riki nishimura ~ fuck, you smell like me ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
warnings: smut (mdni), dirty talk, power dynamics, degradation, possessive behavior, bite marks, bareback sex, mild breath play, emotional intensity, implied aftercare (not detailed) let me know if there’s more !!Â
The door clicks shut behind you, the soft sound swallowed by the dim warmth of Niki’s bedroom. The lamp on his nightstand casts a low amber glow across the rumpled sheets, and there he is, sprawled out in the center of the bed like he owns the space, like he owns the air you’re breathing. His smile is lazy, knowing, a crooked curve that makes your stomach flip.
“There you are,” he says, voice a low murmur thick with teasing. He pats the mattress beside him, fingers drumming once, twice. “Come on. Get in.”
You don’t slide in beside him. Instead you climb onto the bed, knees sinking into the soft comforter, and lower yourself down until your chest meets his, your legs straddling his hips. Your arms loop around his neck, fingers threading through the blond hair at his nape. He lets out a low chuckle, hands settling on your waist, thumbs tracing lazy circles through the fabric of your top.
“Bold tonight,” he breathes, his eyes half lidded as he looks up at you. “I like it.”
You don’t answer with words, just press closer, letting your body melt into his warmth. For a moment there’s just the rhythm of your breathing, the faint thud of his heart against your ribs. Then he inhales, slow and deep, his nostrils flaring as he tips his head into the curve of your neck.
His hands still.
“Mm.” The sound vibrates against your skin. “You smell like me.”
Your cheeks heat. You try to shrug it off, turning your face away, but his fingers dig into your hips, holding you still. “I just borrowed your hoodie earlier,” you mumble. “It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Niki’s voice drops, rougher now, edged with something hungry. His nose trails along your jaw, inhaling again. “Fuck, that’s so hot. You walked around all day smelling like my cologne. Like everyone who got close to you could smell me on your skin.”
You shiver, a tiny sound escaping your throat. “Niki—”
“Don’t play shy now,” he murmurs, and his tongue flicks out, tracing a hot wet line from your collarbone up to your ear. “You knew what you were doing. You wanted me to notice.”
You can’t deny it. The way his voice curls around the words makes your thighs clench. He takes your silence as answer, and his grin presses against your pulse point.
Then his mouth opens, and he licks a broad stripe up the side of your neck.
A gasp punches out of you. His tongue is wet and warm, lapping at the sensitive skin just below your ear before his lips close and he sucks. Hard. The sensation is sharp and dizzying, a pull that sends sparks straight down between your legs. He releases with a wet pop, only to move lower, licking and sucking a trail down the column of your throat, marking every inch he can reach.
“N-niki,” you breathe, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He hums against your skin, the vibration making you tremble. “Yeah? You like that, baby? You like when I leave my marks on you?”
You nod, but words fail as he finds a particularly tender spot just above your collarbone and sinks his teeth in gently, then soothes it with his tongue. By the time he pulls back, there’s a constellation of blooming bruises on your neck, dark promises of what’s to come.
He sits up slightly, enough to grab the hem of his shirt and yank it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric hits the floor, and your eyes drop to his chest, to the hard planes of his stomach, the lines of muscle that carve a V down into the waistband of his sweats. You can’t help it, your hands leave his neck and press flat against his abs, feeling the warmth and the subtle twitch of muscle under your palms.
He watches you, a smug glint in his eyes. “Touch all you want. I know you’ve been dying to.”
Your fingers trace the ridges, slow and reverent. He’s so warm, so solid. You want to climb inside his skin.
But then his hand moves, sliding up your stomach under your top. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate. He pushes the fabric up, bunching it under your chin, and your breasts are bared to the lamplight. No bra. He knew, he must have known, the way he’d been palming you through the thin cotton all this morning.
His breath catches. “Fuck, look at you.” His thumb brushes over your nipple, already peaked and sensitive. “Coming in here with no bra, lying on top of me, spreading your legs over my cock like a perfect little slut.”
The word hits you like a slap. It burns hot and bright in your chest, and you arch into his touch.
“I’m not—” you start, but he cuts you off with a squeeze, a gentle twist of his fingers.
“Yeah you are.” He says it like a compliment, like a prize. “And I love it.”
He leans forward and his mouth replaces his hand. His tongue circles your nipple, lazy at first, then faster, harder, and he sucks it deep into his mouth. Your back bows off the bed, a cry tearing from your throat. He switches to the other, giving it the same attention, laving and sucking until both are glistening and swollen.
“Please,” you gasp, rocking your hips against the hard length of him through his sweats. “Niki, please, I need—”
“Need what?” He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips wet, eyes dark with lust. “Use your words, baby.”
“I need you inside me.” Your voice is raw, desperate. “Please, Niki. Fuck me.”
His grin is feral. “That’s my girl.”
He shifts, and in one smooth motion he rolls you onto your back, his body covering yours, pinning you to the mattress. His weight is perfect, heavy and grounding. He reaches down and yanks at the waistband of your pants, pulling them down your legs along with your panties. You kick them free. Then his own sweats follow, kicked to the floor, and his cock springs free, thick and aching, pressing against your thigh.
He positions himself at your entrance, just the tip nudging against your wetness. He doesn’t push in yet. He leans down, lips brushing your ear.
“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” His voice is a low growl. “Since the moment you walked into my room smelling like me. I’ve been hard the whole time, thinking about how good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”
You whimper, hips bucking, trying to take him in, but he holds still.
“Ask me again,” he says. “Say my name like you mean it.”
“Niki,” you whine, the name breaking on your lips. “Please, fucking hell, just put it in.”
And then  he pushes.
The stretch is exquisite, a slow burn that makes you gasp and claw at his shoulders. He eases in inch by inch, letting you feel every bit of him, until he’s seated hilt-deep, his hips flush against yours. He stays there for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you panting.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”
He starts to move, a slow grind that builds into a steady rhythm. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling his mouth to yours for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.
“Harder,” you beg against his lips. “Please, Niki, harder.”
He gives it to you, snapping his hips faster, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. His pace is punishing, relentless, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes.
“You like that?” He grunts, his control fraying. “You like taking my cock like this?”
“Yes, yes, f-fuck, Niki, don’t stop.”
He slows for a moment, just to torture you, then drives in deep and stays there, grinding his pelvis against your clit. You cry out, your nails raking down his back.
“Look at you,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “All messy and needy for me. You’ll cum for me, won’t you? Right now?”
You can only nod, your body trembling on the edge.
“That’s it.” he growls, and his thrusts become erratic, desperate.
The orgasm hits you like a wave, crashing through every nerve, your inner walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper. He follows a second later, with a guttural groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, his body shuddering against yours.
He collapses on top of you, his weight a comforting blanket. His breath is hot against your neck, his lips pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.
“Goddamn,” he murmurs. “You’re going to ruin me.”
You smile, your fingers carding through his damp hair. “Good.”
