You had grown used to the ache of it, almost comfortable in its familiarity. Even so, some nights you still woke up reaching for a warmth that wasn’t there, cursing yourself for the weakness.

With that lingering emptiness came the decision to join the study; a well-paid psychological experiment on intimacy and cognition. Six hours. One stranger. Clinical detachment in silk robes and signed consents— maybe it was a way to prove to yourself that you could still be touched without falling apart.

Because what’s worse ? Never being known again? Or never being felt again, in the fear of it?

You’d found the ad late one sleepless night, scrolling through a forum for research participants. “Seeking emotionally mature adults for a paid study on human connection and decision-making under controlled conditions. Generous compensation. Strict confidentiality.” It felt gerneal enough to be safe, intriguing enough to tame the voice in your head that whispered you were only doing this because you were awfully lonely.

You’d hesitated, of course. For days you left the tab open, rereading the description, weighing the risk against the numbness that had settled in your bones since the breakup.

What if the stranger is awful?

What if their hands feel wrong?

What if being touched by someone who doesn’t know you only makes the emptiness louder?

The apprehension sat heavy in your stomach— being touched without being known sounded almost clinical, transactional; skin on skin with no history, no shorthand, no one who understood that you liked your neck kissed softly at first, then harder when you started to tremble. Just a body. A stranger’s hands mapping territory that once belonged to someone else.

And yet, here you were. Because after eighteen months of dating apps and god-awful dinners that led nowhere, the idea of feeling something— even if it was manufactured— felt better than feeling nothing at all.

In the sleek waiting room that felt more like a high-end spa than a laboratory— a calm woman in a white coat greeted you with a smile. “Good afternoon, y/n. I’m Dr. Ellis. You’ll be subject A today.”

All around you— it felt less like the reception area of a research facility and more like the lounge of an impossibly expensive wellness retreat. Soft amber light spilled from recessed fixtures hidden within the ceiling, casting a gentle glow over pale stone floors and curved ivory walls that were so seamless they looked sculpted rather than built. Minimalist furniture sat deliberately spaced apart— cream armchairs, glass tables with no visible joints, and a single arrangement of pristine white orchids that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

There were no reception desks cluttered with paperwork, no ticking clocks, no magazines left on tables; instead, sleek touchscreens were embedded discreetly into the walls, their displays dim until someone approached.

Everything about the space had been designed to soothe, yet its perfection felt strangely unsettling, as though every texture, every light, and every silence had been calcutated long before you arrived.

“Subject A?” you asked, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“It’s simply how we identify participants during the study.” the woman smiled oddly.

“So there’s a Subject B.”

“There is.” she fiddled with some papers, like this was all normal and nothing to be concerned about.

“Am I.. supposed to know who they are?”

“No.”

You considered the situation, what could go wrong, right? It’s not like you had anything worth celebrating in your life, you hadn’t taken any risks in a long long time— and surely this one was undeniably huge but the point still stands.

“Do they know who I am?” you asked.

“No they don’t.” she simply shook her head, “Before we begin, I need you to review and sign these consent forms.” She slid a tablet across the low table. “The session lasts six hours in a controlled environment. You’ll be paired with another participant— someone we’ve matched based on compatibility metrics. Instructions will appear on a screen, and remember ! You are free to give or withdraw verbal consent at each stage, but full participation is required to receive payment.”

You scanned the dense paragraphs, heart picking up speed. “And… what exactly is the goal of this? The real one, I mean.”

Dr. Ellis folded her hands. “We’re studying how prior emotional experiences influence physiological and psychological responses during guided intimacy. Arousal patterns, decision-making, emotional regulation. It’s part sexology, part attachment research really. Everything is recorded for data purposes— biometrics, audio—but visual privacy is maintained within the room. You’ll wear a silk robe provided and no personal information will be exchanged unless the protocol requires it.”

After a pause, you signed and surprisingly your hand barely trembled. You’d thought about it a lot, it seemed like the right path to take— as controversial as that sounds— you wanted, needed, to feel something.

“Excellent. There’s a changing room just through that door. Remove your clothing, put on the robe, and we’ll proceed once you’re ready y/n.”

You stood in front of the full-length mirror of the changing room for a long moment, letting the robe hang open. Your eyes traced the familiar lines of your body; the curve of your waist, the faint marks time had left, the places his mouth used to worship. He used to kiss right here, you thought, fingertips brushing your hip. Like he was memorizing me.

You closed the robe, tied the belt with deliberate care, and stepped back out.

Dr. Ellis waited with a black silk blindfold. “This is for the transition, it helps reduce pre-session anxiety.” She tied it gently behind your head.

The world went dark, soft and complete all the while her hand rested lightly on your arm as she guided you forward. “Breathe normally. The room is private— audio monitored for consent and safety, but no visual feed inside. You’ll be fine.”

With that lingering emptiness still wrapped around your ribs, Dr. Ellis guided you forward one last time. The blindfold stayed firmly in place as you were led through a final door and cool air brushed against your bare legs beneath the silk robe they had given you— thin, luxurious, and far too intimate for what this was supposed to be. You heard the soft click of another door closing behind you and tthe lock sliding into place.

You stood there, heart thudding slow and heavy, the world reduced to darkness and the faint scent of clean linen and warm skin. “We’ll proceed now,” she said quietly, and then her footsteps retreated. The door clicked shut.

Silence.

You sat there, nervousness making your fingers fiddle with the edge of the robe. The fabric whispered against your thighs as you crossed your legs, uncrossed them, heart hammering. Sensory deprivation made every sound louder: the air circulation, the mechanical click of something locking into place. Then footsteps approached from the opposite side of the room— measured, familiar in weight.

And … that scent— cedar and warm skin, with the faintest trace of the same cologne only he used to wear. You’d recognize it anywhere, god— even in a crowded room, even after all this time. It was all a cruel joke, a stranger wearing his scent like it was the most normal thing ever.

But it wasn’t possible, you didn’t believe in fate, kismet and whatnot.

So then, gently, almost carefully, you removed the blindfold from your eyes as you’d been instructed to do.

And the first thing you noticed— was a funny thing— there was no stranger, no unknown, because the man who sat before you, blond hair tousled, ditching his own blindfold— was only a person you knew too well.

Riki. Nishimura Riki.

The man you’d loved for so many years looked… healthy, the same way you’d always remembered him— his posture still effortlessly straight, shoulders broad beneath the silk robe, dyed hair had grown just enough to soften around his forehead, a few loose strands falling carelessly where you knew he’d brush them back without thinking.

Time had sharpened him in beautiful ways— his jaw a little more defined, the lines around his eyes ever so slightly deeper—but none of it was enough to make him unfamiliar.

He was still unmistakably Riki. The kind of face you’d once memorized in every light imaginable, from mornings to nights, now standing only a few feet away as if eighteen months had been nothing more than a badly remembered dream.

And somehow— it turned out that time had done everything except teach your heart who to belong to. You looked at each other the way abandoned homes remember their owners.

It was a peculiar kind of silence really —the kind reserved for funerals, churches, and people who had once known the shape of each other’s souls. No sharp breaths. No widened eyes in shock. No words at all actually. Just the heavy, crushing weight of recognition settling between you.

And somehow, despite everything, the years folded themselves away— and god, it was almost insulting how quickly it happened. Like someone familiar taking their old seat, you looked at him, he looked back— and there was no anger left. Only evidence that there had once been too much love.

Tears built slowly in your eyes, inevitable, blurring the sharp familiar lines of his jaw, the curse of his mouth.

His own eyes glistened in answer, water gathering there and a single tear tracing down his cheek before he brushed it away wordlessly, almost absentmindedly.

And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Even if the world had caught fire around you, your gaze remained locked on Riki’s face. The tears that had been building finally slipped free, tracing warm paths down your cheeks, but you made no move to wipe them away. He didn’t either— instead, a small, broken smile curved his lips through the tears— sad, aching, and so painfully familiar it twisted something deep inside your chest.

It wasn’t a happy smile, it was the kind of smile that carried every quiet moment when he must have wondered the same thing you did: What if we had fought harder?

God, this fucking hurt.

After a long silence, you lifted a trembling hand toward the mirrored wall without breaking eye contact with him. Your voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“There’s been a mistake…”

No response. No voice crackled through a hidden speaker. No footsteps outside the door.

Eventually, the large screen on the far wall lit up with soft white light and an automated, calm female voice filled the room, utterly detached:

“Subject A and Subject B have been paired based on compatibility metrics. You may not leave the room for six hours and you must follow every instruction in sequence. Refusal ends the session and forfeits payment. Verbal consent will be recorded at each escalation. Reiterate consent to proceed.”

The words landed like stones in still water.

You felt your breath hitch— this couldn’t be happening. A bitter, broken laugh almost escaped your throat, but it died before it could form, tears falling instesd.

Riki’s smile faded slowly, replaced by something else unguarded; he swallowed hard, jaw tightening, another drop slipping down his cheek and his hands flexed at his sides almost automatically, as if fighting the instinct to reach for you. He gave the smallest nod— barely there—his dark eyes never leaving yours. His voice, when it came, was low and rough, thick with emotion.

“I consent.” It’s almost as if he hadn’t even needed to think about it twice, an instinct, or more-so the lack of a survival one.

In response, you closed your eyes for half a second, overwhelmed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. When you opened them again, Riki was still watching you with that same devastating patience— the same intensity that had once made you feel like the only person alive.

You didn’t want to leave.

Even after all this, even with the clinical voice echoing in your ears and the weight of eighteen months crashing down in one devastating instant, the thought of walking out felt impossible. Because if you left now— if you said no and ended the session— there was no guarantee you would ever see him again. No guarantee that life would ever grant you this kind of impossible second chance. The universe had already been cruel enough to rip him away once.

What were the odds it would ever align like this again? Zero. None.

You thought about the empty months stretching behind you. The way every new touch from anyone else had felt like a pale imitation— the way you still reached for him in your sleep. Walking out might protect your heart in the short term, but it would condemn you to wondering what if for the rest of your life.

Because of that, staying felt like the only sane choice. Even if it destroyed you, even if it tore open every wound you had tried so desperately to stitch shut. At least here, in this sterile room with its one-way mirrors and biometric sensors, you would have six hours. Six hours of him. Six hours where science itself forced you close enough to breathe the same air, to remember what it felt like to be known.

Strangely enough, the mechanics of it all made the decision feel almost fated— the locked doors, the no-escape clause, the payment dangling like an excuse you could hide behind later. Because of course, you had bills to pay, you had a broken washing machine, and loans to pay off.

It wasn’t my choice, you could tell yourself. The experiment made me stay.

But deep down you knew the truth, so you drew in a shaky breath, eyes still locked on his. “I consent,” you whispered, voice cracking.

The automated voice responded immediately, neutral and efficient: “Consent recorded for both subjects. Stage one will begin in thirty seconds.”

Riki’s gaze softened further, that heartbreaking little smile flickering back to life for just a moment— sad, tender, as if he knew exactly what storm was raging inside you. As if he was fighting the exct same one.

The automated voice returned, slicing through the thick silence: “Stage one: Sit facing each other on the bed, two feet apart.”

Without hesitation, you moved first, your legs felt unsteady as you crossed the short distance to the large bed. The mattress dipped softly under your weight. Riki followed in one smooth motion, settling directly across from you. Exactly two feet.

Close enough to feel him, far enough to not reach.

You looked at each other and in response, his eyes— those dark, familiar eyes—held yours without flinching. You were shaking, you couldn’t stop it— your hands rested on your thighs, fingers curled tightly into the silk robe, trying to anchor yourself.

“Maintain eye contact for ten minutes while answering researcher questions aloud,” the voice instructed.

The first question appeared on the screen. “Describe your history with this person in one sentence.”

Riki went first— ever the bravest; he swallowed hard, throat working visibly and his voice came out hesitant, cracking under the weight of emotion.

“She was my… my first love.”

After a pause, it was your turn— inevitably you’d have to talk, to purge yourself of this unpleasant feeling. But god were you petty…

“He was someone I knew very well. We um… used to date.”

Even then, the words felt like a lie on your tongue, too small to contain the entirety of him. You didn’t date— you felt, and you broke, you crashed hundreds of times with each other like planets colliding— as dramatic as it all sounds. It had been nothing short of a destruction.

But the voice moved on to the next question. “What is your strongest memory of this person?”

You spoke first this time, the memory rising unbidden.

“The day we broke up,” you said slowly, voice trembling. “How quiet it got, i guess.”

Riki’s eyes shimmered as hi jaw tightened. When he answered, his voice was barely above a whisper,

“I remember watching her cry because of me.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks again but you didn’t bother wiping them. They were the same that had fallen that night, after what seemed like the hundredth fight.

“What do you still feel when you look at this person?”

That cruel voice stripped you bare until suddenly— you were there, saying things you’d never thought you’d say.

“The same thing I feel looking at someone I used to know… I don’t know, familiarity I guess… stuff I thought I outgrew.”

Riki looked surprised, not by your confession— but more by your stability, the way you kept walls all around you, walls he’d teared down long before and you’d quickly rebuilt.

“The happiest part of my life.” he answered.

You wanted to agree; god knew you wanted to, but you couldn’t. Agreeing would mean defeat and defeat would mean you had something to loose. The years you’d spent with Riki had been your happiest too, a lifetime of laughter, pleasure and complicity… but still, that had never been enough.

The questions continued mercilessly, like a vague health questionnaire. “Do you consider this person a part of your past, present, or future?”

“Past,” you said quickly, without giving it a thought.

Riki shook his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think you can put someone like her in one category.”

Had he thought about it a lot? Had he spent hours staring at the ceiling wondering whether you were a thing of memories, or a constant? Because you had— but that wasn’t something you were ready to admit.

“Do you believe your feelings for this person are resolved?”

“No,” Riki answered immediately.

“Yes.” you said. He wasn’t even offended— because the thing with people who know you existentially, is that they can tell when you’re lying.

Riki knew you, knew how your tongue loved to tell tales, how you couldn’t even help it— that’s just the way you were, way too proud for your own good.

But thankfully, he was honest enough for the both of you.

“What part of your connection with this person do you not miss?”

You swallowed. “Feeling like I had to wait for someone who was always somewhere else.”

Riki’s expression crumpled slightly. “The moments when I made her feel alone.”

“And what part of your connection with this person do you miss the most?”

Too many possibilities tangled in your mind, where to begin? Would you be shameless enough to say you missed the way his hands fit against your cheeks? The way he knew your defence mechanisms like the back of his hand? The way he’d never blamed you for how loud and how inhibited you were?

There were an infinity of things to say— but all that came were grudges.

“The way I used to be before him.”

Riki’s voice softened, letting out a small breathy chuckle, truly amused by your ability to dodge the real questions. “I miss the ordinary things. Just… existing in the same space.”

“Do you believe this person knows you?”

“He used to.”

“Yes,” the man said without hesitation. “Still does.”

Did you though?

“What do you believe they should apologize for?”

“Nothing.” The word left your lips too quickly.

Riki took a shaky breath. “For thinking she had to leave before I could hurt her again.”

“Do you forgive this person?”

You nodded, “yes”

Dr. Ellis’s voice came through the speaker for the first time, gentle but probing. “Do you mean that, y/n ?”

You answered tightly, “I said yes.”

Lie.

Riki’s gaze was steady, full of sorrow. “I don’t have anything to forgive her for.”

He did— god he did, but he was so good, too good to say it.

“Did your physical response change when you first saw them?”

“No,” you said, but the heart-rate monitor attached to your chest beeped sharply, the line spiking on the screen.

Dr. Ellis spoke again. “Your monitor indicates otherwise.”

Maybe the monitor was right— your heart seemed to be beating out of your chest, but to your credit? It was hot inside that room, and your robe was too tight.

“Then it’s inaccurate,” you muttered, voice tight with frustration.

Riki’s answer? It was simple, “Yes.”

“And were you surprised by your reaction?” the voice prompted.

“No.” you shook your head.

Dr. Ellis asked, “Why?”

“Because I expected it to happen,” you replied, almost absentmindedly brushing a tear from your cheek.

That was a lie, (once again), you hadn’t even expected to be confronted to so many things today, you thought. you were in for a new experience, a way of feeling a little bit.

Instead you were feeling way too damn much.

When it was his turn, Riki answered, “Yes… I thought i was over it.”

The final questions landed like blows. Too much, too precise.

“Do you still love them?”

You didn’t even think about it— maybe if you had you would’ve said the truth, “No.”

Riki’s voice broke completely on his answer. “Yes.”

“If this person asked you to stay, would you?”

“No.”

Your ex lover looked at you for a long moment, eyes glistening. “I don’t know.”

Dr. Ellis prompted gently, “You don’t know?”

“Because I’d want to,” he finished, voice barely holding together.

See, anyone listening could think you were indifferent— cold, but youd spent eighteen months learning how to live without him, not eighteen months learning how to stop feeling. This was more or less your way of removing pieces of yourself before anyone else could touch them, before it could cause actual damage.

You refused to give the past anything soft to hold onto, because once this was over— once the 6 hours were done, there would be no excuses for you and Riki to be alone in a room dancing around feelings.

“Stage two: Touch only hands and arms. Trace each other’s arms, shoulders, and face. Maintain eye contact. Answer all questions aloud.”

After a long silence, you both moved toward the center of the bed like an evidence. You told yourself it was for the money but in all honesty?

You’d die if Nishimura Riki didn’t touch you right now.

As if any sudden motion might shatter the fragile tension holding you together, you sat facing each other, knees almost brushing. Riki lifted his hands first, palms up in quiet offering and you placed yours over his wordlessly.

The moment your skin met, everything got louder in your head.

Riki’s fingers trembled against yours— the old electricity was instant and terrifying, familiar, dangerous and terribly alive. It raced up your arms like lightning remembering its favorite path home.

Fuck, you thought, breath catching. This is too much.

The screen lit up with yet another invasive question.

“Rate your current arousal 1-10.”

Riki answered first, almst absentmindedly stroking his thumb across your palm.

“Eight,” he murmured. Then, softer, “Maybe nine.”

You swallowed hard, your skin was already burning where he touched you. “Seven,” you whispered.

The heart-rate monitor betrayed you instantly, the line spiking on the distant screen and in turn, the next question appeared.

“Does their touch feel different from strangers?”

You let out a shaky breath, his fingers tracing your palm slowly, carefully, following every line like he was reading a map he had once memorized by heart. There was no adequate answer; of course? obviously? definitely?

All you knew was that you hadn’t felt alive in months and his touch had given you that long-searched feeling.

“Yes,” you admitted, voice barely holding. “It feels… good.”

Riki’s eyes darkened, almost automatically, his fingertips moved to your wrist, tracing the delicate veins there with heartbreaking gentleness— his touch was warm, slightly calloused in the way you remembered, sending shivers racing across your skin.

“It feels like the only touch that’s ever made sense,” he said quietly.

Even then, the sensors were drinking it all in—pulse racing, skin conductance rising, pupils dilating. The room felt smaller; the silk robes suddenly too thin as his fingers continued their journey, slowly gliding up your forearms, tracing the sensitive inner skin with such tenderness it made your chest ache.

You followed, your hands moving to his arms. The muscle you found beneath your palms was warm and solid; yoou traced the veins on his forearms, remembering how you used to fall asleep with your head on this exact spot. God, you’d missed it, and you hated how much you’d missed it.

After a pause, the screen asked again:

“Rate your current arousal 1-10.”

“Nine,” Riki breathed, voice cracking slightly as his hands moved higher, brushing over your shoulders— his thumbs stroked along your collarbones with aching care.

You were trembling harder now. “Eight,” you managed. The lie tasted bitter— it was definitely a good old twenty.

His hands eventually moved to your face; in one smooth motion, he cupped your cheeks with both palms, thumbs brushing away the fresh tears that had fallen. You did the same, cradling his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath your fingertips.

The touch was so intimate, so full of history, that it hurt.

Somehow, despite everything, the electricity between you only grew. Terrifying. Addictive. Making it impossible to let go even for a breaths moment. Riki’s forehead nearly rested against yours, his breath mingled with your own, “Still you,” he whispered, so softly the microphones might not have caught it. “Even after all this time… still you.”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. You simply kept touching him— tracing the line of his jaw, the shell of his ear, the slope of his neck, as if your hands were trying to memorize him all over again before the experiment could take this away too.

The automated voice cut through the charged air again, “Stage three: Remove robes. Kneel facing each other. Kiss only.”

You sat there for a long moment, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest. Riki’s hands were still cradling your face, thumbs brushing slow circles against your skin like he was afraid you might regret thi.

Even then, despite the clinical detachment of the room and the monitors quietly tracking every spike in your pulse, heat pooled low in your belly.

You looked around the room— making sure there were no cameras, or maybe you knew there weren’t any, but you just wanted to take a breath without feeling like the whole world was pressing inside your chest.

With that, you reached for the belt of your robe first, fingers trembling only slightly as you untied it. The silk whispered open, cool air kissing your bare skin and Riki watched you, dark eyes drinking in every inch like a man starved. Almost out of pure unbidden instinct, he mirrored you, shrugging the robe from his shoulders in one motion. The fabric pooled around your knees on the bed, forgotten.

God, he looked exactly the same— broad shoulders, the lean muscle that had always made you feel safe and wild at once, the faint trail of hair leading down from his navel. Your gaze traced lower before you could stop yourself, and heat flooded your cheeks.

You both shifted, kneeling now, facing each other in the center of the large bed. Knees brushing, close enough that the warmth radiating from his body made the air between you feel electric.

Then the voice prompted again: “Begin kissing. Maintain contact. Describe aloud what you missed most about the other’s body.”

It felt so silly— but you’d take anything, to feel his touch again.

Riki leaned in first, slowly, giving you every chance to pull away— but you didn’t. You met him halfway, and the first press of his lips was soft—hesitant, almost reverent, just a brush, warm and familiar, tasting faintly of salt from the tears still dying on both your cheeks.

Eventually your hands found his chest, palms flat against the steady thud of his heart. The kiss deepened gradually, his mouth opening against yours, tongue tracing your lower lip with care. A soft sound escaped you, half sigh, half whimper, and he swallowed it like it belonged to him.

“Describe it,” the voice reminded neutrally.

You pulled back just enough to speak against his mouth, breath mingling. “I missed… your hands. The way they’re big enough to cover so much of me at once.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going, fingers tracing down his arms. “And your mouth. And… and the way you used to kiss me like you were trying to crawl inside my skin.”

He made a low, wrecked sound in his throat and kissed you deeper, tongue sliding against yours in a slow, devastating rhythm that made your toes curl. His hands stayed on your face for now, but you could feel the tension in them, the restraint.

Against his will, he broke the kiss just enough to whisper, “You’re so pretty. Still so goddamn pretty it hurts to look at you, my girl—” He froze, eyes widening slightly as the old endearment slipped out. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t— fuck.”

Tears welled up again in both your eyes, mixing into the kiss as your lips met once more. Salty and desperate now, the tenderness fracturing into something raw- you tasted the apology on his tongue, felt the way his breath hitched when your hands slid up to grip his shoulders.

Even so, the kiss didn’t stop— it grew deeper, hungrier, slow drags turning into wet, open-mouthed presses that left you both breathing harder. Your nipples tightened against his chest as you leaned closer, skin on skin for the first time in eighteen months, the contact earth shattering.

Riki’s hands slid into your hair exactly the way they used to— fingers threading through the strands at the nape of your neck, tugging just enough to tilt your head how he wanted. The familiarity of it made your stomach flip as h pulled you impossibly closer, forehead pressed to yours between kisses, breath hot against your swollen lips.

“This is so fucking unfair,” he whispered, voice breaking.

The screen lit up again almost immediately, the automated voice cutting in: “Subject B: Explain why you left.”

Riki stilled against you, hands still tangled in your hair and you felt his heartbeat stutter under your palm. For a long silence, he just breathed with you, eyes closed, lips brushing yours like he was gathering strength.

Oh God. . .

Finally, he spoke, strained, each word pulled out like it cost him something vital. “I left because I was terrified I’d ruin you. Because every time we fought, I saw how much it broke you, and I convinced myself you’d be better off without me fucking it all up again. I thought… if I stayed, I’d only hurt you more. So I ran like a coward. And every single day since, I’ve regretted it.”

You swallowed hard, tears slipping free again, but you didn’t pull away— instead, your fingers traced down his chest slowly, deliberately, finding the spots you knew would make him shiver— nails grazing lightly over his nipples, then lower, following the lines of his abdomen.

In turn, Riki’s hands moved too, one staying in your hair while the other slid down your back, palm warm and possessive against your spine. He knew exactly how to touch you— still. The perfect pressure, the exact rhythm that had always undone you. His fingertips danced along your sides, then lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him so you could feel how hard he already was.

You gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, kissing you deeper, tongue stroking yours with devastating precision. He knew you like no one else ever had— the way a firm tug on your hair made you melt, the way being held tight while you trembled always pushed you closer to the edge.

And you knew him just as well. Your hand slipped between you, wrapping around his cock with a slow stroke that made him groan against your lips, hips jerking forward instinctively. You weren’t even sure if you could— or if you had to follow instructions, but undoubtedly, it would be okay.

Nobody could see what you were doing anyway, how your hand moved on his length, tugging just the way he liked, thumb swiping over his tip like it had countless times before.

Somehow, despite everything, the years apart only made the knowing dangerous,evry touch loaded with memory. Every kiss felt like coming home and setting the house on fire at the same time.

The voice returned, a third wheel in the whole situation : “Stage four: Oral exploration phase. One gives, one receives. Then switch. Maintain eye contact at all times. Verbal consent required to proceed.”

You knelt there, still pressed close to Riki, his cock hard and hot against your stomach, your own arousal slick between your thighs.

After a long silence, he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes fully. “I consent,” he whispered, voice hoarse’ his thumb brushed your lower lip, tender despite everything.

You swallowed hard, heart hammering against your ribs. “I consent,” you managed.

“Excellent. Subject B will give first. Subject A, lie back. Subject B, position yourself between her legs. Begin slowly.”

With that, Riki guided you down onto the bed, the sheets were cool against your overheated skin, a stark contrast to the fire licking through your veins and you lay back, propped slightly on your elbows so you could keep eye contact.

Riki moved with are, settling between your spread thighs, his broad shoulders pushing your legs wider. He looked up at you the entire time, eyes locked on yours.

His hands slid up your inner thighs, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there, parting you open for him. You were already wet, embarrassingly so, and the cool air made you shiver.

Riki leaned in slowly, pressing a soft kiss to the crease of your thigh first, then another higher up. His breath ghosted over your core, making your hips twitch.

“Describe what you feel, Subject A,” the voice prompted.

You hated it, you wanted it to shut up so you could focus on his mouth. But it dragged the honesty out of you, things you would’ve never said unprompted.

You bit your lip, “I feel… i feel attraction, like i want him closer.”

Riki’s eyes softened, and then his mouth was on you. A slow, broad lick from your entrance up to your clit, warm and wet and devastatingly familiar until your back arched instinctively, a broken gasp escaping your lips.

“Fuck— Riki…”

“Tell him how it feels,” the voice instructed calmly.

“It feels so good,” you whispered, voice trembling as he licked you again, slower this time, circling your clit with the flat of his tongue. “So… good.”

It made you hate how much you’d missed it. Like your body had never forgotte his.

He moaned against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. With that, he settled in deeper, arms wrapping under your thighs to hold you open, hands gripping your hips.

Riki ate you out like a man starved— long, luxurious strokes of his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal; he alternated between broad licks that covered your entire pussy and precise flicks right against your swollen clit, sucking gently, then harder.

“Subject B, how does it feel?” the voice cut in.

Riki pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny with your wetness, “She tastes so good, so sweet and tangy and so fucking addictive. I hate how much I need this— still so fucking perfect for me.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you empty like this pretty girl.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he dove back in, tongue thrusting inside you now, fucking you with it in shallow, deliberate strokes while his nose nudged your clit. You reached down, fingers threading through his hair, not pulling, just holding on as your own tears started to fall. The overload hit like a wave— love, resentment, all consuming need all crashing together.

Itd be a lie to say the pleasure didn’t build in slow, relentless waves. Riki knew exactly what to do: how to flatten his tongue and drag it up slowly, how to suck your clit into his mouth and hum, how to press two fingers inside you and curl them just right against that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. But he didn’t rush. He drew it out, edging you, pulling back whenever you got too close.

“Subject A, how does this make you feel emotionally?” the voice asked, pushing deeper into the wound.

“It makes me feel known,” you sobbed, hips rolling against his face despite yourself. “Like he still owns every part of me. It hurts— god, it hurts so good because I love him… and… and I fucking resent him and I need him so much it scares me.”

Riki whimpered against your core, the sound muffled and desperate. Tears mixed with your slick on his cheeks. as he licked broader, messier now, devouring you with filthy, wet sounds that filled the room. “My girl… you’re dripping for me. Still so responsive. I missed this pussy so much. Missed making you fall apart on my tongue.”

He didn’t even bother correcting himself this time— that’s what you were at the end of the day, his girl. No matter how far, no matter how close.

The voice continued its relentless probing: “Subject B, does performing this act stir unresolved feelings?”

“Yes,” Riki gasped between long licks, tongue circling your clit relentlessly. “It makes me remember every time I made her come like this and then held her after. It twists the knife because I threw it all away.”

You cried harder, the intimacy almost unbearable— the clinical voice forcing you to confront every sensation, every buried emotion, while Riki’s mouth worshipped you.

Your thighs trembled around his head as he slid three fingers inside you now, pumping slowly, curling, scissoring, stretching you open while his tongue flicked fast and light over your clit.

“Fuck…,” you moaned, voice wrecked. “I’m so close…”

You didn’t want it to end, you were desperate for it to last a lifetime, even as your legs shook.

Riki doubled down, sucking your clit firmly, fingers thrusting deeper, faster. The wet, obscene sounds mixed with your sobs and his muffled apologies. “Come for me, baby— please. Let me have this.”

The orgasm built like a tidal wave, slow and inevitable. He coaxed it, drawing it out for long minutes, edging you right to the brink and then easing back, only to push you higher again. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tears streamed down your face in an incoherent mess.

Love, pain and pleasure braided together so tightly you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“It’s too much— too deep. I’m gonna —fuck, Riki—”

He moaned encouragement against you and finally let you tip over. The orgasm crashed through you in powerful, rolling waves, your back arched off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as you came hard on his tongue, pulsing around his fingers. He licked you through it, gentler now, savoring every aftershock, murmuring praise and apologies into your soaked flesh.

You lay there panting, tears still falling, as the voice spoke again: “Switch. Subject A will now give. Subject B, lie back.”

God, give a girl a break.

After a long recuperation pause, you moved, limbs shaky. Riki lay back, cock achingly hard and leaking against his stomach and you knelt between his spread legs, eyes locked on his tear-streaked face. He looked wrecked already—beautifully so.

You started slowly, pressing kisses along his inner thighs, nuzzling the crease where leg met hip. His cock twitched in anticipation and you licked a long stripe up the underside, savoring the salty taste of him.

“Subject A, how does it feel,” the voice demanded.

“It feels good” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Bitter because I know exactly how he likes it.”

Riki’s hand came down to cup your cheek, thumb stroking gently even as fresh tears slipped from his eyes. You took him into your mouth gradually —first just the head, swirling your tongue around it, sucking softly; then deeper, inch by inch, until he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed slowly, one hand stroking what you couldn’t fit.

“Fuck— yes, just like that,” he groaned, hips twitching but staying controlled. “Look at you… baby…”

The voice interrupted: “Subject B, describe the sensations and emotions this evokes.”

“It feels like… fuck— i can’t, s’too much” Riki panted, eyes never leaving yours. “Her tongue is driving me insane— I missed her mouth so fucking much.”

You took him deeper, relaxing your throat, nose brushing his pelvis as you swallowed around him. Tears blurred your vision too— resentment flaring because he left, love swelling because he was here, raw need making you suck him with devotion. You pulled off to breathe, stroking him firmly with a twisting motion while your tongue laved his balls, sucking one into your mouth gently.

It made you feel so powerful and so small at the same time. Like you could ruin him and he could ruin you.

Riki moaned quietly, hand in your hair now, you returned to his cock, sucking harder, faster, but still deliberate— drawing it out. Long, slow bobs interspersed with teasing licks along the vein underneath, paying special attention to the sensitive head.

You knew every spot: the way he liked your hand twisting at the base, the way humming around him made his thighs tense.

Minutes stretched and yes, the voice kept prompting— “Subject B, does receiving this act make you confront why you left?”—forcing words between moans and sobs.

Riki’s answers grew more broken: “I left because I was scared I’d need her forever and fuck it up. Now I know I do.”

Your jaw ached a you poured everything into it— love, anger, longing— sucking him deep, stroking, worshipping. His hips started shallow thrusts, meeting your mouth.

“I’m so close but I don’t want it to stop,” Riki spoke, unprompted this time.

You redoubled your efforts, taking him as deep as possible, swallowing around him, one hand massaging his balls. Long, thorough minutes of wet heat and tight suction until his breathing grew ragged, thighs trembling.

Only when the tension became unbearable did he finally tip over, with your name on his lips and tears in his eyes. He came hard, pulsing thick and hot down your throat and you swallowed every drop, milking him gently through the long, shuddering orgasm, not pulling off until he was spent and oversensitive.

You crawled up his body afterward, both of you crying, clinging.

The voice announced a brief pause for biometric reset, but you stayed tangled together, foreheads pressed, breaths shared, the knife still twisting deep.

The automated voice returned after a brief, “Stage five: Full penetration. Timed pauses enforced. First position: Subject A on top, controlling pace. Answer researcher questions aloud. Consent required.”

Riki’s eyes met yours, dark and desperate. His cock was still hard, slick from your mouth, resting heavy against his stomach.

“I consent,” he rasped.

“I consent,” you echoed.

“Begin.”

You moved first, crawling over him with shaky limbs; straddling his hips, you braced your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart. Riki’s hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking soothing circles even as fresh tension coiled in his muscles. You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his thick length, stroking him once, twice, lining him up at your entrance.

He didn’t thrust up, he waited, eyes locked on yours, giving you control. Slowly, you sank down.

You didn’t stop until he was at the hilt, so snug where he resided, overwhelming— burning, perfect, familiar. Syllables were left to die in your mouth, falling into the back of your throat as it clogged with a shaky inhale. You sat fully seated, pelvis flush to his, trembling as your walls fluttered and clenched around every inch of him.

“Fuck… Riki,” you whispered.

The voice prompted immediately: “Do you forgive them?”

There it was, the big question. With him so deep inside of you, you couldn’t even tell if your thoughts were real or implanted by the raw pleasure. You thought about it— in the limits of your own imagination— because if you were giving him your body right now, it had to mean something, right?

You rolled your hips experimentally, a slow grind that made stars burst behind your eyes. The drag of his cock inside you, thick and hot and hitting every sensitive spot, stole your vry breath. You rose slightly and sank back down, setting a deliberate, torturous pace.

“That’s right, beautiful… take this cock.. fuck, just like that.. you’re doing so good.” he praised, thrusting up just a tiny bit.

“It feels… so full.” you gasped, tears slipping free again as he throbbed inside.

Riki groaned beneath you, hands sliding up to grip your hips, not guiding yet— just holding. “Do you forgive me?” he asked, voice breaking, echoing the researcher’s question even as the voice waited.

You rode him slower, grinding deep on every downstroke, anger and longing twisting together. Your palm came down on his chest in a sharp slap, not hard enough to truly hurt but enough to sting. “I want to,” you sobbed, rising and sinking again. “I do and I don’t. You left me empty for eighteen months.”

The indecency of the words, the shame coming with them, made you forget the very setting you were in. The pleasure taking over your entire body, submerged in everything Riki gave you until you had no choice but to shake.

He thrust up to meet you on the next drop, deeper, and you moaned loudly. “Mine,” he whispered fiercely, eyes glistening. “Even if you hate me, you’re still mine.”

You clenched around him involuntarily at the possessiveness, and he hissed. “Shh baby, I’m not going anywhere. Give me a little breathing room,” he murmured, voice strained with pleasure.

Tears streamed down your face as you alternated between presses to his chest and leaning down to kiss him like you’d die without his mouth on yours.

“Subject A, rate your emotional state,” the voice demanded mid-thrust.

Oh fuck off.

“I… fuck,” you cried out, bouncing harder. “Riki I need you to fuck me deeper— ah—until I forget you ever left.”

Riki sat up slightly, wrapping one arm around your back to pull you closer, mouth latching onto your nipple as you rode him. He sucked hard, tongue flicking, while his other hand guided your hips in a punishing rhythm. The new angle made him hit that spot inside you relentlessly— pleasure coiling tight and vicious.

The first orgasm built fast and vicious, you thighs shook as you bounced harder.

“Ah, there you go. There’s my baby. Poor thing, it’s okay, you can come,” he murmured, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

You shattered around him with a broken cry, walls pulsing and fluttering wildly as pleasure ripped through you, your nails dug into his chest, tears streaming freely. But the orgasm didn’t stop at waves of clenching— it crashed harder, sudden and wet.

You squirted around his cock for the first time in months, soaking his abdomen and the sheets beneath you in hot, pulsing gushes. The release left you shaking violently, as the pleasure blinded you.

Still, you kept moving, overstimulated and desperate, fucking yourself on his cock like you could erase the past somehow.

Riki sat up, wrapping strong arms around you, mouth latching onto your breast. He sucked hard, tongue flicking your nipple as you rode him faster.

One of his hands slid up to your throat, wrapping gently but firmly, applying just enough pressure to make your head spin in the most delicious way, vision blurring at the edges with overwhelming sensation.

“So fucking good for me… look at you, soaking my cock like this. My perfect girl.”

Riki flipped you suddenly, moving you onto all fours in one smooth motion, he knelt behind you, gripping your hips possessively. He rubbed his slick cock along your folds once, then pushed in deep.

The new angle stole what little air remained in your lungs. He felt even deeper like this— you were going to loose your mind.

Riki started thrusting immediately, possessive strokes that rocked your entire body, one hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back just right, while the other wrapped around your throat from behind, choking you lightly as he fucked you. The combination made your eyes roll back, pleasure so intense it felt like drowning and dying at the same time.

“Mine,” he moaned against your ear, fucking you harder. “Still fucking mine. Such a good girl, taking me so deep.”

You pushed back to meet him, messy and frantic, tears dripping onto the sheets below and hee reached around to rub your clit in tight, relentless circles, never slowing his punishing rhythm.

“Look at you, creaming all over my cock. So fucking pretty when you fall apart like this. My baby— always so perfect.”

“Does this feel like love or just lust?” the voice demanded, reminding you of y the current setting.

You couldn’t even answer, incoherent babbles tumbling out of your pathetic mouth but Riki grabbed your jaw, whispering in your ear, “Answer baby, come on.”

“Both,” you sobbed, voice hoarse “ah, fuck—right there. I’m gonna— fuck—”

Another orgasm tore through you without mercy . Your body convulsed, another rush of wetness flooding out around him as you squirted harder, thighs quaking uncontrollably. Riki’s praise never stopped, filthy and tender all at once. “That’s right, baby… fuck, just like that.. you’re doing so good. Let it all out for me.”

The peak left you shaking, barely holding yourself up on trembling arms, your body gave out completely, collapsing forward. Riki followed you down, chest pressed to your back, still buried deep.

His thrusts grew erratic, desperate, and impossibly deeper. You could feel every twitch and throb of his cock inside you as he chased his own release; hiss breathing turned ragged against your ear, hot and uneven, broken groans vibrating through his chest.

The hand in your hair tightened, the one on your throat loosened into something almost protective as his hips snapped forward one final time, burying himself to the absolute hilt.

Riki came with a shattered, guttural moan of your name, his entire body seizing against yours. Thick, hot pulses of cum flooded deep inside you, each powerful spurt accompanied by a helpless roll of his hips, as if he couldn’t stop trying to push even deeper.

You felt every single jet filling you until it started to leak out around his cock with every tiny after-thrust. His cock twitched and pulsed for long, drawn-out moments, the release seemingly endless as he poured months of pent-up longing into you. His thighs trembled violently against the backs of yours, muscles locked tight, a full-body shudder ripping through him as the pleasure wrung him dry.

“Fuck— baby… still you,” he gasped brokenly against your neck, voice cracking with as the last weak spurts emptied him completely. He stayed buried to the hilt, grinding slowly through the aftershocks, savoring the tight, wet heat of your pussy still fluttering around his oversensitive length.

Fresh tears slipped from his eyes onto your skin as he held you close, body draped over yours like he was afraid you’d regret the second he pulled out.

See… studies show a lot of things, for example that long-term partners can remain neurologically significant long after a breakup. They say it’s often a question of whether unresolved emotional attachment predicts involuntary sexual responsiveness between old partners.

But what it doesn’t say though, is how easily that same attachment can twist into something far more dangerous— how six hours in a sterile room can hook itself so deeply under your skin that it becomes impossible to ever truly pull free again.

The experiment ended exactly on schedule, six short hours later, the doors unlocked. Dr. Ellis’s voice offered neutral congratulations and payment confirmations.

You and Riki dressed in silence, eyes lingering too long, hands brushing with the kind of accidental-on-purpose touch that said everything words couldn’t.

When you finally stepped out into the real world, the city lights felt too bright, the air too cold, the absence of his body against yours already unbearable.

Somehow, that single night cracked you both open wider than the original breakup ever had. But it’s not like you hadn’t expected it just a little bit.

In the weeks that followed, the addiction set in slowly at first, then all at once. You told yourself it was just closure, just one text to check if he got home safely. Just one late-night call because you couldn’t sleep without hearing his voice.

But soon the messages grew longer, the calls stretched into early mornings, and the excuses became paper-thin.

Riki? He was no better.

He started “accidentally” showing up at places he knew you frequented— the cafe where you took your coffee exactly the way he still remembered, the bookstore you loved on quiet afternoons.

Each encounter left you both raw and starving for more and more and more.

Even then, you tried to fight it. You blocked his number once, only to unblock it three hours later when the emptiness felt louder than any self-respect.

He showed up at your door at 2 a.m. one night, eyes hollow, whispering that he just needed to see you. You let him in. That night turned into another desperate, tear-soaked reunion against your hallway wall, his hand around your throat and your nails down his back, both of you chasing that same devastating intensity the experiment had forced upon you.

Undeniably, the codependency only deepened. You became each other’s secret again— sneaking into hotel rooms, fucking in the back of his car like teenagers, meeting in abandoned parking lots just to feel his hands on you. The sex grew darker, more possessive, he’d choke you a little harder, hold you down a little longer, whispering “mine” like a vow and a curse while you cried and came and begged for more— addicted to the way he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him sane.

Months blurred together. You stopped dating other people entirely and so did he.

Friends noticed the change— how distracted you were, how you’d disappear for hours with no explanation. But nothing else filled the void.

The experiment had proven what your heart already knew: no one else would ever jnow your body the way he did. No one else could make you break and sob and feel so painfully alive.

Eventually, the sneaking stopped being enough.

One evening he showed up with a suitcase and the quiet admission that his apartment felt like a tomb without you in it. You let him stay the night, then the week and then… indefinitely.

The dangerous liaison wrapped around both of you like chains you no longer wanted to escape. Fights still happened— ugly, tearful, screaming matches that ended with him fucking you against the nearest surface until the anger melted into desperate “I love you”s and “never leave me again”s.

You were linked now, deeper than before, codependent in the most beautiful and terrifying way.

The study had been meant to observe intimacy, istead, it had created an obsession neither of you could—or wanted—to break.

In the quiet moments after sex, when his cum was still leaking down your thighs and his arms held you like a fragile thing, you sometimes wondered if this was ruin or salvation.

But even then, with his heartbeat steady against your back and his whispered praises in your ear, you knew the truth: you were his, and he was yours.

And that felt like the only kind of knowing worth having

something you also weren't in a hurry to do was to tell them about this particular con. being cheated wasn't always the case, of course; most of the sacrifices simply came with spent time, actions taken in the place of another; in the grand scheme of things, something as simple as a name could arguably be considered a small one.

other sacrifices, however, were greater than some. including those that led to being suspended in the air on a hot summer day in the backyard, piecing together the last of the play area for loved ones. though even as you swiped the sweat of labor from your brow with the back of your hand, you couldn't truly find it in your heart to feel wronged, or regret it. and maybe that had been the most important lesson of all to bestow upon them; to know that no matter how many or how often compromises needed to be made; you'd undoubtedly do it all over again, all in the name of love for your family.

it is the same love that sends rumbles the sturdy tree slightly as he announces his presence, pushing up against the trapdoor of the treehouse. the blonde hair peeks through the flap, then the gentle eyes of your husband, swimming with their own sea of sacrifices, come into view. a smile, though undoubtedly tired, follows as he pulls himself into the structure. "hey, baby." the deep voice of your husband echoes along the walls of the enclosed space.

"hey, ki," you respond, eyeing the way his sweat-glistened arms clutch a blanket in their grasp as he settles in. "break time?"

he nods, placing the rolled blanket, then two cans on the floor, waving you over with his hand. "c'mere," he says, unrolling the blanket for you to lie upon. "don't need you getting any more splinters."

you follow his lead, remaining seated against the wall as you help him undo the blanket. you didn't mind standing; the treehouse certainly permitted it in its height for you —and riki, sort of—, though your legs had felt like jelly, even as you crawled toward the soft fabric of the blanket to sit. it's a miracle riki's still worked after he'd done most of the heavy lifting, and after the recent house run, you couldn't help but be even more grateful.

"is that.....is that lemon?" you gasp, flopping belly first onto the safety of the blanket. "i thought we were out?"

he smiles, following your eyes to the cool drink, before popping the cap of the spindrift and passing it to you. "this was the last one." he says jokingly, sliding next to you in the seated position. "had to reach aaaalllll the way in the back to fish it out for you." he stretches the word dramatically, his sharp eyes glimmering in amusement as he watches you bring your lips to the can.

the first sip is magical, flooding your aching body with a sensation of near instant relief. then, the first of the energy that's returned by the refreshment is quickly spent on egging on his humor. "the things you do for love, hm?"

"the things i do for love." he reitirates, leaning down you place a kiss upon your forehead. then, pressing his fingers along your back, he utters, just as humourously, as if somewhat amused, "girls are out cold, by the way."

you let the snort fly as your head falls into the space between arms. at this rate, they ought to be; having kept the two of you on your feet since before noon. "how long do you think it'll last?"

his eyes flicker to the arched ceiling, as if truly pondering the thought before falling back upon you with a knowing look. "i give it thirty minutes."

"how gracious of you." you respond, chuckling. in all honesty, it would only be a matter of time before they were up and running again. it's why now, you enjoy the feeling of riki's hands rubbing along your shoulder blades, applying pressure as he makes his way down your back to ease the tension. "god, ki." you mutter in appreciation of the gesture. "that feels amazing."

he hums in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes off the way the sun from the sawed-out window collects in streaks across your back. from below his seated position, you offer a soft smile, propping your head upon your arms to admire his features as well.

they're beautiful, of course; even when covered in sweat and a mask of exhaustion, his angular face glows with delight. the brown orbs of his dote all the same; following each and every tiny movement you have to offer as he pushes into your back.

you can't help but let out a soft moan as he presses into an ache that's been bothering you since the start of the project, giving way to the sensation of ease that snakes its way along your nerves. your eyes flutter slightly at the feeling. "mph, ki."

he continues to press deeper, shifting his body closer to better do so. "mm," he hums, his voice dropping some as he works. "that good, pretty?"

you nod slowly, a whimper tumbling from your lips as he presses deeper into your lower back, sending a ripple of euphoria from below the pit of your stomach in all directions. his reaction to the notion is anything but subtle. as his sweat-glistened muscles move against your body, you begin to see the faint press of a hardening member against his pants.

he leans down, pressing another kiss to your face, before whispering in your ear. "look so pretty, mamas." he groans, his fingers moving dangerously low for something as merely innocent as a back massage. the implication is undoubtedly tempting, want filling the space in your belly, and evidently his, too. if not inferred by the way his fingers dance along your heat-soaked skin, most certainly by the way his lips wet themselves between kisses, the low grunt behind the petname he'd given you as he shifts even lower.

it was as dangerous as it was alluring, the thought. because one of the first times he called you 'mamas', inevitably led to him making you one. and while you had been pondering the thought of his promise with regard to offering up initials for each baby earlier, it was in no way, shape, or form something you wanted to make do on.

especially not now, drenched in sweat with your shirt and overalls clinging to your slick skin like a vice. with your hair pulled into nothing more than a practical work-efficient style; no dress, all mess, it was the farthest from sexy you could have felt.

"ki," you plea, willing the warmth of his hands to travel back upwards. "maybe we shouldn't—" you slip the words between kisses that he plants along your face. "i should shower first—"

a chuckle slides from his plump lips, and to know your husband was to know that laugh. the one that gave sheer irreverence for the statement made; anything he deemed remotely silly or frivolous, as if the idea of you smelling bad was the least of his concern.

"ki, i—"

"smell fine, hun." he insisted, sliding onto the blanket in the same manner as you; lying rather than sitting to fit his body closer to yours. "c'mere, hm?"

the words in your racing mind nearly fade to nothing as he cups your cheek, tilting it up to meet eyes with his. the purse of his lips as he looks at you stuns you silent, the same way the furrow of his brow in quiet admiration sends your heart into a frenzy. the same window you worried would be a hazard upon installation proved to be an excellent choice in hindsight. it allows the sunlight to spill onto the dazzling features of the magnificent man you married, casting him in a light so sincere you'd sworn the image had been plucked from the heavens.

the awe-inducing sight shifts into a feeling as he brings his lips to yours, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he moves against yours. though agonizing, you break the kiss to mutter the sentence that finally makes its way back to your head. "ki, the girls—"

"are still fast asleep, yeah?" he replies, hooking his finger around the loop of your overalls, tugging you toward him. "'saw 'em on the way out, right on the couch."

you push against his chest before he can so much as close the deathly slim gap between you both. "and how are we supposed to get to the bedroom?"

you picture riki's large frame alongside yours, creeping past the quiet hum of the television with legs just as wobbly as your own, practically sprinting to the bedroom in a manner that derived anything but futile results.

his bright teeth sink into his lower lip, and a mischievous glint makes its way into his sharp eyes as he narrows them a bit. "who said anything about leaving?"

you don't have time to give a response before he's kissing you again, the subtle snake of his fingers making their way along the strap of your overalls before tugging at them. "we can stay right here," he mutters lowly, between sloppy kisses. "you can stay just like that."

"ki, the neighbors," you whisper, as if they could hear you now. you prop up on your elbows, as if to convey urgency. "the window is still—"

"then i guess—" he says, making excellent use of his time as he manages to snake away the other shoulder of your onepiece. he mirrors your tone, only with a grin as he utters his next words. "we'll just have to be quiet."

"also," he shifts himself so that he's hovering over your belly-down figure, then tugs at your straps until they fall upon your waist. "never wear these again, please."

a defense for your tattered overalls bubbles in your throat, knowing they were intentionally picked to do work, not to be plucked off by hands that couldn't help themselves. but they don't get the chance to escape as he surprises you with a hook of his leg over your body, leaning down from behind your back as if to presume prone.

"stay just like that, pretty," he coos, brushing his lips against your ear as he presses down, only with his body this time rather than his hands alone. he drops his elbows alongside yours, as to give easier access to his lips. and when the pair find yours again, the pressing thoughts and worries of the outside world begin to slip. and for one, dangerously fleeting moment, as you feel the warmth of his body encasing yours, it feels as if they truly could be put at bay.

"30 minutes, hm?" he says, his voice thick with want as he wills any more words of reassurance to ease your concerns. "how's that sound?" the words are eager, dripping with desire as he places a sloppy kiss along your neck from behind.

dangerous, you think. as dangerous as the hum of his tone sent shivers along your skin, the ache of desire in his words accompanied by the message. the past week, amidst the sea of responsibilities, a sacrifice you'd undoubtedly made time and time again had been the time alone with your husband. often compromised by conflicting schedules and responsibilities of parenthood, it had been so rare to truly be with him, and him alone.

but suspended six feet in the air within the newly established treehouse, it was inevitable. pressed against the plush blanket under the heat of riki's body, you knew of only one barrier between the intimacy you'd been craving: the very clothes you bore.

still, you considered the number he'd provided to be rather optimistic, you settled on the feeling of a more realistic twenty; though if both instances had been proposed about at least three minutes ago, it was safer to say you had seventeen...sixteen, even. perhaps fifteen. or maybe less than that........

screw it, you thought, leaning into his touch as his kisses trailed along your neck, offering low bites and nibbles in between. you pushed up against his lower body, earning a low groan from him as he used his non-stabilizing hand to steady your hips. "shiittt,"

the hiss he emits is the catalyst for it all; the weight lifts from your back as he pulls himself up, fingers moving desperately to unfasten his belt from behind you. "fuck, baby," he grunts, and you feel the desperation in his actions as his frantic hands pull at the straps from around your waist. "think we can make it happen?"

your answer is the shimmy from the pants of overalls he tugs at, assisting him as he gets them from around your waist and off of your legs. "mhm," you verbalize, lifting your bottom —now in nothing more than a thin pair of panties— up toward the air. then, glancing very briefly at him, as if to shoot a warning. "maybe just.....not in thirty."

at your words, his palm finds the curve of your ass, gripping it with the fervor of a man who'd practically been itching for the moment, as if every stolen night, mismatched schedule, and shorthanded sacrifice had led up to the very moment. "you know i all i need is ten."

the weather has a sense of humor, the way the wind shoots through the window, ripping at the hot day and sending shivers along your wet skin as the rugged words leave his mouth. "fuck, ki." you moan, tilting your head back again, longer this time to ensure a glance at his undoing.

it's nothing short of magnificent, the sight. you could spend countless years with riki and never feel anything but a burning madness in your core as you watch the way his ravenous eyes rake your body in lust. the subtle slackening of his jaw and pinch between his brow as if in disbelief that he was and had actually been married to you.

"god, i'm lucky." he groans, reinforcing the truth his features already gave away. he brings his hand down against your ass in a sharp strike, the sound echoing along the walls of what was soon to be, —if not already— a permanent playhouse.

the sensation is hot against your skin, forcing your eyes shut and you to bury your face into the blanket to muffle the yelp that would come. sawdust floods your senses, the woodsy aroma of the incomplete floor devouring every jagged breath.

riki doesn't attempt to pull off your shirt, or even his own. he simply tugs his pants down, before pulling your panties to the side, welcoming a gentle breeze along the slick of your cunt. the light must hit the glisten almost as wonderfully as it had struck his features, because when you look back, his eyes, filled with want, dance hungrily along your bottom, as if aching to please you.

eat with your eyes first: riki exemplified this to a t, when time permitted. he'd spent hours between devouring you with his eyes if he could, dangerous looks from across the counter, deep glances in between mundane household tasks, all before he'd ultimately end up succumbing to the ache to pull you into any nearby room and strip you bare.

and you'd let him; usually of course. though in this moment, time hadn't been on your side. so, with another rock against his now fully erect cock, you feel a plea sliding of your lips as your core pulses with the need to be close. "ki," you breathed, urging him to bridge the gap. "ki please."

your begging seems to be the only thing to snap him from the lust-induced trance he'd entered. in a moment's notice, he grips your hips, then the width of his cock as he lines himself up, uttering low words full of want as he shallows the slick lips of your cunt. "fuck, baby, m'sorry." he whispers. "just so damn pretty."

the pressing warmth of his tip glides between the entrance of your cunt allowing the shared moisture of collective arousal and sweat to spread along your pussy lips and clit. the sensation causes your already weak knees to buck, trembling amidst your already crumbling disposition. you remained somewhere between doggy style and prone bone as he teased your aching clit, though at the same moment on an entirely different plane of existence.

you're brought back somewhat by his slim fingers taking an agonizing pace to roll the fleshy nub of your clit, then more pressure along your entrance by his cock. another hiss, shaky and delicate tumbles from his lips as he presses deeper to fill the space between your legs with the width of his erection. it earns a low squelching noise from the moisture along where your skin meets his, and your already weak legs feel tested as they try to support the first thrust.

"shiitt, ki," you gasp at the instant feeling of pleasure his length brings, the familiar splitting of his cock against your core as he presses deeper, rendering all thoughts useless. a moan burns against your throat, one you manage to silence at the recurrence of one very vital one; that the possibility of your neighbors hearing you is very plausible.

riki seems to notice this, the smirk evident in his voice as he pushes deeper, uttering his next words. "mm, you got it pretty," he coos, rubbing faster, tighter circles about your sensitive clit. "stay quiet for me, hm?"

a breathy whimper manages to make its way out upon the change in tempo, your hips bucking to chase the pleasure his fingers encourage. an involuntary spasm around his cock from the sensation that floods the nerves of your pussy follows, only heightening the rush of pleasure. the subtle rise in volume of your moans simply can't be helped as his fingers move, even if muffled by the blanket you hurriedly attempt to cover them with. "fu.....fu...ck, ki," you choke, between breaths.

your attempts grow futile as the rhythm of his hips moving against yours only aids in the string of rising expression. if he means to completely undo you in under ten minutes, he's well on track with the speed at which his digits move against your clit. and if somehow your mouth —agape, humming vibrations of bliss into the blanket below— could remain quiet; your body itself couldn't suppress the songs of pleasure they'd sing to him as his hands and cock alike brought you closer to the edge.

the low squelch of slick grows to an echo amidst the persistent slap of his balls against your pussy. it was undeniable; a devastating —and increasingly loud— display of the ache of shared desire you couldn't contain nor quiet down. the same way his hips hurriedly moved to meet yours in a desperately loud dance that chased the feeling of lust, pleasure, and you, you, you.

"damn, mamas," he seethed, and you could hear the subtle fraying in his voice, the teetering restraint of his own volume threatening to snap as he stretched every depth, curve, and warmth of your walls. "so......fu...ckin'......good, baby."

if not for squeezed shut eyelids buried into the depths of the cotton blanket, you could most certainly picture riki's expression as he rammed into from behind. it was the one he'd always wear upon his undoing. one you'd grown familiar with when you'd merely been dating, had grown quite accustomed to over the course of the honeymoon, and one you find solace in during quiet sessions before work, and in odd hours of the night.

a tormented look about his features as he buried himself into the heat of your pussy, clinging to and desperately trying to catch the feeling of his restraint, as rapidly as any sign of it began to slip. a quiver of his voice, a devastating knit between his brows, the vastly growing break between words as he'd chase the connection only your body could bring as he dragged his cock between your depths again, and again, and again.

riki, as if on the same train of thought, slows down his fingers, moist with effort and arousal to bring them toward your waist. "mph, fu....uck" he groans, tapping it as to signal movement. "wanna see you,"

the words usher a flurry of movement, with heat-induced sluggishness, though with enough urgency to convey desperation. within seconds of your back being pressed against the heat of the blanket, he's inside of you again, rocking the same desperate rhythm as a shudder races through him. "my.....fuckin'.....god," he croaks, fingers sinking deeper into your hips with each thrust.

he wears it almost as well as the sunlight along his golden features, dripping in beads of sweat, the expression. the one you could undoubtedly recognize, even if it rips a gasp of shock each time it sits among his delicate features. only this time, it's far more brutal than usual.

but only because you can viscerally see and feel the struggle in his movements; how hard he's trying to keep your body in pleasure without sinking too deeply into his own. he'll fail, of course: he always does. almost always ends up succumbing to the wave your body brings, his restraint slipping faster than the handle he can get on yours. subtle smirks grow unstable, lips as shaky as the breaths that leave them, and you feel your heart jolt at the gradual process. your fingers drift up to grasp his arms as he fucks you, trying your best to bite back the yelps that leave your lips. "ngh, fuuck!"

the building pleasure just below your belly twists upon the image of his plump lips trembling in pleasure hits a tipping point, and while unsure of how much time you've torn at, it's clear that it won't be long before you're spent. face up on the blanket rather than burrowed into it, a string of labored gasps, in between poorly contained whiny moans leave your lips as riki meets the core of your being in an almost metronomic sequence. "ki....ki," you choke out between moans, bound to a dizzying state of pleasure by the drag of his cock. "i'm.....so...fuck, i'm...so...close."

his legs spread to support him leaning down to hover closer to your body; his lips dragging along sensitive skin to mark. "i know, baby, i know," he utters, and at the tightening of his muscles, you know he feels the same. "can you stay quiet for me?" he grunts, the whispers dancing along your skin. "hm?"

and to your credit, there's an attempt made at satisfying words. but even getting out a hum of acknowledgment seems to be challenging within a reasonable volume. "mph!" you cry, biting your lip back to quit the stretch of pleasure that screams to flee from your mouth. "mh.....mhm,"

but the coil only tightens, the same way your walls do around him, in the same semblance of your aching throat; tightening and burning and itching before letting a string of moans from them.

it is only when riki clamps his hand along your mouth that you realize how loud they must have been. a soft, wrecked plea behind whimpers etching his throat "please......baby, please," he moans, slick hand curling around your lips.

and while this particular cry is desperate, you know it's not out of reverence for neighbors, nor for anyone outside the wooden walls of the structure. at the sight of his trembling lips, you know it's one for his sake; as if he needs you to quiet down— not for fear of being heard alone, but because every single noise, whisper, or shudder from your beneath his body threatens to send him over.

it's only further proven in the way his head tilts away from your body writhing beneath him, the squint of his eyes shut to block out any movement; the desperate clawing at his arms, the bounce of your clothed tits as he rocks into you; as if anything could set him off.

the desire is shared; the awareness that you both don't have much time in the same vein as wanting to remain together, lost in the feeling for as long as possible. his throat itches with a moan of his own, and even as his body grows to a ragged pace against yours; you know he doesn't want to be over yet. wishes to remain in that moment —quite literally suspended in air— free of outside obligations, sacrifices, the duties of parenthood. to be only with, amongst, and plunged in the depths of his doting wife, you alone.

but it's the overwhelming rush of euphoria that rips at the shared moment, replacing the feeling of connection with an intense jolt along your nerves. the orgasm hits sharply, your arms tightening along his in a slippery attempt to find grounding. a cry escapes your lips, and while riki's hand doesn't do much to console it as is, the tremor in it would suggest he's given up completely. "fu.....ck!"

his dark eyes open just long enough to see your undoing, before they squeeze themselves shut in pleasure as his shorly follows. "shhittt, hun i'm right—" his lips twist in bliss, shuddered gasps interrupting him at the way your pussy spasms. "i'm right.....fuc.....kin' there,"

you feel the tightening of his body against yours, watch in awe as the last of his resolve slips away, his mouth opening as if welcoming the flood you've brought. "fuu…ck, baby," he echoes, the coil snapping in one, devastating thrust. the single thread of his being erupts in a drawn-out groan that he lets out through a series of swears. "shh...ittt......fuck! fuuuuucckk,"

in complete and utter disregard for the noise level, his hand slips from your mouth, letting the shared symphony spill amongst the walls as you both ride out the high. "my.....fu.....cking god," he moans, clothed chest meeting yours as he succumbs to the weight of bliss.

your moans quiet into whimpers as the aftershocks swarm you, the feeling of warmth as welcome as the kisses he plants along your salty skin. you smile into the quiet affirmations he whispers, letting your slick lids flutter and fall over your orbs. "mpphh," a quiet sigh of contentment leaves your lips.

"i love you," your husband utters between heavy breaths, one of the many murmurs against the sensitive skin of your neck. "pretty mamas."

still smiling, your hand raises to bring your fingers through his honey blonde fringe to give the soft strands a gentle rake. "i love you, too, ki." you hum the words as he melts into your touch, head falling against the damp shirt. then, at the remembrance of most certainly having an audience along the string of homes down the road. "I really tried this time, promise."

a sharp snort escapes his lips, as if, in the very moment you mention it, he suddenly recalls the world outside of you. outside of the walls of the treehouse and the bubble of husband and wife. "screw 'em," he utters lowly, shoulders finally coming to a slow as his breath evens.

your hand leaves his hair to offer a playful swat along his arm. a silent apology to the neighbors for each rowdy night and rushed, boundless expression of passion that the walls or windows struggled to contain. It would be a miracle if, after the treehouse was built, you'd be able to look them in the eye. "is it too much to hope....that maybe...." you wince. "they didn't hear us?"

he lifts his head up at the comment, almost as smoothly as he does his thick brow. "hun, that's a biiig maybe."

the stretch in his syllable is exaggerated as before, though it rings with the clarity of a man spent; too tired from labor and love to lie. he brings his hand to yours to provide some semblance of comfort, and the expression on his features tells you he'd found peace, even a bit of humor in it all. the humor is something you still find yourself searching for and waiting for, just as you do for the other shoe to drop. because if the neighbors undoubtedly heard you, then the noise most certainly had a chance to wake up......

the thought doesn't even come to mind before the slide of the patio door does, followed by the excited patter of small steps. the walls of the home, if not excellent at being impervious to noise outside of it; could do nothing against the intuition of your kids. a sense, riki had told you they'd had. one that always let them know when their father had been specifically wanting alone time with you. and to his credit, most times; he'd be right. he'd gotten their idiosyncrasies down to a t; managed to expel a nearly comically accurate timeframe for exploitation

so when the other shoe does drop in the form of your girls excitedly squealing from below about the new structure, the humor of it finally follows shortly after. and as riki groans, lifting his head up from your chest before offering a peck upon your lips, you know that you wouldn't change a thing. not your perfectionist husband, nor the hot day you'd chosen with him to finish construction; nor circumstances that cause him to shimmy into his boxers, then pants as he lifts from the blanket.

After hell week of classes, this is just what you needed. Fruity drinks, ridiculous conversation, and much missed downtime as music plays loudly in the background while your other friends drift about just as (if not more) plastered than you.

It wasn’t necessarily rare for you to be at parties but it was for Riki as he was always the more introverted one in your friendship. Not like anyone would be able to point that out as fact right now if they payed attention to you two tucked away on the couch as he passionately pleads his case.

Usually instead of drinking out, he’d rather drink in. It was simpler that way. Nobody trying too hard, nobody misconstruing everything and anything he’d say— just you, his interests and his peace. How you managed to drag him out with you tonight is a mystery that will remain unsolved.

The smell of his cologne and one too many shots permeates the warm air and the faith you have in your dress is nothing short of astounding as you fold one of your legs under you, the other resting on top of Riki’s foot while he finishes your drink for you— scrunching his nose before smacking his lips.

“Too sweet.” You stick your tongue out at him before swiping his drink— downing the bitter liquid out of spite.

To others, you both probably come off as more than what you are because of how close you are. Touchy enough to raise more than a few eyebrows. You aren’t though and you two never have been , it’s just how things have always been— it’s the way you’ve always been.

Close.

You both learned to ignore the stupid questions and side eyes from a society that just didn’t understand. Assumptions that because you’re both hot and tall and are basically always together that you must be fooling around.

You weren’t.

Comfort plus proximity shouldn’t be demanded to equal sex.

Cutting Riki off with a dramatic groan, you stand by your own argument.

“I’m saying guys who don’t have one exist! And that style is completely valid.” Scoffing, he doesn’t say anything for a few beats, content with massaging your leg hes pulled into his lap. Your head starts to swim as you lean back against the couch.

You’re not giving a second thought to the warm rings on his fingers wrapped around your calf, Riki’s thumb stroking your ankle absentmindedly. So used to his touch that you don’t even flinch. He’s never given you reason to. Just when you think you should’ve ate more before drinking so much, he asks— low voice full of curiosity and something that could be dangerous; plump lips tilted in a lazy grin.

“Then do you have one?”

“Huh?”

Riki laughs, jerking his chin up at you. “You heard me. Do you have one? A thing.”

In the long course of your friendship, you’ve talked about everything. Anything. Even the nothing in between but this was uncharted territory. It was also fun. The sudden intensity has your nerves going haywire— making you almost giddy as another drunken giggle spills out of you.

“Why do you wanna know?” Riki shrugs.

“Following your logic so humor me.” You roll your eyes as if contemplating before shaking your head at him, barely holding back a smile at the way he honest to god pouts.

“Come on! Pleaaasee? I’ll be your best friend?” You snort at that and the sound widens the grin on Riki’s lips, hands moving more incessantly as he whines and whines until you give in.

Motioning him closer with pretty nails that he paid for, he comes. Breathing in the sugar of your perfume as blown eyes stare into his lidded ones. The sound of partying around you has you dropping your voice to a conspiring whisper against his parted lips with how close to you he is.

He’s pretty. You think not for the first time but anyone with eyes can tell that Riki Nishimura is objectively gorgeous.

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

Still, nothing more than platonic interest as he nods, face flushed from the alcohol, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he whispers back,

“Yeah. ‘S our secret.”

Taking a deep breath that’s more his air than your own, you tell him.

“I’ve always thought anal was hot.”

Your smile is way too bright for what just came out of your mouth and more importantly, you two shouldn’t even be having this conversation as hammered as you are and yet—

Riki chokes, brows raising higher by the second. Jaw dropped like he can’t believe it once what you said truly registers. Looking you over one more time and he realizes he definitely can. “You ever done it before?” You shake your head no as the playful atmosphere shifts.

Heated but not quite on fire.

“Then what do you like so much about it if you’ve never done it?” His focus is completely zeroed in on you and it’s intense. Shifting to feign some sort of normalcy, you reach up to play with his hair.

“I mean I’ve done— have toys and stuff but I guess I just like the completely taken-ness of it? Of someone fucking both of my holes because they own both of my holes and—“,

“Because you’re a slut and you’d let them?” The low rasp is whispered directly in your mouth and the sharpness of the jab short circuits you. Riki’s called you names before and you never minded but the way he was doing it now made you want.

Earliers warmth begins to simmer low in your stomach, temperature rising. Still, you beam back at him, shameless as ever as you bat pretty lashes.

“Exactly. You know me so well.” Burying his face into your neck, he growls in your ear— rough and primal and you gasp; holding his shirt that much tighter. Moving to look into your eyes again, this time it’s there.

Neither of you say anything.

Riki’s head is still reeling from inebriation and the image of you fucking your asshole with toys you bought and never told him about while you’re fighting unconsciousness with wet panties and a content smile when—

“Yo, Niki!”

Turning his head, his friend James walks in the room. He notices the position you’re in but doesn’t say anything because he’s long since come to terms with the fact that you two aren’t like that. To him it’s unbelievable because if he had a pretty girl best friend with great style and an even better ass, he’d be all over that but to each their own.

“We’re about to go get into a couple rounds of flip over, wanna be on my team?”

Riki breaks into a grin. “I’m there, hold on”, he turns to you; kissing both your cheeks until you whine in tired irritation, pushing his face away.

“There she is— where’s your phone?” You’re ready to pass out or pee but you’re nice enough to reach inside your dress and hand him your cell before you do. Typing in your password, he sends a quick text to your other close friend Esther telling her to come pick you up because you’re clearly done for the night.

Meanwhile, his other friend Heeseung has also come to see what the hold up is as Riki helps you to your feet.

“Hey— I’m gonna go play a few games with the guys but Esther is on her way to come pick you up. Be good, okay baby?” You pout, clearly displeased by the very one sided choices made.

“I’m leaving?” Riki puffs out an amused laugh.

“Yes, I’d take you home but I’ve been drinking too so it’s not safe.” Another huff, this time you push your hair back too, lashes fluttering sweetly as you whine out,

“But I haven’t even been fucked yet.” James head snaps up, jaw dropped at the same time Riki’s eyes widen but Heeseung is quicker than the both of them, moving to you with his lips curved in an entirely too tempting smile.

“I could definitely do that for you if you’d like baby—“,

“Hmm! And that’s enough”, Riki cuts in and has you over his shoulder in record time. Sending a look to Heeseung that says ‘don’t push it’.

“Life already has her covered in that department— slow music and everything but thanks.” Walking out of the room, you wave bye to Heeseung. Wasted, tits threatening to come out any second and missing an earring while your dress has ridden up to the point where your bare ass cheek is on Riki’s jaw and Heeseung?

He waves back.

A couple minutes later Esther is there to get you, you go home while Riki stays and your earlier moment is forgotten as a fireball induced episode.

Weeks go by.

You two still hang out, you still go shopping, Esther still tells you you can ditch him at any time to bump coochies eternally with her but Riki still hasn’t forgotten what you told him that night you were so drunk that you swore you were 30 feet tall. The way you looked, the way you smelled— glossy lips parted in a devastating smile as you whispered,

“I’ve always thought anal was hot.”

Sends blood to his dick every time. It’s like your voice haunts him along with that short strapless dress and the soft plumpness of your ass when you were hoisted over his shoulder. Hes reluctant to admit that he did not like Heeseung or anyone hitting on you for that matter. Which is strange because you’ve told him about your hookups before and he’s mentioned a few of his own but he’s never seen you in that way so why?

He thinks he’s subtle trying to figure it out but he’s not.

In other words, you notice.

Riki has always had a staring problem but these days it’s become a chronic condition of his. Not just the staring but the touching.

He’s always touched you, but now he touches you like he’s looking for something, large hands constantly feeling over you. Palming your thighs, waist, neck, shoulders, hips and even your ass before smoothing up your back.

Stepping back a bit so you can look at him, the silent pressure baring down on you from the weight of his stare is unnerving.

“Niki”, you swallow down your nerves, “Is everything okay?”

You two just got back to his place from the mall, there was a new drop he wanted to get and you needed a place to show off your newest heart-shaped heels. And it had been nice but something just felt stilted.

You don’t know it but looking into your eyes, all he can picture is you on all fours playing with both your holes as you writhe dazed and needy trying to cum.

He’s touching you again, standing so close he can count the glitters scattered on your skin from your perfume. Wordlessly, he pulls you back into the hug, face buried in your throat. You shiver when he inhales, warm breath tickling you as you cautiously return the embrace. He’s touchy but he’s normally not so…clingy. Maybe something happened that he’s not ready to talk about? Or maybe it’s just been a rough wee—

“I like this top.” He mumbles, fingers brushing the hem of your arguably indecent shirt. That was just your style though. Where he was baggy, you were skimpy.

“Thanks—“,

“Like the skirt too. Where’d we get it?”

“Ed Hardy.”

“Mmm…”

Now, you’re worried.

“Okay— what’s up?” Moving back again, you’re quick to put out your hand to keep the distance when he tries to move in again.

“What are you talking about?” He’s immediately defensive. You huff.

“I mean what’s with you?” Riki stays quiet so you persist. “You’ve been so… I don’t know— weird lately. Like there’s something you’re holding back and I know”, you keep going but louder when he opens his mouth to speak, “I know I’m a lot of things but I am not dumb.”

He calls your name but you’re so fed up you’re shaking. You know that he knows how much you hate being purposefully kept in the dark.

“What is it you aren’t telling me?” Your faces crumples when he stays silent, shaking his head.

“Do you not want to be friends with me anym—“,

“No!” You jump at his sudden volume, some of the hurt easing off your face and you let him pull you in again, dropping his head on your shoulder. Overly aware of the way he can’t seem to keep off of you.

He breathes out something like a tired laugh, low and raw with hunger.

“Baby.”

Your breath hitches.

“Do you really not remember?” Goosebumps break out along your arms when you feel him nose up your jaw to your ear, kissing it with all the slow heat of a starved hellhound finally allowed to eat. Your voice comes out shaky, nothing like yourself as your heart pounds wildly.

“R-remember wh—“,

“Exactly.” What little bit of your bearings you were trying to gather scatter again when you feel tongue, sloppy and hot lapping at your throat before plump lips suck at your jaw.

“And here it’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

It’s like being struck by lightning, how fast arousal burns through you. Igniting every nerve with a wicked heat. You squirm, trying to fight the way you’re actively melting against your best friend of all people. Riki groans when you say his name. A breathy, confused little thing that has him chubbing up in his pants.

“That night”, he pauses to breathe you in again. Moving like he’s drunk— he’s all over you, “At Suihiro’s party”, you admittedly remember close to nothing about that night but wait for him to continue.

“You told me you like getting your ass fucked.”

Your central system drops. Malfunctions more like.

“I— t-that’s—“, words scramble and fall apart on your tongue. So much was happening. This is your best friend. Why does he know about one of your more taboo fantasies? You’ve talked about sex but for the most part kept it brief.

This shouldn’t be happening but it is.

You shouldn’t be letting it but you are.

Nothing’s changed right?

He’s the same best friend that’s seen you wax your stomach and free-bleed when you were at the end of your rope during your period. You’ve seen him snot cry over his first kiss accidentally being a guy instead of the girl he was nuts about when you were in 8th grade.

You were the first to defend him in anything. The first to include him when he was excluded and the only to stand by him when he’d get exiled as the quiet weird kid until he developed and got hot. Then suddenly all his imperfections were chic.

You were there for each other through it all.

“It’s okay”, he purrs, hands greedily kneading your waist before smoothing up your sides, thumbs caressing just below your breasts.

“I’m not making fun of you— I think it’s hot too.”

More wet kisses rain down on any skin he can reach, mouth open and ravenous when he slots it against yours. It’s filthy, your tongues sliding and curling around each other while you hang onto him like your life depends on him.

Riki’s lips feel so good on yours it leaves you breathless. Ridiculously plush lips pull and suck at yours and the pleading moan you sigh into his mouth drives him off the edge of reason. He needs to have you.

One hand leaves your waist to grab the hair at the back of your head, holding you harder to his mouth as he moves his head to deepen the kiss, sucking on your tongue until you feel it in your clit and distantly it dawns on you.

You’re wet.

“Niki…”, you breathe. Barely more than a whimper but the pure need in it has him sliding off your lips with a harsh suck.

Panting against his mouth, he rests his forehead against yours, swallowing your taste as he breathes in another lungful of you. The fingers wound in your hair tighten, making you bare your throat and the even the sting feels good.

“Fuck, don’t say my name like that”, starving eyes take in the picture you make. Eyeliner starting to smudge because of your teary eyes, lip color smudged to all hell on your kiss-swollen lips, stiff nipples poking through your shirt.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy”, surging to your mouth again, Riki kisses you until the breath you inhale— he exhales. He kisses you with the encompassing desperation of the voice screaming in his head mine, mine, mine.

“Thought about you for weeks”, he confesses. “Please,”, kissing his way back down your throat, teeth grazing your pulse, holding his tongue flush to it long enough to feel every quickened beat. He’s never been this out of his mind and he can’t seem to stop and what’s worse?

You don’t want him to.

“I want to sooo bad— but only if you want to-“, you cup his face to slow him down a little, ground him even though yes, you do want to but it’s affection. Affection from you. Don’t you know what that does to him? Picking you up, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

Your eyes widen when you feel how hard he is but Riki doesn’t pay it any mind, too busy sucking countless bruises into your neck. Moaning high and needy when his full lips brush over that spot that makes you shiver.

“Niki…” you start but in all honesty you don’t know where to. You can’t believe you missed the budding attraction between you two. How one little spark could turn into a house fire.

“Yeah, pretty? M’here.”

And he wasn’t making things easier for you.

“You’re— hard…”, voice trailing off almost shyly but to him it’s cute. You’re normally so bold, cheeky and now? Raising his head level to yours he smiles like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course I’m hard— been hard for weeks. Ever since you told me that you like to fuck yourself, toys and all in—“, another slot of heat slams through you so strongly it makes you gasp, slapping a palm over his mouth before he can finish.

“Riki Nishimura!”

The smug look doesn’t go away as you slowly move your hand, silently daring him to run his mouth one more time. He doesn’t have to, you do it for him when that last bit catches up.

“Wait, I told you about the toys?” He shouldn’t revel in your obvious embarrassment so much but your reactions were so, so good. Instead, he simply nods, going back to smooching slow, heated kisses up your jaw.

“And the worst part is you don’t even need ‘em”,

“I’ll fuck you wherever you want, baby.” His voice is coated with honey, sweet enough to make you dissolve into him like a sugar cube in tea. Shifting you in his hold, he grinds against your pussy. The wet fabric clings deliciously to your clit, a perfect friction that has you keening needily into his mouth.

“Jus’ gotta let me…”, Riki drags your bottom lip out with his teeth before letting go, kissing it when it pops back into place and blood roars in your ears. Then, you’re nodding. Handing over your willing and eager consent to the one person you thought you’d never get with.

Faster than you can keep track of, you’re thrown over a shoulder and then on top of a bed.

Riki moves fast.

Clothes fly.

First his, then yours. You can’t help the way you stare— from his pretty face down the toned contours of his body and the tattoo he wound up getting of your lips one night when a friend of yours asked if you two were dating.

“She’s my best friend, no we’re not a couple.” When he got asked why not, you simply bent down, lifted Riki’s shirt and pressed your lips tight against the flat of his pelvis. Winking at him when you were done, you pranced off with the next dummy that wouldn’t last a week with you.

His friend was stunned but Riki was all too used to it.

“Too busy being a sex symbol.” Shooting him a sleazy grin, he points to your fresh lipstick. “See?”

Your eyes trail lower to the concerningly large bulge; whining low in your throat when you imagine it inside you. Pulling Riki to your lips he’s practically falling over to kiss you. Lips move firm against each other, fruity smelling breath coasts across his mouth in hot puffs making him groan.

He’s so hard.

The low sound rouses something inside you as you lick across the seam of his mouth, taking his bottom lip in your own mouth; sucking before pulling away with a wet moan— looking up at the remnants of Riki’s sanity with hazy ‘fuck me’ eyes.

Oh it’s like that?

Wordlessly, Riki flips you onto your stomach, ignoring your indignant huffs as he arches your back nice and high— ass perfectly displayed. The sight makes him groan, brows furrowed in restraint. Your cunt looks good enough to eat, darkened fabric hugging your pussy lips because of how soaked you are.

“Damn, look at her— so sloppy f’me…”

Your breath stutters so hard you choke, cunt clenching around nothing when you feel him drag your underwear down your trembling thighs. Partially because of nerves and because you know any moment now, he’ll see it. And he does.

Right when he deepens your arch, hips tilting when he catches a glimpse of it.

There, above your sopping wet pussy is your other hole and snug inside is a crystal clear plug. Your hole is stretched around it, giving your asshole the prettiest fucking gape but what really gets him is the sound you make when he tugs it juuust a little.

Riki freezes, cock twitching almost violently.

Slick drips steadily out of you now, making a mess on his sheets when he does it again, feeling the way your hole grips the intrusion.

“You really are a little anal slut”, squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head no against the pillows but the proof is right in front of him.

Cooing, Riki cracks a heavy hand down on your ass and you jerk— bleating out a sharp cry as he does it again to your opposite cheek. The pain feels so good. Your watery eyes glaze over while your swollen pussy leaks.

“No? Then why is she so wet, baby?” You don’t have an answer and you both know why.

“Has this been in the entire time?” It’s too embarrassing to say. Makes you feel called out, exposed— like a pervert but you don’t wanna stop.

Riki keeps you spread and arched for him as he brings his hand lower, flicking your clit with a sudden brutal kind of precision as you scream. You know what you have to do if you want him to ease up but you stay silent until the flicks turn into slaps— sharp, direct and punishing on your poor nub.

The sounds are disgusting.

Sloppy and vulgar and everything that’s been consuming him as he watches you smear your makeup drooling into his pillow. Heat flashes inside you in waves, smashing your sense onto the shores of shameful desperation.

More slaps hail down on your puffy folds when you don’t respond, strings of your wet slick stick to his hand every time he brings it down on you. On one particularly harsh hit, his warm ring catches on your clit nearly sending you into convulsions as you break— voice wrecked and pathetic.

“Mmmph— y-yesss! Fuck me, yess-! s’ been in the whole time”, your voice cracks in a way that sounds nothing like you as you beg. “Please— Niki!”

The hand between your thighs goes from punishing to rewarding, swirling your clit in nasty circles. You’re so wet it’s obscene, audible. Riki presses himself flush to your back, biting the mark he left over your pulse hard enough to make you writhe while your pussy cries all over his hand.

You spread your legs wider when he backs up a bit just to look at you. Asshole stuffed, folds swollen and enflamed from his spanking, slick dripping out in rivulets because your cunt is still empty as you present yourself for him so prettily.

“Look at you”, his timbre pours over you like warm velvet. “She’s drooling so much— s’like she’s starving.”

Then, his other hand smooths up the soft curve of your ass, tracing the base of your toy before tugging— the first flared ball pops from your rim and the result is instantaneous.

He watches your pussy convulse, spasming tight around nothing at the same time your clit throbs against his fingers as he strums the overstimulated nub faster. The cry that comes out of you is visceral, hardly passable as cute to your own ears but you’re so lost in the depravity of pleasure that how you look doesn’t matter.

“Such a messy little slut.”

And shoves it right back in, the force of pressure felt through that gooey spot near your bellybutton and for a second you think he’s killed you.

Your entire body locks before exploding. Eyes rolling back, drool pooling beneath your cheek as white-hot pleasure overtakes you. A wet noise between a moan and a scream belts from your chest before ending in a sob of his name seconds before your pussy starts to gush and he moans with you. Biting his lip at the absolute scene you make.

“Thaaats my good fuckin’ girl…”, he hisses through clenched teeth. “Pissing cum all over me, just what we needed, yeah baby?” Jesus fuck.

You wail. Riki doesn’t stop.

So you keep cumming. Harder than you ever have— hard enough to make your head begin to hurt, legs shaking as you begin to cry in earnest, fat tears streaking your once perfect makeup. Every wracked sob is met with a burning heavy spank. When you try to get away, move up the bed to catch some type of break, large fingers wind around your neck to hold you in place.

“C—“, your voice cracks. “Came already! M’ done!”

Riki hums, as if contemplating the validity of your statement before fucking two fingers in your empty hole with a damningly loud squelch. She immediately tightens, sucking his fingers like it’s exactly what she was crying so much for and he can feel it.

The way she clenches in greedy pulses.

Scoffing out a condescending laugh through his nose, he grinds the heel of his palm on your still throbbing clit.

“No you’re not, not even close but you’re gonna be good for me until I say you are. Okay?”

And you nod. Because you’d let him do whatever he wanted to you and he knows that.

You’d always let him.

Times when you were out together with your friends and you’d get overwhelmed and ask to be alone and when they’d leave he’d stay because he knew you’d let him. The constant in your life.

The constant exception.

You’ve loved him since day one.

You gasp when he twists his fingers inside your sappy walls and his name escapes your lips needy and unbidden. Draping himself over you, he’s there— leaning over to meet you in another wet kiss. Shudders wrack your body as he licks into your mouth, tongue undulating against yours in the nastiest movements and more heat washes over you making you twitch around him as you get wetter.

There’s 3 fingers now, stretching you out something utterly sick. Chest heaving, there’s no time to catch your breath when his thumb is back on your clit— strumming in mean, heady swipes.

You lose it.

Thick, wet trills shred your throat— pressure building until you can’t take it. Riki watches you fall apart again for him, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallows his fingers. His entire hand is covered in you as your breath quickens. Your raw, teary sobs has his cock aching as they take on another pitch entirely. “You— fuck-! ‘S always you!”

Something darker than possessiveness rolls over him at your confession, pupils widening with a frightening kind of hunger when he curls his fingers— knuckling into that gooey spot that turns you to static as you drool.

You were so lovely like this—sweaty and overwhelmed. All for him; pretty face contorted in agonizing bliss as you cum with spread legs in his lap— drenching you both in your juices. Dipping his head, he takes your mouth in another melty kiss, grinding his leaky erection against your ass, groaning when he feels your slick walls pulsate.

“Gonna cum again, sweetness?” Riki purrs lowly against your lips, lapping a hot swipe across the seam of your open mouth.

Stars dance in your eyes as you nod, letting out a weak hiccuping sob of what you hope sounds like confirmation. Heat coils tight and thick in your center— consuming you in its raw bliss. “Words baby, the ones you love mouthing off t’me with.”

Immediately, indignation sears across your face as you shake your head to deny it. Pointless because it’s true. You have a smart mouth— always had a smart smooth and because he’s always around you, he usually catches the worst of it. Riki hums, brow raising in mock belief.

“No? That couldn’t have been you”, he concedes, really fucking into your g-spot now as he fucks your sopping cunt with a vicious precision. “Not when all it takes to get you so sweet and obedient is a stuffed asshole and someone touching your crybaby pussy right?”

Oh god. He’s trying to kill you.

“You’re a good girl as long as you get these greedy holes fucked, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.. ‘m your good girl.”

A clear slot of arousal soaked in satisfaction, settles in his gut before pooling out, leaving him scorching from the inside out.

Thrusting harder, he switches from the heel of his hand to thumb— treating your clit like a fidget toy; moving the plug in tandem, your puffy rim squeezing and stretching. It’s entirely too much, your skin practically vibrating when he starts to batter that spot that has your teary eyes rolling all the way back.

Squirming, your swiftly approaching end is so piercing you don’t know what to do with yourself. Watery babbles pour from your swollen, spit-soaked lips, trying so hard to listen.

Riki hisses as you tighten like a vice, creamy squelching from your pulpy cunt echo in a spine tingling harmony with your moans.

You’re on cloud nine, body one raw nerve from the pleasure but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes harder; veiny forearms bulging as he works you stupid. “Just like that, pretty. We needed this sooo bad..” He breathes out, voracious want in his voice and you push out a hoarse cry.

“I know,” his low voice cooes— your toes point and relax as your body is submerged in wave after wave of numbing euphoria; your best friend watching you go brainless in real time.

“Can’t believe you thought I didn’t wanna be friends anymore…”

The idea of him ever leaving you before was ridiculous but especially now. Enamored with the lewd way your stuffed hole stretches around his fingers, clit fat with arousal, the next heavy strums are personal. “I wanna be everything, pretty girl”, you can hardly breathe anymore, mouth open in a choked wail as his thick digits pummel you.

“And you, gorgeous”, leaning over you again, he kisses you feverishly— filling your mouth with tongue as you suck on the wet muscle. Riki growls, letting you get your fill until he pulls away with a wet slop.

“You’re gonna cum for me.”

He slams your plug in to the hilt so he can hold you still; broad hand snapping around your windpipe to hold you to the bed— make you take it while he talks you right off the edge.

Truth is you couldn’t hold it if you tried. The first wave has your stomach caving. Ecstasy— brighter than you’ve ever known it burns a hole straight through your gut as you spin the fuck out.

Convulsing, grunting— the simmering heat boils over you and you cum so hard the sounds coming from you aren’t even human. Raw. Unfiltered. Ugly—as Riki fucks you through it making your empty head spin at the effortless way he holds you down.

“Yeahhh baby”, he husks lowly, “Let her make her slutty mess f’me..”

It’s hell at this point.

Every nerve seems to grow teeth, you feel like you’ve been dunked in lava as he crooks his fingers juuust right into that melty nook; your jaw drops in a silent scream— mind blank as he chokes you out with his thick fingers so deep you erupt.

The sound of your gushing pussy sets his blood alight so wickedly it borders on sickening. You’re too gone to notice as you squirt all over him. Letting go of your throat to bully your clit, the headrush intensifies your sensitivity. Utterly torn wails stream from your mouth when Riki strums the flat of his fingers fast over your pulsating bundle of nerves. “Keep cumming, gorgeous— squirt yourself to a headache f’me.”

You’re shaking, incoherent— countless orgasms bleeding into another as you burst. It’s unending. It’s hedonistic.

He doesn’t care and you don’t either.

He’s suffered wanting you and know he knows you want him too. You don’t know how long of a time you’re in for.

Fingers spread you out as he thrusts away, other hand beating your clit with light spanks. You don’t know if you’re dying or going crazy but it’s addictive— Riki. Your Niki. Indulging you and owning you until you break.

The sobs and cries turn positively shrill when he snatches your plug all the way out. Cursing loud when he watches how your asshole stays open like something’s in it even though she’s empty— used rim twitching as she gapes deliciously.

You’re nothing but a hoarse, broken down sob as you cum again from the continued stimulation— miserably soaking you both in your release as you gush deliriously, finally collapsing boneless on his sheets.

Panting, you try to catch your breath when wet fingers tap your lip. On autopilot, you suck them into your mouth, tongue curling around each one under Riki’s molten gaze.

“That’s it, clean yourself off my fingers like a good fucktoy.”

His rasped words send another twinge to your overstimulated pussy.

You’ve pretty much lost your voice at this point but he still hears when you ask,

“Gonna fuck me now?”

Slow kisses follow down your sweat slick spine, his fat tongue following the sheen and he hums at the taste of you. Before he can answer your hands are on your ass, spreading yourself and letting him get a good look at your sloppy, abused holes.

Riki’s mind goes blank.

You keep talking. Any lingering shyness having left sometime when he had you coming in rotation.

“Y-You,” you choke out, breath coming in short pants, “Every time I’d sit in your lap I-I wondered—what it would be like.” You look into Riki’s eyes, pretty eye makeup ruined, black streaks down your cheeks— even your falsies had come off but damn it all, you’ve never looked lovelier.

“You’re so big, Ki.”

And for the second time since he’s known you, Riki’s mind goes completely blank.

Raising your hips, he eyes the way you clench your thighs. Suddenly remembering something unfortunately important, he holds you still against him— sliding his flushed cock through the tiny hole at the apex of your thighs. Riki drops his head to your shoulder with a pained groan feeling syrupy wetness coat his length. Along with your clit throbbing against him and you whine when he doesn’t move.

“Inside”, you plead but it kills him to tell you—

“I don’t have any condoms on me, baby”.

The way you look back at him, like the waterworks are about to start any moment because you’re not getting the rest of what you want is as endearing as it is heartbreaking.

Rushing to console you, he adds,

“I know we’re both clean but you’re not on the pill either, sweetheart.” Fuck he’s right.

Shoving your face into the pillow with your lashes on it, you scream out a frustrated cry. Still, his hands roam all over your heated body, trying to think through the arousal deepening the red of his very blood to come up with a safe, suitable alternative but he can’t resist.

Rocking his hips through the tight space between your thighs. The hot friction against your clit is heavenly with the soft fat of your warm thighs squeezing his cock— your shaky sigh makes his ears perk up. Running his fingers down your back to your perfect ass, thrusting faster as she slobbers more each time his fat head catches on your engorged clit.

Taking your hand fisting the sheets, he raises it to his lips— kissing the back of it so reverently it makes your heart stutter. He leans down after and kisses you like he loves you because he does. Bossy, shameless and critical, easy when the mood struck you and more understanding than people would ever give you credit for but his. Difficult and teasing in short clothes— but his.

And you were close.

You’re getting close, this time with him. You were already so sensitive and he’s pent up with weeks of you running through his mind naked in every position imaginable. You writhe against him restlessly when he presses his pelvis flush to your ass, glancing below to look at his pretty dick— glistening with pre and you.

Riki goes faster as you throb against each other. Drenched, filthy and wrecked.

“Next time”, he rasps- voice ragged with promise. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

Fingers brush the entrance of your pussy to your ass, circling more wetness along the rim— Riki moaning at the way you jolt, begging hole winking at him.

You’re a lunatic. You must be. That’s the only excuse you can think of when you use the one good deep breath you’ve been able to catch to say—

“I-I can’t wait”, you swallow. “Want you to ruin both your holes.” He already was going to but you just pushed up the deadline.

“You have no idea, baby. Gonna fuck you so stupid, just how you like.”

Your breath catches in that whiny bleat it does when you’re at your limit— it makes his balls ache when suddenly you’re creaming. The milky white painting his cock like gloss and it fucks him up so badly that he’s cumming right after.

Teeth sinking into your neck, molten cum spurts out in fat chords, thick and heavy and so much— frothy streams that just don’t stop, pumping in sopping grinds that nuzzle your slippery folds and the sensation makes you purr.

“Fuckin’ milking me— damn…”

The aftermath is hot. The lean muscle of Riki’s body, covered in each others release— his big hands steady on your waist to help you fuck yourself through it. The rush of adrenaline leaves your head dizzy, falling flat on your stomach with Riki on top of you.

You don’t mind the weight, in fact you welcome it. Humming with a delighted, thoroughly exhausted sigh. Closing your eyes, you feel him pepper kisses along your shoulders, kissing your cheek with a tenderness you rarely get to witness so earnestly. He was sweet like that.

“I like you. Let me be your boyfriend.”

And demanding.

Sleepily, you shrug— not even trying to hide your grin.

“Sure, I’d love to.” You peek an eye open at the stunned expression on his face.

“Don’t look so surprised, you know I love you.” For someone who was saying the raunchiest shit to your face only minutes ago with no shame whatsoever, now blushing because you just told him you love him back is—

“I know, I love you too just—“, you cut him off with a dramatic gasp.

“Then why’d you say you only like me?”

“I was trying to be nonchalant!” It’s so ridiculously him that you can’t help but beam, flipping over to hug him properly and he holds you just as tight; burying his face in your naked chest.

“Whatever, you’re my girlfriend now— no take backs.” A bubbly laugh shoots out of you as he scoops you up, heading to the bathroom so you can clean up— sighing contently in his arms while you agree.

“No take backs.”