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puma-riki · 12 days ago

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Mine, mine, mine

You got control of me, baby? ─. Vampire bf! riki x fem! reader

~ synopsis. riki with grilled fangs. thats it. thats the plot

.⋆♱ warnings! description of sharp objects and blood

~ genre. fluff skinship est. relationship

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"Stop." Riki's monotone voice cuts through the comfortable silence in your bedroom and interrupts your prodding. He turns his head away and grabs your curious fingers that have been pushing up his lips.

"Ayeee, don't be a baby. I just wanna see." You say pulling your hand out of his gentle grasp so you can continue to attempt to pull at his upper lip.

He turns his head again.

You've been trying to get a look at his teeth, more importantly his fangs, for 30 minutes now. You'd caught him at his most vulnerable hour, when he's hungry. Riki is pretty good about regulating his hunger. He doesn't give into his most carnivorous desires, instead he's stocked up on blood bags. They're not the best thing in the world, but they do the job and they're pretty good at times. With the blood bags, he's tame– well, at least emotionally.

Parts of his superhuman body, don't typically take kindly to Riki's new vegan style of life. Yes, his hunger is satisfied, but it's not through the natural way vampires are designed for. Vampires are built to feed on humans and animals, which is why they have fangs. Instead, of hunting down prey and puncturing their skin with his knife-like teeth, he's sitting here in your bed sipping on a blood bag like a Capri sun.

Even though he is technically feeding, his body is still in drive, prepared to hunt, chase, puncture, and drink. The ache in his teeth has dulled, but he can't get them to retract. They probably won't until he's completely satisfied and who knows how long that'll take.

You had, unfortunately, been here to witness the beginnings of your boyfriend's insufferable supernatural body alert him that he was due for a drink.

You had watched him grow increasingly more and more restless as he tried to focus on a game he had been playing in the living room. You'd always known what he was, so of course you had at least some guesses as to why he kept holding his cheek like he'd had a tooth ache and was shifting positions 10 times in a minute.

Although you had known Riki was a creature of the night, whose nature was to drink the blood of unsuspecting victims. You'd never seen what he's like when his time to feed rolls around. So, when he let out a string of curses as his canines suddenly shot out and extended from his mouth, you were curious to say the least.

Which brings us to the present. The sun set an hour ago and the only noise in your room is from the bustling city below your apartment. You're situated on top of him, straddling his lap and fighting sleep, as he sits up against the headboard of your bed, half empty blood bag in one hand, and your wrist grasped in the other.

"Just let me see!" You huffed, wriggling your wrist free from his strong grip, yet again. You interlock your fingers with his and push his hand down to rest on his stomach, while you scoot closer to him.

"You're gonna hurt yourself. Leave my teeth alone, you freak." He screws his eyes shut and turns away from you. However, a laugh escapes his lips as he tries to evade your hands reaching up for his face. He wonders how low you must be running on sleep to be this delirious.

"Says you! C'mon please! I've never seen your fangs before. I'll only look, I won't touch, I promise!" You laugh along with him, releasing your hold on his hand as you take his face in your hands. He tightens his lips into a straight line, sealing away the treasures you seek inside.

"Pleaseeeeee." You draw out with a pout and looking right into his eyes with a gaze that should be illegal. You've got him trapped under your weight, staring at him with glossed over eyes that are wide with curiosity and admiration, and droopy with sleep.

Even though Riki possess all the strength and more to quickly and effortlessly escape from your hold and throw you off of him, he never seems to find the will to do so. He so often finds himself tripping face first into your every need. He folds under zero pressure for you. Like right now.

"Look don't touch." He mumbles through squished cheeks and rolls his eyes even though his skin is on fire and his dead heart lurches at the sight of your bright smile.

"Okay, Okay, now open!" Your voice is excited but hushed, as if Riki is about to reveal a heart kept secret. You scoot up closer in your excitement. Riki sets his blood bag aside on your nightstand and uses his now free hand to rest on your waist.

He reluctantly opens his mouth and bares his teeth. He almost shivers as your hands slowly trail from his cheek to his jaw, and to his chin. He silently watches you lower your head and lean in close to inspect his extended fangs.

You're in absolute awe.

As weird as it sounds, Riki's teeth are beautiful. Yes, you'd seen him smile before, but this is the first time you've seen his fangs. A part of him that's shunned by the outside world. And, my god, for all the wrong reasons.

His fangs were sculpted and gleaming white. Needle-sharp and deadly. They're longer than you expected them to be. Even more devastating–

They're grilled in silver.

"Are those silver grills on your fangs!?" You gasp. "Is that a thing? Is there, like, a vampire dentists-slash-jeweler I should know about?"

The silver catches in the light of your dimly lit room, etched with the tiniest designs– runes maybe? Or just something expensive looking and smug, like he knew exactly how ridiculously gorgeous he would look with weaponized jewelry in his mouth.

Riki scoffs beneath you, he'd probably have something smart to say if it weren't for you holding his mouth open like a dentist.

You weren't paying any attention to his response, you're completely enthralled by his fangs, tiny blades dipped in moonlight. The silver plates ran from the root of his teeth and all the way down to the tip, probably making them even sharper than they were originally. You wondered if they were as sharp as they look, would they be warm or cold to the touch like him.

You know you said you wouldn't, but you can't stop yourself. Your finger trails from his lip to the point of the grill. Like sleeping beauty to a spinning wheel, you prick your finger and flinch away.

You look up at Riki with wide panic filled eyes like a kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You're still a breath away from each other. He gives you a dead pan look.

"Alright, you're done." He says flatly, both of your wrists now caged in one hand like its nothing. His other hand brushes his thumb over the small amount of blood beading at your fingertip, then stills.

"No! It was an accident, I swear!" You try to reason. "I didn't think you were that sharp!"

He gives you a look. "I told you not to touch for this exact reason and they're literally knives in my mouth. What did you expect?"

You ignore him and lean in again anyway, eyes already dropping to his lips. "Just one more look."

"No."

"Rikiiiiii-"

"No."

You groan and deflate into his chest, hands still encaged by one of his. Your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck; his blonde hair tickles your cheek. "You're so mean to me. Just say you hate me." You mutter into the skin of his neck.

Riki's body shakes with gentle laughter at your dramatics. "Mean to you? I just let you poke around in my mouth and touch up on my teeth."

You sit up suddenly, wide eyed, and pressing your hands to his chest like you've just come to a sudden realization. Riki raises his brows at you. "I have questions."

"Oh brother," Riki lets his head fall back against the headboard, eyes closed, like he's praying for strength. You know he's not actually fed up with you because of the way his thumb rubs aimless circles on your wrist.

"Do all vampires have grills on their fangs? Like, is this a fashion trend among you guys? Or is this, like, standard issue for vampires? Wait, do the other guys have them– Does Sunghoon have grills too!?"

That gets his eyes open fast. He lifts his head to give you a flat, withering look.

"Please don't talk about another man's mouth while you're on top of me."

You burst out laughing, falling forward until your head rests on his shoulder again. "Okay, sorry, sorry." You manage between giggles, your forehead pressed to his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Your body shakes with the remnants of laughter, but it's tapering now. Fading into soft exhales.

The coolness of Riki's skin under your cheek, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the cool, familiar scent of his skin starts to lull you. Your limbs feel heavier now, molded to his like you belong there. You shift against him with a soft sigh, your eyelids fluttering heavy as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, your body draped over his like a sleepy cat who has absolutely no intention of moving.

"... You good?" he asks, voice low, fingers absent mindedly tracing slow, calming circles into your back.

"Mhm," you hum, the sound muffled into his shirt. You nestle in closer, shifting your weight to settle more comfortably across his lap like maybe you live here now. "You're really comfy. I might die here."

"I mean," He says dryly, brushing his nose against your hair, "I am kind of a coffin."

You let out a sleepy laugh. Your lips curling against his neck. And that's when, soft and sleepy and tucked against his throat like it's the safest place on earth, you murmur between a yawn. "I wish I had fangs like yours."

You shift away from his neck, just to rest your head on his shoulder to see his face. Your hand moves lazily. Fingertips drifting up to his mouth again, tracing his bottom lip with the same kind of reverence you'd use touching something ancient and holy. You gently pull the soft curve of it downward and watch it spring back into place, a quiet little bounce that makes your lips tug into a smile.

Riki doesn't reply right away.

Instead, he just looks at you. You, in his lap, unbothered and practically purring. You, sleepily trailing your finger over the mouth that've hurt people. You, tracing the silver dipped weapons in his jaw like they're nothing more than pretty ornaments. Admiring him for the very things he's learned to hide.

You should be afraid. Or atleast wary. But instead you're smiling and caressing him like he's something sacred.

And somehow, that undoes him more than hunger ever could.

Your finger continues its slow descent. From his lips to the sharp line of his chin, then ghosting down the hollow of his throat. You pause slightly at his Adam's apple, watching it bob as he swallows at your touch. You trail down again and let your hand rest on the center of his chest, where the rise and fall of his breath is calm, steady, and all yours.

Riki swears he can feel his undead heart trying to start back up again.

Riki hums faintly below you, amused and fond. "Mmm... I don't think you want teeth like mine."

"Maybe if I did," You murmer sleepily, lips brushing against his throat, "you'd listen to me more."

Then without thinking, because thinking takes too much energy when you're this tired and this in love, you press your lips to his neck and give him the gentlest, laziest bite. Not hard enough to leave anything behind, just enough to make him flinch slightly and laugh under his breath.

"Did you just-?" he begins, disbelieving.

The only response he gets from you is a soft giggle, and a kiss to his neck.

"You’re really tempting fate right now,” he warns, voice softer than the threat suggests.

"Mmm... Am I though?" you say, eyes close, but eyebrows raised.

He shifts suddenly—just enough to roll you onto your back, his hand braced beside your head as he leans over you. His blonde hair falls forward in wisps, shadowing his eyes, and his mouth is inches from your neck. His breath ghosts over your skin.

He bares his teeth.

Not biting. Just hovering.

You can feel the cold, sharp points of his fangs—still covered in silver—pressing lightly against the fragile skin just beneath your jaw. Not enough to break skin. Just enough to make your breath hitch.

Your fingers instinctively clutch at his shirt.

“Riki…” you breathe, not afraid—never afraid—but caught somewhere between a laugh and a shiver.

You're trying to pull him closer.

He doesn’t move for a moment. Just stays there, barely touching you, savoring the feel of your pulse racing beneath his mouth. It’s not about hunger. It’s about something else. Something bolder. Something harder to name.

Then he pulls back with a satisfied hum, pressing a feather-light kiss to the exact spot his fangs had hovered.

“Brat,” he mutters fondly.

You mumble something back, but it’s incomprehensible. Sleep is winning now.

"Says you..." he thinks is what you say.

And Riki… doesn’t move. He shifts only to settle beside you, one arm tucked under your head, the other wrapped firmly around your waist as you curl into his chest. Your breathing evens out quickly, soft and slow and completely at peace in his hold.

He stays awake.

Of course he does. He doesn’t need sleep—not like you do.

Instead, he watches.

Watches the way your fingers twitch slightly against his side as you dream. Watches the way your face softens, lashes resting on flushed cheeks. Watches the way your lips part just slightly, like you were still on the verge of saying something smart before sleep finally stole you away from him.

He’s used to being alone at night, but tonight it feels different. Full. Quiet in a way that makes his chest ache.

The possessiveness coils low and warm in his gut—protective, reverent, not ugly. You’re here. In bed with him. In his arms. And you don’t flinch from his fangs or the coldness in his skin. You wear your affection for him out loud, loud enough to drown out the silence he’s lived with for years.

He presses a kiss to your hairline and whispers like a secret, "Mine."

And then he stays like that until morning, still and watchful, while the world outside keeps on spinning.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧!)ᯓ★

@jiiyen @yangjungwonnie @amoressb @chrrific @stvrriki @hyukabean @firstclassjaylee ...loading

#???#THANK U FOR 1k NOTES WHAT THE FLIP

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puma-riki · 16 days ago

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literally seeing enhypen in 4 days i don’t know what to do with myself

I WILL post a no one noticed chapter before I leave for chicago tho i promise 😔🤞

#every time i try to chill i remember im seeing my ult group #irl #like with my own eyes #NIKI WITH MY OWN EYES

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puma-riki · 20 days ago

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Taglist 2: @cheruphic @luvashli @iittsbluuusblue @tubatyun @kirakun @staygenesblog @soulreaper05-blog @xuevkim @lycxee @riknywngi @sunoo-to-cleanse-the-soul @kikixdia @sunshisthings @deaddcrow @jawonnie @idknunsadly @lianahai @zoe1love @reikaxslvr @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @xo-tilwod @enha4ria @whattlulu @iikeu

No One Noticed...

Warnings: consistent cursing, kms/kys jokes,[Subject to change every chapter]

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

Taglist (open!): @bee-the-loser @iaintseggsy @channieismylove @yangjungwonnie @luluvhs @nikiswifiee @kingofthekards @skepvids @sammie217 @sh0dor1 @sirens-dreams @starfallia @polarisjisung @minhosimthings @mochiwonz @jiiyen @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @ritzy-dream-boy @roseangelxfuma @chrrific @stvrriki @eczlipse @ddolleri @dangerousgardenchild @roarr-ki @rikidaze @rinoosformstellation @domfikeluva @b0os-jellfyfish @wensurr @melancholy-z @brinethebean @sol3chu @luvjichang @aerijns @bananna-12 @jungwonsjellies @sumzysworld @right-person-wrong-time @rikikiynikilcykiki @pjselee @maniluvzyou @jungwonswife-real @annybah @flaminghotyourmom @vvenusoncasual @pookalicious-hq @criminaluv @raven-odyssey @rodelalaland @planetmarlowe @joonsprettygf @cherryangel-coke @wintereals

IGNORE TIME STAMPS !!

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Masterlist | Previous | Next

note: 3 updates in 2 days!?!?!? let's hope I don't die tomorrow because WOW

45. Get Cracking!

Images Used Are Meant To Be Used As References And Do Not Depict The Actual Appearances Of Characters !

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puma-riki · 20 days ago

Text

No One Noticed...

Warnings: consistent cursing, kms/kys jokes,[Subject to change every chapter]

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

IGNORE TIME STAMPS !!

———————————————————————————

Masterlist | Previous | Next

note: 3 updates in 2 days!?!?!? let's hope I don't die tomorrow because WOW

45. Get Cracking!

Images Used Are Meant To Be Used As References And Do Not Depict The Actual Appearances Of Characters !

#No One Noticed 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 #enhypen fluff #enhypen #enha fluff #ni ki smau #ni ki x reader #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki smau #ni ki fluff #enhypen smau #enha smau #enhypen fake texts #enha fake texts #enhypen fanfiction #nishimura riki fake texts #nishimura riki fluff

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puma-riki · 20 days ago

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DAMN GIRL I LOVE UR WORKS 😭 YOU TAKE REQUESTS TOO?!

MWAHAHAHAHHA THANK YOU ILY IM SO GLAD U LIKE THEMMM AND YESSSSS Ive always wanted to take requests but i lowkey wanted to wait until after i finished my smau, butttt im almost finished with it anyway and also seeing requests now rather than later would give me more time to brain storm yk

SO IF YOU WANNA REQUEST ANYTHINNGGGGG (as long as it’s not smut 😨) ill do write to the best of my ability (especially if it’s vampire enha omg)

#⭑𓂃𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚’𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔! ── .✦

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puma-riki · 20 days ago

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R U Ok?

R u okay? 참을 수 있겠니? ──── nerd! Jake x fem! reader

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ fluff est. relationship skinship kissing making out jake in glasses

~ Synopsis - Jake goes on a small rage rant about a shitty TV character and he looks a little too fine doing it

note: DOUBLE UPDATE WHO IS SHE rubbing my hands together like an evil fly writing this I love Jake and his weird ahh but anyway omg I wrote this for my lovely miseo soup @chrrific (like a week ago but I was putting off proofreading and editing sorry queen) after we took a love language quiz and got intellectuality as one of our top choices and I'd literally never heard of that before as a love language but imma tell you right now, its the best one. Anyway, convo spiraled from wanting an emotionally intelligent man who actually cares about things other than himself to making out with nerd jake so enjoy! AND BFYR: Minor TSITP spoilers!!! Jake is ranting about how awful Jeremiah, a character from the TV show The Summer I Turned Pretty, is as a boyfriend and just as a person in general to the main character, Belly (Her real name is Isabel don't ask me why she chose Belly as a nick name okay,,) All you really need to know is Jeremiah is the worst character ever, is a manipulative, stupid, impulsive, cheating, COLLEGE super-senior, frat manchild that should honestly just disappear off the face of the earth so Belly can finally be with his super-hot, Stanford premed student, older brother who is actually in love with her for who she is and isn't just with her because he doesn't want his brother to have her! Unlike a certain someone! #BellyWakeUp #DumpHim #IHateHerBf

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The opening credits rolled on the TV, casting flickering shadows across the dim living room. The scent of popcorn lingered in the air, but it had long since been forgotten in favor of the warmth that pooled between you and Jake on the couch.

Jake was on his fourth tangent about this show and his words came out faster the closer you leaned into him. Your arm was looped through his, your legs tucked under you and resting against his thigh under the throw blanket strewn across your laps.

You had begged Jake to watch The Summer I Turned Pretty with you since the trailer for the new season dropped. Now it was finally out, and you were completely absorbed in the mess that is this show.

Is it incredibly corny? yes. Are you still going to watch it? 100 percent.

"I actually fucking hate that guy." Jakes voice cuts through the silence as he huffs.

"Jeremiah?" You ask, stifling a laugh, eyes still on the screen.

"Yes!" Jake says exasperated, like he actually knows the guy. He suddenly sits up straighter, knocking the blanket askew and jostling your legs, which he silently apologizes for by rubbing your knee.

"Yes! Jeremiah! I swear he's like... he's like the worst possible boyfriend archetype," His voice is loud and irritated, but the lighthearted kind of irritated.

Or maybe the serious kind- because now he's dragging his hands down his face. "And not even in a redeemable, morally gray way. He's just- emotionally- he's like static! Zero development and we're already on season 3!"

You tried to stifle your laugh, turning your face into his shoulder.

Jake didn't notice. Or he pretended not to. His brows were furrowed, hands, flying in wild gestures as he adjusted his glasses and continued his passionate rant.

"He doesn't communicate, like, at all. It's always this broody, assholey 'I'm jealous but I'm not going to talk about it and ruin every ones mood with my pissy attitude' thing, and Belly's just so supposed to know how he feels? Like she's just supposed to read his emotional state and just understand everything like she's a mind reader."

You hum in agreement, and he takes that as encouragement. He's full on monologuing now. He's turning towards you now, bracing one arm on the back of the couch.

"And then, when he does talk about his feelings, it's all these vague and corny ass metaphors and dramatic sighs. Like bro, you are not a Byronic hero, you're just insecure and manipulative. Say what you mean! Use your words! Language is literally the foundation of civilization."

"Byronic hero?" you ask raising a brow.

He freezes mid gesture. The frustration in his voice melts into gentle explanation.

"It's like a character trope. They've got this moody rebellious vibe- very emotionally complex, usually with some kind of tragic or mysterious past"

His hands settle, one drifting down to your knee, casually tugging at the fabric of your pajama pants. His glassy eyes soften when they meet yours, the fire of his rant now replaced with something tender and melty. He's done a complete 180 from an absolute rage rant to a affectionate puppy.

"Oh," you say, a smile tugging at your lips. "So like Batman?"

Jake blinks, then grins- wide and stupid and hopelessly in love. "Yeah," he says mirroring your smile. "Exactly like Batman."

"Except that motherfucker wishes he was Batman. He-"And you've lost him again.

You're not even watching the show anymore. Or listening to Jake really-. Your eyes are locked on him. The way his hands move. How his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose every time he gets worked up, the faint blush on his cheeks from sheer frustration- or maybe lack of oxygen from how much he's talking.

You bite your bottom lip without even realizing it, watching the curve of his mouth as he talks, his hoodie sleeve scrunched at his forearm, exposing skin and veins you have absolutely no business staring at but can't help yourself. His black hair is messy and falls forward in furls that he has to run his hand through every few seconds.

He's still got an elbow propped up on the back of the couch, his body leaned towards you, his knee nudging yours under the blanket.

"And like, okay, you don't have to be perfect, but at least try to process your feelings instead of treating Belly like she's your emotional support girlfriend-slash-therapist. I swear he needs like, five years in therapy and a Beginners Guide of Self-Awareness- no, scratch that, he needs a flow chart. I could make one. Like a literal 'Think Before You Speak' decision tree-"

He pauses mid sentence.

Because you're staring at him. Not in a "I'm listening to you" way. In a "I'm two seconds from climbing you like a tree" kind of way.

Jake blinks. His hand falls from the couch and back to his lap, fiddling nervously with the blanket. He avoids eye contact with you.

"Uh...whats up?" he asks, voice suddenly a lot softer. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" You're playing dumb, and Jake knows that. You lean in a little closer, your hand sliding over his knee under the blanket, slow and deliberate.

Jake swallows. "You- you know what I mean." He can feel his face heating up and his heart rate pick up speed.

"Mmm... I don't know what you mean." You say, voice slow- way too much for Jake to handle.

"Are you- wait pause. Are you turned on right now? Because I'm slandering a fictional man?"

You bite back a laugh, but it turns into a grin as you scoot closer to him to close the space between you, eyes flicking from his lips to his flushed cheeks,

"It's not the slander," You murmur. "It's the way you talk. You're so..." Your words trail off as your eyes drift back down to his lips and Jake audibly gulps. You kiss him once, short, just enough to make him chase you. "-smart. And you're kind of pretty when you're frustrated."

Jake short circuits

He watches you, dazed, your eyes reflect the dim lighting in the living room and trail up his arms, his chest, his lips, and finally his eyes. You bite your bottom lip again and Jake can feel his brain physically melting in his skull.

"Wow- HA- it is... really hot in here!" Jake blurts out, voice an octave too high. He lets out a breathless laugh as he practically leaps up from the couch, shuffling backwards to create some distance between him and your intoxicating presence.

"Are you hot?" He asks, scrunching his eyebrows in questioning, one hand pointing at you and the other pulling at the collar of his hoodie.

You can't help but snort at how your boyfriend has basically teleported to the end of the couch, huddled up in the corner of the sectional like he's been cornered by a predator.

"I'm actually really cold..." You pout, already beginning to crawl towards him.

"You're such a liar." Jake accuses. He tries to retreat deeper into the cushions, both forearms now braced against the back of the couch like he's trying to keep you at bay with the power of sheer will.

"Am not." Your pout deepens, now you're right on top of him. Literally. Both of your knees hug his hips, and you settle on his lap with an ease that makes Jake visbily forget how to breathe. Your hand slowly, excruciatingly so, slides up his chest, and you can feel his heart hammering against your palm like its trying to escape.

"Won't you help me, Jakey?" You ask sweetly, tilting your head.

You're about to ruin his entire nervous system with how hot he feels. jake's mouth opens. Closes. No words.

Just the softest, more broken sounding, "Oh my god."

You lean in, your lips ghosting over his jaw, then the corner of his mouth.

Jake makes a sound- half gasp, half whimper- his hands balling into fists on the back of the couch, unsure if he's allowed to touch you yet. If he does, he knows he's never leaving the couch again.

"Y-You're being really unfair right now," he mumbled, voice breathy and cracking.

"Oh?" you whisper, brushing your lips against his. "How so?"

Jake doesn't even know. His brain is fried beyond repair. Still he tries to gather something so he doesn't look like an absolute idiot underneath you.

"I was- in the middle of a point." he says, sounding genuinely betrayed, like you interrupted a thesis defense.

"Awh, I'm sorry Jakey." Your empty apology leaves your mouth so softly and so sweetly, he would have believed you if he wasn't one heartbeat away from blacking out. The hand resting on his chest travels further up. You hook two fingers in the collar of his hoodie and pull. You can feel his erratic breath catch on your lips.

"Go ahead." You murmur. "I'm listening, I promise."

Again. No idea what he was talking about prior. All he knows is you're sitting on top of him like you literally just fell from heaven and your hands are all over him.

Jake blinks hard, rebooting.

"Right..." He exhales shakily, really trying to pull any coherent thought he had just 5 minutes ago to the forefront of his brain. But he can't.

"I- can't think when you're on top of me like this." He confesses, finally meeting your gaze, "Like, not even a little bit."

You hum, smile tugging at your lips. "Thats okay. I like when you're stupid too."

You kiss him properly now, and he folds immediately- his hands abandon their place on the back of the couch and clutch at your waist, thumbs digging into the fabric of your pajama pants like you've just unplugged him from reality.

His lips are soft, desperate, like he's kissing you with everything he has and it still doesn't feel like enough. He keeps trying to deepen it, glasses jostling on his face as he does, like if he can just get closer, he'll stop feeling like he's floating six inches above his own body.

One hand moves up your back, tentative at first, then clutching like he needs something to anchor him. He inhales sharply when you shift in his lap, and the sound he makes is embarrassingly close to a whimper.

You smile against his mouth. He's so gone.

Still- because he is who he is- Jake tries to rally.

"Wait- wait, okay-" He pants between kisses. "I just- I feel like I was saying something about—mmph— narrative structure— or maybe it was— God I don't even know, was it emotional stakes?"

You begin kissing down the side of his neck, slow and soft. His hands twitch.

"I had a point, I swear," he mumbles, breath hitching. "There were, like, layers. I used the word Byronic at some point."

You hum as you press your mouth to the spot just below his ear. "I believe you."

Jake practically combusts.

"You're- this is illegal," he whines, letting his head fall back against the couch and dragging his hands up under the hem of your shirt but not going any further. "I'm being seduced during a media critique."

You pull away from him fully, so you can look at him.

"I'm sorry, baby." You can't help but laugh at his dramatics and how much of a mess he looks: hair tousled, lips shining and just a bit swollen, glasses slightly fogged and skewed, and eyes glassy and absolutely smitten.

"I just-" You look away from him, but you can feel his eyes dragging across your face. You hum, trying to find the words as your hands smooth out the fabric on his shoulders. "I just like how passionate you are about things, even if it's over a dumb character you hate from my show."

Jake feels like his heart is about to give out. Because of the way you're smoothing out the wrinkles in his hoodie. Because of how breath taking you look, still on top of him, eyes glued to what your hands are doing. Because of how shy you've suddenly turned after saying you like how he shows interest in things you like.

"And..."

Your movements slow on his chest and your hands snake up to wrap around his neck. You're still looking away from him, eyes glued to a random spot over his shoulder.

"...I like how understanding you are. You use words I've never heard before in my life and you take time to explain what you mean without making me feel stupid for not understanding." A soft smile plays on your lips while you run your fingers through the hair starting at the base of his neck.

When you finally decide to look Jake in the eyes, he has the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. He doesn't say a word. Just looks at you.

'What?" You burst into a fit of giggles, feeling a bit self-conscious at his unresponsiveness.

"I think I'm in love with you."

"Well... I would hope so, I am your girlfriend." You say, shrugging your shoulders and giving him an awkward smile, "Or else this would be really embarrassing."

You're his girlfriend. You've been his girlfriend for almost 2 years and still, hearing it out loud makes butterflies scatter in his stomach.

Jake hums, eyes flicking down to your lips, then up to your eyes. "Can I have another kiss."

You don't even say anything, just laugh and give him what he asks for, leaning in to kiss him again.

Jake's glasses shift awkwardly on his nose, bumping against your cheek. He lets out a flustered noise of protest.

"Wait— shit—my glasses—sorry." He fumbled, trying to adjust them one-handed without pushing you off. Or far.

You giggle, reaching up to gently take them off for him.

His breath catches.

"Hey, what—what are you doing?" he asks, eyes wide as you slide them off and lean back to set them carefully on the coffee table.

"They're fogging up," you murmur. "And they keep getting in the way."

Jake stares up at you, stunned, glasses-less and helpless. How is he supposed to see you clearly now.

"But I need those..." he says, voice cracking like you just told him you were taking oxygen out of the room. "I'm like, legally blind. I'm emotionally compromised and visually impaired"

You tilt your head, smiling down at him, hands gently threading through his hair. "You'll survive."

Jake lets out the most pathetic little noise. "That's not guaranteed-"

You kiss him again, and any lingering thoughts he had—about his glasses, story arcs, character flaws, or general structure of fiction scatter into the wind like dust.

He kisses you back harder, more desperate now, arms fully wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him like he needs to memorize every inch of you. His lips move sloppily against yours, like he's trying to tell you everything he's feeling without using words for once.

"You're gonna kill me," he mumbles against your lips. "This is how I go. This is it."

You laugh softly, your nose brushing his. "Shut up and keep kissing me."

He does.

Eagerly. Stupidly. With his whole nerdy, overwhelmed, besotted heart.

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puma-riki · 20 days ago

Text

Sip, Sip, Sip

boom boom bang bang bang black it out! ──. vampire! n. riki x fem! reader

~ Synopsis: Part two of Mine, mine, mine and based off this request!

.⋆♱ warnings! mentions and descriptions of sharp objects, blood, biting, and passing out

~ genre - fluff est. relationship skinship

note: guys I'm going to be so honest with you I FEEL LIKE THIS IS SUCH A FLOP IM SO SORRY. But i'm posting it anyway because I've been sitting on this idea for like weeks... I literally wrote three different versions of this fic and this is the final result. If anyone has any riki vampire ideas (or the rest of enha) hit up my ask box immediately. Also Sunghoon cameo has me feeling things... mayhaps I will write Vampire bf Sunghoon next...

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Thunder cracks.

You jump further into Riki's arms.

"I thought it wasn't that scary." he snorts, but he still moves his hand up and down your shoulder in comfort.

"Shut up." you roll your eyes at him and turn back to the TV in front of you.

He just smiles. The TV is playing some horror movie that you and Riki have both been wanting to watch, despite you being a scaredy cat and flinching whenever something even remotely scary pops up on screen.

But who is he to complain when it means you push yourself further into his side.

You're both at his place. You're curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, arms crossed, and blanket draped over your legs. You're staring intently at the screen in front of you, dragging your finger across your bottom lip in anticipation. Riki sits beside you, arm draped over your shoulder, and man spreading like he owns the entire couch.

Riki is trying to focus on the movie. Really, he is, but he feels something crawling up from the pit of his stomach. There's a faint throb in his teeth .

It had to be now of all times?

He grabs the remote sitting next to him, hitting pause on the movie and untangling himself from you as he stands. "I'll be right back."

"What?! You did that on purpose; this is like the climax of the movie!" You huff sitting up just as abruptly as the movie was paused.

"I'll be like a minute tops." He laughs already walking away from the couch. "You'll be fine."

"Hurrryyyy," you whine, throwing yourself back against the cushions defeated.

He shakes his head, still smiling as he heads into the kitchen. The fridge hums softly when he opens it, the bright light spilling over his face. He peers insied, eyes flicking automatically to the middle shelf-- where a small container usually rests

There it is.

The smile slips from is face immediately

The container is there... but its light. Too light. He yanks it out, heart starting to pound for an entirely different reason, and he flips the lid open.

Empty. Completely, utterly empty.

"What...the fuck.." he mutters, voice low and tense as he sets the container aside and starts rifling through the fridge like bags might magically appear underneath something else. Theres a suspicious jar of kimchi, a half-eaten salad you insisted on saving two days ago, and a single can of sparkling water-- but no blood bags

Okay.

Okay, this is fine.

He kneels, yanking open the drawers at the bottom of the fridge. Sunghoon usually tries to hide a couple down there for himself. Theres probably some in-

Nothing.

Riki slams the drawer shut a little harder than intended. He's trying to breathe through it, trying not to let the prickling heat in his chest spiral into full-blown panic. It's still fine. It hasn't gotten bad yet.

Okay....

Jungwon sometimes keeps a few bags in the freezer. He likes them slushy, says they hit different that way-- not Riki's preference, but desperate times.

He flings open the freezer, ice cold air hitting his face

The freezer is dead empty. Not a single frostbitten bag in sight. Just a tray of ice cubes and a lonely box of expired dumplings.

His stomach twists again, this time sharper, deeper. Like something primal is starting to stir.

This is not happening.

He presses the heel of his hands to his eyes, trying to get a grip. If you find out, you'll worry; even though you've seen him at his worst, even though you know what he is, he hates the idea of you seeing him like this. Starving. Edging closer to the thing he's always afraid of becoming.

"What are you doing?"

Riki visibly jumps. The freezer door slams shut with a loud metallic clang as he whirls around.

You're standing there, right in front of him, arms folded, one eyebrow raised like you already know he's up to something.

He recovers quickly, leaning back against the fridge with studied ease, as if he meant to look this casual all along. His eyes are steady, a little too steady.

"Nothing." he says smoothly.

You snort. "Sure, looks like nothing," you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm as you reach past him to grab the handle of the fridge. He puts all his weight against the door.

"What are you doing?" he asks, flipping the question back at you like its some kind of game.

"I'm hungry." you raise a brow at him again.

"If you're hungry, I can order you something." he says quickly, taking your hand from the door and intertwining your fingers. "Sushi, ramen, anything you want."

You narrow your eyes, at your hands and then at him. "Why won't you move?"

"No reason." His voice is still calm, but there's a faint tension behind it now. The kind that slips through the cracks when someone's trying too hard to seem unaffected. "Plus, you know there's nothing in there for you. No one in this house actually eats."

You glance past him at the sealed fridge door, totally unconvinced. "Is this a vampire thing? Are you, like, resource guarding? Do I need garlic or like... a squirt bottle?"

"Funny,' Riki mutters, trying to play off your teasing, but the words land a little flat.

You grin, undeterred. "Wait-- are you molting or something? Do vampires molt? I mean it would make sense, because you guys are kind of like bats, right? --"

You're still talking, voice playful, your head tilting side to side as you lean into your string of absurd theories. "Or no-- maybe its like a second puberty situation, but with fangs and--"

He doesn't hear the rest, as your hand, much to his dismay, slips out of his.

He can't.

Because its slowly becoming all too much. Too close. Too loud.

You're right in front of him, standing with your fingers casually resting on the fridge handle-- just a few inches from his chest. He's still leaning back, trying to look casual, but there's nowhere to go now. Nowhere to run. Not from you. Not from this.

His sense have turned against him.

He can hear your pulse, steady and warm, drumming a slow rhythm beneath your skin. He can smell the soft, familiar scent of your perfume-- sweet, grounding-- but it's laced with something sharper, heavier. Blood. Not spilled, not exposed, but there, just beneath the surface of your soft tantalizing skin.

It's like its calling to him.

His stomach clenches. The ache has deepened into something more primal, a hunger that snarls and coils beneath his skin. And then he feels it: the unmistakable pull, the sharp pressure in his gums. His fangs are fully extended now and aching.

Shit.

If you see them, you'll freak. And possibly try to jump him just to get a glimpse.

He lifts a hand and casually covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, resting his index finger along his cheekbone as if he's deep in thought-- completely focused on your ridiculous vampire molting theory. He nods along like he's invested, tapping his finger against his cheek in mock consideration, trying to keep his breathing even.

Don't look too long. Don't lean in. Don't even sniff the air, for god's sake.

You can feel the shift.

You've lost your own train of thought. He's not even looking at you now. His eyes flit to the side, then the floor, then the wall. Anywhere but your face. His shoulders are stiff, and there's a tension in his body that wasn't there before. Like he's holding something in.

You pause, suddenly aware of the stillness between you

He's leaning against the fridge like its the only thing keeping him upright. Your hand is resting on the fridge handle, but your eyes are on him now. Really on him.

His lashes flutter, his jaw is tight. You can see the muscles on his neck twitch.

He's not nervous.

He's struggling.

A soft pang pulls at your chest.

You stop talking.

"Hey..." you voice drops, the teasing edge gone, replaced with something quieter, gentler. So sweet it makes him ache. "What's wrong?"

You reach out and run one of your hands down his arm slowly, from his bicep to his forearm, you leave your other hand to rest on his wrist, trying to gently pull his hand away from his face. He shivers under your touch, goosebumps rippling along the surface. He doesn't move. Doesn't even breath, like he's afraid.

"Nothings wrong." he says quickly, matching the softness of your voice but trying to play it off casually, again, like you're both still messing around.

But the way he says it, all forced cool and a bit shaky.

"Yes, there is." you say, looking up at him. your hands rest on his arms now. Your gaze meets his; steady, warm, full of nothing but love and concern. "Come on. Tell me?"

You watch the way his expression flickers, falters. You see the cracks forming in the facade. He blinks a few times too fast. His lips part, then close, then part again.

Sensing his hesitance. "Please?"

And that's what finally makes him fold. His hand comes down from his mouth, revealing the sharp, silver point of his fangs peeking over his bottom lip.

He exhales slowly-- a deep, shaky breath that seems to deflate his entire chest.

"I'm hungry," He admits, voice barely above a whisper. "And... there's nothing in the fridge. We're out of blood bags."

You don't say anything yet. You just keep looking at him, and he goes on.

"I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to freak out. Or feel like you had to..." his voice trails off, he swallows. "...do anything." His voice is uncertain. He doesn't know how else to say it.

The words hang in the air between you.

You don't respond right away.

He doesn't look at you, not fully, his eyes drift downwards and he reaches out and fiddles with the hem of your shirt, jaw tight. He's ashamed for even saying that much.

You stay quiet.

Because you get it.

You know what he means. Not just the words- but the weight behind them. The fear. Not just of hurting you, but of what it would mean to even need you like that. The idea of feeding on you- it terrifies him. Not just the act itself, but the vulnerability of it. The danger. The trust it would require. The chance that something might go wrong.

And yet... you've never been scared of this side of him. Not once. If anything, the way he tries so hard to protect you from it makes you trust him more. And makes you love him more.

So you think it through.

You imagine it. Letting him. You'd be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about it before. It sounds... kind of romantic, actually. Letting him because its him. Because no part of him has ever truly frightened you. Even now, with his fangs barely visible, silver glinting under the kitchen light, and the hunger still burning in his eyes.

You know he'd rather starve than risk hurting you.

And thats exactly why you trust him.

So gently, carefully, you test the waters.

"You know..." you start, voice soft, leaning into him. "I wouldn't mind if you..."

Riki's head snaps toward you before you can finish.

His hand comes up immediately, but careful, cupping your cheek with surprising urgency, the pad of his thumb brushing just beneath your eyes as he shakes his head, eyes wide with refusal.

"No," he says firmly, shaking his head, his voice suddenly more alert but still holding onto that soft tone. "No, I could never ask you for something like that."

"It's not asking." you say softly, leaning just a little into his touch. "I'm offering."

He swallows hard, fingers twitching against your skin.

"I know you," You continue, calmly and steadily. "I know you'd never hurt me. You'd never even let yourself get close to that."

He doesn't respond right away. Just stares at you with something aching and overwhelmed flickering behind his eyes. Part of him believes you. But another part is caught in that spiral of guilt and self-doubt, where feeding from you feels like crossing a line he swore he never would.

You give him time. You don't push.

You just stay close.

"You're not as dangerous as you think you are," you say after a moment. Quiet but sure. "You never have been."

His thumb brushes your cheek again, slower this time.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, he lets himself really look at you.

The girl who's asking him to feed on her. The same one who asks him ridiculous questions about vampires. The same one who sits on top of him and pokes and prods at his fangs in awe.

"You're really weird." He mutters. His head falls back with a soft thunk against the fridge, eyes still glued on you.

You scoff. "Excuse you."

But there's no bite behind it. Your heart's thudding in your chest. Not from fear or nerves. Just from the closeness. The possibility of what's about to happen. The way he looks half pained and half mesmerized.

And you're not wrong.

Riki's mind is racing now. Not from just hunger anymore, but from the fact that you're letting him do this. From the way you smell this close, warm and soft, perfume curling around your blood like the two were made to go together. From the way your hand is still resting lightly on his bicep like its no big deal, like he's not seconds away from losing it.

"Are you sure?" He asks. His voice suddenly switching from that lighthearted jab to soft reassurance. His hands come to rest at the curve of your waist.

Your heart rate picks up speed. And he hears it.

"Mhm." You don't trust yourself to speak

He moves. He takes slow steps forward and backs you into the kitchen island behind you.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." he whispers, His hands slide down to the back of your thighs. Then in one swift motion, he lifts you, hands firm and careful, and sets you gently onto the cool marble counter. Your thighs part slightly to make room for him to step between them.

Your breath catches as he leans in, one hand settling at the back of your neck, the other braced at your hip. You're eye level now, and he's close. So close you can see the silver glint of his grills when he parts his lips.

"Okay?" he whispers, voice low, wrecked, and reverent. He searches your eyes for any kind of hesitance, resistance, of disgust or fear.

He finds nothing.

"Okay," You nod. Sliding your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

You're so close now his breath grazes your collarbone, uneven, warm. He presses a slow kiss to the apple of your cheek, then the corner of your jaw. His nose brushes the shell of your ear as he tilts his head toward your throat.

Maybe, if Riki's senses weren't running haywire, and if you weren't so close and all-consuming to him, he would have taken this slower.

The fangs pierce your skin with surprising ease. Sharp, sure, delicate, and cool. But then its warm, almost burning, like a spark running down the side of your neck, but it spreads fast. Deep. And then...

Riki groans against your skin. He pulls you closer, just slightly, so your body presses flush against his, and his lips seal over the mark. You feel the suction, the soft pull of him drinking, and it's intimate in a way nothing has ever been. Not just physical- its raw, instinctive. His entire body is trembling against yours, every muscle taut like he's barely holding himself back.

And the sound he makes- low, guttural, like relief and ecstasy tangled in one- hits you right in the chest.

Being this close to you is driving him insane.

You feel his grip tighten slightly, fingers digging into your waist, into your neck. His breath shudders every time he swallows.

He should stop.

He knows he should stop.

But the second your blood touches his tongue, he forgets what reason even feels like.

It's perfect- warm and rich, sweet with that undercurrent of something distinctly you. It's nothing like the blood bags, like the cold, sterile taste of survival. This is alive, and it seeps into every nerve like it was made for him.

And you're close.

He can feel your heartbeat, rapid and steady, racing against his lips like a drum. Your chest rising and falling, pressed against his. The soft way your fingers are tangled in his hoodie, gripping him. Your legs loosely circled around his hips now, like you're inviting him closer.

He can smell everything. The warmth of your skin, the perfume you always wear, the faint scent of your shampoo, and the faintest trace of salt on your neck. It's intoxicating. All of it. You are.

And the longer he drinks, the more the rest of the world starts to fall away.

The humming in his hears drowns out everything else. His senses are narrowed down to just you; taste, scent, heartbeat, skin. The soft barely-there sounds you make when his mouth shifts.

It starts to fade.

Slowly. Not all at once.

Your heart slows. The warmth pressing into his chests eases. Your hands, once curled tightly in his shirt, loosen just slightly. Your breathing is shallower now.

Then he hears your voice- soft, broken, like your slipping through a dream:

"...Riki..."

It's weak. Almost not there at all.

And then your body sags against him- completely and your head falls snug into the crook of his neck.

His eyes snap open.

"Hey-" he jerks back instantly, his arms catching you before you can slump forward completely. "Wait. hey-!"

He has to pick your head up from his shoulder and move back to see your face. Your eyes flutter, cheeks tilting into his palm. You're not out yet, not fully, but you're on the edge, swaying slightly, breath warm but unfocused.

Riki pulls back, panicked and careful, cupping your face in both hands.

"Hey, look at me. [Name]. [Name]." His voice is soft but frantic, like he's afraid to be loud but terrified to lose you even for a second.

Your lashes flutter again. You manage a tiny, sleepy, "Mmhmm."

"You passed out," he breathes, half laughing in disbelief as you sway again. He slips one arm fully around your back, holding you steady against the counter.

"God, I- You seriously just-?"

"Really?" you mumble, already leaning into him.

"You were supposed to stop me," he mutters, pulling you into a hug, relief rushing in now that he knows you're okay.

"Sorry," you give a sleepy giggle, it then fades Riki feels you go limp against him. Again.

"Wh- hey, hey, hey! You have to stay awa- Shit."

You wake up with a light in your eyes. You blink them open to see a sliver of sunlight peering in from between Riki's black out curtains, and its path stretches from the window, across the bed, and right over your eyes.

You let out a soft groan and throw an arm over your eyes, snuggling further into the pillow. alas the light still peeks in.

And then it's gone.

You let your arm drop back against the mattress and open your eyes. Riki is sitting in his computer chair, he must've pulled from his desk to the side of the bed, and his arm is extended to hold the small gap between the curtains closed with one hand.

"Sorry," he whispers, not sure if you're entirely awake and processing the real world.

You let out and irritated exhale through your nose and he winces.

"Why are you all the way over there?" Your voice is hoarse, scratchy with sleep but still threaded with that familiar and expectant tone.

Riki blinks, he wasn't expecting you to speak just yet. His hand is still holding the curtain shut, fingers clenched a little too tightly around the fabric. He slowly lets it go, sunlight slicing back into the room, but missing your face this time.

"I didn't want to wake you. You were out for a while." he doesn't tell you the whole truth, that he didn't feel like he deserved to be lying next to you.

You blink slowly at him, then pat the empty space beside you with a lazy, impatient hand. "Will you lay with me?"

He gives you a look, part concern, part guilt, part really?. You just keep staring at him, pout creeping onto your lips.

"Pleaseeee," you drag out a whine, moving your hand back and forth on the bed, much like you would when trying to call a cat. "It's hot...and lonely."

Riki doesn't move, he's still sitting on that stupid chair with an even stupider grin on his face. "Wow, so you just wanna use me as your personal cooling blanket."

You drop your head dramatically back against the pillow. "Stop being weird and get in the bed, Riki."

He huffs a quiet laugh under his breath as he stands and finally climbs in, careful not to jostle you too much. You scoot over immediately, hooking a leg around his. He settles under the blanket and lays his head on the pillow, eye level with you. One of your hands rests under your cheek and the other reaches for his. He watches as you intertwine your hands together and bring them close to your chest.

A beat passes, where you both just look at each other. His free hand shifts, brushing your hair back from your neck, fingertips ghosting along the edges of the bandage at your neck.

"Does it hurt?"

You shake your head slightly, then pause, you didn't even know there was a bandage over your neck until he touched it. "Just sore. Did you put a bandage on it while I was asleep?"

"Well yeah," he says furrowing his brows at you. "I did bite you, so it was bleeding a lot."

"Mmm." you hum, remembering that did indeed happen. You get a giddy feeling in your chest when memories of last night flash in your mind. The heat of his body against yours. How he badly he needed you. His teeth sinking into your skin.

His teeth.

"What are y-" Without warning, you reach up and press your thumb to the corner of his mouth and lift his upper lip like you're inspecting a bitey little show dog.

"Awe man," you pout, letting his lip go.

"Did you just check my teeth to see if my fangs were there." he deadpans, but he still has that dreamy glint in his eyes.

"I like your teeth." you say simply, pout still present on your lips. He just stares at you for a moment and sighs.

"You are seriously so weird," he mutters.

"Hey, I think they're cool." you nudge his shoulder, rolling your eyes.

"Mmm, you don't say."

"I do say, in fact..." you turn on your back to face the ceiling and give him a sideways glance. Riki raises a brow. "...I think I wanna get my bite mark tattooed."

"...You're funny."

A smile breaks out on your face. You laugh and turn back on your side to face him. "I'm serious. I think it's kinda romantic, I dunno." And you shrug, like what you said is totally normal and doesn't send Riki's head spinning.

"How is that, in anyway, romantic?" He laughs.

"You just wouldn't get it." you sigh wistfully, closing your eyes, totally content with your delusion.

Riki snorts, "I don't think you want a tattoo."

"You say that about everything. I am a grown woman, I can get a tattoo if I want." you murmur, opening one eye to glare at him.

He shrugs his shoulders, "Well, if you insist. Tattoos hurt way more than a bite does, especially over the bone."

You pause.

Your eyes narrow.

"...How would you know?"

Riki turns onto his back, one hand behind his head and his lips twitch into the smallest, smuggest smile. Like he knows exactly what he's doing. He shrugs lazily. "I just heard that. Y'know. Somewhere."

You sit up suspicious, blanket falling around your lap. "Do you have a tattoo."

"No." he says a little too quickly, he looks straight into your eyes. A teasing glint behind them that makes you think otherwise.

Your jaw drops. You untangle your hand from his.

"What? I'm serious, I don't-"

But you're already on the move. You grab the hem of his hoodie and yank it up before he can stop you.

"Hey-!"

"there's nothing here." you frown, peering way too close at his side, like its a puzzle you're solving.

"Put my hoodie down you perv," He accuses, pulling the hem back down and out of your hands.

You click your tongue. "Why did you flinch so hard if there's nothing there." You reprimand, slapping his shoulder, to which he also flinches at.

"I'm ticklish!"

"You're full of shit is what you are!"

Between your laughter, a soft knock sounds from the door. You both turn your heads to see Sunghoon poking his head in through the door, hair slightly wind-tossed.

"I come bearing gifts." he announces, stepping fully into the room with a smug grin, the door left ajar behind him.

Your eyes lock on the white take out bag swinging from his hand and you sit up straighter, still nestled in the blankets. "Yes, yes, come in." you say in a faux aristocratic tone, waving him toward you with an exaggerated flourish.

Sunghoon chuckles and stops at the edge of the bed, rustling through the bag. He pulls out a tall, clear container, warm condensation fogging up the inside. "This is egg drop soup."

You reach out eagerly, accepting it with both hands like its something sacred. The plastic utensils clatter softly in its packaging as he hands you them as well. "I love egg drop soup," you murmur, lips jutting slightly in an affectionate pout.

Sunghoon pats your head. "And there's a thing of chicken and fried rice in here when you want it." He says placing the bag on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water he'd been carrying in his other hand.

You cradle the soup against your chest like its a newborn. "Sunghoon, I'm so happy I could cry."

"Well, no need to thank me. Ni-ki put in the order, he just told me to pick it up." He grins, then adding softly, "Among other things."

You stop fumbling with the lid to the container to look up at him and then at your boyfriend. "What does that mean."

"Nothing. It means nothing." Riki cuts in hastily from beside you, reaching over to peel the lid off for you. He refuses to meet your eyes, and it only makes your suspicion grow.

Sunghoon's grin spreads ever so slightly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Last night, after you passed out," he begins, voice lowered dramatically. "Ni-ki freaked out-- like legit."

You blink, surprised. Your calm, cool headed boyfriend was freaking out. Over you passing out. You mirror Sunghoon's grin, endeared. "Really?"

"Okay, you can leave now!" Riki speaks again.

He's ignored again.

"Oh yeah," Sunghoon says, nodding with a barely concealed grin. "First it was, 'Sunghoon, should we call an ambulance?' then it was, 'Sunghoon should be buy a defibrillator? like off amazon?'

You glance at Riki, who's flopped onto his stomach with his face buried in the pillow. You try not to laugh.

"And then he started pestering Jay about what kinds of foods are good for recovery, what vitamins help replenish blood- he raided Sunoo's room right after actually. Dude opened like seven health tabs on my laptop."

"What a cutie." You snort, but you mean it.

"Right." Sunghoon agrees. A muffled groan come from beside you.

"Do you feel any better?" Sunghoon softens slightly as he asks, just as you're taking a sip of your soup. He places the cold back of his head against your forehead.

"Mhm." You hum, before you swallow the warm broth. "Did he do this too?" You ask, eyes shining as you point to the bandage on your neck.

Sunghoon looks to where you're pointing. "the bandage? Yeah, he patched you up and sat there watching you the whole time."

You smile to yourself, warmth blooming in your chest.

"Well, anyway. Eat your soup, don' t torture your nurse too much." He teases, walking towards to the door.

"Thank you," you call sweetly.

He's halfway out the door when you suddenly sit up straighter, soup still in hand. "Oh! Sunghoon!"

He pauses, turning back with his eyebrows raises.

"Do you have grills on your fangs?"

Riki shoots his head up from his pillow. Sunghoon blinks, before laughing, "What?"

"Your fangs," you repeat, grinning and pointing to your own teeth. "Like the tooth gems? The shiny ones? Do you have those?"

Sunghoons brows lift in realization, "Oh. Me? Nah. I'm all natural," He smiles cooly, running his tongue across his, very prominent, upper canines before slipping through the door.

The door clicks shut behind him.

You smile, settling back into the bed with your soup feeling very satisfied.

"Uhm. Hello?"

You whip your head to the side. Riki is now propped up on his side, giving you a very dissatisfied look. His blonde hair is tousled from moving around on the pillows and he's pouting. barely, but it's there

You just stare at him for second, biting back your smile. The image of him last night flashes through your mind, him frantic and fussing, ordering soup and googling vitamins, worrying himself sick while you were having the best sleep of your life.

Now he's sulking over you asking his friend about his fangs.

Again.

He's so cute.

You say nothing, just lean forward and press a quick kiss to his lips. Soft, sweet, and entirely unbothered.

"Mwah, I love you."

Then you turn back to your soup like nothing happened, smiling into the rim of the container. You pretend not to hear the quiet breath escape him, for his sake.

────────────────────── .✦

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧!)ᯓ★

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puma-riki · 21 days ago

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u will not do such a thing 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

now fearnot era

SHHH i cannot have another scandal like this on my track record you’re tryna trip me up

#⤷ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒔!𓂃ﾒ૦

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