#&team: nicholas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

guliexe · 1 month ago

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━━━ON THE LOW 18+

Dealer!Nicholas/Wang Yixiang x Female!Reader

.ᐟwarnings/tags: dealer/stoner!nicho, i call him weno in this, soft dom!nicho, shy!reader, loverboy!nicho, drug use, shotgunning, romantic, making out, dry humping, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p in v, mating press, crying, unprotected sex, confessing, aftercare

♡ you started buying weed for your friends and ended up falling for the dealer—turns out, he fell even harder.

.ᐟwc: 9.7k (no proofread)

You’d seen him around long before you ever spoke to him. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could ignore. Not because he was loud, Weno was anything but loud, but because he had this presence. Calm, quiet, and detached, like nothing ever really touched him. He was always there but just out of reach. The kind of person who didn’t care if people were watching, but somehow still ended up being the one everyone looked at. You had a couple classes near the same buildings. He always showed up late, always dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed—big hoodie, baggy jeans, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Never rushed. Never looked stressed. Just there. He’d walk past where you and your friends were sitting on the grass and barely glance your way. But even that one second felt heavier than it should. You didn’t know much about him, but you noticed him. You always had. Weno wasn’t exactly a mystery, everyone on campus knew what he did, they just didn’t talk about it. Not out loud, anyway. The stories passed around in whispers. That he sells, and it’s good shit too. That he never chased customers, people came to him. That if he liked you, he might give you more than you paid for. That if he really liked you, you’d know.

You didn’t know if any of that was true. But what you did know was that your friends wanted weed and were too scared to go get it themselves. So they asked you. Apparently, being the quiet one made you the designated “safe” option. It wasn’t like you and Weno were strangers, anyway. You’d talked a few times now. Nothing long, quick chats during pickups, the occasional hi at a party when you passed by each other. He’d never made you feel weird or unsafe. Just… flustered. A little warm in the chest, a little unsure what to say next. He had a way of watching you that felt deliberate, even when he said nothing at all. Your friend had shoved some cash into your hand at the last minute, babbling about how “he’s chill, he’s not scary, just please go for me, I can’t” — and you’d sighed, texting him before you could overthink it. He told you to meet him behind the dorms. 6:30. You almost didn’t go. You weren’t sure why he made you nervous, he hadn’t done anything to deserve that label. But something about him felt sharp beneath all the calm. Like he could see through you if he wanted to. When you rounded the corner that evening, he was already leaning against the side of his car, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The sun was low, painting the edges of his face gold. You caught yourself staring before you could stop. He looked up as you approached. “Didn’t expect you,” he said, not moving. You blinked, “Why?” He shrugged, “Thought one of your loud friends would be the one to show. You’re not really the type to do this.” It wasn’t teasing exactly, but the way he said it made your face warm. You cleared your throat. “They made me come.” “Mm,” he hummed. “Figured.”

He pushed off the car, pulling a ziplock from his hoodie pocket. You reached for it automatically, but he didn’t hand it over right away. “You ever tried it?” You shook your head. “No. It’s not really… my thing.” He tilted his head slightly. Not judging, just observing. “Didn’t think it was.” he chuckled softly, then he handed it to you, fingers brushing yours for half a second too long. You looked down at your hand, not at the bag, but at where your skin still tingled. “You’re good,” he said quietly, “Let me know next time.” You nodded, muttered a soft thanks, already starting to turn away, but then he said your name. You froze and glanced back. He was still standing by his car, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily spinning his keys around his finger. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip, like he wasn’t just looking at you, but through you. “You always do stuff for your friends?” His tone was casual, but the question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugged a little. “They want something, and you’re the one who shows up.” A pause. “That happen a lot?”You weren’t sure how to answer. It did happen a lot. They asked, you went. Not because you wanted to, but because it felt easier than saying no. You glanced down at the ziplock in your hand. “I guess,” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” He hummed low, like that told him everything he needed to know. You looked back up, ready to say something else—anything, maybe even defend yourself, but he beat you to it. “You’re a good girl.” The words were soft and genuine, but they landed heavy. Your breath caught. His gaze didn’t waver—steady, calm, like he hadn’t just said something that made your skin go warm all over. You didn’t know what to do with that. You didn’t even know what it meant coming from him. You just knew it made something flutter in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked off a little too quickly, heart pounding, ears hot, his voice still echoing behind your ribs. You’re a good girl. You didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. It wasn’t long before your friends asked again. Same excuse, same tone, a whiny “please, he already knows you” and cash pushed into your hand like you owed them something. You hesitated more this time. Not because of them, but because of him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about last time. It replayed in your head again and again. You stared at his contact in your phone for some minutes before typing out the message.

You

hey my friends wanna grab again

He replied two minutes later.

Weno

same place 7:30

When you showed up this time, he was inside his car, driver’s door open, music playing low through the speakers. He looked up as you approached and smiled, lazy and half-lidded. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey.”You tried not to sound nervous. You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. This wasn’t new. You’d done this before. But this time, it felt different. You felt different. He stepped out, shutting the car door behind him as he pulled the same ziplock from the pocket of his jeans. You took it wordlessly, but his fingers brushed yours again, on purpose this time. You could feel it in the way he didn’t rush, didn’t pull away immediately. “Still not trying it?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook your head. “Not yet.” He raised a brow. “Why not?” “I just… haven’t.” You tucked the bag quickly into your jacket pocket like it might deflect the attention. “You scared?” The way he asked it wasn’t mocking, just curious, like he wanted to understand you, not challenge you. You hesitated. “No,” you said finally. “Just don’t wanna.” He nodded slowly, watching you again with that unreadable expression. “Still doing things for your friends, though.” You pressed your lips together. “I guess.” “They ever do stuff for you?” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged. “Just wondering.” You didn’t answer. Mostly because you didn’t have one. He could probably tell, because he didn’t push. He just looked at you for a long second, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to meet your gaze as he rolled a blunt for him. “You should stop letting people use you.” The bluntness of it caught you off guard. You shifted on your feet, unsure whether to say thank you or tell him it wasn’t like that, even though maybe it was. “You don’t even like them that much, do you?” Your breath hitched. “They’re my friends.” “Mm,” he hummed. “If you say so.”

After that, it happened a few more times. The same routine: a text, a time, a quiet walk behind the dorms where he’d be waiting. Sometimes he was standing. Sometimes in the driver’s seat with the door open. Sometimes already smoking, low music humming from the speakers. And each time, it got a little easier to look him in the eye. But also harder not to look too long. Weno never talked much. He didn’t fill silence just to hear himself speak. He asked things, small things, personal in ways that didn’t feel invasive, just seen. He was trying to piece you together quietly, without making a show of it. You’d come with your friends’ money in your pocket and leave with more than you paid for. Not every time, but enough that you noticed. When you offered to give him more, he just shook his head, said “You’re good,” and he meant it, it wasn’t just about the cash anymore. You didn’t tell your friends about how often you started going. Sometimes it wasn’t even about picking up anymore. You’d hand over the cash, but he’d wave it off. “Not this time.” You started to wonder if he even gave you real amounts. If this was still a deal or just an excuse. What you did know was that somewhere along the way, something started to shift.

It was in the way your pulse picked up when his name lit up your screen. In how you started getting ready earlier than you needed to. In how you made sure your outfit and make up was cute before leaving, like that would help keep your face from giving you away when he looked at you like he always did. It was on the low. No one really knew how often you were seeing him now—certainly not your friends. To them, it was still just you doing the awkward task they were too scared for. They didn’t know that half the time you went to Weno now, it wasn’t even because of them. Sometimes they didn’t ask at all—you just found yourself texting him anyway. And he always said yes. You weren’t sure when it stopped being about weed. You weren’t sure it ever really was. Sometimes you’d sit with him for a while. In the passenger seat of his car, parked in the same quiet lot behind the dorms. He’d roll one and lean back with the window cracked, slow smoke curling out into the night while music filled the silence. He never pushed anything on you. Never asked why you stayed. But you stayed. You weren’t good at talking about yourself, and he didn’t make you. He just gave you space to exist, and maybe that was what started doing it. Maybe that’s why you kept feeling warmer every time you saw him. More sure that he saw you. And you started to open up to him. You two would hang out and talk about anything and anyone very frequently.

You were curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked under you, jacket zipped halfway. The night was cool, and the air smelled like weed and cologne, smoke curling from the blunt between his fingers. His playlist low in the background that made it feel like time moved slower in his car. You hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. Just sat there, letting the silence hang. But it wasn’t awkward. Weno never made things awkward. You gave him a small smile, eyes drifting out the window. The streetlights cast a warm glow across the dashboard. He tapped the ash into the tray and leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of your seat like he didn’t even think about it. “I don’t get it,” you said quietly after a moment. “You do this with all your clients?” “Do what?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly, playful but unreadable. “This.” You motioned vaguely between you. “Sit in the car, talk like this, not charge them.” He chuckled once, deep and soft in his chest. “No.” You blinked. “No?” He turned his head, looked right at you, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not you.” Your stomach fluttered. You tried to play it off, but your smile gave you away. He tilted his head slightly, watching you through the soft haze in the car. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” Your head snapped toward him. “What?” He smirked, exhaled a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. “Client,” he added after a beat, but the pause was on purpose. His smirk deepened like he knew what he was doing to you. Your face went warm immediately. “Shut up,” you muttered, covering your smile with your hand. “I’m serious.” His tone was calm. “You don’t talk much, you don’t ask dumb questions, you never waste my time.” “Oh,” you said quietly. But your smile stayed. “So I’m convenient.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low. “Nah. You’re cute.” Your heart jumped. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to say. So you laughed—awkward and soft, trying to bury your face in your hands like that might cool your cheeks. You left a little later than usual that night.

Three days later, when your screen lit up with a text from him, you answered in less than a minute.

Weno

u free tonight?

wanna chill for a bit?

♡

You

yeah :)

same spot?

♡

Weno

pull up at 10

no rush

You tried not to read into it too much. But you still picked out a different hoodie this time, your favorite one, did a little extra on your make up, styled your hair in way you knew framed your face best. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything. But your hands still felt warm as you walked out to meet him. His car was already there when you arrived. You climbed into the passenger seat, familiar now with the way the door stuck a little when you pulled it. Same playlist was on, and the heat was turned up just enough to make the inside feel cozy. He glanced over as you settled in, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth, quiet. “Hey,” you murmured back, smiling a little.

The next hour passed easily, like it always did when you were with him. You talked about nothing and everything, classes, music, random campus drama you weren’t even involved in, movies you both halfway remembered, the last weird dream you had. He laughed more than usual tonight, low and slow, eyes squinting a little when something you said caught him off guard. His hand rested on the steering wheel as he listened, thumb tapping the leather in a lazy rhythm. He made you feel comfortable, like whatever you had to say mattered even if it didn’t. Like he was listening just because it was you talking. At some point, he lit up. You were mid-sentence when he leaned forward to spark the lighter, the soft flick of it barely cutting into the music. He offered it to you once out of habit, holding the blunt out between two fingers, and this time you didn’t shake your head immediately. You hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you took it. Your fingers brushed his. His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze lingered longer than before. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, a little more serious now. You slowly nodded. “Yeah. Just—don’t laugh at me if I cough.” He smiled, “I won’t.” He leaned back into his seat. “Promise.” You inhaled, a small hit, like you’d seen him do a hundred times now. It burned, made your throat tickle, your eyes water just a little, but you didn’t cough. He watched carefully, still smiling. “Good girl,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened at the words, heat blooming under your skin before you could stop it. You handed it back to him quickly, trying to focus on the burn in your lungs, the soft thrum of bass in the background, anything except how warm you suddenly felt. Time got slower after that. An hour passed in a haze, soft laughter, lazy conversation, both of you sinking deeper into your seats, the windows fogging slightly. He smoked again, and passed it back and forth to you. Your body felt lighter. Music melted into the background, his voice a little rough now. You both stared out at the empty parking lot for a while, just existing. It was quiet in the way that felt close, not awkward. Every time your knee brushed his, he didn’t move. Every time you shifted, his eyes flicked toward your mouth, then back to the road like he didn’t want to get caught looking. And maybe it was the high, or the way the space between you had been shrinking since the start, but something changed. You turned to say something and caught him already looking at you, staring. His arm was still draped behind your seat, but now his fingers were brushing your shoulder, light and casual. You blinked at him. “What?” you whispered, voice lower than before. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you for a long second, eyes warm, thoughtful. “C’mere.” You didn’t even think. You just leaned forward, heart thudding quietly behind your ribs as his hand slid slowly to the back of your neck. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed yours soft at first, testing. Then again, firmer. You leaned into it. Your heart stuttered, hands unsure of where to go. One found the edge of his hoodie. The other pressed lightly to his chest. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been thinking about this for a while. He wasn’t in any rush now that it was finally happening. You kissed him back slow, high and a little breathless, your skin buzzing all over. He pulled back eventually, just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.

“You’re high,” he said, almost teasing. “So are you,” you whispered. He smiled, gaze dropping to your lips again. “Yeah. But I still meant it.” You smiled, small and dazed, and tucked your legs under you again, curling back into your seat. The car was quiet for a few more minutes. Nothing changed. But everything had. And when you finally said you should go, he didn’t stop you. Just nodded, reached over, and opened the door for you like he always did. Before you stepped out, he caught your wrist gently. You turned back. His eyes searched yours for a moment. “Text me when you get in.” You nodded, “Okay.”

You

made it home :)

♡

Weno

good

was starting to think u got lost

♡

You

nope

just still thinking

♡

Weno

about?

♡

You

you

♡

Weno

yeah?

what part

♡

You

the obvious part

♡

Weno

i liked that part too

didn’t rlly want u to go

♡

You

u didn’t?

♡

Weno

nah

wanted to kiss u again

♡

You

i wanted to too

but i got nervous :(

♡

Weno

it’s ok bby

will i see u again soon?

♡

You

yeah

if u want to

♡

Weno

i do

♡

You

can’t wait

goodnight weno :)

♡

Weno

me neither

gn <3

You didn’t stop thinking about that night. Or his texts. Or when he said he wanted to kiss you again. The way your heart stuttered when he called you bby like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was already normal between you. It wasn’t, not really. But it was starting to be. You’d kept texting after that. Not every second of the day, but enough. Little check-ins, good mornings, music recs, late night questions that felt heavier than they sounded. He was never overly forward, not the type to blow up your phone or say things just to get a reaction, but everything he did say stuck with you. You were head over heels. Smiling at your phone and then burying your face in your pillow like an idiot every time. So when one of your friends mentioned the party coming up—some frat guy’s birthday, everyone was going, “you have to come, it’s gonna be huge”—you didn’t think much of it at first. Until she added, casually, “Pretty sure Weno’s gonna be there too, so you can’t get us some stuff as well?” That made your heart skip. You played it off, said “yeah, cool” and shrugged, but your brain had already started spiraling. What if you saw him? What if you didn’t? What if he ignored you in front of everyone? What if he didn’t? You told yourself you weren’t going for him. But you still stood in front of your closet longer than usual. You picked a dress—short, tight, something you hadn’t worn before. Simple, but it hugged you in all the right places. You did your makeup with more care than usual, spritzed perfume on your neck, your wrists, let your hair fall soft and full around your shoulders. You didn’t tell anyone why you looked a little extra tonight. But you kind of hoped he’d be there. And you really hoped he’d notice.

The house was already packed by the time you got there—music thumping through the walls, bodies crammed together in every corner, red cups in almost every hand. Lights low, flashing sometimes, music echoing through a speaker in the living room. It smelled like sweat, beer, weed, and cheap cologne. Typical. Your friends disappeared as soon as you walked in, squealing at someone they recognized near the kitchen. You stayed back for a second, just long enough to scan the crowd. Not because you were looking for anyone. Not on purpose, anyway. And then you saw Weno. Leaning against the far wall near the stairs, hoodie half-zipped over a white tank, cargo pants hanging low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking a little. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking loud or laughing or drinking like the rest of them. Just standing there, calm and unreadable, eyes lazily moving through the room like he’d been here a hundred times before. He was talking to someone, dapping them up quick, pulling something from his pocket and handing it off like it was nothing. No one looked twice. Just a quiet exchange, over in seconds. He didn’t try to be subtle, he didn’t have to. People came to him. You stayed near the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, pretending to be more focused on your friends than you were. But your eyes kept drifting back. He looked good. Effortlessly good. And he hadn’t seen you yet. You tried not to look over too often. Tried to focus on your friends and their chaotic conversations, the loud music, the colorful lights. You laughed at jokes that didn’t really register. Nodded along. Sipped water from your cup and told yourself it wasn’t that serious. He wasn’t even talking to you. He was doing his own thing. Still, your gaze kept drifting. Just to see if he was still there. Still. Every time you checked, he was. Some minutes passed like that—just you pretending to be more chill than you felt while your friends chattered and moved toward the crowd. You stayed behind, needing a second to breathe. You slipped into the kitchen, mostly empty now, except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint bass vibrating through the floor. You reached for the fridge handle, intent on just grabbing some cold water and hiding out for a bit, but when you turned, he was already there. Standing just inside the doorway. Watching. Your breath caught.

He didn’t say anything at first. His eyes scanned you slowly—top to bottom, unhurried. You felt it like a heatwave, settling low in your stomach. His gaze was darker than usual. Focused, sharp. You dropped your eyes immediately, trying not to fidget. Tugged lightly on the hem of your dress like it might help somehow, like maybe it covered more than it did. You felt your cheeks flush without him even having to speak. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous. You’d seen him like this before, but something about tonight made it worse. Made you bite your lip without thinking. Made your cheeks burn just from the way he looked at you. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice calm and even. A little rough from the smoke, but still warm. You glanced up, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said, “Wasn’t really planning to, but… my friends dragged me.” He smiled a little. “I’m glad you came.” Your breath hitched. You weren’t expecting that. “You look good tonight.” It landed heavy in your chest. No teasing. No smirk. Just him saying it like it was a fact. Your whole body flushed. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “Um. Thanks.” He nodded once, eyes still on you, and then glanced back toward the hallway. “I’m heading up to the balcony for a bit. If you wanna get some air.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just gave you one last look—soft, lingering—and pushed off the doorframe to leave. “Come find me,” he said, and then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the kitchen, heart racing, lip caught between your teeth, wondering how the hell he always made you feel like this without even trying.

You lingered in the kitchen for a while after he left, pretending to scroll through your phone, half-listening to the party still pulsing through the walls. Your friends had fully disappeared into the crowd by now, probably dancing or taking shots or screaming over music. You told yourself you were just cooling off. Just getting a break from the noise. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you. The way he said it—You look good tonight. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Like he meant it, and he knew you’d heard him loud and clear. Eventually, you texted some excuse about needing air, said you’d be right back if anyone even cared that you left. You slipped out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs, heartbeat loud in your ears, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot nervous. The hallway was quiet, just some closed doors and the muffled hum of bass below. You found the door to the balcony slightly cracked open, soft breeze pushing in from the night. You pushed it open gently. There he was. He sat on a low, beat-up couch tucked against the wall. One leg stretched out, the other bent, arm thrown over the backrest like he owned the space. Head tilted back just slightly, hoodie slipping off his shoulder, lips parted around the blunt as he took a slow drag. The ember glowed red in the dark, lighting up the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He looked unfairly good. Like the air belonged to him. Like nothing touched him. He turned his head lazily when he heard the door, eyes finding yours through the smoke. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at you, then took another slow hit, exhaling with a quiet sigh before speaking.

“Knew you’d come.” You swallowed hard, heart kicking up again like you hadn’t already spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm it down. His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was something behind it—something that made your chest tighten a little. You stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you. You sat down beside him, slow and careful, the cushion dipping under your weight. His knee brushed yours just slightly, warm through the fabric. You glanced over, then down again, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just—I’d rather be up here with you than down there in all that chaos.” That got him to finally look at you. Head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed just a little like he was trying to read deeper than what you were saying out loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just flicked the ash from the blunt, leaned back again, eyes still on you. You breathed in through your nose, steadying yourself. Then softer, barely louder than the wind, you added, “I missed you.” He turned his head fully now, letting the blunt rest between his fingers. The pause that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Warm. His eyes softened just a bit. “Yeah?” he said, voice a little quieter than before. “I missed you too.” It landed in your chest like a weight—like the kind of thing you weren’t sure you were allowed to want, but did anyway. He leaned in a little, not close enough to crowd you, but just enough for his knee to press softly into yours. His eyes didn’t leave your face.

“You been thinking about me?” he asked, voice still calm, but something about it made your stomach twist. You blinked. Heat rushed to your cheeks again, and you had to look away. “…Maybe.” He smiled at that, small and crooked and unfairly attractive. “Same.” And then he took another hit like he hadn’t just wrecked you with a single word. He let the silence hang for a few seconds after that, the blunt burning slow between his fingers, and then he said it quietly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Come closer.” Your eyes flicked to his, heart stuttering a little. He didn’t look away, didn’t shift or make room, just waited. You hesitated for a second and then moved, scooting over until your leg was pressed fully against his. He reached out casually, like it was second nature, and slid his arm around your shoulders. A soft tug, and suddenly you were leaning into him, your head falling against his chest like it belonged there. You could feel everything. His warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart under your cheek. His hoodie smelled like smoke and laundry and him. He brought the blunt to his lips again, took a hit, then lowered it and turned his head slightly toward you.“Want some?” he murmured. You shook your head, just once. “Not right now.” He hummed, didn’t push. Just let his hand stay where it was on your shoulder, thumb brushing idly against your arm. You didn’t say anything after that. Neither did he. You both just sat there, pressed together on the old balcony couch, the party a muffled storm below you, the stars wide and scattered above. You listened to the wind. The soft scratch of fabric when he shifted. The occasional drag and exhale as he smoked. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself feel all of it.

He shifted a little, moving his hand lower on your arm, caressing the skin, his breath warm against your hair. You felt his heartbeat quicken just a bit beneath your cheek. The silence between you was thick. to be noticed. You glanced up at him, your eyes catching his in the dim light. There was something softer there now. Something unspoken, but heavy. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering near your temple. Your breath hitched. He leaned down just a little, voice low and casual, “You’re beautiful.” You swallowed, barely able to meet his gaze as your face flushed again. Then, just like that, he closed the tiny gap between you. His lips found yours slow and gentle, before deepening the kiss, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. You melted into him, your hand slowly reaching up to rest on his chest as the world around you faded. It’s not gentle anymore, it’s urgent, needy. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue slides against yours, deep and demanding. You whimper softly, the sound lost in the press of his mouth, your body melting into his. He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, voice husky, “Wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car nearby.” Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. You just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, breath catching again as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

He doesn’t rush you, just laces his fingers through yours, warm and firm, and gives your hand a gentle tug. You follow without thinking, legs shaky as you leave the balcony behind and slip back into the quiet hallway. The party feels distant now, like the world narrowed down to just him, the weight of his hand in yours, the aftertaste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. The walk to his car is quiet, but not awkward. When he unlocks the door and slides into the driver’s seat, you hesitate for half a second before slipping in beside him. The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the low, warm hum of the vehicle. He leans back, legs stretched out, calm like always, but there’s a heat behind his eyes when he looks at you. A spark still flickering from earlier. “I’m gonna roll real quick,” he murmurs, pulling out his tray and grinder from the center console like it’s second nature. You nod, watching him work—his fingers nimble, methodical, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his face when he brings the blunt to his lips. The car fills with the earthy scent of smoke, and his head tilts back slightly as he exhales, half-lidded. He looks so fucking fine like this, bathed in shadows and smoke, hoodie loose around his collarbones, the faint red glow of the blunt lighting up his lips. Then he turns his head toward you again and you don’t even get the chance to fully catch your breath before he leans in again, free hand finding your cheek as he kisses you.

The smoke still lingers on his breath, and you melt into it, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours. His fingers are on your thigh, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. The kiss turns messier, full of need, soft gasps and low groans echoing through the car. Your hand grips his hoodie low, holding on like you might fall apart if you let go. He pulls back only enough to whisper, breath ghosting over your lips, “Could do this all night.” Then his mouth is on yours again. More heat, more tongue, more breathless little noises spilling from your lips as your body starts to tremble in his hands. Without breaking the kiss, his hands move, one sliding up your thigh, the other settling on your waist. “C’mere,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low but soft. You barely register what he means until his hands are guiding you, pulling you gently, firmly, right onto his lap. One leg at a time, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him, hands braced on his shoulders, your dress hiking up as you settle onto him, straddling him, face to face. He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, red from the weed, blunt still between his fingers. One of his hands slides up your side, fingers grazing your waist and ribs over the thin fabric of your dress. He takes his time with it, like he’s learning your shape. Your breath stutters as his hand travels higher, stopping just under your arm. He brings the blunt to his lips again, takes a long, slow hit, his chest rising beneath you, and then leans in close. His free hand curves around the back of your neck, guiding your face closer to his. You part your lips on instinct, and he exhales the smoke right into your mouth, warm and slow, curling over your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe it in, heart thudding, and then he kisses you. Kisses you like he’s taking the air right back from your lungs.

Your breath catches when you feel his hands slide down, beneath the hem of your dress. He pushes it up slowly, bunching the fabric around your waist until the cool air hits your thighs. You shift slightly, nervous, thighs tightening around his hips as he exposes more of you. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a second, eyes flicking down to where your panties are now visible, his palms firm on the back of your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he leans forward, mouth finding your neck, and everything gets messier after that. He kisses down the side of your throat, open, warm, wet, his lips dragging along the skin, tongue flicking against your pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to make your hips twitch against him. You whimper quietly, trying to stay still, but he’s already pulling you closer with both hands, guiding your body into his like he knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head for him without thinking, shy sounds escaping your mouth as he works his way up to your jaw, then down again, kissing a little rougher now. “Weno…” you whisper, voice breaking around his name. “Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low against your skin. “You’re okay.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders instinctively, face burning as you shift in his lap, unintentionally grinding down just slightly. His reaction is immediate, a quiet groan right into your neck, his hands tightening on your hips. “Just like that,” he breathes.

Your hips grind down harder without thinking, breath coming out in shaky gasps as the friction starts to feel almost too good. His hands slip under the back of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movement like he needs it just as bad. You’re whimpering into the heated space between you, clinging to his hoodie, your body trembling slightly with every slow drag of your hips over his. Your panties are soaked. His pants are straining. The windows are fogging up, and the whole car smells like weed, sweat, and heat. He tilts his head, catching your mouth again in another deep, tongue-heavy kiss, like he can’t stop tasting you. His hand slides up your waist, grazing under the curve of your chest over the thin fabric of your dress, and you shudder, moaning softly into his mouth. Then he pulls back, just a little, resting his forehead against yours as both of you try to breathe. “Fuck,” he whispers, chest rising and falling beneath you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” You blink at him, dazed, lips swollen and barely parted, still trying to catch your breath. He looks at you for a long second, hands still on your waist, grounding you. “I don’t wanna do this in the car,” he says, voice rough. “You deserve better than that.” Your breath hitches, heat flaring even higher at how serious he sounds. “Wanna go to my place?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your side. You nod slowly, shy but needy, your fingers curling in the collar of his shirt, a little scared to let go. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Okay.” He kisses you once more, soft and sweet, before pulling back just enough to reach for the keys.

The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you into the warmth of his place. It was dark, mostly, just the glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds, casting faint lines across the floor. Neither of you spoke. You turned slightly, lips parting like you might say something, but he was already reaching for you. His hands found your waist in the dark, pulling you in with no hesitation, and his mouth was on yours before you could even breathe. Kissing you hungrily, deep and needy. Everything he hadn’t said tonight was pouring out of him all at once, into the way he held you, the way his lips moved over yours. His grip was firm, hands splayed over your hips, your back arching into him as you kissed him back just as desperately. He walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, slow, steady steps through the short hallway, lips never leaving yours. You barely registered the corners of the space or how you ended up where you did until the back of your knees hit something soft. And then he was lowering you onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, and your breath caught as he hovered above you, eyes dark and steady on yours. Then, without a word, he zipped down his hoodie and took it off. Now just in a white tank, it clung to his frame in all the right places, the cut of his collarbone visible, shoulders broad and sharp under the light. He looked down at you for a second longer, breathing hard, gaze lingering on your face like he couldn’t believe you were really there. Then he leaned down, kissing you again, less rushed, but just as intense. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your dress, moving deliberately, memorizing the shape of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a second, eyes flicking between yours, voice low and wrecked. “You good?” he asked, forehead brushing yours. You nodded, cheeks burning, lips swollen already. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

He didn’t wait long after your answer. His mouth moved to your neck, warm and open, lips brushing your skin before he started kissing, slow, deliberate, dragging his tongue gently along the curve of your throat. You gasped, breath hitching as he sucked softly at a spot just below your jaw. Then again, a little lower. Your hips twitched beneath him when you felt his teeth graze you. “Weno—” you whispered, but it came out as more of a breath than a word. “You’re so pretty” he murmured, voice barely there, like he was talking to himself. “Always are.” His hand moved down slowly, slipping over your waist and along the outside of your thigh before sliding back up under the hem of your dress. His touch was patient, teasing, he didn’t rush. Just let his fingertips brush along the top of your thigh, higher and higher until they were tracing the edge of your panties. He pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, slowly, and let his fingers slide between your folds, touching your bare heat. You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. “Shit,” he whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. “So soaked f’me, baby.” Your cheeks burned, thighs tensing slightly around his hand. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then lower, just above your chest, tongue wet and warm as his fingers began to move—slow circles at first, barely-there pressure that made you squirm beneath him. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady like he could feel how close you already were, how much you wanted him. “You’re so sensitive,” he muttered, voice deep and low, teeth grazing your skin as he kissed up to your ear.

You whimpered his name, hips grinding into his hand without meaning to. His fingers never stopped moving, dragging slick circles against your clit as he kept his mouth on your neck. Every kiss felt more urgent, but not rushed. It wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Something heavier. And then he leaned up, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time,” he murmured, breath warm, fingers still teasing between your thighs. “Even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I try not to.” Your heart flipped, aching at how raw it sounded coming from him. “I don’t even think you know what you do to me,” he continued, a soft kiss behind your ear. “How long I’ve wanted you like this. Letting me touch you.” The words hit harder than anything else had—deeper than the kisses, deeper than his touch. Your chest tightened, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met again. Your moans melted into his mouth, the rhythm of his fingers picking up as your hips rolled up into his hand. His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider for him.

And then, without warning, he shifted his hand lower, deeper. Your lips parted in a quiet gasp as he slid one finger inside you, slow and careful. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, already aching from how worked up you were, how long he’d been teasing. He didn’t wait long before easing in a second finger, stretching you just a little more. His movements were smooth, curling them up inside you just right, drawing out whiny, breathless little sounds from your throat you couldn’t hold back. You buried your face in his shoulder, hands gripping his bicep, your hips rocking involuntarily into every slow thrust of his fingers. He moved deep and steady, his palm pressing into you, thumb dragging lazy circles over your clit in rhythm. He kept moving inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. You were so close, the tension winding tighter and tighter in your stomach, breath catching with every stroke. But just as your legs began to shake, just as your hips bucked up into his hand with a quiet, desperate moan—he pulled out. You whined at the loss, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. “Weno…” “I know,” he murmured, breathless himself, voice thick with need. “I know, baby.” He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. The soft light coming through the cracked door hit his chest just right—shoulders broad, abs toned, skin flushed and warm. His chain shifted against his skin when he moved.

Then he was reaching for you again, hands gentle. “Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You nodded, cheeks hot, eyes wide and dazed. “Y-Yeah” He pulled it up slowly, lifting it over your head. His eyes dropped to your body as it was revealed to him—bare chest, soft skin, rising and falling with every shaky breath. He leaned his mouth to your nipple, giving it a soft suck while sliding your panties down your legs, dragging his hands along your thighs as he did. Then he moved lower. He settled between your legs like he belonged there, hands spreading your thighs gently, thumbs brushing along the inside. You whimpered, body already arching at the sight of him down there, the feel of his breath ghosting over your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, eyes locked on your soaked center. And then he leaned in. His tongue was warm, slow, one long, deliberate lick up your folds that made your back arch off the bed. Then again, this time with more pressure, more intent. His mouth locked over your clit, sucking softly before he flattened his tongue and circled it. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling as your thighs tried to close around his head. He just groaned into you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, keeping you wide open for him. The sounds—wet, messy, sinful—filled the room along with your breathy moans, soft whimpers, the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with purpose, lapping, circling, flicking. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but moan, soft and desperate, your hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. And then you felt his hand again. Sliding up the inside of your thigh, fingers trailing through your slick folds before one dipped inside you, curling instantly. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. He added a second immediately, stretching you and pumping into you while his mouth never left your clit. “Weno—fuck,” you whimpered, body jolting as he curled his fingers just right. Your walls clenched around him, needy and tight. His groan vibrated through you when he felt it. His tongue pressed harder, fingers pumping deep and slow—each drag of his knuckles making your toes curl. Your moans got higher, breathier, as your body trembled under his touch. “You close, baby?” he muttered against your clit, fingers never slowing. “Wanna feel you cum on my fuckin’ fingers.” You nodded, frantic, too far gone to speak. Your back arched, thighs shaking as he held you open, ruined you with his mouth, pushed his fingers deep inside you until the heat building in your stomach finally snapped. You came hard, legs trembling, hips stuttering, a loud moan spilling from your lips as everything clenched and pulsed around him. Fingers still working you gently through it while his tongue slowed, easing the intensity but never leaving you empty. Weno pressed one last kiss to your thigh, lips lingering as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, savoring the way your body jolted at the loss. He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling a little faster now, eyes heavy as they dragged up your body.

You watched, dazed, flushed, and breathless as he reached for the waistband of his cargos, unbuttoning and sliding them down. They hit the floor with a quiet thud, leaving him in just his boxers—black, stretched tight over the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. He palmed it slowly, eyes still fixed on you, thumb pressing down over the thick outline like it ached. You squirmed beneath him, breath catching again when he leaned forward, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you slow and deep, tongue sliding over yours, moaning into your mouth. Then he reached between you and pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, hissing softly when his length sprang free and brushed against your thigh. “You still good?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his thumb caressing your cheek. You nodded, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah… I want you.” That was all he needed. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, dragging the tip through your slick folds, teasing you both with the heat of it. His hand found your waist again, grounding you as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, thick and hot and stretching you just right. You gasped, nails digging into his biceps, body arching as he filled you completely.“Fuck,” he breathed out against your mouth, kissing you again as he bottomed out. “So tight. So good.” He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, buried deep, letting you adjust while he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you. And then he started to move.

He started slow and deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your walls. Your body clung to him, welcoming each stroke like it had been waiting, aching, for this exact moment. His hands moved down your sides, palms warm and firm, before sliding under your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your head falling back into the pillow as he sank even deeper. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice all breath and gravel, “So fucking perfect like this.” You whimpered, lips parting with every slow rock of his hips, every soft press of his chest to yours. One of his hands slipped under your back, pulling you closer, the other traveling to cup your breast, squeezing gently, thumb circling your nipple. “Love your body,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone. “Every inch. All mine now, yeah?” You could only nod, breath shaky, heart pounding. He moved again—long, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble around him, that had you clinging tighter to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself in his touch. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, kissing your neck, “Fuck—look at how you take me.” He slid his hand down to your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you up into each thrust, letting you feel just how hard he was holding back. You cried out softly, tears blurring your vision as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You felt stretched, full…loved. Every part of him was on you, in you, his lips, his hands, his voice. He slowed for just a second, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lip as he whispered, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.” You blinked, another tear slipping free. He caught it with a kiss. He pushed in deep again, groaning low as your body clenched around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted in a sob, overwhelmed. The pleasure, the emotion—it was too much, and not enough. You gasped out his name, voice broken, tears spilling freely now. “You’re doin’ so good,” he breathed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So good for me. You feel so fuckin’ good—can’t get enough of you, baby.” He cupped your breast again, his other hand squeezing your ass as he rocked deeper, firmer, filling you completely with every thrust. The mattress creaked beneath you, skin slapping, breathy moans and whimpers. He lift your legs higher, folding them up toward your chest as his hands slid beneath your knees, guiding you open. His body shifted with yours, hovering close, his chest pressing to yours as he settled into the new position. You were utterly vulnerable, and so full. “Fuck,” he breathed as he pushed back in—deeper, impossibly deep, the new angle hitting something inside you that made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Your thighs trembled against his sides, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as he rocked into you again, slow and hard. His face was right above yours, eyes dark, mouth parted, breath hot on your cheek. His forehead pressed to yours. You pulled him down, fingers tangling in his hair, and kissed him hard, messy, open-mouthed, desperate. You sobbed into the kiss, the pleasure blurring everything, making your whole body feel like it was about to break apart in the best way.

He moaned against your mouth, thrusts picking up just slightly, deeper and deeper, hips pressing you into the mattress. One of his hands cradled your cheek as the other gripped under your thigh, holding you open for him while his body kept driving into yours, filling you perfectly. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw between gasps. “So good for me, baby… fuck.” Your body clenched tight around him, your moans turning into cries as your nails dug into his back. “Weno— I’m close, I—please,” you gasped, barely able to form the words through the sobs that kept catching in your throat. “I got you,” he panted, hips grinding down, pace relentless now. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” It only took another stroke. One more hit just right, and you shattered. Your second orgasm came, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your back arched, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently around him. You clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth. “Shit—baby—fuck—” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your body pulsed around him. “So good. So fucking good.” He barely lasted another few thrusts before he was pulling out quickly, stroking himself through the last moments, his body jerking forward with a final moan as he spilled across your stomach, thick and warm. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, forehead to yours again, breath ragged, lips ghosting yours.

He was still above you, body trembling slightly as he caught his breath, his lips brushing yours in soft, lingering kisses that felt more like confessions than touches. You were trying to breathe too, heart racing, chest rising and falling as your mind spun. Every nerve in your body was still alive, aching with how full he made you feel—physically, emotionally, all of it. And yet, even in the quiet after, something heavy sat in your chest. You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting at his sides, your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You could feel it pressing against your tongue—those words—so big and so terrifying, but so real. Too real to keep inside. “Weno…?” you whispered, voice barely audible. He blinked down at you, soft and hazy from the afterglow. “Yeah, baby?” Your lip trembled as you looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. “I… I think I’m in love with you.” The second the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. You felt exposed, like you’d stripped yourself bare in a whole new way. Your eyes filled with panic—what if he didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything? “I—I’m sorry,” you added quickly, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I just—fuck, I don’t know, I just feel so much and I couldn’t keep it in and—” He cut you off with a kiss. Not a soft one, not a careful one, but deep, sure. His hand cupped your face as he leaned into you, kissing you like he needed to feel every word you’d just said on his tongue.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the little tear that had escaped down your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he whispered. “You could never ruin anything.” Your heart fluttered painfully. “I’ve been in love with you,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Since before I even knew what to call it. You don’t scare me, baby. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense.” He kissed you again, tender. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you close until your body was pressed to his, skin to skin, and you could barely breathe from how tight he held you. You buried your face in his neck, arms tucked between your chests, your heart pounding against his. The silence that followed was heavy with warmth—safe, soft. Eventually, he shifted just enough to reach for the blunt on his nightstand, lighting it with a quiet flick of his lighter. The glow lit up his face in soft orange as he took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh, head tilted back slightly. You curled into him, cheek pressed to his chest, ear catching the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you tighter, and his hand drifted lazily into your hair, fingers combing through the strands. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He held you like he was never letting go.

my other works ➵ masterlist

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byuneuijoo · 1 month ago

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credit.

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slytherinshua · 7 months ago

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♡　LOVE EXPLOSION　( エンティーム )

in which . . . you get cuteness aggression for your boyfriend and try to squish his cheeks.

genre fluff , headcanons , est. relationship , &team x fem!reader cw just kisses , not proofread wc 900ish (100 per member) request no note where's my boyfriend so i can squish his cheeks and give him kisses i am not okay net @lune-net @kstrucknet

KOGA YUDAI ﾐ古賀祐大

Giggles as soon as your hands are on his face. He can’t tell you why he finds it so funny, but something about you struggling to even reach to hold his face in your hands and squish his cheeks makes his heart all warm and a big smile grow on his face. Before you can kiss him or even say anything, he’s already teasing you. Will probably squish your cheeks back, agreeing that he also gets the urge to just hold you and coo over your face because of how cute you are in his eyes.

MURATA FUMA ﾐ村田風雅

You can’t really catch this man by surprise. As soon as you’re grabbing his cheeks, he’s grabbing your waist, and asking you what’s up. When you just say you wanted to admire him, he will smile at you lovingly. Bends down a bit so you have better access to his face, and of course, gives you the same treatment minutes later. Fuma’s always so gentle and patient, so if this was a common occurrence, he would get used to it quickly. Doesn’t quite understand why you feel the urge to squish your boyfriend’s face almost every day, but he wouldn’t question it either.

BYUN EUIJOO ﾐ 변의주

Pauses whatever he was telling you as soon as you grab his face, because he assumes it’s something serious. First looks at you with big concerned eyes, but slowly his smile grows once he realizes that you’re looking at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. Closes his eyes in shock as soon as you start pressing kisses to his nose. Will grab your wrists and remove your hands, just to return the favour with lots of kisses of his own. Probably asks what it was for minutes later, which would lead to the action just repeating.

WANG YIXIANG ﾐ王奕翔

Immediately throws out questions trying to understand what prompted you to grab his face so suddenly. “What are you do—” Is successfully shut up when you kiss his face and giggle at how cute he is. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion because he can’t recall trying to be cute at all. Let’s you leave kisses all around his face; cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, anywhere you need. Definitely enjoys the attention from you, however, he always racks his brain trying to figure out why you’re squishing his cheeks for the third time, and simply can’t because the cuteness aggression always comes spontaneously.

NAKAKITA YUMA ﾐ中耒田悠真

It’s no secret that you can get away with much more than the normal person because you’re Yuma’s girlfriend. But still, you should be a little careful, cause as soon as you grab his cheeks to squish, he’s giving you a signature kitty glare looking like he might swipe at you. But, since you’re his girlfriend and he loves you, he lets you shower him with sickeningly sweet words while he stands there like 🧍. Definitely rolls his eyes at least once— he’s really not the lovey dovey PDA type of boyfriend. But secretly deep down, his heart flutters a bit at your gesture.

ASAKURA JO ﾐ朝倉穣

Looks up at you with his big doe eyes, genuinely confused as to why you’re squishing his cheeks and cooing at him as if he’s a baby. But for some reason his stomach is also somersaulting with butterflies and he isn’t quite sure why he finds the action so flustering. Ears and cheeks turn a bright shade of red as soon as you start peppering his whole face with kisses, and he’s left a stuttering mess for at least a couple minutes because why would you do that so suddenly without warning him.

SHIGETA HARUA ﾐ重田美琉愛

Doesn’t even register in his brain that it’s a sign of affection. You could be spilling all the cutest words about him while holding his face in your hands and he’d be raising an eyebrow trying to figure out what all this was about. A little bit lost and confused at times when it comes to this type of affection, but once you explain the concept of cuteness aggression to him, he would probably get it. Enjoys the extra kisses regardless and looks extremely adorable all confused, as if you can see the cogs in his brain turning slowly.

TAKAYAMA RIKI ﾐ高山りき

He’s so used to being the victim of cuteness aggression, especially when it comes to his cheeks. Because the members are already all over him. He doesn’t even seem fazed when you squish his cheeks and giggle over his cute dimples. But he does quickly get the idea that he finally has someone he can do it too as well, and will definitely start to squish your cheeks and give you extra kisses on a regular basis to try to balance out how much he receives. Becomes your go-to way to show affection with each other :(

HIROTA RIKI ﾐ宏田力

Thinks you’re doing it for a tiktok prank at first. “What trend is this?” As soon as he says that, you stop kissing his face and look at him, exasperated. He’ll quickly realize you were doing it just because, and let you continue without interruption. Probably rambles about how cute you two are as a couple afterwards and his neverending effect on you being credited to his rizz or effortless charm. You have to jokingly say you’ll never give him kisses again just to get him to shut up, cause his ego is that high. But at the end of it, you’ll both be laughing together (and he’ll return the kisses).

&team taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,,

@nicholasluvbot,, @hursheys,, @loserlvrss

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lovelyjuju · 8 months ago

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ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ

&team x reader (seperately)

genre: fluff <3

warnings: none

word count: ~ 400-500 per member

── .✦ k (439 words)

yudai walked you up the steps to your door, his warm hand in yours contrasting the cold of the night. the two of you stopped under the soft glow of the porch light. it wasn't until you turned around to face him that you noticed how close he was, the scent of his cologne mixing with the cool air.

"thank you for tonight, i had a really good time," you said a little sheepishly.

he flashed a smile – shy, almost boyish. "i had a good time, too," he replied softly.

the night had been perfect; your conversation flowing easily over dinner, and his fingers brushing yours a little too often to be accidental. and now, as you stood there, neither of you wanting to be the one to say goodbye, you felt your heartbeat fastening with anticipation.

yudai’s gaze drifted from your eyes to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat as his thumb gently sweeped over your knuckles.

"can i kiss you good night?"

suddenly your cheeks felt warm, despite the cool night wind. his words were gentle, almost hesitant, and something in you ached at how he asked, like he gave you every chance to say no. instead, you nodded, your breath catching as he let out a soft exhale, relief in his smile.

yudai’s hand rised to brush against your cheek, his fingers tracing along your skin with a touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. you closed the gap between you, and then his lips met yours, soft and gentle, like he was savoring each second.

his lips tasted faintly of peppermint, yet the kiss felt so warm and comforting that it made you lean in just a bit closer and rest your hand resting on his chest to feel his quickening heart beat beneath your fingertips.

for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you under the porch light. the gentle pressure of his hand against your cheek, the soft warmth of his lips, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

when he finally pulled back, you caught the smallest, softest smile on his lips. you felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks, but you couldn't look away.

“i’ve wanted to do that all night,” he murmured, a little self-conscious but unmistakably sincere.

you mirrored his shy smile, “i’m glad you did now.”

he chuckled, his fingers brushing over yours one last time before he let go. he stepped back, giving you a final smile before heading down the steps.

"good night, y/n."

other members under the cut!

── .✦ fuma (446 words)

you took his hand, carefully placing the small box inside before letting go and telling him to open his eyes again.

he followed your instructions, looking at the box with a hint of confusion, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"you're supposed to open it," you said with a playful laugh.

fuma opened the box, and his eyes widened in surprise at what he saw. "tada!" you said with a bright, excited smile.

he examined the pokémon figurine more closely, almost as if checking to see if it was real.

"how did you– ?"

"i found a store the other day that sold the mystery boxes they come in," you explained, and then added a bit more sheepishly, "i really wanted you to open it, but i couldn’t resist peeking. and i knew this was the one you were missing, so...”

fuma looked at you, his smile growing wider. "did you know this one’s super rare? most people barely pull it," he said, his voice full of admiration. "you’re my lucky charm."

his words sounded platonic, but they felt like so much warmer. heat rose to your cheeks and you quickly looked down, hoping he hadn’t noticed – but he was too wrapped up in the excitement of his new collection piece to catch it. his face lit up with a smile as wide as a child’s in a candy store.

"thank you so much, really," he said, still beaming. "i was only missing this one, and i kept getting duplicates of the others and– my god, i could kiss you!" he babbled on, too caught up in his excitement to realize the slip of his words.

your head shot up again, though your face only got redder.

"you could what?"

your question pulled fuma's focus back to you. "what?"

his face paled when he realized what he'd said. "i–... i'm sorry, i..." his voice trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

you swallowed your nervousness and, with a steadying breath, asked him, "why don’t you do it?"

this time, it was his turn to look at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushing with color. yet, he slowly stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he softly traced his thumb over your skin.

"are you sure?" he asked carefully, almost shyly.

instead of replying, you brought your hands to his shoulders, pulled him down a little and stepped on your tippy toes to connect your lips in a soft kiss.

── .✦ nicholas (424 words)

she'd be back in five minutes, your friend had said. over 45 minutes had passed since then, and she was still nowhere to be seen. you'd be worried if she'd been alone, but you knew she wasn't, so you felt rather annoyed – contemplating if you should just head home.

that's when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, a familiar scent flooding your senses. "there you are," nicholas said, scooting a bit closer to you. you had been on two dates with him before, but you weren't aware he'd be here tonight (if you were, you would have agreed to the party immediately.)

"nicholas?" you asked in confusion, "i didn't know you'd be here."

his lips curved into a playful grin. "well, surprise. and speaking of which, there’s something i want to show you."

he stood up and reached out his hand. you took it, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, and followed him outside the living room and up the staircase.

the cool night air brushed against your skin as he opened the door. you followed him outside, meeting his gaze in confusion.

"it’s my best friend’s place, i know how to get to the rooftop." he explained before you could ask, "you didn’t seem very comfortable back there, so i thought you might feel better here." the thoughtfulness behind his words warmed your chest, despite the chilly air.

still, after standing together for a while, just taking in the view of the starry sky above and the glowing city below, the cold began seeping through your clothes.

"i do feel better here, thanks, nico," you said, doing your best to hide the shiver running through you. "the view is beautiful."

nicholas turned to face you, his expression softening as he took off his jacket. without a word, he draped it around your shoulders, but kept his hands on it. he looked down at you, the warmth of his touch mixing with the cool night air.

"yeah, it is," he replied softly, leaning down just enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

the butterflies were rioting by now, but you stepped a little closer.

"may i?" nicholas whispered, to which you nodded softly.

without a second thought, he pulled you closer by his jacket and brushed his lips over yours.

── .✦ ej (411 words)

there was a small distance between you as you walked, yet every so often, euijoo’s fingers brushed yours . the tiny, accidental touches sent a rush of goosebumps up your arms (which, naturally, you blamed on the cool autumn breeze).

euijoo turned to you, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “do you have plans for the weekend?”

you looked up, meeting his eyes and shaking your head, already feeling excited at the thought of spending more time with him.

his lips curled up into a soft smile, as he hesitated a moment before asking, “would you... maybe like to come over? we could make hot chocolate, try out some fall recipes, maybe watch a few movies?” he hurriedly added, “only if you’re comfortable coming to my place, of course!”

your heart fluttered at the care in his voice, the way he seemed so intent on making sure you felt safe and comfortable.

“i’d love that, euijoo,” you replied, unable to keep the smile from spreading across your lips. he smiled back, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges.

you were so caught up in each other that neither of you realized you’d stopped walking until the sharp ring of a bicycle bell jolted you back. before you could react, euijoo’s hands found your arms, and he gently pulled you closer to make space for the cyclist.

the biker whizzed past you, but euijoo’s hands stayed on your arms, his touch ever so gentle. when you looked up, you found yourself pressed lightly against his chest and you swore you could hear his heartbeat under the thin fabric of his sweater – just a bit faster than healthy.

you opened your mouth to apologize, but he shook his head, his gaze soft and his fingers lingering as if hesitating to let you go. instead, he pulled you a little closer, his face leaning down toward yours and his cheeks painted with a faint flush.

your heart hammered in your chest, and before you could second-guess it, you rose up on your toes, softly brushing your lips against his.

── .✦ yuma (389 words)

you rolled your eyes but suppressed a grin, "it's not even that good."

yuma grinned with an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes. before you could react, his hands darted to your sides, fingers pressing into your ribs just enough to make you squirm.

“wait– yuma, no!” you squealed, immediately starting to laugh as he tickled you mercilessly. You tried, and failed, to push him away, your helpless attempts to get him off you drawing a chuckle from him.

“admit i was right!” he pressed, his face lighting up with an amused grin as he kept going.

“never!” you gasped between giggles, desperately twisting to escape his grasp. somehow, in the midst of it all, he managed to get a better hold, pinning you down gently as he continued to tickle you.

“say it!” he insisted.

"fine! you’re right!” you gasped out, breathless. “you win, you win!”

he stopped, both of you still laughing as you caught your breath. as your laughter died down, the room felt oddly silent – the sound of the movie playing only a faint background noise. that’s when yuma noticed the way you looked up at him – lips slightly parted and breath still coming in short bursts – when he noticed how close you were.

his face softened as he slowly leaned over just enough to place his hands on the sofa on each side of your head. his gaze left yours for a heartbeat, dropping to your lips, before he looked up again.

just as he was about to back away, you quickly grabbed his shirt to pull him down again and tilted your head up, closing the space between you. his breath caught in surprise as your lips brushed softly against his. for a heartbeat, he stayed still, then slowly relaxed, leaning in to return the kiss. he lifted one hand from the sofa to gently cup your face, sweeping his thumb over your cheek.

the world outside faded, the movie long forgotten, as you melted into the kiss. when he finally pulled back, his eyes sparkled, a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

“so… does this mean i won twice?”

── .✦ jo (373 words)

you two had met at the beginning of semester in an art class, and although neither of you talked much, you instantly clicked. you had started hanging out after classes, and tonight he'd invited you over to just do what you loved the most.

you both enjoyed working on your own pieces while still not being alone – it almost filled you with ease. somehow, being near jo made everything feel right, even the silence.

both of you were leaning over your drawings, your heads almost touching. every time you looked up at him, a smile tugged at your lips as you noticed the little things you shared – like how he tilted his head the same way you did when concentrating, or the way he pressed his lips together just like you often did. finding jo felt like finding another version of yourself.

you turned your focus back to the paper in front of you, continuing your sketch, when a strand of hair fell out of your bun and onto jo's drawing.

he stopped and looked up from his paper, only to realize how close your faces were when you looked up as well. your eyes immediately met his, and for some reason, you couldn't look away this time.

he let go of his pencil and brought his hand up to gently tuck the loose strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes only leaving yours to glance down at your lips for a split second before you got lost in them again.

his hand lingered on your cheek for another second, but let go when he saw the slightest flush of pink on your cheeks.

yet, he leaned in just a tiny bit, waiting almost shyly for your reaction. his action made the pull you'd already felt towards him even stronger, so you reciprocated it.

jo met you halfway, closing the bit of distance that was left between you, and gently placed his soft lips on top of yours.

── .✦ harua (421 words)

"i took so long to straighten my hair," you sulked, drawing a little chuckle from harua.

you were still too far from home and you knew you wouldn't make it before it would start pouring, but you still walked faster.

as the first drop of rain fell onto harua's glasses, he took off his jacket and carefully draped it over your head, making sure to cover as much of your hair as possible.

you felt a comforting warmth, not only from his jacket and the faint scent of his perfume on the piece of clothing, but from the action itself – the fact that he'd made sure to cover your hair only cause you'd complained about the effort you'd put into them.

as the rainfall started to become heavier – and you glanced over to see harua's hair already slightly dampened, the fabric of his sweater daring to soak up – you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a closed store, finding shelter under its small front porch.

you pressed your back against the door to offer him as much space as possible, but even though you two already stood unnervingly close, the raindrops continued to fall onto harua's back.

"thank you for the jacket," you broke the silence, your voice barely audible above the plattering of the rain. harua smiled softly and grabbed your wrists as you attempted to take his jacket off your head to give it back to him.

"keep it, it's cold," he replied, his voice as soft as the look in his eyes.

you looked up at him as if asking if he was sure, and without a word, he gave you a reassuring smile. his eyes locked with yours, only interrupted by a glance down to your lips that didn't last longer than three seconds.

your heart started pounding heavier against your chest as you noticed, and you tilted your head up just slightly, as if testing the waters.

harua seemed to understand, your action being the only thing he needed to know you were thinking the same, and lowered his head to meet yours – your lips just inches away, but he hesitated.

you brought your shaking hands up to his cheeks, gently pulling him down to close the distance between you, and finally feeling his soft, slightly wet from the raindrops, lips on yours.

── .✦ taki (428 words)

“you know what's the third date tradition, right?” he'd grinned, but you hadn't taken it seriously, as you'd slipped into the photobooth with barely enough room for two.

the machine counted down, the screen flashing a “get ready!” message in bold letters. the two of you pulled silly faces for the first couple of pictures, but as the screen showed the countdown for the final photo, taki glanced at you – his expression shifting from playful to something softer.

“can i… kiss you?” he asked, his voice quiet against the noise of the arcade outside.

your heart skipped a beat, a flurry of butterflies taking over as you looked at him, his face just inches from yours in the tiny space. but the machine was already ticking down the last few seconds, the numbers flashing on the screen, ready to snap its final shot.

without thinking, you leaned in, closing the gap between you with a quick, soft kiss just before the camera flashed. when you pulled back, you caught the flicker of surprise in his eyes. then, he blinked, a bit dazed, and let out a soft laugh. “wow. you barely even gave me a chance to finish asking.”

you shrugged, cheeks warm as you leaned back against the booth wall. “the machine doesn’t wait,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

he grinned back, still seeming a little dazed. “can’t argue with that logic.”

the photos printed with a soft whir, and taki grabbed the strip, studying the last picture with a smile. in it, your lips were just barely touching, your eyes closed, his hand blurry as he'd moved it up to cup your cheek, and you couldn’t help but blush as you looked over his shoulder.

“i guess the photobooth captured our first kiss,” he said, his voice soft, a small, slightly shy smile on his face.

you replied with a nod, your own smile widening as you glanced back up at him.

he grinned, slipping the photo strip into his pocket. “i think we’ll have to come back here and get one for each date.”

── .✦ maki (486 words)

"kiss y/n or wash the dishes!"

your eyes widened at taki's words.

"what?" you and maki asked in unison, your voices equally shocked.

your heartbeat quickened. you'd had a crush on maki for a while now (though you'd never admit that) and you couldn't help but feel a hint of excitement bubble up in your stomach.

maki furrowed his brows, looking everywhere but your direction, and slowly shook his head after some moments of hesitation.

everyone started cheering, happy to have skipped washing the dishes for another day, but you just blinked in confusion as the excitement made way to something else that felt suspiciously much like disappointment.

you stayed silent until the round finished and slipped away to the bathroom as the game wrapped up. maki’s gaze followed you until you disappeared behind the door, and he sighed softly.

while the others headed to the living room, maki stayed behind in the kitchen, starting to rinse the plates and bowls.

when you returned, you glanced around and asked, voice a bit unsteady, "where did everyone else go?" sure he wouldn’t hear you, you were surprised when maki looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time since backing out of his dare. he turned off the water before replying, “they’re in the living room.”

you nodded and started to turn toward the door, but maki quickly dried his hands and stepped over, reaching to catch your arm. “wait, y/n… are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"just didn't think i'm so unkissable that you prefer washing the dishes of ten people," you said with a chuckle that sounded more forced than intended.

"no!" he protested. then, he added a little more seriously, “i just… didn’t want our first kiss to happen over a silly dare.”

"don't explain, maki, i totally get it, i–", you began, but stopped short as his words sank in. "wait. what do you mean 'our first kiss'?"

maki sighed. he wished he could somehow back out from this but there was no logical excuse for what he'd said, so he decided to go with the truth.

he looked down briefly before confessing, “i like you. i have for a while now. nico said he was sure you felt the same way. and… well, a game just didn’t seem like the right time for a first kiss.”

you felt your heartbeat pick up, and a smile tugged at your lips as you took a small step closer. "would now be a better time?” you asked softly.

maki’s eyes widened a bit, a flicker of hope crossing his face. “what… do you mean?”

you chuckled, genuinely this time. “that i like you too, idiot.”

a smile spread across his face as his eyes softened. “in that case… i’d say now is perfect,” he murmured, lifting his hands to gently cup your cheeks and leaning in until his lips met yours. <3

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1K notes · View notes

kireilien · 26 days ago

Note

Hope u dont mind the spam 😣

Reader is maki's gf buuuut maki lets nico eat you out. Why? Cause he wanted to learn "properly". Everything else is history.

ur giving me a run for my money this was so nghhhh da inspo nd that one comment “why they running a 2man on a burger” LOL but i had to make this into a love letter this is so mind blowing ty # anon

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing; bf!maki, bf bsf!nicholas, sub!reader, fem!reader, race neutral reader, “condescending,” “objectification,” thoughts of this being pseudo-cheating, maki sharing you, oral (f receiving), clit stim, ruined orgasm, lwk they pretend like you’re not there..., reader is referred to as “maki’s girl” a few times, the tws i’ll explain under the cut!

this was also inspired by one of my favorite nsfw asmrists on reddit u/-basilbasilbasil- and their audio about pussy inspection it just screams this scenario which is why i added those tags just in case if someone reads it and finds it uncomfortable! was also totally inspired by fumabun’s kissing ranking, just translated it to pussy eating lolz anyways

“okay. pretend like they aren’t wet already.”

“how am i supposed to do that.”

“just pretend, dude. i’m teaching you how to eat box, they’re not supposed to be wet already.”

your bottom half is already bare, pussy open to both nicholas and maki. embarrassingly wet in front of them, you still couldn’t believe that maki– your fuckass boyfriend– was scared to try eating you out, so he asked nicholas– his best friend– to eat you out. it’s hard to pretend to sit there like a sex toy for their use, but i guess it’s all worth it for maki’s experience– and better yet your sex life and pleasure.

“some guys just lay there, some guys just spread their legs, but you gotta hook your arms under their legs like this,” nicholas demonstrates by using his strong arms to clutch onto your legs. his hands slide down your inner thighs to spread them out a little more. maki sits up further on your bed to see nicholas’ next moves. “see when you have them like this, you have your eye on the prize.” maki nods at nicholas as he starts lowering his head.

he flicks his tongue only slightly against your clit. you jolt at the sudden movement, “you wanna start off by only focusing on the clit. this is the clit. remember it. don’t be stupid and not know where it is because if the two of you break up, that’s gonna spread.” maki side eyed nicholas at his passive comment only for a bit before nicholas continued. “bob your tongue like this– it makes them wet, making them ready for you to eat up.” although nicholas’ tongue was out, causing his speech to get slightly unintelligible, maki still knew what he was talking about.

as nicholas carries on, your thighs twitch and soft moans fall from your lips. maki was good for calling nicholas out of everyone to eat you out. nicholas pull back only slightly, “see how they’re flowing? you can also thumb at them like this to get the same effect. just focus on the clit for a little bit.” nicholas’ thumb is rough, different from maki’s hands. your breath hitches and start breaking when your head is thrown back in your pillows. “see that? notice how they react too. if they’re unfazed, that’s how you know you’re fucked.”

maki simply nods and hums once more. “and listen too. listen for the smallest things. you wanna know if they’re groaning like they’re hurting, humming like they’re bored, or actually whimpering for you.” nicholas points at his ear to indicate his ‘teachings’ to maki.

“okay, after a few minutes, clit stuff isn’t it anymore, focus on their hole,” nicholas starts off first before coming back down to your pussy. “pussy juice is addicting, so don’t go all in. savor it. if you go crazy style, they’re just gonna get weirded out.” maki peers over your thighs once more to watch nicholas. “watch. take your tongue, cup it like this,” nicholas shows maki his tongue slightly curled before coming back down, “scoop up their wetness.” nicholas uses his curled tongue to push your leaking pussy juice against his tongue to taste you. nicholas smacks his lips once before muttering and flexing his jaw, “fuck, your girl tastes good.” maki jerks his head, “wait, what’d you say?” nicholas shakes his head, “nothing.”

continuing on, nicholas starts up once more, “use your tongue and mouth at their entire pussy– like make out with it– watch.” nicholas uses his plush lips to envelop your pussy. his tongue drags up your labia and back up to your clit while closing his lips around it. maki’s looking intensely as if he’s taking notes up in his brain. nicholas keeps at it, “here, you kinda just freestyle. watch how they move and react. you might wanna snake your tongue down… kiss up in it… bite and suck at their lips… flick your tongue inside… tongue them back up… do whatever they like.” as nicholas talked, he reciprocated his words to his actions. if he talked about tonguing you, he tongued you. if he kisses you, he kisses you. almost down to an art.

nicholas’ hands found themselves squeezing at the flesh of your thighs and ass as he watches you unfold on his tongue. your hands are gripping at your sheets, knees are bent up, legs closing in on the sides of his head. while your cries are growing louder. each moan, whine, and croak of pleasure is getting nicholas so fucking hard. his pants are tent up by how his cock is straining at his boxers. shit. if he had a girl too, he’d feel so fucking bad, but your pussy is heaven to him. the way you’re melting on his tongue and taste like pure gold. thank god this isn’t technically cheating on maki.

right when you feel the knot in your stomach inches away from snapping, nicholas pulls away. you whine, “what–! fuck–!” nicholas lips his lips from your sweet juices, his eyes are zeroing into yours. fuck. he feels so wrong for not letting you cum but, you are maki’s girl. “you’re up, man. eat your girl out like i just showed you.” maki exhales deeply before switching with nicholas, “i’ll do it better than you. no one will make my girl cum like i do.”

“sure, dude.”

might extend this with the maki part and make it like a ramble?

back 2 maki catalog / back 2 catalog

526 notes · View notes

leechqnsgirl · 2 months ago

Text

🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮ too much

notes: based off of this ask

-- you've been feeling a bit insecure because of your recent weight gain, but your boyfriend seems to be obsessed with it.

18+ | nicholas x fem!reader | wc: 1.8k | masterlist

warnings: talk about weight gain and insecurities, piv, cumming inside

****

you haven't seen your boyfriend for a few weeks since he was currently in korea and you were still in japan.

to say you were just missing him is a massive understatement. since you two started dating, the most you went without seeing each other was just a few days. but now?

it's been about two months.

you'd been eating a bit more just to distract yourself from your boyfriend's absence.

cooking and baking new recipes, buying new snacks and going out with friends for some comfort.

you hadn't really taken notice of it until you were trying on some dresses, seeing how a bit of extra chub on your body was visible on some ends.

in all honesty, it wasn't much but to you it was noticeable enough.

you know that nicholas would never hate you, or degrade you. but there was still that voice in the back of your head. the one that makes you sit in front of the mirror for minutes into hours, making you question if you're even good enough for him.

in your logic, nicholas is always working out, he's always in shape but what about you? yeah maybe he has the pressure of being an idol, but you’re an idols girlfriend.

you got a text from nicho saying he'd just landed and he'll be at your place soon.

you were beyond happy, it's been so long and factimes between you two weren't cutting it anymore. you were so excited that it felt like your mind temporarily numbed that little insecure corner of your brain.

knock knock.

"coming!!" you chirped out, rushing over towards the door. you didn't even need to ask if it was nicho. you just knew.

as soon as you opened the door and he stepped in, he pulled your body against his, digging his face into your neck.

"god, I missed you so much, y/n." was the first thing he told you, when you tried to step back to get a look at him, he pulled you right back in. "please...let's just stay like this for a bit." he pleaded, making it seem as though those two months away from you drained him, and you were his battery.

soon enough, the two of you got settled in. you were working on a simple dinner while he went to take a shower.

he came out, standing by the entrance of the kitchen watching you.

you hadn't noticed him at first, too busy with the food. and it wasn't until you turned around for something when you saw him. startled at first, but you smiled.

"hi, babe. just a few more minutes and we can sit down together." you were expecting to hear some sort of a response from behind you. something like an oh okay or alright, honey. but you got nothing.

you thought he walked away at first, but when you turned to look for a second, you saw him in the same position. leaned against the kitchen entrance.

and he was looking at you. but not looking at you.

his eyes were trailing along your body.

and that's when that unsettling feeling set in, that feeling where you just feel...unattractive.

you also became aware of what you were wearing. it was a tight tank top and some mid thigh shorts.

you didn't know exactly why he was staring at you, you just knew that he was.

"baby..." he said quietly, walking towards you. when he reached you, he lifted your face up by your chin. "why do you look nervous?" his eyes traced your face, but couldn't help to sneak a look a bit below at times.

"i-i'm not nervous. it's just," you sighed, "its nothing, nicho."

if there was one thing that nicholas hated about you, it was definitely that you would tend to undermine yourself at times.

and he could tell you were doing it now.

he reached behind you, turning the stove off. leading your body to the side a bit, he hooked his hands under your thighs, and out of instinct you held onto his shoulders as he lifted you onto the counter.

his hands rested atop your thighs, gliding them up and down in a soothing motion.

"you know, when I first arrived here," he brought his head over to your neck, leaving kisses in between his words. "and I hugged you...I could almost tell something was different about you." he continued on, switching the opposite side of your neck now. you let out a sigh.

"I shrugged it off though, because maybe I was thinking that since it's been a while. but fuck," he lifts his head up, his eyes meeting yours. "when I saw you in here, in this outfit. I knew what it was." he never said the words out loud but you knew what he was talking about.

his hands moved to hold onto your hips, a place that had been a victim of your slight weight gain. "and you look so fucking sexy." he practically groaned out the words, looking deep into your eyes before he smashed his lips against yours.

you gave a small gasp, slightly stunned but soon enough you felt yourself melt into the kiss, lightly tugging on the hairs on the back of his neck.

you felt his hands travel all over your body. going from your face to your arms to your waist, then your hips and thighs once again. it was like he was getting a feel for it all. it was all new to him. and god, did he love it.

he thinks you're glowing, you look beautiful, and so the moment he saw you hide into yourself, he knew he couldn't hold his words back anymore. he couldn't hold back anymore.

he broke away from the kiss, tugging his shirt off doing the same with yours.

his eyes were glued to your chest, snaking an arm around you to unhook your bra.

god, and when it fell? he felt crazy. it'd been too long since he even touched you, and given how you look now...he doesn't think he'll last an hour with you.

the breath he let out was audible, and strained, you could practically feel his neediness radiating off him. and the sweats he was wearing did no job at hiding his hard on.

he had to have you bare before he did anything. he had to see you. he wanted to be able to kiss and touch down your body with no restrictions. and with that, he slid down your shorts and panties. leaving you completely bare for him.

he lifted you up, carrying and placing you down so you were laying back onto the kitchen tiles. the cold floors causing a shiver to run up your spine.

"I'm sorry, y/n, I just can't, i-i need you now, baby. I need you here." he felt the room get too hot, beginning to wonder why he had some of his own clothing still on.

it wasn't long before he lined himself up to your entrance. slowly inching inside you, he kept his hands on your hips, squeezing at them. his eyes never left your face, not until he bottomed out completely. kicking his head back with a long moan.

"you're so perfect, baby." he praised, "so fucking perfect."

you could feel him going faster, having you let out loud moans of his name.

he leaned his head down, latching his lips onto one of your nipples. he heard you whimper, moving his hips faster. "bigger for me now, hm?" he mumbled against your tit, he lifted his head, trailing kisses from your tits to your stomach now.

"fuck," he muttered, everything felt too much for him, “you’re so tight.” he moaned, “you didn’t play with yourself while i was gone?” he teased against your ear, biting the lobe gently.

he didn't expect you to reply, so when you shook your head, saying how nothing felt like him, he felt a shudder go through his body. because, god he couldn't agree more. nothing felt like you either.

he would spend nights awake sexually frustrated because he just couldn't get off. tugging at his cock for what felt like hours, and he wanted to call you so bad but he was always afraid. afraid he’d be bothering you all because he couldn't keep it in his pants.

“n-nicho,” you whimpered out. he knew you were close, he could feel you tighten around him over and over again. “i know, baby.” he reassured you, doing his best to keep his pace and rhythm up.

“nicho,” you said, voice heavy, “a-are you wearing a condom?”

his eyes widened, he’d been so caught up with you that he completely forgot to wear a fucking condom.

“no…” he said, voiced laced with guilt and shame. “i’ll pull out, okay? don't worry your head baby.” he felt himself right at the edge.

but fuck, you felt so warm and tight and soft and-

he didn't even trust himself to pull out anymore, everything was just too much.

you laced your fingers in his hair, pulling his head down to above yours. “don’t nicho...god, i don’t care if you fucking knock me up. i just need you.”

and how was he supposed to say no? he couldn't even bring up the thought of saying no to you.

and when he finally cums, hips flush against yours, spilling his seed deep in you...he feels like he should’ve denied, should’ve said no but, fuck, he doesnt think he cares. he waited too long for this, for you.

he’s still panting into your neck long after you both finished, and you keep him there, playing with his hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

your heart aches a bit, realizing that over the last few weeks, he didn’t just miss you. but he missed everything that came with you.

your hugs, your scent, your hands, your love.

you could tell he wasn’t himself during sex, he seemed so much more touchy, more hasty and just more desperate.

you feel him lift his head, rolling over so he's on his side facing you.

“you’re so beautiful.” he pressed a feather light kiss on your cheek. “and i need you to know that nothing could change that. nothing could ever make me find you anything but.” he looks at you, placing a hand over your thigh, squeezing it. “would you hate me if i said that you look hotter this way?” he teased, biting his tongue.

you raised an eyebrow, “so what, are you saying i wasn't hot before?” he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “i said hotter, meaning i always found you hot, babe.”

you snuggled into him, smiling at his response.

“do you realize we’re cuddling on the kitchen floor...?”

he shrugged his shoulders, “we’ll get up, i just wanna hold you a bit more, baby.”

#&team #andteam x reader #&team smut #&team x reader #andteam hard hours #andteam hard thoughts #&team hard thoughts #&team hard hours #andteam smut #&team fluff #&team nicholas #nicholas #nicho #&team nicho #andteam nicholas #wang yixiang x reader #wang yixiang #andteam imagines #andteam

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zhaozi · 2 months ago

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Hunter ❤️‍🔥

#&team #kpopccc #kpopedit #mgroupsedit #malegroupsnet #dailybg #kpopco #ultkpopnetwork #nugudom #kflops #&team: jo #&team: maki #&team: nicholas #m:gifs

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nicholasluvbot · 2 months ago

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ㅤ GOODNIGHT N GO ꣑୧ 𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗃𝗈

𝖲𝖢𝖤𝖭𝖤, 𝗃𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎

❪ 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 ❫ 𝖿𝖾𝗆 ! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 500 ✿ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌2𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 ───𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾

✉️ㅤ 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝖾

jo is walking beside you in the quiet night, hands shoved in his pockets, heart full to the brim. it’s late—past midnight now—and your place is in the complete opposite direction of his. but he doesn’t mention it. not when you offered to call a cab, not when you gently reminded him that his house was the other way. he just shook his head and smiled, shrugging off his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders when he saw you shiver.

now your hands are brushing every now and then as you walk side by side, your laughter still lingering in the air from something he said a few blocks ago.

you’re wearing his jacket. you’re smiling up at him.

and still, jo’s not sure.

at your doorstep, you turn to face him under the soft yellow glow of the porch light, your lips tugging into a sleepy smile as you clutch the jacket a little tighter.

“thanks for walking me,” you say. “even though your house is the other way.”

jo shrugs, a little bashful, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, not knowing what to say.

your hair looks beautiful in this lighting, he thinks. and your eyes are shining as you look up at him. and your lips—

jo immediately looks away. blood rushes to his face, and when he meets your eyes again, your eyebrows are slightly raised. you definitely noticed.

he straightens up, clearing his throat. “goodnight,” he whispers, almost apologetically. “i’ll… um… see you tomorrow.”

he turns and starts walking, fists clenched like he’s scolding himself for even thinking he had a chance.

“jo,” you call out.

he stops and looks back at you, a little confused, like he’s sure he imagined your voice.

you take a few steps forward. and before he can even turn to face you fully, your hands slip into the collar of his shirt and tug him down just slightly—just enough for your lips to meet his.

his hands hover for a moment before settling at your waist—gentle, unsure. he tilts his head, kissing you back like he’s afraid he’ll wake up. and in his mind, he swears—if this is a dream, he’s going to make the most of it.

you pull away to catch your breath, only to be met with his wide, starry eyes. completely lovestruck. you can’t help it—you kiss him again, this time slower, deeper. your fingers thread through his hair, your other hand tugging at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. jo melts into you, lips barely parted, too caught up to remember how to breathe.

then suddenly—beep.

you both flinch at the sharp noise, instinctively pulling apart.

jo stands frozen. hair tousled. lips pink and kiss-bitten. eyes dazed like he doesn’t even know what just happened. he doesn’t realize where the sound came from until he notices you glancing down.

his smartwatch is blinking. ‘abnormal heart rate detected.’

blood rushes to his face as makes a flimsy attempt to hide his wrist behind his back.

“...it—it does that sometimes,” he stammers, clearly lying. “it’s… probably broken.”

you laugh, eyes twinkling. “or maybe it works completely fine.”

you press the jacket into his arms before slipping inside, leaving him frozen on your front step, holding his own coat and a still-beeping watch.

@coquettejunnie @hanninova @aloe-7 @rizzkisworld @slytherinshua @i03jae @xaer1s @peterm4rker @sofix-hc7 @fae-renjun @bambisnc @talkingsaxy @sunnyhaki @gyulune @mbella607 @hollyoongs @lune-net @kstrucknet @k-films

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starryjake · 11 days ago

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comfort | w.y & b.e

in which your best friends find a way to make you feel better after your breakup.

pairing: best friend!nicholas x fem!reader x best friend!euijoo

includes: threesome obviously, MXM CONTENT SO DONT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE (they just make out), oral sex ( f and m receiving), cum eating, unprotected intercourse, nipple play, cumming inside, (lmk if i forgot anything!).

“i’m really worried about her,” ej said to nicholas, the two of them standing outside your apartment.

ej was carrying a bouquet of flowers and nicholas had a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. they’d knocked on your door a minute ago, but you still haven’t come to answer it.

“she doesn’t see it now, but it’s for the better,” nicholas said. “that guy was an asshole.”

“i know,” ej agreed. “i don’t understand how anyone could cheat on her. she’s so—”

the lock clicked on the other side of the door, so ej shut himself up before you could open it to find them talking about you.

“there she is,” nicholas said warmly. “how are you?”

“never better,” you lied, stepping to the side so they could come in. “you guys didn’t have to do all this.”

“we wanted to,” ej responded, handing the flowers to you as he walked in.

“this is really sweet,” you said with a sigh, bringing the floral arrangement up to your nose and inhaling their fresh scent.

“i brought wine,” nicholas said from the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets for glasses. “figured that could come in handy.”

“that sounds perfect,” you said.

within a few minutes, the three of you were gathered in your living room, each holding a glass of wine. ej and nicholas graciously sat there and listened to you rant.

“i just can’t believe he would do this to me,” you gushed, your eyes watering. you stared down into your glass of wine, continuing. “was our entire relationship a joke to him? was i just a joke?”

“of course not,” nicholas said.

“he’s an idiot for doing that to you,” ej insisted, scooting over to sit closer to you. he placed a hand on your thigh and said, “no one in there right mind would cheat on you if they had you. he was crazy.”

his words meant a lot to you. for weeks now, you had been heartbroken thinking about your failed relationship. you’d cancelled on all your friends, not just nicholas and ej, unable to find it in you to hang out with anyone. but now that they were there, you were beyond glad.

“it just sucks,” you mumbled, quickly dabbing at your watery eyes.

nicholas came and sat on the other side of you, taking the liberty to brush some of your hair out of your face. he then rubbed your back soothingly.

“i know,” he cooed. “is there anything we can do to make it better? anything at all?”

you sniffled, pondering the question.

“you could beat him up,” you joked. nicholas and ej exchanged serious glances with each other. “guys, i was kidding.”

“we’d do it, though,” ej said, his thumb gliding back and forth on your thigh. “anything you need, y/n, you name it and we’ve got you.”

you smiled softly, grateful that you had friends as good as them. friends who were willing to beat up the guy who’d put you through hell, just to make you feel better.

“thank you guys,” you said, your voice soft.

both of them were right there beside you, both their hands on your body in some way, both staring at you like they could see your soul. you were intimidated, despite having known them both for years and trusting them with your life.

you looked over at ej, finding comfort in the way his big brown eyes looked you over protectively. then over at nicholas, who’s sharp eyes were dark and serious, ready to make things right for you however he had to.

you suddenly had a weird feeling in your stomach. heat was spreading throughout your body, and you had to push your thighs together to ease some of the tension that was building.

why the hell were you feeling…turned on? over your two best friends of all people?

you sighed, then said, “i must’ve had too much wine.”

they both glanced over at your glass. you’d only really had about two sips. you couldn’t blame the way you were feeling on the alcohol.

“why do you say that?” nicholas wondered.

“‘cause i feel…”you trailed off, unsure if you should be telling them that you suddenly felt turned on. “weird.”

“weird how?” ej asked.

“i don’t know, i…”

you trailed off again, overcome with embarrassment. they both knew how you were feeling. it wasn’t hard to tell based on the way you were so obviously squeezing your thighs together. but they wanted to hear you say it.

“what is it?” nicholas urged. “do you feel okay?”

“yeah, i feel okay,” you assured. “i don’t know. you guys probably don’t wanna hear about it.”

“hey, we’re here for you,” ej cooed, squeezing your thigh slightly. “we’re your best friends. you can tell us anything.”

you looked over at nicholas, and he smiled reassuringly, which gave you the strength to admit your current predicament.

“i just kinda got…turned on,” you finally admitted.

a silence dwelled in your living room.

you immediately brought your knees up to your chest, knocking both their hands off of you, and hid your face in your hands.

“sorry,” you groaned, hiding from them as best as you could. “i don’t know. i’m a mess. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“hey,” ej said, his hand coming firmly to your back. “look at me.”

you shook your head, too mortified to let them see your face. still, ej pushed your hands out of the way, revealing your blushing face to both him and nicholas.

what you weren’t expecting was ej to smile sweetly at you before leaning in and kissing you. his hands came up to cradle your face, and you immediately melted into the kiss, sighing into his mouth.

you were already starting to sweat from how turned on you were. you brought your hands up to his neck and brought one of them into his hair, tugging softly on the dark strands.

you both mutually pulled away from each other a moment later, staring at each other in shock. that was when you remembered nicholas was still sitting right there next to you.

his face was serious as ever, but you could see the hint of a smirk creeping up. you could also see an evident erection in his sweatpants from watching you and ej make out.

“do you wanna do this?” he asked.

“do what?” you wondered.

“do you want us to make you feel better?” ej intervened.

you gulped. you barely hesitated before nodding your head.

“use your words, baby,” nicholas instructed.

“yes,” you answered confidently. “i want to feel better.”

nicholas and ej smirked to each other, then started to stand up.

“let’s go to your room,” ej suggested.

so, the three of you ditched the wine and the pizza and made your way to your bedroom. it was a short walk to get there, just down the hall, but the entire time you were in your head, questioning if you were really about to have a threesome with your two best friends.

the answer, though, was yes. you sure were.

once the three of you were in your bedroom, clothing started flying off. first was nicholas’ shirt, then yours, then ej’s.

you got on your bed and lay on your back, waiting for the men to join you on either side.

“c’mere, baby,” nicholas said, kneeling by your side.

you sat up on your knees to be more level with him and he pushed his lips against yours. his kiss was harder than ej’s, rougher and messier. you could practically feel yourself dripping in your shorts.

you entangled your fingers in his hair, trying to match his pace.

behind you, ej joined the two of you on the bed. he took the liberty to unhook your bra for you, sliding it down your arms and off your body. nicholas had to pull back then to get a good look at you.

“fuck,” he grunted. “you’re so pretty, baby.”

you blushed, crossing your arms over your chest as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. you were completely shirtless in front of ej and nicholas, and that was terrifying.

“don’t be embarrassed,” ej cooed, softly guiding your hands away from your chest. “you’re perfect.”

he kissed you again, bringing his hand up to one of your tits and squeezing it. you gasped into his mouth as he rubbed his fingers over your erect nipple expertly.

while you were kissing him, nicholas stripped himself of his pants and underwear, leaving him completely bare. his cock was so hard that it stood completely straight up, hitting his lower abdomen.

he wrapped his hand around his thick length and watched you and ej make out for a moment, staring shamelessly.

when you finally pulled away and noticed what nicholas was doing, you wanted to help. you crawled over to him, slowly pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with your own.

nicholas leaned back on his palms and watched you stroke his length, biting his lip to hold back any noises.

ej took that moment to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, then helped you fully undress the rest of the way while you stroked nicholas.

once all three of you were fully naked, nicholas stopped your hand from jerking him off any further. he guided you to lay flat on your back, and all you could do was watch and see what they were going to do next.

both of them moving at the same time was overwhelming. you didn’t know who to focus on. you had to focus on both of them at the same time somehow.

ej positioned himself with his face between your legs while nicholas kneeled at the side of your head. he rubbed his leaking tip on your lips, guiding his cock into your mouth.

meanwhile, ej leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your clit, stroking your thigh. he licked a stripe up your pussy, tasting your arousal and moaning. you were perfect, he thought. you tasted perfect and your pussy felt so good against the tip of his tongue.

he tilted his head to the side, flicking his tongue up and down your folds. you writhed, gasping and huffing while jutting your hips up against his face.

at the same time, you had to manage sucking nicholas off. he wasn’t being too difficult about it. he let you just lick along his length and suck on his tip. the night was about you after all. he didn’t expect you to deep throat him, not right away anyway.

you could feel ej’s finger as it slid inside your fluttering hole, and you took it with ease. you gasped at the sensation, clenching around the finger and tilting your head back.

“does it feel good?” nicholas asked you, his voice deeper than normal. “is he eating your pussy good?

“yes,” you cried out, looking up at him with glistening eyes. “feels so fucking good.”

ej hummed against your pussy, which made you look down to watch him. he seemed like he was truly content there between your legs, licking and fingering you like it was his job.

he looked so pretty down there too. strands of hair were falling into his face, his cheeks a soft shade of pink and his lips were swollen and glistening with your wetness.

it was hard to concentrate on getting eaten out at the same time as sucking off nicholas. you tried, but ultimately, he had to do most of the work, thrusting his thick length in and out of your throat.

“that’s it, baby,” he cooed, pushing some hair out of your face. “doing so good.”

you were moaning around his cock, vibrating it and making nicholas want to thrust into your mouth even harder. he’d always thought you were pretty, but he thought you might’ve been even prettier when his dick was down your throat.

the way ej was licking you up and down in long, fluid strokes, and back and forth, and in circles was all too much. he was too good, and you were so sensitive. you just couldn’t last.

“euijoo,” you practically whimpered. “i’m gonna cum.”

he moaned into your pussy, squeezing your thighs, like he was wordlessly giving you permission to let go. and let go you did.

you had to pull off nicholas’s length as it hit you, too overwhelmed to focus on anything but the orgasm washing over you. you gripped ej’s hair, nearly sobbing as you came all over his tongue.

“fuck,” ej nearly growled. “so hot, baby. she tastes so good.”

nicholas raised his eyebrow.

“yeah?” he said.

a silence fell upon the three of you then. nicholas and ej blinked at each other. it seemed as though you were all thinking something.

you, personally, were slightly nervous to speak your mind. you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable or ruin anything, but you decided to speak up anyway.

“you wanna taste me?” you asked nicholas, who directed his attention back to you then. “you guys should make out. you’ll be able to taste me on him.”

ej and nicholas briefly met each others gaze. you couldn’t read their expressions, so you were unsure whether they were on board with the idea or not. you just hoped you didn’t make them uncomfortable.

“you want us to make out?” ej asked, slowly sitting up on his knees.

“well,” you stammered, nervous. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. it was just an idea.”

ej smiled down at you before looking back over at nicholas. the corners of nicholas’ lips raised ever so slightly, and you just knew that he was into it.

with both of them on either side of you, they attached their lips together, clearly putting on a show just for you. you sat yourself up slightly, watching in awe without sparing a single blink.

the way they were kissing, so fluidly and in sync, made you question if they’d done it before. the way their hands found their way into each other’s hair felt rehearsed.

the idea turned you on. them kissing right in front of you turned you on. all you could do was watch your two best friends as their kiss turned messier by the second, their tongues both coming into play.

“mmm,” nicholas moaned against ej’s mouth. “she does taste good.”

they pulled back from each other after another minute, looking down at you to see your reaction. you were still just staring at them in awe, wishing you could get between them even more so than you already were.

“c’mere,” ej commanded.

you sat up on your knees like them. ej grabbed your waist and held you flush against his chest before kissing you. nicholas, from behind you, brought his hand down to your pussy and started rubbing you.

you were still sensitive from cumming, your knees buckling slightly. nicholas held you up with his arm around your waist, kissing the back of your neck.

you dug your fingers through ej’s fluffy hair and tugged on it, moaning into his mouth as nicholas massaged your pussy, your pussy that was just aching to be filled by one of them, or better yet, both.

eventually, nicholas grabbed you by the waist and pulled you from ej, laying you down on your back. the two men, both so much taller than you, knelt by your side. you were intimidated and even nervous, but way more excited for finding out what their next plan with you was.

“there’s so much i wanna do with you,” nicholas said, his eyes dark as he scanned your body. “i don’t even know where to start.”

“i’ll give you an idea,” you responded, looking up at him with big eyes. “i need one of you inside me.”

nicholas and ej met each others eyes again, like they were able to communicate telepathically. you want to be let in, to know what they were thinking.

suddenly, nicholas was spreading your legs wide enough to make room to fit himself between them.

“want my dick, baby? is that what you want?” he asked you, stroking your inner thigh, which was shaking ever so slightly. “want me to fuck you?”

“god, nicho,” you cried. “please, i need it so bad. it hurts.”

“it hurts?” said ej, who was at your side. he caressed your face, pushing strands of your hair out of the way. “we’re gonna make it feel better for you, baby. don’t worry.”

you looked up at ej with big eyes. he brought his hand down to your chin, then slid his thumb into your mouth. you sucked on it, swirling your tongue around it.

it was then that nicholas lined the tip of his swollen cock up with your pussy, and started pushing in.

you clenched your eyes shut, moaning around ej’s finger. ej watched nicholas enter you, pushing himself further and further into your pussy until he couldn’t go anymore.

“fuck,” nicholas shuddered. “oh my god. you’re so warm, baby. so fucking wet and tight.”

ej twitched, wishing he was inside you instead. but he knew his chance would come. he just had to be patient.

he pulled his thumb out of your mouth, letting your moans freely come tumbling past your lips.

“nicho,” you moaned.

“what is it?” he asked. “what do you need, sweet girl?”

“need you to move,” you told him. “please.”

he was quick to listen, pulling his hips back until half of his cock was out of you. then, he pushed back in, feeling you convulse and grip him like your life depended on it.

his pace fastened with each thrust. ej, who could only sit there and watch, brought a hand down to his clothed bulge. he gave himself a squeeze, sighing at the sensation. it wasn’t enough, not even close.

“come here,” you urged, reaching out for him.

he leaned down and you brought your lips together. he sighed into your mouth, bringing his hand up to tweak your nipple and rub it in circles with the tip of his finger.

you couldn’t believe how good you were feeling. you had two of your best friends right next to you, making you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. making you forget all about your shitty ex-boyfriend.

nicholas gripped your thighs and pushed them up to your chest, giving himself more room to thrust harder, and putting you at an angle where his cock hit the deepest part of you, making you see stars.

“fuck!” you yelled out, forced to detach from ej’s lips. “oh my—fuck, it feels so good.”

ej opted to occupy his lips around your nipple instead, sucking on the hard bud and massaging the other one. all you could do was lay there and take it, letting your best friends pleasure you.

“so good,” nicholas growled, losing his mind every time you clenched around him. “can’t believe how good you are, baby.”

you could feel your high approaching in the base of your stomach, like a wave at its peak. then, it all came crashing down.

you couldn’t even warn him as you started to cum around his cock. you just threw your head back and choked out a sob, tugging ej’s hair as nicholas fucked you through it.

“that’s it, baby,” ej cooed, watching you cum closely. “so fucking pretty when you cum.”

nicholas was staring: at your face, at your tits, at your pussy squeezing desperately around his cock. before he knew it, he was pulling out and jerking himself off to completion.

his load drenched your stomach, but you loved it. it was warm and sticky and all over you.

before you knew it, ej was dragging his fingers through his best friend’s puddle, and bringing his release up to your lips. you happily wrapped your lips around his fingers, sucking nicholas’s cum off ej’s fingers.

“holy shit,” nicholas muttered in awe at the sight in front of him.

once you’d gotten every last drop, ej pulled his fingers from your mouth. the three of you took a second to rest, to catch your breath and calm down.

but it didn’t last long. ej was still bursting through his pants, utterly desperate to get a feel of you.

but of course, he was too sweet and too shy to say anything. all he could do was lay there and watch you, hoping you’d take the hint.

luckily for him, you did.

you moved to straddle ej’s bare lap. he instinctively brought his hands to your waist, watching without a blink as you gripped his cock and lined the tip up with your soaked entrance.

his cock was thinner than nicholas’s, but longer, whereas nicholas was shorter, but the girth filled you up with everything you’d ever needed.

having already been stretched out by nicholas, it was easy to sink down on ej’s cock. but it just kept going. he was so long that he kept filling you, so deep that it felt like he was in your stomach.

“oh my god,” you whispered, planting your hands on his abs. “it’s so deep.”

“yeah?” nicholas joined. “you feel him nice and deep in there?”

“yeah,” you whispered, looking down at ej underneath you.

he was looking back up at your in awe, his nails digging into your hips.

“fuck,” he moaned. “you’re so perfect.”

you couldn’t go any longer without moving, so you raised yourself up slightly on your knees before sinking back down on him, feeling every inch of him fill you up.

you couldn’t go as fast and hard as you would’ve liked, too tired from having cum twice already, but it was a nice change of pace. it was nice to get to fuck ej slow and deep, to really feel all of him.

eventually, he started raising his hips, fucking up into you to help you. it was perfect, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging out long moans and whimpers of ej’s name.

he found your hand and held it, squeezing it every now and then again when he hit that spot inside of you.

your bodies lazily melded together, a fluid motion. ej looked utterly delicious under you, red cheeks and swollen lips and messy hair.

and it seemed that nicholas had been thinking the same thing, as he suddenly leaned down and connected his lips to ej’s once again.

“fuck,” you whispered, watching ej’s eyes close and immediately melt into the kiss.

their kiss was hungrier than the first one, more urgent. nicholas held the side of ej’s face, digging his painted fingernails into his hair. ej moaned into his mouth, parting his lips slightly to allow nicholas’s tongue.

you could feel yourself getting closer and closer watching them make out, heat pooling in your stomach.

nicholas trailed his hand to ej’s neck and down his abdomen, scraping his nails along his abs, which caused ej to shudder. he gripped nicholas’s hair, their tongue intertwined.

at that point, you were fully convinced that they’d done this before today.

nicholas pulled apart first, turning his neck to look over around his shoulder at you. he smirked at the shock and desperation on your face.

“look at her,” he snickered. “you close, baby?”

all you could do was nod your head rapidly, too far gone to even think about speaking.

“what about you?” nicholas asked, turning his attention back to ej. “are you gonna cum?”

“y-yeah,” ej sputtered. “fuck, i’m so close. oh my god.”

nicholas watched with eagerness. both of you were about to cum and he was going to get to witness it.

you were barely moving anymore, but just sitting on top of ej while he humped his hips up into you. somehow, that was just enough to push you over the edge.

“ej!” you yelped. “‘m cumming.”

ej watched you fall onto his chest, clenching around him so tight he could barely move. he held you close, quickening his pace until he, too, finally was pushed over the edge.

his entire body tensed as he dumped his load deep inside you, balls tightening as he let go. his grip on you was tight, and you only knew he was finished when he finally loosened his arms around you.

you rolled off of him, the three of you laying side by side in your bed. you were all drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted.

then as you looked to your left, then your right, the realization caught up to you. you just slept with your two best friends. at the same time.

what the hell were you supposed to do now?

a/n: ok so what if i wrote this to help myself cope with a breakup im going through??? SO WHAT!!!!

405 notes · View notes

guliexe · 30 days ago

Text

━━━EXTRA HELP 18+

Hirota Riki/Maki x Tutor!Female!Reader — University AU

.ᐟwarnings/tags: enemies to lovers (kinda), slow burn, angst, tutor!reader, dom!maki, reader is kinda dramatic, bad boy!maki, texting, making out, dry humping, praising, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, dacryphilia, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, finger sucking, bulge kink kinda, multiple orgasms

♡ you agreed to tutor the campus bad boy—now you're tangled in his sheets, and maybe his heart too.

.ᐟwc: 12.5k (no proofread)

There were a few things everyone on campus knew about Riki. First, he didn’t care about school. Second, he didn’t care about girls. And third, he definitely didn’t care about you. He was the kind of guy who never showed up to lectures but still had his name shouted across the quad. The kind of guy who could be seen with a new girl every weekend, yet never seemed attached to any of them. You’d catch glimpses of him outside the dorms, leaning against his black car, hands in his pockets, always smirking at something like he was in on a secret the rest of the world had missed. His reputation wasn’t subtle either. Everyone knew he smoked and partied. Everyone knew he fucked. And everyone knew he didn’t try—at anything. Especially not uni. You, on the other hand, were practically invisible compared to him. You were a normal student. Smart, yeah—but not some overachiever robot. You had friends, you went out every now and then. But you didn’t play around when it came to school. You worked hard for your grades. You showed up and gave a shit.

The only time Riki ever acknowledged you was to throw a lazy smirk your way during a lecture—usually after interrupting the class with some half-assed question or sarcastic comment. You didn’t know if he did it to get under your skin, or if he even knew who you were. Either way, it worked. You hated him. His cockiness, his stupid pretty face, the way he acted like the world owed him something. You hated the way he stretched his legs out under the desk, the way he always leaned back in his chair just enough to make you pray it’d finally tip over. You hated how his voice always carried—low, rough, lazy—like nothing ever really demanded his full attention. But most of all, you hated how aware of him you’d become. It wasn’t on purpose. You didn’t mean to notice the way his sleeves were always pushed up just enough to show the veins in his arms, or how he had a habit of playing with his hair when he was bored. It didn’t matter. You noticed anyway. Just like you noticed the way girls always giggled when he passed, how they looked at him like he was something dangerous they wanted to touch anyway. And he let them. All of them. Because Riki didn’t care about anyone.

Which is why it made absolutely no sense when your professor sat you down after class and said, with complete seriousness,“I’m assigning you as Riki’s tutor.” You blinked. “Wait—what?” “He’s failing. If he doesn’t pass the next exam, he’ll be dropped from the course.” You stared. “And you think I’m going to save him?” “I think you’re capable. You’re sharp, patient, and you don’t fall for bullshit. He might actually learn something.” You huffed. “He doesn’t even bring a pen to class.” “Then bring two.”And just like that, you were stuck. After what your professor told you, you knew better. If Riki was gonna pass anything, he needed more than a miracle, he needed someone to drag his lazy ass to a table and force information into his head. And apparently, that someone was you. So after your last class, you went looking for him. You heard loud laughter coming from behind the law building—that kind of laughter, the kind that usually surrounded him like secondhand smoke. You followed the sound, and sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall with a few of his friends, half a joint in between his fingers, wearing a loose hoodie, baggy jeans sagging, like he hadn’t just missed another full day of lectures. He was mid-convo when he spotted you walking up, and his smile deepened. “Well, well,” he drawled. “Didn’t think I was on your hunt list.” You ignored the chorus of curious glances from his friends and came to a stop in front of him, arms crossed.

“We need to talk,” you said. “Sounds serious.” He didn’t move, just tilted his head and looked you up and down like you were something unexpected. “Should I be scared?” “Only if you like failing.” That made his smirk twitch. “Cute.” You sighed. “Professor told me to tutor you.” “Cool.” He shoved his hands in his hoodie. “Tell her thanks, but no thanks.” “She said you’re going to fail if you don’t.” “And?” “And,” you said sharply, “she’s giving you one chance. Me. You either take it or get dropped from the class.” He stared at you for a second, then leaned off the wall just enough to step closer. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You came here to give me homework?” he says, taking a hit of his joint. “I came because I actually care about this class. Unlike you. And i had no other choice.” “Aw,” he cooed. “You care about me.” You gave him a look so flat it could kill. “This isn’t a joke.” “No, but you are,” he said with a little grin. “You think I’m gonna suddenly turn into a straight-A student because some stupid girl from the front row gives me lessons?”

You froze. Your jaw tightened as his words sank in, slow and sour. Stupid girl. The phrase echoed in your head like it was meant to bruise. You didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at him, arms crossed tighter, a bitter fire creeping up your spine. Riki took another drag, watching you through the smoke. Then you spoke. “Say that again,” you said quietly. Not weak quiet—sharp quiet. Dangerous quiet even. “Call me stupid one more time.” His smirk faltered. Just a little. “I didn’t mean it like—” “Yes, you did,” you snapped. “You meant it exactly like that. Because it’s easier to act like this doesn’t matter than admit you’re scared you’ll fail.” His brows lifted slightly. “Scared?” “You think no one notices, but we all do. You never stay in one place. You never try. You’re so busy pretending nothing matters just in case something actually does.” Riki blinked. You stepped forward, chin lifted. “So go ahead. Keep acting like you’re too cool to care. But don’t waste my time if you’re not going to show up.” There was silence. His friends were watching now, but you didn’t even glance at them. Your eyes were locked on him, and for once, Riki didn’t have a snarky comeback. He just stared at you like you’d taken all the wind out of him. He dropped his joint and stepped on it. “Damn,” he muttered, glancing away. “You’ve got a mouth on you.” You turned to go. “Forget it. I’ll tell professor you refused.”But before you could take another step, his voice stopped you. “Library,” he said. You turned your head just enough to see him scratch the back of his neck, eyes half-lidded. “I’ll be there.” You narrowed your eyes. “When?” “Tuesday,” he muttered. “Four.” You didn’t smile. Didn’t thank him. You just nodded once, “Don’t be late.” Riki rolled his eyes. “Can’t wait.” And as you walked away, you didn’t look back, though if you had, you might’ve seen the way he watched you go. Like you weren’t stupid at all. Like you were the first person who’d ever actually told him the truth.

Tuesday came, and he was twelve minutes late. You’d already found a spot in the far corner of the library, tucked away behind tall shelves and low lighting, where you could actually focus without distractions. Except he was the distraction. And he wasn’t even here yet. You were just about to give up and text your professor when you heard it—The soft creak of shoes and the low scrape of a chair being pulled out behind you. “Relax, I’m here.” You turned. There he was, backpack slung over one shoulder, black tank top, tousled hair falling messily into his eyes. He dropped into the seat across from you, one leg sprawled out under the table, arms resting lazily on either side. He looked…good. And you hated that you noticed. “You’re late,” you said, crossing your arms. He gave a slow shrug. “Only by a little.” “Twelve minutes is not ‘a little.’ “Wasn’t gonna show at all, honestly,” he muttered, pulling out a notebook that looked barely touched. “Consider this progress.” You bit back a comment and opened your textbook instead. “Fine. We’ll start with the basics. What do you remember from last lecture?” Riki blinked at you. “…We had a lecture?” You inhaled sharply. “Okay. Great. Starting from zero.” He smirked at your expression, leaning forward slightly. “You’re kinda cute when you’re stressed.” You didn’t dignify that with a response, just shoved the textbook closer to him. “Read this. Then answer the first two questions.”

He groaned but leaned in anyway, eyes skimming the text like it personally offended him. You watched him from the corner of your eye—how he chewed his bottom lip when he concentrated, how his fingers tapped idly against the table. After a few minutes, he spoke. “This is so boring,” he said. “How do you not fall asleep doing this?” You sighed. “Because I care about my grades. And my future.” He leaned back again, chair creaking. “Mm. Nerd.” “Degenerate.” He grinned at that. “Big words, tutor girl.” You rolled your eyes, but your mouth twitched anyway. Despite everything, his attitude, his laziness, he was at least here. And somehow, that was already more than you expected. You tried to focus. Tried to walk him through the basic concepts, tried to be patient when he interrupted with sarcastic questions or dramatic sighs. But as time passed, something shifted. He started paying attention—really paying attention. His posture changed, and his jokes softened. Every once in a while, he’d ask a real question. And you’d answer. And for a second, it almost felt normal. Like he wasn’t the guy you used to hate and glare at across the classroom.

You were just mid-sentence, pointing out something in the textbook, when you realized how close he’d leaned in—his shoulder brushing yours ever so lightly, his scent suddenly very real. Warm. Clean, with a hint of something smoky underneath. You cleared your throat, “…Anyway, that’s why the theory matters.” “Mhm,” he murmured. But he wasn’t looking at the page anymore. He was looking at you. You tried to ignore it—his eyes on you. Tried to focus on the text, on the notes you’d scribbled in the margins earlier, but it was hard to concentrate with Riki that close. His knee brushed yours under the table and neither of you moved. Not right away. “You’re not as boring as I thought,” he said suddenly. You raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?” “Not a compliment.” But he was smiling, a little softer than usual. You rolled your eyes again, looking down at the book. “Well, you’re exactly as frustrating as I thought.” “Hot and frustrating,” he said, leaning back just enough to throw you a cocky grin. Your face heated before you could stop it. “Focus.” “I am focused.” You gave him a flat look. “Fine.” He leaned in again, this time closer than before, the air between you thinning by the second. “But you have to admit something.” You blinked. “What?” “That you think I’m hot.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “I literally never said that.” “You didn’t have to,” he said, smug. “You’re blushing.” “I’m not—” you fight back. “You are.” You looked down, closing the book in frustration. “This is impossible.” “Relax,” he said, voice lower now, amused. “I’m just messing with you.” But there was something in his eyes. Something that made your stomach twist a little. You stood up quickly, grabbing your pen and textbook, stuffing them back into your bag with a little too much force. “I think we’re done for today,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “You should go over that again on your own.” “Wait, what?” he sat up straighter. “Why—” “I’ll email you the practice sheet later.” You turned too fast, one hand still shoving your notebook into the bag—so fast you didn’t see the chair leg sticking out from the side of the table, or the way your foot caught on it. Your balance slipped before you could catch yourself. “Shit—!” A pair of hands grabbed your waist instantly, pulling you forward with a sudden jolt of strength, and the next thing you knew, your palms were planted on the table, on either side of him. He’d caught you. Except now, he was half-seated on the edge of the table, and you were leaning over him—face inches from his, chest almost pressed to his, breath caught in your throat. You froze completely.

So did he. One of his hands was still on your waist. The other had found the small of your back, fingers curled into the fabric of your sweater like he’d done it without thinking. His mouth was slightly parted, and up close, you could see everything—his frowned brows, the slow rise of his chest under his hoodie, the flicker of something behind his eyes that made your skin burn. “You good?” he asked quietly. You nodded. You thought you nodded. It was hard to tell with the way your heart was pounding in your ears. “Didn’t know you wanted me that bad,” he said, the smirk returning. You exhaled a sharp breath and pushed yourself off him fast, standing up straight, smoothing your hair back like that somehow made things less awkward. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, flustered. But he didn’t move. He just stayed there, eyes still on you, lips curving up at the edges like he was holding back something else. “You always this clumsy?” he asked. “Shut up Maus.” He chuckled warmly and leaned back against the table like he hadn’t just caught you in the most intimate, accidental moment of your life. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked, like none of it had happened. You grabbed your bag and turned away, hoping he couldn’t see the heat rising in your cheeks. “We’ll see.”

You didn’t even want to go, but your friends insisted. Said you’d been cooped up too long with your nose in textbooks. That you needed to “unclench” for one night. That you were too pretty to waste another Friday night at home. So here you were, packed into someone’s dimly lit house, music thumping through the floorboards, cheap liquor in your cup, and the smell of weed floating through the halls. You weren’t even three steps in before you saw him. Riki. He was leaning back against the kitchen island like he owned the place, black denim slung low on his hips, showing the band of his boxers, silver earring catching the light. A red Solo cup dangled lazily from his fingers as he laughed at something the girl next to him said. She was blonde, pretty, definitely more his type than you. She said something, and he smirked, the kind of smirk that tugged at one corner of his mouth and made your stomach flip. You told yourself not to look. You told yourself not to care. But it was hard not to notice the way her hand was already on his arm. Or the way she was leaning in like she knew he’d let her. Your chest tightened. “C’mon,” your friend tugged your sleeve. “Let’s get drinks.” You followed numbly, the burn of jealousy hot in your throat. You just needed to get away from that view. Grab a drink, breathe, pretend Riki wasn’t the only thing on your mind even here, in a room full of people you didn’t know or like. You reached the kitchen just as that same girl turned, laughing at something he said, and crashed straight into you.

Cold, sticky liquid splashed across your chest and soaked into your top. The drink hit your skin with a sudden shock. You gasped, stumbling back as your friend cursed under her breath. “Oh my god,” the girl said, blinking wide eyes at you. “I didn’t see you. Shit, I’m—” She cut off when she recognized you. Her lips twitched, like she almost smiled. Of course she knew who you were. The nerd. The tutor. The girl Riki had to be paired with. You could see it all click behind her eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” she said again, too casual. “Hope that wasn’t, like… expensive.” You stood there frozen, drenched and embarrassed, your cup long gone and your pride somewhere under the sink. Riki finally turned around, eyes narrowing the second he saw you. You weren’t sure what expression crossed your face, but whatever it was, his changed too. The lazy smirk was gone. He looked almost…irritated. “You good?” he asked, directing it at you but stepping away from her. You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Your friend was already trying to dab your shirt dry with a crumpled napkin, but the damage was done—the fabric clung to your chest, translucent in the worst places. “I need to go change,” you mumbled.“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” Riki said, already moving to lead the way. You hesitated, then followed. You didn’t miss the way the other girl watched him go, arms crossed tight.

The hallway was quieter than you’d expected. The bass from the party thudded faintly below, muffled by the walls, and the air up here felt cooler, calmer. You followed a few steps behind Riki, arms crossed over your chest, trying not to focus on the way your shirt clung to your skin. He stopped at the end of the hall, tapping the door beside him. “You can clean up here.” You reached for the handle, but he didn’t step away—just looked down at you, quiet. His eyes flicked briefly to your shirt, then back to your face, unreadable. “You good?” he asked, voice low. You nodded, too fast. “Yeah. Just cold.” He blinked slowly, like he didn’t believe you but wasn’t going to say it. Then he pulled his hoodie off over his head—some black oversized thing with faint white lettering on the chest—and held it out. You hesitated. “You don’t have to—” “Just take it,” he said.

You took it. His fingers brushed yours for a second, and your stomach flipped. You ducked into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind you before facing the mirror. The damage was worse than you thought. Pink drink soaked through your top and dried in a sticky pattern across your chest. Your bra showed clearly through the fabric, and your skin was flushed, not just from embarrassment, but…something else. Something about the way Riki had looked at you downstairs. The way his eyes narrowed when that girl leaned in. The way he didn’t say anything—but still didn’t look away from you either. You exhaled, peeled off your shirt, and pulled his hoodie over your head. It was soft, loose, and smelled faintly like him—cologne and laundry detergent. Then, a knock. “Still okay in there?” You cracked the door open and peeked out. He was still there, leaning against the opposite wall with his hands in his pockets. His eyes slid over you slowly, landing on the hoodie. “Looks better on you.” You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “You’re so annoying.” He tilted his head.

“You say that a lot.” “That’s because it’s always true.” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer. “Mm.” His eyes flicked down to where the sleeves hung past your hands. “You kinda look cute like that though.” You froze. The hallway suddenly felt too warm. “I—I just didn’t want to walk around soaked, that’s all.” “Didn’t say you did.”His voice was different now, lower, like he was playing with you. Teasing, but not in a way that begged for a fight. Just enough to make you want to look away. You didn’t, though. You kept your chin up, even as your heart pounded. Then he stepped even closer, slightly closing the door. There was barely any space between you now. You could feel the warmth of him, see the little mole on his cheek, the slight curve of his mouth like he was holding something back. “You’re quieter when you’re embarrassed,” he said softly. “I’m not embarrassed.” “You keep lying to me.” You huffed and tried to look away, but his hand came up to brush your jaw, guiding your gaze back to him. Your breath caught. He didn’t say anything else. Just looked at you for a moment too long, eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. It was like something cracked in the air. Like gravity shifted and pulled the two of you closer. Then— Knock knock knock. “Hey! You in there?” your friend’s voice. “Everything okay?” You both jumped slightly. Riki blinked, then let out a quiet breath and took a step back. You swallowed hard. Your heart still hadn’t settled. “I’m fine,” you called out. Your friend’s voice faded as she wandered off, muttering something about looking for the snacks. Riki glanced at you, then gave a soft laugh under his breath—barely audible. “What?” you asked. He shook his head. “Nothing.” You narrowed your eyes. “You think this is funny?” “No,” he said, turning to head back toward the stairs. “I think you’re cute when you’re shy.” You stood frozen for a second before following him. You didn’t know what that almost-kiss was. Or if he even meant it to happen.

The library was quiet in that particular way it always was around exam season. Clicks of keyboards, the occasional squeak of a chair, a cough far off in the distance—nothing loud enough to cut through the silence fully. You walked in with your bag slung over your shoulder, already regretting agreeing to meet so late in the day. The low golden light pouring in through the windows made everything feel softer, more intimate. And he was already there. Riki sat at one of the corner tables, sprawled out like always, one arm resting lazily over the back of the chair, the other flipping through a worn notebook. His hoodie sleeves were pushed to his forearms, earbuds on, and he looked up just as you spotted him. Your heart jumped embarrassingly fast. You looked away just as quickly, trying to act like you hadn’t seen him, hadn’t noticed the way his gaze flicked down briefly before returning to your face. You approached the table, setting your bag down carefully, avoiding his eyes. “You’re late,” he said, voice low, teasing but quiet enough not to draw attention. You sat down, pulling out your notes. “By like three minutes.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Three minutes too long.” You didn’t answer. You couldn’t—not without sounding weird. Not without blushing, and unfortunately, that was already happening anyway. You could feel the heat climbing up your neck, and you kept your eyes glued to your notes, pretending to find something very important on the page. Riki didn’t say anything at first. You could feel him watching you, and it made every movement harder, flipping pages, uncapping your pen, sitting still.

“So,” he finally said, dragging the word out a little. “You’re gonna look at me today, or is this gonna be a tutoring session where you just talk to your highlighter?” You inhaled sharply. “I’m looking at you right now.” You weren’t. He leaned closer over the table, just slightly—just enough for his voice to lower even more. “You’re not,” he murmured. “You haven’t looked at me since Saturday.” You gripped your pen tighter. “I’ve been busy.” His voice was calm. “You’ve been nervous.” That made your eyes snap to his—huge mistake. Because when you finally looked at him, everything you’d been trying to suppress came rushing back. The party. His voice in the hallway. The hoodie. His fingers brushing your face like he’d done it a thousand times. And how close he’d gotten, how close you both were. You blinked and looked away again, this time staring at the desk. “See?” he said, like he’d just won a bet. You crossed your arms. “Can we just study?” A pause. Then a soft chuckle. “Sure,” he said. “Go ahead.” You continued explaining formulas you’d explained before, stumbling through examples you knew by heart. You could feel your ears burning. Every time you tried to focus, you felt his eyes on you. Not in a harsh way—just steady, present, he was listening to more than just your words.

Somewhere between chapter five and question eight, the space between you and Riki had gotten… smaller. Not suddenly. Slowly, gradually. At first, you’d sat across from him, the wide wooden table serving as a comfortable barrier. But then he’d leaned in to point something out in your notes, and you’d shifted a little closer so you could see better, and then somehow—without really realizing it—you were sitting side by side. Close enough to feel the heat off his arm. Close enough that when you leaned in to write something, your knees almost touched. You tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on the numbers, the words, anything but the way your body felt like it was betraying you. Every time he shifted or breathed, you flinched just slightly, like your whole system was on edge. He, of course, looked completely relaxed. Riki leaned back lazily in the chair, hoodie rumpled, one leg stretched out beneath the table. He was listening, sure, but mostly watching. And it didn’t help that every time you stumbled over a word or lost your place mid-sentence, he smirked like he knew exactly why. “You’re better at this than me,” he murmured at one point, tapping your notebook. “But you still sound nervous.” “I’m not nervous,” you said quickly.

He raised a brow. “No?” “No,” you insisted, not looking up. He didn’t press. He didn’t have to. Because a few minutes later, it happened. Your hands had both been resting on the desk for a while—yours still, careful, his loose and spread out like he had no idea what personal space meant. Little by little, as the session stretched on, the distance between your hands started to shrink. Neither of you moved them on purpose, but still, closer…closer… until your pinkies brushed. You barely breathed. And then, very softly, he let his pinky drift back over yours. Just a whisper of a touch. He didn’t look down, didn’t say anything. Just started brushing his finger along the side of yours in slow, lazy strokes. Like it was nothing. You sat completely still, the air suddenly too warm and too thin all at once. You could feel it—his finger, featherlight, brushing against you again and again. And you could feel his eyes on you too, even if you didn’t dare look. Your heart thudded in your ears. “Riki,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head slightly, waiting. You blinked down at your notes. Then back at your hand. You were so warm you could feel your pulse in your fingertips. “Um,” you said quickly, standing up a little too fast. “Okay—that’s it for today. You did good.” He blinked, surprised. “That’s it?” “Yep.” You were already gathering your stuff, heart in your throat. “We’re done.” “Thought we had twenty more minutes.”

You shrugged, trying not to let your voice crack. “Bonus points for finishing early.” Riki didn’t move. Just watched you with that slight smile, soft and unreadable. “…You sure?” You zipped up your bag, cheeks on fire. “Mhm.” You could feel his eyes following you as you adjusted the strap on your bag, willing your hands not to shake. You hadn’t meant to end the session that abruptly, but the second his finger touched yours, you’d short-circuited. You needed air. Distance. Something. “Let me walk you home,” he said suddenly. You looked up. “What?” Riki stood slowly, slinging his bag over his shoulde, “It’s late. I don’t like the idea of you walking alone.” “I—I live like five minutes from here,” you said, voice catching in your throat. “So I’ll walk for five minutes,” he replied easily, already heading toward the library exit. You didn’t know how to argue with that. Not when he held the door for you without another word, stepping into the cool night air like it was completely normal for him to be doing this. The walk was quiet at first. The world around you was still, humming softly with distant streetlights and the sound of your shoes on pavement. He walked close, not quite touching, but near enough to make you hyper-aware of every step, every breath. “I thought I made you nervous,” he said after a beat. You glanced at him. “You do.” His mouth twitched. “Then why’d you let me walk you home?” You hesitated. “Because you insisted.” That made him laugh quietly, under his breath. “Right.” A moment passed. You reached your building, the familiar sight of the front steps making your stomach flip. “Well,” you said, slowing down. “Thanks for, um—”

“You always end things before I’m ready,” Riki said, cutting in. His voice was low, not teasing exactly—just honest. “In the library. Just now.” Your breath caught. “I didn’t mean to.” He stepped in front of you, just a little. Blocking your way, gently. His eyes found yours, and this time, you couldn’t look away. You could feel it—the same current that had been building since the party, since the near-kiss, since today in the library when his pinky brushed yours and it felt like your whole body forgot how to function.

The next thing you knew, he was stepping forward—slow, like he was giving you time to stop him—and then his hand brushed yours again, gently. His fingers slipped between yours, warm and steady. You froze. And then, slowly, you looked up at him. He was closer now, so close you could see the shadow of his lashes, so close you could smell him. His thumb moved, brushing across your knuckles, barely there. “Don’t run again,” he said, quietly. Your breath caught. “I’m not—” But before you could finish, he leaned down and kissed you. Soft. Warm. His lips pressed to yours like he’d been thinking about it for days—like he’d been holding it back all this time, waiting for the right moment, the right breath, the right look. It wasn’t rushed nor messy. Just his mouth on yours, tender and certain, like he already knew you’d kiss him back, and you did. Your fingers curled into his hoodie. You tilted your chin just slightly. The second your lips moved against his, he sighed, soft and low, and kissed you deeper. Still gentle, but slower now, hungrier. His other hand came up to your waist, not pulling, just there, grounding you while the world tipped sideways. When you finally pulled away, your face was hot. Your whole body was hot. You blinked up at him, breath shaky, lips tingling. He stared at you for a long second, thumb still brushing your waist. “Now you can go.” You wanted to say something. But all that came out was a tiny, flustered sound that made him grin—soft and smug and barely there. You slipped out of his reach, shy all over again. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, pretty.” he said, still watching you. And you were pretty sure you floated all the way to your door. The door clicked softly behind you, but you didn’t move. You just stood there in the quiet of your apartment, blinking into the dark like your brain hadn’t caught up to the fact that yes—he kissed you. For real, this time. Not almost. Not nearly. He kissed you and it didn’t feel like a one-time thing. It felt like a beginning. Your fingers came up to touch your lips. Still warm. You didn’t know how long you stood there before you finally moved, slipping out of your shoes, bag sliding off your shoulder as you made your way toward your room on shaky legs. The silence was deafening now, but your heart was still pounding—like it didn’t want to forget the feel of his mouth on yours. Or the way he looked at you after, like he was proud of himself for getting under your skin. You got ready slowly, almost on autopilot. Changed into a tank top and sleep shorts, washed your face and lied in bed.

Riki

u home safe?

♡

You

yeah :)

it was nice tonight

♡

Riki

yeah

i wanna kiss u again

♡

You

me too :(

wanna see u

can i tutor u tmr?

♡

Riki

yes bby

i’ll see u tmr

have a gn <3

♡

You

goodnight riki :)

You’re five minutes early. The wind bites at your cheeks as you walk toward the library steps, hugging your jacket tighter. You check your phone, scrolling to Riki’s last message—“meet u outside <3”—sent fifteen minutes ago. Your heart’s light. You didn’t even bother to hide the smile on your face the whole way here.But then you look up, and freeze. He’s standing by the stone wall near the entrance, just a few steps away. You see his hoodie, the slight slouch in his posture—familiar and stupidly comforting. But he’s facing someone. A girl. Her hands are on his shoulders. And before you can fully process what’s happening—she leans in and kisses him. And Riki doesn’t push her away. Not right away. Not fast enough. Not before your stomach drops. You don’t realize you’ve made a sound until Riki turns his head sharply, his eyes locking with yours. It takes a split second. Your feet move before your brain does. You turn around and bolt. Down the steps, past the trees, across the yard. Your throat is tight. You hate that your eyes sting already. You blink hard, trying not to cry in the middle of campus like an idiot. “Wait—Y/N!!” His voice slices through the air, panicked, but you ignore it. You keep walking, fast, arms wrapped around yourself like they might hold your chest together. But then you hear it again, closer this time—“Stop—please, wait—” His fingers close around your wrist, gentle but firm. “Y/N, wait—just let me—” You yank your arm away like it burns. He flinches. Your voice comes out thin and raw. “Don’t.” He freezes in front of you, breathing hard, eyes wide. “It wasn’t what it looked like.” You laugh. It sounds broken, bitter. “Right.” “She kissed me,” he says quickly. “I didn’t—she just—” “It’s fine.” You cut him off, voice sharp. Your hands are trembling, and you shove them into your pockets so he doesn’t see. “We weren’t anything anyway.” Riki blinks.

Like he didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth. Like he can’t quite believe you said it. You swallow hard, your throat tight. “You should go back to her.” His face falls. He actually looks hurt. “Don’t say that.” You step back. “Why not? She obviously wants you. You let her kiss you. Maybe she’s more your type.” Riki shakes his head, jaw clenched. “You don’t get it.” “No, I don’t,” you snap. “And I don’t think I want to anymore.” You don’t wait to see the way his expression shatters. You turn and walk off again, fast, ignoring his voice behind you, ignoring the way your chest feels like it might crack open. You just need to be alone before the tears fall for real. You make it home before the tears really start. But once the door shuts behind you, it’s over. You sink down to the floor, your bag still slung over your shoulder, and bury your face in your hands. God. You were so stupid. You knew what kind of guy he was. Riki—the bad boy, the campus heartbreaker, the one who didn’t give a damn about anyone. He skipped class, flirted for fun, kissed girls at parties and it meant nothing. So why did it feel like he meant it with you? Why did it feel real? You curl up on your bed a while later, your throat raw from crying, your pillow damp. Your phone lights up every few minutes—his name over and over.

Riki

calling…

missed call (8)

missed call (9)

missed call (10)

You ignore every one. Until you can’t anymore. The eleventh time, you finally press accept. You hold the phone up to your ear, but you don’t say anything right away. There’s silence. Then, with your voice hoarse and unsteady, barely more than a whisper, “…what do you want?” There’s a beat of silence on the other end. Then a low, broken breath. “Fuck—baby,” Riki says, his voice wrecked. “Please don’t hang up.” You bite your lip hard, trying not to let the tears start again. Your voice shakes anyway.“Why are you calling me?” you whisper. “Didn’t get enough with her?” “No,” he snaps, immediate. Desperate. “It wasn’t like that. She kissed me—I didn’t—I didn’t kiss her back. I pushed her off. I swear to god, baby.” You close your eyes, heart pounding painfully. “I saw you.” “And I saw you walk away with tears in your eyes, and it fucking killed me.” His voice cracks slightly. “I didn’t even get to explain. I—I never wanted her. I only wanted you.” You’re silent. Your breathing’s uneven, and your throat aches. “I know what it looked like,” he says quietly, “but you have to believe me. You’re the only one I’ve been thinking about since that first day. You—fuck, baby, I’m so sorry. I’d never do that to you. Never.” Your fingers curl around the edge of your blanket. “…you don’t get to call me baby right now,” you whisper, trying to sound angry—but it comes out weak. Wounded. Riki breathes in, like he’s trying to steady himself. “Okay. Okay, I won’t. Just…let me talk to you. Please.”

There’s a long pause. You finally speak again, small and broken, “I thought you actually liked me.” “I do.” His voice rises, full of emotion now. “I do like you. You think I’m lying? You think I’d show up to every tutoring session, text you every night, call you ten times just to hurt you? I didn’t even want anyone else to look at me once I had you.” “…then why did she kiss you?” “I don’t know. I don’t care. I was waiting for you.” Another tear slips down your cheek. You press your lips together. “…I need to go.” “No—wait. Please.” His voice is rough. “Don’t hang up. I’ll come over. Just let me see you. Let me explain everything. I’ll wait outside if I have to. Just—don’t shut me out.” You’re quiet. Your heart hurts too much to answer. “…can I come?” he asks again, softer this time. “Just to talk. Please.” You sniffle, wiping your cheek. Your chest aches, your throat thick. “…Fine,” you whisper. “Just to talk.” You can practically hear the relief rush out of him through the phone. “Okay. I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten.” You hang up before you can second guess it.

It’s quiet when you unlock the door for him. You don’t say anything. Just step aside and let him in, eyes puffy and downcast. Riki steps in slowly, eyes locked on you like you might disappear. His expression is tense— jaw tight, hair messier than usual, like he’s been running his hands through it nonstop. There’s something panicked in his eyes, but soft, too—like he’s afraid to break you any further. “Hey,” he says, voice low. You step back and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Talk, Riki.” He swallows and nods. “I didn’t want her to kiss me. I swear.” His voice is quiet, but every word is urgent. “I was waiting for you. I was looking for you. And then she—she just came up out of nowhere and I was shocked. I pushed her off right away. I told her I wasn’t interested. I only wanted you.” You shake your head, looking away. “Why would she even think she could do that?” “I don’t know. I don’t talk to her. She just… she saw me waiting and came over. I swear on everything, I never touched her.” Your bottom lip trembles. Riki steps closer, but not too close. “You can be mad,” he murmurs. “I’ll take it. I’ll take anything. Just—don’t think I didn’t mean everything I said to you. Because I did. Every text. Every time I called you baby. Every time I kissed you. It was all real.” You blink fast, eyes blurring again. “I thought I was just another girl to you,” you whisper. “I thought you were just…playing with me.” His face breaks, jaw clenched like he’s in pain. “You’re not just another girl. Don’t say that,” he breathes. “You’re the only one who ever made me nervous. The only one who made me feel like I actually wanted to try.” You stare at him, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. “…I liked you so much,” you whisper. “I still do.” Riki closes the distance now, carefully. Slowly. His hand lifts, tentative, before he touches your face, wiping your tears gently with the side of his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you.” You nod, lips trembling.

“I was scared,” you admit softly. “I didn’t think someone like you would ever really care about me.” His thumb grazes your cheekbone, and he exhales shakily. “I care about you more than I know what to do with,” he says. “I haven’t even been able to sleep since I saw you cry.” Your eyes finally meet his. His are red-rimmed now too. “Can I hold you?” he asks quietly. You nod. He steps forward and wraps his arms around you—firm and warm, like an anchor—and you bury your face into his chest. He kisses the top of your head. Again and again. And you cry, just a little, into his hoodie. You pull away slowly, your heart thudding so loud you’re sure he hears it, his hands still holding onto your waist like he’s afraid to let go. “…What are we, Riki?” you whisper. He exhales, eyes closed. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice low and honest. “But I know I want you. And only you.” You’re quiet for a moment, lips tugging into a small, shy smile. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you ask, soft and teasing, but there’s something hopeful under it. A little nervous. Like you’re still afraid he might not want that. His eyes open slowly, meeting yours like they never want to look away again. “Yeah,” he says, no hesitation. “You are.” He cups your face and pulls you in for a kiss. So soft and sweet, and you melt from his touch. Riki pulls back slightly, his lips curved in a soft smile but with a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “I should probably go…” he murmurs quietly. You blink, a little disappointed but trying not to show it. “Okay,” you say softly. He steps forward and wraps you in a warm hug, holding you just a moment longer than expected. Then he pulls back gently, brushing his lips against yours in a light, lingering kiss. ��I’ll see you soon,” he whispers. With one last look, he turns and leaves you standing there, the quiet night wrapping around you as you watch him go, and then you head inside, alone with your thoughts, ready to sleep.

The morning sun cast a soft glow over campus as you walked side by side with Riki, the usual hum of students around you fading into the background. The tension from last night’s conversation had shifted something between you, something subtle but undeniable. As you both made your way to class, your fingers brushed unintentionally at first. Then, just as casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Riki slipped his hand around yours, intertwining your fingers. Your heart stuttered, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let yourself fall into the warmth of his touch, feeling the silent declaration it carried. People passing by glanced at you, whispering or maybe just staring, but Riki didn’t care. His grip tightened ever so slightly. The confidence in his stride made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was serious about this—about you. When you settled into class, Riki sat beside you. Not the usual casual distance but close enough that your shoulders nearly brushed. The air between you was thick with unspoken words and nervous excitement. You caught his eyes once or twice, and each time there was a flicker of something soft, something more than the usual teasing smirk. After class, you headed to grab lunch together.

The cafeteria was buzzing with the midday rush, but the two of you found a quiet corner table. The conversation was easy—more natural than you expected. He asked about your plans, your classes, even cracked a few jokes that made you laugh despite yourself. Then, between bites, Riki’s expression shifted to something more serious, though still laced with that effortless charm. He nudged you with his elbow and smirked. “Hey, you never came to my dorm,” he said, voice low enough that only you could hear. You blinked, a little caught off guard. “Yeah? I guess you never invited me.” “Well,” he said, tightening his grip on your hand just a little, “how about we do tutoring there today? Change of scenery. I promise it’ll be better than the library.” You hesitated for a moment, the idea stirring something nervous but exciting inside you. But the way he looked at you like he wanted you there, made the decision easy. “Okay,” you said with a small smile, “I’m in.” Riki grinned, his fingers squeezing yours gently as you both stood up and left the cafeteria. The campus felt different today, like the world was shifting just for you two.

You stood outside Riki’s dorm, shifting on your feet as you knocked on the door, and it opened almost instantly. He leaned against the frame in a black tee and sweats, hair messy and a little damp from the shower. His gaze landed on you, and stayed. His eyes dragged down your body, slow and deliberate, to the way your tank top clung perfectly to your body and tits, and your soft thighs exposed for him to see from your shorts. He tilted his head slightly. “You wore this for tutoring?” he asked, voice low, licking his lips without even thinking. Your heart stuttered. You blinked. “This isn’t the library,” you said quietly, trying to sound casual. “I wanted to be comfortable.” But your voice faltered near the end, and your fingers instinctively pulled at the hem of your tank top—smoothing it, adjusting it, anything to distract from how hot his stare was making you feel. Riki grinned a little, like he noticed. He stepped aside, letting you in, but his gaze never left your back as you walked past him into his dorm. “You look good.” he murmured behind you, door clicking shut. His room was a little messy—papers scattered on his desk, a jacket thrown on the chair, sheets pulled halfway off his bed. It smelled like something warm and clean and distinctly him. You turned around slowly to face him, already feeling the tension creep up your spine. “We’re actually going to study this time, right?”

Riki smirked, moving closer and letting his fingers brush against yours as he took the textbook from your hands. “You’re the tutor,” he said softly, “but you’re the one distracting me.” You both sat side by side at the desk in his dorm, the soft scrape of your notebook sliding across the surface breaking the quiet.

Riki had his phone face-down for once, pen in hand, brows pulled together as he tried to focus while you explained the material to him. At first, he did try, really. He nodded when he understood, wrote a few things down, even asked a decent follow-up question. But after about ten minutes, you started to notice the shift. His eyes wandered. You were mid-sentence, pointing to a diagram in the textbook, when you caught him staring—not at the page, but at you. Your tank top had slipped slightly as you leaned forward, and his gaze dipped, slow and deliberate. He didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes trailed over the curve of your chest, down to your exposed thighs where your shorts had bunched up a little from how you were sitting. You shifted, subtly pulling your hem lower, but it didn’t matter. Riki licked his lips. Your voice faltered for a second. “Riki…” “Hm?” he looked up, completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just spent the last few seconds undressing you with his eyes. “You’re not listening.” “I am,” he murmured, lips twitching into a grin. “I’m just…multitasking.”You narrowed your eyes. “Multitasking?” “Yeah. Learning,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “And appreciating the view.” Your cheeks burned. “You’re such an ass.” He leaned back in his chair, still staring at you like he was starving. “You wore that to tutor me, and now you expect me to focus?” You crossed your arms, but the movement just made his gaze drop again—and linger.

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you muttered, defensive. He smiled, cocky. “Sure you didn’t.” You grabbed your pen again, trying to return to the material. “We’re not doing this.” But even as you flipped the page, you could feel the weight of his gaze—slow, heavy, like he was touching you without laying a finger on you. And when you dared to glance at him again, he was already leaning closer.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus on the page in front of you—desperately ignoring how close Riki had gotten. “Okay,” you started, voice a little shaky, “so if you look at this equation, the—” His hand slid onto your thigh. You froze. He was still looking at the book, acting completely casual as his fingers brushed over your skin slowly, warm and lazy through the soft fabric of your shorts. His touch was featherlight, almost teasing. You glanced at him, heart stuttering. “Riki…” “Keep going,” he said, voice low. “I’m listening.” But you could barely remember what you were supposed to say. You tried to explain again, stumbling over your words as his hand dragged just a little higher. Your breath hitched. “Y-You need to factor the—uh—the terms that—” “Am i making you nervous, baby?” he murmured, finally looking at you, his lips close to your ear. You tried to pull it together. “You need to focus.” He chuckled, eyes heavy with heat. “Don’t wanna.” Before you could protest again, he leaned in, pressing his lips softly to the side of your neck. You gasped—his hand inching higher, fingers drawing lazy circles over your inner thigh now. “Riki,” you whispered, your voice barely holding steady. “Hmm?” he mumbled against your skin, kissing just under your jaw now. “Thought you wanted to tutor me, baby.” You did. But not like this. Not when his touch made your brain melt and your heart beat out of rhythm.

Your mind blurred, your voice giving out in a breathy stutter as Riki’s lips ghosted over your skin, his fingers inching higher up your thigh. “Yes” you whispered, barely managing to meet his eyes. “This is supposed to be tutoring…” He looked at you slowly, like he already knew you were too far gone to stop him now. His hand slid from your thigh up to your waist, gripping you gently but firmly. “You’re not exactly stopping me.” You opened your mouth to argue, but the words never made it out—because he kissed you. Deep and unhurried, his mouth moved against yours like he’d been craving it all day. You whimpered softly against his lips, your hands clutching at the edge of the desk. He pulled you closer by the waist, tugging you effortlessly toward him until you were sliding off your chair and onto his lap. A surprised gasp escaped you, your hands bracing against his shoulders, your thighs straddling his as he settled you in place. Your heart was racing—every nerve lit up. “Riki…” you murmured, breathless, as he leaned up to kiss you again, slow and deep, like he was trying to make you forget everything but the way he tasted.

His hands slide up your thighs, slow and warm, while his mouth moves against yours like he can’t get enough. You’re straddling his lap, knees on either side of him, and you can feel how hard he is beneath you. His kiss deepens, tongue brushing yours, and when he finally pulls away to catch his breath, his lips don’t go far. They drag down your jaw, toward your neck. You gasp softly when he kisses just below your ear. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your skin. His hand slips under your tank top, just brushing along your waist—barely touching. “Is it me?” You don’t answer, just whimper softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He chuckles lowly against your throat, the sound smug and warm. His hand slides higher up your back, teasing the hem of your bra. His mouth finds a spot on your neck that makes your hips twitch—he groans. “You were so focused,” he says, kissing down your neck, “and now look at you.” You gasp as he grinds your hips down gently against him, slow and in control.

His mouth moves over yours slow and deep, his tongue coaxing soft whimpers from you between breaths. And then he pulls back just enough to look at you. His voice drops, low and serious, rough at the edges. “Want me to stop?” You’re already trembling a little, lips swollen from his kisses, breath shallow in your throat. But you don’t hesitate. You shake your head, soft and certain. “No,” you whisper. “Don’t stop.” He lets out a low groan, hands flexing around your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself, before dragging you into another hungry kiss. Your fingers wind into his hair, tugging gently, making him moan against your mouth. His hands slide up the backs of your thighs, underneath your shorts, pulling you closer until your hips press flush against his. You gasp into his mouth, and his fingers tighten on your waist. He starts guiding your hips slowly against him, making you grind right onto his hard-on through his sweats. “Just like that, baby,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your jaw. “You feel that?” Your cheeks burn. You nod, barely holding back the moan that threatens to slip out. You keep moving, grinding softly on him like instinct, heat curling low in your stomach with every roll of your hips. “So cute” he breathes, mouth dipping to slowly kiss your neck again. “You look so good on my lap, princess.”

Your hips roll harder on him now, the friction making your head spin. You whimper into his ear, breathless, and he curses under his breath as your hand slides between your bodies. You palm him over his sweats, slow and uncertain at first, your fingers trailing along the thick shape of him, teasing. His hips twitch up into your touch, jaw clenched as he watches you with fire in his eyes “Fuck, baby—” he groans, head falling back slightly. You feel the way he breathes harder, the way his thighs tense under yours, how his eyes go heavy-lidded every time you grind down just right. Then, with one last soft kiss to his lips, you pull back. Your cheeks are flushed, lips parted, and your voice is a little shaky when you whisper,“Can I…?” You glance down at his lap, then back up at him through your lashes. “I wanna… try.” Your hands slide down his chest as you slip from his lap, sinking onto your knees between his legs before you can second-guess it. The carpet is soft under your bare knees, your hands resting on his thighs, breath shallow. Riki stares at you, stunned. Eyes wide, lips parted. “Wait—” he says quickly, breath catching in his throat. “Are you sure, baby?” You nod, biting your lip. Your fingers toy with the waistband of his sweats, looking up at him with those big, desperate eyes that have always made him weak. “I want to,” you whisper, soft but certain. “wanna make you feel good.” He exhales shakily, like he’s trying to hold himself together, one hand running through his hair as he mutters, “Jesus, baby…you’re killing me.”

Your fingers tremble just slightly as you reach for the hem of your shirt. You pause for a second, nervous but determined, before tugging it up and over your head, baring yourself to him. Your cheeks burn the moment his eyes drop to your chest. The soft blue lace of your bra clings to your skin, delicate and pretty, and Riki looks like he’s about to lose it. His breath catches. “Baby…” he murmurs, voice suddenly lower, rougher. His eyes drag slowly over your figure like he’s trying to memorize the sight. “You wore that for me?” You nod shyly, glancing down, arms folding just a little in front of your body. You’re flustered, nervous, but you want him to like what he sees. You want this to be good for him, unforgettable.

“I just…I wanted to look good,” you admit softly, peeking up at him. “For you.” He leans forward immediately, grabbing your wrists gently and pulling your hands away from your body. “You look perfect,” he says, dead serious. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby.” Your stomach flutters wildly. Slowly, carefully, you bring your hands back down to his lap. You hook your fingers under the waistband of his sweats, heart pounding, and tug them down along with his boxers, just low enough to free him. He’s hard, big, leaking, and your lips part slightly at the sight of him. Riki watches your every move like he’s in a trance, his fingers twitching on his thighs like he’s trying so hard not to grab you. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, eyes searching yours. “You don’t have to do anything—” You nod quickly, still on your knees in front of him, lips brushing softly against his lower abdomen as you glance up at him through your lashes.

Your lips part just slightly as you lower yourself, your breath warm against his tip. You press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to it, delicate, teasing. Then you do it again, and again, letting your tongue flick out for the smallest kitten licks. Riki groans low in his throat, his hips twitching. “Fuck…” he breathes, eyes locked on you like you’re the most unreal thing he’s ever seen. His hand goes straight to your hair, fingers threading into it with a firm grip. “You’re such a tease, baby.” You let your lips wrap around him fully, just the tip, sucking softly, slow and sweet. His hand tightens in your hair, and you hear the shift in his breath—rougher, needier. “You look so good like this,” he mutters, his voice dark and low. “My little tutor girl taking my cock in her pretty mouth.” You whimper softly around him, cheeks flushed. You hollow your cheeks and take a little more, your tongue swirling around him, and his grip tightens just slightly. “Shit, baby—doing so good for me,” he groans, watching you bob your head just a little. “You like this? Like makin’ me feel good, hm?” You hum around him, eyes fluttering shut for a second before looking back up at him through your lashes—submissive, eager, needy for his praise. His other hand comes up, fingers gently cupping your jaw to guide your pace as he breathes hard, watching every slow movement of your lips. “You gonna take more for me, baby?” he asks, voice gravelly. “Gonna let me fuck that sweet mouth a little?” And the way he says it, low and filthy, makes your thighs clench together as you nod, obedient and breathless, letting him guide you deeper.

His grip in your hair tightens just slightly, and he watches with hooded eyes as you take more of him in. You feel the gentle pressure as he begins guiding your head, slowly at first, pushing you down, then letting you come up for air, only to press you back down again. “Just like that, baby,” he breathes, voice rough and low. Your lips stretch around him as he slowly builds a rhythm, hips barely moving, letting your mouth do the work, guided by his hands. You moan softly, the vibrations making him hiss through his teeth. Tears prick at your eyes from the effort, trailing down your cheeks as your jaw strains, your tongue flattening against the underside of his cock. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking what you can’t fit, trying to keep up with the pace he’s setting. “Fuck—look at you,” he groans, breath catching. “Crying on my cock like that. Letting me fuck your mouth.” His voice sends a pulse of heat through your entire body. His thumb wipes a tear off your cheek almost sweetly, his other hand never loosening from your hair. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice dark and full of heat. “Doing so good for me.” His hips stutter as your hand works him faster, your warm breath ghosting over his tip. “Fuck, baby—” he gasps, hips twitching forward as his cock throbs against your hand. “You’re gonna make me cum… shit—”

You look up at him with those big, glassy eyes, tongue out and waiting, so eager, so needy. “Holy fuck—” Riki growls, head tipping back. “You really want it, don’t you, baby?” You nod, whining softly as you stick your tongue out further, your other hand bracing against his thigh. That’s all it takes. With a low, guttural moan, he finishes—hot spurts painting your tongue, your lips, and spilling down onto your chest. He watches, completely wrecked, as you keep still for him, letting him make a mess of you. When it’s done, you slowly close your mouth and swallow with a soft gulp, then open up again and poke your tongue out to show him—empty now. His breath catches. “Fuck,” he mutters, eyes dark as he cups your jaw in his palm. “You swallowed all of it?” You nod shyly, cheeks flushed, tongue still out just a little as you blink up at him. He lets out a low, breathless laugh, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “My good fuckin’ girl,” he murmurs. “Look at you…” He leans down and kisses you—slow, filthy, and deep, tasting himself on your tongue. “It’s my turn to make you feel good now, yeah?” he whispers against your lips. You’re still catching your breath when he pulls you up gently, his hands firm on your waist as he helps you sit on the edge of the desk. Your legs dangle, a little shaky, but Riki steps between them, caging you in with his arms as he leans down to kiss you, slowly and hungrily. His hands slide up your sides, over the soft fabric of your bra, cupping your breasts as he groans into your mouth. “You’re unreal,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look down at you. “Bend over for me, baby.” You blink up at him, heart fluttering. “Here?” He just smirks, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You heard me.”

Your cheeks flush, but you nod, sliding off the desk slowly, turning around. You lean over it, bracing your hands flat on the surface, your breathing already unsteady. You feel his eyes on you, burning hot as you reach down and slowly start tugging your shorts and panties down together, baring yourself inch by inch. A soft sound leaves his throat behind you, low and rough. “Fuck…” You hear the rustle of his clothes behind you, his hands moving to gently push your legs further apart. His palms ghosts over your ass, then down your thighs, teasing. He leans down, lips brushing the back of your neck. “So cute, bent over my desk like that…” You gasp softly as you feel him bend down behind you, one hand sliding up your thigh, the other gently gripping your hip to keep you steady. Your bare core clenches at the thought of how close he is, how exposed you are. “Riki—” you whisper, voice shaky, head turning over your shoulder. “You’re…really close…” He hums, amused, lips brushing your inner thigh. “That’s the point, baby.” You bite your lip, face burning as you hide it in the crook of your elbow. It’s so intimate, his breath on your bare skin, his fingers teasing the softness of your inner thighs. He leaves sweet kisses on your ass and thighs, before bringing his fingers on your folds, making you whine. He moves them slowly, gathering your wetness, from your hole to your clit and you can’t help but moan. Then you feel it—his tongue. A soft, slow lick up your folds, warm and deliberate. You let out a whimper, legs trembling as your knees almost buckle. His grip tightens on your hips. “Stay still, princess.” he murmurs, low and commanding.

You nod, helplessly, barely able to breathe as he buries his face between your thighs. His tongue moves with devastating skill, licking, sucking, flicking against your clit until your thighs start to shake. You let out soft, desperate moans, biting into your forearm to stay quiet, but he hears them. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he mutters into your heat, tongue diving deeper. “This all mine now, yeah?” “Y-Yes,” you whimper, gripping the edge of the desk. “Riki…oh my god…”

He groans into you, clearly turned on by your reaction, and his hands squeeze your hips tighter as his tongue flicks again and again against your sensitive clit. His hand slides between your legs, and you gasp when you feel two fingers press against your entrance, slick and slow as they slide in deep. Your back arches, mouth falling open as a moan escapes. “R-Riki—” He groans, thumb coming up to press soft circles against your clit as his fingers curl inside you, stretching you open. “Fuck…so warm” he mutters, mouth hot on your inner thigh again. Your legs are shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. The combination of his fingers and mouth has your brain melting, every movement making you whimper, every moan just making him move rougher, deeper. “You gonna come on my fingers, baby?“ he murmurs, voice teasing now, cocky. You let out a broken moan, unsure if you can even speak, and that just makes him smirk. “Too dumb already?” he coos. “My smart little tutor girl can’t even think straight anymore.” He pumps his fingers a little faster, curling them just right, and you nearly collapse against the desk.

Your body tightens, every nerve on fire as his fingers work magic inside you. Warmth spreads fast, rushing through your core like wildfire. A broken moan escapes your lips, and you shudder, trembling against the desk as your release crashes over you—hard and sudden, stealing your breath away. Riki’s tongue flicks up eagerly, licking every drop of your juices with deliberate care, his eyes dark with hunger and satisfaction. When he pulls back, he wipes his mouth, voice low and rough.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He stands, towering over you, already hard again. His hands move quickly, slipping off his shirt, then lowering his sweats, letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud. Without breaking eye contact, he lifts you up with ease, carrying you toward the bed. He lays you down slowly, lips trailing over yours in a heated kiss that melts the space between you. His mouth moves down to your neck, leaving soft, urgent kisses that make your breath hitch. His hands roam boldly, cupping your breasts firmly, thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin. “Off.” he murmurs low and commanding. You fumble shyly but obey, sliding the straps down your arms until your bra is discarded. Almost immediately, he’s sucking on your bare skin, his mouth teasing and claiming your breasts, while his hips grind hard against your heat. The friction sends a jolt straight through you, making your body arch toward him, hungry for more. He trails his mouth over your breasts and collarbones, leaving dark, bruising hickeys that bloom deliciously against your skin. You reach down, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his abs, feeling the heat and strength beneath your touch. Then your hand slips lower, cupping the hard length pressing against his boxers. “Please, Riki,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “need you now.”

“Fuck..” He slowly lowers his boxers, freeing himself as his eyes never leave yours. His hand wraps around his thick length, pumping a slow, steady rhythm. He carefully spreads your legs further , his fingers grazing your inner thighs, sending shivers racing through your body. A soft whimper escapes your lips as he slides his length up and down your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Slowly, he moves lower, and enters you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you out so deliciously. The stretch makes you cling instinctively to his neck, a low whine slipping from your throat as your body adjusts to the fullness when he bottoms out. His hands keep caressing your thighs, steady and reassuring, as he begins to slowly move. He starts slow, each thrust deliberate and measured, watching you closely as your soft moans and whimpers fill the room. The way your body reacts to him, the way you cling to him, only fuels his desire. “Doing so good, baby—fuck,” he growls, his voice low and possessive. “Such a good girl for me.”

His hands grip your hips firmly, steadying you as he picks up the pace, moving deeper and faster now, the intensity rising with every stroke. Without breaking rhythm, he lifts one of your legs and rests it over his shoulder, giving him better leverage and letting him reach places that make you gasp uncontrollably. “So tight and warm for me, so perfect.” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing your neck. His praise sends a heat rushing through you, mixing with the pleasure and making your breath hitch as he drives into you harder. The stretch still making your body tremble with every push. He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and without breaking pace, he reached up, bringing two fingers to your lips. “Open,” he murmured, voice rough.

You parted your lips obediently, shy but too far gone to resist. He slid his fingers onto your tongue and you immediately began to suck, lashes fluttering as your gaze lifted to meet his. The sight of you like that, lips wrapped around his fingers, eyes wide and watering, making his skin all wet and slick with your spit, made him groan low in his chest. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed. “Look at you.” You whined around his fingers, his pace quickening slightly, hips snapping harder into yours. The new angle made your body jolt, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. He pressed his palm to your tummy, just above where he was buried deep inside you, and you gasped when you felt the pressure. “That’s me, huh? You feel me here?” he gritted through clenched teeth, pressing down just a little more. You nodded frantically, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth around his fingers. The feeling, the pressure, the fullness, it was overwhelming in the best way. Your free hand moved up into his hair, tugging gently, grounding yourself. His fingers slipped from your mouth and your lips chased after them, your breath shaky and desperate. Pressing firmly on your tummy, you choke on a moan, your entire body tightening around him “There, baby?” he murmurs huskily. You nod, heart pounding in your chest, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Slowly, shy but full of trust, you reach up, one hand brushing against his jawline, the other still entwined in his hair. Your touch is gentle, almost worshipful as you caress his face and run your fingers through his hair.

“My smart boy,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. Something snaps in him when he hears that. His pupils dilate, breath hitches, and the rough edge to his expression softens for a split second before darkening with raw hunger. He groans low in his throat, voice rough and desperate “Holy fuck” he breathes softly, tugging you impossibly closer, fingers tightening their grip on your body. “Say it again, baby. Say it—tell me I’m your smart boy.” Your heart races, the power of your words sinking deep into him. He buries his face in your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, marking you with his need and possessiveness as he pounds harder, deeper. You’re a moaning mess, breath shaky and heart hammering as you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes. Your fingers brush tenderly along his jaw and cheek, tracing every sharp line of his face. “You’re my smart boy, baby,” you whisper, voice thick with need and affection, the words tumbling out soft and shaky. He groans low in response, dick twitching inside you as he pulls you impossibly close, his voice rough and ragged. “I’m so close,” he pants, every thrust hitting deeper and harder. You bite your lip, desperate and breathless. “Me too, Riki…g’na cum,” you manage to say, voice barely audible. He brings his fingers down to your clit, moving them in slow circles, as you whine. Your body clenches around him, trembling as you finally reach your peak, a shuddering wave that makes you cry out softly.

He holds you tight through every pulse, never slowing, until with a final, guttural groan, he pulls out and spills himself over your heat, watching intently as it drips and glistens, messy and sticky. His hand gently cupped the back of your leg as he lowered it from his shoulder, eyes never leaving you. You whimpered softly at the emptiness, the overstimulation making your thighs twitch. Riki leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your inner thigh, then another to your tummy, and finally your lips. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice much softer now, low, raspy, but sweet. You nodded, but your lashes fluttered tiredly and your bottom lip trembled just a bit. It had been a lot. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “You did so good, baby.” Riki sat back on the bed, chest rising and falling with every breath, hair messy. His eyes traveled over you, slowly, like couldn’t believe you were real. You lay there catching your breath, hair a messy halo on the pillow, lips kiss-swollen and parted, your skin kissed red with hickeys across your collarbones and tits. The soft sheen of sweat clung to you, and remnants of his cum still lingered on your chest and cunt, glistening faintly in the low light. His eyes trailed lower and he groaned, running a hand through his hair as a crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Shit,” he muttered, voice rough but amused, eyes locked on you. “I’m gonna get hard again.” You giggled, still breathless, hiding your face behind your hands, and he leaned forward, pulling them gently away so he could see you. “Don’t hide from me, princess,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair off your cheek. “You’re so fucking cute.”

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