yvesrfm

[yvesrfm]

𐙚˙✧˖° ❄️You & Me, Always Forever ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

#3 /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

iceskater boyfriend!park sunghoon x beginner skater!reader FLUFF

you & sunghoon go on an iceskating date together.

original by yvesrfm . . . all rights reserved. do not repost anywhere without consent. ♡🌷

"Hoon, I am going to die," I blurted out in acceptance as I gripped onto the sides of the ice skating rink. Hair in my face from the moment I stumbled into the ice rink upon entrance, thinking it wasn't that hard. If Sunghoon got in so gracefully, I thought I could go in and do the same, completely forgetting the part where he was a trained skater and I was very much not.

He stupidly laughed beside me, completely calm and upright on the ice, staring at me with a teasing glint in his eyes, hands on his hips as he watched me collect my breaths, clinging onto the flimsy plastic barriers of the rink separating ice from solid ground.

"If you don't leave the corner you won't get any better," He tutts, shaking his head slightly. He glided towards me, and he took my hands off of the barrier, causing me to squeal in a panic. I immediately started to stumble, amateur attempts at trying to balance on the slippery floor.

"I am going to die," I repeated, a whine in my voice as I dumbly slid toward him. Sunghoon's hands held out infront of me, our gloved fingers interlocked, firm yet gentle. The only reason for my acceleration not the slight mastery, but Sunghoon's precise movements pulling me forward, leading us to the center of the rink. I stared at my own feet, watching the blades of my ice skates glide through the ice, leaving behind tiny shavings as I attempted to steady myself, bottom half already slightly aching at the unfamiliar strain ice skating required of my legs.

"You're not gonna," He laughed, his words slightly muffled by the giant blue scarf he insisted on wearing around his neck, covering his mouth. I squinted my eyes at him in deadpan, catching a glimpse of his pink cheeks from the cold. "Because I'm here," He tried reassuring in between amused laughs as I tried to stand similar to the other skaters around us. Effortlessly maneuvering past, light as a feather. Knees slightly bent. Chests forward. "How do they make it look so easy," I groaned, holding onto his hands for dear life as I watched everyone in awe.

"Because it is,"

"Okay professional skater," I rolled my eyes with a pout. He only chuckled.

"Here, let me teach you," He offered with a smile. His eyes crinkling up over his obnoxiously large scarf as he did. He lifted our arms up, showing me how to position my feet. I followed suit, causing him to nod with a pleased hum.

"Bend your knees a bit," He gently guided,

"You're getting good at this already," He mused, squeezing my hand encouragingly. I only laughed, feeling the tension slightly shake off my muscles. "I'm going to let go of you, okay?" He gently spoke, breathing out heavily as his fingers slowly slipped out of mine, Sunghoon moving back cautiously,

"Oh I am so going to die," I started to nervously laugh, feeling the warmth of his fingertips leave my sweaty palms. My body immediately tensed up again, no longer having any support to keep me upright. I remained still, knees still bent like he said.

"Just keep your knees bent. Shoulders relaxed, arms out," He reminded, pulling down his scarf to speak to me better as he stood about 3 feet away. An encouraging look on his face. "Now stay like that and try to take small marches toward me. Like this," He demonstrated, taking short steps, feet barely lifting off the ground. His knees and arms like mine to properly display the right form up to par with my beginner level.

I took a deep breath, staring directly ahead of me as I kept my arms up as if I had it flat against a table right infront of me. Knees still bent like he taught. Slowly, I lifted my foot off the ground then back down again in a small fearful stomp. Doing the same on the other, and alternately. Before I knew it, I started moving forward in a collected pace, a drastic contrast from my erratic attempts earlier.

Sunghoon smiled softly, his portruding fang-like teeth sticking out cutely, applauding kindly as I approached him. He held his hands out, awaiting for mine to finally intertwine back with his. I chuckled, lips pursed as I focused on staying upright.

Eventually, I reached him with an excited squeal. My hands back in their rightful place clamped against his. Joy coursed through my body, providing a comforting warmth despite the chill found in the December air.

"I did it," I laughed, relieved and proud. He nodded, looking down at me with adoration as he wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me in for a hug.

"Ready for Lesson 2, baby?"

[yvesrfm]

𐙚˙✧˖° 🖇️Let Me Be Your Fool ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

#2 /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

drabbles/scanrios: nishimura riki x bubbly cutesy fem presenting! reader FLUFF

i cannot get that gawdang song out of my head

we love an opposite aesthetic couple

original by yvesrfm . . . all rights reserved. do not repost anywhere without consent. ♡🌷

adores you so so much, to the point where he finds himself staring at you without saying a word, just admiring you.

enjoys seeing the contrast of aesthetics between you. his more hip edgy style focused on dark colours and baggy silhouettes vastly contrasting your soft lacey style more on flowy fabrics, dainty patterns, and florals.

whenever you'd go out on dates, he would always have his digital camera with him to capture even the littlest details of you. the glitter eye makeup you had on? captured. you had a ribbon in your hair? done. had pearl earrings on? obviously. you had a faux orchid on your kitten heels? he's about to take a picture no matter how much you protest.

another endearing thing he would do for you without question during your little outings together is hold your bag or purse no matter how pink, lacey, and glittery. your bag would stand out like a sore thumb hung on his shoulder during shopping sprees or walks in the park, and every time you would say you could carry it as to not ruin his whole vibe, he stubbornly declines, saying you could never ruin anything.

one time, you guys attended a music festival together, your feet aching from constantly standing and walking around in your heels, even if it was the lowest pair you had. with a single complaint, ni-ki switched shoes with you. his huge timberlands comfy against the stinging pads of your feet while he nonchalantly stood barefoot in his socks, enjoying the music. he even tried wearing your heels for a minute. eventually, you felt bad he had to endure the music festival in just his socks, but he didn't care how dumb he looked or how dirty his socks got as long as his girl was comfortable.

we all know how obsessed he is with chrome hearts. this boy does not shy away from sharing his obsessions with you because you're top 1 of them all. would absolutely scour the whole internet and take his time searching physical stores to look for merchandise you would love. anything pink he could find, automatically pulling out his wallet for you.

trust that he will always have something that symbolizes you with him. whether it be a cute cat keychain hanging on his leather bag, or a cutout of your kiss mark he stubbornly insisted you make for him inserted in his phone case. one time you caught him tie one of your ribbons to his belt hoop, a final touch to his outfit.

loves sleepovers with you. especially your makeup or skincare sessions. will patiently hold on to your waist as you smear another product he has no idea about on his face, loving the sensation of your gentle fingers running all over his skin. one time, he insisted you give him a 'glam makeover', which was a full face of makeup like yours. you argued with him the whole time because he could not keep a straight face, causing you to keep messing up the makeup. he just couldn't resist the smile tugging at his lips everytime he saw you so focused trying to do his 'glam makeover'.

he loves music, and it was hard for him not to associate every song with you. throughout your days together, he would blow up your messages, sending links to songs, pestering you to listen and share your thoughts on it. ofcourse, playlists handpicked by himself were no exception. the cover photos? the candid photos he would take of you.

[yvesrfm]

𐙚˙✧˖°📷Frames With You ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

#1 /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

high school basketball player!jake x campus journalist!reader FLUFF

original by yvesrfm . . . all rights reserved. do not repost anywhere without consent. ♡🌷

reader is lowkey highkey me when i start liking a boy famous among women irl.

"Why am I lowkey sick of seeing this guy's face," I joked with an amused chuckle, pushing off the heels of my feet to lean back against the office chair, a faint creaking beneath me as my weight shifted. Park Jeongseong, my co-writer at our High School's official publication, peered over my shoulder with a faint smirk. Both of our eyes holding the same reflected image brightly displayed on my laptop screen. It was a picture of a boy mid throw of what was eventually a 3-pointer shot in the Basketball tournaments earlier that day.

"Put some respect on his name," He humorously commented as he moved away from my seat, getting back to his side of the office as he slid across the room with his chair, the aged wheels screeching against the concrete ground as he stupidly waddled away with his legs. I rolled my eyes at his words, clicking through the pictures I managed to take from the sports tournaments the past few days. Majority of which were of the same boy.

Dark, slightly wavy hair.

Tan skin glistening under the humid temperature caged within the school's Gymnasium.

"Didn't think you guys were close," I replied, the same amused tone in my voice as I continued to click through the pictures. Gentle clicks under bored fingertips.

Jay laughed at this.

"Jake's fangirls are going to come for your ass,"

A snort escaped my lips as I absentmindedly browsed Sim Jaeyun's pictures on my laptop. Scrutinizing his features. His hair. His arms. The smile on his lips, yet the fiery look in his eyes when he had the ball in his hands. There was no denying Jake's features. Not only was he sporty, but he had the physical characteristics to match. It was no wonder why he had an immeasurable number of girls trailing him, hoping that the singular glance they exchanged meant something beyond somewhere along the lines of coincidental and platonic.

And I hated him for that.

Not because he was ever mean to me directly, nor did he ever give me a nasty glance. He was the opposite rather, always with a smile plastered on his face as if it was tattooed onto his cheeks. I'd be having the worst day of my life and I'd see that boy a few feet away from me in the cafeteria, smiling like he was held at gunpoint to, and my irritation would just build. What was he so happy about? That question bugged me so much I assumed it was because he thought himself to be perfect.

I mean, he was. But the difference was being humble about it. In my head, the reason why Sim Jake was so smiley all the time was because he was dubbed the King of Basketball at school, he's friends with all the cool kids, is rich, and has plenty of girls willing to kill just to hold his hand for a minute. I was convinced he was an arrogant little tyrant.

I knew I might be crazy for thinking the way I did about that boy, but in the back of my mind, I clearly knew why.

I liked Jake. Though I would never admit it.

It made sense.

Rich Popular Kids don't mesh with Campus Nerds Who Run School Papers. A stupid immature redrict, I know. But the lucky thing about being me, is I'm only immature in my head and arguably much more mature than the boys passing around pictures of half-naked women during a boring lecture, or the girls who'd feed their overconsumerist craze shopping on an app with somewhat proven allegations of child labor. Atleast, I'm redeemable, in a way.

I was also convinced he wasn't my type. Even despite the lingering glances and a sudden bursting feeling in my chest whenever I'd see him. Or how sometimes, I'd conjure up calculated plans to get to talk to him more. Only ever in my head, of course. Everytime it feels like I was finally going through with my plans, I end up feeling like a conniving idiot.

I thought that even if I allowed this little innocent crush to foster, I'd only end up looking as boy-crazy as the thousands of girls chasing after him. I was pretty sure he would never look at me like that, and I'd be the 110th girl he'd cross out of his admirers list. My pride told me I was a lot of things, but definitely not a rejected sore loser.

So every time Jake was brought up in a conversation full of praise and admiration, I had two options. Throw a comment laced with dismissal, or stay silent altogether.

-

I received a notification, I reckoned for the 50th time these past few minutes since our President posted the daily headlines onto our publication's page. I switched off my notifications through the settings bar, and continued to eat. Shoving side dishes into my mouth with a defeated gaze as my co-writers conversed around me. I should be happy that my article for the day was gaining traction, but that was the thing. My article was gaining traction. My article about Jake.

And I feared an underlying connotation could build. As every highlighted headline featuring our High School's King of Basketball, sat in bold letters only in slightly smaller font under it, was my name.

It wasn't a problem before. Writing Sports articles were always within my capabilities, but with every junior excusing themselves unable to take up an article about Sim Jake, and our President commending my work for my 'objective and unbiased evaluation of Sim Jake's skills' — which was just me writing with utter bitterness from my preconceived perspective on the boy — it was noticably only I, who wrote about Jake.

So much for trying not to seem boy-crazy. To everyone and their mom, I probably looked like I could practically drop dead for that boy if he asked me to.

"Earth to (Y/n)," Heeseung called out in elongated enunciations, waving his chopsticks infront of my face with a piece of chicken in between. I snapped out of my worrying and glared at him,

"Can you not wave your chicken in my face,"

"I'm sorry you were just too out of it. What's up?" He quickly apologized with a laugh, popping the chicken in his mouth, muffling his last two words with crunches.

"Nothing," I answered, "Can't you guys do the interview with Jake?"

Jay, sitting to my left, shook his head, "Nah, Won assigned you and you know how he gets when we try to negotiate,"

I groaned.

"C'mon guys..," I begged, hands infront of my face in prayer as I turned to Heeseung, still enjoying his chicken as if it was that little piece of meat he had been friends with for 3 years and not me. I blinked at his cluelessness, offended by his apathy as I stole a piece of chicken from his tray, shoving it into my mouth without a second thought.

"How about you, Sunoo? I'll buy you ice cream if you do. Mint chocolate, your favorite," I bargained, turning to the boy sitting infront of me. A sorry, yet amused look on his face as Heeseung sulked beside me, reaching out to Jay to take a piece of his meal in compensation.

"Nuh-uh, I have the Volleyball tournaments to write about," He pouted, scrunching his nose in apology. Scolding the boys beside me to stop being so rowdy before I poked their eyes out with my chopsticks.

I nodded in understanding, knowing there was nothing more I could do. -

I gently patted my cheeks with the soft plush of my cosmetic puff, matte skin toned patches evening out onto the skin. I gave my reflection one last glance before shutting the compact mirror with one swift motion of the palm. I turned around, tugging my coat jacket down in place, and placing a thick strand of hair over my shoulder. Feeling hot and stuffy in the congested air of the school Gymnasium.

"How do I look Riki?" I asked the tall boy standing infront of me, impatiently adjusting the lens of his camera to achieve the correct focus for the interview. He raised his eyebrows as he lifted his head, getting a good look of my Professional Interviewer outfit. A cheeky grin spread across his face,

"A bit too formal for meeting your boyfriend, don't you think?" He giggled stupidly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I will literally woop your ass,"

"Not in front of your boyfriend I hope," He countered as he stared behind me, bringing his camera up to his face. I turned around to see Sim Jake approaching us, a kind smile on his face as he waved his teammates goodbye. I felt my stomach flip, and my body immediately went stiff. I awkwardly stood there with a nervous smile on my face as he walked, staring directly at me.

"Hi. This is for the interview, right?" He finally spoke, extending his hand to shake mine. His voice gentle. A hint of a foreign accent hanging on the edge of his words. My throat went dry and it felt as if my heels were glued on the polished wooden floors of the Gymnasium. All I could do was force a smile. I stared at him dumbly for a split second before I extended my hand to shake his. I laughed awkwardly as our palms came into contact, his confident, yet gentle, grip overriding my rigid body language.

"Yes, this is for the Monthly Athlete Feature. We're glad to have you," I spoke with a smile, pleasantly surprised by his friendly tone. No hint of any form of inflated ego in his tonality and body language. I felt myself slightly loosen up, feeling my shoulders relax a bit as I managed a deep breath in. He smiled at my words and gave me a polite head nod, glancing at Riki, whose face was hidden behind his massive camera. Despite this, I could still see the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

I just knew he was having the time of his life.

"Are we rolling?" Jake asked, gesturing to the camera with a chuckle. I let out a laugh.

"Riki, are we rolling?" I called out with a clear of my throat.

He only gave me a thumbs up in reply.

-

I scrambled into my room, exasperatedly flopping onto my bed as I stared at the eggshell ceiling of my room. Heart racing, pounding at speeds I did not think was possible. I had taken long commutes to get home before, so I knew it wasn't the trip home that made my heartbeat spike. I took a deep breath, eyelids fluttering shut. For a second, content to finally sleep the day's events away even if it meant dozing off in my interview outfit from earlier. As if sleeping for a few hours would make everything go away.

My solace, interrupted by the deep buzz of my phone, rested inches away from my fingertips. I irritatedly clawed at it and switched the gadget on, Riki's username popping up on my display screen. That boy really had the talent for pissing me off.

I viewed his message.

It was the link to the interview. Now edited, and published onto the feed of our page.

My eyes immediately went wide as I shot up. Loose strands of my hair sticking out at ferocious angles and sticking onto my face. Blinking at the screen, my eyes scanned Riki's message, immediately catching sight of me and Jake's smiling faces. I clicked onto the link, swiftly getting transferred to the video. I immediately noticed the reactions, now at around 250 after just 20 minutes. Out of instinct, my eyes darted to the lower right corner.

16 comments.

In consideration of my mental stability, I had chosen not to view the comment section yet.

I pressed at the play button and watched myself undergo a repeated cycle of talking to the camera, reading out my flashcards of questions, and talking to Jake, with, in my opinion, a painful smile on my face. I scrunched up at my own voice, but somewhat felt satisfied with my overall performance anyways.

Around the 5 minute mark of the video, interviewer me asked Jake to deliver a final message to his supporters to conclude the interview. He gladly took the microphone from my hands and looked for the words to say, the camera capturing the small way he tilted his head as he formulated the right sentences. The frame zooming in on his features as I go out of frame. Jake's soft voice echoed into my room through speaker phone.

"...Uh- Aside from my fans, friends, and family— Ofcourse, I'd like to thank the Publication for constantly writing about my achievements and progress, and for having me here.."

I gulp.

"Especially, Ms. (Y/n) (L/n) here. My writer."

The camera pans out to show my face. Eyes wide and cheeks slightly pink.

The video ended eventually after.

My heart pounded in my chest loud enough it reverberated into my ears. With shaky fingers, I clicked off the interview and opened the comment section. The drama queen in me expected death threats from Jake's mob of fangirls. Although there were a few distasteful ones, those of which are not as bad as I thought, the most liked comment from a user named JoOyoung13 caught my attention. It read,

'What a cute pair! ㅋㅋㅋ'

My breath caught in my throat and my heart welled with a feeling I could not quite decipher.

How was I supposed to not seem boy-crazy now, when there's physical proof of me aflutter because of the one boy I specifically planned to stay away from?

What must I do, in frames with you?