───── DRINK TO IMPRESS ✦ RIWOO 🥃
( 𝓢 ) ﹕ riwoo would go great lengths to ask you out, even if it meant he had to put his alcohol tolerance to the test.
EVENT OF THE NIGHT ⌕ ( riwoo x fem ! reader ) ! %% HOW TO GET HER ATTENTION ╱ university au, romance, classmates 2 …? ∿ drinking, teasing, slightly suggestive ( ? ) 𓂃 # : BEWARE OF SPILLED DRINKS ! 🍹 TIME&EFFORT ───── 2.3K+ ( 2329 WORDS! )
BARTENDER’S ORDERS ──── HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR LOVELY RIULIU 🤍 my other oct twin ! SO WOO riwoo fic debut !!!! i was inspired by with boynextdoor’s uni video … riwoo drinking that sophora tea… if you know, you know ☺️
❛❛ 💬 ❞ 𝗦𝗢𝗣𝗛 > 𓂃 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 ⋮ 🪽
“SHOOT YOUR SHOT!”
Those words continued to ring in Riwoo’s head, his footsteps feeling more heavy as he walked towards you—the person he’s been helplessly pining for—from a safe, comfortable distance. His footsteps felt heavier, like he was dragging his nerves along with him.
Despite Jaehyun’s mini pep talk, which was more less of a conversation and more of a shove into a certain direction, Riwoo still found himself wanting to back out. He wasn’t even near you yet, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from spiraling any further.
The whole situation was almost laughable—the idea of walking straight into potential embarrassment, knowing fully how his overthinking could turn even the simplest interaction into a pure, full blown disaster.
But, something about this moment made everything feel different. Maybe it was the pounding music rattling through the room, the present scent of all alcohol lingering in the air, or the sight of you—absentmindly swirling your drink, seated alone, looking as effortlessly breathtaking as usual under the dim lights.
Whatever it was, it gave him the push he had needed since the first year of university.
By the time his thoughts had fully caught up, he had already slid into the empty stool beside you. You glanced over, not entirely turning your body, your eyes flickering with subtle curiosity as you watched him adjust himself in his seat.
"Didn’t you have a friend keeping you company?" Riwoo asked, and the second the words left his mouth, regret settled in. Really? That was the first sentence he was going to say for the first impression? Bringing up someone else while trying to get your attention was definitely not the smoothest move.
But then again, he had no idea what he was doing. He had never done this before.
“She’s probably sucking someone’s face off right now,” you replied dryly, lifting your drink for another sip. Your eyes crinkled slightly as you recalled your friend disappearing with some guy you could’ve sworn you’d never seen before—despite her insisting you had. "So, she’s off-limits."
Riwoo's eyes widened, his hands flying up in defense. “Oh—no, no! I wasn’t asking to see if I could shoot my shot with her!”
“So what are you here for?” you raised your brow slightly, maintaining eye contact as you sipped your drink. “For a drink or for me?”
“Well,” he stammered, unable to form any words—his face burning up by the second.
Yeah, this was officially going downhill.
Your first impression of him? He could only imagine how terrible it is now.
But instead of pushing him any further, you simply let out a small hum of acknowledgement, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. His hair was a dark ginger, his bangs somehow managing to look both messy and effortlessly put together at the same time. He wore a clean white button-up, layered with a maroon and white striped vest, and a black tie neatly in place. The look was completed by black slacks and polished shoes.
And he didn’t have glasses on this time.
It took you a second, but then it clicked. This was the same guy you’ve always seen sit a row next to you, in the far corner close to the wall—his glasses always perked up, furiously typing on his computer as he tried to keep up with the lectures given. And he looked even better than he usually looks.
"Riwoo?" you muttered, watching the way his eyes lit up at the sound of his name coming from your lips. You weren’t entirely sure why you even felt the need to confirm it—you already knew his name. You had asked that very same friend, the one who had abandoned you here, about him before.
And it’s easy to know faces you want to remember.
"You’re in my classes."
"That’s right," Riwoo nodded, a small rush of satisfaction bubbling inside him. It was stupid, really—getting so giddy over something as simple as you knowing who he was. But he couldn’t help it. The fact that his crush was even aware of his existence felt like a win in itself.
He looked like he wanted to say more, lips parting slightly as if the words were right there—but nothing came out. Coming up with conversations on the spot was hard enough, but in front of you? The person he had been wanting to talk to for so long? It felt almost impossible.
You took his silence as the initiative to look at the drink in his hand–the glass being filled with little to (what you presumed was) no alcohol and ice. Without much thought, you signaled the bartender over. As they made their way toward you, you turned back to Riwoo.
"What drink do you like?"
"Huh?" He blinked, looking thoroughly confused—like he had just been yanked back into reality.
"Tequila? Rum?" You listed off a few options, tilting your head slightly. "Or whiskey?"
His brows furrowed. "What for?"
"Can’t you see?" You gestured toward his nearly empty glass. "I want to buy you a drink. Consider it a little reward for coming over here to keep me company—or, well, at least for greeting me."
"Oh, no—it's really fine—"
"I insist," you cut him off smoothly before turning to the bartender. "Two glasses of whiskey, please."
Shouldn’t he be mentioning how he wasn’t an alcohol person?
Riwoo barely had time to protest before the order was placed, and by then, there was no stopping it. Especially not when your face lit up with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with yourself for managing to get him something. He could only mirror your expression, a bit sheepishly, before taking a sip of what little remained in his glass. The lingering tang of fruit flavored his tongue, a definite strong contrast from what he imagined the whiskey would be like.
Despite Riwoo’s earlier nerves, conversation between you two flowed effortlessly. What started as general questions quickly unraveled into shared interests, then into personal stories that had you both laughing and nodding along in understanding. You were so caught up in talking that neither of you even noticed the two glasses of whiskey being placed on the bar until the bartender cleared their throat, snapping you both out of it.
You murmured a quick thanks before sliding one of the glasses toward Riwoo.
He hesitated, his fingers wrapping around the glass but not lifting it just yet. His expression wavered between gratitude and uncertainty as he stared into the liquid, almost as if he were debating whether or not he wanted to drink it.
Did you accidentally get a drink that he didn’t like?
"You know," Riwoo finally spoke, his words trailing slightly, "I wouldn’t have expected you to buy me a drink. I thought I’d be the one getting you one—for, you know, taking up your time."
"A guy deserves a treat every now and then, don’t they?" you teased, nodding toward the drink in his hand. "Consider that my token of gratitude for saving me from a boring night."
“Well, since I am also grateful for you for saving my night,” Riwoo said with more confidence in matching your energy. “I will take this drink gladly.”
He lifted the glass, feeling the cold liquid brush against his lips before he finally took a sip. It was strong, leaving a burning sensation down his throat. The aftertaste left a lingering spice, like some kind of cinnamon. And before you could press him with another sly remark that might break the rhythm, he downed the rest in one go.
It wasn’t a good idea—but it felt like the right one.
“That was fast,” you said, eyebrows raised, still swirling the ice in your own glass.
“It’s nothing,” he boasted, though the faint rasp in his voice betrayed him. “I could be here all night—drinking—if it meant I could talk to you.”
“Really?” you leaned in slightly, more amused than ever. It wasn’t hard to get a read on him—the way his throat tightened, how his fingers tugged at his tie, loosening it just enough to reveal a glimpse of his collarbone.
You smiled, deciding you wanted to see just how far this could go.
And so you ordered more. Only because he said he could handle more of it.
And he was willingly drinking it, still determined to maintain the conversation even if he felt himself getting more dizzy by the second.
“You should stop ordering those drinks,” he slurred, setting down the third glass you’d gotten him. His arm slid onto the countertop, head resting against his palm. Still, when you laughed, something about the sound seemed to soothe him more than the alcohol ever could.
“I wasn’t planning on getting you another anyway,” you chuckled, pulling his half-empty glass closer to your side. You tilted your head, watching his lashes flutter as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “Who told you to drink all of it, huh?”
You leaned forward, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. His glossy eyes followed your movements, lingering on you like he was studying an art piece he couldn’t look away from.
“Wanted to impress you,” he murmured, his slow gaze finally meeting yours. And if your heart hadn’t fluttered before, it definitely did now.
“I think you’ve done more than enough,” you said, smiling.
Before you could get another word in, you heard hurried footsteps from behind. You turned just in time to see someone rushing toward the bar—someone who, judging by the worry etched across his face even under the dim lights, definitely knew Riwoo.
“Riwoo?” You later realized Jaehyun called, his voice laced with mild panic as he finally reached his friend, who was now slouching even deeper into his seat. Jaehyun looked over at you, offering an apologetic smile that seemed just as flustered as he was.
“Oh, I’m so sorry you had to see him like this,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s not usually... the type to drink this much.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” you said, fixing your posture. “Do you guys have to go?”
“I don’t wanna go,” Riwoo whined, though his arm was already slung lazily over Jaehyun’s shoulder—not really putting up much of a fight anyway. “I wanna stay.”
“Y/N’s not going anywhere,” he scoldingly whispered at Riwoo, his voice still loud enough for you to hear. You could only smile at Riwoo’s drunk tendencies, as if that added another charm to him.
“So why do I have to go?” he muttered, looking at you as if waiting for your approval to stay.
“Because,” Jaehyun grunted, tightening his grip on Riwoo, who was now practically melting into his shoulder, “you’re going to worry her if you don’t leave now.”
“But—”
“Listen to him, Riwoo,” you interjected gently, saving Jaehyun from another round of slurred protest. Your tone carried enough softness to calm him, and much to your quiet relief, Riwoo fell silent—though a faint pout lingered on his lips.
While Jaehyun was adjusting himself another time, you quickly took the chance to signal to the bartender for a paper and a pen. In quick action, you scribbled down your number along with a short message, folding it twice before standing up from your seat.
As Jaehyun steadied himself with Riwoo now half lifted off the stool, you stepped closer, smelling the hint of whiskey even from where you stood. You slipped the folded paper into the pocket of Riwoo’s jacket, fingerings brushing against the fabric long enough for him to notice.
“Get home safe, okay?” you whispered, stepping back to try to meet his eyes again. His half-lidded eyes tried lingering on you, the alcohol really setting in. His face was still flushed, but now there was a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips.
Turning to Jaehyun, you gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry for getting him to drink—I didn’t know he was that much of a lightweight.”
“It’s okay,” Jaehyun chuckled. “He sometimes tries to deny he isn’t one, so I can’t blame you for not knowing at first.”
“Yeah,” you said, easing back into your seat. You pointed toward Riwoo’s pocket, looking at Jaehyun. “And let him know that I want him to contact me later, okay?”
Jaehyun nodded, giving you a quick bid of goodbye as he dragged Riwoo away from the scene. You watched as their figures blurred into the crowd, staring until they finally disappeared from your sight.
Letting out a small sigh, you turned back to your drink that was still untouched from earlier. Without waiting any longer, you downed it in one quick motion, the burning sensation present yet not entirely unpleasant.
“Hey—sorry for leaving you hanging,” your friend’s voice broke through your thoughts. She placed a hand on your back before sliding into the seat beside you, her original lipstick color now barely visible, her expression dreamy and content.
You continued studying her for a brief moment, obviously noticing her faint smile that paired with her disheveled hair. You laughed softly to yourself, clearly knowing just by the way her eyes glittered with satisfaction that she just had the best time of her life.
“You know, I really wish I was you tonight.”
“Did you meet someone?” your friend asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting that from you.
“Might’ve.”
“Was it Riwoo?” she guessed immediately—of course she did. He was the only guy you’d ever mentioned with even a hint of interest before.
“Might’ve,” you repeated, unable to hide your grin as she smirked at you.
“I didn’t know you could be sneaky like that,” she teased, giving your shoulder a playful nudge.
“You’re not the only one,” you shot back, pushing the glass aside before standing up. “But, let’s leave this party.”
“Wait, why?” she asked, visibly confused.
“The party isn’t fun anymore.”
And she didn’t need to ask further.
She already knew your reason.
The party only wasn’t fun anymore because Riwoo wasn’t here.
‘💬’ — guys i lowk didn’t proofread this…
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