enhawaria

[enhawaria]

jungwon bf headcannon!

【 ## 】 — PAIRING … 양정원 x fem!reader ⋆ slight angst, fluff // … 1.6k — enhypen masterlist ˖ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

note. im tweaking i miss blonde jungwon every day. blonde jungwon come home. anyways comment & ask to be apart of enha taglist!!

01. very commonly annoys you like a kid

like that one en o’clock ep where he was repeating how bot like sunoo was talking, that’s exactly how i imagine him doing it… you would literally be on the phone with your mom talking about how jungwon spilled his drink everywhere the other day and he’s next to you repeating everything you say in that purposefully annoying high pitch nasally voice he does (it's because he’s embarrassed but still)

02. "pda" is reserved for the two of you

i don't really think he's super open to pda (even in front of his members). everyone kinda forgets you two are dating sometimes because you guys always talk/act like you're best friends, but does liiittle things to remind them. like if he thinks you're being really cute, he'll do little grabby hands in your direction with a wide smile. or if you're playing games with him and his members and you win, he'll cheer like he won that round and tackle you in a hug before he remembers where he is and locks in

but just because he isn't a fan of pda doesn't mean he doesn't like showing you off. he WILL comment on all of your posts with thirst emojis and he DOES talk about you all the time like he talks about jay... and what...

03. reminds you to do the tiniest things

his favorite would be when you guys call after he gets back home from late practice. your face is always half smooshed in the pillow while you lay on your stomach, and you're trying so hard not to fall asleep; he can't help but coo at you. sure enough, after about ten minutes into him telling you about how sunghoon accidentally pantsed him at practice, he hears soft snores coming from the other end of the line.

now, we all know he's a menace... especially when he's immediately calling out your name and getting zero response back. so while on call, he moves to your messages and starts spamming random letters and words to get your phone buzzing as if it were an alarm

"did i fall asleep?" you said, groaning as you woke up.

"charge your phone before you go to sleep, babe."

"... you disrupted my sleep for that?"

"i can't text you good morning if your phone is dead, stupid."

04. likes to keep you on your toes

sometimes, he’ll pretend like you two are meeting for the first time all over again when you’re in old familiar places. like the coffee shop where you two first met, for example. he whispered a little, “go find a table, i’ll order for you, babe,” when you arrived at the cute little place. you obviously didn’t think much about it (who would), so you leave to find an empty table for two

he was taking a little longer than expected, so you pulled out your laptop and started your work in your lucky spot. that was, until you felt a soft tap on your shoulder

“excuse me maam?” your boyfriend said with the widest smile ever, holding two drinks and a pastry. you smiled and rolled your eyes, but still hummed in response.

“i couldn’t help but notice you from across the shop and i must say… you are the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen…” by now, you're fully giggling

“did you get this drink for me, cute boy?”

his usual introverted exterior faded and looked to the older lady at the table over who was watching the entire interaction and whispered, “oh my god she called me cute.” you had to break the act then and there because you couldn’t stop laughing

05. tries not to show you how much he hates leaving you when you he goes on long tours until the very end

the whole day was absolutely normal. you were over at his dorm to help him pack, sitting on his bed side by side with a random movie playing. you’re both folding clothes, joking around, tackling each other-- the usual. you almost forgot he was leaving for so long

it was until he was fully packed and you had to leave for the night when you remembered that your boyfriend was leaving you for almost half a year. he genuinely couldn’t let you go, it was like it physically hurt him to remove himself from you. he walked you to his door all while holding your waist from behind with his head on your shoulder.

he turns you around and hugs you a little too long as he whispers “i’ll text you the second i land, my love.” he was so good at distracting you that you forgot that he hated this just as much as you did

06. extremely clingly when he’s tired

like, he whines whenever you leave the bed (like this: 0:30). he showers for a really long time cause he likes to just stand in the hot water, so he doesn’t like doing everything afterwards by himself-- especially when he's already exhausted. definitely prefers sitting on the edge of the bed while you blow dry his hair; his hands are always loosely wrapped around your waist while his head’s resting on your stomach. when you turn around to go put the dryer back in the bathroom, he literally pulls you back to him, gets up from the bed, and walks to the bathroom with you with his head on your shoulder. when i say he’s clingy, he’s CLINGYY

07. so random, but he would be so invested in reality tv

i literally don’t know why this is coming into mind for him, but his love for reality tv is one of his biggest secrets. he doesn't even like it for the messyness... (ok maybe a little bit), but mostly because he loves watching it with you

he wouldn’t understand a lot because he’s such a T, but he would put in his two cents as a logical thinker for sure. for example he would say something like:

“i think he’s strategic with picking the girl, but he’s such an asshole for leading the other one on because i hate when ugly men are rude to-- (etc. etc.)” he would have such strong opinions on everything, and it always makes you laugh at how invested he gets

he would be GAGGED if something doesn’t happen the way he was planning. like, he stands up from the couch with his hands on his head and constantly looking from the tv to you, kind of gagged. has to pause every three seconds to be like “literally what is WRONG with this person” and explain to you what he would do in their shoes. surprisingly, it always ends up causing some of the deepest conversations between you two (he made you swear not to talk about it afterwards)

08. he’s such a blanket hog (he makes up for it by pressing kisses all over your face when you wake up annoyed and is quite literally at your every beck and call for the day)

09. locks INNN around your parents

they definitely know how weird and funny he is, because one) you tell them a new story about jungwon all the time, and two) he doesn’t hide it. he’s just more respectful around them as opposed to when he’s in the comfort of either of your places.

for example: on a regular day, he would open the car door for you. around your parents, he would open the car door for you, hold your hand for balance, and then go to your moms door and do the same for her.

on a regular day, his hand would be casually resting on your thigh as you both quietly talk about anything and everything. around your parents, his hand would either be holding yours or respectfully resting behind your chair.

he’s extremely giving to your parents because, well, they raised the love of his life. and for that he’s eternally grateful (they also think jungwon is the cutest man on this planet)

10. always so active and takes you everywhere with him

this is actually the most random jungwon thought i've ever had, but i feel like he would be such a walking freak. like he'll show up at your door at 2 am because he can't sleep and beg you to walk with him to the nearest convenience store to get a late night snack and talk til morning kind of walking freak. like a "let's wake up bright and early and walk a mile to try actual good matcha" kind of walking freak. he's loowkey an explorer and loves whatever he's exploring a lot more when he's with you

11. he never raises his voice if you guys disagree

if it’s a play argument, he will talk out of his ass just to rage bait

but if it's a real disagreement, i think he’s very level headed. it's not hard for someone to lash out if they're dealing with as much stuff as he is, so the fact that he never does? it’s admirable

he’s a very firm believer in “him and you vs. the problem” as opposed to a “you vs. him” approach. he would sit you down and talk about it the second he notices an actual unpleasant shift in your mood, eliminating any potential resentment from forming in the first place

also, i don’t think he would use his logical thinking against you. if you’re more of an emotional person, he would adjust to the way you think and listen-- like really listen-- so he fully understands where you’re coming from

making you feel dumb is the last thing he would ever want, because everything you feel is the most valid thing on this earth. you are his number one person, and he will never let you forget it

네이 말하다! i lowk hate this....... IM SORRY I WILL BE BETTER I SWER it just became a random jungwon brain dump omg. also can u tell the reality tv one is my favorite im obsessed with love island rn

current taglist! @yunjiiin @rikiiimeow

[enhawaria]

WANNA BE YA BOY

- 西村力 x f!reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖ bsf!niki, fluff, crack, suggestive ⤹ now playing

made a spelling mistake on the last one don’t end me 😔💔 n sorry for how blurry it gets i literally dk why - hope u enjoyed!

[enhawaria]

texts with bsf! ni-ki ✶⋆.˚ || pt. 2!

───────── best friend niki x reader || fluff, crack, wholesome, kinda suggestive (they're getting more bold with each other!!), mentions of drinking and alcohol || stuff actually happens in this one !!!! [ ⌗ read part 1 here !! ]

a/n: THE PART TWO IS HEREEEE ngl im usually sooooo dang bad with part2s for my fics so its kind of a miracle that y'all are getting this let alone so quickly as well but .... what can i say i love niki and this dynamic and texts are so fun (and much easier) to make !!! hope u all enjoy ~~~ i tried to make this one more eventful lol

taglist for niki fics! <333 - @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @charsworld96 @jenjnk @nocturnebite @nodoubtily @teireiii @starniras

[enhawaria]

SBS Inkigayo 250608

[enhawaria]

kiss it better - nishimura riki 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“In which reader teaches her dear friend how to treat a woman right. Or in which reader teaches ni-ki how to give head” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ Content: +18MDNI

fem! reader x ni-ki, friends to lovers, usage of riki and ni-ki, oral sex (f. rec), masturbation (f), reader is in charge, fingering, spitting, face riding, needy! ni-ki, pussy drunk! ni-ki (he’s a mess) grinding, coming undone, slight voye.

hate comments will be deleted and blocked !! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

Summer trip was always fun with your friend group. But this year was one of your favourites, there was nothing like spending the day on a tanning bed beneath the burning sun, chewing on fresh watermelon after a dive in the beautiful clear waters of the ocean, surrounded by your favorite people in the whole world. 

The hotel pool glowed under the summer night, wrapped in string lights and the kind of drunken laughter that only came when everyone forgot about the world outside vacation. Music pulled from a speaker, bass steady. The air smelled like sunscreen and chlorine and you were tasting something fruity on your tongue from the drink you just finished. 

You had just slid back into the water, the chill clinging to your skin as you moved through the shallow end. Your bikini hugged your body, still damp from earlier, and your hair stuck to your shoulders in soft waves. Most of your friends where on the deck now, draped across pool chairs or sprawled on towels, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth and yelling about nonsense. 

Ni-ki was the only one still on the water. 

He floated on his back with his eyes closed, legs lazily moving to keep him afloat, looking so relaxed like he didn’t have a single care in the world. So him. 

You swam closer, water swirling around your waist, and nudged his side with your hand. 

“You’ll drown” 

“Let me.” He murmured, not even opening his eyes “Feels like a good way to go.” 

A small laugh left your lips. 

“Dramatic.” 

Ni-ki opened one eye then, just enough to flash you a lazy smile 

“Says the girl who almost cried when we splashed on her drink.” 

“That was an expensive drink.” 

“You’re expensive” He shot back, quickly. 

That caught you off guard, and you blinked. 

It wasn’t even that serious, just Ni-ki being Ni-ki. But still, it stuck. Hit something strange and sudden in your chest. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his gaze lingered a bit too long before flicking away. You’d always thought he was cute. Objectively, anyways. It wasn’t like you were blind, Ni-ki was tall and lean and had that perfect face that made even simple hoodies and cotton sweatpants look good. He was your friend, sure, you’d known him for years now. The same friend that threw up on your lap in Sunghoon’s backseat last summer, the same friend that stole your notes because he never did his homework on time. But that never stopped the thoughts that stuck in your head sometimes, thoughts you never let stay. 

But for some reason, tonight felt different. 

He ducked under the water suddenly, disappearing from your view. You barely had time to react before strong hands grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you with a splash, so easily. 

You shrieked, laughing, trying to escape. 

“Ni-ki!” 

He just laughed, breathless and smug as you turned and splashed him back, right in the face. You were both soaked now, your bikini clinging tighter to your tanned skin, water streaming down your neck. 

Ni-ki was still close, enough to feel the warmth radiating off him even in the cool water. His hands already dropped from your waist, but you could still feel them. 

You felt your breathing shake as your eyes met his. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite name. Like heavy and charged. 

Then he blinked, swam backwards, and said casually. 

“Alright. I’m bored.” 

You barely had time to ignore the feeling before Heeseung called out from his chair, arms spread like he was announcing something big. 

“Let’s play a game.” He said “Truth or dare.” 

Jake made a face. 

“We always do that. I’ve lost the count on the amount of times I’ve licked Sunghoon’s neck” 

Your friends laughed at him, and you chuckled under your breath. 

“Never have I ever then. Loser has to buy all our drinks tomorrow.” 

Groans followed, but no one said no. You all gathered near the edge, some wrapped in towels and half-drunk already. 

You ended up sitting next to Ni-ki, still damp, still trying to ignore the echo of his hands on your waist. 

The game started innocent as always. 

“Never have I ever lied to a date.” 

“Never have I ever faked an orgasm”

“Never have I ever cheated” 

The group slowly loosened between sips, laughter and more laughter, getting louder and messier by the second. 

“Okay, I have one.” Heeseung then leaned in, grinning. “Never have I ever gone down on someone” 

A few hands went up, including yours. 

You didn’t look around, didn’t think much of it, but then you noticed that Ni-ki didn’t move. 

He just sat there, calm, fingers tapping slowly on the ground. Then you turned your head. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

He looked at you, then shrugged. 

“Yeah.” 

Heeseung just stared. 

“Wait wait wait - you’ve never gone down on a girl?” 

Ni-ki shook his head. 

“Nope.” 

Sunoo gasped, hand flying to his chest 

“What? Riki, oh my god!” 

Heeseung was already laughing 

“Bro. That’s practically illegal.”

Jake leaned in like he was interrogating him. 

“You scared of it or something?” 

Ni-ki scoffed and pushed him. 

“Shut up.” 

Sunghoon smirked

“So, what’s the reason?” 

Ni-ki leaned back on his elbows, his expression unreadable. He didn’t look embarrassed, but he didn’t look thrilled by their teasing either. You didn’t expect it, to be honest, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a playboy, but he wasn’t a saint either, you’d seen him a thousand times shoving down his tongue in random girls throats at parties. 

“I just haven’t found the right person yet.” 

That only made the boys laugh louder. Heeseung clutched his chest and someone said something about how he was a “certified mouth virgin”. 

You watched Ni-ki stay still through it all, quiet. 

Something in your chest pulled tight, and you sat up a little straighter. 

“Okay, enough.” You said, cutting through the noise “What are we? Twelve?” 

The group quieted a little, eyes turning to you. 

“He’s just waiting for the right person, that’s not a bad thing.”  You glanced at Ni-ki, met his eyes again. He looked back at you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or grab your hand. “It’s not that deep. Honestly, most guys think they know how to do it, just doing it doesn’t mean you’re good at it.” 

Ni-ki still hadn’t looked away from you. 

But as the group moved on, laughing at the next prompt, the air between you didn’t shift back. It felt heavier.

The hotel was quiet now, after the chaos of earlier. You could still hear faint laughter from somewhere down the hall, someone’s speaker muffled behind the closed doors, but for the most part, you started to settle. 

Your skin smelled like sunscreen and coconut from your body spray as you stood at the sink in your oversized tee and underwear, hair half-damp and twisted into a towel, the bathroom mirror foggy from your shower. Your limbs ached in a satisfying way that only summer could bring. 

You were just about to crawl into bed when the knock came. 

One, two, three soft raps, hesitant. 

You froze for a second, staring at your reflection wondering who could it be this late at night. Then you padded across the room and peeked through the peephole, opening the door without thinking. 

Ni-ki stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, hair damp and curling slightly around his ears. 

“Hey.” He said. 

You blinked, a bit surprised about his visit and the unsettling look on his face. 

“Hey. Everything okay?” 

He nodded, but didn’t move. 

Then you stepped back, opening the door a little wider.

“Wanna come in?” 

He didn’t answer, just walked in, quiet, his presence filling your small hotel room instantly. You shut the door behind him, suddenly too aware of how you were dressed, and the silence between you two. 

He looked around, then sat on the edge of the bed like he’d done it a thousand times before. 

But now it felt different. 

“You good?” You asked again, crossing your arms trying to play it cool. 

He nodded again, slower this time. 

“Yeah. I just… couldn’t sleep.” 

You leaned against the dresser, watching him. He was staring at the carpet, then at his hands. Then up at you. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He admitted and your heart thudded. 

“What part?” 

“That it’s not about doing it, it’s about knowing how to treat someone.” He paused. “No one’s ever said that to me before.” 

You swallowed, his voice was lower now, like each word was deliberate. 

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you” you said. 

“I wasn’t embarrassed.” He replied “I just… never talked about it out loud.” 

There was a long pause, and you waited, but he didn’t look away. 

“I think that’s why I came here.” 

Your pulse skipped. 

“To talk?” you asked, even thought you were sure that wasn’t what he meant. 

He smiled a little but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Kind of.” 

You stepped a little closer before you could overthink it, the soft carpet sinking under your feet. You were standing between his knees now, and he was looking up at you from the edge of the bed. 

“Riki” You said softly “Why did you come here?” 

You knew the answer.

But the silence that followed cracked open something between you, something thick and heavy and real. You felt it settle over your shoulders, wrap around your ribs. Your skin prickled with awareness, his breath, your proximity, the weight of what you weren’t saying.

“Because I want to know what it’s like.”

Your breathed deep. 

“What what’s like?”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. 

“To be with someone who actually wants to teach me. Who doesn’t think I’m weird for not knowing. Who… wants me to get it right.”

You stared at him.

He wasn’t smiling now. He wasn’t teasing. He looked serious, vulnerable, even. And it did something to you. Twisted something deep in your stomach. This was your friend, that not only trusted you enough to ask you this but you also thought he was cute and hot and perfect. 

The room felt hot. Too small. Too quiet. His thumbs rubbed slow circles into your thighs now, and you realized he hadn’t looked away from you once.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Then come here.”

Ni-ki shifted before he could even think, his hands sliding up to your hips like instinct. And when he leaned forward, lips brushing yours, it was cautious at first. Feather-light. Testing.

You tilted your head and leaned into it.

The kiss deepened slowly, like water spilling over the edge of a full glass. His mouth was warm, hesitant but eager, lips moving with just enough pressure to make your knees weaken. You could feel the tremble in him, like he was holding back, waiting to be told it was okay to want this. To want you. So you gave it to him. One hand slipped into his hair, anchoring, and the other trailed down his jaw, guiding him as your mouths melted into each other. His breath hitched against your lips when you sucked gently on his bottom one, and he made the softest, most desperate sound, half whimper, half groan. He opened his mouth and his tongue crashed with yours, wet sounds as you tasted his saliva on your own, sighing softly against him feeling how his fingers dig into the bare skin of your thighs. 

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth.

“Get on your knees, Riki.”

He blinked up at you, dazed, lips red, eyes wide.

And then he obeyed.

His hands slid down your thighs as he sank slowly to the floor in front of you. Kneeling. Breath shallow. Waiting.

Completely at your mercy.

He looked up at you, already breathless. You could see it in his face, that eager, desperate curiosity masked by restraint. Like he was doing everything he could not to touch. Not to beg.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Just reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, intentionally slow. You felt his gaze drag over every inch of skin as it was revealed, your bare breasts in front of him, nipples hard the second the cold air of the room touched them. His pupils were already blown wide, jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react. You dropped the shirt beside you, left in just your panties. 

The overhead light was off, but the warm hotel lamp behind him painted your skin gold, throwing soft shadows along your collarbones, the curve of your stomach, the tops of your thighs.

Ni-ki looked like he’d stopped breathing.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded too fast. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I just—fuck.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Rough and a little hoarse, like it had scraped his throat just coming out.

You slipped your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear.

His eyes dropped instantly.

You swore you saw his fingers flex again, digging into his jeans like it physically hurt not to reach for you.

You slid them down slowly, stepping out of them with a grace that felt foreign even to yourself, because god, the way he was looking at you was doing something to your head. Like you were the first naked girl he’d ever seen. Like he didn’t know what to do with the sight of you. Your bare intimacy was in front of him now, and you were dripping, glistening arousal that you hadn’t even noticed until that point, pulsing and needy and wanting him. 

When you stood fully bare in front of him, you saw his throat bob as he swallowed. Hard.

“Still okay?” you asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you like you were unreal. Like you weren’t even part of the same world.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed out, like it slipped from him without warning. “I don’t—what the fuck.”

Heat crawled up your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like that. Not with that kind of reverence. Not like he was wrecked by just seeing you.

“You wanna learn how to do this right?” you asked, stepping closer until your knees touched the edge of the mattress.

He nodded, already breathless. 

“Yeah. I want to learn everything.”

You smiled, heart pounding, then gently climbed onto the bed.

“Then watch me,” you whispered against his lips, not kissing him yet. “And listen to me. I’ll show you exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”

Settling back against the pillows until you were laying flat, you parted your legs just enough to keep him staring.

His breath audibly caught.

From below, he had the clearest view. Your skin glowing under the dim bedside lamp, the soft rise and fall of your chest, your thighs spread open with nothing hidden. Your dripping, swollen pussy. You watched his eyes flick from your face to between your legs, and stay there.

“You still with me?” you asked, your voice low and teasing.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve never—fuck, I’ve never seen anyone like this. Like you.”

Your core tightened at the way he said it, raw, reverent.

You bent one knee, dragging your heel up onto the mattress, spreading yourself more for him, breathing heavily, your heart pumping against your chest and your pussy pulsing under his gaze.

“Then pay attention,” you murmured, bringing your fingers between your thighs. “I’m gonna show you how I like it.”

Ni-ki looked wrecked already, and you hadn’t even touched yourself yet.

You started slow, fingers gliding down to part yourself gently. Your other hand gripped the sheets beside your ribs as you circled your clit, slow and lazy. Soft breaths fell from your lips.

You let your eyes drift shut for a moment, focusing on the warmth building low in your stomach. But you could feel his eyes on you. Could almost hear the tension in his throat as he swallowed thickly, breathing uneven.

“Can you see?” you asked, voice hazy, cracked at the edges.

“Yeah,” he said, too fast. “Yeah, I can see everything.”

You glanced down at him through your lashes. He looked dazed. Kneeling obediently between your legs, jaw tense, his hands fisted at his sides like touching himself would break whatever spell you’d put him under.

“Does it make sense now?” you breathed, dragging your fingers lower to gather slick and bring it back up, circling with a bit more pressure. “It’s not about being rough. It’s about paying attention.”

Ni-ki exhaled hard. 

“You’re fucking unreal.”

A faint smirk tugged at your lips. You were soaked already, turned on by your own touch—but also by him. The way he looked at you. Like he was watching something sacred. Like he’d get on his knees for you again and again if it meant seeing you like this.

You kept your eyes on him as your fingers moved, lazy, deliberate circles that made your hips twitch every now and then. You weren’t putting on a show. This was real. You wanted him to see what it looked like when it was good. When someone took their time. When someone cared.

And judging by the look on his face, Ni-ki was already on the edge of losing his mind.

Still on his knees, his jaw was tight, lips parted like he kept forgetting how to breathe. His hands had fisted into the hem of his hoodie, knuckles pale from the grip. You could see how tense his thighs were. You could see the bulge against his jeans, hard and throbbing. How his chest rose and fell too fast.

You tilted your head, voice smooth and low. 

“You want to touch me, don’t you?”

His eyes shot up to yours, wide and ruined. 

“So bad.”

You let out a soft hum, letting your fingers slow, just enough to keep the pleasure alive.

“I know,” you said. “You’ve been staring like you’re starving.”

“I am,” he groaned, frustrated. “You’re—fuck, you’re driving me insane.”

You gave him a slow, lazy smile. 

“Good. That means it’s working.”

He let out a strangled breath, his hands twitching again, like he didn’t know whether to beg or fall apart.

“Can I… please?” he tried, his voice rough. “Just a little—let me touch you.”

“You are touching me,” you said sweetly, dragging your fingers through your slick just to show him. You brought them to your mouth, tasting yourself on them before sliding them between your legs again “With your eyes. Can’t you feel it?”

He looked like you’d punched the air out of him.

“Don’t worry,” you added, voice a little lower, “I want you desperate.”

He exhaled shakily, dropping his gaze to your thighs again. His whole body was tense, on edge, like he was fighting every urge in his body to crawl up the bed and ruin the distance between you.

“You said you wanted to learn,” you reminded him. “So listen when I tell you this, Riki.”

He looked up again. Waiting. 

“Pussy isn’t about technique. Not really. You can memorize all the tricks, flick your tongue every direction—but none of it matters if you’re not obsessed with the way she tastes. The way she feels when she’s shaking under you. The way she moans when you find the spot that makes her legs tremble.”

He blinked like he wasn’t breathing again.

“And if you’re not ready to worship her,” you whispered, dragging your fingers slow and deep between your folds, “then you’ve already failed.”

“Holy fuck,” he choked out, his voice barely a sound.

Your smile turned wicked. 

“I haven’t even let you touch me yet and you’re falling apart. What do you think’s gonna happen when I put your mouth here?”

He groaned and tilted forward slightly on his knees, like the weight of your words pushed him closer.

You paused your hand and raised a brow. 

“Getting needy?”

He nodded quickly, voice rough. 

“Please. You’re killing me.”

Your chest rose with slow, smug satisfaction. He was so close—so close to breaking.

“You wanna taste me that bad?” you asked.

He licked his lips. 

“So bad I think I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

You let your hand drop from between your legs and spread your thighs a little wider, baring yourself completely for him, your wetness dripping between your folds until you were soaking the bed beneath you.

“Then come closer,” you said softly.

He crawled forward the second you gave him permission, kneeling between your legs like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do. His hands hovered just above your thighs, like he still wasn’t sure if he could touch you yet. You reached down and threaded your fingers into his hair, gently tugging until he looked up at you. 

“Slow,” you murmured. “I want you to take your time.” 

He swallowed hard. 

“Okay.”

 “Start soft,” you said. “Don’t rush. Just… taste.”

He nodded, breath catching like he was trying to anchor himself, but his hands were already trembling as they finally landed on your thighs. His touch was reverent, almost like he thought you’d vanish if he wasn’t careful. He leaned in slowly, plump and wet  lips brushing the inside of your thigh first, and you gasped at the contact. Just a kiss. Just barely there. But it lit up your nerves like a fuse.

The warmth of his breath followed, and your skin prickled with goosebumps. His mouth moved again, pressing another kiss, this time closer. He wasn’t rushing. He was listening. To your voice. To your breathing. To the way your thighs tensed when he got nearer to where you really wanted him.

You threaded your fingers tighter into his hair, guiding him, not forcing, just showing him you were there.

He looked up once, like he wanted to be sure, and when you gave the smallest nod, he lowered his head again, mouth finally dragging over your pussy, hot and open.

It was slow.

So slow it burned.

The first lick was cautious, just a flick of his tongue, but you moaned softly anyway, hips twitching up toward him. You could feel how his breath hitched in response, how the small sound you made seemed to fuel him. 

His lips parted again, tongue sliding a little firmer now between your soaked folds, tasting like he’d never tasted anything before. Like he was memorizing every part of you. The way your thighs shook. The way your breath caught. The way your fingers gripped tighter at his scalp when he hit the right spot, tongue licking wet and hot and perfect over your swollen clit. 

“Good,” you whispered. “That’s good… just like that.”

He let out a low sound against you, something desperate, something needy. His hands slid up to your hips like he couldn’t help himself anymore, holding you in place, mouth pressing deeper. The flat of his tongue moved in slow, indulgent strokes, and your stomach clenched, your toes curling against the sheets beneath you.

You exhaled shakily, fingers still buried in his hair, the sight of him between your legs already enough to keep your head spinning. He was trying, so hard, too. Tongue warm, mouth open, but a little unsure still, like he wasn’t convinced he was doing it right even though your thighs kept clenching around his ears.

“Riki,” you murmured, voice a little breathless, “slower—press your tongue flat. Yeah, like that.”

You felt him pause, adjust, and then try again, this time dragging the full weight of his tongue through your folds, slower, deeper, like he was tasting you properly now. Your hips lifted off the bed without meaning to.

“Mhm, fuck—just like that,” you whispered, your voice catching as a sharp pleasure lanced through your core.

You kept your eyes on him, watching the way he reacted to every sound you made. Like he was feeding off them. His lashes fluttered, lips shiny and swollen now, and when he glanced up at you, it was like he needed more. Needed to hear it from you.

“Circle your tongue around,” you whispered, tugging gently at his hair to keep him exactly where you wanted him. “There… slower. Keep it soft. I want to feel everything. Spit on it baby, get me soaked.”

His groan vibrated against you as he obeyed, the wet glide of his tongue sending another wave through your stomach, and then a thick string of saliva fell on your already soaked pussy. His hands clutched your thighs tighter now, nails pressing into your skin just enough to ground himself, like he was getting lost in it. In you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, letting the praise drip from your lips. You saw the way his eyes rolled back slightly when you said it. How his movements got a little more confident, a little messier, but somehow still just right. “Taste me—really taste me. Don’t just lick, use your mouth.”

He obeyed with a quiet desperation, sucking gently on your clit, tongue slipping lower before dragging back up again, slow and thick, like he wanted to devour every inch of you.

You gasped. Moaned. Tugged harder at his hair.

“Fuck, Riki—don’t stop—”

He didn’t. If anything, he got hungrier, greedier. His tongue started moving with more pressure, his lips sucking softly at the spots that made your thighs shake.

You didn’t even have to look down to know he was gone.

You could feel it, in the way his mouth moved, in the way his grip had turned bruising on your thighs, in the low, desperate sounds he kept making every time his tongue dragged through you like he couldn’t help himself.

But when you did look down, your heart almost stopped beating.

Riki’s eyes were barely open, glossy and wild, lips swollen, wet from you. His face was flushed, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and he was panting between licks like he physically couldn’t get enough.

And he kept talking.

Mumbling between mouthfuls, between kisses to your soaked skin, between long, obscene licks like he was drunk on the taste of you.

“Fuck—you taste so good…” he breathed, voice hoarse and wrecked. “S’fucking good… I can’t—god, I can’t stop.”

You moaned softly, hips rolling toward his mouth, and he whined into you. Actually whined.

“It’s the best,” he said again, more to himself this time, like he couldn’t believe it. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had. I swear—fuck, I need—need to keep tasting you.”

His tongue flattened again, dragging up, slower this time, like he wanted to savor it. He licked you like it was holy.

You gasped, gripping his hair, pulling him tighter to you.

And he loved it.

Didn’t even flinch. He moaned loud into your cunt, licking deeper, rougher, sloppy now, his mouth messy and wet and insistent. Every word he slurred out came like a prayer, like he was in some trance.

“I wanna eat you every day,” he groaned. “Fuck, please let me—I’ll be so good for you, I’ll learn everything—just don’t make me stop—”

Your head fell back against the pillows, legs shaking. He wasn’t even listening anymore, just moving off instinct, tongue flicking exactly how you taught him, sucking just enough to make your stomach twist with heat.

“You like it that much?” you teased, your voice barely holding steady, but it was still firm. Still in control.

His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but burning.

“I love it,” he said immediately.

Your legs trembled around his shoulders, and still—still—he didn’t stop. His tongue was relentless now, messy and hot and wet against you, every slow stroke making your stomach twist tighter, your breath hitch faster. But you wanted more. You could feel your body hovering right on the edge, just one touch away from snapping completely.

You slid one hand down, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, guiding him just enough so you could breathe. 

“Riki,” you panted. He blinked up at you, dazed and glassy-eyed, his mouth still open, his chin glistening. “Use your fingers too.”

He nodded without hesitation, licking his lips like he didn’t want to waste a drop.

“I—I don’t wanna mess it up,” he said, breathless, hand twitching at your thigh. “Just tell me what to do.”

You grabbed his wrist gently, brought it between your thighs, your own fingers wrapping around his to help him feel you.

“Start with one,” you whispered. “Slow. Let me open up to you.”

He swallowed hard and did exactly that—one long finger slipping into your heat, careful, reverent. The moment he did, a soft sound escaped your lips, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, almost choking on the words. “You’re so warm. So—fuck—tight. Is that okay? Is that good?”

“So good,” you gasped, voice trembling. “Now curl it—just a little. Mhm… yeah, right there.”

He groaned at the way you clenched, and then his mouth was on you again—tongue working in tandem with his finger now, stroking inside while he sucked and licked and moaned like he was starving.

You let out a high, breathy moan, your hand still guiding his wrist, helping him learn the rhythm. Your hips rocked up to meet both touches, tongue and finger now perfectly synced, and he responded instantly, desperate to give you exactly what you needed.

“Add another,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “You can take it.”

He hesitated only a second before easing a second finger in, slowly, and when he felt your body stretch around him, another broken groan left his throat.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice wrecked. “You feel so perfect—I wanna stay here forever.”

Your back arched, thighs trembling around his head, and he fucked you with his fingers just like you taught him, curling them right, keeping his mouth exactly where you needed it, letting you grind against his tongue shamelessly.

“That’s it, baby,” you moaned. “Just like that. Keep going—you’re gonna make me come.”

And the second those words left your lips, Riki lost it again, messy, moaning into you, thrusting his fingers harder, tongue flicking faster. You felt your climax building like a wave you couldn’t stop.

His lips were slick and red, cheeks flushed, hair clinging to his forehead. But it was the way he was moving that really undid you, hips rocking slowly against the mattress beneath him, grinding like he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Like he physically couldn’t stop.

He was moaning into you, low, broken, filthy sounds muffled by your thighs, and every time you tugged his hair or praised him, his hips pushed down harder, desperate for friction.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your whole body twitching under him. “You’re so needy, baby. Can’t even control yourself, can you?”

He moaned again, loud and desperate, and nodded just barely, face still buried in you.

“I—can’t,” he slurred between licks. “You taste too good—I need it—need to make you come—please, I can’t stop—”

The grind of his hips sped up, his fingers curling perfectly inside you while his tongue flicked your clit again and again, completely in rhythm, completely feral. His thighs were trembling from the way he was using the friction beneath him, like he was getting off just from serving you. From the taste. From your voice.

From the fact that he was the one making you fall apart.

“That’s it,” you groaned, hips bucking up toward his mouth. “Keep grinding, baby. Fuck yourself while you eat me. God—look at you…”

But he wasn’t looking anymore.

His eyes were squeezed shut now, brows furrowed in focus, mouth and fingers soaking wet, hips stuttering with every moan. And from the way his body was shaking, you knew, he was so close. Without even being touched.

You were shaking, heart hammering, your breath catching in short, ragged gasps. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers sent sparks rushing down your spine, your thighs trembling around his head. Ni-ki didn’t slow down, if anything, he was more focused than ever, like every sound you made fueled him. Like he needed to pull you apart, needed to feel you break for him.

You could barely keep your eyes open, barely breathe with how good it felt, how intense it was. His hands gripped your thighs like lifelines, grounding himself there, mouth working like he was starved and you were the only thing he’d ever wanted to taste.

Your hips jerked. You were so close it hurt.

“Riki,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “I’m gonna—”

“Come, please, need to feel you come on my mouth baby” He whispered, breathless, sucking your clit so hard that you cried out.

That did something to him. He moaned again, deep and wrecked, and it vibrated against you, just enough to push you over.

Your back arched off the mattress, your fingers tightening in his hair as the world blurred and broke around you. The orgasm tore through you in waves, sharp, warm, overwhelming. You cried out his name, legs closing around him, but he didn’t move, didn’t stop. He held you through it, mouth still soft, slow, working you gently as you came down. 

 When your muscles finally stopped trembling and your breathing slowed, he looked up at you.His lips were swollen, eyes glassy, flushed and ruined, and he was still panting because he came too, hard and soaked and messy against his jeans from just eating you.

You reached down and stroked your thumb over his cheek.

“You did so good,” you whispered, still breathless. “So, so good.”

And the look in his eyes when you said it? Like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to hear.

You were sure you created some kind of monster. 

It was like something had snapped open between you and Riki that night, something hungry and undeniable. He hadn’t touched you in front of anyone since, but you could feel it: the way his gaze followed you when you walked past in your bikini, the way he’d bite his lip when he thought no one was looking.

But it was worse when you were alone.

Because now, it wasn’t just once. Now he wanted you constantly.

You hadn’t even made it out of the hotel earlier that morning without him pulling you back into the bathroom, dropping to his knees like it was the only place he belonged. He’d barely said a word, just looked up at you with those dark, desperate eyes and mumbled something about “missing the taste of you.”

It had been messy. Rushed. You had to muffle your moans into your hand and clamp your thighs tight around his head just to keep quiet.

Now, three days later in the afternoon, you were sitting under a beach umbrella with a drink in your hand, pretending like you weren’t still flushed from the memory. Pretending like your legs weren’t shaking.

Ni-ki was stretched out on a towel a few feet away, sunglasses on, the sea breeze lifting his hair. He looked calm to anyone else—maybe a little too calm—but you saw the truth. The tension in his jaw. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth when he caught your eye.

And then he mouthed something at you across the space between your friends.

Please.

You blinked. 

What?

He glanced toward the beach showers. Then back at you. And mouthed it again:

Please. Just five minutes.

Your heart stuttered.

You shook your head. Barely. But your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat blooming low in your belly. He tilted his head, still pleading, like he was barely holding it together.

He wanted it again.

He wanted you again.

And it hit you then, this wasn’t just about curiosity anymore. This wasn’t a one-time thing.

Ni-ki was hooked.

The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting everything in a hazy gold, and the breeze off the ocean carried laughter and music from your friends further down the beach. You were pretending to still be sipping your drink when Ni-ki brushed past you, close enough that your knees touched for a second.

No one noticed. Or so you hoped.

He didn’t say anything, just walked towards the showers without looking back.

But you followed.

Your heart pounded as you crossed the sand, the faint sound of water trickling from a half-open faucet masking your footsteps. The beach shower area was quiet, stone walls, open-air, private enough if you were quick.

You slipped inside, and there he was.

His back was against the tiled wall, hair tousled, lips parted, like he’d barely been breathing since he left you on that beach chair.

“I thought you said five minutes,” you whispered, stepping in closer.

He shook his head, chest rising and falling beneath his shirt. 

“That was a lie.”

You raised a brow, teasing.

“So you dragged me out here to lie to me?”

“No,” he said, voice low, hoarse. “I dragged you out here because I need you.”

And that was all it took.

You kissed him first, quick and hot, stealing his breath. But he dropped to his knees before you could blink, already pushing your swimsuit bottoms down your legs with shaking hands, reverent and hungry.

“Wait,” you breathed, glancing toward the open side of the shower. “Someone could—”

“I don’t care.” His voice was wrecked, hands firm as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ll be fast. I promise. I just—fuck, I missed you.”

And then his mouth was on you.

The rush of it stole your breath. The contrast of the cool tile behind you and the burning warmth of his tongue had you clutching the stone wall for balance. He moaned into you, shameless, like the taste of you alone was enough to undo him. You bit your lip, trying not to make a sound, failing as a gasp slipped out when he flattened his tongue and really got into it.

“God, you’re so good,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “So greedy—”

He groaned, grinding against nothing, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you impossibly closer. His mouth was wet, messy, insistent, and every time you tried to look down at him, you saw how gone he was, red cheeks, glassy eyes, flushed and panting like he needed this more than air.

“Riki,” you warned, breath hitching as the pressure built again, sharp and fast. “We don’t have long—”

“I don’t care,” he mumbled against your skin. “Let them see. I’d still stay right here.”

That nearly ended you.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps pass nearby over the sound of the waves and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You just held his face, riding the edge, knowing it wouldn’t take long.

By the time you stepped out of the beach showers, your legs were still trembling.

You’d tried to fix your hair in the tiny mirror, smooth out your expression, but your mouth was swollen and your swimsuit still clung awkwardly to your damp skin. Riki walked a few steps behind you, his shirt thrown over one shoulder, cheeks still flushed, his lips a little too red.

And worst of all, he was smiling.

You elbowed him as you walked, muttering under your breath, 

“You’re being obvious.”

“I am obvious,” he said softly, brushing your fingers with his as you passed a stray towel on the sand. “And you liked it.”

You glared at him—only half-serious—and picked up the pace, ignoring the way your thighs still ached.

When you reached your friends, Jake was the first to spot you.

“Well, well, well,” he grinned, raising his sunglasses. “Look who finally decided to rejoin society.”

“We weren’t gone that long,” you said quickly, dropping your towel back down like nothing happened.

Jake squinted. “You guys missed the watermelon. And Sunoo was telling this insane story about—wait.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you look like that?”

Your stomach flipped. Riki coughed behind you.

Sunghoon glanced up from where he was drying his hair. 

“Yeah. You guys look kinda… flushed.”

“Hot out,” Riki mumbled.

“Hm,” Jake said slowly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

You sat down quickly on your beach chair and took a sip of your drink, trying to will your heart rate back to normal. But Riki flopped down next to you, casually propping his sunglasses on top of his head, lips still a little too pink.

You glanced at him. 

“You’re enjoying this.”

He smirked. 

“A little.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t.” He leaned closer, voice dropping so only you could hear. “Unless you want me to tell them how good you taste when you—”

“Riki.”

He grinned wider and leaned back like nothing happened.

You tried to look normal. Innocent. Unbothered.

But the looks your friends kept throwing your way said one thing clearly:

They knew something was up.

And if they didn’t know now, they would soon, because Riki’s knee was already brushing yours under the towel, and the second you leaned towards him, he gave you that look again.

Hungry.

Summer trip this year had just started. 

[enhawaria]

Weverse update 🌟

[enhawaria]

PARANOIA ★ N.RK

PRECIS 。 a quiet love that shows up, stays, and never asks ...

西村力 x fem!reader 1322 fluff ─ emotional vulnerability implied loneliness skinship kissing quiet obsession

REBLOG FOR A KiSS

you meet riki by accident.

literally. your shoulder clips his as you’re rushing across laguna street, late for something you don’t even want to go to. he barely reacts—just side steps like he saw it coming, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, chewing gum lazily.

he glances at you once. cool, flat, unreadable. then walks off like it didn’t even happen.

you tell your friends later you think you saw a ghost in daylight.

you see him again in japantown.

he’s sitting alone at a café, feet propped up on the chair across from him like he owns the place. the same grey headphones hang loose around his neck, his deadpan stare distant but sharp. he catches your eye over the rim of his iced matcha.

“you’re the girl who ran into me.”

you blink. “you remember that?”

“you were going fast.” he shrugs. “kind of hard to forget.”

he doesn’t offer you a seat, but you sit down anyway. he doesn’t stop you.

riki isn’t shy. he just doesn’t care to fill the silence. when you talk, he listens with his eyes on everything but your face—his straw, the way light hits the foggy window, the sleeve of your hoodie he keeps tugging at without noticing.

but beneath that calm surface, he notices everything.

he sees how you bite your lip when you’re nervous.

he notices the small crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re confused.

he watches how your fingers tremble when you’re cold.

he remembers how you always take your coffee—black, no sugar.

you don’t have to say you don’t like something—he just doesn’t do it again.

one night, you mention you hate people touching your hair. the next day, even when you lean into him, his hands stay firmly in his pockets. no accidental brushes, no casual grazes.

another time, you say you don’t like loud places. when you’re out, he subtly guides you away from the crowd without a word. no explanations needed.

he doesn’t ask. he just knows.

“you always come here alone?” you ask, noticing him sitting alone as usual.

“don’t like people talking to me when i eat.”

you pause. “you’re talking to me.”

he hums, like it’s the simplest truth. “you’re not annoying.”

that’s the closest thing to affection you get that day.

he starts showing up more.

not in a clingy way—he never texts first, never calls. but you see him everywhere: tucked in a corner of your favorite bookstore, walking past the painted ladies at golden gate park, once leaned against the railing of your apartment rooftop, looking like he’s been there for hours.

you don’t ask how he got in. he just tilts his head and says, “you’ve got a good view.”

as if that explains everything.

you start bringing him mochi from japantown. he never asks, but he eats it anyway. pulls it apart with long fingers, leaning back in your desk chair like he’s been living in your room his whole life.

“you always this quiet?” you ask.

he shrugs, that casual look never leaving his face. “you talk enough for both of us.”

slowly, you start letting him do the things you usually don’t let people do.

first, it’s his hand brushing against yours when you both reach for the same book in the bookstore. you don’t pull away. instead, your fingers linger, just for a second, before pulling back like you’re afraid you’re imagining it.

then it’s his fingers threading through your hair, absentmindedly smoothing the strands as you sit side by side, watching the fog roll over the bay.

you catch yourself leaning into it, like the warmth from those fingers calms the restless thoughts inside you.

he notices when you stiffen, and pulls back, but only just enough.

one rainy afternoon, you’re walking through japantown, sharing one umbrella. his arm brushes yours, then slides around your waist. it’s casual, like he’s holding onto you to keep balance. but your heart races.

the quiet of the rain makes everything feel intimate. the soft tapping of water on the umbrella, the smell of wet pavement mixed with jasmine tea from a nearby shop.

he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. never says “i want you” or “stay.” he just is.

the hugs come next.

not sudden or loud, but quiet and steady. when you shiver from the cold fog, his arms slide around your shoulders, pulling you close.

you try to pull away at first — you’re not used to letting someone hold you like that. but then you realize it’s not about needing something from him. it’s about the comfort of being seen.

and riki, with all his unreadable calm, sees you better than anyone ever has.

sometimes, when you’re sitting on the rooftop watching the city lights blur in the mist, he’ll lean his head on your shoulder, just for a moment. like he trusts you without having to say it.

holding hands feels like a secret only you two know.

he waits for you to move your fingers to his palm first — he never forces it. but once you do, he squeezes gently. just enough to say, “i’m here.”

sometimes he intertwines your fingers, sometimes he lets your hand rest on his leg while you talk. every little touch is deliberate but light, like a quiet promise.

riki kisses you like it’s not a big deal.

like it’s something he’s been meaning to do for a long time but forgot until the right moment.

he does it on the way home from a late walk—your hand brushing his, his gaze steady on how your lips move when you talk about dumb things like constellations.

“you think too much,” he murmurs.

then he kisses you. slow, barely pressing, like he’s tasting the words you didn’t say.

when he pulls back, he just says: “you’re cute when you’re paranoid.”

sometimes, he runs his thumb over your knuckles when you’re nervous.

sometimes, he traces lazy circles on your wrist when you’re tired.

you catch him watching you like he’s memorizing every little detail — the way your hair falls over your eyes, the way your smile breaks through the fog of your worries.

“what are we doing?” you ask one night, fingers tangled in his.

“nothing.”

“then why do you keep showing up?”

he shrugs, voice low. “…dunno. i like how you look at me.”

some nights, you wake up to him sitting at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your books or watching the fog outside. he never wakes you. he never says he’s staying over. he just… doesn’t leave.

and you let him.

because when riki’s around, nothing feels urgent. nothing feels fake.

you never know what he’s thinking—but you know, somehow, it always comes back to you.

vi says :: hi i love the marias! ♡

enhypen taglist :: @nocturnebite @jungwonbropls @cheruphic @chrrific @manariees @ijustreallylike2read @ijustwannareadstuff20

© CALLIKARI 

[enhawaria]

open up (l.hs)

pairing: roommate!heeseung x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: explicit smut, profanity, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex (🥳), minors DNI !

wc: 4.7k

🎵now playing: hush by the marias

✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　. ✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　. ✦　.　　. 　 ˚

"Im assuming you're my new roommate." You spin around, almost dropping your coffee at the sound of the unexpected voice lurking behind you. A guy stood in the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin and one hand resting on the frame. His voice had a warmth to it, like he was already trying to break the ice, but your eyes slowly grazed up and down his build.

He was tall; easily six-foot-something-and effortlessly good-looking in a casual, messy sort of way, with tousled dark hair and sharp features that probably turned heads everywhere he went. "I didn't hear you arrive last night?"

"I came in quite late," You sip your coffee. "I'm just glad I didn't wake you."

"I'm a pretty heavy sleeper - you don't have to worry about waking me up." He moves to walk beside to the kitchen island, leaning against the counter as he gives you a quick once over. "So, what's your name, then?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N..." a flicker of a smirk dances across his lips as he echoes your name almost immediately. He seems to be testing it out - like he's trying to see how it sounds coming from his mouth. "Y/N." He finally repeats, his eyes raking over your face.

"I'm Heeseung." He holds out a hand, waiting for you to take it. You clasp your hand around his. His grip is secure and steady, easily dwarfing yours as his fingers encircle your hand. As you shake, his eyes don't waver from yours; the lopsided expression hasn't faltered yet, if anything it's grown, his gaze seemingly drinking in your features.

You clear your throat, pulling your palms from his. He lets go of your hand just as quickly, a hint of a chuckle escaping his lips as he watches you pull away. "You're shy, aren't you?" He teases, his tone playful and light. "You're not going to be a very good conversationalist, are you?"

"Probably not no." You pull your lips into a thin smile, scratching softly at the back of your neck. "It's nothing against you though, I'm just not good at... talking."

A flash of a smile graces his face at your words, and he casually leans against the kitchen island, folding his arms over his chest. "Don't worry, I'll get you to open up to me eventually."

"I don't doubt that you will."

──────────────────────

Over the course of a few weeks, the pair of you had fallen into a pleasant routine. You had grown fairly comfortable with each other. Heeseung had somehow managed to coax you out of your shell and the two of you had an easy, friendly relationship now.

However, Heeseung seems to have grown into the habit of touching you. Nothing perverse or suggestive; it's all seemingly innocent. A hand on your shoulder to get your attention, a hand on your thigh as he squeezes past, a friendly pat on the back whenever he greeted you.

And it hadn't gone unnoticed... but you didn't mind either. It's not that Heeseung's touch is unwelcome - actually, you find yourself almost looking forward to these little touches and gestures that Heeseung seems to do without even thinking. They're all so nonchalant - it made you wonder if he treated everyone that way, or if you're the only one who got this special kind of attention. 

"You're up late."

You look up from your laptop, pulling your glasses down to avoid the glare from the screen that's been burning your retinas for the past two hours. Heeseung stands in the living room doorway, clad in a grey shirt and sweatpants. His dark hair is a tousled mess, the kind of mess that somehow makes him look better, like he’d just stepped out of a dream. Which, ironically, he probably had.

"You're awake?" You ask, blinking the bleariness out of your eyes.

"Mhm. Can't sleep." He sighs.

"How come?"

Heeseung shrugs and sighs again as he walks over, taking a seat on the edge of your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is. He’s been doing that more often lately — just showing up like this, quietly making space for himself in the corners of your day... or night, apparently.

"Just too much on my mind, I guess. I usually have trouble sleeping." His gaze finally drifts over to you, lingering in that way it sometimes does. It’s not uncomfortable, but you still feel your stomach twist a little under the weight of it. "But it looks like you're busy."

"I'm never too busy for you." The words leave your mouth before you have the chance to overthink them, which is rare for you. But it’s true. In all honesty, Heeseung was the only new friend you'd made over the last few weeks since starting college. So if that meant taking a break to spare him of his troubles, you would do it. "Gives me a reason to take a break anyway."

"Well, I'd say spending some time with me is a pretty good reason." He leans forward slightly, peering over your shoulder to get a look at what's on your screen. You're very aware of how close he is: close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough to smell the faint scent of his cologne thats worn off during the day. "What’re you doing, anyway?"

"Assignment."

Heeseung reaches down to shut the laptop without even asking. A small, panicked part of you hopes everything just auto-saved, but you don’t stop him. You let him close the screen, like you're surrendering to a better offer. And honestly, you are.

"Alright," You nod, settling back slightly. "What’s preventing your beauty sleep?"

He pauses for a moment, mulling over the question. "It's just been a long week." His voice carries a weary note, something heavy and worn tucked between the syllables, but his tired smile never falters. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over."

Pretty? Your stomach churns a little. Did he mean that? Or was it something to say - easy, offhand? You smile softly, hoping to comfort him. "Is there anything I can do to distract you?"

"You're always distracting me"

You blink, tilting your head. "Whats that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on.." He rolls his eyes, but there's no heat in it. Just that same tired smile. "You've got me all messed up."

You feel your heart climbing up your throat. For a second, you don’t say anything—just watch him. The way his eyes linger on you even when he’s trying to play it off, like it doesn’t matter. Like you don't matter. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is." He huffs a breath of a laugh, his gaze dropping for just a moment before coming back to meet yours. "At least, it was supposed to be."

You raise an eyebrow. "Supposed to be?"

"You weren’t supposed to mean anything." He trails off. "But now I can't stop thinking about you."

He's so close now, you can feel the heat of him, the tension pulling taut between you. "And what if I said I’ve been thinking about you too?"

You barely finish the sentence before he closes the distance, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that’s all heat and held-back longing. His hand cups your cheek, fingers trembling slightly—like he’s been waiting for this, aching for it.

At first, the kiss is frantic, but slowly, almost reluctantly, it softens. Heeseung presses closer, not to consume but to feel. His other hand finds your chin, tilting your face gently as if he's memorizing every angle, every breath. His thumb strokes your cheek with reverence, grounding himself in the moment.

Then, he pulls back, just enough to speak, his forehead resting against yours. "I think you should get some sleep."

You blink, stunned. After a kiss like that, he’s telling you to sleep? "What about you?"

"I'll be fine without sleep for one night."

──────────────────────

The next few days were silent between the two of us.

Not cold. Not awkward. Just quiet.

Heeseung still lingered in the same spaces you did—hovering near the kitchen counter when you made coffee, brushing past you in the hallway with a murmured “excuse me". Your eyes would still meet every now and then, but each time, he looked away first. He didn’t avoid you, not exactly.

At night, you replayed the moment over and over. The way his lips had moved against yours like he was afraid he’d never get the chance again. The tremble in his hand. The softness that had crept in, like he was trying to say something without words.

You wanted to ask him what the kiss meant. You wanted to demand why he kissed you like he needed you and then vanished behind silence.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you held onto the memory like a secret: the way he said, “I’ll be fine without sleep for one night.” like you were worth staying up for. Like you were worth something.

"He definitely wants you."

You give yourself a once-over in the mirror before scoffing, turning to face your best friend as she intricately curls her hair. "No he doesn't."

She turns over her shoulder, looking at you as if you were the most naive person in the world. "Come on, he kissed you. No guy does that if he's just looking for friendship."

"And he obviously regrets it." You mumble.

"You cant be serious right now? Are you-" She stops short when she sees the look on your face, softening her approach. "Is he gonna be at the party tonight?"

"Everyone is gonna be at the tonight." You reply, evasive.

"Then talk to him."

You sigh. "He wont even look at me."

She sets the curling iron down and walks over, placing her hands gently on your shoulders before sliding down beside you on the bed. "Okay, look. He’s an idiot." She wraps an arm around you. "But if he’s got half a brain, he’ll figure it out."

You nod, not quite convinced.

"And if he doesn't, I'll castrate him myself."

You laugh - genuinely.

"Now come on. Let's go get you some alcohol to drown your sorrows."

The party is in full swing by the time you both arrive. The house is packed; loud music and the smell of alcohol and sweat hanging heavily in the air. Bodies are pressed together, some dancing and some just trying to squeeze by.

You smiled on the outside—playing beer pong, throwing back shots and posing for selfies—but your gaze kept drifting to the door, to corners of the room he might be hiding in. You wondered if he had arrived yet, if he arrived before you, if he was even going to come at all.

Then you saw him.

Heeseung stood near the kitchen, half-leaning against the counter, drink in hand, talking to a girl you didn’t recognise. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times, and he was wearing that stupid black hoodie he always wears. For a second, you just watched. You couldn’t help it. That familiar knot in you chest tightened - nerves.

But you didn’t think. You just walked.

By the time you were in front of him, his eyes had already found you. He straightened up, the easy smile on his face faltering into something more guarded. You stopped just close enough for him to feel the tension radiating off you.

“You came,” you said, voice sharp but quiet.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “Didn’t think I’d see you here, honestly.”

You folded your arms, tilting your head just slightly. “Why? Because it’s easier when I’m not around?”

The girl he was with had caught wind of how this conversation could go, and decided it was better if she left. He looked down, his thumb tracing the rim of his cup. “Thats not- It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” Your voice was steady, but your chest was tight. You were both definitely a bit too drunk for this conversation, but if it didn't happen now it was never going to. “Because you've been avoiding me ever since... you know."

You both stood there for a beat, surrounded by noise, but wrapped in your own silence.

Heeseung sighed, setting his drink down. “Can we talk? Somewhere quiet?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s talk.”

You stepped outside, the hum of music and chatter fading behind you both as the door shut. The street was mostly empty, save for the occasional car passing by. Heeseung shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced at you, his jaw tense.

"So," you said. “Are you gonna pretend like nothing happened again?”

He flinched. “I’m not pretending.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You gave a dry laugh. “You kissed me, Heeseung. And then you ghosted me all week. Not even a text.”

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I don't know what you want me to say.”

“Try starting with, ‘Sorry for being a dickhead’,” you snapped, then regretted the bite in your tone immediately. You softened. “I just… I thought it meant something to you. It did to me.”

He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at you, eyes dark and unreadable in the low light. Then, finally, he murmured, “It did. It does. That’s the problem.”

You blinked. “How is that a problem?”

He took a step closer, not touching you but close enough that you could smell the remnants of his cologne and whatever bitter drink he’d been nursing. “Because if it meant nothing, I could’ve moved on. But it meant something... and that scares the hell out of me.”

You felt your breath hitch, emotions swirling too fast to catch one cleanly. “So you avoided me because you were scared?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t know how to be around you after that night. Everything felt… different.”

“It was different,” you whispered.

He looked at you like he wanted to say something else — a hundred things, maybe — but instead he reached out, gently brushing your hand with his. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to face it.”

You stared at his hand for a second before lacing your fingers through his. “Then face it now.”

He looked at you and then stepped in, closing the distance between you. “If I kiss you again,” he said, voice low, “I’m not running this time.”

You swallowed. “Then kiss me.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say it a second time.

Then his hands are on you, cupping your face and pulling you closer, his mouth claiming yours in a needy, heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated - probably due to the alcohol that still lingered on both of your breaths... but neither of you minded.

Heeseungs hands dropped from your face and found their way to your hair, hid fingers curling with a light tug, coaxing a sound from the back of your throat.

"I cant stop thinking about you." He murmured between kisses "I tried not to but -" he bit your lowers lip, then soothed it with his tongue. "But I want to."

It wasnt long until he had you pressed up against the door of some random bedroom - your thighs wrapped around his waist and his body flush against yours.

His hands were everywhere - in your hair, against the back of your neck, then slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts, touching and caressing every inch of exposed skin he could find. He groaned against your mouth, the sound desperate and needy, his hips rocking into you.

You tip your head back with a soft whine, your fingers splayed across his shoulders to keep you steady. Heeseung groaned at the sound, his hips jerking forward as his movements grew a little desperate. One hand slid up to tug at your shirt. “Can I-” he started, his voice raspy then trailing off.

"Please."

He quickly rids you of the material, lip snug between his teeth before practically throwing you on the bed. His body blankets yours in an instant. He takes a moment to look at you in the mess of someone else's bed.

"So fucking pretty." He grasps your chin, cooing at you.

You whimper, hands reaching up to eagerly tug at his hoodie strings. "Let me see you..."

He groaned, sitting up to let you help him pull his hoodie off. No shirt underneath. Surprising. "Your turn."

"My shirt is off."

"I wasn't talking about your shirt." He leans down to kiss you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He shifts, snaking his hand teasingly down your stomach to unbutton your shorts. Once unbuttoned, he dips his hand under the waistband as his lips leave yours with a smug grin. "Can I?"

You nod fervently, canting your hips up in an invitation. He obliges, wasting no time in peeling them off, then pauses for a second, looking at the lacy underwear you had on. His favourite colour. "You couldn't possibly have worn those for anyone but me."

"Only you." You breathed out, shifting your thighs to hide the obvious wet patch in the middle of the beige material. He was affecting you more than you would like to admit... but thats what he wanted.

"Don't." He lets out a disapproving tut, pining your thighs apart at the knees. "I wanna see them before I ruin them."

His head dips down, placing a wet kiss on the lace. You bite your lip, practically clenching around nothing - and you were sure he had noticed.

"I could just leave you here." His tongue runs along the fabric, pressing against you in just the right way. You whined, thighs twitching softly. "with these soaked panties of yours."

"No! Don't, please." You shake your head desperately. This was humiliating - you weren't one to beg. Usually.

He chuckled, the vibrations doing wonders on your sensitive core. He pressed another kiss, this one lingering and purposeful. He hums, gently pushing your legs together and watching the soaked fabric bunch between your folds. "Are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Yes."

"Good." He pushes your sticky lace to the side. He didn't wanna take them off - he wanted to eat your pussy whilst you wore his favourite shade of beige. He didn't waste any time either, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss against your clit. His tongue runs in a lazy circle, slow and sensual.

You gasp, almost a sigh of relief as you feel the heat pool in the bottom of your stomach. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling ever so gently.

He hums against you. He's always been weak for a firm hand in his hair, and he definitely didn't mind you using that against him right now. And then in one fluid movement, he's wrapping his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders and holding you in place.

He groaned against flesh, the sound sending little sparks up through your spine. He continued to kiss your sweet little cunt, lapping and slurping at your clit like it was his favourite meal, fingers pressing into your thighs so hard you were sure you would see remnants of his fingerprint in the morning.

You moan louder, causing him to cover your mouth gently. A warning. You were both aware of the party still going on downstairs - and whilst the music was loud enough to cover you both, if someone got close enough they would definitely hear you.

His grip on your thighs tightens, blunt nails digging crescents into the back of your knees. Your thighs are clenching around his face, desperate for more - possibly something a bit bigger. He sucks your folds into his mouth, swirling his tongue around before pulling off with an obscene ‘pop’.

You were an absolute mess, moaning and breathing heavily against the palm of his hand. You were trying your very best to stay quiet, but he was making it so difficult. But you were making it difficult for him too.

He moves his palm away from your mouth, just to shove two fingers in instead. "Suck."

You moan around them, sucking on the digits instinctively, your tongue swirling and coating them in strings of saliva. He could feel your walls clench around nothing, and he can’t help but be a tease. "That should keep you quiet."

He purses his lips, watching a glob of spit fall from his mouth and slide down between your folds. He bites his lip, a low grumble emerging from the back of his throat. And then he’s burying his face in you again, pressing his tongue flat against your clit and taking it into his mouth, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive spot relentlessly.

You feel the heat swirling in your belly, a pool of sweet pressure that feels so good, but not quite enough to push you over the edge. You clench your thighs around his head, arching your back desperately. A frustrated whine tumbles from your lips, muffled by his fingers. "Please-"

Your thighs are shaking, tears have spilled over your cheeks, but he’s still going. He could probably make you cum untouched like this - maybe he should, just to make you even more of a mess. But he's feeling kind.

He pulls off, giving you that insufferable smirk over glistening lips. He pulls his fingers from your lips and drags a finger through your folds, gathering your slick on the digit before plunging it past your entrance.

"Look at you, making a mess all over my fingers" he coos, pushing a second one in and watching it disappear with ease. You're clenching around his digits so desperately, and it makes him wonder if this is just a product of all those weeks of denied tension, or if you would have always been this desperate for him. "Such a whore..."

He curls his fingers in a way that has your toes curling, a strangled moan leaving your lips. Heeseung is past caring who hears you now. In fact, he hopes someone hears you.

"There you go- taking me so well" he coos once again. "Just like I knew you would." He pushes another finger in, rocking them with a torturous pace. His tongue finds your clit again, rolling over it gently to bring out more moans from your mouth.

"M'gonna cum seungie." You mewl, clenching desperately.

But he laughs - a cruel laugh. He pulls his head up, retracting his fingers and leaving your desperate folds empty. "No you're not." He says in mock sympathy, watching your eyes widen in protest.

"No! I was so close!" You sob out a whine. You were absolutely ruined - yet you knew this was nothing compared to what was coming next.

He stands up, undoing the button of his pants. They drop to the floor, and he’s left standing in nothing but a pair of black boxers - the same black boxers he was wearing the morning you met. You could tell from the distinctive waistband that was peeking out of his sweats as he greeted you.

Looks like you weren't the only one with purpose in your underwear choice. Maybe it's because deep down you both knew you would have ended up in this situation by the end of the night.

He pushes his boxers down, finally letting himself spring free. He's hard, leaking and clearly grown tired of waiting. Your stomach churned at the mere size of him. He reaches into his jeans pocket, pulling out a shiny gold wrapper.

"Prepared, were you?" You pant.

He rolls the condom over himself before throwing the wrapper in the bin. He grabs your thighs and hooks them over his hip - lining himself up with your eager entrance. "You're not gonna cum until I say you can. Understood?"

"Y-Yes" you choke out, already feeling him teasing your entrance and making your stomach pool. "Yes, sir."

Sir. He liked the sound of that. He clutches your hips, forcing you onto your stomach before guiding himself into you. You feel the stretch - not too much after the preparation, but it was more than enough to make you whine. He reaches forward, his fingers gently curling around your neck.

"Look at you taking me so well…” He hums softly, letting out a strained groan as he bottoms out. You clench around him, unable to hold back the breathy moans that escape your swollen lips.

He pauses, breathing harshly and grounding himself a little. Then he’s snapping his hips forward, driving himself so deep you swear you can taste him in the back of your throat. You gasp, your hands flying up to grasp at the sheets beneath you. He’s not gentle anymore, now grabbing your hips and shoving his cock into you like it’s all your good for.

"Fuck!" A moan rips from your chest. You could feel every inch of him; every vein as he filled you in deliciously.

"You like that, huh?" he grunts. He smacks your butt, making you jolt. "You like taking my cock like a good girl?"

"Yes sir

" You moan, managing to muster up a few words.

His grip of your throat tightens a fraction, making your back arch. It's not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel a little light headed. Your stomach coils. "M'so close."

His hands move to the back of your thighs, shoving one up so your knee is pressed up towards your chest. "Not yet."

The new angle has him brushing against your sweet spot, hitting even deeper than you thought was possible. You were absolutely sure he had teared through your cervix at this point.

Heeseung was far from quiet now too, his grunts turning into deep moans. You turn over your shoulder. He looks wrecked; his hair sticking to his forehead and his head thrown back. If you weren't in the position you were in, you would have taken this time to admire him.

Your eyes rake over his body - the way his thighs tense, the beads of sweat rolling down his collarbone. You’re drunk on it - him, like his touch has turned you into an addict.

"You're so fucking pretty" He pulls you up by your throat, pressing his chest against your back as he kisses you desperately. You reach forward, using the headboard as leverage to push your hips back against his.

"That's it, princess" he groans, his voice almost wavering. "Just like that."

He almost stills his hips, letting you take charge as you forcefully shove yourself down on his length. Your movement is sloppy and messy, but he doesn't mind - can't mind, not when you feel this heavenly around him.

He moans, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek with such gentleness that it could have come from a different person if you didn’t know better. "My pretty girl, mmh?”

Your thighs shake as you try so hard not to cum; waiting for his signal like you promised you would. "Please... let me cum."

He debated denying you just once more, but his orgasm was approaching faster than he would have liked to admit. "Cum for me... make a mess of me baby."

And you didnt need to be told twice. You threw your head back against his shoulders as you shoved yourself down on him once more before finishing on his cock. You moan loudly, white-hot pleasure completely taking over you as he grasp the headboard to ground yourself. And like a chain reaction, Heeseung pulled you closer and moans lowly as he finishes too, filling up the condom.

"Holy shit." You whine as he pulls out, watching as your juices run onto the bedsheet below. You felt bad - for ruining someone else's bedsheets... but you didn't have the energy to care much.

"That was amazing." He sighs, kissing your cheek before gently manoeuvring you to lay down on the bed before lying next to you. He wrapped his arm protectively around you, kissing your forehead.

"Hopefully you're not gonna ghost me until I have to confront you. Again." You huff.

"Not a chance."

✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　. ✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　. ✦　.　　. 　 ˚

taglist: @taeghi @hollyoongs @jaehoonii @prettygurlnikittie @kittympirty @hoonprksung @starggukies

──────────────────────

@ hvseung, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway. thankyou :)

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[enhawaria]

How to eat a girl out

(Pt.1/preview)

Pairing: Riki x girlfriend!reader x Jake

Synopsis: Riki has been pondering the question: how to please you with his mouth? Luckily, his friend, Jake, has plenty experience of cunnilingus and is more than willing to demonstrate…on Riki’s girlfriend

Cw: cunnilingus, threesome, praising reader’s vulva (Jake), munch!Jake, masturbation (m), breast play, nipple sucking, thigh play (f), reader has a bush (diva), etc

Who knew that the nonchalant, handsome, charismatic Nishimura Riki could be so insecure behind closed doors about pleasing his girlfriend? Riki has been thinking of ways to please you, and worry fills his mind of if he’s adequate enough to satisfy you, but he doesn’t really have a way of knowing, since he worries that you may be faking your pleasure. Riki is a very private man, dislikes pda and public praise from you, he’s very shy romantically. But secretly, he wants you to bite into his heart and hold him hostage in the prison of your arms for the rest of his life, he wants you to have his soul, his everything, his mind, his body; he wants you to use him for your pleasure, to make and break him all over again as many times as you want. He can’t describe his need for you in words that exist, love just isn’t enough. That being said, he would do anything to please you, both romantically and sexually. He always takes the liberties of initiating sex with you, not that you mind at all. And when it’s you that starts kissing his neck and sitting on his lap while watching a movie? He swears he could die right then and there from your desire. He’s eaten you out more times than you can count on your fingers, but he still doesn’t know if he’s good enough to fully satisfy you… luckily for him, a certain group member/friend is well experienced and definitely willing to help…

[enhawaria]

────୨ৎ munch riki.

·˚ ༘ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑂𝑈.

ׂ╰┈➤ s. 𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑦 wc. 505. w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 + ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!) n.𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦..

munch!riki.. who doesn't just eat pussy; he treats it like a sacred decadent ritual. He'll spend hours between your thighs if you let him, mapping every gasp, every little twitch, every choked-off whimper like he's studying for a choreography he's desperate to ace. His tongue moves lazy and deliberate, savoring the way you clench around nothing, how your hips stutter when he hums against you. He loves when you beg him to hurry up, just so he can give you one of his diabolical smirks and murmur:

’’But I'm not done tasting you yet."

munch!riki.. who the more you unravel, the more feral he becomes. He'll pin your thighs apart with bruising grip, watching your face as you sob from overstimulation, his lips glistening with your arousal. And when you try to squirm away, oversensitive and shaking? That's when he drags you back, growling:

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. I decide when you're done."

munch!riki.. who brushes his thumb over your bottom lip at dinner. Silent whispers, such as "I can still taste you" while you're trying to focus on things, which require your immediate attention. Lingering eye contact as he slowly licks syrup off his ring-covered fingers at breakfast. He lives for the way your breath hitches, how your cheeks flush - knowing you're replaying every filthy thing he's done to your cunt.

munch!riki.. who fingers you with his chrome hearts rings on, the cold metal contrasting deliciously against the heat of his tongue and the wetness of your pussy. He takes his time, letting your arousal paint the intricate designs of the rings - sharp edges and engraved details - while they drag teasingly over your folds before pressing inside. The weight of the jewelry adds just enough pressure, amplifying every sensation as his fingers curl just right.

Sometimes, he’ll twist a ring slightly, letting the band catch on you in the most maddening way, just to hear you whimper his name. And when he pulls out, the glint of silver against slick fingers is a filthy reminder of how thoroughly he’s marked you - even without leaving bruises.

munch!riki.. who adores turning you into a needy, pleading wreck. He’ll lay you out, spread you wide, and then just… watch. The man will trail his fingers along your inner thighs, kiss everywhere but where you want him, until you're arching off the bed, whining his name. And when you finally break, he'll reward you with a filthy grin and a slow, open-mouthed lick that has you seeing whole galaxies.

munch!riki..who will bury his desperate face in your panties just to inhale deeply, groaning like an addict. If you've been out all day, he'll push you against the door the second you get home, rutting against your thigh, while he mouths at your neck, muttering:

"Fuck, you smell so good - need to get my mouth on you, now."

And if you tease him? If you shift just right so your scent hits him? He'll snap, flipping you onto your backside with a snarl.

-

divider credits: cursed-carmine

[enhawaria]

—ONE ON ONE 18+

Nishimura Riki x Female!Reader — University AU

warnings/tags: study buddies to lovers, inexperienced reader, hard dom!riki, crush!riki, porn with some plot, texting, teasing, making out, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), choking, marking, slapping, possessive, demanding riki, spit, handjob, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

♡ you start studying with your quiet crush, until one day, he invites you over, and you end up sobbing, ruined in his bed.

w/c: 7.4k

It wasn’t anything serious. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You and Riki didn’t really talk. Not the way other classmates did—casual, loud, back-and-forth in lecture halls. He was… quiet. Always showing up late but somehow still getting a seat near the front. Always in dark clothes and expensive jewellery. Always watching more than speaking. He didn’t try to stand out. He didn’t raise his hand. And yet somehow, you noticed him first. Well. Maybe not “noticed”, more like kept noticing. Like your brain started analyzing him every time he walked into the room: black hoodie again, earphones in, notebook half-open but never messy. You never even thought he’d noticed you at all.

Until he did.

It was a Tuesday, and you were stuck. The professor handed out a printed exercise to be solved in pairs, but your usual friend wasn’t in class. You were halfway through trying to solve the second question alone, chewing the cap of your pen in mild panic, when you heard a voice behind you. “…You’re doing it backwards.” You looked up. He was already sitting in the empty chair beside you, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Riki. His voice was lower than you expected. He leaned over and tapped his pen against your sheet ,not correcting you, just quietly showing you. You blinked at him. “Oh. Thanks,” you managed. He didn’t reply. Just kept working beside you until the time ran out. And when the professor collected the papers, he stood up and left without saying anything else.That was it. Or… you thought that was it. Until a week later, when you were reviewing notes from the last lecture and couldn’t find a single readable thing in your handwriting. You remembered his — clean, sharp, borderline aesthetic. You didn’t know why, but you pulled up the class group chat, scrolled, found his number from a previous message, and tapped it. You weren’t even sure he’d remember who you were. You weren’t sure why you were nervous. But you texted him anyway.

You

hey riki!! do u still have the notes from class today? i zoned out halfway :(

♡

Riki

yeah

figured you would

♡

You

what’s that supposed to mean

♡

Riki

you always zone out around the halfway mark

kinda cute tbh

You stared at your screen, heat blooming in your cheeks.

You

i’m gonna take that as a compliment

♡

Riki

was one

He was so casual, unreadable, like he hadn’t just short-circuited your brain. It started with a single text from him the next day:

Riki

still need help with the lecture stuff?

library’s dead today, come by if u want

Your stomach flipped a little when you read it, mostly from surprise. You hadn’t expected him to follow up. Definitely hadn’t expected him to remember your struggle with the content. So you said yes. You found him at a tucked-away table in the back corner of the campus library, hoodie pulled over his head, one earbud in, notebook already open. He looked up once when you arrived. Didn’t smile, just nodded. You sat beside him. Close, but not close enough to touch. You opened your laptop, pulled out your notes, and tried to pretend your hands weren’t slightly shaking. For the first ten minutes, neither of you spoke. He scribbled something down. You typed a few lines. It was quiet, comfortably quiet. But there was something about being this close to him that made it so fucking hard to focus and he smelled so good. You weren’t sure why it made your mouth dry. After a while, he leaned over just a little to glance at your screen. “You copied that part wrong,” he said. You blinked. “Huh, really?” He reached out, brushing your hand by accident—or maybe not—and pointed directly at the mistake. “This line. He was talking about this, not that. You flipped them.” “Oh,” you said, staring dumbly at the highlighted section. “That makes way more sense.” He hummed. Barely a sound. Then sat back again like he hadn’t just leaned close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

You tried to keep reading, but your eyes kept drifting.

To the way his fingers drummed against the edge of his notebook.

To the way he chewed on his cheek while concentrating.

To the way his sleeve slipped up just enough to show the veins in his wrist and arm.

You forced yourself to focus. Mostly.

You didn’t plan to run into him again. Not really. You were just looking for somewhere quiet, someplace your brain might actually work for once, and the upper floor had study rooms that no one ever used. It was a last resort. You walked in with your headphones already on and your brain half-fried. And then you saw him. Riki. Sitting alone in one of the back corners. Legs sprawled, earbuds in. A pen spinning between his fingers, that same black hoodie pulled halfway off one shoulder. You froze in the doorway. He looked up, and for a second, he just stared. Not surprised. Not curious. Just calm. Like he’d been expecting you. Then he jerked his chin, wordless, inviting you to sit with him. Your pulse jumped. You tried not to show it as you stepped inside. “You’re here a lot,” you said quietly, settling into the chair beside him. “Yeah,” he replied, eyes dropping back to his notebook. “Quiet’s good.” It was. Too good, maybe. Every time he shifted in his seat, every time he tapped the table or flipped a page, it felt louder than it should’ve. You tried to focus on your own material, but your eyes kept wandering. To the veins on his hands. The way he leaned back and chewed on his pen cap. The curve of his lip when he was thinking. God, you needed to get a grip. You were scribbling out notes on a problem you didn’t totally understand, squinting your eyes, when his voice came low beside you.

“You’re writing the wrong formula.” You blinked. He leaned in, arm brushing yours as he took your pen without asking and struck a line through your equation. His handwriting replaced it. Clean and annoyingly perfect. “That’s how you mess the whole thing up,” he said simply, handing your pen back. You stared at the page. “Thanks,” you said. Quiet. Maybe too quiet. He didn’t move away. Just sat there, watching the way your eyes lingered on the ink he’d left behind. Then finally, with a slight tilt of his head, “You always squint your eyes when you’re stuck?” You stiffened. You hadn’t even noticed you were doing that. You looked up, startled, and he was already looking at you. Calm. Casual. His gaze didn’t move. It felt like too much, suddenly.Too much eye contact. Too much attention. Too much heat. You forced a laugh, ducking your head. “Wow. You’re observant.” He didn’t answer. But he didn’t look away either. And for the rest of the session, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still watching you. Not obviously, not openly, but just enough to make you not being able to focus. The study session lasted just under an hour. By the end of it, your head was clearer, and your notes were neater. You were packing up your bag when he finally spoke again. “You work better in silence,” he said simply. Not a compliment. Just an observation. You paused. “Do I?” He met your eyes. “Yeah. You get distracted too easily when it’s loud.” Something about the way he said it made you wonder what else he’d noticed.

He’d asked you after the last session — just kind of offhand, like it didn’t mean anything.“It’s quieter in my dorm,” he said, packing up his notes. “You can come by next time if you want.” That was it. No expression. No explanation. You’d nodded too fast. Now you were standing outside his door, staring at the number. You knocked twice before you lost your nerve. It took a second, but he answered. His dorm was small, neat, two desks, one unmade bed, the faint smell of detergent and whatever cologne he always wore. His roommate wasn’t home. He didn’t say that part, but it was obvious. The room felt still. You stepped inside carefully, clutching your bag, suddenly hyper-aware of your outfit. You hadn’t meant to dress like this, not for him, anyway. The kinda sheer tank top was just convenient, and the skirt? You told yourself it wasn’t that short. You’d worn it a million times. But Riki’s eyes dropped for just a second before he stepped aside to let you in. And that second? It lit your whole body on fire. He didn’t say anything about it. Of course not. He just sat at his desk, motioning to the chair beside his. “Here.” You took your seat.

For the first ten minutes, it was normal. Mostly quiet. His pencil scratched lightly against his notebook. You tried to copy a few things he wrote down, but your focus was elsewhere. You could feel the heat of him beside you. His knee brushed yours once, and it sent your heart into your throat. You didn’t move. Neither did he. You thought maybe he hadn’t noticed. But then, after a long pause, he spoke. “You wore that on purpose?” His voice was low and calm. Almost lazy. Your stomach dropped. “What?” you asked, too quickly. “That skirt.” You froze, heart hammering, unsure if you were supposed to laugh or deny it or what. You weren’t even sure if he was joking. But when you glanced at him, he was still staring at your thighs, then your face, with that unreadable, maddening expression. “I didn’t mean to,” you said, breath caught. “I just… it’s hot out.” Riki’s eyes dragged over you one more time, slowly. Like he was thinking about something. Measuring it. Then he looked away. “Shame,” he muttered. It was barely audible. And he didn’t elaborate. He just turned back to his page, pen in hand, like that was the end of it.

But your whole body was lit up. Nerves everywhere. Blood rushing to your face, your throat, your fingertips. And even though you tried to keep reading, keep writing, keep breathing normally, you couldn’t stop feeling the heat of his presence beside you. Still quiet. Still unbothered. You tried to keep your hands steady, not to squirm in your seat, not to think about the way his voice had dropped on that one word—Shame—like he meant more than he said. Riki hadn’t touched you. He hadn’t even looked at you again. But it didn’t matter. Everything between you had changed. You stole a glance at him. He was focused again, or at least pretending to be. The sharp angle of his jaw, the loose way he held his pen, the little crease between his brows , it all looked the same, but you knew it wasn’t. He had noticed. And worse, you couldn’t stop wondering what else he’d noticed. “Need help?” he asked, suddenly. You blinked. “Huh?” He nodded at your page. “You’ve been staring at that question for five minutes.” You scrambled to look down, pretending like you were just distracted. “Oh— yeah. I don’t get it.” “Let me see.” He reached for your notebook, leaned in close enough for your shoulders to brush, and took it gently from your hands. Your breath caught. His thigh pressed against yours. Just slightly. He didn’t move.

He explained the answer softly, pointing as he spoke, the tip of his pen gliding over your paper. You weren’t listening. You couldn’t. Because all you could feel was how close he was. How warm he felt. How good he smelled. How careful and deep his voice was. You swallowed hard. He handed your notebook back, fingers grazing yours. “You okay?” he asked. You nodded fast. “Yeah. Just— tired.” He studied you. His eyes flicked down your face, slow, deliberate. “You always get like this when you’re tired?” You blinked. “Like what?” Riki didn’t answer right away. He slightly shifted in his seat and turned toward you. Then, in that same dead-calm voice: “Fidgety. Quiet. All flushed.” Your breath stopped. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t teasing. He looked completely composed like he was stating facts, which somehow made it worse. “I’m not—” you tried, voice weak. He cut you off. “You are.” Then silence again. The air between you was thick. Too heavy to breathe. And then, his hand moved. Slowly. He reached out and touched the side of your thigh, not high, not too far, just above your knee. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look away from your face. He just watched. Watched like he already knew what you were thinking. Your lips parted, but no words came out. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t move. And maybe that was all he needed. His touch dragged a little higher. Still slow and patient. Your chest rose with a sharp breath, and his eyes flicked down, just briefly, to your mouth, then back up. Debating.

You stared at the notebook in front of you like it might save you, but your body was already betraying you. Heat bloomed under your skin, your hands twitched in your lap. You couldn’t look at him, but you felt him. Silent. Watching you. Then, finally, his voice, low, right beside your ear. “You’re shaking. You bit the inside of your cheek. He didn’t move his hand, didn’t tease. You turned your face slightly, just enough to catch his eyes and he was already looking at you. Expression unreadable. Completely composed. Then, after a beat, his thumb dragged slightly along the inside of your thigh. Barely anything, but it lit you up. He leaned in, voice low and even, “You get like this for anyone else?” Your heart slammed in your chest. Your mouth parted, but the only sound you made was your breath hitching. He didn’t push, he just watched, already knowing the answer. You couldn’t answer him. Not with words. Not like that. So you just stared, lips parted, heart in your throat, too warm, too aware of every place his hand touched. Then, his fingers slipped slightly higher. Slow and measured. He was feeling it too, the shift in the room, the heat between you, the way your body leaned in before you even realized. He leaned closer, not fully, just enough that his shoulder brushed yours, his thigh pressed against the side of your leg.

You swore you heard the faintest breath from him like he was steadying himself. Then his hand slipped under the edge of your skirt. Bare skin. You sucked in a breath and finally looked at him. His expression hadn’t changed, but his dark eyes gave him away. There was nothing casual in that stare anymore. His fingers moved again, a little higher, then stopped just before the heat of your core. You tensed, but you didn’t pull away. “Knew you’d let me.” he said, softly. The words slammed through you like a current. Your breath hitched hard. Still, he didn’t move further. He just watched you squirm, fingers barely pressing into your thigh, letting the weight of everything unspoken hang thick between you. You weren’t sure if you were going to melt or burst. His hand moved again, slipping just a little further, fingers grazing the soft curve where your thigh met your hip. Your breath caught, shallow and quick. Riki’s breath hitched softly against your neck as he leaned in, just enough that you could feel the warmth, his steady, quiet presence like a steady flame flickering against your skin. You could feel him—so close now, that his chest brushed against your arm, his steady heartbeat like a silent drum beside you.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, loud and urgent. He stayed there, patient, watching. Then, the quietest sound, a breath, almost a sigh, right at the hollow of your neck. Your skin tingled. And then, his lips brushed your skin. A gentle ghost of a kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head slightly, searching for more. His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, holding yours with an intensity that made your heart leap. Without breaking eye contact, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours. It was soft at first, testing. But then it got deeper, firmer, as if he’d been holding back all along. Your hands twitched at his waist, unsure and desperate. The world shrank until there was only the two of you—breath mingling, heat pooling between you. He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, voice low and steady. “Finally.” His lips pulled away from yours just long enough to catch his breath. Then, without a word, Riki’s hand slid from your thigh to your waist, gripping firmly as he pulled you up and pressed you back against the edge of the desk. The smooth wood was cool beneath your palms, but his body was hot and heavy, looming over you, shadowing your smaller frame. You could feel the weight of him, the strength in his arms holding you in place. His mouth crashed back onto yours, more demanding now, hungry and fierce. His hands roamed freely, sliding up your sides, cupping your ribs, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your tummy.

You gasped when one hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingers ghosting over bare skin, no barrier, nothing between you and him. Your back arched instinctively. His other hand found your throat, thumb brushing lightly, fingers framing your pulse. His eyes closed as he kissed you like he was starving, like he needed to devour every inch of you. Your hands tangled in his hair, desperate to hold on, to pull him closer. His mouth moved against yours with an urgent rhythm, deep, claiming. You felt every heartbeat, every breath, every touch. You were pinned but free all at once, lost in the heat of him. And even as his grip tightened just slightly at your throat, it wasn’t rough, it was possessive, controlled, making clear you belonged to him in this moment. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the two of you, pressed close, skin on skin, heat and hunger tangled in every kiss and touch. You couldn’t keep still anymore. Your legs squeezed together, your hands gripping the edge of the desk like you’d fall apart without it. His touch was everywhere—soft palms sliding under your shirt, thumbs brushing over your bare chest, knuckles grazing places that made you gasp and twitch and whine without meaning to. You were dizzy with him. Every breath came out too fast, too shallow. He pulled back from the kiss just enough to look down at you. Your lips were parted, swollen. Your chest rising in frantic little jolts. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, gaze dragging across your face.

You whimpered. It slipped out before you could stop it—quiet, needy, helpless—and his eyes darkened instantly. He liked that. One hand splayed across your stomach, holding you still, the other slid higher, over your chest again, thumbs brushing your nipples until your head tipped back and a shaky moan slipped through your lips. You were panting now, thighs pressed together, aching. “Riki…” you breathed, barely a whisper. His hand came back up to your throat, firm but gentle, tilting your chin so you had no choice but to look up at him. You were flushed. Eyes wide, lips wet, a total mess. And he looked down at you like he’d never seen anything more perfect. “You look so fucking pretty like this,” he said lowly, like he was talking to himself more than you. You blushed, a sigh leaving your mouth, back arching into his touch. His mouth crashed onto yours, hungrily, like he needed to shut you up before you begged. His hips pressed forward, caging you completely, and you felt him, hard through his jeans, pressed against your lower stomach. You made a soft, desperate sound in your throat, and he swallowed it down. Your hands moved without thinking, tugging at his shirt, trying to get closer, trying to do something with how badly you wanted him, but he didn’t rush. He kissed you harder, messier, until your legs felt weak and your body trembled beneath him. Until all you could do was gasp and whine and let him touch and take. You weren’t thinking anymore. Just feeling. Every brush of his fingers, every scrape of teeth, every low breath against your skin. And the worst part was how badly you wanted more, how badly you needed it. How you would’ve said yes to anything he asked.

Your chest rose and fell in short, shaky breaths as he pulled away just enough to look at you again, eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-bitten. His hand slipped down from your throat, trailing slowly along your collarbone, then lower, until his palm flattened over your ribs again. His eyes dragged slowly over your body—the way your chest heaved, the way your thighs pressed together like you were trying to hold yourself in place. Then he leaned in, voice brushing against your ear, low and steady, “Look at you,” he murmured. “So worked up and I haven’t even done anything yet.” Your breath caught, eyes fluttering shut for a second, because God, he was right. His fingers skimmed just above your waistband, dragging across your lower stomach, the touch featherlight, maddening. “You want it that bad, baby?” he asked, quietly, like he already knew the answer. You let out a whimper, soft and high, nodding before you could even think. That made him smile, just barely. Almost smug. His fingers dipped under the hem of your skirt, warm and unhurried. “Let me see how bad,” he said.

His hand moved with ease, sliding beneath your skirt, soft fingertips dragging the fabric of your panties down your thighs—slow, almost teasing. He didn’t take them off, just pushed them down, exposing you enough to make you shy. The cool air hit you, and then, his fingers. Two of them, thick and warm, sliding through your soaked folds like he was testing you. Your hips bucked. He chuckled, quiet, deep in his chest. “So wet already,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Dripping.” Your face burned, but you couldn’t look away. You were panting, lips parted, eyes wide as his fingers pressed in just a little. You whined. He exhaled slowly, enjoying every second of watching you unravel. And then, without warning, he pushed his fingers in—deep, smooth, filling you so easily your head fell back with a broken moan. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tense. “You feel insane.” Your walls clenched around him, and he felt it, smirked a little when your legs twitched, when your body rocked instinctively against his hand. His other hand slid up your thigh, settling on your hip to hold you still. Then he started moving. Slow thrusts of his fingers, curling just right, his thumb dragging over your clit in lazy, perfect circles.

You were gone. Melting. Whimpering with every curl, every press, every stroke. Your thighs trembled. Your hands flew to his shoulders, fingers digging in like you needed something to hold onto. “Riki—” you gasped, voice wrecked and whiny. “Please—” He leaned in again, his breath hot against your neck. “Please what, hm?” You whimpered, hips jerking. “Need m-more,” you managed. His fingers thrust a little deeper, a little faster, his thumb pressing harder on your clit. “You’ll cum for me like this,” he said lowly, lips brushing your ear, “and then I’ll give you more.” Your body arched. The pressure built fast, tight and overwhelming, and all you could do was nod, desperate little noises spilling from your lips as your climax started to crest. You were already close, right on the edge, hips twitching, thighs shaking, the pressure unbearable. But then his hand shot up, suddenly, firmly gripping your jaw. His fingers pressed into your cheeks, tilting your head up, forcing you to look at him. “Let go,” he whispered, fingers thrusting faster now, relentless. “Be a good girl and cum.” That was it. Your entire body shattered. You came with a cry, legs clamping around his wrist, hips jerking against his hand as waves of heat and pleasure rolled through you. Your eyes barely stayed open, wide and glossy, locked onto his as you came undone right there on the desk, whining, pulsing hard around his fingers. He watched you, tight grip still on your face, other hand working you through it like he wanted to see you lose control. “Good girl,” he muttered, lips brushing yours. “Just like that.”

You were still trembling, thighs twitching from the aftershocks, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. He pulled his fingers from you slowly, watching the way you flinched from the overstimulation. His hand was slick with you, dripping, and he stared at it for a beat, eyes dark and unreadable. Then he dropped to his knees. Your breath hitched. You barely had a second to react before his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, and his mouth was on you. A gasp tore out of your throat as his tongue dragged through your folds, slow and greedy. “Ngh—Riki!” Your hand flew to his hair, the other on the desk, fingers gripping the edge until your knuckles turned white. He moaned softly into you, the vibration making your hips buck. His hands squeezed tighter, holding your thighs apart, keeping you open for him as he lapped up every drop of your release, messy, shameless. Your head fell back. Another whine escaped your lips, high and breathless, and still—still—he kept going, tongue swirling around your clit, flicking with just enough pressure to make your eyes roll back. When he finally pulled away, your skin was hot and damp, your whole body still twitching, breath caught in your throat. He stood, and then his hand wrapped around your neck again—firm, possessive—and he yanked you into a kiss. His mouth crashed into yours, lips slick with your taste, tongue sliding against yours with no warning, no hesitation. You whimpered against him, hands reaching for his shirt, for anything to ground yourself.

He kissed you like he owned you. Like he needed to devour you. His grip on your throat tightened and you moaned into his mouth, helpless and hazy, your whole body pliant against his. And when he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his eyes dark, and his voice—fuck—his voice was low and raw when he spoke. “You’re mine,” he said, quiet but rough, meant for just you. “Got it?” Your heart stuttered. He’d barely said more than a few words to you since you met—always calm, unreadable, barely emoting—and now he was gripping your throat, kissing you like he wanted to ruin you, claiming you like you already belonged to him. You didn’t even hesitate. Your head nodded, small and shaky, your whole body still trembling under his touch. “I’m yours,” you whispered, breathless. It came out like a confession, sitting heavy in your chest for too long, just waiting for him to pull it out of you. Your eyes met his, wide and glossy, and the look on your face, sweet and desperate, giving him the biggest puppy eyes he’d ever seen. But you looked so pretty like that—wrecked and breathless, your lips parted, your thighs still shaking, feeling like you needed him more than air.

Riki’s jaw tightened, and something dark flickered across his expression. His grip on your face stayed firm, fingers digging just a little harder into your cheeks. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, voice rough, barely held back. “You’ll make me fucking crazy.” But he was already leaning in again, mouth finding yours in a mess of tongue and teeth, kissing you so hard your head tipped back from the force of it. You moaned into him, needy and sweet, letting him take whatever he wanted, and he did. Then suddenly, his arms wrapped around your thighs and he lifted you. You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your body still trembling from the aftermath of his touch. He carried you the short distance from the desk to his bed and laid you down gently, never breaking contact. His body hovered over yours, eyes locked on your flushed, fucked-out face. Your shirt was rucked halfway up your stomach, your lips swollen from his kisses, thighs still twitching where they wrapped around his waist. He stared at you for a long, quiet second, trying to memorize you like this. Then his hands came down, one to your thigh, pushing it open wider, the other to your ribs, sliding up your bare skin under your shirt, slow and deliberate until his palm cupped your chest. No bra. Just you, soft and warm and whimpering under his touch. “You don’t even know what you do to me,” he muttered. You bit your lip, hips shifting instinctively, seeking friction. Anything. But he didn’t give it to you, not yet. He just leaned down, mouth brushing your neck, tongue licking a slow stripe up to your jaw before he kissed you there, hot and open-mouthed, leaving a mark. Your fingers clutched at his shirt. “Riki…” He hummed lowly, like the sound of his name falling from your lips lit something in him.

His mouth found your ear, breath hot, “Tell me you want it,” he said. “Say it.” Your whole body was burning now, flushed from head to toe, your voice coming out in a shaky, helpless whisper, “I want it. I want you.” And that was all it took. He kissed you again, before his hands moved, yanking your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside without a second glance. Then he just stared. Your bare chest rising and falling, skin flushed, nipples already hard from his teasing. His hands dragged up from your waist, until they cupped your tits, thumbs brushing over them gently, considering the way his jaw clenched like he was barely holding back. “Look at you…” he muttered, voice ragged. “Fuck.” And then he was on you. Mouth hot and desperate, he ducked his head and devoured you, lips closing around one nipple while his hand kneaded the other, tongue flicking and sucking until your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He bit,not too hard, just enough to make you squeal, and soothed it with his tongue right after, moving between your breasts like he couldn’t choose which to ruin first. You were already panting, fingers tangled in his hair, thighs rubbing together. Sloppy kisses turned into bites. He left hickies on your neck, down your collarbone, over the swell of your tits, under them, across your ribs. You could feel the bruises blooming under his mouth, red and raw, one after the other like he wanted to brand every inch of you. He kissed down, mouthing at your tummy next, dragging his teeth over the soft skin before sucking another mark right beneath your navel.

And all that while watching you. Smirk barely there, eyes half-lidded but burning, soaking in every whimper, every twist of your body, every broken moan. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.” he said against your skin. He leaned back just enough to yank his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside carelessly. You barely had time to look—at the lean muscles, the toned arms, the sharp lines of his waist—before his hands were back on you again, sliding under the waistband of your skirt. “Lift your hips.” he said, and you obeyed without thinking. He dragged the skirt down your thighs, watching the way you shivered beneath him. He took his time peeling it off, letting his hands skim down your legs like he was memorizing the feel of you. Then he tossed it aside and looked down at you—naked, body covered in marks, chest rising and falling fast. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, eyes roaming like he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. His hands found your hips, big, warm and possessive, and then they started moving. One slid up your side, across your stomach, over your breast, the other to your jaw, fingers stroking gently before slipping between your lips. “Suck,” he said, low and commanding. Your lips parted automatically, and you wrapped them around his thumb, letting him press it down on your tongue. He watched you—watched your pretty, desperate mouth take it in, cheeks hollowing slightly as you sucked. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl.” You whimpered around his thumb, pussy pulsing, body practically buzzing from the tension. His other hand was still moving—down your ribs, over your tummy, lower, skimming just above your heat. Then he sat back a little on his knees, keeping his thumb in your mouth as he reached for his waistband.

He hooked his fingers into the edge of his sweats and slid them down just enough to reveal the outline of his cock through his boxers—thick, hard, straining against the fabric. Your breath caught, eyes flicking down before darting back up to his face. And he was already watching you. A soft smirk curved his lips as he tilted his head, thumb still resting on your tongue. “My cute girl,” he cooed. “So needy for me already… you really can’t help yourself, can you?” You hummed around his thumb, cheeks flushing even deeper, thighs pressing together as the heat pulsed harder between them. His hand drifted back to his waistband, and this time, he slipped his fingers under. You watched with wide eyes, heart pounding, breath catching in your throat when he finally pulled his cock free. So big and heavy, flushed at the tip, already leaking. The sight made your stomach flip, your mouth go dry, and you could barely look before your gaze darted away, face burning. “Aww,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “what’s wrong, baby?” You shook your head quickly, eyes flickering back up to his face, trying not to stare but completely failing. Your thighs squeezed together instinctively, your body so hot you could hardly stand it. He leaned in closer, one hand returning to your cheek, fingers stroking your flushed skin. “Shy all of a sudden?�� he teased, a dark smile playing on his lips. “You were being so brave for me a second ago.” You whimpered, squirming under his gaze, his cock now resting heavy against his abs as he leaned. He took your hand and gently guided it to wrap around him. “Come on,” he whispered. “Touch me.” Your fingers curled around him, tentative and trembling, and his breath hitched like he hadn’t expected you to feel that good.

He swore under his breath, hips twitching slightly, and his head fell down. “That’s it,” he whispered, his hand covering yours, guiding your movements slow and steady. “Just like that.” You stroked him softly, your touch shy, eyes flickering between his flushed cock and his face—so close, so focused, the sight of your hand on him was driving him insane. Your hand stayed on him, guided by his, and the longer you touched him, the more confident your fingers became. You swallowed hard, heart racing at the weight of him in your palm, pulsing in your hand. His cock twitched again, and a low groan left his lips, rough and strained. “Fuck,” he muttered and leaned closer, his forehead brushing yours. His breath was warm and shaky, fingers tightening over yours. “Doing so good.” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted. There was something in the way he stared back, eyes hooded, jaw tight, he was barely holding himself back. He took your hand away from him gently, kissed your wrist, and pressed your arm back against the bed “Spread your legs for me.” You obeyed. Slowly, nervously. But the second your thighs parted, his gaze dropped and darkened. “God,” he said under his breath. He crawled between your legs, hands running up your thighs.

He leaned down, kissed you—soft, slow, deceptively gentle—before lining himself up, one hand wrapped firmly around his cock, slowly moving it up and down your folds, the other resting over your ribs grounding himself. “You ready f’me, baby?” he asked, voice quiet, low against your mouth. You nodded, a soft, breathy sound escaping your lips, but it wasn’t enough for him. His hand slid to your throat again, “Use your words.” “I—I want you,” you whispered, and the moment the words left your mouth, his hips pushed forward slowly. The stretch made your breath catch. His hand slid under your thigh, hitching it up. You could feel him, pressed just against your entrance, stretching you, but not moving yet, giving you time. His hand curled around your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip with surprising tenderness for someone who’s splitting you in half. You gripped the sheets beneath you, lips parting in a gasp as the pressure built inside you. Every inch filled you more than you expected, and it was overwhelming, unfamiliar, but somehow addictive. Riki’s mouth found your shoulder, teeth grazing lightly over your skin, like he was trying to distract you from the way he was sinking deeper. “You’re doing so good,” he murmured against your skin. You whimpered, your body tensing. “Breathe for me,” he said, and his voice was so calm, so steady, it soothed you even while you felt like falling apart. You let out a shaky exhale, eyes fluttering shut, and after another moment, he was fully inside.

Your eyes met his, teary and wide, and your lips trembled. “Riki—s’too much,” you admitted, voice almost shy. He smirked, “I know,” leaning down to kiss your jaw. “You’ll take it for me, won’t you?” Your stomach flipped at the words. You nodded, more sure this time. Then he pulled back just a little, before thrusting again, and your whole body shuddered at the sensation. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice ragged as he buried himself deeper. “So tight… fuck, y’feel so good.” His hips rolled into you slow, dragging against your walls, making you moan louder with each stroke. You clung to him, nails digging into his arms, breath coming in sharp little gasps as he set a rhythm. It was too much, too full, too good, and your body couldn’t keep up. Every time he moved, you clenched tighter around him. He pulled back slightly and grabbed your leg, lifting it high and pressing it over his shoulder. The angle changed everything—you cried out, high and helpless, your head tilting back against the mattress as he thrust deeper, harder, splitting you open with every roll of his hips. “Yeah,” he muttered, fingers digging into your thigh, mouth kissing it softly, as he started to lose control. “That’s it. Let me hear you.” You were loud. Whining, whimpering, trembling under his body, your hands gripping the sheets. “R-Riki—!” you sobbed his name, tears welling at the corners of your eyes as your body jolted under the force of each thrust.

And that did something to him. His hand shot to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. You were a mess. Eyes wet, lips trembling, mouth open in breathless, broken sounds, and when the first tear slipped down your cheek, he smiled. Not sweet. Not soft. A sharp, dark twist of his mouth like he was proud of it. And then he slapped you. A clean, firm hit across your cheek—quick and shocking—and you gasped, more in disbelief than pain. Your head whipped slightly to the side, your moan caught somewhere between pleasure and stunned heat. His hand lingered there, fingers spread across your cheek, claiming you. “Fucking love seeing you cry for me.” Your stomach dropped, heat flooding your veins, and you started sobbing harder—overwhelmed, aroused, completely undone. Your hands reached up, grabbing the one that had just hit you, fingers curling around his wrist, holding it like it anchored you. You couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that your crush—the one who barely spoke, who barely looked at anyone—had slapped you, and now he was fucking you like this, praising the tears he pulled from your eyes, and you fucking liked it. You needed more.

He shifted his weight, grabbed both of your thighs, and lifted—guiding your legs up and over his shoulders in one smooth, strong movement. The change in angle made you moan loudly, the new depth dizzying, the sound leaving your lips raw and wrecked. Your hands fumbled at the sheets, knuckles white as you held on, tears spilling down your cheeks again as the pleasure pushed you past the edge of sense. “Riki—” you choked out, completely gone, “I… I can’t—” “Yes, you can,” he groaned, slamming into you harder, his hand tightening on your jaw. “You’re gonna take every fucking inch.” Your eyes rolled back, body arching, sobs turning into moans, hands gripping him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. His gaze locked onto yours, dark, possessive, mouth parted slightly as he caught the sight of you all spread out and shaking for him. “Open your mouth.” You gasped, but you did—lips parting, eyes wide and waiting. He leaned over you, hips never slowing down, and with a sharp breath through his nose, he spit into your mouth. “Swallow.” You did. Without thinking. Without hesitation. And that seemed to please him. His hand came to your cheek, thumb brushing away a tear like he was calming you, and then—Slap.

A soft one. Just enough to make your breath catch, to light another spark under your skin. You whimpered and he firmly gripped your jaw, tilting your head to make sure you looked at him. “You’re fucking perfect,” he whisper softly. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?” Your pussy clenched around him, back arching from the bed. And still, you nodded, too far gone to form words, too desperate for him. You were gasping, moaning brokenly into the heat of his neck as he pounded into you, deep and rough, your legs high on his shoulders. His grip on your thighs was bruising, and you clung to the bedsheets, your vision blurred from tears and pleasure. Your body was stretched and aching, but it didn’t matter, not when he was murmuring filthy praise in your ear, not when every thrust perfectly hit your cervix. “You’re mine,” he whispered. “This pussy—” he snapped his hips hard, making you cry out, “—belongs to me.” You sobbed, nodding, walls fluttering around him. “Want you to cum with me,” he said roughly, teeth gritted as his rhythm got sloppy. “Let go, baby. Make a mess on my cock.” You couldn’t hold back anymore. You came hard, a cry catching in your throat as you clenched around his cock, trembling, unraveling. The moment your body gave out beneath him, he buried himself as deep as he could go and let go, filling you with a whimper, low and desperate in your ear. His cum making you feel so full, so warm inside you. “Mine,” he muttered again, softly kissing your neck.

Your breathing was still shaky when he pulled out, careful and slow. You winced a little at the sensitivity, and immediately, Riki’s expression changed. The fire in his eyes dimmed and his hand came to rest on your thigh, warm and gentle. “You okay, baby?” he asked quietly. “Yeah… just sore.” you blinked up at him. He leaned down, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Stay here.” You watched him move around his small dorm room, grabbing tissues. He cleaned you up gently, his touches surprisingly sweet and patient. When he was done, he tugged the sheets over your bare body, then slid in next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. It was quiet for a while. Your heart was still trying to calm down, and Riki just lay there, soft hand caressing your tummy. Then, out of nowhere, he spoke. “Wanna go to the movies tomorrow?” You blinked, turning your head to look at him. “What?” He glanced down at you, his face unreadable, but there was something softer around the eyes. “You heard me.” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. After everything, after the rough, possessive way he’d claimed you, this was the last thing you expected. You buried your face in his chest, cheeks burning. “Okay,” you whispered. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Cool.”

my other works ➵ masterlist

a/n: i got a little carried away with this one yall lmao i've been so fucking obsessed with this man lately i can't stop thinking abt him please i need him so badddd :(

© guliexe 2025 all rights reserved.

[enhawaria]

https://www.tumblr.com/cherrypandora/782969024429670400/httpswwwtumblrcomcherrypandora78232552094584?source=share

omg!! yes pleaseeeee

i would love to read more of riki x cute gf

Nishimura Riki x cute!gf reader

he’s stressed.

needs you right next time him at all times. personal space who?

just wants to make sure you’re safe and don’t get lost or hurt.

panics when your try to do things on your own.

nearly has a heart attack when he sees you climbing onto the sink to reach the top shelf.

“what are you doing?”

“trying to reach the pot?”

“absolutely not, get down.”

gets the pot for you and tells you to just ask him when you need things.

somehow still trying to act nonchalant about how much he likes you.

always getting caught staring in your direction.

turns red as hell when you notice and smile at him.

“you got something on your face.”

yeah he’s not slick.

always taking you on dates cause he likes matching outfits with you.

hyperventilates when he sees you wear his hoodie one day.

always looks for you after long days.

“baaaaaaabyyyy”

major cuteness aggression when he sees you do aegyo for the first time.

(and every time after that)

“you think you can get your way just cause you’re cute, and pretty, and sweet, and-“

“what was i talking about?”

litters your face with kisses as a greeting EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

never let’s go of your hand.

“marry me.”

“now.”

[enhawaria]

WHEN WE WERE SOFT — nishimura riki written series

001 lemonade skies and childhood lies

word count, 477 words

You met Riki when you were six, and he immediately convinced you that the neighbour's cat could talk.

You believed him, for three days.

He was the kind of boy who smiled like he knew something you didn't, who wore grass stains like badges of honour and called you weird in the most affectionate way possible.

Somehow, that same boy is now seventeen, taller than you, just as annoying, and still showing up outside your door every morning to walk you to school.

You don't ask why. You never have to.

⸻

"Morning, princess," Riki says now, voice still scratchy with sleep as he kicks a pebble down the sidewalk. "Did you finally dream of me?"

"Yeah," you reply dryly. "You tripped over your own ego and fell off a cliff."

He snorts. "How romantic."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug upwards anyway. That's the thing with Riki, he knows exactly how to push your buttons, but he also knows when to pull back. He teases you until you're grumbling, then tosses you your favourite snack from his bag like he planned it all along.

(He probably did.)

⸻

The air's colder lately. You hug your sleeves around yourself as you walk side by side down the same old street you've taken for years. The houses blur past, familiar and unchanged, but something in your chest feels different. Buzzing.

You glance at him. Riki's walking with his hands behind his head, whistling off key.

He catches you staring and raises an eyebrow. "What? Am I too handsome today? Should I tone it down?"

You snort. "Should've done that years ago."

"Wow." He gasps dramatically. "After everything I've done for you? I literally gave you the last piece of my gum yesterday."

You were about to fire back with something equally sarcastic, but he stops walking.

You turn.

He pulls a chilled lemonade bottle from his jacket pocket and holds it out to you without a word.

You blink. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Thought you'd like it. You get all moody when it gets cold."

"...I do not."

"You do," he says, smirking, eye crinkling. "You stare out the window like you're in a music video."

You want to hit him with the bottle. You also want to hug him.

Instead, you mutter, "Thanks," and take it.

⸻

The rest of the walk is quiet. The kind of quiet that only exists between two people who grew up in sync. Every step, every joke, every pause is predictable in a way that feels like safety.

Still, you can't help but wonder if it'll always be like this.

Because lately, when Riki smiles at you like that, with his sleepy eyes, lazy grin, and some dumb joke on his tongue, you don't think of bugs, bandaids, or talking cats.

You think of what it would feel like to hold his hand.

⠀ prev mlist next

[enhawaria]

『 TORN APART 　➖️　Lost friendship fades into painful silence. 　　』

니키 ⠀ ੭୧ ⠀ fem!reader 271 angst lost friendship ˊᯅˋ fleeting glances unspoken goodbyes ⠀， fading echoes . . .

ミナ ・ I don't know how to feel about this ・ 　 　 　 　. reblogs ⠀❣　 feedbacks　ありがとう。

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed until the silence between you and Ni-ki had become so thick you could almost cut it. The two of you used to be inseparable. Best friends since childhood, always finishing each other’s sentences, laughing over stupid jokes only you two understood. But now? Now, you couldn’t even find the right words to say when you were near him.

It all started when he pulled away—little by little, his presence fading from your life like a shadow slipping away from the light. You tried to hold on, tried to bridge the gap that grew wider every day, but it was like chasing a mirage. Every time you reached for him, he seemed farther away.

Your attempts to talk about it, to understand what happened, were always met with awkward stumbles, empty excuses, and distant looks. His once warm gaze now barely brushed over you, like you were nothing more than a fleeting memory. The connection you thought would last forever was slipping through your fingers.

It hurt more than you expected, losing him like this. You missed the way he used to make you laugh until your stomach hurt, how he would stay up late with you talking about everything and nothing. Now, it felt like you were strangers, stuck in the same room but never really seeing each other.

You stood there, a hollow silence between you, feeling the weight of what had been lost. There was no point in forcing something that was no longer there. It was over. You were strangers now, and you didn’t even know when it had happened.

taglist: @chrrific @glittercrashhh @jjennuine @vivimura @ijustwannareadstuff20

[enhawaria]

Reset and replay | a nishimura riki of 𝗘𝗡- fic ᴅ𝐢𝐬ℎ 001' [🍽️]

Idol!ni-ki×fem!reader [proofread]´ | <note from chef mika : ℬℴ𝓃 𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝓉𝒾𝓉ℯ!´> |

Sneak peek(🔎):You've always loved your boyfriend riki but does it all matter when your relationship has no point of improvement and you keep going back to where it started?...

ingredients💭:fluff,angst,comfort,depression,mention of self harm.

No calls,no messages.

You've been staring right through your phone for hours,eyes burning not just from the screen but from something else deep within.Your boyfriend riki has gone on a tour to the states,you've been seeing clips from fan accounts on your socials.You were happy really,but you just feel so stupid right now sitting on your bed holding onto your phone for any updates from your boyfriend.Is it really that bad,you have to scramble through your socials to find fan accounts made for him and see him through the screen,if he's doing well,if he's all smiley?.No,when did it ever get bad to this point?.Thinking about it,it has happened a long time ago.At that time you were just busy telling yourself it would be fine,brightening up because it was just the start.The start is what that has brought you to this.When you had first met him,it was simple.He didn't have any schedules walking freely around chrome hearts,his supposedly favourite store.That's where you met him,one look and he got you staring.God was he handsome,on a second thought he looked really cute more like a duck? Yeah that's what you said to yourself when you found him unconsciously pouting while paying the bill in the cashier counter.After that you started seeing him frequently and sometimes you had gone just to see him.When he noticed you,you guys really clicked.Had same interests,fun talks,love for figurines.When had it started hurting really? Have you been lying to yourself all this time?.

It was not okay,it is the time to accept it.You thought you were the silly one missing him like crazy full well knowing that he's an idol and he's really determined in making himself successful.Years of late night dance practice even when he was with you,you'd be on the floor leaning back on the wall,eyes threatening to close shut and take you to a peaceful sleep.But no,your boyfriend was there working himself to the bones.You had to stay awake support him,offer him water and cutted fruits because you really cared for him.You would tell him to take a break of atleast 10 minutes but he just looked at you with that adorable grin saying he's fine.Sometimes he would consider it and would sit beside you,playing with your hair or with the water bottle in his hands leaning his head on your shoulder,scooting closer.You liked it even though he was all sweaty.You both were really in love at that moment.But now? oh you don't ever want to doubt his love for you but it's been hard lately like you're the only one who's trying,who's pushing hard.You have decided to at least show up to one of his concerts or attend a fan call,it broke you that you had to pay to see him.A fancall would do you thought as you lifted your heavy limbs to walk and get your card.

You punched in the code,the website "weverse" loading your transaction.After some minutes animated confetti shower fills your screen "You've won a fancall,congrats! " It felt empty,the mere words generated by the app to provide excitement was only breaking you more.You were shaking.The fan call was in five days.Five more days,till you see him.This was it.You had a small dinner by yourself watching your favourite show remembering how riki also loves it.You quietly entered your bedroom not bothering to shower and change into your pyjamas or do your skincare.You plopped down on the bed pulling the warm cozy blanket till your neck,hair splayed across the pillow.You usually braid your hair to bed to avoid getting it tangled but you don't now.Tonight feels suffocating, without him on the side of your bed,clinging onto you like you're his lifeline.He was there to make the cold side of your pillow warm,even if he's not physically here sometimes.You would facetime eachother talk about latest memes and funny things or rumours that gets passed on around about him by the netizens.Sometimes a full yap session on what you've both missed out on each other's life.It was nice and fulfilling.

You silently pull the blanket over your head,leaving out a shaky breath.You quickly press it down on your face.Your lungs burn at some point,your vision blurring.Your throat was burning and your eyes were watering.You need him like the oxygen you're so deprived of right now.It's painful,you never thought about yourself here in this moment at the start of your relationship.Moving on from exes were so easy,you backed out the moment you saw a bit of red flag behaviour.But you can't here not when you love him so much that you're suffocating yourself.You don't like to call him a red flag,it's you who is stupid and hurt.He is working hard there and you're here crying like a silly over literally nothing.Void consumes you as you enter into an unconscious state of sleep.

The next few days are haunting,a quick blur.It all merges into this day as you sit on your desk,your phone facing you.The front camera staring right at you,catching your face.You quickly fix your hair and makeup and double check.Clearing your throat awkwardly,your eyes dart to the time display on your phone.Just three more minutes.You fixed your dress again not wanting to sit idle and then your phone freezes momentarily before another screen joins in.You gulp nervously putting on a smile and checking if the lighting is okay.The screen is a little blurry before it fully focuses.Ni-ki emerges from under the desk,mumbling to himself as he dropped something.He sits comfortably in his chair and finally his eyes focus on you.His brows scrunch a little before his eyes widen.You open your mouth to greet him.In a hushed whisper he cuts you off "What are you doing here?My manager is right there y/n.Do you want us to get caught?"right,usual ni-ki when he is panicking.You put on a smile again.

"Hey it's been a while since i saw you" you speak casually getting the hint and acting like a fan.He replies back"How are you? I think I saw you in our concert in LA right? You were the one holding up the duck banner.Yeah?".You nod quickly,composing yourself "yes,you remember!.I'm fine.How are you?". "Ah im fine of course just busy with comeback preparations" he says while you think of it as a subtle reply as to why he's not available.But his tone lacks the warmth reserved only for you,right now he's talking to you like you're his beloved fan maybe because his manager is right there and things could go wrong.Or maybe it's always been like this for a while.You remind yourself to not overthink as you speak through, "I miss seeing you,hope you're doing fine" you say as to subtly convey your worries.Not confiding in it,he waves dismissively with a quick masked laugh as he replies casually to you like you're just a fan.

The call ends in a blur,the timer ringing from his side as you guys quickly exchange goodbyes.As soon as it ends and your screen goes black,you put your hands over your face,regretting acting like a fan.That's not what you wanted clearly,this is not enough.Maybe a concert? well if he doesn't act like himself in a fancall how is it possible in a concert.Your heart twists painfully as you let yourself cry.You think of your little self,always so unsure,picking around your nails,scared to make friends.World felt so large and unfamiliar.Will you let yourself tell her that you never changed and somehow she is always there afraid and lonely.You thought you were all grown up now,only to find yourself crying covering your face,letting the pretty makeup get ruined.You dolled yourself up for what?for hurt?,for pain?.Maybe you were always like this,maybe you failed as a person to give yourself attention and self love.You've always been one for self hatred or self loathing.Quickly regretting things you do or you say.You wish you were better,you always did.But with ni-ki things like that disappeared,it faded in the background,only living around his smiles and just him.

Maybe you depended too much on him,you were always clingy at some point.Not physically maybe but emotionally? You give yourself in wholly to whomever you love and right now you love riki.You think that's what has led to this.You love calling him riki while no one else did,quietly liking the meaning that his name means strength in his language.He was your strength,your love,your trust,your rock.Everything you had to look forward to.He was your dream and you sure did achieve it but it feels so distant.Runny nose,swollen eyes,somethings never change you think to yourself as you wipe at your tears.You lean forward for the tissues,so white and so fragile like you in a sense.Easily gets soaked,like you are right now in tears.But it makes some things go away,so maybe it's different.You can't ever make this depression clinging onto you like a second skin go away,ever.Would you ever be fixed?,tearing yourself away from this misery is as hard as building a skyscraper.Insecurity,embarassment,anxiety, overthinking,self doubt,low self esteem....what else honestly?.You think when these emotions came crashing down,it was your first ever real depression.You couldn't bear it,couldn't deal with it.You told no one.Looking at your old cut marks on your delicate wrist makes you shake and cry more,the mark so faint.Going through it was like walking through hell,your mind was your own punisher.Pushing you to self harm and self destruction.You cut your hair,wore new dresses,put on a pretty smile.You've come this far yet you still feel it,the old you.The you who is very fragile and is on the edge of breaking.You wish people were able to put up with you,you wish you had a normal mind.Getting sad only when necessary like normal people.Oh,how bad you want to be like others again.Does time really heal? Or does it push things back only for it to burst out like a volcano at some point? You never knew.You just missed him so much,you miss riki.But you can't ever bring yourself to cry like this in front of him.Opening up is hard when you've buried your old self to the ground around him.Now that he's not here,it's acting up again.You plan on running back to his arms.You don't want to tell him though,you know he's really stressed and overworked.

You quietly pull out your phone and swipe up the screen to unlock it.The brightness hurts your eyes,hissing frustratedly you lower it.You open your contacts and text jake and jay,your boyfriend's bandmates.You send out a quick greet and start texting about the surprise plan you've been wanting to do.You carry on with your day,waiting for their reply.You open your phone screen momentarily to check your notifications.When you were about to go to bed,you receive a notification from jake first.He agrees and says he will start preparing excitedly.He is a big enthusiast of your relationship with riki after all.Five minutes later when you're scrolling on spotify to make a new playlist,you receive a text from jay.He says that he heard from jake and they both will request their manager to let you make a surprise visit in the name of a family member specifically his younger sister's friend.The fake cause of visit is an urgent family matter to be passed on and since his family is on a vacation out somewhere,they've sent you.Perfect lie.Sure you do know sola,she's cute and funny but you feel nervous thinking about keeping up that facade while being watched by his manager.Days drag on as you receive a text from them that the company has accepted the request and the said date for the visit is a month away,you can stay with him there for about a week.You focus on trying to heal yourself but it all goes wrong anyway.Typical you.The sun shines through your curtains everyday but you're the one who's not shining at all.You pick up on your old depressive habits.It felt comfortable but consuming.You know you're gonna drown in it one day and lose yourself.Right now all you want and love is riki.You have to hang on for him.You have to be there to keep loving and supporting him.A goal to your insignificant life.That's what you think it is.

The day arrives as you drag your packed suitcase along the disinfected airport floor,you look down at your reflection on the floor for a moment.The jet lag was crazy,you feel so tired.The ache in your bones won't go away but you are here.Finally doing what you wanted to do.You're gonna meet him after so long.You open your phone's lockscreen to quickly look at riki's pic,he was smiling like a goofball with you in his arms posing for the photo.A lovely mirror selca is what it was.You fan yourself using your hands to make the heat in the atmosphere go away.It was really hot,you wish you dressed more lightly but you're more like all covered up.You thought it won't be that hot,well...your fault it is.You reach the destination as you look from side to side in search of the car the company has sent to pick you up.Suddenly you hear a horn from the far left corner and you recognise it.It's his manager's car.You cross the road cautiously reminding yourself to act like sola's close friend as you pull the black car's door.Making yourself comfortable in your seat,you pull back your phone and inform jay and jake that you're on your way.Taking in a deep breath you look out the window to stop being so nervous.The city was beautiful,just like riki mentioned in his chat with a fan that went viral.

The car pulls up to the hybe company,the big building standing tall in front of you.You look up to take a quick look as the sun hurts your eyes.You also click a photo as it's your first time visiting your boyfriend's workplace.Sighing you make your way into building by passing the revolving door.The interior was grand,well it had to be.It was the most famous k-pop agency after all,one of the big three's.They get the most money out the idols like your boyfriend.You enter the lift as you spot some staffs in there too.The manager guides you to enhypen's dance practice room.You hold your breath seeing the big bold inked letters on the door reading "Enhypen".You quietly push through the door,you could hear the new song blasting through the speakers and the loud instructions from the dance mentor.Heavy smell of sweat and cologne hits your nose as you step in.All of their heads turn towards you on the click of the door shutting except one,your boyfriend riki.

He's in the corner tired and unbothered.Sunoo gasps loudly as jake and jay remind him to treat you like sola's friend in hushed whispers.They exchange glances before calling riki and walk towards you.When riki really turns to look at you,he's surprised.He almost hugs you but jay stops him,telling him that there's a supposed hidden plan.He co operates though,sending quiet longing glances from his place.When the practice is over and everyone leaves including the staffs and his manager especially.He runs to you,arms woven around you as he pulls you in close leaving a relieved sigh.You bask in his warmth."Sorry,i was kind of off during the fan call" he says immediately.You pat him in the back to quietly let him know that it's okay.You pull back to look into his eyes before you place a quick peck on his cheek.He holds you like he's never letting you go."Seriously though,i never thought you would come this far to see me" he says with a grin."Just missed you,you know?" you try not to sound too cheesy but the laugh from him assures you that you just did sound cheesy.Now he's gonna tease you forever with it.That's what you think but "okay i kinda missed you too..." he says trailing of shyly.THE nishimura riki getting shy? No way...,you giggle to yourself and he only finds it more endearing.

The door opens and a figure emerges interrupting your moment,"oh sorry,i just left my airpods here" jungwon says cheekily before leaving the room with a thumbs up in your guys direction.You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding in,"scared much?" He says calmly toying with your baby hairs on your forehead.Sighing you say,"I don't know,i still feel so cautious around here as i lied saying that I'm your sister's friend".He waves it off dismissively,teasing you about being careful.You both decide to go to his dorm.You are greeted by loud screams when you step in,it's heeseung and sunghoon playing league of legends.Typical them,you sigh to yourself as you both head towards riki's room.Looking around his room,you see the joker figurine and some cool stuff that's just so him."Sit" he pats the edge of his bed,you comply sitting beside him.His hand extends to hold yours but he stops,"Wait....why is there dry skin around your nails?Have you been picking on them?" He says examining you.You stop fidgeting with the hem of your shirt "Oh,uh it's a habit of mine" you say drained of the energy you had now that you had to act like you were fine again."Don't ever do it again" he says before standing up to get a hand cream offering it to you.You apply it gently,the cream cool on your dry skin."I don't really use it but you should" he states while all you could think was how he can always see right through and how you always manage to hide it and get away.You've been playing these games with him for long enough,does he really not know? or is he just pretending?.Pushing out your thoughts you cuddle with him on the bed,his hands swung over you like a koala.Hours pass and you can't sleep much instead you prop yourself on your elbows, leaning against the headboard to look at his peaceful sleeping face.He probably must've thought you were asleep.The depressive thoughts resurface again,you try to push it out as tears silently fall from your eyes.You have been sleep deprived for long,it's disturbing.Insomnia was an issue solved long agao when you met him.Yet you are here again,in his arms right where you wanted to be but you can't seem to sleep and shake off those thoughts.They are becoming a part of you,slow and consuming.This time nothing makes it right,your heart still aches the same way when you miss him.It's like you have him right here in your arms but you can't reach him out for comfort.Is this real struggle?.You opt to quietly look at the clock and the slow rhythmic ticking of the clock spirals you into a deep slumber.

Days pass and you have a good time with riki,the thoughts consuming you momentarily.The final day arrives and you're left feeling empty at the start of the day.Grumbling to yourself you finish your breakfast.Then you go out with riki,spending time in places you didn't know existed.It was fun but you couldn't shake off the fact that this is the last day.The final day before you fall deeper without him.You want to keep seeing him but his job forbids you.Night arrives quickly and you make dinner with him,knowing nothing about cooking you both make a mess in the kitchen until jay arrives for rescue.Finally after dinner and some games,you're spent.Calling yourself out for a bathroom break,you stand in front of the mirror looking at your reflection,the colour draining from your face now that you're alone again.You fix your hair to cover your eyebags,pulling a few strands of hair infront of your face to look normal."I was thinking we should stay up late and play some video games" you yell closing the bathroom door to enter the living room only to find riki on the couch sleeping.Your eyes soften as you quietly try not to step on the legos you had built earlier.You plop on the couch beside him fidgeting with the hem of your oversized shirt.No,his oversized shirt.You consider taking it back with you when you leave next morning.

The members enter bidding you goodbyes and saying that they had a good time with you staying over in the dorm.You look off the whole time and the members notice it.Jay is the first one to question it,"Are you really that sad? He's gonna be back in a few months you know." he says trying to soothe you.Even if riki didn't sense it,the members had always known of your depressive side.Your smile fades quickly sometimes when you're alone and it is very noticeable.Maybe riki doesn't notice it since he's really close but everyone from a third person view can.You nod hesitantly,a tear slipping out before you can even stop it.The members face fall as they exchange worrisome glances.They offer you comfort and give their word that somehow they'll get riki to be in touch with you even when he's away from you.You can only glance at riki every now and then to assure that he's comfortable sleeping,half heartedly nodding at their words.They leave one by one and suddenly the living room is empty.It's just you again now.You place a feather light kiss on riki's forehead as you head towards his bedroom.You turn on the lights and start packing,stealing a few of his things and clothes.Throwing in some tees and hoodies of his,you still had a lot to pack.The night drags on as you stay awake and keep preparing for your flight tomorrow back home.You cover him with a blanket and leave a note on his table with few of your hair ties in the middle of your packing session.You know he loves wearing your hair ties around his wrist everywhere that fans question it sometime.

You leave early in the morning,jay the only one up to cook breakfast greets you as you have as your breakfast."Aren't you gonna wait up for ni-ki,you know say goodbye to him?" he says glancing at you."No but i did leave him a note,he'll know".Jay frowns but understands and bids goodbye as you finally step out of the dorm.The fresh air blesses your lungs as you wait for the cab to pick you up.The ride is silent and finally it pulls up to the airport.Dragging your suitcase along,you quickly look at your reflection on the airport floor again.You seemed so drained to yourself.Taking a seat nearby,you wait for your flight.You pull out your phone and check the time,riki must've been up by now yet you still recieve no texts.You smile sadly to yourself leaning back on your seat.It has always been like this.Push and pull with him was not fun to you.You wanted to keep in touch no matter what only for him to shut you off randomly,making you doubt your relationship with him.He acts like you don't exist at all,completely ghosts you but then again he is there holding you and making you happy.It was for him maybe not for you,when he needed a person to spend time closely with,he chose you.Maybe you should've stayed just a friend.The airport announcement shakes you out of your thoughts as you enter the plane and take your seat.

The jet lag catches up to you by the time you wake up to return back to your home.Weakly dragging your suitcase you take yet another cab to your home.You enter pocketing your keys after you unlock the door,the house still a mess just as you left it and you're here again to become one with it.A mess.It's the same the continuing days,he never texts,you cry questioning it again,the members try hard to make riki interact with you but he doesn't acting annoyed on the mere mention of your name,they hide it from you how he acts like he despises you.But you know from the lack of texts or calls once again that he's back to himself.Maybe it's just you who can't escape out of this with your depression and deep love for him.You hope everyday that you live a better life.Maybe next time,next life,maybe again with him but not like this.Not like reset and replay.

𝒞ℎ𝑒𝑓'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒:It's my first dish and the opening of my restaurant "The spice route".Hope you had a good meal!.Leave ratings!!. [✩✩✩✩✩/✩✩✩✩✩].

[enhawaria]

BETWEEN STAGES AND SECRETS

Part 1

Pairing: Ni-Ki x Reader

Genre: Romance, Tension, Backstage Vibes

Warnings: Intense kissing, subtle wandering hands, backstage heat

The audience was still screaming outside. The lights were flashing in the hallway to the dressing room. Ni-Ki came in, panting, his hair wet with sweat, his shirt stuck to his body. He threw the towel aside and looked at you with that crooked smile, the kind he only gave when he wanted to tease you.

“Did you see that?” — he asked, running his hand through his hair and coming closer.

“I saw everything.” — you answered, leaning against the wall, trying to look calm even with your heart racing like a marathon.

“So you saw when I looked to the side of the stage and smiled?”

You laughed, a little nervous.

“You smile at every show, Ni-Ki.”

He stopped right in front of you.

“But that one was for you.”

The silence that followed was heavy, dense, full of everything that couldn’t be said out loud. The distance between you two was almost zero now. His breath hit your face.

“You should be celebrating with the boys.” — you whispered, almost like a warning.

“I’d rather celebrate with you.”

His hand rested on your waist, firm, warm. His eyes never left yours. He leaned in, slowly, as if testing the limit between right and dangerous.

“What if someone comes in?” — you asked again, but didn’t even try to pull away.

Ni-Ki smiled, his lips almost on yours.

“Then close the door.”

And when he kissed you, it was with the same intensity he had when dancing: firm, determined, as if the world outside had gone silent. There was only the two of you, the sweat from the show, the heat from the light still on in the dressing room… and that desire that had been kept since the rehearsal.

[enhawaria]

❕— my burning heart, But I just wanna stay

— welcome to my blog ! — riki’s gf!

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