kiss it better - nishimura riki 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁
₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“In which reader teaches her dear friend how to treat a woman right. Or in which reader teaches ni-ki how to give head”
⁺ ❤︎ ⊹ ₊ ͏͏✧ Content: +18MDNI
fem! reader x ni-ki, friends to lovers, usage of riki and ni-ki, oral sex (f. rec), masturbation (f), reader is in charge, fingering, spitting, face riding, needy! ni-ki, pussy drunk! ni-ki (he’s a mess) grinding, coming undone, slight voye.
hate comments will be deleted and blocked !! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3
Summer trip was always fun with your friend group. But this year was one of your favourites, there was nothing like spending the day on a tanning bed beneath the burning sun, chewing on fresh watermelon after a dive in the beautiful clear waters of the ocean, surrounded by your favorite people in the whole world.
The hotel pool glowed under the summer night, wrapped in string lights and the kind of drunken laughter that only came when everyone forgot about the world outside vacation. Music pulled from a speaker, bass steady. The air smelled like sunscreen and chlorine and you were tasting something fruity on your tongue from the drink you just finished.
You had just slid back into the water, the chill clinging to your skin as you moved through the shallow end. Your bikini hugged your body, still damp from earlier, and your hair stuck to your shoulders in soft waves. Most of your friends where on the deck now, draped across pool chairs or sprawled on towels, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth and yelling about nonsense.
Ni-ki was the only one still on the water.
He floated on his back with his eyes closed, legs lazily moving to keep him afloat, looking so relaxed like he didn’t have a single care in the world. So him.
You swam closer, water swirling around your waist, and nudged his side with your hand.
“Let me.” He murmured, not even opening his eyes “Feels like a good way to go.”
A small laugh left your lips.
Ni-ki opened one eye then, just enough to flash you a lazy smile
“Says the girl who almost cried when we splashed on her drink.”
“That was an expensive drink.”
“You’re expensive” He shot back, quickly.
That caught you off guard, and you blinked.
It wasn’t even that serious, just Ni-ki being Ni-ki. But still, it stuck. Hit something strange and sudden in your chest. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his gaze lingered a bit too long before flicking away. You’d always thought he was cute. Objectively, anyways. It wasn’t like you were blind, Ni-ki was tall and lean and had that perfect face that made even simple hoodies and cotton sweatpants look good. He was your friend, sure, you’d known him for years now. The same friend that threw up on your lap in Sunghoon’s backseat last summer, the same friend that stole your notes because he never did his homework on time. But that never stopped the thoughts that stuck in your head sometimes, thoughts you never let stay.
But for some reason, tonight felt different.
He ducked under the water suddenly, disappearing from your view. You barely had time to react before strong hands grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you with a splash, so easily.
You shrieked, laughing, trying to escape.
He just laughed, breathless and smug as you turned and splashed him back, right in the face. You were both soaked now, your bikini clinging tighter to your tanned skin, water streaming down your neck.
Ni-ki was still close, enough to feel the warmth radiating off him even in the cool water. His hands already dropped from your waist, but you could still feel them.
You felt your breathing shake as your eyes met his. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite name. Like heavy and charged.
Then he blinked, swam backwards, and said casually.
You barely had time to ignore the feeling before Heeseung called out from his chair, arms spread like he was announcing something big.
“Let’s play a game.” He said “Truth or dare.”
“We always do that. I’ve lost the count on the amount of times I’ve licked Sunghoon’s neck”
Your friends laughed at him, and you chuckled under your breath.
“Never have I ever then. Loser has to buy all our drinks tomorrow.”
Groans followed, but no one said no. You all gathered near the edge, some wrapped in towels and half-drunk already.
You ended up sitting next to Ni-ki, still damp, still trying to ignore the echo of his hands on your waist.
The game started innocent as always.
“Never have I ever lied to a date.”
“Never have I ever faked an orgasm”
“Never have I ever cheated”
The group slowly loosened between sips, laughter and more laughter, getting louder and messier by the second.
“Okay, I have one.” Heeseung then leaned in, grinning. “Never have I ever gone down on someone”
A few hands went up, including yours.
You didn’t look around, didn’t think much of it, but then you noticed that Ni-ki didn’t move.
He just sat there, calm, fingers tapping slowly on the ground. Then you turned your head.
He looked at you, then shrugged.
“Wait wait wait - you’ve never gone down on a girl?”
Sunoo gasped, hand flying to his chest
Heeseung was already laughing
“Bro. That’s practically illegal.”
Jake leaned in like he was interrogating him.
“You scared of it or something?”
Ni-ki scoffed and pushed him.
Ni-ki leaned back on his elbows, his expression unreadable. He didn’t look embarrassed, but he didn’t look thrilled by their teasing either. You didn’t expect it, to be honest, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a playboy, but he wasn’t a saint either, you’d seen him a thousand times shoving down his tongue in random girls throats at parties.
“I just haven’t found the right person yet.”
That only made the boys laugh louder. Heeseung clutched his chest and someone said something about how he was a “certified mouth virgin”.
You watched Ni-ki stay still through it all, quiet.
Something in your chest pulled tight, and you sat up a little straighter.
“Okay, enough.” You said, cutting through the noise “What are we? Twelve?”
The group quieted a little, eyes turning to you.
“He’s just waiting for the right person, that’s not a bad thing.” You glanced at Ni-ki, met his eyes again. He looked back at you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or grab your hand. “It’s not that deep. Honestly, most guys think they know how to do it, just doing it doesn’t mean you’re good at it.”
Ni-ki still hadn’t looked away from you.
But as the group moved on, laughing at the next prompt, the air between you didn’t shift back. It felt heavier.
The hotel was quiet now, after the chaos of earlier. You could still hear faint laughter from somewhere down the hall, someone’s speaker muffled behind the closed doors, but for the most part, you started to settle.
Your skin smelled like sunscreen and coconut from your body spray as you stood at the sink in your oversized tee and underwear, hair half-damp and twisted into a towel, the bathroom mirror foggy from your shower. Your limbs ached in a satisfying way that only summer could bring.
You were just about to crawl into bed when the knock came.
One, two, three soft raps, hesitant.
You froze for a second, staring at your reflection wondering who could it be this late at night. Then you padded across the room and peeked through the peephole, opening the door without thinking.
Ni-ki stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, hair damp and curling slightly around his ears.
You blinked, a bit surprised about his visit and the unsettling look on his face.
He nodded, but didn’t move.
Then you stepped back, opening the door a little wider.
He didn’t answer, just walked in, quiet, his presence filling your small hotel room instantly. You shut the door behind him, suddenly too aware of how you were dressed, and the silence between you two.
He looked around, then sat on the edge of the bed like he’d done it a thousand times before.
But now it felt different.
“You good?” You asked again, crossing your arms trying to play it cool.
He nodded again, slower this time.
“Yeah. I just… couldn’t sleep.”
You leaned against the dresser, watching him. He was staring at the carpet, then at his hands. Then up at you.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He admitted and your heart thudded.
“That it’s not about doing it, it’s about knowing how to treat someone.” He paused. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
You swallowed, his voice was lower now, like each word was deliberate.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you” you said.
“I wasn’t embarrassed.” He replied “I just… never talked about it out loud.”
There was a long pause, and you waited, but he didn’t look away.
“I think that’s why I came here.”
“To talk?” you asked, even thought you were sure that wasn’t what he meant.
He smiled a little but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You stepped a little closer before you could overthink it, the soft carpet sinking under your feet. You were standing between his knees now, and he was looking up at you from the edge of the bed.
“Riki” You said softly “Why did you come here?”
But the silence that followed cracked open something between you, something thick and heavy and real. You felt it settle over your shoulders, wrap around your ribs. Your skin prickled with awareness, his breath, your proximity, the weight of what you weren’t saying.
“Because I want to know what it’s like.”
His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.
“To be with someone who actually wants to teach me. Who doesn’t think I’m weird for not knowing. Who… wants me to get it right.”
He wasn’t smiling now. He wasn’t teasing. He looked serious, vulnerable, even. And it did something to you. Twisted something deep in your stomach. This was your friend, that not only trusted you enough to ask you this but you also thought he was cute and hot and perfect.
The room felt hot. Too small. Too quiet. His thumbs rubbed slow circles into your thighs now, and you realized he hadn’t looked away from you once.
“Okay,” you breathed. “Then come here.”
Ni-ki shifted before he could even think, his hands sliding up to your hips like instinct. And when he leaned forward, lips brushing yours, it was cautious at first. Feather-light. Testing.
You tilted your head and leaned into it.
The kiss deepened slowly, like water spilling over the edge of a full glass. His mouth was warm, hesitant but eager, lips moving with just enough pressure to make your knees weaken. You could feel the tremble in him, like he was holding back, waiting to be told it was okay to want this. To want you. So you gave it to him. One hand slipped into his hair, anchoring, and the other trailed down his jaw, guiding him as your mouths melted into each other. His breath hitched against your lips when you sucked gently on his bottom one, and he made the softest, most desperate sound, half whimper, half groan. He opened his mouth and his tongue crashed with yours, wet sounds as you tasted his saliva on your own, sighing softly against him feeling how his fingers dig into the bare skin of your thighs.
You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth.
“Get on your knees, Riki.”
He blinked up at you, dazed, lips red, eyes wide.
His hands slid down your thighs as he sank slowly to the floor in front of you. Kneeling. Breath shallow. Waiting.
Completely at your mercy.
He looked up at you, already breathless. You could see it in his face, that eager, desperate curiosity masked by restraint. Like he was doing everything he could not to touch. Not to beg.
You didn’t say anything at first.
Just reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, intentionally slow. You felt his gaze drag over every inch of skin as it was revealed, your bare breasts in front of him, nipples hard the second the cold air of the room touched them. His pupils were already blown wide, jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react. You dropped the shirt beside you, left in just your panties.
The overhead light was off, but the warm hotel lamp behind him painted your skin gold, throwing soft shadows along your collarbones, the curve of your stomach, the tops of your thighs.
Ni-ki looked like he’d stopped breathing.
“You okay?” you asked softly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I just—fuck.”
The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Rough and a little hoarse, like it had scraped his throat just coming out.
You slipped your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear.
His eyes dropped instantly.
You swore you saw his fingers flex again, digging into his jeans like it physically hurt not to reach for you.
You slid them down slowly, stepping out of them with a grace that felt foreign even to yourself, because god, the way he was looking at you was doing something to your head. Like you were the first naked girl he’d ever seen. Like he didn’t know what to do with the sight of you. Your bare intimacy was in front of him now, and you were dripping, glistening arousal that you hadn’t even noticed until that point, pulsing and needy and wanting him.
When you stood fully bare in front of him, you saw his throat bob as he swallowed. Hard.
“Still okay?” you asked again, voice barely above a whisper.
He looked up at you like you were unreal. Like you weren’t even part of the same world.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed out, like it slipped from him without warning. “I don’t—what the fuck.”
Heat crawled up your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like that. Not with that kind of reverence. Not like he was wrecked by just seeing you.
“You wanna learn how to do this right?” you asked, stepping closer until your knees touched the edge of the mattress.
He nodded, already breathless.
“Yeah. I want to learn everything.”
You smiled, heart pounding, then gently climbed onto the bed.
“Then watch me,” you whispered against his lips, not kissing him yet. “And listen to me. I’ll show you exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”
Settling back against the pillows until you were laying flat, you parted your legs just enough to keep him staring.
His breath audibly caught.
From below, he had the clearest view. Your skin glowing under the dim bedside lamp, the soft rise and fall of your chest, your thighs spread open with nothing hidden. Your dripping, swollen pussy. You watched his eyes flick from your face to between your legs, and stay there.
“You still with me?” you asked, your voice low and teasing.
He nodded slowly. “I’ve never—fuck, I’ve never seen anyone like this. Like you.”
Your core tightened at the way he said it, raw, reverent.
You bent one knee, dragging your heel up onto the mattress, spreading yourself more for him, breathing heavily, your heart pumping against your chest and your pussy pulsing under his gaze.
“Then pay attention,” you murmured, bringing your fingers between your thighs. “I’m gonna show you how I like it.”
Ni-ki looked wrecked already, and you hadn’t even touched yourself yet.
You started slow, fingers gliding down to part yourself gently. Your other hand gripped the sheets beside your ribs as you circled your clit, slow and lazy. Soft breaths fell from your lips.
You let your eyes drift shut for a moment, focusing on the warmth building low in your stomach. But you could feel his eyes on you. Could almost hear the tension in his throat as he swallowed thickly, breathing uneven.
“Can you see?” you asked, voice hazy, cracked at the edges.
“Yeah,” he said, too fast. “Yeah, I can see everything.”
You glanced down at him through your lashes. He looked dazed. Kneeling obediently between your legs, jaw tense, his hands fisted at his sides like touching himself would break whatever spell you’d put him under.
“Does it make sense now?” you breathed, dragging your fingers lower to gather slick and bring it back up, circling with a bit more pressure. “It’s not about being rough. It’s about paying attention.”
A faint smirk tugged at your lips. You were soaked already, turned on by your own touch—but also by him. The way he looked at you. Like he was watching something sacred. Like he’d get on his knees for you again and again if it meant seeing you like this.
You kept your eyes on him as your fingers moved, lazy, deliberate circles that made your hips twitch every now and then. You weren’t putting on a show. This was real. You wanted him to see what it looked like when it was good. When someone took their time. When someone cared.
And judging by the look on his face, Ni-ki was already on the edge of losing his mind.
Still on his knees, his jaw was tight, lips parted like he kept forgetting how to breathe. His hands had fisted into the hem of his hoodie, knuckles pale from the grip. You could see how tense his thighs were. You could see the bulge against his jeans, hard and throbbing. How his chest rose and fell too fast.
You tilted your head, voice smooth and low.
“You want to touch me, don’t you?”
His eyes shot up to yours, wide and ruined.
You let out a soft hum, letting your fingers slow, just enough to keep the pleasure alive.
“I know,” you said. “You’ve been staring like you’re starving.”
“I am,” he groaned, frustrated. “You’re—fuck, you’re driving me insane.”
You gave him a slow, lazy smile.
“Good. That means it’s working.”
He let out a strangled breath, his hands twitching again, like he didn’t know whether to beg or fall apart.
“Can I… please?” he tried, his voice rough. “Just a little—let me touch you.”
“You are touching me,” you said sweetly, dragging your fingers through your slick just to show him. You brought them to your mouth, tasting yourself on them before sliding them between your legs again “With your eyes. Can’t you feel it?”
He looked like you’d punched the air out of him.
“Don’t worry,” you added, voice a little lower, “I want you desperate.”
He exhaled shakily, dropping his gaze to your thighs again. His whole body was tense, on edge, like he was fighting every urge in his body to crawl up the bed and ruin the distance between you.
“You said you wanted to learn,” you reminded him. “So listen when I tell you this, Riki.”
He looked up again. Waiting.
“Pussy isn’t about technique. Not really. You can memorize all the tricks, flick your tongue every direction—but none of it matters if you’re not obsessed with the way she tastes. The way she feels when she’s shaking under you. The way she moans when you find the spot that makes her legs tremble.”
He blinked like he wasn’t breathing again.
“And if you’re not ready to worship her,” you whispered, dragging your fingers slow and deep between your folds, “then you’ve already failed.”
“Holy fuck,” he choked out, his voice barely a sound.
Your smile turned wicked.
“I haven’t even let you touch me yet and you’re falling apart. What do you think’s gonna happen when I put your mouth here?”
He groaned and tilted forward slightly on his knees, like the weight of your words pushed him closer.
You paused your hand and raised a brow.
He nodded quickly, voice rough.
“Please. You’re killing me.”
Your chest rose with slow, smug satisfaction. He was so close—so close to breaking.
“You wanna taste me that bad?” you asked.
“So bad I think I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
You let your hand drop from between your legs and spread your thighs a little wider, baring yourself completely for him, your wetness dripping between your folds until you were soaking the bed beneath you.
“Then come closer,” you said softly.
He crawled forward the second you gave him permission, kneeling between your legs like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do. His hands hovered just above your thighs, like he still wasn’t sure if he could touch you yet. You reached down and threaded your fingers into his hair, gently tugging until he looked up at you.
“Slow,” you murmured. “I want you to take your time.”
“Start soft,” you said. “Don’t rush. Just… taste.”
He nodded, breath catching like he was trying to anchor himself, but his hands were already trembling as they finally landed on your thighs. His touch was reverent, almost like he thought you’d vanish if he wasn’t careful. He leaned in slowly, plump and wet lips brushing the inside of your thigh first, and you gasped at the contact. Just a kiss. Just barely there. But it lit up your nerves like a fuse.
The warmth of his breath followed, and your skin prickled with goosebumps. His mouth moved again, pressing another kiss, this time closer. He wasn’t rushing. He was listening. To your voice. To your breathing. To the way your thighs tensed when he got nearer to where you really wanted him.
You threaded your fingers tighter into his hair, guiding him, not forcing, just showing him you were there.
He looked up once, like he wanted to be sure, and when you gave the smallest nod, he lowered his head again, mouth finally dragging over your pussy, hot and open.
The first lick was cautious, just a flick of his tongue, but you moaned softly anyway, hips twitching up toward him. You could feel how his breath hitched in response, how the small sound you made seemed to fuel him.
His lips parted again, tongue sliding a little firmer now between your soaked folds, tasting like he’d never tasted anything before. Like he was memorizing every part of you. The way your thighs shook. The way your breath caught. The way your fingers gripped tighter at his scalp when he hit the right spot, tongue licking wet and hot and perfect over your swollen clit.
“Good,” you whispered. “That’s good… just like that.”
He let out a low sound against you, something desperate, something needy. His hands slid up to your hips like he couldn’t help himself anymore, holding you in place, mouth pressing deeper. The flat of his tongue moved in slow, indulgent strokes, and your stomach clenched, your toes curling against the sheets beneath you.
You exhaled shakily, fingers still buried in his hair, the sight of him between your legs already enough to keep your head spinning. He was trying, so hard, too. Tongue warm, mouth open, but a little unsure still, like he wasn’t convinced he was doing it right even though your thighs kept clenching around his ears.
“Riki,” you murmured, voice a little breathless, “slower—press your tongue flat. Yeah, like that.”
You felt him pause, adjust, and then try again, this time dragging the full weight of his tongue through your folds, slower, deeper, like he was tasting you properly now. Your hips lifted off the bed without meaning to.
“Mhm, fuck—just like that,” you whispered, your voice catching as a sharp pleasure lanced through your core.
You kept your eyes on him, watching the way he reacted to every sound you made. Like he was feeding off them. His lashes fluttered, lips shiny and swollen now, and when he glanced up at you, it was like he needed more. Needed to hear it from you.
“Circle your tongue around,” you whispered, tugging gently at his hair to keep him exactly where you wanted him. “There… slower. Keep it soft. I want to feel everything. Spit on it baby, get me soaked.”
His groan vibrated against you as he obeyed, the wet glide of his tongue sending another wave through your stomach, and then a thick string of saliva fell on your already soaked pussy. His hands clutched your thighs tighter now, nails pressing into your skin just enough to ground himself, like he was getting lost in it. In you.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, letting the praise drip from your lips. You saw the way his eyes rolled back slightly when you said it. How his movements got a little more confident, a little messier, but somehow still just right. “Taste me—really taste me. Don’t just lick, use your mouth.”
He obeyed with a quiet desperation, sucking gently on your clit, tongue slipping lower before dragging back up again, slow and thick, like he wanted to devour every inch of you.
You gasped. Moaned. Tugged harder at his hair.
He didn’t. If anything, he got hungrier, greedier. His tongue started moving with more pressure, his lips sucking softly at the spots that made your thighs shake.
You didn’t even have to look down to know he was gone.
You could feel it, in the way his mouth moved, in the way his grip had turned bruising on your thighs, in the low, desperate sounds he kept making every time his tongue dragged through you like he couldn’t help himself.
But when you did look down, your heart almost stopped beating.
Riki’s eyes were barely open, glossy and wild, lips swollen, wet from you. His face was flushed, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and he was panting between licks like he physically couldn’t get enough.
Mumbling between mouthfuls, between kisses to your soaked skin, between long, obscene licks like he was drunk on the taste of you.
“Fuck—you taste so good…” he breathed, voice hoarse and wrecked. “S’fucking good… I can’t—god, I can’t stop.”
You moaned softly, hips rolling toward his mouth, and he whined into you. Actually whined.
“It’s the best,” he said again, more to himself this time, like he couldn’t believe it. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had. I swear—fuck, I need—need to keep tasting you.”
His tongue flattened again, dragging up, slower this time, like he wanted to savor it. He licked you like it was holy.
You gasped, gripping his hair, pulling him tighter to you.
Didn’t even flinch. He moaned loud into your cunt, licking deeper, rougher, sloppy now, his mouth messy and wet and insistent. Every word he slurred out came like a prayer, like he was in some trance.
“I wanna eat you every day,” he groaned. “Fuck, please let me—I’ll be so good for you, I’ll learn everything—just don’t make me stop—”
Your head fell back against the pillows, legs shaking. He wasn’t even listening anymore, just moving off instinct, tongue flicking exactly how you taught him, sucking just enough to make your stomach twist with heat.
“You like it that much?” you teased, your voice barely holding steady, but it was still firm. Still in control.
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but burning.
“I love it,” he said immediately.
Your legs trembled around his shoulders, and still—still—he didn’t stop. His tongue was relentless now, messy and hot and wet against you, every slow stroke making your stomach twist tighter, your breath hitch faster. But you wanted more. You could feel your body hovering right on the edge, just one touch away from snapping completely.
You slid one hand down, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, guiding him just enough so you could breathe.
“Riki,” you panted. He blinked up at you, dazed and glassy-eyed, his mouth still open, his chin glistening. “Use your fingers too.”
He nodded without hesitation, licking his lips like he didn’t want to waste a drop.
“I—I don’t wanna mess it up,” he said, breathless, hand twitching at your thigh. “Just tell me what to do.”
You grabbed his wrist gently, brought it between your thighs, your own fingers wrapping around his to help him feel you.
“Start with one,” you whispered. “Slow. Let me open up to you.”
He swallowed hard and did exactly that—one long finger slipping into your heat, careful, reverent. The moment he did, a soft sound escaped your lips, your walls fluttering around him.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, almost choking on the words. “You’re so warm. So—fuck—tight. Is that okay? Is that good?”
“So good,” you gasped, voice trembling. “Now curl it—just a little. Mhm… yeah, right there.”
He groaned at the way you clenched, and then his mouth was on you again—tongue working in tandem with his finger now, stroking inside while he sucked and licked and moaned like he was starving.
You let out a high, breathy moan, your hand still guiding his wrist, helping him learn the rhythm. Your hips rocked up to meet both touches, tongue and finger now perfectly synced, and he responded instantly, desperate to give you exactly what you needed.
“Add another,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “You can take it.”
He hesitated only a second before easing a second finger in, slowly, and when he felt your body stretch around him, another broken groan left his throat.
“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice wrecked. “You feel so perfect—I wanna stay here forever.”
Your back arched, thighs trembling around his head, and he fucked you with his fingers just like you taught him, curling them right, keeping his mouth exactly where you needed it, letting you grind against his tongue shamelessly.
“That’s it, baby,” you moaned. “Just like that. Keep going—you’re gonna make me come.”
And the second those words left your lips, Riki lost it again, messy, moaning into you, thrusting his fingers harder, tongue flicking faster. You felt your climax building like a wave you couldn’t stop.
His lips were slick and red, cheeks flushed, hair clinging to his forehead. But it was the way he was moving that really undid you, hips rocking slowly against the mattress beneath him, grinding like he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Like he physically couldn’t stop.
He was moaning into you, low, broken, filthy sounds muffled by your thighs, and every time you tugged his hair or praised him, his hips pushed down harder, desperate for friction.
“Fuck,” you breathed, your whole body twitching under him. “You’re so needy, baby. Can’t even control yourself, can you?”
He moaned again, loud and desperate, and nodded just barely, face still buried in you.
“I—can’t,” he slurred between licks. “You taste too good—I need it—need to make you come—please, I can’t stop—”
The grind of his hips sped up, his fingers curling perfectly inside you while his tongue flicked your clit again and again, completely in rhythm, completely feral. His thighs were trembling from the way he was using the friction beneath him, like he was getting off just from serving you. From the taste. From your voice.
From the fact that he was the one making you fall apart.
“That’s it,” you groaned, hips bucking up toward his mouth. “Keep grinding, baby. Fuck yourself while you eat me. God—look at you…”
But he wasn’t looking anymore.
His eyes were squeezed shut now, brows furrowed in focus, mouth and fingers soaking wet, hips stuttering with every moan. And from the way his body was shaking, you knew, he was so close. Without even being touched.
You were shaking, heart hammering, your breath catching in short, ragged gasps. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers sent sparks rushing down your spine, your thighs trembling around his head. Ni-ki didn’t slow down, if anything, he was more focused than ever, like every sound you made fueled him. Like he needed to pull you apart, needed to feel you break for him.
You could barely keep your eyes open, barely breathe with how good it felt, how intense it was. His hands gripped your thighs like lifelines, grounding himself there, mouth working like he was starved and you were the only thing he’d ever wanted to taste.
Your hips jerked. You were so close it hurt.
“Riki,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “I’m gonna—”
“Come, please, need to feel you come on my mouth baby” He whispered, breathless, sucking your clit so hard that you cried out.
That did something to him. He moaned again, deep and wrecked, and it vibrated against you, just enough to push you over.
Your back arched off the mattress, your fingers tightening in his hair as the world blurred and broke around you. The orgasm tore through you in waves, sharp, warm, overwhelming. You cried out his name, legs closing around him, but he didn’t move, didn’t stop. He held you through it, mouth still soft, slow, working you gently as you came down.
When your muscles finally stopped trembling and your breathing slowed, he looked up at you.His lips were swollen, eyes glassy, flushed and ruined, and he was still panting because he came too, hard and soaked and messy against his jeans from just eating you.
You reached down and stroked your thumb over his cheek.
“You did so good,” you whispered, still breathless. “So, so good.”
And the look in his eyes when you said it? Like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to hear.
You were sure you created some kind of monster.
It was like something had snapped open between you and Riki that night, something hungry and undeniable. He hadn’t touched you in front of anyone since, but you could feel it: the way his gaze followed you when you walked past in your bikini, the way he’d bite his lip when he thought no one was looking.
But it was worse when you were alone.
Because now, it wasn’t just once. Now he wanted you constantly.
You hadn’t even made it out of the hotel earlier that morning without him pulling you back into the bathroom, dropping to his knees like it was the only place he belonged. He’d barely said a word, just looked up at you with those dark, desperate eyes and mumbled something about “missing the taste of you.”
It had been messy. Rushed. You had to muffle your moans into your hand and clamp your thighs tight around his head just to keep quiet.
Now, three days later in the afternoon, you were sitting under a beach umbrella with a drink in your hand, pretending like you weren’t still flushed from the memory. Pretending like your legs weren’t shaking.
Ni-ki was stretched out on a towel a few feet away, sunglasses on, the sea breeze lifting his hair. He looked calm to anyone else—maybe a little too calm—but you saw the truth. The tension in his jaw. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth when he caught your eye.
And then he mouthed something at you across the space between your friends.
He glanced toward the beach showers. Then back at you. And mouthed it again:
Please. Just five minutes.
You shook your head. Barely. But your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat blooming low in your belly. He tilted his head, still pleading, like he was barely holding it together.
And it hit you then, this wasn’t just about curiosity anymore. This wasn’t a one-time thing.
The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting everything in a hazy gold, and the breeze off the ocean carried laughter and music from your friends further down the beach. You were pretending to still be sipping your drink when Ni-ki brushed past you, close enough that your knees touched for a second.
No one noticed. Or so you hoped.
He didn’t say anything, just walked towards the showers without looking back.
Your heart pounded as you crossed the sand, the faint sound of water trickling from a half-open faucet masking your footsteps. The beach shower area was quiet, stone walls, open-air, private enough if you were quick.
You slipped inside, and there he was.
His back was against the tiled wall, hair tousled, lips parted, like he’d barely been breathing since he left you on that beach chair.
“I thought you said five minutes,” you whispered, stepping in closer.
He shook his head, chest rising and falling beneath his shirt.
You raised a brow, teasing.
“So you dragged me out here to lie to me?”
“No,” he said, voice low, hoarse. “I dragged you out here because I need you.”
And that was all it took.
You kissed him first, quick and hot, stealing his breath. But he dropped to his knees before you could blink, already pushing your swimsuit bottoms down your legs with shaking hands, reverent and hungry.
“Wait,” you breathed, glancing toward the open side of the shower. “Someone could—”
“I don’t care.” His voice was wrecked, hands firm as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ll be fast. I promise. I just—fuck, I missed you.”
And then his mouth was on you.
The rush of it stole your breath. The contrast of the cool tile behind you and the burning warmth of his tongue had you clutching the stone wall for balance. He moaned into you, shameless, like the taste of you alone was enough to undo him. You bit your lip, trying not to make a sound, failing as a gasp slipped out when he flattened his tongue and really got into it.
“God, you’re so good,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “So greedy—”
He groaned, grinding against nothing, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you impossibly closer. His mouth was wet, messy, insistent, and every time you tried to look down at him, you saw how gone he was, red cheeks, glassy eyes, flushed and panting like he needed this more than air.
“Riki,” you warned, breath hitching as the pressure built again, sharp and fast. “We don’t have long—”
“I don’t care,” he mumbled against your skin. “Let them see. I’d still stay right here.”
You didn’t even hear the footsteps pass nearby over the sound of the waves and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You just held his face, riding the edge, knowing it wouldn’t take long.
By the time you stepped out of the beach showers, your legs were still trembling.
You’d tried to fix your hair in the tiny mirror, smooth out your expression, but your mouth was swollen and your swimsuit still clung awkwardly to your damp skin. Riki walked a few steps behind you, his shirt thrown over one shoulder, cheeks still flushed, his lips a little too red.
And worst of all, he was smiling.
You elbowed him as you walked, muttering under your breath,
“I am obvious,” he said softly, brushing your fingers with his as you passed a stray towel on the sand. “And you liked it.”
You glared at him—only half-serious—and picked up the pace, ignoring the way your thighs still ached.
When you reached your friends, Jake was the first to spot you.
“Well, well, well,” he grinned, raising his sunglasses. “Look who finally decided to rejoin society.”
“We weren’t gone that long,” you said quickly, dropping your towel back down like nothing happened.
Jake squinted. “You guys missed the watermelon. And Sunoo was telling this insane story about—wait.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you look like that?”
Your stomach flipped. Riki coughed behind you.
Sunghoon glanced up from where he was drying his hair.
“Yeah. You guys look kinda… flushed.”
“Hm,” Jake said slowly, like he didn’t quite believe it.
You sat down quickly on your beach chair and took a sip of your drink, trying to will your heart rate back to normal. But Riki flopped down next to you, casually propping his sunglasses on top of his head, lips still a little too pink.
“I won’t.” He leaned closer, voice dropping so only you could hear. “Unless you want me to tell them how good you taste when you—”
He grinned wider and leaned back like nothing happened.
You tried to look normal. Innocent. Unbothered.
But the looks your friends kept throwing your way said one thing clearly:
They knew something was up.
And if they didn’t know now, they would soon, because Riki’s knee was already brushing yours under the towel, and the second you leaned towards him, he gave you that look again.
Summer trip this year had just started.
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