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nikki freeman reqs open I CHEERED!!!

could we get meeting her during trivia night where things get pretty competitive between the two and they meet by the bar or the bathroom to settle the score

OR maybe reader stumbling by the music store to pick up a new hobby like the guitar or the flute or what have u and nikki charms it up with them or something fluffyyy thank u very much

⸝⸝ trivia night . . . nikki freeman

content && warnings. fluff, bear is present for some reason, "enemies" to lovers, 4,071 words

courrier. hi who wants to be on nikki's official taglist 🤞🤞 also, this is split into two parts with both scenarios because this is giving "enemies" to lovers & i absolutely adore that trope so!

part two

beep!

"i know the end by phoebe bridgers!" a woman yells less than two seconds into the song, hand still pressed hard on her teams' button.

the host pauses the song, eyes wide and lips curled into a smile, almost like he can't believe someone buzzed in the answer so quickly. he double checks that it's the correct title and artist just for good measure, and when it is, grabs his mic from the stand and confirms the answer with a confused-like lilt to his tone.

immediately, the woman's table bursts into a mix of loud cheers and glasses clinking together so harshly you're surprised the sound wasn't followed by a concerning crash of glass breaking. watching the scene, you sulk back into your chair and huff, disappointed at losing to anyone with a song that you know by heart. more so, you're bummed and a little frustrated that it's her again—the short, black-haired girl who looks like she knows more about literature and language than music.

this is the third time she's beat you to the buzzer, and every time you think you die inside a little. your hand was hovering over the button, too, and yet you still came a second late. you're sort of convinced she's cheating now, and you're starting to think that maybe her team doesn't even know that she's doing it.

and the worst part? she's maddeningly pretty.

despite your mood, you aren't able to take your eyes off of her and those pearly white teeth. she's sharing high-fives with her whole table, congratulating them even though they didn't contribute to the answers she's been spewing for the past three rounds at all.

"that's ridiculous," you grumble, shaking your head and taking a sip of your drink.

ariel, a friend of a friend, laughs softly next to you. "unbelievable, honestly," he adds on, arms crossed over his chest in defeat. he's definitely given in to the feeling at this point, just sitting back and watching his own team tank their reputation.

across the table, phoebe narrows her eyes. "dude, you've got to be kidding me. that girl has been killing us since before the first round even started."

you nod in agreement, laughing quietly when she grabs at her blonde hair and pretends to scream in frustration. at least she can find the good in this terrible, ego-ruining situation.

the host pauses for a few minutes, letting the song play for a minute or two to let everything air out—maybe the tension.

or maybe he forgot to pause it again.

whatever it is, you just wish he'd ask the next question because you need to prove that you're smart.

the dark-haired girl across the room is still laughing it up with her friends, throwing her hands up as if she's retelling a story that's ten times more annoying replaying it in her head now that she's really getting the chance to think about what happened.

there's a gleam in her eyes—bright and full—that you're hoping to get rid of with your next correct answer. well... okay, maybe not get rid of, because that makes you sound like an asshole. maybe just... make it dim for a couple of rounds as you start taking charge of the scoreboard and bring your team to victory.

you want those cheap, plastic crowns they give the winners more than anything.

for no reason but to have bragging rights!

"i'm never coming to trivia night again if they win," you mutter, eyeing the girl you've had it out for all night.

across the room, she grins.

the weird thing is, she's not grinning at her friends this time. no, she's not even looking at her friends, or anyone elses friends, she's looking directly at you. like she heard the whisper even from two tables over and it amused her more than words could explain, so she just had to smile and rub it in your face.

she looks like she's enjoying your sorrow, relishing in the fact that she's the one who's beating your ass and making you hunch over like some high school kid with the worst posture you'd ever seen.

you... dislike it.

because hate is too strong of a word to use on a pretty girl at your local bar's trivia night.

they host trivia every wednesday night, and usually it's pretty low stakes, but you love the rush of winning anyway. a couple college students, some older men and women, regulars you see on normal nights nursing beers while arguing about obscure movie facts. they never participate during trivia night, and yet they still argue in dark corners about the right and wrong answers. admittedly, you used to be one of those people.

but now? now you're out for blood, and you're prepared in every aspect of the word. tonight, however, has somehow turned you into a feral vampire. now that you realize you're against some real competition, you're sole purpose of being here tonight is beating her.

whatever her name is.

"alright, let's keep the ball rolling!" the host yells, earning a few shouts and claps from the trivia tables.

finally.

the girl across the room seems to drop her attention from you and focus back on the middle-aged host, his hair wild and his beard thick.

you're focused too, so much so you keep your eyes trained on her to... track her movements and possibly catch any cheating tactics... before tearing your eyes away and paying all your attention to the host. you're just trying to catch her cheating, you tell yourself.

the host clears his throat. "round four, general knowledge."

pssh, easy.

upon the host revealing the category, the rooms hushes to overall silence.

"question one," he begins, "which planet in our solar system has the most moons?"

every table immediately breaks out into inaudible whispers, muttering too loud every so often with the wrong answer that someone definitely locks in and presses their buzzer with in mind.

you ignore it. instead, you lean down to converse with your teammates. "jupiter, right?"

phoebe cringes in disbelief. "no, doofus, it's saturn."

"yeah," ariel confirms, ever the all-things-space-lover. "i'm pretty sure saturn passed it recently."

glancing around the table one last time, you make sure the two of them give you a reassuring nod before standing up straight and slamming your hard onto the buzzer with aggression you'd never known you were capable of before tonight.

the host turns, nodding over at your table for the answer.

but across the room, the dark-haired girl presses down on her buzzer at the exact same moment you do. instantly, you glare over at her table.

unable to tell which table buzzed in first, the host points at both tables and asks for the answer, willing to provide both teams with a point.

"saturn!" you call first, hoping you're quick enough to be the only table to get the point.

the shorter girl smirks smugly across the room, shrugs her shoulders like this entire thing is a joke to her, and leans over the table to make sure the host hears her answer clearly. "saturn. it has one hundred forty-six moons."

you frown at her addition of the exact number.

both teams score the point either way.

and still, that's not enough to satisfy your need to beat her at this stupid game.

upon the ding sounding on the stage and the scoreboard lighting up with a point for both table one and table four, the girl across the room grabs her glass and raises it toward your table. a peace offering, one might think. you, however, see it as mockery, and narrow your eyes competitively in response.

the host makes sure the score is correct before tapping his mic and asking the next question.

"question two," he hums. "who painted the starry night?"

ariel is pressing the button before you can even blink, taking your job for you, much to your dismay.

he whispers, "van gogh."

"obviously! but i could've pressed the button myself!" you reprimand him, swatting his hand away until he's practically melting into phoebe's lap in pain that's entirely fake and unnecessary.

you turn back to the host, glancing at your rival before parting your lips to speak.

"van gogh."

once again, both teams hit their buzzer at the same time.

and, again, both teams are correct.

you're pissed.

in a playful, competitive game-night way.

phoebe laughs from across your table, patting ariel's shoulder in utter amusement. you turn to face her and give her the biggest frown she thinks she's ever seen in all her years of living.

"i think there's steam pouring from your ears," ariel teases.

you can't help but laugh at him. despite that, you reach down to your fry basket and throw one square at his face, then one at phoebe's chest. they both eat them without a care in the world.

again, the scoreboard lights up with a point for two teams, and the host continues on with the questions.

"how many players are on the field for one soccer team during play?" the host inquires, the sound of him scratching his beard caught in the mic.

table four buzzes in.

ariel yells over the noise, "eleven!"

one point for your team, none for hers.

"what is the capital of new zealand?"

before your teammates even have time to speak or work out the answer with you, you're already pressing down on the buzzer, confidence flowing through your veins faster than it has all night.

"auckland," you answer, cocky.

bzz.

"incorrect!" the host hollers, twirling his finger in the air.

table one buzzes in right after.

this time, however, a guy stands up and throws an answer out there for his team. he looks a little rough around the edges, eyes darting to his teammates and back to the host like he's nervous or something. his cheeks are flushed, and he can't help but stare at your dark-haired rival after he yells, "wellington."

ding!

the host whistles. "wellington, correct!"

table one erupts into cheers and laughter of all kinds.

you simply drop your head onto the table dramatically and huff out a loud, long sigh of disappointment. giggles sound from the table across the room, and you can't help but peer up a little and catch your opponent fully laughing at your reaction. the guy next to her has his eyes bulging out of his head just looking at her, waiting for some sort of approval or praise or... whatever.

he looks very out of place in a space like this.

seconds later, the host winds up another question. "question four... in greek mythology, who flew too close to the sun?"

phoebe, pressing the button and whispering the answer, nods up at you to call it out.

"table four, your answer?"

quietly, you nervously answer, "...icarus?"

everyone at table one holds their breath for a few of the longest seconds ever, then the host checks his answer cards and steps up to the mic again, eyes drifting between the two tables that have been competing neck-and-neck since the start of the night.

"correct!" he calls. "one point for table four, which means they're tied with table one. twenty-seven to twenty-seven!"

the questions continue on before round four's almost ready to commence, and as both teams get the answer to the last question of round three, the host begins to realize the little rivalry between them.

more so, between you and... that girl.

"looks like we've got a battle brewing between table one and table four tonight," he sings.

your teammates laugh.

her team cheers obnoxiously over the music.

and, for the second time that night, the girl raises her glass towards your table. maybe as another peace offering, but you shoot it down with a cock of your eyebrow before finally sitting down.

she winks before you take your eyes off of her, and you can't help but feel your heart flutter a little inside your chest. she's annoyingly good—both at trivia and managing to get under the skin of a complete and total stranger who has been trying to beat her and her team since they walked in at the beginning of the night.

history, geography, music—she's managed to keep up with you in all of those categories, and it really doesn't matter which one she's put up against. every time you think you've finally managed to get her, she pulls some impossible answer out of absolutely nowhere. it's honestly impressive, but frustrating nonetheless.

"how do you know that?!" you call across the room after the correctly identifies a zoomed-in picture of a painting from some almost-prehistoric artist.

she cups her hands around her mouth before yelling.

"because i'm smart!"

ariel and phoebe immediately start booing. playfully, of course, because they're enjoying this banter almost just as much as you are.

the blonde girl across from you calls, "you're sexy, too!"

"thank you!" she yells back, laughing.

the third round ultimately ends in a tie.

a tie.

after an hour and a half of competition.

the host promises a sudden-death tiebreaker after a short break—"to give time to cool everyone down," he says—and the entire room explodes into conversation. everyone starts moving out of their seats, going to the bathroom, wandering outside for some air or a quick cigarette break, talking with their competitors.

everyone's just doing whatever they can do to get their minds off the showdown that awaits them after the break.

after some careful deliberation, you decide that you need a drink. and a few minutes away from the mess of food and drinks that already occupy the table, all done by the two idiots across the table from you.

you're only kidding, of course, because they're your idiots, and they've been helping keep the score up.

"okay," you clap your hands together, pushing your chair out from the table to stand up. "i'm going to grab myself a well-deserved drink."

ariel glances over, fry halfway into his mouth. "get me one?"

"me too," phoebe adds.

rolling your eyes, you wave them off.

"i think you guys have had enough for tonight," you decide playfully, "i'm officially cutting you off."

both of them groan in faux-annoyance before waving you off with their tongues sticking out, ariel throwing up his middle finger at you once you turn your back.

you rub your forehead on the short walk there, laughing quietly at just how ridiculous and wild this night has become. what you thought walking in tonight would just be a normal trivia night has become one you'll remember for the years to come. it's fun, you can't lie, and definitely one of the better nights you've had as of late.

and maybe you're a little grateful for the dark-haired girl who's been beating your ass all night. she's a good competitor, someone on your teams level, and your level of respect for her has only grown as the minutes passed lighting quick tonight. you, however, need a moment away from that headspace to calm yourself down and collect your thoughts for the next round. sudden-death is pretty tense, although you've never went up against a team who's pushed yours into it.

luck needs to be on your side tonight for this to work out in your teams favor. you need table one to slip up on their answer and lose.

you need this—

oh.

so much for clearing your head.

there your opponent is, leaning against the bar.

she's already looking at you, smile widening at the perplexed look on your face.

"fancy seeing you here," she chirps.

you let out a laugh, filled with disbelief. "oh, hell no."

the girl's brows furrow, jaw dropping slightly as she turns a little, just enough to look at you but still lean comfortably against the bar. "what? what's with that look on your face, you weirdo?"

"you've spent the last hour and a half making my life miserable!" you exclaim, though a smile still manages to creep on your face.

she's even prettier up close.

she places a hand over her heart, feigning offense.

frowning playfully, she says, "miserable? i thought we were having a little bit of fun."

you scoff.

"we?"

the dark-haired girl shrugs. "sure."

she grabs her drink from the bar, taking a sip without breaking the eye contact you were somehow brave enough to trigger. even then, that pretty smile never leaves her mouth.

neither does the smugness in her expression.

"you looked like you were enjoying yourself," she comments, setting her glass back down. she tilts her head, eyes flicking down once before returning to your eyes.

you shift your weight, one hand in your pocket, the other hanging by your side. "yeah, i was enjoying you getting simple answers wrong."

she rolls her eyes.

"okay, auckland."

a giggle bubbles up in the back of her throat.

this girl is really laughing at her own joke like she's the funniest person to ever walk the earth. and she's laughing right in your face! god, this girl is evil in more ways than the ones you've seen.

a beat passes.

then two. and you're not even attempting to walk away.

neither of you move even an inch away from each other, which is weird. because if someone had asked you ten minutes ago, you'd have said that this girl is the absolute bain of your existence and the most irritating girl you'd ever laid eyes on.

yet standing here, away from the noise and overwhelmingly competitive game, she seems... different. still cocky, and impossible, and annoying, but somehow a little more likeable. she's more real this close, warmer in the aspect of her personality and the sweetness laced in the sound of her laughs and voice. maybe she isn't as evil and frustrating as you'd originally thought.

she notices the switch in your demeanor, too. how you let yourself relax a little more, shoulders not drawn as tight as they were before. your eyes have now gone back to their original size, which scratches her belief that they might be stuck in a permanently thin line after you go home tonight and try shutting your eyes to sleep. if you even do, seeing as you're full of knowledge.

"are you always this competitive?" she asks suddenly.

you blink, eyes flicking back to her. "only when i see someone as real competition."

she nods, satisfied.

"good answer," she adds.

"and you?" you fire right after, tilting your head in the same way she did at the beginning of your conversation. she notices, her lips curling a little higher. "what are you like?"

the girl laughs, and you let out a small chuckle.

"oh, i'm awful."

go figure. she's been killing every team at this bar all night with her endless knowledge of all things weird, crazy, and literally insane. it's been funny watching how she celebrates, though, so that makes up for it.

you nod. "that much is obvious," you reply. "i don't even know why i asked."

"see?" she says through another round of giggles, smile bright and wide. "this is why i like you."

huh.

she likes you.

"what?" you ask, smile a mix of confusion and amusement.

the girl simply shrugs in response, brushing the words off like she hadn't even said them in the first place. it makes you laugh again, and only then do you realize you'd never even caught her name in the past five minutes that you've been brewing a conversation up with her.

maybe it's because she's your opponent, but still, that's basic manners, and you're not trying to seem like an asshole.

you lean a little harder against the bar, picking at a loose thread in your jeans. "i just realized i never caught your name... and that's always pretty important during conversations."

her eyes drift back to yours, widening for a moment like she just realized.

"oh shit," she gasps. "you're totally right."

"i tend to be," you tease.

she rolls her eyes but continues nonetheless. "i'm nikki."

nikki.

even her name is gorgeous.

you nod. "i'm y/n. it's nice to meet you, nikki."

"you too, y/n."

the way she says it makes you cringe, cheeks flushing. "awhh, don't say it like that!"

nikki cocks a brow in confusion, and yet she still laughs and physically recoils a little. "like what? i didn't even say it in any sort of way!"

"yes, you did!"

the shorter girl lets her jaw drop in confusion.

when you open your eyes again, she's already looking directly at you. and jeez, her eyes are so mesmerizing to stare into.

you just stare for a second.

then she laughs.

slowly, the moment passes. and before you know it, her drink is gone and you're both still staring at each other with miniature stars in your eyes. the music continues to play through the overhead speakers, the trivia break still ongoing as people continue to whisper and gossip about which team they think will win.

you've found yourself to be quite comfortable in the presence of your so-called rival, which is starting to become less weird as the seconds pass. she's not half as bad as you thought she was.

"y'know, everyone else got annoyed and gave up in the middle of round two because we were both, like, ten points ahead of all of them," she comments, nodding over at the half-empty tables in the middle of the room.

and it's true, everyone but your two tables gave up because they knew they'd be just be fighting themselves if they even attempted to continue.

her eyes meet yours again.

"you keep firing back," she finalizes. "that's why i like you."

for the first time all night, you don't have a comeback.

render yourself speechless.

literally.

nikki notices without any struggle.

because of course she does.

a slow grin spreads across her lips, smug and knowing.

"wow," she hums.

"no. don't say anything."

she shrugs and says something anyway. "you're speechless."

you shake your head. "i'm not."

"oh, you totally are."

her response and relentless elicits a groan from you, feigning annoyance as you throw your head back before your eyes return to hers.

nikki laughs again, and it's so nice.

she's so nice.

which is unfortunate, because now you're starting to notice things. the way she leans closer when she talks, just so you can hear her over the music. the little beauty mark just below her left eye. the fact that her confidence somehow feels more charming than arrogant when you're standing this close. how she's likeable in more ways than one now that you've got a little glimpse of her true personality beyond the competitive nature of it.

neither of you notices the host calling people back until someone shouts that the tiebreaker is officially starting and that everyone needs to get back to their tables to watch the showdown.

dramatic, now that you're thinking about it.

nikki pushes off the bar.

"that's our cue," she hums, sweet.

you point at her, a little closer than you were before. "if i lose, i'm putting the blame entirely on you."

"if you lose, it's because i'm smarter."

rolling your eyes, you step away from the bar.

"keep dreaming, nikki."

she starts walking backwards toward her table, eyes still locked on you. she's moving slowly, almost like she doesn't want the moment to end just yet. the feeling is mutual, and you're sure she notices.

"you know," she says, "if i win, i think you owe me a drink."

"and if i win?"

nikki smiles, bright and beautiful.

"then i guess i owe you one," she shrugs.

the host calls everyone to attention a few seconds after she spins on her heel and turns her back to you. at the announcers voice, the room quiets once more, buzzing with tension—but a little less now.

nikki takes her seat, still watching you from across the room with that permanent smirk of hers.

she's still glowing.

and now you're not so sure if you want to beat her anymore, not sure if you even want those cheap plastic crowns that the winners get every thursday. maybe you just want this night to keep going, maybe never end.

maybe you just want to make sure you see next thursday.

and the one after that.

and after that.

and maybe even between trivia nights.

tags. @saintshighway @nokpopnolifee @fruityg0rl @meiyokstarr

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