JUPI

ex!ni-ki x f!reader smut (18+ minors dni), college/university au, second chances wc 10.7k

blurb! you haven’t seen NISHIMURA RIKI since the messy breakup that tore you apart months ago. he couldn’t commit, couldn’t give what you needed, so you left, empty and heartbroken. then one night, at a house party, you spot him. your friends warned you. you swore you were done. but what happens when a game shoves you into a dark closet, alone together?

warnings! unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, argument, 7 minutes in heaven, making out, grinding, dry humping, oral sex (f), ni-ki rib tattoo, petnames (baby, good/filthy girl), exhibitionism, poor jake lol

a/n! i was listening to the song ‘12 to 12’ and somehow conjured up this plot, it doesn’t really follow the song's actual story, but it made me think of this scenario, so here we are hehe (≧◡≦). kinda got carried away LOL HOW'D THIS GET TO 10K WC... aaa this is my first time writing, hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, and does not reflect how the characters actually are irl, nor does it represent my views of them. side characters from other groups may not be accurately written. not proofread.

The bass is thumping through the walls of the house like a second heartbeat. Someone has spilled beer on the couch already, while someone else is screaming the lyrics to a song they don’t even know. Minju is clutching your hand, the two of you on the lookout for the rest of your friends, who seem to have already wandered off the second that some alcohol got into their systems. The warm and dim mood light that filled the space made it more difficult to find anyone. All bodies blending into one from a distance. Her grip on you is firm, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You kind of already have.

You’re physically here. In this house that has quickly become far too hot with the number of people shoved into it, the crowded living room you were in is surrounded by faces you don’t even recognize half of. Your mind however, is somewhere else. Stuck somewhere twenty minutes ago. Caught in the moment you bumped into him.

You had just arrived and were weaving your way through the crowd, barely missing the splatter of drinks being thrown around by swaying, half-drunk bodies. You were pulled away from Minju and the others the second that you stepped foot in the rented house, attempting to regroup with your friends while also making a short detour to the table with the punch.

‘Pure fuel’

You had absolutely no idea what was in it but at this point you didn’t really care, just wanting to let loose for a night.

Your friends had dragged you out of your dorm because you had been cooped up in there for nights on end, far too focused on studying and trying not to think too hard about a certain someone. You thought you may as well have a little fun now that you’re here.

After pushing past some strangers, the large glass punch bowl came into view and you immediately held onto the kitchen counter to steady yourself, the amount of people in this house was no joke. Without looking, you reached for a red solo cup, ready to get buzzed, when you felt the soft brush of fingers against yours. You jolt. Someone from behind you had reached out at the exact same time you did.

“Oh, sorry” You mumbled softly, pulling back to allow the stranger to go first.

But as the stranger moved to pour himself a drink, pressed up against your side, your body began to remember. A specific scent of strong cologne. A familiar warmth. Your heart instantly knew but your brain was still catching up. You turned.

Nishimura Riki.

Aside from his freshly bleached hair and broader shoulders. Damn he’s been working out. Everything else about him was still the same. The sharpness in his features. The calm arrogance in the way he carries himself. The way people stop and stare when he walks through a room, not because he wants them to, but because his presence demands it. The boy you once loved.

Your stomach folded inwards, hands tightened around the counter. You didn’t realize you were staring until he looked down at you.

Upon meeting your gaze his eyebrows raised ever so slightly, only noticeable to you, who was looking right back at him. He’s surprised, you can tell, not expecting to see you here. A flicker of emotion ran behind his eyes, something almost like hurt flashed, so fast you hardly register it before he quickly regained his composure.

You felt your cheeks heat up sligthly at being caught staring. He just finishes pouring his drink before smirking at you in that naturally flirty way he does, placing the ladle of the punch bowl down as he disappeared into the crowd. Gone, again. As if he was never there.

You swallowed hard, trying to bury the ache he reignited within you.

Which leads to now, you found him again, across the room with his friends. In between Heeseung and Jungwon, laughing at something that Sunghoon said across from them, but his eyes are focused on something else. Someone else.

You.

Every time you look up, his eyes are already on you. Watching. Before he turns away like it means nothing. Which is probably true, right?

“You okay?” Minju asks, pressing a cold drink into your hand. Her worried eyes flick toward the other end of the room like she already knows.

“I’m fine,” you lie.

You haven’t seen him in 6 months. Not since that night.

Screams were let out. Doors were slammed. Your voice cracked while tears spilled out as you told him it was over. You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t be the only one trying. He was always late. Always cold and distant. Always too much and not enough all at the same time.

Constant miscommunication, obsession, and jealousy. Too many nights spent crying alone in your room because Riki had a habit of flirting with anything that breathed. Even if he never acted on it, even if he always came back to you, it stung.

And he did come back. Every time. With those hands and that mouth and that damn voice like sin. Until you couldn’t breathe without him.

Until you felt so suffocated, you had to leave.

So why the hell is your heart doing backflips just because he looked at you?

“Don’t,” Minju warns softly, catching on to the reason for your spacing out. “You promised.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmur as your eyes flick back to her, sipping your drink. It was true, technically.

“Exactly,” she says. “You’re just standing here, waiting for him to come to you. Like you always did.”

You flinch, because she’s right; a little harsh, but right. Because part of you still wants him to. You hate it.

Yunjin and Intak are arguing over what music to put on next, and Keeho’s already found the secret liquor stash. Your friends are loud and chaotic, and usually you’d love that, egging them on, but tonight it all feels like background noise.

Because the room is pulsing with something else taking over your senses. Something low and slow and heavy. Something that tastes like nostalgia, heartbreak and the sickening sweetness of still wanting what once ruined you all at once.

Riki.

Your eyes meet again across the room, and this time he doesn’t look away.

He tilts his head slightly, gaze dragging down your body and back up with an unhurried arrogance that makes your skin burn. His lips part just enough to show the hint of a smirk before taking a sip of his drink. For a second, you remember how you two used to be.

His mouth on your neck. His hands gripping your thighs. The way he used to kiss you as if he was starving and you were all he needed to recover.

You tear your gaze away, swallowing hard.

No. Stop thinking about him.

But you can still feel him looking, as if his eyes naturally gravitate towards you.

You don’t approach him. You won’t.

Because the passion between you two was nuclear, but it scorched everything around it. He ruined you, and you let him. He doesn’t deserve to see how much you still want him.

But then the music changes.

That song comes on.

Your song.

The one that played when you first met, at a party similar to this one. The one he used to hum under his breath when he’d tug you into his lap and kiss you slow. The one that played when he said that he loved you for the first time, in between moans and tangled sheets.

You freeze, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice he does too.

Minju tenses beside you, sensing the shift in your mood. “We should go.”

Now, the room is spinning slower. Everyone around you has faded into a blur. Just you and him, breathing the same air, held hostage by the same memory. Two strangers who once shared a story.

Snapping out of it briefly, you glance toward where he was standing again, and he’s gone.

Your heart jumps into your throat. Until-

“Hey!” someone calls. “Seven Minutes in Heaven! Let’s go!”

You groan. “Oh, absolutely not-” What are we? High schoolers?

But surprisingly, small crowds begin piling into a circle in the next room over, pulling you along with them in the process. Jungwon’s dragging Riki out from wherever he disappeared to. Yunjin’s already pushing people together. The bottle spins, over and over again as laughter echoes. The closet door creaks open and closed each time a new coupled up pair is selected. Until suddenly, the sequence of players has rotated enough to end up with you.

“Your turn,” Minju whispers, eyes widening in warning, before mumbling, “Literally anyone else, please.” unsure if she's trying to calm your nerves or her own.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for the bottle. You don’t even fully know how you ended up here, as if some uncontrollable wave had swept you into your spot on the floor. Chatter and laughter buzz around you like static as you brace yourself for whatever storm you’re about to get yourself in.

You glance at Riki. Just for a second.

Then you spin.

It’s the longest few seconds of your life. Since when do bottles spin so fucking slow? The bottle goes around in circles for far too long and not long enough at the same time. Your heart is pounding in your throat, a cold sweat creeping down your back, your eyes laser-focused on the bottle.

And finally, like some sick joke, it stops.

Landing dead center on none other than Nishimura Riki. Of-fucking-course it does. It’s like the universe could sense your lingering eyes the whole night and decided to punish you for even thinking about him.

The room erupts. A mixture of cheers, laughter, and gasps. You feel your stomach plummet to the floor.

Riki doesn’t say a word. He just lifts his chin, jaw set, and holds out his hand. Waiting for your cue.

You don’t want to take it. You shouldn’t take it.

But you always were a little self-destructive, weren’t you?

Your hand slides into his with a slight tremble as you both stand from your spots on the floor.

He leads you into the closet, you hesitantly get in after him. The door shuts behind you both with a finality that sounds louder than it should. Engulfed in total darkness. Your skin buzzes as you and Riki stand in the tiny space. Your bodies face one another, but your eyes linger elsewhere.

Neither of you speak, suffocating in a mix of the silence and his strong cologne.

You have never wanted to fade out of existence more than right now.

Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. It’s impossible to ignore how small the space is. Narrow. Cramped. The heat of his body just inches away from yours.

You try to focus on the distant pulse of the music, the faint murmur of voices beyond the door, but your mind is clouded.

By him.

His quiet and controlled breathing ringing in your ears.

“Still wearing my perfume,” he suddenly says, breaking the silence, voice dipped in something dangerous.

You stiffen, looking down. “It’s not yours.”

“You used to steal it from my bathroom.”

Your fingers curl at your sides as you glance at him, brows furrowed in slight annoyance. “That was forever ago.”

“It was March.”

A pause. Heavy.

You swallow, voice smaller now. “Still not yours.”

“It smells good on you,” he says softly. “Still drives me insane.”

You press your back tighter against the wall, as if you can disappear into it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Start with that again.”

“I’m not starting anything,” he says, tone too casual. “Just… remembering.”

You hear the faint sound of him shifting, a shoe scuffing on the closet floor. His voice is closer now, by half a step. His body heat radiates toward you like gravity.

Your jaw tightens. “Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“You know exactly what.”

He hums. “You always said I was good at it.”

“Right.” You exclaim, “You’re a natural at it! Pretending nothing affects you, nothing touches you, like you’re-”

“Untouchable?” he finishes, amused. You can hear the small smirk on his face as he speaks. “You used to like that.”

“I used to like a lot of things about you,” you snap.

He laughs low and breathy, no bite. “Not anymore?”

You hesitate a moment too long.

He clocks it instantly.

“Thought so.”

You grit your teeth, fists beginning to clench at your sides. “You think you’re so charming.”

“Not really.” He moves again, the sound of his body brushing the wall opposite yours, inching closer. You swear you can feel his breath now. “I just remember how your legs used to shake when I kissed you.”

Your breath hitches.

Silence stretches between you like elastic. Something fragile and tense in the air.

You whisper, “You were such a goddamn liar.”

He pauses for a moment, words caught in his throat for a second.

“What did I lie about?”

Your head turns toward the sound of his voice in the dark. “You made me feel like I was the only thing you ever wanted, you told me I was, and then you started acting like I didn’t exist unless it was convenient for you. You were never there, Riki. Not when it mattered.”

There’s a shift. His armor cracks ever so subtly, but he doesn’t speak. You wait.

“I didn’t know how,” he admits quietly.

You blink.

“You were always too good,” he says, gaze shifting to the side. “Too good at loving me. It scared the shit out of me.”

There’s a long pause. The air between you turns heavy.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, looking back in your direction in the dark.

You let out a breathless laugh. “Well, mission failed.”

“I know.”

Silence returns once again, now changed. Thicker. Full of so much left unsaid that you can almost taste them. You press your palms against the wall behind you, an attempt at grounding yourself.

He’s not touching you, but the heat of his body from the close proximity makes it feel like he is. His presence, the smell of his cologne, the way his voice crawls under your skin and makes a home in your bloodstream, it’s killing you inside.

“I missed you Y/N.”

Your eyes widen, just a fraction, but you don’t answer. You physically can’t.

Your chest aches. Your stomach is in knots. Everything inside you is screaming, begging you to just stay still and ride this out. It’s only seven minutes. That’s it. It shouldn’t be this hard.

But in a moment of weakness, you whisper, “Do you still think about me?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “More than I’d like to admit.”

You suck in a sharp breath, and then finally, the moment breaks.

He takes a step forward, and you feel it more than you see it. The energy in the closet shifts completely. Air crackling. Tension climbing.

You whisper, “Don’t.” but your voice isn’t convincing. It’s soft, weak.

“I won’t touch you,” he says, so close now that his voice rumbles through your chest. “Not unless you ask me to.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“You loved that about me.”

You hate how true that is.

He edges closer again, his breath hits your cheek. Your body jolts like it’s been electrified in response.

“I shouldn’t have come in here,” you manage to get out.

“Probably not.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I want to,” you whisper.

Suddenly, his fingers gently brush against yours, barely there. A ghost of contact, and yet it unravels something within you so fast it makes your head spin.

You grip the hem of your skirt, fists tight. “Riki…”

“Still love the way you say my name,” he murmurs.

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Because I’ll forget why I left.”

Riki lets that sit before taking another step closer, until there’s no space left between you. His hand finds the wall beside your head, chest brushing lightly against yours, testing.

The darkness in the closet, his body pressed against yours, his breath against your neck as he leans down, it’s becoming all too much. You feel dizzy.

“You left,” he says softly. “But you didn’t stop loving me.”

Your breath catches at his words. His face inches closer, the soft air from his nose just brushing your own. His forehead presses against yours, the heat from the contact making you lightheaded. He’s so close.

Without another word, the gap closes. He kisses you, lips soft and filled with intent as they move against yours. Slow and deep.

Like nothing’s changed. Like he never stopped being yours.

And, god. You kiss him back.

Your back hits the wall with a quiet thud as his other hand lands gently on your hip. His lips still feel the same, your breathing is uneven, and the heat of him pressed to your skin burns like a bruise. The kiss, devastating and familiar, fizzes through every nerve in your body. Your brain quickly catches up to what you’re doing, and suddenly your hands are moving to shove against his chest, pushing him backwards.

“Stop,” you gasp. “Just stop.”

Riki stumbles back half a step, lips parted, chest heaving. You can’t see him properly in the dark, but you feel his presence, something radiating and suffocating, like smoke filling your lungs.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “You don’t get to do that.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Of course I did. That’s the problem.”

Silence took over the closet once again, the kind that made you want to evaporate out of thin air just to be able to escape the situation. Then he broke it, voice quiet yet sharp all at once. “You think I haven’t missed you every fucking day since?”

You inhale too quickly. “You didn’t act like it.”

“I was trying to let you go!” he snaps, a hint of desperation evident in the way he spoke. “Because I thought it’s what you needed.”

“What I needed was for you to try! For once.” Your voice cracks, low and bitter. “I needed you to choose me. Not just when it was easy. Not just when you were lonely.”

His breath shudders. “You were the only thing I ever wanted,” he whispers, your heart claws its way up your throat. “I just didn’t know how to keep you.”

You freeze. The world stills.

At this point you barely notice the music thumping beyond the closet anymore, just the sound of his voice, ragged and raw and painfully real.

You whisper, “Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.”

“I do mean them.”

And before you can properly think, before your lungs can work on taking your next breath, you find yourself leaning in just a little, and he’s kissing you again.

Harder this time.

Hungrier.

It’s not sweet. It’s not gentle. It’s not even angry. It’s desperate. It crashes into you like a wave that’s been building for far too long, held back by dam after dam of unspoken words and trembling restraint.

He swallows your breath like it’s oxygen, like he needs you to be able to stay alive. Hands threading into your hair, tilting your chin just the way he always used to. His lips drag yours open, tongue sliding deep with a mastery that should be illegal, elliciting a small noise close to a whimper out of you. He kisses you like he remembered it all, which he did. Every sigh, every weak spot, every way you liked to be taken apart. You gasp into his mouth as his hand ghosts down your side, fingers skating the edge of your waist, not quite touching enough; teasing.

In this moment, you can’t think of anything that isn’t him. That isn’t Riki. The boy you once poured all of your heart into.

You’re too busy falling.

You feel his lips slowly drag to your jaw, kissing a hot path downwards, then trailing to your neck. You gasp softly, your head tipping back against the wall like instinct as warm, gentle licks are marked onto you in between kisses. His grip on your hips tightens with every movement of his mouth. His teeth graze your throat and the sound you make in response is obscene.

“You’re dangerous,” you whisper breathless, like it’s something he doesn’t already know.

He pulls back just enough to speak, lips still brushing your skin.

“I’m only like this with you.”

Your body arches into his, heat blooming between you like fire on gasoline, you can feel his small smirk blooming against your neck. Your legs feel shaky, your fingertips tremble as they slide up his chest.

“You’re so full of shit,” you whisper, but your voice breaks, betrays you.

“I could ruin you,” he says lowly, mouth brushing the shell of your ear, breath hot. “But you already let me.”

You groan, a low and real groan, and it sounds like a secret. Like something you shouldn’t be doing with him, your ex boyfriend. Especially not here. You can feel the beginning of a heat blooming deep in between your thighs.

His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss once more, and this time it destroys you. His hand slips to the back of your thigh, tugging it up against his hip, pressing you flush against him. You can now feel him pressed against your core as he pushes you backwards into the closet wall, a growing hardness underneath his pants. He grinds into you slowly, as if testing the waters, and your knees buckle instantly.

His grip on you tightens, holding you steady. One arm now snaking around your waist as his tongue brushes against yours in a wet kiss.

You moan softly, right into his mouth.

“Shhh,” he breathes deep with a subtle tease in his tone, pulling away slightly. “You want them to hear?”

You freeze and melt all at once.

You’re in a closet. There are people literal feet away from you. Friends, yours and his. Laughing. Drinking. Unaware of what is going on between the two of you, or maybe not so much.

The risk makes your head spin.

“Riki…” you pant.

His lips don’t leave yours. “Say it again.”

You do, unintentionally whinier than the first.

He groans this time, and the sound vibrates into your mouth like a promise. His hips buck into yours.

“You have no idea what that does to me,” he mutters, grinding into you slowly as his grip on you tightens, dangerously. “No idea how many nights I thought about this. About you.”

You clutch his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Your mouths break apart only to find each other again seconds later like gravity, thirst. His tongue slides roughly against yours in a kiss so hot and sinful that your whole body aches for more. He knows how to ruin you, to devour you slow, unraveling every thread, every barrier you put up trying to get over him, with the way his hands frame your hips, the way his fingers dig into your skin like he never forgot how you fit.

Your skirt rides up as his thigh slots between yours. Your breath hitches when you feel him press up, grinding again, his growing hard-on slotting perfectly against your clothed warmth. Your body jerks in response, whimpering into his mouth like you’re drunk on him.

You kind of are.

His mouth meets yours in a deep kiss again. It’s dangerous. You clutch at the back of his neck, fingers slowly dragging up into his hair, nails digging in as you tug hesitantly on his blond strands. He lets out a deep groan into your mouth, your hips aching in the best way as his grip tightens even more.

“I hate that you still feel like this,” you whisper, shaky.

He smirks against your lips. “You mean perfect?”

You shove him playfully. He grabs your wrist and presses your hand to his chest, right over his racing heart. He rests his forehead against yours, never breaking eye contact

“I never stopped wanting you,” he says, almost reverent. “Even when I was trying to.”

Your eyes sting.

You lean in, kissing him again, like you can’t spend more than two seconds without his lips moving against yours, in the intoxicating way they do.

It’s spiraling, fast.

Riki’s is on you leaving wet, desperate and consuming open mouthed kisses wherever he can. His tongue sliding deep into your mouth, like he can taste how wrecked you already are. His hands have stopped pretending to behave, one edging from your waist to your backside, pulling you against the thick line of his body, the other now tangled deep in your hair, tilting your head to kiss you harder. Deeper. As if he wants to fuse with you into one being, until your hearts beat as one. It had always driven you crazy how he’d take control in situations like this.

You’re panting against his lips, high on him and chasing his touch, just as desperate. He groans into your mouth and it vibrates straight through your chest, making you shiver. His hand slips lower, over your thigh, gripping it. Lifting, no, dragging your leg up high around his waist until your core is pressed hard against him. The only thing keeping his cock from rubbing right up against your heat being the thin layers of clothing between you.

You whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the friction.

“This is insane,” you breathe into the corner of his mouth.

He kisses you instead of answering. Open and hungry.

“Don’t care,” he growls, voice hoarse. “You feel too fucking good.”

His hips roll into you harder, and it shatters you. His bulge straining through his pants, fully hard now.

A gasp escapes your lips before you can catch it, your fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt like it’ll save you from drowning in him. One hand slowly finds its way under, feeling a hint of his bare and toned stomach against your fingertips. Your other hand finds his jaw, sharp and familiar, and pulls him even closer.

He smiles against your mouth, cocky and dangerous. He loves that you’re already coming undone, all over again. He loves the effect he has on you. How your body reacts so well to his.

His lips trail down your neck, slow and sinful, his hand pressing harder against your thigh you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise, keeping your legs open for him. You can feel him, hard, hot, pressed right where you’re aching, and it makes you dizzy.

“I missed this,” he murmurs, tongue sliding devastatingly slow against your skin making your head lean back against the closet wall. “Missed the way you sound.”

“I hate you,” you whisper, shivering as his hand slips beneath your skirt. Your hands traveling across his abs underneath his shirt. His teeth graze against the skin just under your ear and you shiver as you feel him suck hard, a mark sure to form.

“No, you don’t.” His fingers skim your inner thigh. “You just wish you did.”

He’s infuriating, and yet he’s right.

Your hands catch his face again, hands cupping his cheeks as you press your lips back on his, mouths crashing together with a breathless need that makes the whole world disappear. The kiss deepens, slick and frantic, teeth grazing lips, hands sliding further under clothing.

You can barely think.

You’re just noise and heat and hands. Moans muffled into mouths. Fingertips clutching skin. His hips grinding into yours with such need like it’s killing him right now not to be inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained, forehead pressed to yours as you both try to breathe. Hot breaths fanning against one another as you both try to navigate the daze you’re in. “You’re driving me fucking insane. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

“Same thing you’re doing to me,” you gasp.

Both of his hands wrap fully around your thigh and waist and drag you higher, lifting you slightly off the floor, so your weight is pressed hard between him and the wall, so he can rut up against you. So he can feel you. You yelp softly at the sudden change in position, your arms snaking their way around his neck. You are now being carried by him with ease, his body pressing yours against the wall. The reminder of his insane body strength drives you crazy.

The increased access and friction from this position has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna let me take care of you?” he breathes with desperation, mouth dragging hotly against your cheek, leaving small licks and nips here and there. “Wanna feel me again?”

His words make you weak in the knees. If you weren’t being lifted up by him right now, you’re sure they would’ve buckled at that. “Yes!” you whisper, before you can think better.

He groans like the word alone undoes him, dragging you down once more against his clothed hard-on. “God, you’re so-”

But he’s cut off.

Knock knock.

“Time’s almost up!” a voice calls through the door, bright and oblivious.

You freeze. So does he. Both your heads now turned towards the closet door. You suddenly remember where you are, having gotten too caught up in each other.

The music is still blaring outside. People are still laughing, shouting. The real world is still moving on, and you’re here in the dark, shoved against a wall, on the edge of making every mistake you swore you’d never repeat.

You can hardly breathe.

Your chest is rising and falling too fast, and you try to steady yourself, arms tightening a little around Riki’s neck. You try to blink back the haze, but then he shifts, still pressed up between your legs, and your body reacts, eliciting a sudden sound.

A broken, breathy, desperate little whimper.

You slap your hand over your mouth like it’ll fix it. Like it’ll hide the fact that your entire body is still on fire. Burning for him.

Riki turns to you the second the noise leaves your lips and grins. Slow and feral.

“You’re so not done with me,” he murmurs just inches away from your lips, voice wrecked.

You look at him. Eyes wide, lips swollen, heat still building inside you like it never paused, just growing.

He leans in one last time, lips grazing your ear.

“Come home with me.”

You nod before you even register it, and before you know it, Riki is gently placing you back on the floor as his lips place an open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the door cracks open, just as you two break apart.

Light floods in. Your friends are nowhere in view yet.

Riki doesn’t give you a second to think. His hand wraps around yours, grip tight, possessive, and deadly all at once.

He pulls you out fast, guiding you through the bodies with ease, through the bass-heavy air, down the hallway.

No words. No explanations. No goodbyes.

You move past the living room, the kitchen, the crush of people. The moment the front door is within reach, Heeseung suddenly looks up from where he’s standing, seemingly taking a breather in one of the less crowded areas of the house. He’s leaning against the wall by the front door, red cup in hand, one brow raised like he saw this coming a mile away. At least he’s alone…

He whistles low and teasing.

You don’t dare look, blushing profusely. Riki doesn’t flinch. His hand stays locked around yours as he yanks the door open and you step out into the night.

The car ride is silent, but the air is anything but calm.

Your thigh is burning beneath his hand. His palm rests heavy over your skin, thumb stroking slow and possessive circles just above your knee. He doesn’t look at you once, but you can feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. His jaw clenched, lip caught between his teeth, fingers tapping at the steering wheel, restless. The tension is a third presence in the car, thick and suffocating, like something is alive, pacing, waiting to explode.

You’re still breathing hard from what just happened in the closet. You haven’t come down from the high you felt, not even close. You don’t think you can come down from it without him.

The second the key turns in the lock of his shared dorm and the door creaks open, Riki is on you. Luckily his roommate, Jake, is still at the party.

Mouths colliding, wrecked and hungry.

Teeth, tongues, breathless gasps. You stumble backward into the dark room as you’re tasting each other, hands fumbling all over bodies. He slams the door shut behind you with a kick, it clicks. Then he grabs you, both hands firm on the backside of your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor like you weigh nothing for the second time that night.

Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, arms around his shoulders, and he pins you to the wall so hard the frames rattle.

“You don’t leave tonight,” he growls into your ear, breathing heavily, “not until I’ve ruined you all over again.”

You moan before you can stop it.

He kisses you like he’s trying to take your breath away. Like your mouth is the only thing he’ll ever need again. His hands slide up, under your skirt, along the backs of your thighs. He gives your ass a testing squeeze and you let out a whimper just muffled by a kiss, you can feel him smirking against your lips.

“God…” he groans.

Riki holds your hips to the thick press of him, his cock aching beneath his jeans, begging to be freed. He grinds down into you slow and deep between your legs. You cry out into his mouth, legs squeezing tighter together around his hips as he holds you.

“Fuck,” he hisses, head dropping to your shoulder. “I missed this. Missed how fucking loud you get for me.”

Your hips roll into his, chasing the friction, the tension that’s been building all night, for months, and he grunts, low and rough, dragging his teeth along your collarbone. By now you two are dry humping right by the front door of his dorm, and it’s absolutely filthy. The mixture of grunts and moans echo off the walls.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?”

You nod, eyebrows furrowed in quiet need. You’re clutching his shirt like you’ll fall without it. But he doesn’t give in, not fully. And you swear you’re about to cry with how fucking horny you are.

He grinds into you again, slow, the angle making his clothed buldge graze just right against your covered clit, your eyes rolling in pleasure. The friction is too much and yet still not enough.

Riki pulls his head back just enough to look at you, the eye contact making you dizzy.

“You think I’m just gonna fuck you against this wall?” he murmurs. “Let you come once and send you home?”

His smile is dangerous.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss just under your jaw, “I’m gonna take my time.” Another kiss, lower. “Make sure it lasts.” His hand slides beneath your top, palm splayed hot against your stomach. “Make sure you never forget what this feels like.”

You moan again, body arching into his touch, your fingers tugging his hair as he sucks bruises into your neck.

“Say you want it,” he whispers, teeth grazing your skin. “Say you want me to ruin you.”

“I want it,” you manage to get out, panting. “R-Riki, please…”

That’s all he needs. “Good girl.” He growls.

He holds onto you again, pulling you off the wall, and carries you towards his bedroom. The dorm is dark and quiet, roommate nowhere in sight. Not that you’d care if he was. You were too focused on wishing Riki was fucking you already.

You can barely breathe by the time he kicks his door shut.

He throws you onto the bed and climbs over you, mouth already back on yours. You meet him halfway, kissing back just as hungrily, your fingers dragging through his hair, nails scratching lightly down his clothed back, needing more.

It’s like you’re starving for each other. Like if you stop touching, you’ll stop breathing. At this point you think you actually might.

He kisses you deep, biting your lower lip, groaning when your hips lift to meet his. His body fits against you perfectly. You can feel every part of him hard and aching, pressed tight against you.

His hands explore you like he forgot nothing. He rediscovers every curve, every spot that makes you gasp. He memorized your body once, and now he’s reacquainting himself. Slowly. Thoroughly.

“Still so fucking perfect, baby” he murmurs, trailing kisses down your neck. “Still mine.”

You don’t correct him. You can’t.

Because a part of you deep down wants to be his.

In the middle of your tongues brushing against each other amidst kisses, he grinds into you again, making you moan so loud you have to slap your hand over your mouth, he grins against your chest.

“Don’t be quiet now,” he says, breathless. “I wanna hear you.”

He presses harder. His hands toying with the hem of your top, dragging it upwards so slow that it physically hurts, just enough to reveal your belly button.

“Wanna hear every single sound you make when I fuck you open again.”

Your eyes roll back.

You dig your nails into his shoulder, his shirt already riding up from the constant movement, and he kisses you again. Sloppier this time, more tongue, more teeth.

It’s filthy yet beautiful.

You’re sure you’re absolutely soaked by this point, feeling the mess made in your panties seeping through.

Your body arches into him, grinding back and meeting his hard-on with growing eagerness. You claw at his shirt, yanking it upwards until he rips it off himself and tosses it across the room.

What you see takes your breath away.

His abs, glistening with sweat, are visibly more toned. An obvious sign of hitting the gym more frequently ever since your break up. Though most shocking of all, he has a tattoo.

A big one.

One that stretches from his upper rib just until where his jeans hung low on his hips. Big, dark and new. You almost moan at the sight. Holy shit…

He must’ve realized what caught your attention, after following your gaze he just grins and leans down to whisper seductively against your cheek, breath hot. “You like it?”

You shiver. “Fuck…” You reach for him like instinct, reflex almost. He presses a kiss on your cheek.

The way he’s looking at you now, like he’s starving, makes your mouth go dry. His eyes drag over your body like he’s trying to memorize the exact way you’re spread out on his bed: skirt pushed halfway up your thighs, panties just barely peeking out; lips, red and kiss-swollen; cheeks flushed; top pushed up revealing your stomach; your breath still catching in small, desperate gasps.

“You’re in my room now, baby. No one’s saving you.”

You don’t want to be saved.

You want him.

The look in his eyes, a mix of danger and the certainty, makes something deep inside you clench so hard you nearly let out a soft moan.

“You think I forgot how to touch you?” he murmurs, pressing his palm to your bare thigh again, slowly trailing upwards as he hovers above you. “Think I forgot what your body does when I kiss you here?”

His lips press to your jaw, soft at first, then wetter. Lower. Your pulse thunders.

His hands are moving like they have all night. He pushes your top up even more, inch by inch. Riki watches as the skin of your chest begins to appear like it’s some sacred thing. His fingers trace the edges of your ribs, your waist, the faint dip of your stomach. He finally removes your top, leaving you spread out in your bra. Every touch burns.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this again,” he whispers, and his lips drag just below your collarbone. “How many times I thought about your mouth. Your thighs. The way you sound when I make you fall apart, whether on my hands, my tongue,” he licks a stripe just under your ear. “or my cock.”

You’re gasping now, hands tangled in his hair as he sucks another bruise into your skin, marks that you’ll definitely have to hide tomorrow, right above your chest.

“And you,” he says, lifting his head again. “You came into that closet acting like you didn’t miss me. Like you could handle me being that close.”

He smirks, wicked and smug.

“But you couldn’t. Could you?”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. In any other situation you would be irritated, embarrassed by his words, but right now hearing him speak in such a teasing way just makes the heat between pooling between your thighs burn even hotter.

He leans down again, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then your throat. He mouths down your chest, pausing just above your bra.

“You couldn’t even last two minutes before you were grinding on me again like you never left.”

“Riki-”

That name. His name, low and breathy from your lips, drives him insane. He groans, like it short-circuits his brain. “You have no idea what that does to me.”

His lips meet yours again, rushed, hot, possessive. He swallows the gasp you let out when his hand slips beneath the waistband of your skirt. Palming against your panties, heat seeping through against your clothed pussy.

Just resting there. Right where you want him. It’s maddening.

Your whole body pulses with need.

“You’re this wet already?” he mutters, breathless. “Fuck.”

You grind up with a whimper, cursing your panties in your mind for getting in the way of having his hands on your pussy again.

He pulls back.

“No,” he says, voice low and firm. “Let me take my time.”

His mouth returns to your stomach, your chest, dragging up further. His hand reaches behind your back and you arch just enough to allow him to unclasp your bra. He does so in one swift motion, your breasts now on full display.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He mumbles before quickly leaning down to trail kisses around one of your tits while he squeezes the other with his free hand.

“Fuck- Riki!” You moan out, when you feel his tongue flick against your nipple in between sucks. He alternates between your tits, making sure both of them get equal treatment. Your hand fists the sheets.

His mouth leaves your chest with a pop and you moan. Riki inches down slowly, painfully so, peeling your skirt off of you. All you can do is look down and watch.

He looks up at you from between your legs. His eyes are blown wide, dark with lust, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks.

“I want you to remember every fucking second of this.”

You whimper, head tilting back, and he leans in, close to your most sensitive spot. He peppers kisses down your inner thighs, maintaining eye contact the whole time. You’re soaked.

He’s groaning, teeth gritted, like he’s holding himself back by a thread.

Then after leaving small kisses and bites just under the area where your thigh meets your underwear, his head perks up, and his thumb rubs small circles on your leg.

“Tell me you want it. Say it. Say you want me to ruin you.”

“I want it,” you breathe, choking on it. “Riki, please-”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

He moans. Actually moans. Like it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard.

His hand finally moves. His fingers now dragging your soaked panties down and off of you before placing them gently aside. The cold air hits you and you shiver under his gaze, fully bare and spread out. All for him.

His head hovers just above your glistening pussy, strong hands holding your legs apart, placing them so that they go over his shoulders, giving him full access to your cunt.

“You want it now?” he says, you can feel his breath fanning over you. “Right here?”

God, he’s still such a tease.

You nod. Mouth parted and breathless, and he leans in.

Riki gives one long, slow lick up your slit, tongue flat and pressure hard, immediately making you arch with a soft moan. He holds on your legs with more force to keep you from squirming too much as he works kitten licks upon your aching pussy.

“I missed tasting you,” he pants in between licks. His tongue worked hard on your slit, his head now moving with small bobs which cause his nose to brush against your sensitive clit every single time. The feeling is overwhelming, moans escaping your lips while eats you out like he’s been starving.

Riki then starts pushing his tongue into your slick hole. “Ahh, oh my god!” You groan, your fingers tugging on his blond locks. The feeling makes him groan, creating a wave of vibration right against your pussy. Your eyes roll back in pleasure.

His tongue swipes up and down along your wet folds, making sure to explore every part of you. You twitch beneath him, a breathy moan resonates through the room before you can even stop it.

“Still so sensitive,” he murmurs against your skin. “Like your body never forgot me.”

You try to respond, to sass back, to say something, but then his mouth latches on you again, tongue flat and unrelenting.

Your head hits the pillow with a whimper.

“Fuck- Riki-”

That only makes him groan harder.

“I told you what that name does to me,” he growls, voice muffled between your thighs. “Say it again.”

“Riki!”

He sucks at your clit, hard, and your hips shoot off the bed.

He pins them down immediately, strong hands curling around your waist, holding you there like he owns every inch of you. Lapping at your soaking pussy.

And fuck, maybe he does.

No one else has ever made you feel like this. None of your past boyfriends; and none of your hook ups from after you broke up with Riki, desperately trying to get over him.

You barely even notice the sound of the front door opening from the main space of the dorm.

Not until you hear a faint laugh. A voice.

Jake.

Riki’s roommate.

Your eyes go wide. Riki doesn’t stop.

“Riki- Ah! Jake’s back-” you whisper, voice shaking as he fuck you open with his mouth.

He doesn’t stop.

In fact, he smirks.

“Yeah,” he says, lifting his head, lips and chin glistening. “I know.”

“Riki…”

He leans up, mouth ghosting over your ear.

“I want him to hear,” he whispers, teeth grazing your skin. “Want him to know who you belong to.”

The way he says it, low, confident, possessive, makes your entire body seize with heat.

And then he’s kissing you again. Hard, desperate. He makes you taste yourself, your own juices, as he works his tongue deep into your mouth, pushing against your own. The filthiness of the whole situation makes you lightheaded in the best way.

He grabs your wrist, lifts it over your head, and pins it there against the mattress. Then the other. He hovers above you with a dangerous look in his eye. His lips all swollen and his eyes dazed from eating you out. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick, and makes you watch as he licks it all up. Eye contact never wavers. A chill runs through you.

“You’re not holding back tonight,” he says leaning down, breath hot against your neck. “Not anymore.”

“Riki please, fuck me already…” you whimper, squirming under him. Your need grows with every passing second. “Want your cock inside me please-”

Riki grins, his eyes darkening at the sight of you, horny underneath him. “Shh, good girls are patient.” he whispers, voice deep. You whine.

His lips meet yours. It’s messy. He’s undoing his jeans and your hands immediately reach out to join his to help him. Once unzipped and pulled down, he kicks them off, jeans falling to the ground as your thumbs dips beneath the waistband of his boxers. You look up at him for approval, chest heaving. He gives you a small nod, need evident in his expression. You pull the fabric down and his cock springs out. Long, hard, and twitching. Precum forming on his pink tip.

“Good girl,” He groans, “see what you do to me? Hm?”

You don’t respond, instead you reach out and wrap a hand around his sensitive cock, your thumb smearing the precum across his tip. Your touch sends his head tilting back with a drawn out moan as you stroke firm but slow.

“Fuck… baby, let me take care of it”

Finally, Riki grabs his length, stroking a few times, before he drags it across your wet folds. Your slick drips onto his cock with every drag. You feel his tip nudge against your clit a few times, making you jolt underneath him. After deciding it’s coated enough, he positions himself comfortably above you, lining his thick cock up against your aching hole, and slowly pushes in.

You gasp. Loud.

Riki watches your expression as he sinks into you. His hips lower against yours until his cock is fully wrapped around your warm, gummy walls. The intrusion makes your head spin, it’s too much. Too good. God, did you miss how he filled you up.

“Fuck!” you cry out, head thrown back as your eyebrows furrow. His hand finds it’s place at the curve where your hip meets your thigh, holding you for maximum leverage as he braces to begin thrusting, waiting for you to make that expression, the one that you always made when you had adjusted to his size and were ready. One he never forgot and had been hoping to see again.

“That’s it,” he groans, teeth gritted. “Let me fucking hear you. Let everyone hear you.”

He starts to move, slow at first, grinding deep with every thrust. It’s like he’s trying to etch the shape of you back into his memory. Your legs wrap around his waist without thinking and he sinks even deeper. His thrusts increase in speed by a fraction, eliciting soft moans out of you everytime his hips made contact with yours, cock buried deep within you.

“Oh my god- Riki!”

“You missed this?” he hisses. “You missed my cock, didn’t you? You’re so tight.” He readjusts his grip on your hip as he essentially drags you up and down on his length, helping him reach deeper into you. Your hands run down his bare chest, feeling the soft dips where his abs are, defined and displayed perfectly above you. Your fingers slow when they meet his large rib tattoo, moving over inked skin.

You nod, breathless.

“You missed the way I ruin you?”

His pace picks up and Riki growls. His calculated thrusts turning into something rougher. He pounds into you, the sound of skin on skin resonating through the room as his balls slam hard against your backside at the speed he’s fucking you dumb.

The headboard bumps the wall, rhythmic and obvious. A hand of his reaches down to grab one of your tits, which at this point were bouncing along with his movement, squeezing and twisting your nipple. “Ngh… fuck!” Every breath you take is mixed with a groan at how good he’s making you feel.

You attempt to bite your lip to muffle the sounds you’re releasing, concerned about how loud you’re getting alongside the knowledge that you two were no longer the only ones in the dorm. Riki notices and grabs your face, firm but not harsh.

“No,” he says, voice sharp. “Don’t do that. Let it out.”

You’re panting now, sobbing moans, your legs starting to shake. Your hands grip Riki’s back, trying to hold onto him as he continues to ram his cock into your wet pussy. Your nails lightly digging into the skin of his back.

“Let Jake hear you fall apart for me. F-Fuck… You couldn’t stay away from me, huh?” He angles his hips upwards, allowing him to fuck you open so much deeper. The new angle makes you see stars, you yelp out in pleasure.

“I love your noises, fuck… No one makes you feel the way I do, hm?”

You moan again, the loudest you think you’ve ever been. He lets out a groan in response, guttural, slamming into you harder. “Your pussy got so soaked for me baby, just from kissing too. Filthy girl.”

That nickname does something to you. You instinctively clench around him, he grunts. “Ah, don’t squeeze like that-”

It’s insane. The heat, the friction, the way he holds you down like you’re his to break.

“Louder, baby,” he grits. “Be good for me.”

Your whole body tightens, you’re now writhing beneath him, trembling.

Riki just watches everything. The way your face contorts with every thrust. The way your tits sway below him, chest rising and falling rapidly. The way his cock disappears within you with every drag.

You’re close.

He knows.

So he slows down.

You whimper. “No- please- don’t stop-”

“I said I’d take my time,” he growls, leaning down to leave kisses down your throat. “You don’t get to come until I say.”

“Riki!”

His mouth moves and he crashes his lips onto yours. Hot and wet, dragging his tongue over them before pulling back and whispering. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you breathe. “I’ve always been yours.”

Riki lets out a shaky breath. His hands adjusting on your sides for maximum grip, holding you so tight you wonder if it’s beginning to bruise.

He looks into your eyes, expression filled with desire, and he drives into you with a new kind of urgency.

You scream.

Riki’s pace never falters even as your body begins to fall apart under him. He fucks you through it all, hard. His lips latch on your neck, voice in your ear, low and ragged and full of things he never used to say.

“I missed this. Missed you.” The filthy sounds of your skin slapping against one another echoed through the room that now smelled of pure sex. “You were always the only one, Y/N. F-fuck…”

“Ahh harder! Harder, Riki please-” You whine, embarrassingly loud but in this moment, you don’t really care.

“Look at me Y/N. Keep your eyes on me.” Riki pants, his thrusts strong but growing sloppy, a sign he too was getting close. He slams into you with hunger, cock piercing through you. “Wanna watch you when you come.”

The sound of the headboard slamming harshly against the wall rings out. You make sure to look up at Riki the whole time. With every shattering slam of his cock into your core, you hold onto him a little tighter. His back, biceps, whatever is in reach. His hand reaches down and starts to rub your clit frantically, in sync with his movements. The sensations quickly become overwhelming.

You can feel the coil winding tighter, threatening to snap at any second. “Oh my god- Fuck! Riki im gonna- Ah!”

“Come on my cock baby.”

He drives into you with such precision and force, his fingers working overtime on your swollen clit. Soon, you feel your release come over you, and you’re shaking in his arms, completely drenching the sheets beneath you. Your mouth opens in ecstasy with a scream of his name, “Riki!” and your eyes roll to the back of your head. He fucks you through it.

“Fuck baby, look at you” Riki admires your flushed state beneath him as his movements grow even sloppier than before. “I’m gonna fill you so good.”

Suddenly you feel his warm juices spilling into your fucked out pussy, his hips pressed up against you. He groans, long and drawn out, right by your ear. His head bows down into your shoulder as he rides out his high, thrusts slowing before stopping completely, cock milked dry.

You can feel his chest heaving atop your own, and before you can register it, you’re wrapping your arms around his warm body, pulling him closer. Both of you in a fucked out daze.

Riki pants, pressing a soft and slow kiss against your cheek, bodies still interlinked. “You’re unreal. I missed you so fucking much Y/N.” It comes out breathless, but his words ignite something warm in your chest. You know, deep down, that this isn’t just a one-night mistake. This is you, unraveling all over again.

For him, only him.

And maybe, you’re okay with it.

You lose track of how many times he makes you come.

Some with his fingers, others with his mouth.

Another when he has you on your knees on the bed, hands braced against the wall, his voice rasping filth in your ear as he rams into you from behind.

That one nearly ends you.

Because that’s the wall that connects his bedroom to his roommates’.

To Jake’s bedroom.

Of course, Riki was well aware of that fact, and he is absolutely insane.

He presses you hard against the wall, one hand’s long fingers curled firmly around your throat just enough to make your breath hitch, his other hand on your hips as he guided you back onto his length from behind.

“Think he can hear you?” he whispers against your ear, cock buried so deep it makes your vision blur. “The way you’re moaning for me?”

You gasp, clenching around him involuntarily. Your sounds are smaller than usual due to the nerve-wracking situation that was being fucked right up against Riki’s roomates’ wall. He would definitely hear if he wasn’t dead asleep or something similar. “Ngh- Riki!”

“Oh? She’s shy now?” he taunts, grinning against your shoulder that had now been plastered with bruises and bites. “You weren’t shy when I had my tongue in you twenty minutes ago.”

He thrusts again, deliberately. Deep and slow, drawing a long moan out of you that makes heat seep to your cheeks. The kind of thrust that makes your whole body jerk forward and thump lightly against the wall. You attempt to choke on your moans. Try to stifle them against your arm.

Riki did not like that. He rams into you harder.

“Tsk. None of that.”

You shake your head, whining. “I can’t- he’ll hear-”

He continues to wreck your fucked hole with precision. The knowledge that you two might be heard did turn you on, but the tinge of embarrassment was still there, hence you trying to silence yourself. A hard task when Riki is just too damn good at fucking you.

“I want him to hear, baby” He breathes lowly, voice wrecked. “Let him know that you missed me too.”

When you cry out; high and breathless and creaming on his cock once again, both your slicks mixing and dripping down your thighs and his balls; he smiles.

It goes on for hours.

Different positions, different angles, even different parts of the bed. Your legs shake with the effort of keeping up. You love it.

You can’t stop moaning, gasping his name like a lifeline. Like it’s the only word you know. Every time you think he’s finally done, he kisses you again before pushing your legs apart.

“Just one more,” he whispers. “You can do it. I haven’t ruined you enough yet.”

It’s not just about sex.

It’s about claiming. About making sure you never forget what it’s like to be his.

Now, you never want to forget.

By the time he finally presses you into the mattress for the last time, with a low and desperate groan, filling you up with his seed that seeps out the moment he pulls out, you’re gone.

Sweaty? Yes.

Fucked out in every way? Yes.

But are you smiling? God, yes.

You’re so high on him that you feel like you could float.

He disappears to the bathroom for a moment and comes back with a damp cloth, cleaning you up, his hands gentle around your swollen pussy, utmost care laced in how he navigates his hands. Your comfort is his priority. Riki brushes your hair off your forehead like he didn’t just completely destroy you for the past three hours.

Afterwards, you collapse on top of him. Both still naked, skin to skin, but neither of you minded. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek.

He holds you, and doesn’t let go.

Soon, you’re overcome with sleep, lips swollen, legs sore, every inch of you aching; but in the best way possible.

You don’t know how long you were out for. Could be anywhere from ten minutes to two hours, but when you open your eyes slightly, it’s still dark, still quiet.

Riki is still awake, one arm propped up under his head on the pillow, the other still wrapped around you.

He hasn’t noticed you’ve woken up, fingers running through your hair, slow and thoughtful. You keep your breathing steady, trying to drift back to sleep, when he says something that you don’t expect.

“I’ll do anything to keep you like this.” he mumbles, barely above a whisper.

His words are so raw that it splinters something inside you, the edge of hurt evident in the soft way he spoke.

You open your eyes discreetly, looking up at him. His brows are furrowed, jaw clenched as his hands mindlessly play with your hair, eyes on the ceiling.

You didn’t leave because you wanted to. You left because you had to. Because loving Riki felt like drowning.

But now? It was clear that he had changed.

You weren’t finding yourself falling once again because of the sex, though admittedly that was the best you’d ever been fucked, it was because of him.

How now his touch, no matter innocent or filthy, was always laced with absolute care.

How he now looked at you with a spark in his eye, like you meant the world to him.

How his words now came out more genuine and natural than they used to.

You two had fucked many times before, but this time was different, he was different.

You don’t respond. You don’t let him know that you had woken up. Instead, you simply wrap your arms around him just a little tighter, face buried a little deeper in the crook of his neck.

He tenses for a second, you feel it, before he relaxes against you, pulling you close.

The ache in your chest has never felt more like home.

You two wake intertwined the next morning, surprisingly early considering the time you had stayed up until, pressed all over one another.

After a slow morning of soft kisses in bed, you agreed to talk about where you stood after getting some nutrition in your systems.

So now, you’re sat on the kitchen counter, wearing one of Riki’s old hoodies as he attempted to put togehter a very healthy breakfast of pancakes. You watched his every move, he was trying so hard not to mess up after a failed flip led to pancake batter all over the floor just a few minutes prior. Lots of laughs were let out when that happened.

Then suddenly,

A slow clap.

You both freeze.

Jake’s leaning in the doorway of his bedroom, which led right into the kitchen area of the main space of the dorm. His arms crossed and expression blank, except for the shit-eating grin playing at his lips. Oh god…

“Well, well, well,” he drawls.

Riki groans under his breath.

You turn beet red.

“You two are disgusting.”

All you can do is smile apologetically.

ex!ni-ki x f!reader smut (18+ minors dni), college/university au, second chances wc 653 teaser // 10.6k fic

blurb! you haven’t seen NISHIMURA RIKI since the messy breakup that tore you apart months ago. he couldn’t commit, couldn’t give what you needed, so you left, empty and heartbroken. then one night, at a house party, you spot him. your friends warned you. you swore you were done. but what happens when a game shoves you into a dark closet, alone together?

warnings! unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, argument, 7 minutes in heaven, making out, grinding, dry humping, oral sex (f), ni-ki rib tattoo, petnames (baby, good/filthy girl), exhibitionism, poor jake lol

a/n! i was listening to the song ‘12 to 12’ and somehow conjured up this plot, it doesn’t really follow the song's actual story, but it made me think of this scenario, so here we are (≧◡≦). kinda got carried away LOL HOW'D THIS GET TO 10K WORDS... aaa this is my first time writing, lmk if you want to be tagged!

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, and does not reflect how the characters actually are irl, nor does it represent my views of them. side characters from other groups may not be accurately written. not proofread.

The bass is thumping through the walls of the house like a second heartbeat. Someone has spilled beer on the couch already, while someone else is screaming the lyrics to a song they don’t even know. Minju is clutching your hand, the two of you on the lookout for the rest of your friends, who seem to have already wandered off the second that some alcohol got into their systems. The warm and dim mood light that filled the space made it more difficult to find anyone. All bodies blending into one from a distance. Her grip on you is firm, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You kind of already have.

You’re physically here. In this house that has quickly become far too hot with the number of people shoved into it, the crowded living room you were in is surrounded by faces you don’t even recognize half of. Your mind however, is somewhere else. Stuck somewhere twenty minutes ago. Caught in the moment you bumped into him.

You had just arrived and were weaving your way through the crowd, barely missing the splatter of drinks being thrown around by swaying, half-drunk bodies. You were pulled away from Minju and the others the second that you stepped foot in the rented house, attempting to regroup with your friends while also making a short detour to the table with the punch.

‘Pure fuel’

You had absolutely no idea what was in it but at this point you didn’t really care, just wanting to let loose for a night.

Your friends had dragged you out of your dorm because you had been cooped up in there for nights on end, far too focused on studying and trying not to think too hard about a certain someone. You thought you may as well have a little fun now that you’re here.

After pushing past some strangers, the large glass punch bowl came into view and you immediately held onto the kitchen counter to steady yourself, the amount of people in this house was no joke. Without looking, you reached for a red solo cup, ready to get buzzed, when you felt the soft brush of fingers against yours. You jolt. Someone from behind you had reached out at the exact same time you did.

“Oh, sorry” You mumbled softly, pulling back to allow the stranger to go first.

But as the stranger moved to pour himself a drink, pressed up against your side, your body began to remember. A specific scent of strong cologne. A familiar warmth. Your heart instantly knew but your brain was still catching up. You turned.

Nishimura Riki.

Aside from his freshly bleached hair and broader shoulders. Damn he’s been working out. Everything else about him was still the same. The sharpness in his features. The calm arrogance in the way he carries himself. The way people stop and stare when he walks through a room, not because he wants them to, but because his presence demands it. The boy you once loved.

Your stomach folds inwards, hands tightening around the counter. You don’t realize you’re staring until he looks down at you.

Upon meeting your gaze his eyebrows raise ever so slightly, only noticeable to you, who’s looking right back at him. He’s surprised, you can tell, not expecting to see you here. A flicker of emotion runs behind his eyes, something almost like hurt flashes, so fast you hardly register it before he quickly regains his composure.

You feel your cheeks heat up sligthly at being caught staring. He just finishes pouring his drink before smirking at you in that naturally flirty way he does, placing the ladle of the punch bowl down as he disappears into the crowd. Gone, again. As if he was never there.

—

In a moment of weakness, you whisper, “Do you still think about me?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “More than I’d like to admit.”