౨ৎ TRIPPED UP OVER YOU .ᐟ .ᐣ
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ You and Riki have always been just friends or at least, that's what you think. Everyone else seems to be one step ahead, desperately waiting for the two of you to finally get together. During a slow, chaotic day at school, the teacher is late, and Riki spots the perfect opportunity to shoot his shot ˚｡⋆
#### — one-shot, crack/humor (ig), friends to lovers, fluff, confessing, mention of rizz, 1.9k word count
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ after this one shot might post another one or another smau 😞 , saw this idea from somewhere couldn’t remember and felt the need the write it down :P
The teacher was late. Again.
At first, everyone had kept it professional, quietly chatting, scrolling through their phones, half-heartedly pretending to review notes. But fifteen minutes into the wait, the classroom had dissolved into pure chaos. Someone was arm-wrestling by the windows. Someone else was loudly ranking the worst cafeteria meals. And you? You were simply trying to mind your own business, doodling little flowers in the corner of your notebook, when a suspicious object landed on your desk with a soft thud.
You blinked at it. A radio.
You glanced around, expecting someone to come claim it, but nobody seemed to notice or care. Shrugging, you pushed it aside and went back to your doodles, filing it under weird but not my problem.
That's when you heard it, the familiar beat of "White Tee" starting up from the radio. Loud. Obnoxiously loud. Heads turned. People stopped mid-conversation. The guy ranking cafeteria meals actually dropped his sandwich.
Before you could even process what was happening, Riki appeared in front of you like a bad omen.
The next second, he tripped over literally nothing, letting out an overly dramatic gasp as he collapsed onto the floor sideways, one hand on his hip like he was posing for some cheap magazine shoot.
"Gosh," he groaned loudly, dragging it out for maximum effect, "I hurt my knee... falling for you, pookie~"
For a moment, the classroom was dead silent. No one moved. Not even you.
You blinked down at him, your pencil still hovering over your half-finished doodle. Your brain was doing its best to catch up with... whatever this was.
From somewhere in the back, someone coughed suspiciously. it sounded suspiciously like they were trying not to laugh. Another person audibly whispered, "He finally did it," like they were watching the season finale of their favorite drama.
Meanwhile, Riki was still sprawled across the floor, basking in the attention like it was oxygen. The beat of "White Tee" thumped dramatically in the background, adding a weirdly emotional soundtrack to the chaos.
You cleared your throat, staring at him. "Are you... okay?"
Riki smiled up at you, bright and blinding. "Never better, babe."
You didn't know what was more concerning, the fact that he'd called you pookie in front of the entire class, or the fact that he looked genuinely proud of himself.
"Should I call the nurse?" you asked slowly.
Someone in the back shouted, "CALL THE PRIEST, HE'S DOWN BAD."
The entire class burst into laughter.
Riki, unfazed, lazily rolled onto his back and stretched out like a starfish. "Nah. Only thing that can heal me is your love."
You dropped your forehead onto the desk with a loud thunk. "Please stop."
"No can do, pookie," Riki sang, dragging out the nickname just to make it worse.
Somewhere behind you, chairs scraped against the floor as a few classmates started setting up an imaginary betting pool on whether you'd finally fall for Riki or throw your water bottle at him.
(You were this close to the water bottle option.)
Still, as you peeked up at him from under your arms, you couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. He was ridiculous. Absolutely, embarrassingly ridiculous. And yet...
In a secondhand embarrassment sort of way.
Riki noticed the smile immediately because of course he did, and beamed like he'd just won the lottery. He scrambled to his feet with the grace of a newborn deer and flopped into the empty chair next to you, way too close for comfort. His knee bumped yours under the desk, and he didn't even pretend to apologize.
"Admit it," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. "You're swooning."
You snorted. "I'm seriously considering faking an illness just to leave."
"You wouldn't abandon me like that," Riki said, clutching his chest dramatically. "Not after everything we've been through."
You raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
He opened his mouth, then paused. "Well. That one time we got detention together because you threw a paper airplane and blamed it on me."
"You volunteered to take the blame!"
"Because I was in love," he stage-whispered.
You deadpanned. "You were in love with the idea of skipping math."
Riki grinned, utterly unbothered. "Same thing."
You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looked at you like you hung the moon. Even when he was being unbearably cheesy. Especially when he was being unbearably cheesy.
The radio kept playing in the background, someone had started slow dancing dramatically in the back of the class, and a few people were whisper-shouting, "JUST DATE ALREADY" like it was their full-time job.
You decided to focus on the doodles again, pretending your heart wasn't doing weird things in your chest.
Next to you, Riki leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, looking way too smug for someone who had just eaten the floor in front of half the student body.
"Hey," he said after a beat, nudging your elbow lightly. "Since I already fell for you today, you owe me."
You gave him a suspicious side-eye. "Owe you what?"
You squinted. "You're telling me I have to reward you for tripping over your own feet?"
"Tripping for love," he corrected. "It's noble, actually."
You burst out laughing, and the sound seemed to set off a wave of cheers from your classmates, who were now invested way beyond normal levels.
In the middle of the chaos, you caught Riki watching you with a look that was surprisingly soft, completely different from his usual goofy antics. Like maybe he wasn't just joking. Like maybe, underneath all the crackhead behavior, he actually meant it.
You felt your cheeks heat up, and immediately looked away, pretending to rummage through your bag for a nonexistent pen.
Riki didn't press it. He just hummed under his breath, tapping the beat of "White Tee" on the desk like he had all the time in the world.
Maybe you were imagining it. Maybe you weren't.
Either way, you were doomed.
Because somehow, somewhere between the ridiculous pickup lines, the fake injuries, and the God-awful nickname "pookie," you realized you kind of liked it.
Your teacher walked in with an iced coffee in hand like she hadn’t just left a room full of hormonal, gossip-fueled teenagers unattended for twenty minutes. The second she stepped in, everyone pretended nothing had happened. Desks were straightened, phones disappeared, and Riki who had somehow climbed onto a chair for dramatic effect earlier, slid back into his seat next to you like he hadn’t just confessed his undying love in front of the entire class.
You tried not to glance at him.
Tried not to think about the way he’d looked at you.
Tried not to think about how it had actually... felt nice.
Unfortunately, your brain didn’t care about your efforts.
Every time you caught sight of him from the corner of your eye, your heart decided to pull a backflip. And Riki wasn’t helping. he’d stopped throwing lines and being loud, but he kept stealing glances at you like he was waiting for something. Like he was holding something back.
By the time class ended, your nerves were frayed.
You started packing up quickly, eager to get out of the classroom before someone made another “just date already” comment. But Riki caught up to you at the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and flashing you a sheepish grin.
“Hey,” he said, casual. “You still going to the library?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got to return that book before they start charging me in organs.”
You blinked. “Since when do you go to the library?”
“Since now,” he said. “I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m rebranding.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t object. Secretly, you didn’t mind. It felt nice to walk with him, away from the crowd. The hallway buzz had settled into a quiet background hum, and for once, he wasn’t being loud or ridiculous. He walked beside you with his hands in his pockets, head tilted toward you just slightly.
“So,” he said after a few moments of silence, “earlier.”
You glanced at him. “Yeah?”
He hesitated. For the first time in a while, he looked... nervous.
“I know it was kinda a joke. Like, the whole radio thing, the fall.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry about that part.”
You laughed. “You should be.”
“But,” he said, stopping in the middle of the hallway, “I wasn’t kidding about the actual falling part.”
He turned to face you, and you noticed the way his hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, the way he kept his gaze locked on yours like he was trying really, really hard not to chicken out.
“I like you,” he said. “Like, for real. Not just ‘haha pookie’. I mean it.”
Your heart thudded in your chest. “Riki—”
“I’ve liked you for a while now. And I know I’m kind of a clown about it. Okay, not kind of. I am a clown. But I didn’t want to keep pretending it’s all a joke.”
“I like you. Not just because you’re cute, or because you laugh at my stupid jokes. I like how you’re always lowkey judging everyone but still help people when they need it. I like the way you pretend not to care but secretly do. I like being around you. Even when you look at me like you’re gonna murder me with a pencil.”
You stared at him, heart doing things it had no right to be doing.
He looked down, suddenly shy. “I know I made it weird. I know it probably caught you off guard. But... I just need to know. Do you feel the same?”
You didn’t answer right away. Mostly because your brain had short-circuited. Partially because you were still trying to believe this wasn’t one of his elaborate jokes.
But when he looked up at you again, there was nothing jokey about his expression.
You stepped a little closer, shifting your bag on your shoulder.
“I do,” you said quietly.
His eyes widened. “Wait! what?”
You nodded. “I do feel the same. Maybe I didn’t realize it right away, because you’re always so... chaotic. But I do like you, Riki.”
The second the words left your mouth, his entire face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. He let out a yell, an actual yell and threw his arms up in the air, spinning once like he was celebrating a world championship.
“Let’s GOOOO,” he shouted.
Someone down the hall clapped. Someone else cheered. You buried your face in your hands.
“Oh my god, please don’t make this a public event.”
“Too late,” he said, beaming. “I’m about to tell the librarian. I’m about to tell that weird janitor who always smells like pickles. I’m gonna make flyers.”
You smacked his arm lightly. “I will take it back.”
He laughed, bright and giddy, then without warning, pulled you into a hug.
It was warm, surprisingly tight, and smelled faintly like shampoo and chaos. He squeezed you like he was afraid you might disappear, like he needed you to know he meant every single word he’d said.
You stood there for a moment, pressed against him, your arms slowly wrapping around his back.
This was real. This was happening.
He pulled back slightly, eyes shining. “You like me.”
You raised an eyebrow. “That’s what I just said, yes.”
He grinned. “Say it again.”
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