeared intimate and caring.

"Your work with the children's literacy foundation has been inspirational," commented Ms. Singh as you were introduced. "My father is quite impressed."

You played your part flawlessly. Laughed at the right moments. Showed appropriate interest in business discussions. Made mental notes of important names and connections to record later in your planner. You orchestrated the introduction to the Singh family that appeared completely spontaneous, fulfilling your mother-in-law's request with such subtlety that even Jungwon seemed unaware of the manipulation.

During a lull in the event, you excused yourself to visit the ladies' room. Standing before the mirror, you studied your reflection: perfectly applied makeup, not a hair out of place, the picture of a successful young wife. Other women came and went, exchanging pleasantries, complimenting your gown or asking about upcoming social events.

"You and Jungwon always look so happy together," sighed a fellow socialite as she applied fresh lipstick. "My husband can barely remember which events are on our calendar, let alone coordinate his tie with my outfit."

You smiled politely. "Jungwon is very attentive to details."

When you returned to the main hall, you spotted your husband across the room, engaged in conversation with the Singh patriarch as you had arranged. His posture was relaxed, confident, his expression animated as he discussed something that clearly interested him. You rarely saw that expression at home.

As if sensing your gaze, he looked up and met your eyes across the crowded room. For a brief moment, something unreadable flickered across his face. He excused himself from the conversation and made his way to your side.

"Is everything alright?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," you assured him. "Mr. Singh seems interested in your project."

He nodded. "Yes, thank you for the introduction. He mentioned you'd spoken highly of the initiative."

"That's what wives do, isn't it?" you replied, the words emerging more wistfully than you'd intended.

Jungwon studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly. "Are you tired? We can leave if you'd like."

"No," you said quickly. "Your mother would be disappointed if we left before the final auction lot."

The mention of his mother was enough to settle the matter. Jungwon nodded and offered his arm again, leading you back into the social whirl. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of smiles and small talk, your practiced responses on autopilot while your mind drifted elsewhere.

The mansion was quiet when you returned just after midnight, though a few lights remained on for your arrival. The night butler opened the door as the car pulled up.

"Welcome home, Madame, Sir," he greeted with a respectful bow. "May I bring anything before you retire?"

"No thank you," Jungwon replied, loosening his tie. "That will be all for tonight."

As the butler disappeared, Jungwon turned to you in the grand foyer, its marble floors gleaming under the soft chandelier light. "Successful evening," he commented, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "The Singhs have invited us to their summer compound next month."

"That's wonderful," you replied, slipping off your heels with a small sigh of relief. "Your mother will be pleased."

He set down his keys and looked at you directly, something he rarely did at home. "You don't need to keep mentioning my mother. I'm capable of recognizing business opportunities on my own."

The unexpected sharpness in his tone surprised you. "I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, disheveling it slightly. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

The apology hung awkwardly between you. Jungwon rarely expressed irritation, maintaining the same polite distance whether discussing dinner plans or household accounts.

"It's late," you said finally. "We're both tired."

He nodded, the momentary crack in his composure already repaired. "I have some work to finish. Don't wait up."

You watched him retreat to his home office, the door closing firmly behind him. In the kitchen, you found the chef had left a covered plate of small desserts and a pot of tea keeping warm. The thoughtful gesture—understanding your tendency to skip dinner at formal events—brought an unexpected lump to your throat.

The mansion was beautiful—spacious, elegantly decorated, with every luxury and convenience. The marriage looked perfect from the outside: handsome, successful husband; accomplished, supportive wife; respected families united through a beneficial alliance. You wanted for nothing material.

And yet.

Upstairs, your nightwear had already been laid out and the bed turned down. In the adjoining bathroom, you methodically removed your jewelry and makeup, the familiar routine requiring no thought. Your reflection stared back, younger without the carefully applied cosmetics but somehow sadder too.

When you finally slipped between the cool sheets, Jungwon's side of the bed remained empty. You knew from experience that he might not come upstairs for hours. Sometimes you woke briefly in the night to feel the mattress dip as he joined you, maintaining a careful distance even in sleep.

As exhaustion pulled you toward unconsciousness, you wondered—not for the first time—what thoughts occupied your husband's mind during his late-night work sessions. Whether he ever questioned the arrangement that had brought you together. Whether he ever wished for something more than this immaculate, empty performance you both maintained.

Outside, a gentle rain began to fall against the panoramic windows, drops catching the moonlight like silver tears against the darkness.

The first anniversary dinner had been your mother-in-law's idea.

"A small celebration," she'd said during your weekly tea. "Nothing extravagant, of course. Just family to commemorate the successful first year."

You'd nodded and smiled, playing your part. "I'll coordinate with the chef for a special menu."

A successful first year. The phrase echoed in your mind as you supervised the staff arranging peonies and orchids in the dining room—Jungwon's mother's favorites. The crystal gleamed under the chandelier light, the silver polished to mirror brightness, the napkins folded into perfect swans. Success measured in appearances, in business connections forged, in social obligations fulfilled.

Not in moments of genuine connection, in shared laughter, in the casual intimacy of a hand brushing hair from your face. Those metrics of success remained conspicuously absent from your marriage ledger.

"The wine selection has been brought up from the cellar, Madame," said the butler. "And the chef has prepared the appetizers exactly as you specified."

"Thank you," you replied, adjusting a place setting minutely. "Mr. Yang will be home by seven, and his parents will arrive at seven-thirty."

The butler nodded and withdrew, leaving you alone in the perfect dining room of your perfect mansion in your perfect marriage that was, somehow, entirely empty.

Jungwon arrived precisely at seven, as predictable as the sunrise. You heard the familiar sound of his car, followed by his measured footsteps in the foyer. When he appeared in the doorway of the dining room, he was already dressed in the suit you'd laid out—the charcoal gray Tom Ford that his mother once commented made him look distinguished.

"Everything looks lovely," he said, surveying the room with appreciative eyes. "You've outdone yourself."

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the compliment with practiced grace. "Your mother mentioned Mr. Kim might join them. I've set an extra place just in case."

Something flickered across Jungwon's face—annoyance, perhaps. "He wasn't mentioned to me."

"He's the family attorney. Perhaps there's business to discuss."

"On our anniversary dinner?" The edge in Jungwon's voice surprised you. "Some things should remain separate from business."

You studied your husband's face, wondering at this unusual display of emotion. "Would you prefer I call your mother and inquire?"

"No," he said, composure returning like a mask sliding back into place. "It doesn't matter."

But it did matter, and the tension in his shoulders told you so. This was new—this momentary crack in the facade. You wanted to press further, to understand what had triggered this response, but years of social conditioning held you back.

Instead, you said, "There's time for a drink before they arrive. Would you like something?"

He nodded, following you to the sitting room where the bar cart awaited. You poured him two fingers of the Macallan 25-year he preferred, your movements precise and practiced. When you handed him the crystal tumbler, your fingers brushed his—an accidental touch that shouldn't have felt significant but somehow did.

"One year," he said quietly, staring into the amber liquid.

"Yes," you agreed, pouring yourself a small measure of the same. "It's gone quickly."

The silence between you stretched, filled with all the words neither of you knew how to say. Jungwon seemed on the verge of speaking when the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of his parents.

The moment, whatever it might have been, evaporated.

Dinner progressed with the same choreographed precision as every family gathering. Mrs. Yang complimented the decor, inquired about your recent charity work, and dominated the conversation with updates on various family connections. Mr. Yang, stern and reserved like his son, contributed occasional comments about business or politics. And Mr. Kim, who had indeed accompanied them, observed it all with the calculated interest of someone evaluating an investment.

"The first year is always the most challenging," Mrs. Yang declared over the entrée, smiling at you and Jungwon with evident satisfaction. "And you two have managed it beautifully."

"Indeed," agreed Mr. Kim, raising his wine glass in a small toast. "The Yang family's standing has only strengthened. Your partnership has proven most advantageous."

Partnership. Not marriage. The distinction wasn't lost on you.

"And the foundation gala last month," Mrs. Yang continued. "Several board members commented on how impressive you both were. The Choi family was particularly taken with you, dear." She directed this last comment at you. "Mrs. Choi mentioned how fortunate Jungwon is to have found such an accomplished wife."

"I am fortunate," Jungwon agreed smoothly, the response automatic. He didn't look at you as he said it.

"Now, about the expansion into renewable energy," Mr. Yang began, turning to his son. "The board is meeting next week to discuss the proposal."

Business at the anniversary dinner, just as you'd predicted. You caught Jungwon's eye across the table, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. For once, it felt like you were truly on the same side, united in your recognition of the situation's irony.

As the men discussed business, Mrs. Yang leaned closer to you. "You know, dear, I've been meaning to ask... it's been a year now. Any news you'd like to share? Any... expectations?"

The delicate emphasis made her meaning clear. You felt heat rise to your face, embarrassment mingling with a deeper discomfort.

"Not yet," you replied quietly, maintaining your composure despite the intrusive question.

"Well, there's still time," she said, patting your hand. "Though of course, an heir is important for the Yang legacy. My husband's grandmother used to say, 'A tree without new leaves withers.'"

You nodded politely, taking a sip of wine to avoid having to respond further. Across the table, you noticed Jungwon's shoulders tense, though he gave no other indication of having overheard.

The rest of the evening passed in a similar vein—discussions of business, thinly veiled inquiries about family planning, and reminiscences about the wedding that focused primarily on its beneficial outcomes for the Yang family interests.

Not once did anyone ask if you were happy.

After seeing his parents and Mr. Kim to the door, Jungwon returned to the sitting room where you were nursing a final glass of wine. The house felt unnaturally quiet after the departure of the guests, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"My mother was pleased," he said, loosening his tie and pouring himself another whiskey. "She said the dinner was perfect."

"Of course she did," you replied, a hint of bitterness seeping into your voice despite your best efforts. "Everything about us is perfect on the surface."

Jungwon looked at you sharply. "What does that mean?"

The wine, the emotional strain of the evening, the accumulation of a year's worth of silences—something inside you finally cracked.

"It means this," you gestured between the two of you, "isn't a marriage. It's a business arrangement with living quarters."

His expression hardened. "That's unfair. I've given you everything you could want."

"Everything except yourself," you countered, your voice rising slightly. "We live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, but you might as well be a thousand miles away."

"I don't know what you expect," he said stiffly. "We both understood the nature of this marriage from the beginning."

"Did we? Because I didn't agree to a lifetime of politeness and distance. I didn't agree to be nothing more than the perfect hostess and social coordinator for your business connections."

Jungwon set down his glass with careful precision. "You've never complained before."

"When would I have complained, Jungwon? During the three minutes of conversation we have each morning? Or perhaps during our public performances where we pretend to be a loving couple?"

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling its perfect arrangement. "I thought you were satisfied with our arrangement. You manage the household, attend the events, fulfill your responsibilities—"

"Responsibilities?" The word struck like a match against your accumulated frustration. "Is that all I am to you? A set of responsibilities to be fulfilled?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Please, enlighten me about my role in this arrangement, since clearly I've misunderstood."

His jaw tightened. "You're my wife."

"Your wife," you repeated, the word suddenly sounding hollow. "And what does that mean to you? Because from where I stand, I might as well be your assistant or your housekeeper for all the genuine connection between us."

"You're being dramatic," he said dismissively. "Perhaps you've had too much wine."

The condescension in his tone was the final straw. A year of suppressed emotions—loneliness, frustration, yearning—erupted like a volcano too long dormant.

"Don't you dare dismiss me," you snapped, rising to your feet. "I have spent a year of my life walking on eggshells, trying to be perfect, trying to please you and your family, and for what? A thank you when I select the right tie? A nod of approval when I make the right business connection?"

Jungwon stared at you, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I don't understand where this is coming from."

"Of course you don't! You've never bothered to see me as anything more than a convenient addition to your perfectly ordered life. Wake up at five, ignore wife, go to work, come home, work more, sleep. Repeat until death."

"That's not fair," he protested, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Isn't it? When was the last time you asked me about my day? Or shared something personal about yours? When was the last time you looked at me—really looked at me—not as the 'Madame' of this house or as an accessory at a business function, but as a woman? As your wife?"

The color drained from Jungwon's face, but you were beyond stopping now. The floodgates had opened, and a year's worth of unspoken thoughts poured forth in a torrent.

"We haven't even consummated our marriage, Jungwon! One year, and you've never once reached for me in the night. Never once kissed me with anything resembling passion. Do you have any idea how that feels? To lie beside someone night after night, wanting to be touched, to be desired, and meeting nothing but polite distance?"

His eyes widened in shock at your bluntness. "I—I thought you preferred our current arrangement. You never indicated—"

"Indicated?" You laughed, the sound brittle. "Would it have mattered if I had? You barely look at me when we're alone together. You keep yourself locked in your office until I'm asleep. Tell me, Jungwon, are you repulsed by me? Is that it?"

"No!" The vehemence of his response surprised you both. "That's not it at all."

"Then what? What keeps you at arm's length? Because I can't live like this anymore—this half-life of appearances and politeness with nothing real beneath it."

You moved closer, anger giving you courage you'd never had before. "How do you satisfy your desires, Jungwon? Do you have someone else? Some mistress in an apartment downtown who gets to see the real you? Who gets to feel your touch, your passion?"

He looked genuinely shocked. "There's no one else. I would never—"

"Then what?" Your voice broke slightly. "Are you simply that cold? That disconnected from your own body, your own needs? Because I refuse to believe a healthy man in his prime feels nothing, wants nothing."

Jungwon's jaw tightened. "This conversation is inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" You were nearly shouting now. "We're married! This is exactly the conversation we should have had months ago! Do you have any idea what it's like to wonder if there's something wrong with you? To lie awake wondering why your husband never reaches for you? To start believing that maybe you're fundamentally undesirable?"

"That's not—" he began, but you cut him off.

"I've started inventing stories in my head, Jungwon. Elaborate scenarios to explain why my husband treats me like a porcelain doll. Maybe you're secretly in love with someone from your past. Maybe you prefer men. Maybe you have some medical condition you're too embarrassed to discuss. I've considered everything because the alternative—that you simply feel nothing for me—is too painful to bear."

His face had gone pale. "It's none of those things."

"Then help me understand," you pleaded, anger giving way to raw vulnerability. "Because the silence is killing me. The wondering is killing me. Are you like this with everyone? This... removed? This contained? Or is it just me you can't bring yourself to touch?"

Jungwon paced away from you, his composure cracking visibly. For a moment, he looked like he might retreat to his office—his usual escape—but instead, he stopped at the window, staring out at the darkness.

"I live in my head," he said so quietly you almost missed it. "Always have. Physical... intimacy... doesn't come naturally to me."

"Have you ever let yourself feel something?" you asked, your tone softer now. "With anyone?"

He was silent for so long you thought he might not answer. When he did, his voice was strained. "There was someone in college. It ended badly. I lost control, became... emotional. My father said it was embarrassing. Unbecoming of a Yang."

The confession surprised you. This tiny glimpse into his past felt like more intimacy than you'd experienced in a year of marriage.

"And since then?"

"Since then I've learned to be careful. Controlled." He turned to face you. "I thought I was respecting your space. Your independence."

"Respecting my space?" You stared at him incredulously. "There's a difference between respect and indifference, Jungwon."

"I'm not indifferent to you," he said quietly.

"Then what are you? Because from my perspective, I might as well be living alone for all the emotional connection between us."

He turned away again, his shoulders rigid with tension. "I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?"

"This." He gestured vaguely. "Marriage. Intimacy. I wasn't raised for it."

"Neither was I," you countered. "But I'm trying. I've been trying for a year while you've been hiding behind work and politeness and duty."

You moved to stand beside him at the window, close but not touching. "Do you ever look at me and feel anything, Jungwon? Anything at all? Because sometimes I catch you watching me when you think I won't notice, and there's something in your eyes that disappears the moment I turn toward you."

He swallowed visibly. "I notice everything about you," he admitted, the words seeming to cost him. "The way you arrange flowers according to your mood. How you always leave the last bite of dessert. The small sigh you make when you're reading something that touches you."

The revelation stunned you. "Then why—"

"Because wanting leads to needing," he interrupted, his voice suddenly raw. "And needing makes you vulnerable. My father taught me that. The moment you need someone, you've given them the power to destroy you."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of truths finally spoken aloud. When Jungwon finally turned back to face you, his expression was uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, and for once, the question seemed genuine.

The simplicity of the question momentarily deflated your anger. What did you want? It was a question you'd asked yourself countless times during sleepless nights.

"I want a husband, not a housemate," you said finally. "I want to know the man behind the perfect facade. I want to feel wanted, desired, known. I want the possibility of love, even if it's not there yet."

Your voice cracked on the last words, and you felt tears threatening. "Sometimes I think if I sleep with you once and let you get me pregnant, at least I won't be so damn lonely. At least I'd have someone who needs me, truly needs me, not just for appearances or social connections."

"A child deserves better than to be born from desperation," Jungwon said softly, surprising you with his insight.

"And a wife deserves better than emotional abandonment," you countered. "I look at other couples sometimes—even the arranged marriages in our circle—and I see moments of genuine tenderness. A hand on a shoulder. A private smile. Small intimacies that say 'I see you, I choose you.' We have none of that, Jungwon."

He flinched as if struck. "Is that what you think? That I only see you as a means to an heir?"

"How would I know what you think?" you demanded. "You barely speak to me about anything that matters. For all I know, you've mapped out our entire future in that methodical mind of yours—the optimal time for children, their education, their role in continuing the Yang legacy—all without once considering what I might want, what I might need as a woman, as a person."

"That's not true," he protested, but his voice lacked conviction.

"When have you ever shared your fears with me, Jungwon? Your hopes? Your dreams beyond the next business deal or family obligation? When have you ever asked about mine?"

He had no answer, and his silence was damning.

"I can't do this anymore," you said, suddenly exhausted. "I can't keep pretending that this empty performance is enough. I need more than politeness and perfect appearances. I need connection. I need intimacy. I need to at least feel that there's the possibility of love someday."

"And if I can't give you that?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

The question hung in the air between you, a challenge and a plea at once. You met his gaze directly.

"Then this marriage is already over, regardless of what we show the world."

The words fell like stones into still water, ripples of consequence expanding outward. Jungwon's face paled, and something like genuine fear flickered in his eyes.

"You would leave?" he asked, the question revealing more vulnerability than he'd shown in a year of marriage.

"Not in body, perhaps," you replied. "The scandal would devastate both our families. But in spirit? I'm already halfway gone, Jungwon. Every day of polite distance pushes me further away."

He sank onto the sofa, looking suddenly lost. This wasn't the composed, controlled man you'd lived alongside for a year. This was someone else—someone real and raw and unsure.

"I don't know how to be what you need," he admitted finally.

"I'm not asking for perfection," you said, your anger giving way to a profound sadness. "I'm asking for effort. For honesty. For the chance to build something real together, even if it's difficult. Even if we don't know exactly how."

Jungwon stared at his hands, his wedding ring catching the light. For a long moment, he said nothing. When he finally looked up, his eyes held a complexity of emotion you'd never seen before.

"I need time," he said. "To think. To... process all of this."

The request was reasonable, but it still stung. Even now, faced with the potential collapse of your marriage, he couldn't give you an immediate response.

"Fine," you said, suddenly bone-weary. "Take your time. You know where to find me."

You turned to leave, your body heavy with emotional exhaustion, when his voice stopped you.

"Where are you going?"

"To the blue guest room," you replied without turning. "I think we both need space tonight."

He made no move to stop you as you left the sitting room, your anniversary dress rustling softly with each step. The grand staircase seemed longer than usual, each step an effort. Behind you, you heard the clink of glass—Jungwon pouring another drink, perhaps, or simply moving restlessly in the silent house.

The blue guest room was immaculate, as was every room in the mansion, but it felt cold and impersonal. You sat on the edge of the bed, still in your evening dress, too tired even to cry. The confrontation had drained you completely, leaving nothing but a hollow ache where hope had once resided.

From the nightstand, your phone chimed with a message. Mechanically, you reached for it, expecting perhaps your mother-in-law with some post-dinner comment.

Instead, it was Jungwon.

I do want you. I always have. That's what frightens me.

You stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as you read them over and over. A text message—that was what it had taken to finally glimpse the man behind the mask. Not a conversation, not a touch, but characters on a screen.

Another message appeared below the first.

I'm sorry. I should have said this to your face.

I'll be in the study when you're ready to talk. No matter how late.

The formality, even now. The careful distance maintained even in apology. You placed the phone back on the nightstand without responding, a weariness settling over you that went beyond physical exhaustion.

For a moment, you sat motionless on the edge of the guest bed, the weight of the past year pressing down on your shoulders. The perfect house with its perfect furnishings suddenly felt suffocating—every object a reminder of the performance your life had become.

You rose and moved to the window, pressing your palm against the cool glass. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the night remained dark and close. The mansion grounds, usually so meticulously maintained, seemed oppressive in their perfection. Even the garden paths were laid out with mathematical precision, every plant and stone exactly where it should be.

Like you. Exactly where you should be. The proper wife in her proper place.

The realization came suddenly, with absolute clarity: you couldn't stay here tonight. Not in this guest room, not in this house, not with Jungwon waiting in his study for a conversation that would likely end with more careful words and measured promises.

You needed air. Space. A place where you could remember who you were before becoming Mrs. Yang.

With deliberate movements, you changed out of your evening dress and into simple clothes. Packed a small overnight bag with essentials. Found your personal credit card—the one not connected to the Yang family accounts.

You hesitated only when it came time to write a note. What could you possibly say that wouldn't be misinterpreted or dismissed? In the end, you kept it simple:

I need space to breathe. Please don't follow me. I'll contact you when I'm ready.

You left it on the bed, where it would surely be found when someone came looking for you. Then, silently, you made your way down the service stairs and through the side entrance—avoiding the main foyer where you might encounter Jungwon.

The night air hit your face as you stepped outside, cool and clean and startlingly fresh. You took a deep breath, perhaps the first real one in months, and felt something inside you loosen just slightly.

You didn't call for the driver. Instead, you walked down the long driveway and past the gates, your heartbeat quickening with each step that took you farther from the mansion. Only when you reached the main road did you order a rideshare, giving the address of an old friend—one who predated your marriage, who had no connection to the Yang family circle.

As the car pulled away, you glanced back at the house—a magnificent silhouette against the night sky, lights burning in the study window where Jungwon waited for a conversation that wouldn't happen tonight.

Tomorrow would bring complications, explanations, perhaps reconciliation. But tonight, for the first time in a year, you were choosing yourself.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Jungwon.

Are you coming down?

You turned off the notifications and watched the mansion recede in the distance, growing smaller until it disappeared from view entirely.

The city lights blurred through your tears as the car wound its way through the quiet streets. The driver, sensing your distress, maintained a respectful silence, occasionally glancing at you in the rearview mirror with concern. You kept your face turned toward the window, watching as elite neighborhoods gave way to more modest surroundings.

When the car finally pulled up outside Leah's apartment building, you sat motionless for a moment, suddenly uncertain. It was past midnight. What if she wasn't home? What if she had company? What if—

"We're here, ma'am," the driver said gently, interrupting your spiraling thoughts.

"Thank you," you managed, gathering your small bag and stepping out into the night.

Leah's building was nothing like the Yang mansion—a six-story pre-war structure with a faded charm that stood in stark contrast to the sleek modernity you'd grown accustomed to. You hesitated at the entrance, then pressed her apartment number on the intercom.

After a long moment, a sleepy voice answered. "Hello?"

"Leah," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "It's me. I'm sorry it's so late, but—"

"Oh my god!" The sleepiness vanished instantly. "Are you okay? I'm buzzing you up right now."

The door clicked open, and you made your way to the third floor, each step feeling heavier than the last. Before you could even knock, Leah's door swung open, revealing your oldest friend in mismatched pajamas, her curly hair wild around her face.

"What happened?" she demanded, then stopped as she took in your appearance—the elegant makeup now streaked with tears, the designer clothes hastily exchanged for whatever you'd grabbed, the overnight bag clutched in your trembling hand.

"Oh, honey," she said, simply opening her arms.

Something inside you broke. You stumbled forward into her embrace and the tears you'd been holding back for months—perhaps for the entire year of your marriage—finally erupted. Great, heaving sobs that shook your entire body, that made it impossible to speak or breathe or think.

Leah didn't ask questions. She simply guided you inside, closing the door behind you, and held you while you fell apart. Her apartment was cluttered and lived-in, books stacked on every surface, half-finished art projects leaning against walls—the complete opposite of your sterile perfection at the mansion.

"I can't—" you tried to speak, but the words dissolved into more tears.

"Shh," she soothed, leading you to her worn but comfortable couch. "Just breathe. That's all you need to do right now."

You don't know how long you cried—long enough for your eyes to swell, for your throat to grow raw, for Leah's shoulder to become damp with your tears. Eventually, the storm subsided enough for you to become aware of your surroundings again. Leah had wrapped a soft blanket around your shoulders and was pressing a mug of hot tea into your hands.

"Small sips," she instructed, settling beside you. "It has honey for your throat."

You obeyed, the warmth spreading through your chest, momentarily calming the chaos inside you.

"I left him," you said finally, your voice hoarse from crying.

Leah's eyebrows shot up. "Jungwon? You left Jungwon?"

"Just for tonight. Maybe a few days. I don't know." You shook your head, struggling to articulate the tangle of emotions. "I couldn't breathe there anymore, Leah. In that perfect house with its perfect things and its perfect emptiness."

"I always wondered," she said cautiously, "if you were really happy. You stopped talking about the real stuff after the wedding. It was all charity events and dinner parties, but never... you know. The actual marriage part."

"There was no marriage part," you confessed, fresh tears threatening. "That's the problem. We live side by side like strangers. Polite, distant strangers who happen to share the same address."

Leah reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "Did something specific happen tonight?"

You nodded, the evening's confrontation flashing through your mind in painful fragments. "We had our anniversary dinner with his parents. And after they left, I just... broke. All the things I've been holding back for a year came pouring out."

"Good for you," Leah said firmly.

"Is it?" You looked at her, uncertain. "I said terrible things, Leah. I accused him of seeing me as nothing but a showpiece, a means to an heir. I asked if he was repulsed by me. If he was sleeping with someone else."

"And what did he say?"

"He was shocked, mostly. I don't think anyone's ever spoken to him like that before." You took another sip of tea, gathering your thoughts. "But then he said something about... about wanting me but being afraid of needing someone. Of being vulnerable."

Leah nodded thoughtfully. "That actually makes a strange kind of sense. Your husband always struck me as someone who keeps himself under tight control."

"You've met him twice," you pointed out with a watery smile.

"Twice was enough." She grinned briefly, then grew serious again. "So what happens now?"

You shook your head, feeling utterly lost. "I don't know. I just knew I had to get out of there tonight. To remember what it feels like to be... me. Not Mrs. Yang, not the society hostess, just me."

"Well, you came to the right place," Leah said, gesturing around her chaotic apartment. "Nothing perfect or polished here. Just real life in all its messy glory."

For the first time that night, you felt a small laugh bubble up. "I've missed this. I've missed you."

"I've been right here," she reminded you gently. "You're the one who got swept up into the Yang universe."

The observation stung because it contained truth. After the wedding, you had gradually withdrawn from your old friendships, immersing yourself in the role expected of Jungwon's wife. It hadn't been a conscious choice, but rather a slow submersion into a new identity that had eventually consumed the person you used to be.

"I don't know who I am anymore," you confessed, the realization dawning as you spoke it. "I've spent so long being what everyone else needed me to be that I've forgotten what I actually want."

"Then maybe that's what this time away is for," Leah suggested. "To remember."

You nodded, exhaustion suddenly washing over you. The emotional release had drained what little energy you had left after the confrontation with Jungwon.

"The guest room is a disaster area right now—art supplies everywhere," Leah said apologetically.

"The couch is perfect," you assured her, overwhelmed.

"Shut up, you'll sleep next to me,"

Jungwon sat in his study, crystal tumbler of whiskey untouched beside him, as he stared at his phone screen. The message showed as delivered, but not yet read. He refreshed the screen again, a gesture he'd repeated dozens of times in the last hour.

Are you coming down?

The timestamp mocked him. It had been nearly two hours since he'd sent it, and still no response. Unease had gradually transformed into concern, then alarm when he'd finally ventured upstairs to find the blue guest room empty, save for a handwritten note on the perfectly made bed.

I need space to breathe. Please don't follow me. I'll contact you when I'm ready.

The words had hit him with physical force. He stood there staring at the note, reading it over and over as if the sparse sentences might reveal some hidden meaning. Space to breathe. Had he really been suffocating you all this time without realizing it?

Now, back in his study, Jungwon fought against his instinct to act—to call security, to track your phone, to send drivers searching the city. You had asked for space. Following you would only prove that he couldn't respect your wishes, your independence. The very thing he'd convinced himself he'd been protecting all this time.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

Jungwon picked up his phone again, debating whether to try calling. His thumb hovered over your contact information before he set the device down with a sigh of frustration. What would he even say if you answered? The right words had eluded him for an entire year of marriage; they weren't likely to materialize now, in the middle of the night, after the worst fight of your relationship.

A relationship. Was that even the right word for what you had? You had called it a "business arrangement with living quarters," and the brutal accuracy of the description had left him speechless.

Jungwon ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it completely. The careful composure he maintained at all times had crumbled the moment he'd found your note. Now, alone in his study, there was no one to witness his distress, his uncertainty, his fear.

Fear. That was the emotion he'd denied for so long, burying it beneath layers of control and duty. Fear of needing someone. Fear of being vulnerable. Fear of repeating his father's cold, loveless existence.

And in trying to avoid his father's mistakes, he had made his own. Different in method, perhaps, but identical in result: a wife who felt unseen, unwanted.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed two in the morning. Jungwon hadn't slept, had barely moved from his position at the desk. The silence of the mansion pressed in around him, no longer the peaceful quiet he'd always preferred, but an emptiness that echoed your absence.

On impulse, he rose and left the study, walking through the darkened house toward the master suite. Inside the bedroom, everything remained exactly as you'd both left it hours earlier—your perfume bottle on the vanity, your book on the nightstand, your robe draped over a chair. He moved to your side of the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and picked up the book you'd been reading.

A collection of poetry. Jungwon hadn't even known you liked poetry.

What else didn't he know about the woman he'd married? What interests, dreams, fears had you kept hidden—or worse, had tried to share only to be met with his characteristic reserve?

He opened the book to where a silk bookmark held your place. The poem was circled lightly in pencil:

Between what is said and not meant, And what is meant and not said, Most of love is lost.

The simple lines struck him with unexpected force. Jungwon stared at the words, wondering how many times you had tried to tell him what you needed, how many signals he had missed or misinterpreted.

From his pocket, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. His heart leapt as he fumbled to answer, but the caller ID showed his father's name, not yours.

"Father," he answered, struggling to keep his voice even. "It's very late."

"Where is your wife?" Mr. Yang's voice was sharp, cutting through the pretense of pleasantries.

Jungwon tensed. "How did you—"

"Mrs. Park saw her getting into a taxi. Alone. After midnight. She naturally called your mother with concerns."

Of course. The gossip network never slept. "She's visiting a friend," he said carefully.

"In the middle of the night? Without you?" His father's skepticism was palpable. "Do you take me for a fool, Jungwon? What's going on?"

A familiar pattern attempted to reassert itself—the urge to placate his father, to maintain appearances, to ensure the Yang family reputation remained unsullied. For a moment, he almost slipped into the expected response.

But the circled poem caught his eye again. Most of love is lost. He couldn't lose any more.

"We had a disagreement," Jungwon said finally, the admission feeling like ripping off a bandage. "She needed some space."

"A disagreement?" His father's tone grew icier. "Serious enough for her to leave the house? To risk being seen by others, creating speculation? What were you thinking, allowing this?"

The word "allowing" ignited something in him—a flicker of the same defiance he'd felt when his father had demanded he end his college relationship.

"I wasn't 'allowing' anything, Father. She's my wife, not my subordinate. She made a choice, and I'm respecting it."

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Never in his adult life had Jungwon spoken to his father with such open opposition.

"This is unacceptable," Mr. Yang said finally. "You will resolve whatever childish spat has occurred and bring her home immediately. The gala next week—"

"Is not as important as my marriage," Jungwon interrupted, surprising himself with the firmness in his voice.

"Your marriage? Suddenly you care about your marriage?" His father's laugh was without humor. "For a year you've treated it exactly as I advised—as a beneficial arrangement. Now you're telling me you've developed feelings? Become sentimental?"

The contempt in the older man's voice was unmistakable, but instead of cowering as he might have in the past, Jungwon felt a strange calm settle over him.

"Yes," he said simply. "I have feelings for my wife. I always have. And I've been wrong to hide them."

"This is disappointing, Jungwon. I expected better from you."

"I'm beginning to think your expectations are precisely the problem, Father." Jungwon took a deep breath. "I need to go now. It's late, and I have some thinking to do."

"Don't you dare hang up on—"

Jungwon ended the call, staring at the phone in mild disbelief at his own actions. Then, with deliberate movements, he silenced the device and set it aside.

Returning to the poetry book, he carefully noted the page number of the circled poem, then moved through the house to your closet. There, among the designer clothes and accessories, he searched for some clue to the woman behind the perfect facade—the woman he'd married but never truly allowed himself to know.

In the back of a drawer, he found a small wooden box, simple and clearly personal. For a moment, his ingrained respect for privacy warred with his desperate need to understand you. Privacy won—he couldn't begin rebuilding trust by violating it—but the box's existence gave him hope. There were parts of yourself you'd kept separate from your arranged life, a core identity preserved despite the pressures of being Mrs. Yang.

Jungwon returned to the study, his earlier paralysis replaced by a growing resolve. He wouldn't chase you—you'd asked for space, and he would respect that. But he could prepare for your return, could begin the work of becoming someone worthy of a second chance.

The task seemed monumentally difficult, decades of conditioning standing in opposition to what he now knew he needed to do. He had no model for the kind of husband he wanted to become, no example of vulnerability balanced with strength.

But for the first time since you'd walked out, Jungwon felt something like hope. If you gave him the chance, he would find a way to be better. To be real. To tear down the walls he'd built over a lifetime of emotional suppression.

Dawn was breaking outside the study windows when he finally drafted a message, simple and without expectation:

I understand you need space, and I respect that. I'll be here when you're ready to talk—whether that's tomorrow or next week. I'm sorry for a year of silence. I'm listening now.

He sent it before he could second-guess himself, then set the phone down and moved to the window. Outside, the gardens were beginning to emerge from darkness, the first light revealing dew on the perfectly manicured lawns.

For once, Jungwon didn't see the perfection. Instead, he noticed how the morning light caught in a spider's web between two branches, transforming the fragile structure into something beautiful and strong. Perhaps there was a lesson there, in vulnerability's unexpected resilience.

As the mansion gradually woke around him—staff arriving, coffee brewing, the day's preparations beginning—Jungwon remained at the window, watching the light change and wondering if you, wherever you were, might be watching the same sunrise.

The mansion felt impossibly silent as Jungwon moved through the darkened hallways, your poetry book clutched in his hand like a lifeline. Sleep had become not just elusive but impossible, the vast emptiness of your shared bed a physical manifestation of what had been missing between you for a year. The sheets still carried your scent—a subtle perfume that he'd never properly acknowledged until now, when its absence made the fabric seem cold and lifeless.

He couldn't bear to remain in that room, surrounded by the ghosts of a thousand nights spent in careful distance. Instead, he found himself back in his study, the room that had been his refuge from intimacy for so long. Now it felt like a prison of his own making, walls lined with business achievements that suddenly seemed hollow.

With trembling hands, he placed your book on his desk and opened it once more to the marked page, the one with the circled verse that had first pierced his carefully constructed armor:

Between what is said and not meant,

And what is meant and not said,

Most of love is lost.

His fingers traced your handwriting in the margin—small, delicate notes that revealed more about your inner thoughts than a year of careful conversation had. Next to this poem, you'd written simply: Us? with the question mark trailing off like a fading hope.

One word, followed by a question mark. So much longing contained in those three small letters. Had you written this recently, or months ago? Had you been silently questioning the emptiness between you while he maintained his facade of contentment?

Jungwon turned the page, discovering more of your markings. Some poems had stars beside them, others had entire stanzas underlined. Some had exclamation points, others question marks. It was like finding a secret language, a code he should have deciphered long ago.

A poem about two rivers running parallel without ever meeting carried your annotation: This is what marriage feels like. So close yet never touching.

His breath caught. When had you written that? While lying beside him in bed, bodies carefully not touching? While sitting across from him at breakfast, exchanging polite comments about the day ahead?

He continued reading, unable to stop himself now. Each page revealed more of your hidden inner life. A poem about seasonal changes had reminds me of childhood summers before expectations written in the margin. Another about distant mountains carried the note wish we could travel together somewhere without his family or business associates.

Each annotation was a window into desires you'd never expressed, dreams you'd kept hidden. Why had he never asked what you wanted? Where you longed to go? What made you happy?

The night deepened around him, but Jungwon barely noticed. He was falling into your world, glimpsing for the first time the woman behind the perfect wife he'd taken for granted.

Then he found a page with the corner folded down, a poem about physical love:

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Your handwriting beside it was more hurried, almost feverish: too much to hope for? would he ever lose control enough?

Jungwon's throat tightened painfully. All those nights lying beside you, maintaining a careful distance, while you marked poems about passion and wrote desperate questions no one would see. How many nights had you lain awake, wanting him to reach for you? How many times had you considered reaching for him, only to retreat in fear of rejection?

He turned more pages, finding increasingly intimate selections. Next to Pablo Neruda's words:

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes

You'd written: I dream of his mouth on my skin. Would he be disgusted by such thoughts?

The pain that shot through him was physical. Disgusted? How could you think that? But then, what else could you think when he'd maintained such careful distance, when he'd retreated to his study each night rather than face the vulnerability of desire?

Another poem, this one about hands tracing the geography of a lover's body, carried your note: I've memorized the shape of his hands during dinner parties, imagined them on me instead of on his wine glass.

Jungwon looked down at his own hands, remembering all the times they'd almost touched you—passing dishes at dinner, handing you into the car, the brief contact when giving you a gift—and how he'd always pulled back just slightly too soon. What would have happened if he'd let his fingers linger? If he'd given in to the urge to trace the line of your jaw, to feel the softness of your skin?

Hours passed as he lost himself in your secret thoughts. Some poems had tear stains, barely perceptible wrinkles in the paper where droplets had fallen and dried. Those broke him most of all—the tangible evidence of your solitary tears, shed perhaps just feet away from where he sat working, oblivious to your pain.

One poem about loneliness had simply: I am disappearing inside this house, inside this marriage, becoming nothing but "Mrs. Yang" scrawled across the bottom in handwriting that shook with emotion.

Dawn found him still at his desk, eyes burning from reading and from tears he hadn't realized he was shedding. The morning staff moved quietly through the house, shocked to see him disheveled and unshaven, the immaculate Yang heir looking like a man undone.

He ignored their concerned glances, your poetry book still open before him. But it wasn't enough. One book couldn't contain all of you. He needed more.

"Sir," the housekeeper approached hesitantly as Jungwon emerged from his study, still in yesterday's clothes, "would you like your breakfast now?"

"No," he replied, his voice hoarse from a night without sleep. "I need to see all of Madame's books. Every book in this house that she's ever touched."

The housekeeper exchanged a worried glance with the butler. "All of them, sir?"

"Every single one. Novels, poetry, anything with her handwriting in it. Bring them to the library."

He moved with feverish purpose to the library, pulling books from shelves himself—any that showed signs of your touch. Dog-eared pages, bookmarks, the slight cracking of spines that indicated frequent opening to favorite passages.

Throughout the day, the staff delivered more and more books—novels from your nightstand, reference books from the sunroom shelves, journals from your writing desk. Jungwon created careful piles around him, transforming the library floor into a map of your mind.

He found a travel book about Greece with dozens of Post-it notes marking specific locations. The private cove where no one would expect Mrs. Yang to swim naked read one note that made his heart race. Another, beside a picture of a small village: No social obligations, no family expectations—heaven.

You'd been dreaming of escape. From the mansion, from the Yang name, from him? The thought was unbearable.

In your copy of Jane Eyre, he found your underlining of Rochester's passionate declaration: "I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you." Beside it, your handwriting: To be truly SEEN by someone. What would that feel like?

"Oh god," he whispered, the words escaping involuntarily. "You've never felt seen."

How could he have failed so completely? He, who prided himself on his attention to detail in business, had missed everything that mattered about the woman who shared his home, his name, his bed.

As afternoon turned to evening, Jungwon discovered a small leather journal tucked between larger books on a bottom shelf. He hesitated, knowing this was crossing a line from reading your notes to reading your private thoughts. But his need to know you, to understand what he'd missed, overrode his sense of propriety.

The journal wasn't a diary but a collection of poems you'd written yourself, clumsy in places but raw with emotion:

I practice conversations with you in my head

Witty things I might say that would make you look at me

Really look at me

But when you enter the room

My words evaporate like morning dew

And we speak of dinner parties and business associates

Never of stars or dreams or why your eyes

Sometimes follow me when you think I don't notice

Jungwon felt his careful composure—the mask he'd worn his entire adult life—shatter completely. You had seen him watching you. Had known there was something beneath his polite facade. But he'd never given you enough to be sure, had never been brave enough to let you see his wanting.

Another poem, dated just two months ago:

Your fingers brushed mine as you handed me a glass

Accidental touch that burned through my skin

I wonder if you felt it too

That current between us, electric and dangerous

Or if I imagined it, desperate for connection

For any sign that beneath your perfect suit

Beats a heart that could want me

As much as I want you

He had felt it. Every accidental touch, every brush of your hand, every moment when you stood close enough that he could smell your perfume. He had felt everything and denied it all, retreating into work and duty and the expectations drilled into him since childhood.

The worst entry was the most recent, written just days before your anniversary:

One year of marriage

Three hundred sixty-five nights of lying beside him

Listening to his breathing

Wondering if he's awake

Wondering if he ever thinks of touching me

Of breaking through the invisible wall between us

One year of perfect Mrs. Yang While the woman inside me slowly suffocates

Sometimes I think if I just reached for him once

If I was brave enough to cross that divide

But what if his rejection destroyed the last piece of me

That still believes I'm worthy of being

Wanted.

Jungwon closed the journal, his vision blurred with tears. You had been silently begging for him to reach across the divide while he had been congratulating himself on respecting your independence. The magnitude of his failure crushed him.

He didn't eat that day. Didn't change clothes. Didn't acknowledge the increasingly concerned staff who hovered at the library's periphery. Instead, he immersed himself in your hidden world, learning you through the books you'd loved, the passages you'd marked, the words you'd written when you thought no one would see.

Dawn arrived, but Jungwon had lost all sense of time. The library floor was covered with open books, each one containing fragments of your soul. He had read himself into a state of emotional exhaustion, discovering more and more evidence of your loneliness, your desire, your gradual loss of hope.

A desperate energy seized him. Reading wasn't enough. He needed to act, to change, to create physical evidence of his awakening before you returned—if you returned.

He summoned the head gardener, ignoring the man's shocked expression at his disheveled appearance.

"I need every peony on the estate moved to the front garden," he announced, his voice rough from disuse. "Every single one. From all the gardens, the greenhouse, everywhere."

"Sir, that would be hundreds of plants," the gardener protested. "And the formal design—"

"I don't care about the design," Jungwon interrupted, thinking of a note he'd found beside a picture of a wild garden: Why must everything be so ordered? So perfect? I long for beautiful chaos. "I want them arranged naturally. The way they would grow if they chose their own placement."

"But sir, your mother's landscape plan—"

"Is no longer relevant." Jungwon's eyes flashed with an intensity that made the gardener step back. "The peonies were always her choice, not my wife's. I want a garden that reflects what she loves."

"This will take all day, possibly longer," the gardener warned.

"Then start immediately. And I need something else. The bookshelves from the east parlor—bring them to the east garden. All of them."

The staff exchanged alarmed glances, but Jungwon was beyond caring about their concerns. He continued issuing instructions, driven by the need to transform the mansion—to break the perfect mold that had trapped you both.

"Sir," the butler ventured cautiously when the others had gone to carry out these strange orders, "perhaps you should rest. You haven't slept or eaten—"

"How can I rest?" Jungwon's voice broke with emotion. "Do you know what I've discovered? She's been living here for a year, lonely and unfulfilled, while I congratulated myself on being a proper husband. I've failed her completely."

The butler, who had served the Yang family for decades, had never seen the young master in such a state. "Sir, if I may... it's never too late to change course."

Jungwon looked at him sharply. "Have you seen her? Has she contacted anyone?"

"No, sir. But knowing Madame, she's not one to leave matters unresolved."

With renewed determination, Jungwon returned to the library. He selected dozens of books containing your most revealing notes and had them brought to the east garden. As the shelves were positioned on the grass, he began arranging the books, creating a physical testament to what he'd learned.

The gardeners worked throughout the day, transplanting hundreds of peonies to the front garden in a naturalistic arrangement that would horrify his mother but, he hoped, would speak to you. The once-formal approach to the house transformed into an explosion of your favorite flowers, arranged with the organic randomness of nature rather than the rigid precision of Yang tradition.

By late afternoon, Jungwon had created an outdoor library in the east garden—the private corner of the grounds where you often walked alone. He placed books on the shelves and opened others on the grass around him, creating a circle of revelations.

He had sent the staff away, needing to be alone with the evidence of his awakening. His phone buzzed repeatedly—his father, his mother, business associates all demanding attention. He ignored them all.

Instead, he picked up your poetry journal again, reading and rereading your most vulnerable confessions. The precise handwriting becoming more jagged with emotion. The careful Mrs. Yang breaking through to the woman beneath.

As sunset painted the sky in shades of pink and gold, Jungwon sat amidst the books, surrounded by the fragments of you he'd collected, feeling more alive and more terrified than he had ever been. What if it was too late? What if you had already decided that the year of emotional solitude was too high a price for the Yang name and fortune?

He wouldn't blame you. How could he? He had offered you everything except himself.

Night fell, and still he remained in the garden, under stars you had once described in a margin note as witnesses to all our silent longings. He read your words by the light of lanterns the staff had silently provided, losing himself in the labyrinth of your unspoken desires.

In the faint light, he reread the poem that had started his journey—the one about love lost between what is said and not meant, what is meant and not said. He traced your question mark with his finger, feeling the slight indentation in the paper where you had pressed the pen, perhaps harder than you intended, the physical evidence of your frustration.

"I see you now," he whispered to the empty garden, to the books that held pieces of your soul. "I see you, and I'm terrified it's too late."

The night deepened around him, but Jungwon remained among the books, keeping vigil, waiting, hoping you would come home—and fearing you would not.

Five days since you'd left. Five days of freedom from the perfect imprisonment that had become your life. Five days to remember who you were before becoming Mrs. Yang.

On the morning of the sixth day, as you sat on Leah's small balcony with a chipped mug of coffee, your phone lit up with a text from Jungwon's personal assistant.

Mr. Yang has canceled all appointments for the foreseeable future. The household staff reports concerning behavior. If you could contact them, they would be grateful.

You stared at the message, rereading it several times. Jungwon never canceled appointments. Even when he'd had the flu last winter, he'd conducted meetings by video rather than reschedule. His schedule was sacred, immovable.

"What's wrong?" Leah asked, noticing your expression.

You handed her the phone. She read the message and raised her eyebrows.

"Sounds like someone's having a breakdown."

"Jungwon doesn't have breakdowns," you said automatically, then paused. The man you'd confronted before leaving—the one who'd admitted his fear of vulnerability, who'd texted you his feelings rather than say them aloud—perhaps that man did have breakdowns after all.

"Are you going to go check on him?" Leah asked.

You sighed, setting down your coffee. "I have to, don't I? At the very least, I need to get more of my things." You'd left with only a small overnight bag, having no plan beyond escape.

"Want me to come with you?"

"No," you said, more decisively than you felt. "This is something I need to do alone."

As you showered and dressed, you tried to prepare yourself for what awaited. Would Jungwon be coldly angry, his moment of vulnerability already locked away? Would he have summoned his parents, ready for a united front to convince you of your duties? Or would he simply be absent, buried in work as a shield against emotion?

In the rideshare on the way to the mansion, you rehearsed what to say. You would be calm but firm. This wasn't about blame anymore but about whether a real marriage was possible between you. You needed honesty, vulnerability, true partnership—not just the performance of marriage you'd endured for a year.

But as the car approached the gates of the estate, your carefully prepared speech evaporated. The formal gardens that had always greeted visitors with mathematical precision had been transformed. Instead of the orderly rows of seasonal blooms, there was a riot of peonies—your favorite flower—planted in natural, wild groupings that looked almost as if they had grown there spontaneously.

"Wait here," you told the driver. "I may not be staying."

As you walked up the long driveway, your heart hammered against your ribs. The front door opened before you reached it, the butler appearing with an expression of profound relief.

"Madame," he said, bowing slightly. "Thank goodness you've returned."

"I'm not staying necessarily," you clarified, stepping into the foyer. "I just came to—" You stopped, noticing more changes. The formal floral arrangements that always occupied the entryway tables had been replaced with wild, exuberant bouquets of peonies and wildflowers. "What's happening here?"

"Mr. Yang has been... making adjustments to the household," the butler replied diplomatically. "He's in the east garden. He's been there nearly two days now."

Two days? "Is he... is he all right?"

The butler hesitated. "I believe he's waiting for you, Madame."

You made your way through the house, noting more changes as you went. Books that had always been perfectly arranged on shelves now sat in haphazard stacks on tables, many open to specific pages. Your books, you realized, from your private collection.

When you reached the doors leading to the east garden—your favorite part of the grounds, where you often walked alone—you paused, gathering your courage.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you found.

The garden had been transformed into an outdoor library. Bookshelves stood on the grass in a semicircle, filled with books—your books—many open to display specific pages. And in the center, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by open volumes, was Jungwon.

You'd never seen him like this. His usually immaculate appearance was completely undone—hair disheveled, several days' stubble on his jaw, clothes rumpled as if he'd slept in them. He was reading intently from what you recognized as your private poetry journal, his expression a mixture of pain and wonder.

He looked up as your shadow fell across the page, and the naked hope and fear in his eyes made your breath catch.

"You came back," he said, his voice rough as if from disuse.

"What is all this?" you asked, gesturing to the surreal scene around you.

Jungwon carefully closed your journal and set it aside. He rose slowly to his feet, a man moving carefully so as not to shatter something fragile.

"I've been trying to find you," he said. "The real you. The one I should have been looking for all along."

You stepped closer, picking up one of the books from the grass. It was your copy of Neruda's love sonnets, open to a page where you'd scribbled Would he ever touch me like this? in the margin.

Heat rose to your face. "You've been reading my private notes?"

"Yes." Jungwon didn't try to justify or excuse it. "I needed to understand what I'd missed, what I'd ignored. I needed to see you—really see you."

You should have been angry at the invasion of privacy, but something in his broken expression stopped your protest. This wasn't the controlled, perfect Jungwon Yang you'd married. This was someone else entirely—raw, desperate, real.

"Do you have any idea," he continued, taking a step toward you, "how much you've wanted? How much you've needed? All these books, all these words you've underlined, notes you've written—they're full of longing I never acknowledged."

You remained silent, unsure what to say as he moved closer, stopping just short of touching you.

"I found your poem about lying beside me at night, wondering if I was awake, wondering if I ever thought about touching you." His voice broke slightly. "I did. Every night. I lay there wanting you, terrified of reaching for you, convinced that maintaining distance was the same as showing respect."

Your heart pounded so hard you were sure he must hear it. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I almost lost you." The simple truth hung in the air between you. "Because I realized that the thing I feared most—vulnerability, need, the possibility of rejection—was nothing compared to the emptiness of letting you walk away without ever knowing how much I want you. How much I've always wanted you."

To your shock, Jungwon suddenly dropped to his knees before you, looking up with eyes that held none of his usual composure.

"I don't deserve another chance," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I've been a coward, hiding behind duty and family expectations. But if you're willing—if there's any part of you that believes we could start again—I swear I will spend every day trying to be worthy of you."

You stood frozen, overwhelmed by his declaration, by the sight of Jungwon Yang—heir to an empire, always in perfect control—on his knees before you, walls finally shattered.

"I want to build a life with you," he continued, the words spilling out as if he couldn't contain them any longer. "A real life, not this performance we've been trapped in. I want mornings where we don't pretend to sleep through each other's routines. I want to hear about your day and tell you about mine. I want to take you to that cove in Greece where no one would expect Mrs. Yang to swim naked."

Your cheeks flamed at the reference to your private note in the travel book.

"I've read every word you've written in the margins," he confessed, his voice dropping lower. "I've memorized your poetry. The ones you circled, the ones you starred. Neruda's words—'I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees'—I understand them now. I feel them in my veins."

His eyes locked with yours, their intensity almost unbearable.

"I dream of you. Of being inside you. Of knowing nothing but the depth of your eyes when you look at me. Of drowning in your skin until my mind forgets every lesson in restraint I've ever learned." His voice shook slightly. "All those nights I lay beside you, rigid with control, while you wrote of desire in book margins—it was never indifference. It was fear. Fear of how completely I would surrender to you if I allowed myself a single touch."

You couldn't breathe, couldn't speak as he continued, years of suppressed desire breaking through the dam of his composure.

"I found where you wrote 'would he ever lose control enough?' The answer is yes. God, yes. Every moment of every day I've wanted to lose myself in you. To press you against walls, to taste every inch of your skin, to hear my name in your voice when I'm buried so deep inside you that we can't tell where I end and you begin."

He trembled visibly now, hands clenched at his sides to keep from reaching for you.

"I want children who know their father can feel, can love," he went on, his voice breaking. "I want to be the man you deserve—not the perfect Yang heir, but a husband who sees you, hears you, wants you exactly as you are."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back. This was what you'd wanted—wasn't it? The real man beneath the perfect facade. But now that he was here, raw and vulnerable, you found yourself terrified of your own power to hurt him, to be hurt again.

"I don't know if I can trust this," you admitted softly. "What happens when your father calls? When your mother visits? When business demands return? Will you retreat back behind those walls you've built over a lifetime?"

Jungwon nodded, acknowledging the fairness of your question. "I already told my father I won't be controlled by his expectations anymore. I hung up on him—" He gave a small, disbelieving laugh. "I actually hung up on him when he tried to order me to bring you back for appearances' sake."

Your eyes widened. In the Yang family hierarchy, defying the patriarch was unthinkable.

"I can't promise I'll never struggle," Jungwon continued. "A lifetime of conditioning doesn't disappear in a week. But I can promise to try. To talk instead of withdraw. To let you see me—all of me, even the parts I was taught to hide." He swallowed hard. "And I can promise that no business meeting, no family obligation, nothing will ever be more important to me than you are."

The morning sunlight filtered through the garden trees, casting dappled light across his face, highlighting the exhaustion in his eyes, the vulnerability in his expression. In that moment, all the trappings of wealth and status fell away, leaving just a man asking a woman for another chance.

"I love you," he said quietly, the words clearly strange on his tongue. "I think I have from the beginning, but I didn't know how to show it, how to say it, how to let myself feel it without fear."

Your carefully constructed walls began to crumble. The honesty in his eyes, the tremor in his voice—this wasn't another performance. This was real in a way nothing between you had been before.

You took a deep breath, making a decision that would change everything.

"Stand up," you said softly.

Jungwon rose slowly, uncertainty in every line of his body. He stood before you, not touching, waiting.

"I need time," you said finally. "Not away from you—I think we've had enough distance. But time here, together, building something real. Day by day. No quick fixes, no grand gestures, just... honest effort."

Relief washed over his face. "Anything. Whatever you need."

You reached out slowly, your hand trembling slightly as you placed it against his cheek. The stubble was rough under your palm—a tangible sign of his unraveling, his transformation.

"We start again," you said. "As equals. As partners. As two people choosing each other every day, not just fulfilling an arrangement."

Jungwon covered your hand with his own, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes," he agreed simply. "That's all I want. The chance to choose you, and to be chosen by you, every day."

You stood there in the garden surrounded by the evidence of his awakening—the books, the wildflowers, the breaking of perfect order that had defined your lives together. Nothing was resolved yet, not really. The real work of building a marriage would take time, patience, courage from both of you.

But as Jungwon's fingers tentatively interlaced with yours, you felt something you hadn't experienced in a very long time: hope.

Not the desperate hope that had led you to mark passages in poetry books, dreaming of connection. But a quieter, stronger hope built on the foundation of truth finally spoken, of walls finally breached.

A beginning, at last, after a year of beautiful emptiness.

The transformation didn't happen overnight. Real change never does. But it began with small, deliberate steps—each one a silent promise, a brick in the foundation of what you both hoped would become something genuine and lasting.

The first week was tentative, both of you navigating an unfamiliar landscape of honesty. You moved back into the master bedroom, but Jungwon slept on the chaise lounge across the room, respecting your need for physical space while closing the emotional distance. Each night, you talked—sometimes for hours—about everything and nothing. Your childhoods. Your dreams. The books that had shaped you. The places you longed to visit.

"I never knew you wanted to see Greece so badly," Jungwon said one evening, sitting cross-legged on the chaise, looking younger and more relaxed than you'd ever seen him. "We could go. Whenever you want."

"It's not just about going," you explained, hugging your knees to your chest as you sat against the headboard. "It's about going somewhere simply because we want to, not because it's expected or beneficial to the family business."

He nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "A trip just for us. No schedules, no business meetings disguised as vacations..."

"Exactly."

Two days later, you found a travel guide to the Greek islands on your pillow, with a note in Jungwon's precise handwriting: Pick the places that call to you. No expectations. No time limit. Just us.

The second week brought the first real test. Mrs. Yang arrived unannounced, sweeping into the foyer with the authority of someone who had never been denied entry.

"I've heard disturbing reports," she announced, eyeing the wildflower arrangements with thinly veiled distaste. "The garden completely rearranged. Appointments canceled. Your father says you're not taking his calls. And now this..." She gestured to the informality of the house, the books scattered on surfaces, the general disruption of the perfect order she'd helped establish.

In the past, Jungwon would have immediately adjusted his behavior to appease her. You braced yourself for his retreat back into the perfect son role.

Instead, he surprised you.

"Mother," he said calmly, "we're in the middle of some changes here. I should have called to tell you it's not a good time for a visit."

Her eyes widened. "Not a good time? Since when do I need an appointment to visit my own son's home?"

"Since now," Jungwon replied, his voice gentle but firm. "We're working on our marriage, and we need space to do that properly."

Mrs. Yang turned to you, expecting you to be the reasonable one, to smooth over this unprecedented friction. "Surely you understand that family obligations—"

"Are important," you finished for her, "but not more important than our relationship. Jungwon and I are learning to put each other first."

Her mouth opened and closed, momentarily speechless. "This is your influence," she finally said to you, her voice sharp. "My son has never been so disrespectful."

You felt Jungwon tense beside you, but before he could speak, you placed your hand on his arm. A silent communication—I've got this.

"It's not disrespect to establish healthy boundaries," you said, maintaining a respectful tone despite the accusation. "We both value you and Mr. Yang, but we're building something here that needs protection and care."

Mrs. Yang looked between the two of you, noting the united front, the way Jungwon stood slightly closer to you than necessary, the casual intimacy of your hand on his arm. Something in her calculation shifted.

"I see," she said finally. "Well. Call when you're ready to rejoin society. The foundation gala is in three weeks, and people will talk if you're absent."

"Let them talk," Jungwon said simply.

After she left, you turned to Jungwon, studying his face for signs of regret or anger. Instead, you found him looking almost relieved.

"That was the first time I've ever said no to her," he confessed with a shaky laugh. "It feels... terrifying. And right."

You squeezed his hand. "You were perfect."

"Not perfect," he corrected. "Real. There's a difference."

By the third week, physical barriers began to dissolve. Jungwon moved from the chaise to the bed, though always maintaining a careful distance. But one night, half-asleep and cold from the air conditioning, you instinctively shifted closer to his warmth. Without fully waking, he draped an arm over you, pulling you against him with a contented sigh.

You froze, suddenly wide awake, your heart racing at the casual intimacy. His breathing remained deep and even, clearly still asleep. Slowly, you relaxed into the embrace, allowing yourself to feel the solidity of him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth that radiated through his thin t-shirt.

It was the first time you'd slept in each other's arms. In the morning, when you both woke to find yourselves entangled, there was a moment of awkward uncertainty before Jungwon smiled—a genuine, unguarded smile that transformed his face.

"Good morning," he said softly, making no move to pull away.

"Good morning," you replied, marveling at how natural it felt to be here, in this moment, with him.

That day, the staff noticed the shift between you—the lingering glances, the casual touches as you passed each other, the private smiles. The mansion seemed to exhale, as if the building itself had been holding its breath, waiting for life to finally fill its rooms.

A month after your return, Jungwon came to you with a proposal.

"I've been thinking about the house," he said over breakfast, which you now took together every morning before he left for work. His schedule had been completely reorganized, with strict boundaries between work and home time. "It's beautiful, but it's never felt like ours. It's been my family's vision of what our home should be."

You nodded, understanding immediately. "It's always felt like living in a museum."

"Exactly." He pushed a folder across the table. "What would you think about this?"

Inside were architectural plans for a new house—smaller, more intimate, designed around shared spaces and natural light.

"You want to move?" you asked, surprised.

"I want us to build something that belongs to us," he clarified. "Something that reflects who we are together, not who everyone expects us to be."

You studied the plans more carefully, noting the library with two desks facing each other, the open kitchen designed for cooking together, the master bedroom with windows that would catch the sunrise.

"There's room for a nursery," you observed quietly, looking up to gauge his reaction.

His eyes softened. "I thought... someday... if we decided..." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I want children with you. Not for the Yang legacy, but because I can't imagine anything more beautiful than creating a family with you. But only when we're ready. Only when our foundation is solid."

You reached across the table, taking his hand. "I'd like that. Someday."

He squeezed your fingers, a simple gesture that had become precious in its newfound ease. "So, the house?"

"Yes," you decided. "Let's build something that's truly ours."

Two months into your new beginning, you attended your first social event as a changed couple. The charity auction—ironically, the same type of event where you'd played your roles so convincingly before—now became the stage for your authentic selves.

When you entered on Jungwon's arm, the subtle changes were immediately apparent to the careful observers of high society. The way his hand rested at the small of your back—not for show, but because he liked the connection to you. How he kept you within his sight even during separate conversations. The private smiles you exchanged across the room, small moments of complicity in the public setting.

Mrs. Singh approached you during a lull in the evening. "There's something different about you two," she observed shrewdly. "You seem... happier."

You smiled, watching Jungwon across the room. He was engaged in conversation but looked up at that exact moment, as if sensing your gaze, and smiled back with undisguised affection.

"We are," you replied simply.

Later, when the dancing began, Jungwon led you to the floor. Unlike the choreographed movements you'd performed at countless events before, this time he held you closer, his cheek occasionally brushing against your temple, his hand warm and secure against yours.

"Everyone's watching us," you murmured, feeling the weight of curious eyes.

"Let them," he replied, his lips close to your ear. "Maybe they'll learn something."

The evening continued, but unlike before, you weren't simply playing a part. The genuine connection between you was unmistakable, and as the night progressed, you felt something shift in the atmosphere around you. The calculated social maneuvering gave way to something more genuine, as if your authenticity had granted others permission to drop their own facades, if only slightly.

When you returned home that night, the tension that had always accompanied these performances was absent. Instead, there was a shared sense of accomplishment, of having navigated the social waters together without losing yourselves in the process.

"That wasn't so bad," Jungwon admitted as you both prepared for bed. "Being real in public."

"It was actually nice," you agreed, sitting at your vanity to remove your jewelry. "Though I think your mother nearly fainted when you declined the board seat Mr. Lee offered."

Jungwon laughed, the sound still new enough to delight you. "The old me would have accepted immediately, even though we both know it would have meant even less time at home." He moved behind you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "I have different priorities now."

He reached for the clasp of your necklace, his fingers brushing against your skin as he helped you remove it. The simple intimacy of the gesture—one that might have seemed ordinary in most marriages but was revolutionary in yours—made your breath catch.

When he finished, his hands remained on your shoulders, thumbs gently caressing the exposed skin above your dress. Your eyes met in the mirror, and the desire you saw there—no longer hidden or denied—sent heat cascading through you.

"May I kiss you?" he asked softly.

It wasn't your first kiss since the reconciliation—there had been gentle pecks, cautious explorations—but something about this moment felt different. More significant.

You turned to face him, rising from the vanity bench. "Yes."

He cupped your face with reverent hands, studying you as if committing every detail to memory, before leaning in slowly. The kiss began gentle but deepened as months of carefully banked desire kindled between you. His arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer until you could feel the rapid beating of his heart against yours.

When you finally separated, both breathless, Jungwon rested his forehead against yours. "I love you," he whispered, the words no longer strange or difficult but natural, necessary.

"I love you too," you replied, the truth of it filling every part of you.

That night, for the first time, you truly became husband and wife—not through social obligation or family expectation, but through choice. Through desire. Through love that had fought its way past barriers of conditioning and fear to find expression at last.

Six months after your confrontation, the new house was completed. It stood on a hillside overlooking the city, modern in design but warm in execution, with natural materials and spaces designed for living rather than showcasing wealth.

The move was symbolic in more ways than one—leaving behind the mansion with its rigid expectations and cold perfection, stepping into a home created specifically for the life you were building together.

On your first night there, after the movers had gone and the essentials were unpacked, Jungwon opened a bottle of champagne, pouring two glasses as you both stood in the expansive living room, floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the city lights spread below.

"To new beginnings," he said, raising his glass.

"To us," you added, clinking your glass against his.

After you both drank, he set his glass aside and reached for your hand, his expression turning serious.

"I want to ask you something," he said, leading you to the sofa. When you were both seated, he took both your hands in his. "This past year—these six months especially—have been the most transformative of my life. I feel like I'm finally becoming the person I was meant to be, not the perfect heir my father designed."

You squeezed his hands encouragingly. "I'm proud of you. The changes you've made, the boundaries you've set—none of it has been easy."

"It's been worth it," he said simply. "And I want to keep growing, keep becoming better. With you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "Which is why I want to ask you to marry me. Again. For real this time."

He opened the box to reveal a ring nothing like the elaborate diamond he'd given you during your engagement. This one was simpler, more personal—a band of intertwined gold and platinum with a small sapphire that matched the color of your favorite flowers.

"Our first marriage was arranged for us," he continued. "I want this one to be chosen by us. No families planning, no strategic alliances, just two people who love each other deciding to build a life together."

Tears filled your eyes, but unlike the lonely tears you'd shed in that first year, these were born of joy, of wonder at how far you'd both come.

"Yes," you whispered, watching as he slipped the ring onto your finger, alongside the formal engagement diamond you still wore. The contrast between them—one chosen for appearance, one chosen for meaning—perfectly symbolized your journey.

"I thought we could have a small ceremony," Jungwon said, pulling you close. "Just us and a few people who truly care about our happiness. On that Greek island you've been reading about."

You laughed through your tears. "Your mother would never forgive us."

"She'll survive," he said with a smile. "This isn't about the Yang family or social connections or business advantages. It's about you and me, choosing each other. Every day. For the rest of our lives."

As you kissed to seal this new promise, you marveled at the journey that had brought you here—from empty performance to authentic partnership, from silent longing to expressed love, from arranged marriage to chosen commitment.

The road hadn't been smooth. There had been setbacks, moments when old patterns threatened to reassert themselves. There would be more challenges ahead, more work to maintain the vulnerability and honesty you'd fought so hard to establish.

But looking into Jungwon's eyes—eyes that now held nothing back from you—you knew with absolute certainty that the difficult path was worth it. That true connection, once found, was worth fighting for. That love, real love, could grow even from the most barren beginnings, if only given the chance to breathe.

The most shocking transformation in your renewed marriage wasn’t the tenderness.

It was the hunger.

Jungwon, who used to sleep with a polite space between your bodies, now touched you like he couldn’t bear even a millimeter of distance.

The man who once bowed his head before kissing your hand now dropped to his knees and begged to taste you.

It was as if years of restraint had finally snapped—like some tight, internal knot had come undone—and he was feral from the release.

The first night you truly became intimate, you realized just how much he’d been suppressing.

His hands, once always tucked in his lap, now gripped your thighs like a lifeline, dragged you down onto the sheets with a growl. He shook when he touched you, but not from nerves—from sheer fucking relief.

His mouth, which had always only spoken in formal tones and quiet dinner conversation, now whispered against your skin—

“I’ve dreamed of spreading your legs and living between them.”

You gasped. He kissed lower. His breath hot between your thighs.

“Every night beside you, pretending I didn’t hear how you breathed heavier when I got too close. I wanted to fuck you so bad I used to take cold showers just to stop myself from humping the fucking mattress.”

You were already soaked, trembling.

You cupped his face, forced him to look up. “You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

His pupils were blown wide. He licked his lips, nodding.

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

He broke.

He devoured your pussy like it owed him rent. Like it was his first and last meal.

No teasing. No patience. Just his tongue, buried deep, moaning into you like your taste was the only thing that ever made him lose his composure.

You came once on his mouth—fast and loud—and he didn’t even let up.

“Again,” he groaned, “fuck, again, I want to feel you fall apart.”

And when he finally hovered over you, flushed and trembling and naked between your legs?

“Tell me,” he whispered, cock dragging through your soaked folds, “tell me what you want. What you’ve been aching for. Let me ruin you the way I’ve dreamed about.”

So you did.

You told him all of it. The fantasies. The positions. The filthy little things you’d only ever written down in notebook margins when he was still cold and distant.

And Jungwon?

Did. Not. Flinch.

He nodded, breath shaking, and said—

“You want to be face down? Crying? Begging? I’ll give it to you. Just know when I start, I won’t stop until you’re fucked stupid.”

And he meant it.

He took you face down on the mattress, hips locked in place by his grip, his cock slamming into you so deep you saw stars. He growled things you’d never imagined him saying—

“This pussy’s mine. All fucking mine. You think I don’t know how wet you get when I talk like this?”

“Look at you—slutty little wife, dripping down your thighs like you’ve been waiting to be treated like a whore.”

“How many times you make yourself cum thinking about me breaking like this, huh?”

You choked on your moans. You were sobbing by the time he made you cum again, legs shaking, jaw slack, vision blurry.

He kissed your spine afterward. Slowly. Tenderly. Like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides.

Pulled you into his arms and whispered, “I used to leave the room when I got too hard just looking at you. I thought wanting you like this made me weak. My father always said a Yang man should control his urges.”

He paused. Smiled against your neck.

“I’ve never been so happy to disappoint him.”

In the weeks that followed your first night together, the shift between you became impossible to ignore. And impossible to contain.

Jungwon couldn’t stop touching you.

He didn’t even try. His hand found yours under the breakfast table.

His palm slid across your lower back when you walked past him in the hallway—lingering there, possessive.

He stole kisses while you were brushing your teeth, while you answered the door, while you loaded the washing machine.

It was as if his body was always reaching, always chasing, making up for a year of self-denial all at once.

You gave in to him every time.

One afternoon, he came home early from the office to find you kneeling in the garden, soil smudged on your knees, digging holes for the last peony bush you’d saved from the mansion.

You didn’t hear him approach.

But you felt it—the change in the air. The heat behind you. The sound of breath catching.

Hands on your waist. A sharp inhale. And a low, devastating voice.

“That’s what I come home to?”

You turned your head, startled—and then flushed under the weight of his gaze.

He was already unbuttoning his sleeves.

Already breathing too hard.

“Jungwon—”

He hauled you to your feet. Didn’t flinch at the dirt. Didn’t care about the sunlight.

Just gripped your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you like you’d been killing him in his dreams. You gasped against his mouth, hands braced on his chest, heart pounding.

“What was that for?”

His eyes were black with need. He didn’t let you go.

“Because I can,” he said. “Because I spent a year not touching you. Not letting myself want you. Not letting myself want to bend you over every surface in our house.”

You trembled.

He pulled you closer.

“I refuse to waste another fucking day.”

The peonies were forgotten.

He dragged you inside, dirt on your hands, sweat beading on your spine—and kissed you again against the door.

His jacket hit the floor first. Then yours.

Then his belt, as he backed you into the living room like a man possessed.

When your knees hit the rug, he dropped with you.

Didn’t even bother removing your clothes properly—just shoved your dress up and pulled your underwear down like it offended him.

“Here,” he growled, palming your ass as he pressed you forward onto all fours. “Here on the floor, where I can see every inch of you. Where I can fuck you raw and you can scream for me.”

You moaned, breath hitched.

“God, I wanted to do this the first night I married you. I wanted to wreck you. I wanted to see what sounds you’d make with my cock in you.”

You were dripping by the time he pushed inside.

No teasing. No patience. Just one smooth thrust that made you cry out, already clenching.

“So fucking tight,” he hissed. “So wet and hot and mine.”

He fucked you hard, fast, hips slapping against your ass as your moans echoed through the empty house.

You didn’t care. You let him take everything.

He gripped your hips, pulled you back onto him harder, chasing your high like he’d been dying for it. You came shaking on him, and he groaned, low and broken, before following with a curse buried into your shoulder.

You collapsed to the rug in a tangled heap, both of you breathless, glowing in the afternoon sun. Later, still half-naked, your cheek resting on the rug, he lay beside you—head on your stomach, smiling like a teenager.

“My father would be appalled,” he murmured. “The Yang heir behaving like this. Desperate. Loud. Fucking his wife on the floor.”

You laughed, running your fingers through his sweat-damp hair.

“And what do you think?”

He tilted his head. Kissed your bare hip, then lower.

Then smiled.

“I think we should do it again in the kitchen.”

A pause.

“Then the stairs. Then the study. Then maybe the floor again.”

You didn’t even get a chance to answer. Because his hand was already sliding between your legs again.

What amazed you most was his attentiveness. Jungwon, who had once seemed completely disconnected from physical needs, now anticipated yours with an almost uncanny perception. He noticed when tension gathered in your shoulders and appeared with warm hands to massage it away. He registered which touches made your breath catch and revisited them with deliberate intent. He cataloged every sensitive spot, every preference, every response with the same meticulous attention he'd once reserved for business reports.

"How did you know?" you asked one evening when he drew you a bath exactly when you needed it, complete with the lavender oil you preferred when tired.

"Your left eyebrow tenses slightly when you're exhausted," he explained, kneeling beside the tub to wash your back with gentle hands. "And you roll your shoulders every few minutes. Plus, you've been on your feet all day with the interior decorator."

The fact that he noticed such small details—that he paid such close attention to your physical comfort—moved you deeply. This wasn't just passion; it was care, consideration, genuine desire for your wellbeing.

One night, as you lay tangled together in the afterglow of particularly intense lovemaking, Jungwon traced patterns on your back with his fingertips, his expression thoughtful.

"I used to think that needing someone physically was a weakness," he confessed. "That it gave them power over you. My father warned me about it—how desire could cloud judgment, make a man vulnerable."

"And now?" you prompted, propping yourself up to look at him.

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features in a way that still took your breath away. "Now I think vulnerability is its own kind of strength. The courage to need someone, to show them exactly how much you want them..." He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I've never felt stronger than when I'm completely undone in your arms."

The physical transformation in your marriage rippled outward, affecting every aspect of your lives together. Jungwon, once rigid in his schedules and plans, now embraced spontaneity. He would cancel meetings to spend the day in bed with you, laughing as you expressed shock at his newfound willingness to prioritize pleasure over work.

"The company won't collapse if I take a day off," he said, pulling you back under the covers when you suggested he shouldn't neglect his responsibilities. "And this—" he kissed you deeply "—is a responsibility too. To us. To what we're building."

Even in public, the change was evident to anyone with eyes to see. Though still mindful of appropriate boundaries, Jungwon couldn't seem to stop himself from small touches—his hand at the small of your back, his fingers laced with yours, the way he would occasionally lean down to whisper something in your ear that made heat rise to your cheeks.

At a corporate gala, Mrs. Yang cornered you by the refreshment table, her eyes narrowed in disapproval. "Your husband's behavior has become rather... demonstrative lately," she observed acidly. "It's unseemly for a man of his position to be so openly affectionate."

You smiled, watching Jungwon across the room as he spoke with investors. Even engaged in business conversation, his eyes sought you out regularly, as if making sure you were still there, still his.

"I disagree," you replied calmly. "I think it shows remarkable strength for a man to be secure enough in himself to express his feelings openly."

Your mother-in-law's lips thinned, but before she could respond, Jungwon appeared at your side, his hand automatically finding yours.

"Mother," he greeted her with polite warmth. "I see you've found my wife. I hope you'll excuse us—this is our song."

There was no song playing that held any special meaning, but Mrs. Yang couldn't know that. With a small bow, Jungwon led you to the dance floor, pulling you closer than was strictly proper for such a formal event.

"Rescued you," he murmured against your ear, his breath sending delicious shivers down your spine.

"My hero," you teased, relaxing into his embrace. "Though your mother might never recover from the shock of seeing the Yang heir so besotted with his own wife."

"Let her adjust," he replied, his hand splayed possessively against your lower back. "This is who I am now. Who we are together."

Later that night, he touched you like he’d been holding it in all day—like the hours of careful, public restraint had coiled inside him, pressing tight under his skin, begging for release.

Now, with you spread beneath him in your shared bed, every breath he took seemed heavy with need.

His thrusts were deep, deliberate, dragging moans from your throat with each slow roll of his hips.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t look away. He studied you.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, watching every flicker of expression, every twitch, every gasp, like he wanted to memorize the exact second you shattered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, voice low, tight, lips brushing the corner of your mouth.

You blinked up at him, dazed, overwhelmed. “That I hardly recognize you sometimes.”

His rhythm stuttered—hips faltering, jaw tensing.

His brows drew together. “Is that… disappointing?”

You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped you. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist and pulled him closer, arching up to meet him.

“No. Quite the opposite.”

Your fingers slid into his hair, your voice thick with wonder and arousal.

“I’m amazed that all of this—”

Your hands trailed down his chest, to where your bodies met, to the heat and slick and stretch between your legs,

“—was hidden inside that perfect, restrained man.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by a crooked, mischievous smile—so at odds with the version of him you’d once known that it sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through you.

“I have years of self-control to make up for,” he said, lowering his mouth to your throat, his voice a warm rasp against your skin. “You don’t think I’ve imagined this? Every night. Every day. Watching you walk around like you didn’t know how badly I wanted to fuck you into the mattress?”

You whimpered, breath catching.

“You think I didn’t notice how soft your thighs looked in those dresses? Or how your voice changed when you said my name?”

His tongue flicked over a sensitive spot just below your ear, and your back arched without thinking.

“I used to jerk off in the shower,” he whispered, filthy now, “biting my lip so you wouldn’t hear. Palming my cock like a coward while I imagined you moaning for me just like this.”

You gasped as he pinned your wrists above your head, not rough, just firm—controlling, possessive. His other hand slid between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with devastating precision.

“You’re mine now,” he said against your collarbone. “I don’t have to hide it anymore. Don’t have to pretend I don’t want you crying and shaking under me every night.”

The need in his voice made your toes curl.

“I don’t think anyone could be prepared for this version of you,” you managed to gasp, hips bucking as his thumb pressed harder.

He chuckled darkly. “Good. I like catching you off guard.”

Then his lips ghosted over your pulse, and he murmured:

“I like knowing no one else gets to see you like this. Just me. The mess. The begging. The way you moan when I hit you right there.”

His hips snapped, and your whole body trembled.

“I like owning this version of you. The version that melts under me. That asks for more even when I’m already inside.”

The sheer possessiveness in his voice—raw and reverent—nearly undid you.

Your whole body clenched, eyes wide, breath gone. “Only you,” you whispered, completely wrecked. “Always you.”

He kissed you then. Deep. Unrelenting.

And when you came again, shaking apart in his arms, you knew:

You’d never seen the real Jungwon before this.

Afterward, as you drifted toward sleep in his arms, you reflected on the journey that had brought you here. From polite strangers sharing a bed without touching, to lovers who couldn't bear even the smallest distance between them. From a marriage of appearance to a union of body, heart, and soul.

Jungwon's arm tightened around you, even in his sleep unwilling to let you go. The man who had once feared needing someone now embraced that need without reservation, transforming what he'd been taught was weakness into his greatest strength.

As you snuggled closer to his warmth, you silently thanked whatever courage had prompted you to finally break the silence between you, to demand more than the empty performance your marriage had been. The risk had been terrifying, but the reward—this man who loved you without restraint, who showed that love in every look and touch and whispered word—was beyond anything you could have imagined.

Epilogue: Aegean Dreams

The light breeze carried the scent of salt and wild herbs through the open French doors of your villa, perched on the cliffs of Santorini. Dawn had just begun to paint the horizon in shades of gold and rose, the Aegean Sea below reflecting the spectacle like a mirror. You stood on the private terrace, wrapped in a silk robe, drinking in the view that had once been nothing more than a wistful note in a travel book margin.

Warm arms encircled you from behind, and Jungwon's lips found the curve where your neck met your shoulder.

"I woke up and you were gone," he murmured against your skin. "For a second, I panicked."

You turned in his embrace, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. No product kept it in place here—just like no tailored suits or carefully crafted personas had made the journey to this small Greek paradise.

"Just wanted to see the sunrise," you explained, smiling at the vulnerability he no longer tried to hide. "Old habits. Though I'm not used to you noticing when I slip out of bed."

"I notice everything about you now," he said, tightening his hold. "Especially when your warmth disappears from beside me."

Two years had passed since that fateful anniversary night when everything had broken open between you. Two years of learning each other, rebuilding trust, discovering what it meant to truly choose one another every day. The small, intimate wedding you'd held on this very island six months ago had merely formalized what your hearts had already decided.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jungwon asked, noticing your contemplative expression.

"I was just thinking about that travel book," you said, leaning into him. "The one where I marked all those Greek islands, never believing I'd actually see them."

"And now you've seen five of them in three weeks," he replied with a smile. "With three more to go before we have to think about heading back."

The itinerary for this trip had been deliberately open-ended—a luxury neither of you had ever permitted yourselves before. No business calls, no social obligations, not even a fixed return date. Just the two of you moving at your own pace through the islands you'd dreamed of.

"Remember that cove I mentioned in my notes?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye. "The one where 'no one would expect Mrs. Yang to swim naked'?"

"How could I forget?" Jungwon's voice dropped lower, his hands sliding down to your waist. "It's circled on the map in our bedroom. I've been wondering when you'd bring it up."

"The boat captain said he could take us there this afternoon. Completely private, accessible only by sea."

His eyes darkened with desire—a look that still thrilled you, even after months of uninhibited passion. "I'll tell him we'll double his fee if he drops us off and doesn't return until sunset."

You laughed, stretching up to kiss him. "Always the efficient businessman."

"Only when efficiency serves pleasure," he countered, deepening the kiss until you were both breathless.

When you finally pulled apart, the sun had fully crested the horizon, bathing the white-washed villa in golden light. Jungwon led you to the small table on the terrace where he'd already set up breakfast—fresh fruit, local yogurt, honey, and coffee prepared exactly the way you liked it.

"I have something for you," he said, reaching into the pocket of his linen pants as you both sat down.

He placed a small package wrapped in simple brown paper on the table between you. His expression held an endearing mix of anticipation and nervousness that reminded you how far he'd come from the controlled, emotionless man you'd married.

"What's this for?" you asked, picking up the package. "It's not my birthday or our anniversary."

"Do I need a reason to give my wife a gift?" he countered with a smile. "Open it."

You carefully unwrapped the paper to find a leather-bound journal, its cover soft and supple. When you opened it, you discovered it was filled with poems—some typed, others handwritten in Jungwon's precise script.

"I've been collecting them," he explained, watching your face closely. "Every poem that made me think of you. The ones that helped me understand what I was feeling when I didn't have the words myself."

You turned the pages, eyes widening as you recognized some of the poems you'd once secretly marked in your books, now preserved in this new collection. But there were others you didn't recognize—contemporary pieces, older classics, even what appeared to be original works.

"Did you... write some of these?" you asked, looking up in surprise.

A flush crept up his neck—the unguarded reaction still so different from the controlled man he'd once been. "I tried. They're probably terrible, but..." He shrugged, a gesture of vulnerability that would have been unthinkable in the old Jungwon. "I wanted to find a way to tell you what you mean to me that wasn't borrowed from someone else's words."

You found one of his original poems, dated from the early days of your reconciliation:

I lived behind walls so high

Even I forgot what lay inside

Until your voice broke through

And light flooded places

I had kept dark for so long

I had forgotten they could shine

Tears pricked your eyes as you continued reading. The progression of the poems—from hesitant early attempts to more recent, confident expressions—mirrored the journey of your relationship.

"This is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me," you said finally, closing the journal and holding it against your heart.

"There's one more thing," Jungwon said, reaching across the table to take your hand. "I've been thinking about what you said last week, about not being ready to go back to real life yet."

"I was just being silly," you assured him, though the thought of returning to schedules and obligations did fill you with a certain dread. "We can't stay on vacation forever."

"Why not?" He smiled at your startled expression. "Not forever, but... longer. I've been working on something." He pulled out his phone—rarely used during the trip except for taking photos—and showed you a property listing. "It's a small villa on Paros. Nothing extravagant, but it has a garden for you and a study for me with a decent internet connection."

"You want to buy a house here?" you asked, stunned.

"I want us to have a place that's just ours. Not tied to the Yang name or business or social expectations." His eyes held yours, serious despite his smile. "A place where we can come whenever we need to breathe. Where no one expects anything from us except being ourselves."

"But your work—"

"Can be managed remotely for extended periods," he interrupted gently. "I've been talking with the board about restructuring my role. Less day-to-day management, more strategic direction. It would mean fewer hours, more flexibility."

You stared at him, processing the magnitude of what he was suggesting. The old Jungwon would never have considered stepping back from his corporate responsibilities, would never have prioritized personal happiness over professional ambition.

"What about your father?" you asked, knowing that Mr. Yang would view such a move as a betrayal of family duty.

"He'll adapt," Jungwon said with surprising calm. "Or he won't. Either way, I'm not living my life to meet his expectations anymore." He squeezed your hand. "What do you think? Not about him—about the villa."

You looked out at the endless blue of the Aegean, then back at the man who had transformed himself for love of you—who continued to transform, to grow, to choose your shared happiness over prescribed obligation.

"I think," you said slowly, a smile spreading across your face, "that I'd like to plant bougainvillea along that terrace wall in the photos."

His answering smile was radiant. "Is that a yes?"

Instead of answering with words, you stood and moved around the table, settling onto his lap. His arms came around you automatically, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in his world—which, you knew now, you were.

"It's a 'you make me happier than I ever thought possible,'" you said, framing his face with your hands. "It's a 'I love the life we're building together.'"

"Even if it scandalizes my mother?" he asked, laughter in his eyes.

"Especially then," you replied, leaning in to kiss him as the Greek sun climbed higher in the sky, warming your skin, illuminating the future stretching before you—unplanned, unprescribed, and gloriously your own.

Behind you, the pages of the poetry journal fluttered in the sea breeze, open to the last entry, written in Jungwon's hand just days before:

Once I thought perfection meant control

Now I know it's the moment you laugh

Head thrown back, eyes dancing

Completely unguarded in my arms

The sound of your happiness echoing

Through rooms once filled with silence

This is the music I want to hear

For all my remaining days

fin.

TL: @addictedtohobi @azzy02 @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @zzhengyu @somuchdard @annybah @ddolleri @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3 @jakewonist

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rikidaze

4 months ago

ㅤㅤㅤㅤꢾ꣒ SUPER SHY

𝓲⠀ ⦂ jake has lived a couple of very embarrassing moments in his life. but breaking your phone while trying to ask you out, might climb in the top three— he had a crush on your for months !

genre ㅤ⸝ university au, strangers to lovers, longtime crush, fluff and humor, tiniest bit of angst if you squint really hard, oblivious!reader.

warnings 𓈒𓈒 female reader, cursing, kms / kys jokes, kissing, mention of drinking + more to be added (if needed)

taglist. send an ask or comment on this post to be added.

jake’s unsafe space | pw&gmw

OO1. so eager daddy jay

OO2. true omega male

OO3. yes encourage me mama please

OO4. i think she is a Picture

OO5. scratches back of head

OO6. and that’s when i froze

OO7. alr ur getting it

OO8. i nuh huh’d this post

OO9.

O1O.

. . . more to be added

⠀（ ੭୧ ）⠀bringing back super shy this summer after completing stan twitter ^^ since i will be in vacations the following two weeks and i don’t want to be too absent ! if you were in the old taglist, don’t forget to join this is one as well if you’d like ><

Tags

enhypen jake enhypen smau rikidaze.cr

666 notes View Post

rikidaze

9 months ago

[ 니키 ] LOVE DIVE ꒰ N.RK x F!READER

IN WHICH ?! — Y/n often flirts and teases one of her mc partners, nishimura ni-ki (riki). She is taken back when he flirts back while they’re interviewing IVE for their new release, ‘LOVE DIVE’.

genre . . . smau, fluff, friends to lovers, idol!ni-ki, idol!reader pairing … idol!riki x idol!fem!reader

warnings … swearing, my horrible humor, ill occasionally use photos of other idols for y/n, for example shuhua, seulgi + more. photos of hyuna and dawn will be used for ynki posts! oblivious ynki!

featuring … IVE, keeho & jiung of P1HARMONY, sullyoon of NMIXX, yunjin & kazuha of LE SSERAFIM, gp999 contestants, emma song of dance crew WANT, vernon of SEVENTEEN

release date … 05.15.22(og date)

status … completed : 06.30.22

taglist (CLOSED) … @iulrma @jangwonie @i-dubu @strwberrydinosaur

a/n … it was actually so hard trynna find inkigayo clips, so for my sake just pretend ‘the show!’ is on sundays 😭 + this was originally on my old account but i’ve decided to continue it! so for now i’m gonna re post all the other chapters and continue it on here! + pls ignore how the banner says aerzkii (my old account) instead of tzyuki, i was too lazy to change it

## PROFILES !! — ACEIZ 🃏… ENHYPEN 🎸 … IVE 🍿 … FRENS 💌 …

001. no time for flirting | written

002. battle of the maknaes

003. the only ten i see

004. f the scandal!

005. sweetest pie

006. attention, please! | written

007. on the main

008. kpop world

009. manager minah deserves a raise

010. KEEHOE?

011. vernon agenda

012. open your eyes

013. YNKI?? REAL?? i wish

014. lovestuck

015. YNNI tracklist

016. blink blink

017. 4eva

018. florida girl

019. keeynki deprived | written

020. the taste of honey outsold

021. crush!

022. border : day one

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rikidaze

5 months ago

⊹ ˚🎄 ! ╱ BAD REVIEW ౨ৎ yang jungwon

⠀⠀⠀› 003 , your ex watches my yt videos

PREVIOUSLY | MASTERLIST | NEXT

❄️ ⌗ SYNOPSIS ꒱ ⠀anyone could tell you that getting scheduled to work on christmas day is terrible. after all, nobody wants to work during holiday season—the customers are awful and the repetitive music makes you want to rip your hair out. then, some random guy your age orders a sundae that causes you to gag while you put the order in, just for him to rate your grandfather’s restaurant a 2.5/10 stars on twitter. if there’s anything you hate more than working holidays, it’s influencers who cause trouble just for views.

📓 ⌗ GENRE ꒱⠀papa’s scooperia!au, social media!au, holiday themed, strangers-to-lovers, fluff, comedy (pls laugh!!!!)

🎐 ⌗ TAGLIST ꒱⠀@tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiamini @getoxo @vmpivory @vixialuvs @would-bee @cupiddolle | (open: comment, send an ask, or apply here to join!!)

🕊️ ⌗ AUTHOR’S NOTE ꒱⠀i’m so sorry for the long chapter but i feel like it makes sense…idk anyway! hope you enjoyed!