( 西村 力 ) ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ oral (f receiving) ⋆ praise kink ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ munch riki propaganda ⋆ bfs!niki ⋆ mentions of alcohol : 562
──── in which ︵ niki’s drunk enough to lose his filter, and obsessed enough to bury his face between your legs like he never wants to come up.
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the bass thumps faintly through the walls, but up here, in the bedroom, the air feels thick and slow. like the world stopped moving the second you let niki press you down against the bed, eyes glassy, lips swollen, drunk off cheap whiskey and the thought of getting you like this—under him. for him.
or more accurately, above him.
he’s on his knees between your thighs, flushed and mouthy, palms pushing up under your skirt like he’s impatient just to feel where you’re warm.
your panties hit the floor ages ago, somewhere between breathy giggles and him whispering “c’mere– i– let me...please, i…i need it– haah...”
now? his face is buried in you like he means it.
“fuck– baby,” he groans against your inner thigh, kissing it sloppily, tongue dragging a line up toward your heat. “you’re so soft. can’t stop thinkin’ about this. can’t—”
he doesn’t finish. just licks again, slower this time, his tongue flat and warm as it presses into your folds, collecting slick with a deep, hungry sound in his throat. he buries his mouth against you, breath hot and wet, tongue working through the mess like he’s savoring every inch.
your hips twitch. you’re already dizzy.
“wanted you all night,” he mutters, kissing the top of your mound like it’s something sacred. “and you’ve been sittin’ there, bein’ sooo sweet—lookin’ at me like that…”
you don’t even realize how tight you’re gripping his hair until he groans again, tongue dipping down low to circle your entrance. he noses deeper like he wants to drown in it, breath dragging out in a ragged, half-drunk moan when your thighs try to clamp around his head.
“n- niki…” you whimper. you can barely think. his jaw is working so messily between your legs, and his nose—fuck, it presses up right against your clit every time he licks upward, slick building with every pass of his tongue.
he doesn’t wait for permission. doesn’t tease nor slow down. he spreads you open with both thumbs and devours—broad, greedy strokes from base to tip, then quick little flicks right over your clit like he knows it’ll make you jump.
“don’t care,” he says into you, slurring it a little, voice sticky and full of praise. “i’ll be good. just—lemme taste. please.”
he’s so drunk and it’s making him reckless. he kisses your pussy like he doesn’t know what shame is—mouth open, chin wet, tongue messy and constant. he moans again when your hips grind up into his face, and he fuckin' ruts against the mattress like the taste of you is getting him off.
“fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, licking harder now, rougher.
“could stay here all night. you’d let me, wouldn’t you? sweet girl,”
his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling it sloppily while his nose bumps against it with every twitch of his head. you cry out, legs tightening, trying to run—but he grips your hips, growling low, and buries himself deeper.
“that’s it...baby–let me have it.”
and with the way his mouth is moving—wet, hot, tongue stroking fast and needy—you do. you cum shaking against his face, back arching, moaning something close to a sob as his name stutters off your lips.
and niki? he moans too, like you did something to him.
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