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[guliexe]

—ONE ON ONE 18+

Nishimura Riki x Female!Reader — University AU

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

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

w/c: 7.4k

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

Until he did.

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

You

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

♡

Riki

yeah

figured you would

♡

You

what’s that supposed to mean

♡

Riki

you always zone out around the halfway mark

kinda cute tbh

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

You

i’m gonna take that as a compliment

♡

Riki

was one

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

Riki

still need help with the lecture stuff?

library’s dead today, come by if u want

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

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

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

To the way he chewed on his cheek while concentrating.

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

You forced yourself to focus. Mostly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

my other works ➵ masterlist

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

© guliexe 2025 all rights reserved.

[witchslove]

👏SO

I keep thinking thots about MILF!Wanda

Thot 1 is about recently-divorced!Wanda wanting to be more sexually adventurous and hitting on her next door neighbor’s kid, Reader (who’s home from college and incredibly dense) but they don’t pick up on her hints so she just keeps getting more and more out there until she basically just screams fuck me

Thot 2 is about powerbottom!Wanda being a size queen and OBSESSED with Bad Dragon toys, and I mean like the H U G E ones.

Anyway love your shit mwah 😘

I am always thinking about milf!Wanda tbh...

I'm obsessed with the first thought, I actually want to write a fic about it. Wanda would be so flirty with you, constantly giving you compliments and teasing you.

She wears jeans that hug her ass just the right way, short dresses that show off her cleavage, and she invites you over for pool days just so she can see your reaction to her in a bikini.

It's obvious that you want her, and she tries to make it obvious that she wants you too, but you never seem to pick up on it. She loves to make you flustered, calling you a good girl when you help her with things and teasing you when she catches you staring. She also tries to coax it out of you, commenting on how alone she is on a Saturday night, hoping you'll invite yourself over, or apologizing for looking like a mess early in the morning, just so you'll tell her she looks beautiful.

Wanda tries to seduce you without actually coming out and saying she wants you, but you're still so oblivious, assuming that the teasing touches and flirty comments she makes are just part of her personality. When she finally does make a move, you're so taken aback by it that it actually makes her laugh.

It starts with a conversation about her divorce, which leads to you reassuring her that anyone would be lucky to be with her. "Anyone?" she asks and you nod. "Someone like you maybe?"

"Um, sure," you respond nervously. "I mean it, Wanda, anyone. You're an amazing woman and if your ex-husband couldn't see that, then he's an idiot." She almost chuckles at how you're still not getting it, biting her lip as she realizes she's going to have to make the first move.

"No," she says, causing you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Not just anyone... you."

While you try to figure out what she means, Wanda leans in and captures your lips with her own, making you gasp. You can't help but kiss her back, despite the state of shock that you're in. Kissing her feels like heaven and you've wanted to do it for far too long. Before you can get lost in it, she pulls away, opening her eyes to look at your shocked expression. The look on your face makes her huff out a soft laugh, her warm breath hitting your face with how close you still are.

"I want you," Wanda says, her voice practically a whisper. "Do you want me too?" She already knows the answer, but she wants to hear you say it.

"Yes," you manage, feeling nervous and excited under her gaze. Her pupils are dilated and focused only on you, and it makes you feel hot all over.

Wanda smiles, satisfied with your response, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, she deepens the kiss, the two of you battling for dominance as your mouths move in tandem. She wins, pushing you back on the couch to crawl onto your lap, pinning you down beneath her as her tongue moves against yours.

After some time, she practically begs you to fuck her. She leads you to her bedroom and you make her cum over and over, her name falling from your lips along with loud moans and breathy praises.

Thank you so much, I’m happy that you enjoy my work! I appreciate you! ❤️

[dioslesbianwife]

can i request nsfw headcanons with the pillarmen? if its ok!!

totally, no prob! thank you for requesting, hope u enjoy <33

Kars

Refined Dom. He acts above it all until you’re under him moaning his name- then his composure fractures. Low growls, lips pressed to your throat, smug praise.

Insanely knowledgeable about anatomy. He knows every spot to touch, bite, or overstimulate. Uses his hands a lot. Teasing, spreading, stroking.

Says things like:

“You should feel honored… no mortal has experienced this side of me.”

Doesn’t stop until you beg him to. Wants to see you overwhelmed and trembling under his perfect control.

His stamina is inhuman. He’ll keep you pressed to the bed for hours, experimenting like a scientist until he finds the exact rhythm that makes you cry out his name.

Can shapeshift his limbs, so uh… get ready for creative positions. He’s always curious to try new things “for the sake of knowledge” of course.

Esidisi

Loud. Hot. Messy. He whines, growls, laughs, and talks the entire time. Complete feral golden retriever energy- but also a passionate worshipper.

Obsessed with your body. Like, genuinely obsessed. He compliments you constantly while gripping your hips and thrusting deep.

Always gets way too into it. Melts down when you pull his hair, grab his horn (if it’s out), or praise him.

“Yesss- say that again- gods, you drive me insane!”

Extremely hot-bodied due to his blood. He uses his heat to make you melt under his touch- warm hands, warm breath, and he loves making you sweat.

Prone to rutting into you like a beast when he loses control, pinning you to the wall or floor with burning, desperate thrusts.

Definitely leaves marks. Not because he wants to be mean, but because he’s so enthusiastic he can’t help it.

Wamuu

Honor-driven, gentle at first- absolutely feral once he’s sure you want it.

He tries to control himself at first. “You are delicate… I will be careful.” But the second you grab his arm or whisper something needy, he snaps.

Big size difference kink. He lifts you with one hand. His arms are massive. He can pound you against a surface like you weigh nothing, and it gets to him every time.

Unironically worships your pleasure like a sacred mission. Moans under his breath when you clench around him, and he pants like a beast in heat.

Whispers respectful praise in between harsh thrusts:

“So beautiful… you take me so well… don’t hold back.”

Likes watching you fall apart. He gets off on your pleasure and holds your hips tight, eyes burning with devotion as he ruins you.

You riding him? He nearly blacks out. His fists dig into the sheets. His head tilts back with a ragged growl.

Santana

Silent and deadly… until he starts getting into it. Then he becomes completely unhinged.

No hesitation. Once you tell him he can, he devours you. Tongue, fingers, hips- all moving in sync like instinct took over.

Doesn’t talk much, but makes deep, guttural noises from his throat. His eyes never leave your face- never.

Mimics your sounds and reactions like a mirror. If you moan, he growls louder. If you scratch his back, he slams into you harder.

Gets very experimental. He’ll flip you over mid-thrust just to see your reaction, or hold your wrists with a shocking amount of strength, pinning you down like prey.

Doesn’t understand limits well at first, but if you gasp out a safeword or say “gentler,” he immediately slows down and growls low- protective and ashamed until you reassure him.

Once he knows your body, he memorizes everything that makes you shake. Then he starts testing you- how long you can last, how many times you can come, how loud he can make you.

[binart]

haiii don't know if you've answered this, but do you plan on making more klance fics? i just wanted to read some langst or good fics but i only liked yours //

WHOA BIG COMPLIMENT THANK U!! right now i'm obsessed with my FFXIV OC E'li so i'm probably only gonna write stuff about him if i do write!! but when my interest inevitably wanes i feel like it's likely i'll go back to my comfort klances LOL

[ninguitar]

pls never get a job. stay jobless pls😭😭✌️✌️✌️ who else is gonna make the best yoonchae fics ever bruh💔💔💔

hey so i cant tell if this is a compliment or not. but i will take it as one! ninguitar will not be getting a job anytime soon… 💔 maybe an internship but not a job 😅😅😅 but it’s okay. anyway THANK u love u i have a yoonchae fic out soon heh 🤣✌️sneak peek to it ig… yoonchaes a barista btw for this au..

[prismaticvampire]

hello !! your works look so stunning , i hope its alright if i request !! 🥹🥹🫶

if youre okay with it , could i request a gothic osaragi [sakamoto days] tumblr layout ? just something super soft with a mostly black and white layout , and a little red as accents please !! if possible , please use as much frills/lace/ribbons as humanly possible !!

if youre rather not, thats also alright as well !! thank you for your time !! :DD

౨ৎ 。 The echo's have answered . .

ᜊ OSARAGI (SAKAMOTO DAYS) TUMBLR LAYOUT ═╪ REQUESTED BY: @oneordinaryautumn F2U WITH CREDITS 𑄽𑄺 LIKE + RB 2 USE ART CREDITS: Lucki7even on X , 2nd artist unknown :( - Thank u so much to the compliment :D !! , i struggled to find official images for osaragi . . but i love sakamoto days so much! (especially the manga) i hope you love the layout!

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Nøkk

Author's note: I'm going to be trying to do Mermay 2025. This is an extra story.

Summary: There is a Nøkk who has been singing- and playing an enchanted violin- luring in an audience. There are the old rumors that they lure in and drown women and children. There are other stories that they teachers of music. Chrad is sent to see if this water spirit man-thing is malevolent or not.

Warnings: None. LMK if I need to add something

tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @i-am-a-dragon34 @ms--lobotomy @jaghatai-khock

tagged: @kit-williams @whorety-k @aprofessionaln00b @bleedingichorhearts @thevoidscreams @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis @bispecsual, @egrets-not-regrets @finchly-tintinnabulation @nereidof40k

"You're music is alluring- and so fine," Chrad praises the Nøkk. Who turns to look up at him.

He has heard of the Mer-astartes. Such large beings- so powerful. There is a touch of strange magic about them. And no one knows entirely sure how they came to be, or where they come from.

He has heard that the Mer-astartes come from beyond the stars themselves- and swim in the void sea. The Nøkk has been curious to see what it is like to hear their tales- and what music they know from beyond the void sea.

The Nøkk had been crafting music- simply because he wanted to hear it resound near his babbling brook- and to lure an audience in to hear his music. Perhaps catch himself someone to teach the beauty of music to.

Catching a Mer-astartes in his music net, was not something he had thought he was strong enough to do. But he's pleased to have such an audience.

"Well met," the Nøkk, says nodding towards Chrad. "A name do you have?"

"A name I have," Chrad says, "A name that is mine to keep. However, you may call me Chrad."

"A name heard, a name that is still yours," The Nøkk says with a nod.

"I hear your music- alluring and lovely." Chrad says picking his words with care.

"I thank you for the compliment," The Nøkk says preening a little.

The Mer astartes- no one had told him how handsome they were. Strong yes, large yes, powerful. But the strange eerie beauty? Rare a word given for such a creature.

"Care to learn of music?" The Nøkk asks.

"I would, a teacher ye be?" Chrad responds.

"Aye." The Nøkk says. "An instrument you have or need to seek?"

"An instrument and instructions, I seek." Chrad admits.

The Nøkk hums a little and tilts his head, "A second violin- a training one I have, for a price I can offer it- for lessons to."

"A price- what?" Chrad asks cautiously his eyes narrowing.

"A kiss willingly given." The Nøkk requests boldly.

"... Aye- one kiss," Chrad agrees.

"Two kisses- the instrument strong- and sweet. Of enchanted nature to withstand the waters rages and play most beautiful music." The Nøkk protests.

"... Fair enough." Chrad says, "Two kisses."

[tiramisumin]

youth

pairing ୨ৎ jung yujun x f!reader

word count ୨ৎ 4.03k

content ୨ৎ swearing, fluff?, angst?, spiderman!au, mentions of violence, blood, bruises, etc., best friends to ???, all i’m saying is ni-ki from enhypen feature, tldr; reader has horrible luck

synopsis ୨ৎ you were never really the end goal… still, he would save you each and every time.

୨ৎ note: this is one of the first wips i started after opening this blog and i actually finished it a while back (fucking NOVEMBER) but i’m just now getting around to posting her… anyway <3 thank u sm for 100+ followers, i appreciate each and every one of u :3

In hindsight, this all could’ve been prevented. Probably.

For some reason you’re not entirely sure of, you’ve always had a habit of getting yourself into insane dilemmas. Without fail. Every single time. Usually they’re avoidable, but you somehow never manage to avoid them. It’s astonishing really.

Like last night, for example. You wound up in a sticky situation yet again. Quite literally.

“Do you plan on letting me go anytime soon or…?”

You felt the blood rushing to your head and your vision was slightly blurry. Hanging upside down with your feet practically super glued to the ceiling will do that to a person, you guess. Pretty inconvenient, though. 

“Do you ever stop talking?” Your attacker asked, voice sounding all sorts of annoyed despite being modified by a voice box and muffled by a mask. “They weren’t kidding when they said you were a yapper.”

“Aw! Does your little underground band of villains talk about me?” You continued to pester the stranger even though you were a bit dizzy, too. 

“Can you just shut up? Or do you enjoy the sound of your own voice too much?” They snapped, holding their blade to the base of your throat. One would think this would do the trick. Most people are afraid of dying. However, you aren’t most people and being on the receiving end of various weapons is just a regular Tuesday for you. 

“Well, I need something to do while I wait for Spider-Man to show up.” 

The masked crusader barely got a second to react to your words when the person you were waiting for finally arrived. The ceiling-to-floor window shattered as he swung in on a web, shooting another to knock the knife out of this week’s villain’s hand. After releasing a couple more webs to create some distance between the two of you, Spider-Man sighed at you wistfully. 

“Oh, my sweet Y/N, is there ever a moment where there isn’t a target on your back?”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” you quipped, extremely lightheaded at that point from being suspended upside down for so long. “I was just talking about you, Spidey.”

His hand rested over his chest. “Wow, I feel so special… Am I the only superhero you’re seeing?”

“You know, I would love to have this conversation when I’m not on the verge of passing out.” Your tone was snappy, but you could care less. Though he’s your knight in shining armor, you’ve been in this position enough times to know he won’t be too mad about it. 

Somehow, he was successful in unsticking you and catching you in his arms without breaking your neck. Even if you couldn’t see his face behind his mask, you could just about picture a wide grin when he says, “Come here often?”

Before you could roll your eyes, you were slipping from his grasp and landing straight on your ass. Spider-Man went flying forward, and if you weren’t feeling such a dull pain in your rear side, you would’ve laughed at the roll he did when it happened. Unlike some of the other villains you’ve encountered, this one was an amateur. From the use of homemade traps to the way they shoved your rescuer, it was so obvious. How elementary. 

“Good God. You talk just as much as she does.” They groaned, stepping over you without care. Clearly his priorities were in check. You were never really the end goal, but rather bait to reel in Spider-Man. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

And then chaos ensued, as per usual. 

It wasn’t long before your dear friend Spidey had your assailant tangled up in his webs and the police arrived. You saluted to him before he made his escape, not necessarily the best of friends with the law. Blah blah blah. Yadda yadda yadda. 

You were growing tired of this same cycle. 

“Fuck.”

There’s a bruise beneath your eye and a long gash on your neck. Thankfully, it’s not too deep and only there because the blade nicked you in the process of it getting launched across the room. You look like hell, and you feel like it, too, but you missed last week’s lecture after a run in with the Green Goblin. If only you could afford to miss another without it taking a hit to your grade. 

Everyone stares as you cross the quad to get to the Arts and Humanities building, a total of four Hello Kitty bandaids covering your jugular and a pair of sunglasses on your face. You’d probably care more if you weren’t on the verge of being late. Your feet carry you as fast as humanly possible, which could have also been the reason why you had so many eyes on you. 

You stumble into your seat, just as your professor walks into the lecture hall, the roar of your peers talking amongst themselves simmering into a low murmur. 

“You don’t look so good.” 

It’s not hard for your lips to turn into a scowl, glaring over at your best friend Yujun briefly. You might’ve strangled him for pointing out what was so obnoxiously apparent had there been less bystanders. He really needed to master the art of subtlety one of these days. Bedside manner was not his strong suit. 

“Oh really? I didn’t notice, Captain Obvious.” You shoot out sharply, voice not too much louder than a whisper. His mouth pulls into a mischievous smile, a small snicker escaping him before he can stop it.

The whole lecture, Yujun sneaks tiny glances in your direction. You notice it from your peripheral vision, an expression so intense on his features you’re not even sure how you’ll bring it up to him after class. Like you’ve mentioned previously, he wasn’t exactly shy with his thoughts. That also translated into how expressive he was with his face.

Eventually you lose interest in learning about General Psychology, and become invested in figuring out why Yujun was acting the way he was. You’re about two seconds from interrogating him, when Nishimura Riki tugs on the sleeve of your top leaving the lecture hall. Part of you is a bit shocked, given the fact that Riki was probably the most sought after guy in your year. You had about as much in common as you did with a pebble.

”Hey, Y/N, right?” He asks, the hint of a curve of a smile on his lips. He was even more gorgeous up close. You truly understood why girls were fawning over him left and right. 

“Uh, yeah. Can I help you?” You really don’t mean to sound so skeptical, and it shows when the regret immediately washes over you, but you’re genuinely curious why Nishimura Riki of all people is talking to you right now. He just laughs at your suspicion, completely ignoring Yujun, who had been standing behind you the entire time.

”I don’t know if you got an email from the professor, but he suggested that you tutor me. I’m kinda not doing too well this semester and I’d really appreciate it.” Riki sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. You nearly coo at how cute the action is, coming from him especially.

”Oh… I don’t think I did?” You’re a little confused given the fact that you weren’t necessarily a star student. However, you’d be an absolute idiot to pass up this opportunity so you don’t question it. Alone time with Nishimura Riki? Every girl at your school would be so envious of you. “I wouldn’t mind helping you out, though!”

“Perfect!” His eyes resemble crescent moons as he says this, and you find yourself slipping further under this Riki-induced spell. “Let’s swap numbers so we can figure out a good time to meet up.”

You do just that and then he’s on his way. Part of you isn’t entirely sure how you can bullshit your way through a study session for a course you’re not even excelling at yourself. That’s a problem for future you, though. For now, you’ll allow yourself to act like a schoolgirl with a crush

”I think you’re drooling.” Yujun comments, walking ahead without waiting for you. If your ears aren’t deceiving you, then you’re almost certain that you heard bitterness in his tone. And if that’s the case, you wonder why. Your best friend was the epitome of sunshine and warmth. 

“What’s it to you?” You shoot back, adjusting the strap of your backpack as you jog to catch up with him. He simply shrugs in response. If you had a nickel for every time you were unable to read Yujun’s expression, you’d be ten cents richer. It’s not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice when you considered how close the two of you were.

You push your best friend’s odd behavior to the back of your mind, not wanting to let that ruin your lucky strike. This was, after all, an opportune moment to showcase that you could be useful for something other than bait for Spider-Man. As… fun… as that is, you needed human interaction with more people. Nishimura Riki was just the solution.

Later that evening, when you’re getting ready to meet up with Riki, you get a phone call.

”Y/N.”

There’s an air of authority to the way Yujun says your name, so firm that a chill runs down your spine. He’s never spoken to you this seriously before and it’s a little jarring. You hum as you finish tying your shoes, trying to hide just how off-putting his tone is to you.

“What’s up?” You’d give yourself an Oscar for such an award-winning performance if you could. You think you sound pretty calm and collected.

“Please be careful tonight.” He says after a brief pause of silence. Your eyebrows knit together.

”Why…?” You halt what you’re doing. Being a protective best friend was one thing, but there was something different about this particular time. It sounded deeper than the usual ‘Text Me If He’s an Asshole’ warning. 

“I just—“ He cuts himself off to sigh. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

”If this is because he’s known for being a player, then it’s okay, I’ll be fine Yujun. I don’t really expect much out of this. It’s just tutoring.” You continue once you believe the problem isn’t life-threatening. Though, you still haven’t learned that you should probably keep your guard up given the fact that people liked to use you as a human rat trap.

“I’m just saying, Y/N. My instincts are normally pretty on the nose with these things. So be careful. For me and my conscience. Okay?” Another underlying tone of something indiscernible is prevalent in his voice. Whatever it is, it forces you to be compliant to your best friend’s wishes. 

“Okay. I will. I promise.” 

—

So maybe this was a bad idea. 

Like you recalled previously, you were kind of shit at Psychology. You were always falling asleep in the lecture because it happened to always be the morning after a run in with one of Spider-Man’s enemies. And because you were asleep, you didn’t take many notes. Without those notes, studying was practically useless. It’s kind of easy to put two and two together from that. 

You’d be extremely fortunate to make it out of this with your ego still intact. 

“Freud was fucking stupid…” You mutter under your breath as you read over the chapter in the textbook that the two of you were working through. Now that you were forced to actually pay attention, you were grasping some of the information better. This Freud guy was actually kind of an idiot. Who let him be named the Father of Psychology??

Riki laughs at your comment, your whisper not being much of a whisper. “Something tells me this is your first time reading the material yourself.”

You look at him sheepishly across the library table. This was so devastating. The whole purpose of agreeing to tutor him was to show off your big brain and make yourself more appealing, but here you were looking like a damn fool. What was so attractive about a liar?

“…You caught me.” 

There was a chance you could save face. Perhaps he was into bold girls. You were bold, right? Getting yourself into this mess could be considered as such. A shy girl wouldn’t have fibbed about her skill level so quickly and so easily. Wow, Y/N, maybe you do have this in the proverbial bag.

”How am I supposed to learn anything if my teacher doesn’t know what she’s teaching me?” He wonders aloud, tapping his pen against his chin. His pouty lips look so tempting. Focus!!!

“The blind leading the blind…?” You realize just how stupid you sound, but it provokes another laugh out of Riki, so you take it as a win.

In the back of your mind, you think about your conversation with Yujun before you left your apartment. You’d promised him that you would be extra cautious, especially since this whole thing was meant to be strictly tutoring. But now you’re starting to feel like that’s not the case, what with all the flirting and no actual studying. (Is this even flirting? Either way, no studious behavior was taking place, so you were already breaking your best friend’s trust.)

”You’re cute, Y/N.” Riki says suddenly, and it takes everything in you not to choke on your own saliva. Okay. So maybe it was flirting.

“I— Huh?” You can’t help but spit out nonsense, completely caught off guard by the sudden shift. It’s different when he’s being upfront and straightforward with what he’s thinking. You don’t have to do mental gymnastics to figure out if he’s thinking the same things as you. Deep down, you think you could handle that better than this.

”Do you wanna take a break? We can go on a walk for a bit.” He suggests, standing from his seat. This has to be the fifth time you were confused today at the very least. Nonetheless, you follow suit.

The sun has long set since the two of you met up and there’s a bit of a wind chill that blows past as you exit the library. You wrap your arms around yourself for a semblance of warmth. Though the fresh air is nice in comparison to the stuffy building, you’re already hoping to head back inside. You know that’s not happening given that Riki has walked a considerable distance ahead.

“You can’t drop the C-Bomb on a girl without an explanation, y’know,” you call after him, attempting to match his speed. “And the fact that we haven’t spoken a word to each other before today makes me even more curious.”

”You’re not really like all the other girls who throw themselves at me.” He finally explains. You almost snort, because of course he’d use the ‘You’re Not Like Other Girls’ line on you. That’s just so rich, really. If anything, he’s exactly like every other guy. It’s such a turn off. He really thought he had you with that one liner, too.

The disappointment shows on your face, you’re sure of it. Just like Yujun, you weren’t subtle with your expressions. “Is that right?”

He stops walking, turning to tilt his head at your lack of enthusiasm. “Usually girls eat that up. Right out of the palm of my hand, actually.” 

“Oh, so you didn’t really believe your own words, then?” Truly, all men were the same. Typical. The annoyance on Riki’s face is so painfully blatant that it eggs you on. “Yujun was right about you. What a shame.”

That seems to strike a nerve, his features twisting into something you never thought you’d see from the boy. “I’d watch it if I were you.”

“And if I don’t?” You challenge. Somehow, you’ve managed to ignore everything your best friend warned you not to do. So this really wasn’t anyone else’s fault but your own. Stupidity and naivety seemed to go hand in hand when it came to you.

”You’re gonna regret that.”

You knew this was all too good to be true.

A cute, popular boy like Nishimura Riki doesn’t pay a second glance to girls like you. In fact, a boy like him doesn’t care for girls at all, rather soaking up all the attention they give him and using it to his advantage. 

Remember that whole spiel about your terrible luck, how it lands you in hot water every time, and also how it was usually preventable? Yeah, that’s your current situation. 

Opening your eyes, you were expecting to be tied up and treated like bait, as per usual. What you weren’t suspecting, however, was your attacker to be none other than the infamous Venom. And even less, to discover that Venom was actually Nishimura Riki. 

You’ve heard many things about the villain from all of the others you’ve been kidnapped by in the past. All of them awful, horrid things that led you to fear who you’d never even met. Being face to face with him and finding out that he was someone you once admired only fuels that fear. 

“What? Cat got your tongue, Y/N?” Riki asks, and you swear you’ve never seen an expression so evil.

“Was the whole tutoring scheme just a way to lure in Spider-Man? How-fucking-original, Riki.” You attempt to steel your voice, knowing that if it quivers you’ll give into what he wants from you. He wants you to be scared. It just plays to his ego. His smirk only widens, as if he knows something you don’t.

“No,” he shakes his head just as the symbiote takes over completely once again, disappearing into the shadows. “The tutoring scheme was just a way to lure in Yujun.”

You’re confused. At first, you think you just heard him wrong. It was plausible since his voice sounds different when he’s consumed by the symbiote. But when you run the sentence through your head again, nothing else fits. What does he mean ‘lure in Yujun’?

As if on cue, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man comes swinging in on his web. But this isn’t the scene you’re used to. There isn’t the regular playful banter with you or the villain of the day. Instantly, he rushes over to you, a hand on each of your shoulders as he inspects to make sure you’re not severely injured. Fortunately, you’re not, other than the concussion that has probably occurred after you were knocked unconscious earlier. 

“You’re not hurt too badly, are you?” Spider-Man asks, voice filled with concern. You’re even more perplexed at this point. 

“Wha—?!”

“I don’t think you understand. Venom is dangerous, Y/N. He could’ve killed you. The others, they fuck around just to bring me out, but they won’t actually harm you in a way that risks your life. Venom would.” He explains exasperatedly, thumbs massaging into your skin. If only you could see his face, you’d have a grasp of how much he’s actually worried about you. And like he can read your mind, Riki is reemerging from his hiding spot. His arm comes around Spider-Man’s neck, not enough pressure to choke him, but enough to subdue him. 

His free hand removes your savior’s mask, and the gasp that leaves you is dramatic.

Your best friend stares back at your helpless figure as he tries to escape from Riki’s hold. The pit in your stomach deepens. Every time you were swept off the streets by one of the many villains plaguing your city, you knew Spider-Man would come to your rescue. Every time there was a possibility that you could die, you didn’t let yourself be afraid, because you knew he would be here to save you. Discovering that your hero had been beneath your nose all along has successfully thrown you for a loop. 

Riki’s grip on Yujun tightens, and that sinking feeling grows heavier. For once, fear runs your blood cold when you think of what could come of this. The rope around your wrists burns against your skin as you struggle to loosen it, wanting so badly to be the one who saves Spider-Man this time around. 

“I wanted to tell you sooner,” Yujun says suddenly, desperately attempting to wriggle his way out of Riki’s near headlock. “I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but I was always scared that something like this would happen. I thought I was protecting you.”

Had this been a different situation, you’d argue that you’ve been dealing with this for far too long now for that to be the issue. But even then, you’d never have the heart to say anything because he’s always there to rescue you, without fail. And when you really thought about it, everything made so much sense. Yujun never asking why you had mysterious bruises or cuts, Yujun sometimes being sore for absolutely no reason, Yujun being so cautious and protective of you. 

Tears line your eyes, gritting your teeth in pain as you try even harder to free yourself of your restraints. This wasn’t for you, it was for him. 

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the Spider-Man you deserved this time,” he says weakly, the Venom symbiote amplifying Riki’s strength. You want to scream. You’re so frustrated that your best friend is right in front of you, on the brink of death, and there isn’t much you can do but thrash around in hopes that will get you somewhere. 

And by some magnificent stroke of luck, it does. 

You feel the rope slip off of your wrists and you spring into action. Had this been with any of the other villains you’ve encountered, it would’ve probably been a fairer fight. Right now, however, you have your work cut out for you. 

Your brain wracks itself to think of what Spider-Man would do and forces your body to follow in auto-pilot. “Yujun, shoot out a web!”

Despite his limited movement, he does exactly that. You drag the sticky substance like it’s ribbon from one of your various rolls at home, tripping Riki-Venom in the process. His hold on Yujun loosens just enough from him to slip out. Once he’s regained his own footing, he snatches his mask off the floor and slides it back on, shooting web after web to overpower Riki-Venom entirely. 

The symbiote reverts until it’s just normal Riki lying on the ground, wrapped up in webbing. You don’t know what it is, but the timing between Spider-Man and the police is always so perfect. Yujun grabs your hand when you hear the sound of herded footsteps and walkie-talkies coming up the stairs of the parking garage you were in. He jumps from the nearest opening without giving you a warning and you shriek, shutting your eyes tightly. 

When you don’t hit pavement immediately, you take a peek at your surroundings, realizing that you’re swinging between buildings while koala-beared to Yujun’s side. This whole My Best Friend Is Spider-Man thing was gonna take some getting used to…

Once you’ve made it to safety, he lets you go and the two of you nearly fall to your knees. Yujun pulls up his mask enough for you to see his face again, inhaling deeply as if he’s never breathed before. You don’t know if it’s the fact that he managed to rescue you in spite of what just happened or the vulnerability he showed you when you both thought you were done for, but the sight of him has your heart skipping a beat. 

“I kinda saved your ass, y’know.” You joke after a moment, swallowing down the emotions threatening to spill over. 

He laughs and you wonder why you’ve never noticed how melodic it is, or how pretty he looks when he’s smiling. Especially when it’s directed at you. “Yeah, you kinda did, huh?”

You both instinctively take a step towards each other. Your eyes flit down to his lips briefly, almost instantly returning to the mocha brown eyes that sparkle with something akin to adoration. “I guess I owed you for all those other times that you saved me.”

Yujun inches closer until he’s within arms’ reach, mirroring your actions with an unwavering smile. It’s that same grin that you imagined whenever Spider-Man was flirting with you, but somehow it’s so much better. “I’ll always save you. Over and over and over again.” 

© 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏.

[prettyplzwithacherryontop]

okay am i the only artist who hates the "you could do this" comment when viewing other people's art. like, thats great, i dont have doubt in my talent. second its almost like u dont understand theres a reason that piece was made and i dont share the life experiences of this specific person. i try my best to just say thank you and take it as a compliment but seriously, can u not talk abt art at all and have to make my interest in drawing and painting as my sole personality..

[esquie]

do you have a list of the stardew valley mods you're using? I'm so curious cuz your game looks fantastic

omg so i didnt make a modlist BUT i will list mods that you have probably seen in my screenshots

Elle's Dirt and Cliff Recolor

Better Water 2 (Blue/Transparent)

Water Flow

Visible Fish (literally only have it set to show fish)

Diverse Stardew Valley

Portraited Changing Skies

Seasonal Vanilla UI

Kisaa's Cozy Rustic Farmhouse

Kisaa's Cozy Rustic Kitchen

Kisaa's Mystwood Homestead

my house is decorated with modded items as well as vanilla items but i could not tell you what what is from what . like i could not

if something u noticed that u want is missing just lmk and i can like. figure it out. and screenshot my mods folder too tbh

[christakisbang]

[witchslove]

just thinking abt those renaissance fair vids where you have to hold onto something or get cuffed while someone helps u drink,,,,

(here's a link if u don't know what im talking abt HELP😭: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSkd2EUE1/)

and now im imagining fem!reader going there and emo!wanda in a renaissance outfit talking them through it while they're drinking from a can😿😿😿

OH MY GOD YES I LOVE THIS

You’re at the renaissance fair with your friends and they encourage you to try it, so you do, somewhat reluctantly. It isn’t until you catch sight of the girl working behind the bar that you suddenly feel both nervous and excited. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with dark brown hair and green eyes that sparkle, her fingers adorned with so many rings you briefly wonder how long it takes her to put them all on - or take them off.

You walk up to the bar and the beautiful woman behind it turns to face you, greeting you. Your friends waste no time in making sure she knows what you’re there for and soon she’s cuffing you, her ring-clad fingers skillfully working to close the cuffs around your wrists.

“I’m Wanda by the way,” she says with an adorable smile, your heart fluttering at the way she bites her lip.

“Y/N,” you manage to respond, returning her smile with a tight-lipped one of your own.

She turns around behind the bar, bending over to grab a drink, and that’s when you notice her sinfully short skirt paired with black thigh-highs that only make you want her even more. When your friends pressured you into this, you weren’t expecting to end up having a crush on the woman who would be restraining you and guiding a drink into your mouth.

Wanda faces you again with a smirk on her face. “You ready?”

You nod shyly as she leans in, pressing the can to your lips and tipping it slightly, the cold seltzer pouring into your mouth. You swallow obediently, making sure to stay focused so you can keep up. The entire experience makes you feel submissive and you’re almost ashamed at how turned on you are by it.

“Good girl,” Wanda praises as you continue swallowing everything she gives you. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.” Her words go straight to your core and you’re so lost in the moment that you don’t even notice your friends teasing you and hyping you up as they watch.

You stare up at Wanda, feeling small under her gaze as she smiles down at you, guiding the drink into your mouth and talking you through it.

“Good girl,” she reiterates as you finish the drink. She removes the can from your lips but doesn’t pull away from you, holding your gaze as you take a breath. “You did so good for me,” she says, reaching out to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you mumble, your brain feeling fuzzy from the closeness.

Her eyes flick down to your lips for a brief second, making your breath hitch. “Why don’t you come see me again after my shift, hm? Next round is on me,” she proposes confidently, raising an eyebrow when you don’t respond right away.

“Um, yeah sure,” you stutter out, unable to bite back a smile at her wanting to see you again. “What time are you off?”

“Come back here around 7. I’ll take care of you pretty girl,” Wanda says with a wink, the compliment making you blush again, which she notices.

You nod, your cheeks flushed, and say your goodbyes for now, turning towards your friends who were pretending to be immersed in conversation while they listened in. They tease you relentlessly but you couldn’t care less, knowing that this won’t be the last time you see Wanda.

[vakariaan]

♫ it's in his kiss ♫

[payasita]

gotta tell you I've kept going back to look at the UPA style drawings over and over today they just make me so happy (especially the thespius and clickclack. obviously. I am a predictable sap) anyway thank you it has been providing me free serotonin all day

AAA TYSM!!

also, HARD AGREE. it like. it Goes

It Goes. bright n colorful toony boys. the aesthetic timelines are close enough

[meow1007]

plz sang woo smut i love ur writing

I can’t wait to write some fics about him in the future!! Here are some headcanons for now:

— he can get so mean during sex :(( loves manhandling you, putting you in your place by pulling your hair and slapping you around, especially after he’s had a bad day and needs to take it out on someone

— if you’re being really bratty he might even tie you up, overstimulate you until you make a mess and beg him to stop

— he loves being close to you, which often means just a lot of cockwarming. watching a movie? might as well have him inside you filling you up, if you’re good enough and stop squirming he might even let you cum

— he’s very possessive, if he lets you go out with your friends at night I just know that he cums into your panties so you’ll remember who you belong to <3

— loves spitting in your mouth, not just during sex, like I said he’s very possessive and the intimacy of it just makes him feel like he’s marking you

— idc what anyone says he loves eating your pussy!! he doesn’t even care if you cum, it’s mostly for his own pleasure. if he finds you in bed doing something else he just gets between your legs, tells you to keep doing whatever you’re doing and eats you out until you can’t take it anymore

— not a big fan of PDA unless he feels like you’re getting too much attention from people around you

— I just know that there’s been times when he’s lit a cigarette while you were giving him a blowjob lmao

— really good at aftercare tho <3 he knows that he’s always pushing you to your limits, so he does his best when he tries to bring you down to earth after getting you drunk on his cock

[viminoo]

the medic and his sun

just a quick sketch i coloured in for funsies! and the rest of the doodles i drew,,,