palajae

[palajae]

me every time i open my laptop and realise a series or fic doesn't write itself:

[palajae]

I MISSED YOU JAE i hope school is going for you ^^

ME2222

just finished actually and just doing a research internship/shadowing!! wbu 😚

[palajae]

than ever! | nrk.

PAIRING... rich kid! riki x reader | GENRE... angst, romance, fluff | WC... 3.9k | warnings... curse words, not proofread | listening to happier than ever by billie eilish :)

may 2025. 

your practiced smile meets the bajillion flashes of the cameras, screams by love struck fans, and questions from the nosy reporters. yet all you could focus on was the cold, firm hand placed perfectly at the small of your back. 

your husband and you make the picture perfect couple. an ideal appearance for your second year anniversary—you yourself cannot believe how much time has passed. 

how you ever managed to make it this far, this long—it’s almost unbelievable. 

“what are the lovely couple’s plans after the gala?”

your smile falters just a smidge. probably not even perceptible from any outsider’s perspective.  

plans?

ha, says who? 

your plan—from the start—was to remain the ideal wife. appear at every public appearance with your husband, by his side, just like this one sponsored by his parents. 

and obviously, pretend that you’re happier than ever. every damn time. you laugh softly, smile as bright as the extravagant lights and decor all around you.

the car ride home is silent, as per usual. it’s not like the atmosphere is cold—your driver eyes the both of you through the rear view window—it’s simply dead. 

your hand fiddles with the pearl earring on your left ear. mentally, you review your plans for tomorrow. another photoshoot, another interview. once upon a time, you only could’ve imagined a life like this. 

what would your parents say? seeing you like this? they gave you away happily, as happy as you tried to seem in front of them. 

you feel his eyes on you. it makes you shudder. for a split second, you allow your eyes to flicker over to the body sitting next to you.

you can’t even hate your own husband—you can only feel absolutely fucking nothing towards him now. 

his family was one of the most prominent ones in the entertainment industry. and their successor son was the golden child. 

you could only dream of the past, the what-ifs and all the warm nostalgia. how your life could have been so different. if you didn’t succumb to fame and success. would your life be utterly different? like back then?

with him? 

all your memories contained him smiling, running, fighting, and sweating. he was human—able to love and be loved. so, completely different from the man you married. his flawlessly styled hair and porcelain skin piss you off.

maybe you were too late. grew your power and status, rising to the top of the modeling industry a little too late. if only you got to him, found him, a little bit earlier. 

the car comes to a halt. you simply blinked, and suddenly you made it back. it was an unintentional skill you had developed to make the car rides back quicker. you open the door for yourself, automatically walking out. 

you can hear his footsteps follow you, the click of his shoes cause you to frown. your husband is following you, yet you want the distance to grow. 

you walk faster, only stopping when you hear the pace of his footsteps quicken. your lip curls up in disgust. so, you whip around, crossing your arms with an emotionless expression on your face. you can’t believe you’re wasting your breath again.

“don’t. you embarrass me.”

his eyes are unreadable. “you left your purse in the car.” 

your eyes narrow at his grip on the delicate strap. an expensive purse ruined by such a simple action. it almost hurt you like it used to. 

you look him dead in the eye when you say, “everything good i have is ruined by you.”

you mean it. 

with that, you turn and walk the paved path into your house. with him, you could never call it a home. he made you hate this city. you once thought your husband could be your everything. now it all makes you fucking sick. 

unlike before, you’re happier than ever to be apart from him, while you can only dream of the one that got away. 

there’s only one rags-to-riches, real life cinderella, story. and it’s yours.

your humble background is what allowed you to become so successful—to be named the “it-girl” of the nation. it allowed you to meet and marry the perfect man. your life now is what others dream of, what people talk about on the internet and what fans obsess over. 

looking back, would you do it all over again? 

august 2017. 

you wipe the sweat off your forehead as you clean the table with one final sweep of the rag. you hear the whistle blowing from the field across your family’s small store. 

was it time already? 

growing up next to the most prestigious academy in the nation came with its pros and cons. 

pro: the rich kids stopped by. 

cons: the rich kids stopped by. 

but business was business, after all. when business was slow, you would watch the faint figures, looking like peanuts, run across the field with a ball, about the same size as a pin. it made you laugh to yourself, seeing such tenacious, rich boys freak out over a rubber sphere filled with air. 

“do you guys sell taiyaki?”

you blink at the boyish frizzled hair, glistening honey-kissed skin, and ruffled grass-stained jersey.

“…this is a convenience store.”

“well, then-anything with custard?”

you fumble before quickly stalking over to the small refrigerated area at his expectant look. you doubted it, but maybe… sometimes, your mother stocked up on the desserts—when he was in a good mood.

looking past the glass, you exhale before turning to the soccer player sheepishly, “um.. no, but we have frozen red bean buns?” 

you trail off awkwardly, scratching the side of your head. you gesture towards the exit, “you know, there’s a bakery down the street… you could’ve gone there first,” you add with a mumble. 

he simply nods and leaves without another word.

you cross your arms, peeking out the door to watch his figure get smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared. you scrunch your nose up—what a weird guy. 

you squint at the fine print on the back of his jersey:

nishimura #09 

must be a soccer player at the nearby academy. what were the chances you watched him play on that field without knowing? 

the players often came after a long practice to grab drinks and snacks, but this was the first time you had ever seen him before. when you told your mother about the weird encounter, she only shook her head. 

it’s only after that day you begin to hear whispers of the next upcoming pro soccer star—nishimura riki. you’re a little surprised to find out that strange guy was a soccer prodigy. 

you’re even more surprised when nishimura begins to become a regular. some days he comes in nonchalantly, asking for a protein drink, and other days he simply comes and sits down without some made up excuse. 

“don’t you have school work? a house to stay at and family to be with?” you ask, not out of annoyance, but genuine curiosity. your mother shoots you a sharp glare that you look away at. 

“soccer is my life,” he replies simply. you observe his designer backpack and newest model phone. what kind of life did riki live in which he never wanted to go home? 

“that’s okay. here, you can relax,” your mom assures him. that’s the first time you see riki smile. 

his soccer friends will occasionally join him. you have to actively hide the disdain on your face when all the ruckus and stink of them enter the store. you could stand nishimura riki, but not him with his friends. 

you didn’t really notice until the fan girls started piling up at the door, it causes you to study riki with a sigh. your cheeks warm, you suppose…

he was sort of handsome? 

pinching your nose bridge exasperatedly, you glare at riki. “can you tell them to leave? they’re disturbing customers and blocking the door. this is horrible for our business.”

riki looks up, “who?” 

you grip the broom tighter in your hands and point it outside like it was a weapon. 

“they’re not my problem,” he only shrugs. you roll your eyes, “please?” 

your mom shoots the two of you an amused glance from the cashier desk. 

riki groans before getting up with a click of his tongue, “since you asked so nicely.”

you watch his games with stars in your eyes, sitting in the far bleachers with your mom. a bag of freshly cooked side dishes sit by your feet, waiting to be given at the end of the match that riki would win. your gaze could never leave him. 

every movement of his, the sheer determination and fire burning in his eyes, it only inspired you. you never knew how much love a person hold towards a passion until you met nishimura riki. 

he was born for soccer. or, soccer was made for him. maybe, one day, you could find your own spark. 

during christmas, riki helps you set up a small tree outside the store. you giggle as he struggles to hang up the ornaments. 

seeing the wonder in his eyes, akin to a small child opening presents for the first time, it makes you wonder if he has ever done this before. after all, he spent all of his time at the convenience store with you whenever he wasn’t practicing. he never once mentioned his family or home. he never acted snotty or spoiled like the other academy kids, no matter how talented and rich he was. 

you learned although riki has such a lavish life, it could never be as rich as a life like this—full of love and happiness. right? 

his hands linger over yours as you put the finishing touch, the twinkling star, on the top. 

“it’s best to share the christmas spirit with everyone,” you say decisively and the smile he sends you after makes you think… 

you may have a small crush on him. 

you’re the most surprised when a rather intimidating lady in sunglasses pops by the convenience store one afternoon, handing you a business card. 

“why do you look shocked? you’re pretty.” 

you blush at riki’s simple statement. 

modeling? you had never considered it, that’s for sure. you always thought you were going to become a writer. after all, your mother always praised your literature skills. 

her face is unreadable, she was only looking at you the entire time the scouting manager was talking to you. 

“what do you think, mom?” you glance at her curiously. 

“it’s your choice…of course.” 

you study the card with scrunched up eyebrows. trying it out wouldn’t hurt, right? and some extra money for the family would be nice, as well. 

the first gig that you you were able to book, your life changed forever. 

your mom smiles and kisses your forehead. a small, white dainty bag is shoved to your face. you blink, eyes focusing on the words. they bulge as you gasp at riki. 

“how much was this? you-“

he huffs as he pats your head, “congrats. it’s nonrefundable, so don’t try to return it.” 

you glance up at him, emotions swirling through your eyes. suddenly, your arms are thrown around him. he’s speechless, eyes wide and wind knocked out of him. for a moment—you really felt like your hearts stopped. together, in sync. 

for just that one second, the world stopped revolving. 

however, he isn’t able to respond when your mother comes back in the store with an unreadable expression. 

“riki.”

you feel him freeze, turn cold right in your arms. you glance out, at the polished mercedes benz parked and waiting outside. perhaps that was the start of the end. 

riki suddenly bows to the both of you. “thank you. for everything i, um…”

the car honks, and he gives you one last lingering look before heading out. you stare at the bag, and then your mom, whose expression makes your stomach drop. 

“he’s not coming back, is he?”

february 2023. 

“aren’t you excited?” 

“obviously! i would be if i was marrying a rich guy like him. plus, just look at his face! and body-i mean, his proportions are crazy.…”

you tune out the chatter, closing your eyes. the hair stylist puts her finishing touches on your hair while the makeup artist sprays a fixer on your face. 

“-y/n?” 

your eyes fly open. “hm?”

they look at you, more excitement in their eyes than you ever had when finding out. 

“aren’t you happy? this is going to be the wedding of the century! all the top idols and celebs are invited…”

“a love story just like in the dramas-!” 

you stare at your reflection in the mirror. every day not already booked with your work schedule was spent on the wedding. it made you sick. 

trying on different dresses, experimenting out makeup and hair styles, you simply  nodded to it all. whatever made your mom happy, sure. 

how many flavors of cake were you going to taste? how many tiers were there going to be? none of it was necessary. 

you were sick of planning all the flowers, and draperies, and light fixtures like you even had a say in the first place. 

you always imagined that you would get married in a simple courtyard, with only close friends and family. wearing your mom’s dress, eating home cooked food family style. 

all with your groom right by your side. your husband who would happy with anything, as the only thing that mattered was getting married to you. one time, you had dreamed of marrying him with that forever smirk on his face, smelling constantly like grass and men’s deodorant that you never found out the name of. 

but a fantasy would always remain a fantasy. 

how long would you stay stuck in the past?

you close your eyes again, and the words ring in your ears just like when your now fiancé spoke to you. 

my parents were going to set me up with a stranger. i thought this proposal would be for the best. 

your eyebrows twitch. 

you motherfucker. 

it all made sense. the media would eat it up. your parents would eat it up. and now that you had established your presence in the industry, so would his parents. 

how could you say no? 

you didn’t even have a choice. the agreement was signed faster than you could open your mouth and protest. this marriage—no, this agreement, was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

and yet, all you could wonder is, 

did he actually come up with the idea? 

or was it all a business tactic? 

october 2019. 

the wind blows the crispy leaves across the pavement. you don’t have to wear a mask or any sort of identity-covering clothing, yet. but you do have a manager who has allowed you two hours of free time. 

your parent’s convenience store closed down last year in order for you to focus on your rising career. it was a simple curiosity that dragged you back to check on the spot.  

although it’s a tech store now, you’ll never forget the time you spent here growing up. and then, meeting someone you never expected to change your li-

the call of your name breaks you out of your trance. 

that voice. 

it can’t be.

you whip around, hair flying behind you. your jaw drops, “r-riki?”

you can’t believe it, hands shaking. in front of you stands a taller, sturdier nishimura riki. gosh, how much time had passed? 

you lost his number when you switched to a newer, better phone and subscription plan. you thought you had lost him forever. 

he slowly walks up to you, identical smiles mirroring each other and growing on both of your faces. 

“i can’t believe it… w-what are you doing here?”

unconsciously, you grip his track jacket. as if, you had to check and make sure he was actually in front of you. you weren’t dreaming again, right?

“i finally got a break from training. my coaches said we could go anywhere and…” he shrugs before gesturing at the former convenience store. 

“i didn’t know it closed down. this is the first time i was able to come back.”

your eyes sparkle, “you’re still playing?”

he nods and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “good. you’re too good for the sport.”

he laughs and you almost melt at the sound. 

“wanna take a little walk?”

it’s too comfortable, you fall into your old rhythm again. a pleasant silence falls over the two of you as you walk past the stores, the old soccer field, strolling past your childhood. 

“i wanted to come back, so many times,” he murmurs. you cautiously glance up at him, waiting silently for him to continue. 

he scratches the back of his neck, “but playing for the u-20s doesn’t really allow that so…” 

“i-i tried looking for you online, though.”

you mask your laugh with a cough. “ah. that must be because my manager controls all my accounts. they must’ve thought it was spam or a prank. sorry.” 

riki’s quick to shake his head, “no, no. i get it. we’re both busy. but maybe we could, like, stay in touch this time.” 

you kick a stray leaf with your foot, hiding a bashful expression. 

“we should.”

he turns to you, and you realize you made it back to where your store once stood. it’s much darker—your manager is going to be mad. your mother, too. 

“promise. promise you’ll make it to the world cup and promise you’ll keep me updated.” 

“i promise. you’ll be right by my side cheering, right?”

when he takes a step closer, you swallow. then, you close your eyes. a beat passes, two beats.

a sharp inhale and then you feel something warm press against your lips. only for a second. 

it’s nice. it feels.. right.

you decide then and there: nishimura riki just might be your first love. you hope, secretly and privately, somehow, he’ll be your last too. 

july 2021. 

“y/n!” your manager hisses and you hold back a huff. “come here-there’s someone you need to meet!”

you quickly bid farewell to a friend, a recently debuted idol in the industry, and scramble as fast as you can over in those damned heels. 

as soon as you reach her, you slow and the inviting smile is wiped off your face. there, standing right in front of you, is a man you don’t recognize. 

you refuse to recognize him. 

“this is nishimura riki! you might have heard of him on the news recently. he’s the future successor, taking over-“

that’s actually hilarious. she knew you didn’t have time to check the news anymore. her words are drowned out in the realization of it all. 

for the first six months, the two of you were good at staying in touch. you couldn’t really meet with you flying all over the world for shoots and riki with his rigorous training schedule. 

but you were convinced you could keep it up. maybe he wasn’t. or maybe it was a mutual understanding—busy schedules and changing lives were a lot to handle. you don’t know who sent the last message and who failed to respond. it’s been a little too long to remember anything but the lingering feelings. 

you frown, “your hair is up.” 

he falters, before fixing his tie. “yeah, i-they told me it looks more professional.” 

the nishimura riki you knew hated having his bangs out of his face. he hated stiff, restrictive clothes and all that fancy attire. 

“you look nice.” 

you take a step back. 

future ceo? 

you weren’t dumb. you knew the nishimura family was powerful. you just didn’t know he was weak enough to succumb to it. you actually thought he would be the one to break free and follow his dreams. 

“i thought… i thought you had finally done it, riki,” you say softly, staring sadly into his dark eyes. they don’t hold the same light and energy as they used to. 

“why are you doing this to yourself?”

he takes a step closer and you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate this riki. you hate the fancy, expensive smell that wafts off him. you want to wash it off. 

his confused expression makes you want to puke. 

“i don’t have a choice.”

“you were right there!” you jab a finger accusingly into his chest, before your hand drops lifelessly to your side. you turn away with confusion, disgust, and hurt brewing internally. you didn’t know this man. 

“i love you.” 

your heart stops. your feet still. yet, all you can do is shake your head. 

“stop.”

he takes your hand and it’s cold and smooth and not like the calloused, warm hands of nishimura riki. how could he change this much in less than a year?

“i’ll do anything to get you back—please! i don’t care that my parents want me to find a rich heiress, i’ll tell them my eyes are only for you.”

his words only made you wonder—did he ever notice your face plastered on billboards? read any of your interviews posted online? 

you turn around with mirth swimming in your pupils, “oh, that’s very kind of you. use all the power and fame you’ve gained.”

he frowns.

“aren’t you just saying that because you’re scared? you aren’t any different--you’re just like me.”

at that, you feel your heart shatter. you weren’t any different from nishimura riki? 

after everything, you’d never understand him, you guess. and he’d never understand you. 

“just fucking leave me alone.”

present day. 

the interviewer sits in front of you with a warm smile, your eyes fall on the giant vogue printed on the microphone. 

the majority of the questions are simple and surface-level, you run through them with practiced ease. it’s not until she reaches the end and pulls out the heavier ones that you falter. 

“did you always want to become a model?”

“no, actually.. to be frank, i never considered it before.”

“oh, really? what did you want to do?”

you cross your arms, then uncross them. your heel clacks against the polished floor. you swallow harshly, looking away from the bright lights. “actually, i… don’t know. i never really had the chance to think about it before i was scouted.”

the interviewer notices the change in your energy, which makes her laugh cautiously. 

“that’s fine! enough of the past, let’s move on to the present. and this’ll be the last question: do you feel like you’re satisfied with where you are now?”

her inquisitive eyes suddenly makes your mouth dry. you lick your lips. sensing your apprehensiveness, she tries her best to smooth over the heavy question. 

it backfires. 

“most say you’re in your prime—after all, you’ve reached the peak of your career and you’re married to your childhood sweetheart, nishimura riki ! you must be content, or do you still feel like there’s more to accomplish?”

you pledged yourself, in sickness and in health, to the man you once loved and lost. you hate that your “dream” came true. you simply smile, voice cracking only the slightest when you answer,

“couldn’t be happier than ever.”

a/n: hi guys!! i wanted to try something different from my usual works with side characters, humor, and an "ideal" relationship, etc. haha. i just felt like exploring the more darker, deeper, and more problematic concepts. i think with this reader and riki, there are a lot of unresolved issues on both sides. idk, i enjoyed the pressure of not having a happy ending or resolution. sorry for being mia but hope you enjoyed anyway <3

[palajae]

Girl the latest jungwon fic was mind-blowing...I missed your work so much . I used to binge read all of your works ...thank you for posting here again you made my day better 😭💞

you're gonna make me cry whatttttttt i didn't know people still read my works--i thought my feed was (definitely is) dry af 💀

anyways, you put a smile on my face hehe i'm glad it made your day! maybe my new riki fic will too 👀🫶

[palajae]

hihi!! are you planning on making a part two of unfamiliar warmth? i know it's been 3 years haha but the ending has me wondering what will happen next! no pressure for another part as it's a masterpiece by itself 💞

no way its been THREE years?!!? holy i feel old... unfortunately, i don't ever plan on making a part two but that doesn't mean you can't ;)

[palajae]

jae omg hi bae how have u been :3

HIII i've been okay how are you @isoobie🥹

just finished the semester, forgive me for responding so late :(((( i love your theme btw

[palajae]

happy new year jae !! ⭐️⭐️

omg i'm so so sorry i've been mia and missed this 😭 happy (late) new year to you too asifhoafwnasl;faj;l

forgive me pls @idubiluv how has your year gone so far?

[palajae]

riki's my name fic was so :(((( LIKE IT WAS SO WHOLESOME AND SAD AT THE SAME TIME, AND I FEEL SO BAD FOR THE ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE RIKI BUT THEN AGAIN at least the main Riki found her uffff this shows that the body may be different but the heart remains the same. if possible, I would love to read a part 2 one day😭😭

aaaaaaa as much as i love my name, i really enjoy it as a standalone :) this way you guys (readers) can interpet and imagine the ending however you'd like! i think that's the most fun thing to do, no?

[palajae]

HII JAEE I JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVE YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

-🌊

ily and imy too 🫶🥰

[palajae]

I just wanted to let you know that I I know I haven't been active on your page like I used to be but you really are an amazing writer and still one of my favorites you were the blog that made me really stay on tumblr and the first I really became a fan of I just really just only read niki fics lol but I still look out for you pics especially for niki because when I was new man hype girl and your other stories I 2as obsessed with and still am I love yooouuuu and I hope you haven't forgotten about me can't wait to see what your next niki fic is (if you still write for him and accept request fir him) I hope you are doing OK

thank you 😭 that is very sweet of you and i actually (somehow) just managed to squeeze out a riki fic hehe. thank you for your continued patience and support!

[palajae]

than ever! | nrk.

PAIRING... rich kid! riki x reader | GENRE... angst, romance, fluff | WC... 3.9k | warnings... curse words, not proofread | listening to happier than ever by billie eilish :)

may 2025. 

your practiced smile meets the bajillion flashes of the cameras, screams by love struck fans, and questions from the nosy reporters. yet all you could focus on was the cold, firm hand placed perfectly at the small of your back. 

your husband and you make the picture perfect couple. an ideal appearance for your second year anniversary—you yourself cannot believe how much time has passed. 

how you ever managed to make it this far, this long—it’s almost unbelievable. 

“what are the lovely couple’s plans after the gala?”

your smile falters just a smidge. probably not even perceptible from any outsider’s perspective.  

plans?

ha, says who? 

your plan—from the start—was to remain the ideal wife. appear at every public appearance with your husband, by his side, just like this one sponsored by his parents. 

and obviously, pretend that you’re happier than ever. every damn time. you laugh softly, smile as bright as the extravagant lights and decor all around you.

the car ride home is silent, as per usual. it’s not like the atmosphere is cold—your driver eyes the both of you through the rear view window—it’s simply dead. 

your hand fiddles with the pearl earring on your left ear. mentally, you review your plans for tomorrow. another photoshoot, another interview. once upon a time, you only could’ve imagined a life like this. 

what would your parents say? seeing you like this? they gave you away happily, as happy as you tried to seem in front of them. 

you feel his eyes on you. it makes you shudder. for a split second, you allow your eyes to flicker over to the body sitting next to you.

you can’t even hate your own husband—you can only feel absolutely fucking nothing towards him now. 

his family was one of the most prominent ones in the entertainment industry. and their successor son was the golden child. 

you could only dream of the past, the what-ifs and all the warm nostalgia. how your life could have been so different. if you didn’t succumb to fame and success. would your life be utterly different? like back then?

with him? 

all your memories contained him smiling, running, fighting, and sweating. he was human—able to love and be loved. so, completely different from the man you married. his flawlessly styled hair and porcelain skin piss you off.

maybe you were too late. grew your power and status, rising to the top of the modeling industry a little too late. if only you got to him, found him, a little bit earlier. 

the car comes to a halt. you simply blinked, and suddenly you made it back. it was an unintentional skill you had developed to make the car rides back quicker. you open the door for yourself, automatically walking out. 

you can hear his footsteps follow you, the click of his shoes cause you to frown. your husband is following you, yet you want the distance to grow. 

you walk faster, only stopping when you hear the pace of his footsteps quicken. your lip curls up in disgust. so, you whip around, crossing your arms with an emotionless expression on your face. you can’t believe you’re wasting your breath again.

“don’t. you embarrass me.”

his eyes are unreadable. “you left your purse in the car.” 

your eyes narrow at his grip on the delicate strap. an expensive purse ruined by such a simple action. it almost hurt you like it used to. 

you look him dead in the eye when you say, “everything good i have is ruined by you.”

you mean it. 

with that, you turn and walk the paved path into your house. with him, you could never call it a home. he made you hate this city. you once thought your husband could be your everything. now it all makes you fucking sick. 

unlike before, you’re happier than ever to be apart from him, while you can only dream of the one that got away. 

there’s only one rags-to-riches, real life cinderella, story. and it’s yours.

your humble background is what allowed you to become so successful—to be named the “it-girl” of the nation. it allowed you to meet and marry the perfect man. your life now is what others dream of, what people talk about on the internet and what fans obsess over. 

looking back, would you do it all over again? 

august 2017. 

you wipe the sweat off your forehead as you clean the table with one final sweep of the rag. you hear the whistle blowing from the field across your family’s small store. 

was it time already? 

growing up next to the most prestigious academy in the nation came with its pros and cons. 

pro: the rich kids stopped by. 

cons: the rich kids stopped by. 

but business was business, after all. when business was slow, you would watch the faint figures, looking like peanuts, run across the field with a ball, about the same size as a pin. it made you laugh to yourself, seeing such tenacious, rich boys freak out over a rubber sphere filled with air. 

“do you guys sell taiyaki?”

you blink at the boyish frizzled hair, glistening honey-kissed skin, and ruffled grass-stained jersey.

“…this is a convenience store.”

“well, then-anything with custard?”

you fumble before quickly stalking over to the small refrigerated area at his expectant look. you doubted it, but maybe… sometimes, your mother stocked up on the desserts—when he was in a good mood.

looking past the glass, you exhale before turning to the soccer player sheepishly, “um.. no, but we have frozen red bean buns?” 

you trail off awkwardly, scratching the side of your head. you gesture towards the exit, “you know, there’s a bakery down the street… you could’ve gone there first,” you add with a mumble. 

he simply nods and leaves without another word.

you cross your arms, peeking out the door to watch his figure get smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared. you scrunch your nose up—what a weird guy. 

you squint at the fine print on the back of his jersey:

nishimura #09 

must be a soccer player at the nearby academy. what were the chances you watched him play on that field without knowing? 

the players often came after a long practice to grab drinks and snacks, but this was the first time you had ever seen him before. when you told your mother about the weird encounter, she only shook her head. 

it’s only after that day you begin to hear whispers of the next upcoming pro soccer star—nishimura riki. you’re a little surprised to find out that strange guy was a soccer prodigy. 

you’re even more surprised when nishimura begins to become a regular. some days he comes in nonchalantly, asking for a protein drink, and other days he simply comes and sits down without some made up excuse. 

“don’t you have school work? a house to stay at and family to be with?” you ask, not out of annoyance, but genuine curiosity. your mother shoots you a sharp glare that you look away at. 

“soccer is my life,” he replies simply. you observe his designer backpack and newest model phone. what kind of life did riki live in which he never wanted to go home? 

“that’s okay. here, you can relax,” your mom assures him. that’s the first time you see riki smile. 

his soccer friends will occasionally join him. you have to actively hide the disdain on your face when all the ruckus and stink of them enter the store. you could stand nishimura riki, but not him with his friends. 

you didn’t really notice until the fan girls started piling up at the door, it causes you to study riki with a sigh. your cheeks warm, you suppose…

he was sort of handsome? 

pinching your nose bridge exasperatedly, you glare at riki. “can you tell them to leave? they’re disturbing customers and blocking the door. this is horrible for our business.”

riki looks up, “who?” 

you grip the broom tighter in your hands and point it outside like it was a weapon. 

“they’re not my problem,” he only shrugs. you roll your eyes, “please?” 

your mom shoots the two of you an amused glance from the cashier desk. 

riki groans before getting up with a click of his tongue, “since you asked so nicely.”

you watch his games with stars in your eyes, sitting in the far bleachers with your mom. a bag of freshly cooked side dishes sit by your feet, waiting to be given at the end of the match that riki would win. your gaze could never leave him. 

every movement of his, the sheer determination and fire burning in his eyes, it only inspired you. you never knew how much love a person hold towards a passion until you met nishimura riki. 

he was born for soccer. or, soccer was made for him. maybe, one day, you could find your own spark. 

during christmas, riki helps you set up a small tree outside the store. you giggle as he struggles to hang up the ornaments. 

seeing the wonder in his eyes, akin to a small child opening presents for the first time, it makes you wonder if he has ever done this before. after all, he spent all of his time at the convenience store with you whenever he wasn’t practicing. he never once mentioned his family or home. he never acted snotty or spoiled like the other academy kids, no matter how talented and rich he was. 

you learned although riki has such a lavish life, it could never be as rich as a life like this—full of love and happiness. right? 

his hands linger over yours as you put the finishing touch, the twinkling star, on the top. 

“it’s best to share the christmas spirit with everyone,” you say decisively and the smile he sends you after makes you think… 

you may have a small crush on him. 

you’re the most surprised when a rather intimidating lady in sunglasses pops by the convenience store one afternoon, handing you a business card. 

“why do you look shocked? you’re pretty.” 

you blush at riki’s simple statement. 

modeling? you had never considered it, that’s for sure. you always thought you were going to become a writer. after all, your mother always praised your literature skills. 

her face is unreadable, she was only looking at you the entire time the scouting manager was talking to you. 

“what do you think, mom?” you glance at her curiously. 

“it’s your choice…of course.” 

you study the card with scrunched up eyebrows. trying it out wouldn’t hurt, right? and some extra money for the family would be nice, as well. 

the first gig that you you were able to book, your life changed forever. 

your mom smiles and kisses your forehead. a small, white dainty bag is shoved to your face. you blink, eyes focusing on the words. they bulge as you gasp at riki. 

“how much was this? you-“

he huffs as he pats your head, “congrats. it’s nonrefundable, so don’t try to return it.” 

you glance up at him, emotions swirling through your eyes. suddenly, your arms are thrown around him. he’s speechless, eyes wide and wind knocked out of him. for a moment—you really felt like your hearts stopped. together, in sync. 

for just that one second, the world stopped revolving. 

however, he isn’t able to respond when your mother comes back in the store with an unreadable expression. 

“riki.”

you feel him freeze, turn cold right in your arms. you glance out, at the polished mercedes benz parked and waiting outside. perhaps that was the start of the end. 

riki suddenly bows to the both of you. “thank you. for everything i, um…”

the car honks, and he gives you one last lingering look before heading out. you stare at the bag, and then your mom, whose expression makes your stomach drop. 

“he’s not coming back, is he?”

february 2023. 

“aren’t you excited?” 

“obviously! i would be if i was marrying a rich guy like him. plus, just look at his face! and body-i mean, his proportions are crazy.…”

you tune out the chatter, closing your eyes. the hair stylist puts her finishing touches on your hair while the makeup artist sprays a fixer on your face. 

“-y/n?” 

your eyes fly open. “hm?”

they look at you, more excitement in their eyes than you ever had when finding out. 

“aren’t you happy? this is going to be the wedding of the century! all the top idols and celebs are invited…”

“a love story just like in the dramas-!” 

you stare at your reflection in the mirror. every day not already booked with your work schedule was spent on the wedding. it made you sick. 

trying on different dresses, experimenting out makeup and hair styles, you simply  nodded to it all. whatever made your mom happy, sure. 

how many flavors of cake were you going to taste? how many tiers were there going to be? none of it was necessary. 

you were sick of planning all the flowers, and draperies, and light fixtures like you even had a say in the first place. 

you always imagined that you would get married in a simple courtyard, with only close friends and family. wearing your mom’s dress, eating home cooked food family style. 

all with your groom right by your side. your husband who would happy with anything, as the only thing that mattered was getting married to you. one time, you had dreamed of marrying him with that forever smirk on his face, smelling constantly like grass and men’s deodorant that you never found out the name of. 

but a fantasy would always remain a fantasy. 

how long would you stay stuck in the past?

you close your eyes again, and the words ring in your ears just like when your now fiancé spoke to you. 

my parents were going to set me up with a stranger. i thought this proposal would be for the best. 

your eyebrows twitch. 

you motherfucker. 

it all made sense. the media would eat it up. your parents would eat it up. and now that you had established your presence in the industry, so would his parents. 

how could you say no? 

you didn’t even have a choice. the agreement was signed faster than you could open your mouth and protest. this marriage—no, this agreement, was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

and yet, all you could wonder is, 

did he actually come up with the idea? 

or was it all a business tactic? 

october 2019. 

the wind blows the crispy leaves across the pavement. you don’t have to wear a mask or any sort of identity-covering clothing, yet. but you do have a manager who has allowed you two hours of free time. 

your parent’s convenience store closed down last year in order for you to focus on your rising career. it was a simple curiosity that dragged you back to check on the spot.  

although it’s a tech store now, you’ll never forget the time you spent here growing up. and then, meeting someone you never expected to change your li-

the call of your name breaks you out of your trance. 

that voice. 

it can’t be.

you whip around, hair flying behind you. your jaw drops, “r-riki?”

you can’t believe it, hands shaking. in front of you stands a taller, sturdier nishimura riki. gosh, how much time had passed? 

you lost his number when you switched to a newer, better phone and subscription plan. you thought you had lost him forever. 

he slowly walks up to you, identical smiles mirroring each other and growing on both of your faces. 

“i can’t believe it… w-what are you doing here?”

unconsciously, you grip his track jacket. as if, you had to check and make sure he was actually in front of you. you weren’t dreaming again, right?

“i finally got a break from training. my coaches said we could go anywhere and…” he shrugs before gesturing at the former convenience store. 

“i didn’t know it closed down. this is the first time i was able to come back.”

your eyes sparkle, “you’re still playing?”

he nods and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “good. you’re too good for the sport.”

he laughs and you almost melt at the sound. 

“wanna take a little walk?”

it’s too comfortable, you fall into your old rhythm again. a pleasant silence falls over the two of you as you walk past the stores, the old soccer field, strolling past your childhood. 

“i wanted to come back, so many times,” he murmurs. you cautiously glance up at him, waiting silently for him to continue. 

he scratches the back of his neck, “but playing for the u-20s doesn’t really allow that so…” 

“i-i tried looking for you online, though.”

you mask your laugh with a cough. “ah. that must be because my manager controls all my accounts. they must’ve thought it was spam or a prank. sorry.” 

riki’s quick to shake his head, “no, no. i get it. we’re both busy. but maybe we could, like, stay in touch this time.” 

you kick a stray leaf with your foot, hiding a bashful expression. 

“we should.”

he turns to you, and you realize you made it back to where your store once stood. it’s much darker—your manager is going to be mad. your mother, too. 

“promise. promise you’ll make it to the world cup and promise you’ll keep me updated.” 

“i promise. you’ll be right by my side cheering, right?”

when he takes a step closer, you swallow. then, you close your eyes. a beat passes, two beats.

a sharp inhale and then you feel something warm press against your lips. only for a second. 

it’s nice. it feels.. right.

you decide then and there: nishimura riki just might be your first love. you hope, secretly and privately, somehow, he’ll be your last too. 

july 2021. 

“y/n!” your manager hisses and you hold back a huff. “come here-there’s someone you need to meet!”

you quickly bid farewell to a friend, a recently debuted idol in the industry, and scramble as fast as you can over in those damned heels. 

as soon as you reach her, you slow and the inviting smile is wiped off your face. there, standing right in front of you, is a man you don’t recognize. 

you refuse to recognize him. 

“this is nishimura riki! you might have heard of him on the news recently. he’s the future successor, taking over-“

that’s actually hilarious. she knew you didn’t have time to check the news anymore. her words are drowned out in the realization of it all. 

for the first six months, the two of you were good at staying in touch. you couldn’t really meet with you flying all over the world for shoots and riki with his rigorous training schedule. 

but you were convinced you could keep it up. maybe he wasn’t. or maybe it was a mutual understanding—busy schedules and changing lives were a lot to handle. you don’t know who sent the last message and who failed to respond. it’s been a little too long to remember anything but the lingering feelings. 

you frown, “your hair is up.” 

he falters, before fixing his tie. “yeah, i-they told me it looks more professional.” 

the nishimura riki you knew hated having his bangs out of his face. he hated stiff, restrictive clothes and all that fancy attire. 

“you look nice.” 

you take a step back. 

future ceo? 

you weren’t dumb. you knew the nishimura family was powerful. you just didn’t know he was weak enough to succumb to it. you actually thought he would be the one to break free and follow his dreams. 

“i thought… i thought you had finally done it, riki,” you say softly, staring sadly into his dark eyes. they don’t hold the same light and energy as they used to. 

“why are you doing this to yourself?”

he takes a step closer and you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate this riki. you hate the fancy, expensive smell that wafts off him. you want to wash it off. 

his confused expression makes you want to puke. 

“i don’t have a choice.”

“you were right there!” you jab a finger accusingly into his chest, before your hand drops lifelessly to your side. you turn away with confusion, disgust, and hurt brewing internally. you didn’t know this man. 

“i love you.” 

your heart stops. your feet still. yet, all you can do is shake your head. 

“stop.”

he takes your hand and it’s cold and smooth and not like the calloused, warm hands of nishimura riki. how could he change this much in less than a year?

“i’ll do anything to get you back—please! i don’t care that my parents want me to find a rich heiress, i’ll tell them my eyes are only for you.”

his words only made you wonder—did he ever notice your face plastered on billboards? read any of your interviews posted online? 

you turn around with mirth swimming in your pupils, “oh, that’s very kind of you. use all the power and fame you’ve gained.”

he frowns.

“aren’t you just saying that because you’re scared? you aren’t any different--you’re just like me.”

at that, you feel your heart shatter. you weren’t any different from nishimura riki? 

after everything, you’d never understand him, you guess. and he’d never understand you. 

“just fucking leave me alone.”

present day. 

the interviewer sits in front of you with a warm smile, your eyes fall on the giant vogue printed on the microphone. 

the majority of the questions are simple and surface-level, you run through them with practiced ease. it’s not until she reaches the end and pulls out the heavier ones that you falter. 

“did you always want to become a model?”

“no, actually.. to be frank, i never considered it before.”

“oh, really? what did you want to do?”

you cross your arms, then uncross them. your heel clacks against the polished floor. you swallow harshly, looking away from the bright lights. “actually, i… don’t know. i never really had the chance to think about it before i was scouted.”

the interviewer notices the change in your energy, which makes her laugh cautiously. 

“that’s fine! enough of the past, let’s move on to the present. and this’ll be the last question: do you feel like you’re satisfied with where you are now?”

her inquisitive eyes suddenly makes your mouth dry. you lick your lips. sensing your apprehensiveness, she tries her best to smooth over the heavy question. 

it backfires. 

“most say you’re in your prime—after all, you’ve reached the peak of your career and you’re married to your childhood sweetheart, nishimura riki ! you must be content, or do you still feel like there’s more to accomplish?”

you pledged yourself, in sickness and in health, to the man you once loved and lost. you hate that your “dream” came true. you simply smile, voice cracking only the slightest when you answer,

“couldn’t be happier than ever.”

a/n: hi guys!! i wanted to try something different from my usual works with side characters, humor, and an "ideal" relationship, etc. haha. i just felt like exploring the more darker, deeper, and more problematic concepts. i think with this reader and riki, there are a lot of unresolved issues on both sides. idk, i enjoyed the pressure of not having a happy ending or resolution. sorry for being mia but hope you enjoyed anyway <3

[palajae]

the calm after the storm.

PAIRING... jungwon x reader? | GENRE... idol! au, romance, angst | WC... 1k

he plops onto the couch with a sigh, feeling the exhaustion settle into his bones. one show after another, checked off the tour set list. sometimes, jungwon wonders how much more he has in him. 

the staff allows all of the boys free time to explore afterwards, as always. jungwon takes his time getting ready in the hotel room. he didn’t have much to do, a simple baseball cap would suffice for going out at night.  

he pats the remaining of his skincare in. it’s too quiet in the spacious double king room. he wonders where ni-ki, his assigned roommate for this leg of the tour, is. probably visiting the other nembers. 

then, jungwon warily eyes his phone sitting on the bathroom counter next to him. he shouldn’t—he knows he needs to stop. more for his own sake, anyway. 

but after every single concert, strangely enough, his thoughts always circle back to you. 

his plans are interrupted—he quickly shuts the balcony door and hits the dial button. 

while jungwon nervously waits for an answer, the familiar tune filling his ears, he observes the sight in front of him. the beautiful nightlife in the city, unfamiliar lights and sounds filling the silence. it was the kind of view that should’ve taken his breath away.

but all he can think of, all he can feel, is your absence. that lonely ache in his heart. 

he isn’t sure how many rings pass until the screen lights up with your face. your face looks confused, yet it softens when jungwon finally acknowledges you. 

he takes all of it in—you sitting on your couch, wearing a hoodie that’s too large for you. jungwon almost winces. 

your hair is slightly tousled and makeup already off, he guesses it’s been a long day. even so, you were so beautiful that his breath hitches. 

ah, and he forgot about the time difference. lucky him for catching you at the right time. 

you smile hesitantly when you call out his name. he realizes how much he missed the sound. 

“jungwon,” you state pleasantly albeit surprised, “is there a reason you called? i thought you guys just finished-“

“hey,” jungwon suddenly has to clear his throat. he’s caught off guard by how much he has to control his feelings. he shifts his weight between his feet, clutching his phone a little tighter over the precarious railing. 

“sorry, for uh, disturbing you right now. i don’t know if you’re busy or what but, i just… i felt like calling.” 

your head tilts, curiosity in your eyes as your smile still holds a silent question. but you don’t push, as always. your patience was probably one of the things he admired most about you. 

“where are you guys right now? made it back to the hotel?”

jungwon nods, bangs falling slightly into his eyes as he feels the satisfaction fill him, just by seeing you and hearing your voice after so long. 

“yeah, we made it back.”

“then…you guys must be exhausted. you should-”

“no no, i’m alright. it’s worth it.” 

“oh, okay.” your lips press into a thin line. jungwon’s not sure if it’s because you’re unconvinced.

he turns the camera around to show you the view. 

“i’m,” he squints at the small screen in the corner, “i’m not sure if you can tell but—it’s really pretty here. but i don’t know, it just feels like something’s missing.”

jungwon turns the camera back to himself, watching you closely. your expression softens as he waits expectantly for an response. 

“does it?” 

“i don’t know how to explain it… kind of like i’m missing someone. it’s just too empty without…”

jungwon almost adds the you, it just barely refrains from coming out. he has to catch himself. as much as the word burns on the tip of his tongue, he holds himself back. 

it just doesn’t feel right without you. it never does, really—he wants to say. 

you blink, mouth opening to speak but you don’t say anything at first. he sees the way unreadable emotions flicker across your face, as if you’re deciphering his words and collecting your thoughts. 

“jungwon?” your voice comes out just a hair above a whisper. 

“i don’t think i-“

the door to the balcony flies open and jungwon jolts up. 

it’s ni-ki. 

“yo, what are you doing out here alone?”

his gaze falls onto the bright phone screen in his hands. jungwon feels his heart plummet to his stomach. 

ni-ki’s eyes squint at the screen before his face morphs into one of bewilderment. 

“is that my—“

“ki?” you visibly brighten up, and jungwon has no other choice but to drag his two feet over to his bandmate and share the screen. 

“baby!” he greets you back, gaze shifting between jungwon and the screen curiously. 

“what were you guys talking about?”

“oh—nothing much,” jungwon says as nonchalantly as he can, “just trying to catch up. i actually called heeseung’s brother earlier.” 

he isn’t sure why and how he came up with that lie on the spot. 

“oh,” the younger one simply nods, “cool.”

“wait, that reminds me. ki—you told me you were gonna call after the concert ended!” you interject with a playfully disapproving frown. there’s that sparkle in your eyes again, jungwon notices. 

wordlessly, he hands his phone to ni-ki. “i didn’t forget! i just got back and wanted to check up on jungwon first. i just didn’t know he beat me to it,” ni-ki jokes.  

jungwon forces out an awkward laugh. you smile again, although it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“my boyfriend’s bandmate cares about me more than my own boyfriend does,” you pretend to sulk. as ni-ki childishly protests and you fight back, jungwon eventually sighs and smacks ni-ki’s shoulder. 

“alright, alright, you two. it all worked out. now you can yap.” 

jungwon shoves his phone into the youngest’s hands and pushes him to the door exasperatedly, “you know what—just take my phone and talk inside. i’m tired.” 

ni-ki stares at jungwon, about to retort, but he simply holds out a hand to stop him, “leave me out here in peace.” 

“huh? what did he say?” your voice cuts through, and jungwon only closes his eyes. 

that was his final straw. ni-ki has no other choice but to go in, the sound of your two voices getting quieter and quieter. 

jungwon wonders what would’ve happened if he really said what he meant. if he really spoke what he felt. how would it all be different? 

he supposes he’ll never know. 

and neither will you. 

a/n ▸ surprise?! had my spring break + my bday coming up so just wanted to pop in with a little something :>

[palajae]

You are such an incredible writer ... honestly thank you for taking time out from your busy schedule and posting here ...I have read all of your works and girl let me tell you ...what did YOU DO TO BE THIS TALENTED 🫡😭....NO like I am not exaggerating.... it's so hard to find a good fic according to my taste and your fics are absolutely my type . THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR POSTING HERE ....school is def killing you ig cuz same girl I am in my last year and I am absolutely so done with myself...so let's suffer together...and hopefully you will get time in future to post here more . FIGHTING!!!💓💓

seeing this ask made me cry 😭😭 because honestly i don’t remember the last time i logged onto here let alone posted. first, i just wanted to thank you for your support since you are really hyping me up too much 🥹 mainly bc i think i have grown a lot but i definitely have a lot to work on lol. i’m always so so happy to hear from readers when they enjoy something i put so much work and effort into, especially because i genuinely love writing as well. when i first started on tumblr, it was during covid on an old blog of mine and i had no fucking clue what i was doing. but i made so many friends and had such a great time writing, even when it sucked ass lmao. that’s why even when i got wayy busier throughout the rest of high school i tried to keep it up (although my posting schedule was so inconsistent). i felt so pressured to keep up a consistent schedule and stay in touch with mutuals that it no longer became fun, so i started afresh with this blog. tumblr became just like a side quest where whenever i had a burst of inspiration, i would post and then log off lmao. looking back now, with this blog being 2 years old, i’m so grateful for the growth and love i received that i honestly did not expect.

now, i still love writing so much— i have so many wips and ideas but life is just lifing rn 😭😭 school and personal priorities has always been my main focus, and now in college i’m still figuring how to survive on a daily basis sondkend everyday is crazy for me so writing hasn’t even crossed my mind for a while. this doesn’t mean i’m leaving for good, especially because of school breaks and summer! i probably will return like once in a blue moon to post something i randomly get inspired by. but i’m never going to be consistently active on this account, and that’s okay. unfortunately i’m growing out of tumblr/writing in general, but it was and still is a great experience to reflect and look back on. i learned a lot and met some great people, but most of all, i was able to make others happy as well :)

sorry for the long ass response to your ask but i figured this was the best way to get an explanation out for everyone since i basically ghosted you guys for some time (im sorry pls forgive me) thank you again and good luck to you too!

i love you guys and hopefully see you soon <3

sincerely,

jae

[palajae]

women in STEM (shitty posture, tired all the time, eyebags, miserable)

[palajae]

NAHHH HE’S NOT EVEN REAL

[palajae]

OK WAIT BELP I DONT MEAN TO SELF PROMO OR ANYTHING. but. um i write enha longfics 😛🙏 since u were talking abt them 🫠🫠 BUT LIKE ONLY BECAUSE U TALKED ABT IT LOLOL FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS

NONO that’s great!! i’m all for that and wait as im ab to go binge ur fics 🏃‍♀️💨💨

[palajae]

Hey can you write another series based off riki and jungwon ....the first one was so good . You are such a good writer actually.

bro i’d love to-im just swamped by schoolwork 😭😭 whenever i get a free weekend i’ll def write and try to post more!!

just tryna finish the ohshc series before working on new stuff. but i’ll add that to my wips!! thank you🫶